Friday, September 11, 2015

9/11 A Reflection

Back in 2001, I was the Youth Pastor for Mendham Hills Community Church in NJ. Below is an article  I wrote for the church newsletter regarding 9/11. I'm glad I revisited this prose because it brought back all the emotions of that day. Here it is:





YOUTH TRUTH
November, 2001

A Different Kind of Turkey

As far as individuals, families, towns, cities and country go, it’s been a difficult couple of months.  I know that you have probably heard it all in regards to September 11.  “Let it go” you say.  I can’t and I won’t.  Our world and our country will never be the same.  My children will not grow up with the same freedoms that I had growing up.  Maybe He will come again in our lifetime.

On September 23, I had the privilege and opportunity of taking Ben DeWitt (a Senior High student) into NYC.  The intent was to minister.  The result was life changing. 

When we arrived in Penn Station and onto 7th Avenue, I was expecting the “smell” that I heard so much about.  But I noted nothing out of the ordinary smells of the city….exhaust fumes mingled with the stench of urine, subway steam, hot pretzels and roasted nuts still had their grip!

First we headed downtown to go to Nyack College Manhattan Campus (NCMC) (on Worth Street and Broadway).  When we came up the subway stairs at City Hall, on Park Row, the smell of the tragedy hit me in the face like a dirty, used dishrag.  All I could think about was Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 2:16.  “The smell of death.”  I’m sorry that I’m using the verse is totally out of context, but that is all I could think of.  And all I kept muttering to myself…..”It smells like death….it smells like death….Oh Jesus…..it smells like death…it smells like death because that is what it is!!”

I used to work at Pace University, right across the street from City Hall.  I used to walk down Park Row almost every day during lunch.  But today, walking down Park Row was like walking in a surreal nightmare.  It was very ominous.  The smell and the soot and the debris and the people…..their silence was deafening.   Everything looked so gray.  We were able to get about 1 block from “Ground 0” looking in from Broadway.  I couldn’t believe it.  Words could not describe the sense of shock and vulnerability!

The streets where familiar dual shadows loomed were now well lit by the rays of unwelcome sunshine.

When we walked a few blocks up to NCMC, we met up with people from 1st Alliance Church who were also going out to minister.  They gave Ben and I a case of books by Luis Palau titled, “Where is God When Bad Things Happen.”  We were to give the books away to people we thought would appreciate it.

Our plan was to go back down to Ground 0 for one last look, before we headed up to Union Square Park on 14th Street. 

On the train back to NJ, I wrote that I was speechless, shocked, and numb.  Here are the points I pondered in regards to “Ground 0”:

·        The “smell of death” is eternally singed in my nose.  Indescribable smell…literally. 
·        The absolute horror of the distance that the billowing smoke rolled.  The fear people must have had for blocks beyond the towers.  Dust and debris seemed endless but lasted for at least 5 blocks in either direction, but mostly north and east.
·        The people who were there to see the destruction and the horrified and shocked look on their faces as they gazed at “Ground O” and the surrounding area.
·        As Ben and I were circling around to go back to the subway, we headed uptown on Nassau Street.  There was an art gallery/frame shop.  It seemed like it was one of the only stores opened for business.  A vertical picture of the World Trade Center caught my eye and I went in.  When I went in, it was obvious that the proprietor was from the Middle East. The hurt and shattered look on his face spoke volumes.  When I asked how he was really doing, he said, "not so good…" He was from Turkey and he told me that people weren't treating him very nicely.  It was obvious that he couldn’t speak English too well.  So I gave him a copy of the book and bought a copy of the WTC poster.  I told him to read the book and that God would speak to him.  His countenance changed and he was so appreciative….appreciative of the fact that I didn’t profile him. 

The Different Kind of Turkey!
Later that week, (on Friday, the 28th) I had the opportunity to take 3 other youth pastors into the city to show them around.  After looking at the devastation, one kept stuttering, “It’s…It’s….It’s….”  I finished his derailed train of thought exclaiming, “It’s not a movie anymore!”  My friend replied, “Yeah, that’s it…it’s real!”

As the 3 pastors and I walked back up Nassau Street, I knew I had to go visit my new friend (I won’t even attempt at trying to spell his name!) from Turkey in the art gallery.  As soon as he saw me, he lit up.  I asked if he read the book, he said no, couldn’t read English.  Then he said that his brother had been reading it and translating it for him!  He said that they both never heard about God that way!  I then gave him a booklet titled “Your Most Important Relationship.”  It’s a gospel presentation.  He said he would have his brother read and explain it to him.  As I’m trying to review the booklet with him, his brother walks in.  I said, “Oh, is he the one reading the book?”  “No, other brother read book,” he replied.  So, my friend introduces me to this yet another brother.  As I shook his hand I told him that I was going to pray for them and especially their business.  Tears welled up in the brother’s eyes and he quietly said, “thank you.”  My friend just smiled.  When I came out of the store, the same “stuttering” youth pastor (who was eavesdropping in the front of the store!) said he couldn’t believe the reactions of these two Turkish men.  He was amazed at how softened they were just by someone caring.

Lesson learned?  Don’t profile. Love with Christ’s love.

Thank you Jesus for Your unconditional love that crosses all boundaries in this country and abroad!

REV 5:9 And they (the elders) sang a new song: "You( Jesus) are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased men for God from every tribe and language and people and nation. 



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