Adventists
Respond to Attack on America

On September 11, 2001 the TV images of the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, seen on CNN, left me nauseated and reeling in disbelief. Questions of "Who could do such a thing?" and "Why?" and "What about all those people who will be killed...and their families?" overwhelmed me with grief. Suddenly my world had changed. I had crashed into the reality of not only how vulnerable we all are to terrorism, but also how much we need God and each other in our lives. I, like many of you, felt the need to help in some way, but asked myself how?

My answer came swiftly. I heard that Sharon Pittman, from our social work department, had received an invitation to send an interdisciplinary team of counselors and students from Andrews University, to go and assist our brothers and sisters in New York. Two groups would be sent. The first would leave on September 14 and would stay until September 18. The next group would arrive on September 17 and stay until the 22nd.

I signed up to go in the first group. We traveled in a caravan of three vans, carrying a total of 15 AU family members. Our goal was to reach New York by sundown, Friday evening September 14. All along the way, from Michigan to New York, we saw people displaying the American flag, proudly flying them on cars, from windows, from bridges, from roof tops, and from their homes...all of us seeking, it appeared, to pull closer to each other during these moments of shock and pain.

Upon arrival to New York, we still were not quite sure how God was going to use us, but we all knew we would do what was needed. We were advised to stay flexible and would probably need at least a day to assess the needs of the people. What we would end up doing depended on their needs....and wherever the Lord led us. We learned we would be staying and working out of the Adventist church on 86th and Lexington, found in Upper Manhattan. I learned that Samir Selmanovic, a previous student of mine at Andrews University, was the pastor there. It was wonderful seeing him again.

Once at the church that first night, we all found the spots on the basement floor we would claim as our "bedroom" for the next few days. A sign-up list for the use of the one shower in the church was drafted, and snuggling into our sleeping bags, tired, we began a journey of a life time! We were ready to serve and we knew God was with us.

The next day, the first Sabbath morning after the tragedy of September 11, we experienced perhaps one of the most moving and spiritual services ever. The church was filled to capacity. Some were members, some were not. People who had never prayed, suddenly knew that's what they wanted to do. People who had not been to church in years, suddenly knew thats where they wanted to be. A deep sadness, cloaked in hope, filled the air. The need to just connect and find closeness with each other was felt by all. Suddenly the old songs, sung thousands of times throughout ones life, such as "Sweet Hour of Prayer" or "Abide With Me," had a meaning never before experienced. The voices bellowed deep with pleas to God, grief and yet, with comfort! The special music sung and played by the local members, and the thoughtful reflections read by a member who wrote and shared his personal pain, were so deeply moving! Pastor Samir's sermon spoke to each one of us and gave us renewed tools to help us grapple with the meaning of such a tragedy.

We learned that the church had also been "crushed" by the loss of 8 firemen in their neighborhood and the probable loss of a loving friend and member of the church, Michael Baksh. In fact, we were told, he had just been voted the week before into a new leadership role in this church. They loved him dearly. He was among the thousands missing in the World Trade Center that morning when the planes struck the towers. He remains missing to all his loved ones, which include his wife and two beautiful children, ages 5 and 2. The pain of their loss became palpable and personal!

In the days that followed, we reached out to people in the streets, we hugged those who wandered into our church for comfort, we connected with people in the parks and visited the hurting in the shelters. We heard the stories of those who saw the towers crumble. We heard of those who were engulfed by the clouds of dust and debris, some even horrified thinking it was a cloud of poisonous gas pursuing them! We heard of the loved ones missing and the fears of what tomorrow would hold. We heard the fear and shock in their voices, and felt the numbness of their beings. We saw the destruction of Ground Zero and understood why they called it Ground Hero...for there we witnessed the untiring lines of trucks, policemen, firemen, crane operators and hundreds of volunteers working diligently to find the beloved lives underneath the ghastly rubble. And, we saw something else.... We saw and understood the deeper purpose of humanity which is to love, comfort, and connect with each other. We understood that our greatest gift to each other was one another. Yes, we found our mission! We learned that God had sent us there to walk along side them in this time of pain and sadness, to listen to their stories (stories of fear, guilt, great loss and shock), to hug them, to wipe their tears, to pray with them, to reassure them that what they were feeling was normal and important, and then to listen some more. God wanted us to tell them, by our presence, that He was with them and that they were not alone. What an awesome privilege!

And, although the stories we heard were many, and the tears we wiped were many, and the fears and doubts we calmed were many, the blessings we received from these people were just as great. We went in order to help, and I know we all walked away blessed and touched by the very ones we had gone to assist.