78 Sermon Illustrations on Disaster

Clovis Chappell wrote in his book of sermons “Feminine Faces”:

“When Pompeii was being excavated, there was found a body that had been embalmed by the ashes of Vesuvius. It was that of a woman. Her feet were turned toward the city gate, but her face was turned backward toward something that lay just beyond her outstretched hands. The prize for which those frozen fingers were reaching was a bag of pearls. Maybe she herself had dropped them as she was fleeing for her life. Maybe she had found them where they had dropped by another. But, be that as it may, though death was hard at her heels, and life was beckoning to her beyond the city gates, she could not shake off their spell. She had turned to pick them up, with death as her reward. But it was not the eruption of Vesuvius that made her love pearls more than life. It only froze her in this attitude of greed.”

Sermon in Family series. Coping with Tragedy.

Isaiah 10:3

"YOUR DAY OF DISASTER"

I. Most families are not prepared for the unexpected.

II. Disaster of Despair.

A. Long sickness, financial burdens.

B. Christian heroes have also felt like giving up. 2 Cor 1:8

C. We may feel like giving up, but can overcome.

III. Disaster of Defeat.

A. Moral failure is among worst defeats for a family. 2 Tim 4:10

B. To survive, a family needs to learn how to forgive.

C. Forgiveness is hard, but it is the only way to heal.

IV. Disaster of Death.

A. King David and poignant death of his young son. 2 Sam 12:16-23

B. Dealing with your family and death.

C. The great promise of salvation is that death is defeated.

V. How Christians can cope.

A. "Overcoming" is not automatic.

B. Pain is normal is this fallen world. You cannot escape it.

C. Learn to embrace the pain.

D. Pain can become endurable when it is shared.

VI. Pain is not God's last word. Rom 8:8,28

Thomas Edison’s laboratory was virtually destroyed by fire in December, 1914. Although the damage exceeded $2 million, the buildings were only insured for $238,000 because they were made of concrete and thought to be fireproof. Much of Edison’s life’s work went up in spectacular flames that December night.

At the height of the fire, Edison’s 24-year-old son, Charles, frantically searched for his father among the smoke and debris. He finally found him, calmly watching the scene, his face glowing in the reflection, his white hair blowing in the wind.

“My heart ached for him,” said Charles. “He was 67 — no longer a young man — and everything was going up in flames. When he saw me, he shouted, “Charles, where’s your mother?” When I told him I didn’t know, he said, “Find her. Bring her here. She will never see anything like this as long as she lives.”

The next morning, Edison looked at the ruins and said, “There is great value in disaster. All our mistakes are burned up. Thank God we can start anew.”

Three weeks after the fire, Edison managed to deliver his first phonograph.

________

The Sower’s Seeds, from A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul, Copyright 1996 by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen

[see also HolwickID #11967]

The devastation and destruction that recently [2003] ravaged Jackson, Tennessee, left most people with lingering questions about the nature of life on earth and God in heaven.

Driving through downtown, walking among those who survived the storms, or simply looking at the pictures in the newspaper or on television causes uncomfortable questions to flood our minds. Downed power lines, destroyed homes, century-old trees snapped into pieces and funeral homes filled with families and friends are images that are almost more graphic than we can bear. Without a doubt, the deepest and most profound question which each of us continues to ask -- at least if to no one but ourselves -- is the piercing and haunting one-word question, “Why?”

After the trauma of an earlier tornado in Jackson, in 1999, why this? Why now? After the tornado touching down on one of our university campuses last fall, why again? Why so soon? What Jackson has experienced has been a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Why then have we experienced this three times in just the past four years? Why?

Merely experiencing life is not enough for those who are a part of the human race. All people desire to know the reasons and motivations behind life's occurrences.

Scientists who observe physical realities seek to understand the nature of such realities as they really are. Sociologists observe different people and groups of people but also evaluate the reasons behind the existence of such cultures. Teachers are motivated not merely by the content which they teach to children but by an understanding of why such an education is important and indeed essential. The question “why?” motivates not just the philosopher, but the businessman, the doctor, the clergy, the social worker and indeed all who live with any semblance of intentionality. Regardless of our profession or socioeconomic status, each of us at our core is a philosopher. We all ask why.

Sitting in church pews during my adolescent years often positioned me perfectly to hear well-intentioned and faithful preachers say that Christians should never question God by asking him why. They said such an approach implies presumption, lack of faith and distrust in God.

However, nothing could be further from the truth. God is not scared of humanity's authentic questioning. He is not offended by our genuine concerns or our honest lack of understanding in the face of life's difficulties and tragedies. In fact, real questions on our part reveal an element of trust -- a trust that, at the very least, acknowledges that while we ultimately will never know why, God always does. Asking why does imply faith -- a faith that God indeed does know why, whether we do or not.

It is OK to ask why. Even Jesus Christ, God's own Son, in the middle of horrendous despair and death cried from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Surely if Jesus who lived a perfect life before his heavenly Father felt the liberty to look Him in the face and ask why, then we can too.

No, this side of heaven we will never know the whys behind the recent storms. We will never understand the seemingly purposeless deaths. Nor will we ever be able to make sense of the violent destruction which has been experienced. But we can be confident that it is often through the asking of why that humanity draws closer to the Creator whom we quickly acknowledge but in times like this do not always understand.

And we can grasp with the Apostle Paul that “neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

_____________

Brady is minister to the university at Union University in Jackson, Tenn.

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[Original illustration at this number was a duplicate of HolwickID #16465]

Chances are you have seen the Hollywood movie TITANIC, which has been seen by more people around the world than any other movie in history. What most people do not know is that there was a godly Christian man on board the Titanic named John Harper....

John Harper was born to a pair of solid Christian parents on May 29, 1872. It was on the last Sunday of March 1886, when he was 13 years old, that he received Jesus as the Lord of his life. He began to preach about four years later at the ripe old age of 17 years old by going down to the streets of his village and pouring out his soul for men to be reconciled to God.

As John Harper's life unfolded, one thing was apparent - he was consumed by the word of God. When asked by various ministers what his doctrine consisted of, he was known to reply, "The Word of God!" Soon, John Harper started his own church in September of 1896 (now known as the Harper Memorial Church.) This church started with just 25 members, but had grown to over 500 members when he left 13 years later.

Ironically, John Harper almost drowned several times during his life. When he was two-and-a-half years of age, he almost drowned when he fell into a well but was resuscitated by his mother. At the age of 26, he was swept out to sea by a reverse current and barely survived, and at thirty-two he faced death on a leaking ship in the Mediterranean. Perhaps God used these experiences to prepare this servant for what he faced next....

It was the night of April 14, 1912. The RMS Titanic sailed swiftly on the bitterly cold ocean waters heading unknowingly into the pages of history. On board this luxurious ocean liner were many rich and famous people. At the time of the ship's launch, it was the world's largest man-made moveable object. At 11:40 p.m. on that fateful night, an iceberg scraped the ship's starboard side, showering the decks with ice and ripping open six watertight compartments. The sea poured in. On board the ship was John Harper and his much-beloved six-year-old daughter, Nana. According to documented reports, as soon as it was apparent that the ship was going to sink, Harper immediately took his daughter to a lifeboat. It is reasonable to assume that this widowed preacher could have easily gotten on board this boat to safety; however, it never seems to have crossed his mind. He bent down and kissed his precious little girl; looking into her eyes he told her that she would see him again someday.

The flares going off in the dark sky above reflected the tears on his face as he turned and headed toward the crowd of desperate humanity on the sinking ocean liner. As the rear of the huge ship began to lurch upwards, it was reported that Harper was seen making his way up the deck yelling, "Women, children and unsaved into the lifeboats!" It was only minutes later that the Titanic began to rumble deep within. Most people thought it was an explosion; actually the ship was literally breaking in half. At this point, many people jumped off the decks and into the icy, dark waters below. John Harper was one of these people.

That night 1,528 people went into the frigid waters. John Harper was seen swimming frantically to people in the water leading them to Jesus before the hypothermia became fatal. Mr. Harper swam up to one young man who had climbed up on a piece of debris. Harper asked him between breaths, "Are you saved?" The young man replied that he was not. Harper then tried to lead him to Christ only to have the young man who was near shock, reply no. John Harper then took off his life jacket and threw it to the man and said "Here then, you need this more than I do..." and swam away to other people. A few minutes later Harper swam back to the young man and succeeded in leading him to salvation. Of the 1,528 people that went into the water that night, six were rescued by the lifeboats. One of them was this young man on the debris.

Four years later, at a survivors meeting, this young man stood up and in tears recounted how that after John Harper had led him to Christ, Harper had tried to swim back to help other people, yet because of the intense cold, had grown too weak to swim. His last words before going under in the frigid waters were, "Believe on the Name of the Lord Jesus and you will be saved." [see also #13299]

Does Hollywood remember this man? No. Oh well, it doesn't matter. This servant of God did what he had to do. While other people were trying to buy their way onto the lifeboats and selfishly trying to save their own lives, John Harper gave up his life so that others could be saved.

________

Source: "The Titanic's Last Hero" by Moody Press, 1997

==================

Version from Christian History magazine at http://chi.gospelcom.net:

The clear April night sky was filled with sparkling stars as the largest and finest steamship in the world sped through the calm seas of the icy North Atlantic. Many of the passengers had gone to bed, but some still could be found in the lounges, enjoying the TITANIC’S luxury. No one was alarmed by the slight jar felt around 11:15, but many noticed when they no longer felt the vibrations of the engines.

Ignoring iceberg warnings, the TITANIC had been steaming full speed ahead. Suddenly she struck a large iceberg which ripped her side. Within fifteen minutes the captain realized the danger of the situation, and the wireless operator put out a call for assistance. Sailors made lifeboats ready and ordered women and children to get into them first (Christian culture had stamped the ideas of chivalry into men, making them willing to give up their lives for women and children as their protectors, something rarely seen in other cultures). There were 12 honeymooning couples on board the ship. Though all of the brides were saved, only one of the grooms survived.

The captain ordered the band to play to keep up the spirits of the passengers. It began playing a rag-time tune, but soon was playing hymns.

There were only twenty lifeboats on the huge ocean liner -- barely enough for 1/3 of the passengers and crew. Not all of them could be lowered. All 85 engineers continued to work to keep the ship afloat as long as possible. At the end many people knelt together in prayer until the waters covered them.

Throughout the mournful, evacuation, with loved ones being tearfully separated, the band continued to play. There is some dispute about what was played that night. Several people in the life boats heard “Nearer My God to Thee.”

One of the passengers traveling on the ship was evangelist John Harper. He put his six-year old daughter into a life boat and then ran through the ship warning others of the danger and talking to them about the eternal destiny of their souls. When he was finally forced to jump into the icy water, he clung to a piece of wreckage and asked another man “Are you saved?” When the man answered no, John said to him, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved.”

When the TITANIC sank early in the morning on this day, April 15, 1912, John Harper was among the 1,522 people who died. The band went down with the ship. The last hymn they played was “Autumn,” which concludes with the prayer

Hold me up in mighty waters

Keep my eyes on things above,

Righteousness, divine Atonement,

Peace, and everlasting Love.

________

Bibliography:

1. Adapted from an earlier Christian History Institute Story.

2. Adams, Moody. THE TITANIC’S LAST HERO. Moody Press, 1997.

===========================

A third version:

Reverend John Harper, a Baptist minister, traveled with his daughter Nina Harper and Miss Jessie Leitch from London enroute to Chicago. Rev. Harper was on his way to Chicago to begin a series of revival meetings at the Moody church located on West Chicago and La Salle Avenue. He had been at the church during November, December and January of 1911/12 and his success there resulted in his being recalled to conduct a second series of meetings.

On the evening of April 14th Rev. Harper and Miss Leitch were standing on deck admiring the sunset. “It will be beautiful in the morning,” remarked Rev. Harper before retiring for the night. After the collision, Rev. Harper awakened his daughter, picked her up and wrapped her in a blanket before carrying her up to a deck. There he kissed her goodbye and handed her to a crewman, who put her into lifeboat 11 with Miss Leitch. Rev. Harper went down with the ship.

Nina recalled that she was sitting on her aunt's lap when she saw the Titanic sink. She remembered watching the lights go out and hearing the screams of the drowning.

In New York, little Nan couldn't understand why her father did not come to her in this strange new land. “I left Papa on the big boat, and he told me to go with Aunt Jessie,” she said. “Now I want Papa.” But Papa never came, and Nan and Miss Leitch returned to England a week later.

Out of tragedy, however, God can still bring triumph. John Harper ended up in the water and as he tried to stay afloat he drifted toward a young man holding onto a plank. Harper asked, “Young man, are you saved?” The man said, “no.” A wave separated them. After a few minutes they drifted within speaking distance of each other, and again Harper called to him, “Have you made your peace with God?” The young man said, “not yet.” A wave overwhelmed John Harper and he was seen no more, but the words, “Are you saved?” kept ringing in the young man's ears.

Two weeks later a youth stood up in a Christian Endeavor meeting in New York, told his story and said, “I am John Harper's last convert.”

__________

Source: http://www.rmplc.co.uk/eduweb/sites/phind/html/jharper.html}, and Classic writings of Billy Graham

===========================

Fourth version, from Baptist Press, by Douglas W. Mize, April 13, 2012. (Hundredth anniversary was April 15, 2012)

It has been 100 years since Titanic, the greatest ship of its time, sank on its maiden voyage, killing more than 1,500 passengers. The “unsinkable ship” had done just that, and on the tragedy’s centennial we stand captivated by the story. Many movies, documentaries and books have familiarized us with some of the passengers, such as entrepreneur John Jacob Astor IV or the “Unsinkable” Molly Brown. Yet one of the supreme stories of the Titanic involves a heroic pastor and his passion to save lives and souls.

When pastor and preacher John Harper and six year old daughter boarded the Titanic it was for the privilege of preaching at one of the greatest churches in America, Moody Church in Chicago, named for its famous founder Dwight L. Moody. The church was anxiously awaiting his arrival not only because of the pending services, but to meet their next pastor, as Harper planned to accept their invitation. Harper was known as an engaging preacher and had pastored two churches in Glasgow and London. His preaching style was suited for an evangelist as testified by the words of another local pastor. “He was a great open-air preacher and could always command large and appreciative audiences. ... He could deal with all kinds of interrupters, his great and intelligent grasp of Bible truths enabling him to successfully combat all assailants.”

When the Titanic hit the iceberg, Harper successfully led his daughter to a lifeboat. Being a widower he may have been allowed to join her but instead forsook his own rescue, choosing to provide the masses with one more chance to know Christ. Harper ran person to person, passionately telling others about Christ. As the water began to submerge the “unsinkable” ship, Harper was heard shouting, “women, children, and the unsaved into the lifeboats.” Rebuffed by a certain man at the offer of salvation Harper gave him his own life vest, saying, “you need this more than I do.” Up until the last moment on the ship Harper pleaded with people to give their lives to Jesus.

The ship disappeared beneath the deep frigid waters leaving hundreds floundering in its wake with no realistic chance for rescue. Harper struggled through hyperthermia to swim to as many people as he could, still sharing the Gospel. Harper evidentially would lose his battle with hypothermia but not before giving many people one last glorious Gospel witness.

Four years after the tragedy at a Titanic survivor’s meeting in Ontario, Canada, one survivor recounted his interaction with Harper in the middle of the icy waters of the Atlantic. He testified he was clinging to ship debris when Harper swam up to him, twice challenging him with a biblical invitation to “believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be saved.” He rejected the offer once. Yet given the second chance and with miles of water beneath his feet, the man gave his life to Christ. Then as Harper succumbed to his watery grave, this new believer was rescued by a returning lifeboat. As he concluded his remarks at the Ontario meeting of survivors he simply stated, “I am the last convert of John Harper.”

When the Titanic set sail there were delineations of three classes of passengers. Yet immediately after the tragedy, the White Star Line in Liverpool, England placed a board outside its office with only two classes of passengers reading, KNOWN TO BE SAVED and KNOWN TO BE LOST. The owners of the Titanic had simply reaffirmed what John Harper already knew. There are people who know Christ and will spend eternity with God in heaven and many others who will not.

For us, 100 years after the Titanic, may we be as zealous as Harper was with every opportunity to share Christ with the perishing.

*

[see also HolwickID #13299 & #18347]

On September 11, 2001, Al Braca began his workday at his office on the 104th floor of One World Trade Center. He had been a vice president/bond broker for Cantor Fitzgerald for 16 years. He was on the phone that morning when an earsplitting explosion happened beneath him. The person on the phone with Al heard people yelling “Evacuate!” in the background; then the phones went dead. Those were the last words spoken by Al Braca to anyone who knew him well.

The plane had hit several floors below, at about the 90th floor. Cantor Fitzgerald offices were above the crash site; most likely, people in Al's office were trapped. Many people, as the nation saw in news reports, were trying to get to the roof via the windows and ledges because the heat and smoke were penetrating the upper floors rapidly. They did not make it. Most likely, Al and his colleagues were trapped and couldn't go down to get out. Al's wife, Jeannie, knew by the end of the day that her husband had died. Al was the kind that he would not have let her suffer all day if he had been alive. As Jeannie says, “He would have found a way to call me!”

We have at least a few details of Al's last moments.

Cantor Fitzgerald is a high-powered brokerage firm where power and money were very important. Things like marriage, kids and God can easily become a low priority. Many of Al's coworkers called him “the Rev,” half out of affection, half making fun of him. They noticed, though, that he lived a different life. Al was very open with his colleagues about his faith and what God had done in his life. Some coworkers harassed him about his “morality,” but they were usually the ones who also went to him privately to talk about marriage, work or some other personal problem. They often asked him to pray for them, and he challenged them to also spend time in prayer themselves.

When the World Trade Centers were bombed in 1993, Al was there helping his coworkers get down. It took three hours to get all the way down, and as people passed him in the halls they'd yell, “Hey, pray for us, Rev!” He'd respond by telling them that he had them covered! He stopped along the way and prayed with people who were upset or nervous. Even though some of his coworkers taunted him, they came to respect him and admired what he had.

In his last moments, Al continued his obedient journey to Christ. After the plane hit his tower on September 11, 2001 (according to spouses of some of Al's coworkers who died with him), “the Rev” got everyone in a circle, holding hands and praying. Some received the Lord for the first time. As usual, he thought of others more than himself. He stepped into eternity, ready to meet his Lord face to face, bringing with him some of those he had prayed about for so long.

What a way to go. That must have been such a lovely moment for Al. According to his family, he was not afraid to die and this was a great way to go -- serving the Lord in the middle of such a terrible time. He was able to help those who were with him to know a peace that goes beyond fear and pain.

HIS CHRISTIAN LIFE

According to friends and family, Al Braca was a man who never wavered in his faith. He loved God with all his heart for 23 years -- the length of his life as a Christian. He and his wife, Jeannie, both became Christians after they saw God heal their then 4-year-old daughter, Christina, of a rare blood disease. Although they had grown up going to church, neither Al nor Jeannie had made a personal commitment to Christ. Once they did, it was real and long-lasting. Al was the kind of person who was very real about his faith, never falsifying the Gospel by pretending that everything was okay when it wasn't. He knew that being a Christian didn't protect you from hard times. It meant that you had the faith and strength to get through those hard times.

Al's family was very important to him. He was proud of his children -- older son David, twins Christina and Deanna and younger son Christopher. By September 2001, David, Christina, and Deanna had married and had kids (three grandkids for Al and Jeannie and one on the way). The Brancas' youngest son, Christopher, was in his junior year of high school. All of his children said about their father: “Our dad didn't yell at us a lot. He taught us right from wrong. He trusted us and that made us not want to do the bad things that other kids seemed to be doing. He respected us and encouraged us all to have our own personal relationship with Christ and find our own calling in life.” They were taught that they couldn't be saved through their parents, but had to make that decision on their own. Eventually, all of Al's children became Christians.

Deanna, one of the twins, admired her dad because he seemed to never waver in his faith and taught them that the most important thing in life was a relationship with Christ and following His plan. She feels that her dad taught them to be faithful to God even when everyone around you is faithless. To follow God is the highest calling that anyone could have. Their parents also modeled a good marriage for the children.

Al was adventurous and included his family in that adventurous spirit. The kids were always exposed to things that would broaden their worlds. From traveling to seeing Broadway shows in the city, they did a lot together and saw the rest of the world. He and Jeannie were proud of the way God had helped them raise their kids. Al would be proud of them now. They all had personal relationships with Christ and they all were good people.

Deanna said that although it has been very hard to not have their dad around, they have the promise of seeing him again in eternity because of their faith in Christ. Holidays and special days have been sad at times, but there is an inner peace that surpasses all understanding in their hearts and minds. God has been the Great Comforter for this whole family.

Al was a supportive and caring husband as well. He and Jeannie met as young people and had a friendship that took its time. When they got engaged, they stayed pure until marriage. They knew how important the marriage commitment was even at that young age. He and Jeannie grew to know that in order to have a successful marriage, you must die to self. Jeannie remembers how much Al respected and loved her. She felt important to him -- he seemed to make it his goal to show her that, often. According to Al and Jeannie's relationship, marriage is not a 50/50 compromise but a 100/100 percent giving of self and serving each other.

Al knew how to serve in his marriage. One way that Al served his wife was to care for her after she had a massive heart attack in the late 1990s. He came home from work each day and cooked, cleaned and made sure the kids were ready for school. Jeannie got better -- a miracle herself, since she had only 16 percent of her heart's function left after the heart attack. She has been alive and well since. She attributes it to Christ's healing in her life and her husband's sweet care.

A CHURCHMAN

At church, Al Braca was very active. An elder at his church, Calvary Chapel in Four Winds, New Jersey, Al was very involved in living out his faith. He took the role of elder very seriously. He prayed for the church and what they could do for Christ. He and Jeannie were the head of the Couples Fellowship. They loved these couples and prayed for them often. In the last seven months before he died, Al had begun ministering to a small group of men. There were some challenges going on in his church. He was called on to help and he stepped up to the plate. He had also just been chosen as a deacon, to serve others.

Jeannie tells that Al believed their home should be a place where people could come and know Christ, whether that meant meeting Him for the first time or meeting Him as healer, comforter, counselor. Al tried to be the best friend and “brother” he could be to the men of the church. It was not unusual for them to have a breakfast Bible study or a baptism at the house. It was built for God, used by God, belonged to God. Early on, they had dedicated the house to God to be used for ministry; Jeannie continues with that commitment.

When Al ministered to others, they would often ask him to pray. When they did, he would ask them, “Did you pray about it too?” If not, he'd tell them to go to the Lord first, pray, and them come back. He continued to direct others to God, and not himself. He said that to everyone, including his family. Al was very concerned that people knew that their personal relationship with Christ was first and foremost.

A CHRISTIAN AT WORK

Many people turned to Al for help at his job as well. There were times when Al wasn't sure about staying at his job but he continued to feel called to stay and be an example to those he worked with. He respected the business, but saw the hardships that came with being in a very power-driven, money-hungry business world. Al felt strongly that everyone should have the chance to have the Gospel shared with them both in word and deed. He knew that he had a purpose and even though there were times when he wanted to quit, he felt the Lord telling him to stay, so he did. He often called his wife and asked her to pray for him to get through a certain situation. Al wanted to be “light” in the darkness, and he was glad that he could count on his family and church to encourage him in his calling, his job.

They say that the way we conduct ourselves in a challenging time shows our true character. The character of Christ certainly shone through many times in Al's life. He followed Christ with an obedient heart, and at the end of his life he stayed true to Christ.

Early in the morning of September 11, 2001, as Jeannie was having her quiet time, she asked the Lord to tell her what she should pray for. Her family came to mind. She prayed especially for her husband's protection that day, although that was her prayer every day. An impression that morning told Jeannie that God was going to “take Al home” that day. She dismissed it. As the morning went on, she learned of the planes attacking the Trade Centers and heard that Al's building had been hit just below his office. She still thought he was safe but would be the last down because he was probably helping others. The kids were called together and they waited. Hope diminished for them as the second plane hit. When the towers fell, there was even more fear that he may have died.

Church friends gathered around the Braca family and brought comfort and strength that only those close to you can bring. According to friends, a pastor's wife who knew the Braca family had a dream the night of September 11th. She dreamed that Al had been God's witness on the 104th floor and that, like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, Jesus had been with Al through the fiery furnace he faced that day, and that he was not burned.

About a week later, Al's son went to the city to see if there was any chance of identifying him. As the workers heard his description, they asked if he had these certain characteristics, and certain clothes, including a particular ring -- and sure enough, Al's body had been preserved. According to reports, his was one of only 100 complete bodies found unharmed from the devastation of that day.

What can we learn from Al's life? A Scripture that was a favorite of Al's certainly speaks to his life. Proverbs 3:5-6 says this: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not to your own understanding, in all your ways acknowledge Him and he will make your paths straight.” This is what Al lived. He trusted, acknowledged and didn't lean on his own understanding. God walked with him all along his path and right into eternity, bringing with him some who learned in their last moments the Truth that Al lived all his life.

_____________

Excerpted from a new book, “As the Towers Fell” by Lisa Chilson-Rose.

[also see HolwickID #26761]

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[Original illustration at this number was added to HolwickID #25059]

Millions of people have found comfort in the great gospel hymn "It Is Well with My Soul" since it was written more than a century ago. But few people know the tragic story behind the composition of the hymn--a story of a soul finding peace in God even in the midst of grief and loss.

We pick up the story in 1871, the year of the great Chicago fire. One man who was particularly hard hit by the fire was a Christian named Horatio Spafford, who had invested heavily in real estate along Lake Michigan. The great fire wiped out Spafford's holdings.

This was not the first disaster to strike Spafford and his wife. Only a short time earlier they had suffered the loss of their son. Yet, even worse was to come.

Two years later, Spafford decided to take his wife and four daughters to Europe on vacation, where Spafford planned to assist his friend evangelist Dwight Moody in running an evangelistic campaign in Great Britain. But last minute business kept Spafford home in Chicago. He sent his wife and children ahead on the oceanliner S.S. Ville du Havre.

And then, tragedy struck. Halfway across the Atlantic, an English vessel rammed the Ville du Havre and cut her in two. In the chaos that followed, Mrs. Spafford watched helplessly as her four daughters were swept overboard to their deaths. Within just twelve minutes the ship had sunk.

The rescued survivors were taken to Wales. From there Mrs. Spafford cabled the terrible news to her husband, who was awaiting news of his family's fare. The cable consisted of just two words: "Saved alone."

Spafford immediately boarded the next ship and set off for Wales to be with his wife.

As his ship approached the mid-Atlantic, he looked out over the billowing waves that had taken the lives of his beloved daughters. Inspired by the sight, Spafford wrote the words of his now famous hymn:

When peace like a river attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll,

Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, It is well with my soul.

What an astounding sentiment! We can only imagine the grief he must have suffered -- how he must have prayed and wept and searched for meaning in the tragedy. But in the end, he was able to affirm a deep faith that, for the believer, "it IS well," even in the face of great personal suffering. The greatest hymns are those that speak out of the warp and woof of a flawed and fallen world -- that give expression to our deepest fears and hopes.

Music helps us express thoughts too profound for simple prose, and gives melody to the richest experiences of faith. And as the life of Horatio Spafford teaches us, music can flow from a wounded heart to soothe and bless Christians for generations to come.

(c) 1998 Prison Fellowship Ministries

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Version by Rev. Alan Carr in "A Tearful Moment," sermon #19910:

In 1871, tragedy struck Chicago as fire ravaged the city. When it was finally extinguished, the fire had taken over 300 lives and had left some 100,000 homeless. A man by the name of Horatio Spafford was one of those who tried to help the people of the city get back on their feet. Spafford was a Chicago lawyer who had invested heavily in the downtown area and lost everything as a result of the fire.

More tragically, Spafford had also suffered the loss his only son just a year earlier. Still, for two years Spafford assisted the homeless, the poor, the grief-stricken and others ruined by the fire.

It drained the family and they decided they needed a vacation. They were to go to England to join Moody and Ira Sankey on one of their evangelistic crusades, then travel in Europe. Mr. Spafford was delayed by some business, but sent his family on ahead. He would catch up to them on the other side of the Atlantic.

Their ship, the Ville de Havre, never made it. Off Newfoundland it collided with an English sailing ship and sank within 20 minutes. Though Horatio's wife, Anna, was able to cling to a piece of floating wreckage (one of only 47 survivors among hundreds), their four daughters were killed. Horatio received a horrible telegram from his wife, only two words long: “Saved alone.”

Spafford boarded the next available ship to be near his grieving wife. When the ship passed near the spot where his daughters died, Spafford penned these precious words:

When peace, like a river attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll.

What ever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Christa McAuliffe, the grin fling go-for-it "teacher-naut" from Concord, New Hampshire, said she was "reaching for the stars." Instead, she and the six other crew members of the space shuttle Challenger died when their craft exploded in flames only 73 seconds after lifting off from Cape Canaveral last January 28. She never realized her dream of teaching earth bound students from a classroom in space.

Yet, the tragedy that cost these seven courageous persons their lives can teach us profound lessons that challenge us to change forever how we live. Here are seven such lessons that have influenced me to live differently from the way I did before.

1. LIFE IS UNCERTAIN.

"Someone they admired and loved has been taken away," said Concord High School principal Charles Foley of the horrified students who had gathered in the school auditorium that morning to cheer the televised launch of their celebrated social studies teacher. "They have learned that nothing in this life is certain." Red-eyed students slouched wordlessly past as Foley shook his head and stared at the floor. He had just ordered the school closed to let faculty and students alike deal privately with their sorrow and shock.

Before the disaster, almost every one felt that launching the space shuttle was as routine as watching the sun rise over Florida. Twenty-four times before, NASA had successfully launched space shuttle missions with no loss of life. In most people’s minds, riding a shuttle into space had become scarcely more dangerous than boarding a 747 for London.

Christa McAuliffe must have felt the same way. On the morning of the fatal launch, a technician handed the teacher a shiny red apple. With a jaunty toss of her helmeted head, Christa winked at the technician and flashed her famous grin. "Save it for me, and I’ll eat it when I get back."

Crew member, Michael Smith, a decorated former navy jet fighter pilot in Vietnam, projected the same confident bravado, at least publicly. Six months before the launch, a friend told him, "Mike, you’ve lost your mind!"

"Don’t worry; it’s as safe as getting in any other airplane and flying," countered Smith, who as a high school quarterback used to infuriate his coach when he interrupted practice to watch Marine Corps jets take off nearby.

Privately, though, the easygoing North Carolinian reminded his relatives when he first joined NASA that flying in space was risky, not at all as safe as it might seem.

As his son and two daughters stood in the viewing stand at the Kennedy Space Center, shivering in the freezing temperature of a crystal-clear morning, shading their eyes and craning their necks with other relatives and friends of the astronauts, they saw the space shuttle their dad was piloting suddenly burst into a strange mushroom cloud that formed a twisted Y.

Fear and wonder ricocheted through their minds for 40 seconds of terrible suspense-filled silence. And then they heard the NASA announcer’s voice say with the somber tone of an undertaker, "We have a report from the flight dynamics officer that the vehicle has exploded."

"Daddy!" shrieked Smith’s eight-year-old daughter, Erin, her voice breaking in muffled sobs. "I want you, Daddy. You always promised that nothing would happen."

Much as he wanted to, Michael Smith couldn’t keep that promise, and neither could we. The apostle James wrote these words nearly 2,000 years ago, but they seem especially appropriate for 1987: "Now listen, you who say, ‘Today or to morrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you don’t even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." James 4:13,14.

Ron McNair, the brilliant black physicist from Lake City, South Carolina, the karate expert who had chopped and kicked his way to a fifth-degree black belt, the musician who played his saxophone flawlessly, the devoted father and husband, the deacon of the Antioch Missionary Baptist Church in Houston, Texas, understood that rocketing spaceward in the 2,250-ton shuttle with its in credibly complex systems required a faith in something greater than science.

In 1984 McNair told the congregation of the Baptist church in Los Angeles where he once worshiped, "I would not climb on top of that big piece of smoking hardware, strap myself down in that seat, sit down, and wait for the count to zero... and sail out of this world unless I knew that Jesus got in first."

Ron McNair believed that the only certain thing in our uncertain lives is the Lord of life, Jesus Christ, who the Bible declares is "the same yesterday and today and forever." Hebrews 13:8. He knew that not even death in a space shuttle explosion could separate him from "the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Romans 8:39.

2. GRIEVE BUT DON’T GIVE UP.

Only when we share Ron McNair’s perspective of life can we truly live each moment to its fullest or cope with tragedy.

Not since the assassination of President John F. Kennedy had Americans grieved so deeply and collectively over a national tragedy. Since the Challenger seven came from all parts of the United States and represented all races and religions, it was almost as if the explosion of the space shuttle struck symbolically at America itself.

Ron McNair believed that the only certain thing in our uncertain lives is the Lord of life, Jesus Christ.

President Reagan ordered the flag to be flown at half-staff for nearly a week. As I drove through my town that week, every flag I saw tightened my throat and stung my eyes with tears. I thought of the astronauts who had given their lives for the space program and of their grieving families. But I noticed something else too. Although the flags I saw rested at half-staff, they were not drooping in despair but snapping proud and free in the breeze, as sharp as a soldier’s salute.

There is a time to mourn, and this was such a time. But we should never give up hope. Sometimes we must lower the flag to half-staff, but if we let the wind of hope keep it flying, we can raise it again to the top when the time of mourning is over and get on with life.

On Saturday, June 14, 1986, some 300 Concord High School seniors marched onto the football field for the graduation ceremony which Christa McAuliffe would have addressed had she returned from the mission that took her life. Class president Carina Joy Dolcino told the seniors and their families, "January 28, 1986 - the date will never be erased from our minds. Our students and the nation were bound together in grief. Together we learned to cope. Despite the hard times and tears, the good times outweigh the bad."

Carina’s comforting words sound like those the apostle Paul wrote to encourage the Corinthian Christians: "We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." "Therefore we do not lose heart.... For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." 2 Corinthians 4:8,9,16,17.

3. IT’S VITAL TO HEED WARNINGS.

Faith that good will ultimately triumph doesn’t mean, of course, that we should take unnecessary risks and recklessly bring hard times on our selves and our families. We need to take all the precautions we can in each situation. We shouldn’t presume that everything’s going to be all right just because it has been in the past.

NASA officials could have prevented the space shuttle explosion if they had listened to the concerns of the engineers who designed the solid fuel booster rockets. The presidential commission to investigate the shuttle disaster discovered that Morton Thiokol engineers protested the launch because they feared the O-rings designed to keep hot gas from escaping through the booster rocket joints might fail in subzero temperatures. And, indeed, one did, triggering the explosion.

Marshall Space Flight Center officials, as well as Morton Thiokol managers, ignored the engineers’ warnings, and seven astronauts paid the price.

From Genesis to Revelation the Bible urges us to live our lives according to God’s principles of love and warns of the consequences if we refuse. God told Adam and Eve that they could eat fruit from every tree in the Garden of Eden except from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If they ate fruit from the forbidden tree, they would die.

Adam and Eve disregarded the divine warning, and today our world is a vast cemetery filled with the bodies of their descendants killed by disease, war, famine, and old age. In Revelation God gives a warning to all of us through the apostle John. After showing John the beauty of a new earth with no more death or pain, God told him: "He who overcomes will inherit all this, and I will be his God and he will be my son. But the cowardly, the unbelieving, the vile, the murderers, the sexually immoral, those who practice magic arts, the idolaters and all liars - their place will be in the fiery lake of burning sulfur. This is the second death." Revelation 21:7, 8.

4. PEOPLE ARE INFINITELY VALUABLE.

Immediately after the shuttle exploded. Vice President George Bush and White House communication director Patrick Buchanan burst into the Oval Office to inform President Reagan. Startled by the interruption, the President looked up from the State of the Union address he was working on.

"There has been a serious incident with the shuttle," Bush said, out of breath.

Buchanan was more blunt. "Sir," he said, "the shuttle has exploded."

The President’s eyes widened. "Is that the one the teacher was on?" he asked.

A few days later at the memorial service in Houston, the President spoke words which touched the hearts of all Americans: "Dick, Mike, Judy, El, Ron, Greg, and Christa, your families and your country mourn your passing. We bid you goodbye, but we will never forget you.:

When we heard about the space shuttle explosion, we thought only about the seven men and women who died and of their families because one human life is worth infinitely more than billions of dollars of hardware.

I’m thankful to live in a country that values human life above everything else. I’m also thankful that the Bible tells us that God created us in His image. See Genesis 1:27. We didn’t evolve from some mindless blob of primeval protoplasm any more than the space shuttle emerged from a pile of scrap metal! God created us to love and serve others. And even when we disobeyed Him, He considered us to be so valuable that He sent His only Son, Jesus Christ, to die for us that we might have eternal life. See John 3:16.

Judith Resnik, the 36-year-old Jewish mission specialist and second American woman to fly in space, once wrote a poem for her Hebrew class. Although she probably didn’t realize it, her two-line poem perfectly describes the mission of the Messiah: "BLESSED IS THE MATCH THAT IS CONSUMED IN KINDLING A FLAME. BLESSED IS THE FLAME THAT BURNS THE SECRET FASTNESS OF THE HEART."

The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus tell us one thing if they tell us anything at all: Only people make life worth living; only people make death worth dying.

5. TO ACCOMPLISH GREAT THINGS IN VOLVES GREAT RISK.

Pioneers in every age, from the crew of Christopher Columbus to the Challenger seven, have left their homes and risked their lives in the quest for a better world. Christa McAuliffe had planned to keep a daily journal of her experience in space because she considered the diaries of nineteenth century women pioneers to be among the richest history of America’s westward expansion.

Christa required her students in a class on the history of American women to read from the diaries about the risks the pioneers took and the hardships they encountered as they lurched and bumped across the prairies in covered wagons pulled by oxen.

One woman, pregnant with her eighth child on her way to Oregon, wrote about fording swollen streams, getting stuck in the mud, and suffering severe headaches. Another woman described the graves of other pioneers she saw along the way and the empathy she felt for them being buried alone in a wild land.

As a modern space pioneer, Christa McAuliffe experienced loneliness during her five-month training period in Houston while her husband, Steve, and their two small children, Scott and Caroline, remained in Concord. She wrote to a former teacher, "It’s hard being away from home, but we realized it was a tradeoff for a chance in a lifetime."

Perhaps she began to perceive the risk she was taking when her life insurance premium rose so dramatically that she canceled the policy. Later, she did accept a gift of one million dollars in life insurance coverage from a Washington, D.C., company. But really, no one, least of all Christa McAuliffe, expected that she, like many pioneers of the Old West, would give her life for the dream she loved.

Jesus Christ left everything and risked everything - position, power, and fellowship with His Father - in order to save us. He "did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death - even death on a cross!" Philippians 2:6-8.

What risks are we willing to take for Him? Do our jobs, our possessions, our families mean more to us than He does?

6. WE CAN NEVER REACH THE STARS WITHOUT DIVINE HELP.

Lorna Onizuka, widow of Ellison S. Onizuka, thinks the 39-year-old engineer and air force test pilot from Hawaii may have had a premonition of his death aboard the Challenger.

Before he went into space on his first mission aboard the shuttle Discovery, Onizuka prepared a book for his family that included insurance papers, family business instructions, and letters to his two teenage daughters. During that flight, the book remained sealed in a safe in the crew’s quarters at Cape Canaveral.

"Lorna," Onizuka asked his wife several times before the mission, "do you remember where the book is in case something should happen to me?"

"I was very uncomfortable with that, and he knew it," Lorna told a reporter later.

For his second flight, Onizuka didn’t mention the book but did something that Lorna now thinks is strange. As before, he called his family prior to boarding the space shuttle, but this time he told his daughters what he had written to them in the sealed letters.

The girls laughed and cried, then handed the phone back to their mother. Ellison and Lorna talked together softly He apologized for being gone so much, and she for nagging him. After the disaster, Lorna discovered that he had brought the book home instead of sealing it in the safe.

Before the launch, Onizuka told the press, "I’ll be looking at Halley’s Comet. They tell me I’ll have one of the best views around." Still, he realized that his own mortality and the limitations of human technology might prevent him from viewing the famous comet on its twice-a-century visit from the depths of outer space.

And he prepared himself and his family for that possibility.

America landed men on the moon in 1969, but in the euphoria of that feat we forgot how far away the stars really are. The moon lies only 250,000 miles from earth, but the nearest star, Alpha Centauri, shimmers 25 trillion miles away like a microscopic mirage in the vast desert of space. Traveling 25,000 miles an hour in a space vehicle would take astronauts 115,000 years to reach it or 1,150 lifetimes!

Our mortality locks us in the prison of time. Only Jesus Christ holds the keys to unlock the door of death. See Revelation 1:18. Only. He can travel free from the laws of physics. See Acts 1:9. The Bible promises us that Jesus will come soon and take us home with Him to the stars: "The Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever." 1 Thessalonians 4:16, 17.

7. THE CHURCH NEEDS EVERYONE BE CAUSE HEAVEN IS FOR EVERYONE.

After 20 years as an elite domain of white male military officers, NASA announced in 1977 that it was looking for men and women of different races to diversify its astronaut corps; 8,079 men and women applied. NASA selected 11 and gradually began sending them into space.

But not before Challenger’s last flight in 1986 had such a cosmopolitan crew trained together for a space shuttle mission: Commander Francis R. Scobee, 46, an aerospace engineer and Vietnam combat pilot; Judith A. Resnik, 36, America’s second woman in space, holder of a doctorate in electrical engineering; Ellison S. Onizuka, 39, an air force test pilot with a Japanese Buddhist heritage; Michael J. Smith, 40, a much-decorated navy flier who won his pilot’s license before he knew how to drive a car; Gregory B. Jarvins, 41, a satellite designer for Hughes Aircraft Company who had been bumped from two previous shuttle flights; Ronald B. McNair, 36, an MIT physicist and the second black American in space; and, of course, Christa McAuliffe, 37, the first teacher in space, who captured the hearts and imaginations of all Americans.

They were America’s best and brightest-uncommonly intelligent, highly professional, and fiercely motivated.

Diverse in background, different in gender, divided by religion, the shuttle crew could not afford to let these things separate them. They knew they had to work together to accomplish their mission successfully. When they walked in single file toward the launching pad dressed alike in their blue NASA jumpsuits, they were one crew with one mission.

Like the Challenger seven, members of the Christian faith are one. "All of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus." Galatians 3:27, 28. Our Commander has given us a mission. "Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit." Matthew 28:19.

Christ’s church needs all of its members working together in harmony, contributing their talents and spiritual gifts to accomplish the mission of preparing earth’s last generation for the greatest space journey of all time - the flight with Jesus and angels to the kingdom of the redeemed.

• James Fly is communication director, Mid-America Union of Seventh-day Adventists, Lincoln, Nebraska. © 1987 by James L. Fly.

*

Brian Clark, an executive vice president at Euro Brokers, a brokerage firm that had offices on the 84th floor of 2 World Trade Center, was one of only four people to escape either tower from above the floors where the planes struck. In this interview for the NOVA program "Why the Towers Fell," assistant producer Matt Barrett simply let the camera roll as Clark told his astounding tale. Only slightly edited for clarity here, the interview reveals, in vividly recalled detail, how snap decisions, gut instinct, and a touch of luck worked together in Clark's favor and that of the man whose life he saved.

Like any normal day I arrived at about 7:15 in the morning. That particular day was more or less flawless weather -- beautiful day, blue sky. I don't remember the temperature, but we had an unseasonably warm fall, and I'm assuming that that day was equally pleasant.

I have been at Euro Brokers for over 29 years now. I started as a trainee broker in 1973, and for the last 14 or 15 years I've been in management. Most recently my title's been Executive Vice President. I've been one of several people who manage the company. One minor responsibility I had that turned out to be significant that day, however, was I was one of about eight or ten people that had volunteered to be a fire marshal.

THE FIRST PLANE

As I said, I arrived about 7:15 and got my morning coffee. I went about my normal chores. I don't really recall any extraordinary events that morning until 8:46 and change, when, sitting with my back to the west wall -- I had a private office, with my desk facing my door and my back to the window -- I heard an enormous thump. I didn't feel any vibration, but there was a noticeable sound like a boom or thump, and the lights buzzed for a second. My eyes jerked up to look at my overhead lights.

There was suddenly this glare, and my attention was immediately caught. I spun my head around, and the entire airspace behind me was filled with flame. I didn't know what it was at the time, but it was the fuel from the first jet hitting the North Tower that had gone right through that tower and out over the airspace, south of Tower One, the North Tower. That same airspace was west of the South Tower, the tower I was in on the 84th floor.

My immediate thought was there had been an explosion one or two floors above our office. That's what I thought had happened in that first instant. Being one of the fire marshals, I was equipped with a whistle and flashlight in my office. I jumped up, grabbed them, put the whistle around my neck, and more or less yelled, "Get out! Everybody get out!" This all took me five seconds. When I looked behind me out the window, the flames were all gone, and thousands of papers were just fluttering in the air, the edges of which were all on fire. It was like flaming confetti. Very strange.

I should have realized but didn't realize at the time that the area that all this was happening in was so huge. But I still wasn't computing that in my mind; still it was two floors up in my mind. So I ran out of my office, just a yard or two into an area where some accountants sit, and other people in offices, and I said, "Come on, let's go, there has been an explosion," and I started to get people off the floor.

Now, we are a trading operation. Our customers are not individuals, but large financial trading institutions around the world, like a Barclay's Bank or the Royal Bank of Canada. So we have in our trading floor many television sets tuned to financial news information. Well, all of these stations cut away to their news departments, and there were these breaking news stories that an airplane had hit the World Trade Center. The story developed literally within minutes, and we understood fairly soon, I would say within three or four minutes, that an airliner had hit One World Trade Center. At least that's my recollection of the timeframe.

Well, we knew now that the damage had been done to Tower One, not our Tower, so we relaxed a little bit about evacuation. Nonetheless, many people in the first minute had bolted for the stairs and were on their way down. Good news in retrospect, but at the time it was like, Oh boy, I guess we don't have to leave. The TV sets were telling us, and now there were photographs of One World Trade Center and the smoke coming out of the upper floors, I think the 92nd floor and above. The fire marshals like myself were content to let people go or stay. Really, in a way, it didn't matter.

I called my wife and told her, "You know, you won't believe this but Tower One has been hit. We are fine where we are. Relax, turn on the TV, there is a developing story there, find out what's happening."

THE ANNOUNCEMENT

At about five minutes to nine there was an announcement by the Port Authority within our building. First the strobe lights flashed, as they did during their normal fire drills. The alarm system gave a little bit of a whoop whoop, you know, to alert you to an announcement about to be made. Then the very familiar voice, the one we heard all the time, came over the system and said, "Building Two is secure. There is no need to evacuate Building Two. If you are in the midst of evacuation, you may return to your office by using the re-entry doors on the re-entry floors and the elevators to return to your office. Repeat, Building Two is secure...."

And they went through the whole story again. So this was reinforcement that there was no need to evacuate. I am strictly guessing but I would think we were perhaps down to about 25 people left on our floor at the time of the announcement. (I had gone for a walk through our office.) Now, as I say, the pressure was off, and there wasn't a panic, although we were greatly concerned about what was going on in Tower One.

If you went to the north wall windows, you could look up and see the flames and the smoke and regrettably people now starting to jump, because of heat, smoke, or whatever it was. I'm only telling this secondhand because I personally could not take myself to the window to view that. I just didn't want that image burned in my brain, and I'm forever grateful that I didn't go and take in that sight.

One girl in particular -- Susan her name was -- turned from the window when she noticed the first person for her jump. She hadn't noticed it before, and she spun around in tears almost frantically, ran to me, and said "Oh, Brian, it's terrible. People are dying." I said, "Susan, it's a terrible tragedy," and I put my arms around her, and I said "Come on, let's get you more composed," and we walked out of the trading floor down the hall. In the building the center core was crossed hallways. There was a north-south hallway and an east-west hallway. I walked with her from the east side through the center core to the west side, where the ladies room was, and she went into the ladies room. (Regrettably, Susan did not survive the eventual collapse of the building.)

THE SECOND PLANE

I continued on to the west side near my office. I was fairly near the windows talking with two or three people, including especially Bobby Coll. I was looking him in the eye having a conversation with him when at apparently 9:03 -- I didn't check my watch -- the second plane hit the south side of our building at approximately the 78th, 79th, and 80th floors. Our room fell apart at that moment, a complete destruction without an explosion -- very strange things. The lights went out, but we were near the window so there was daylight. Again, there was this sort of thump, this explosion without fire and flame, a very strange sensation.

There was a twist, if you like, to the building when it got hit, and therefore the plane's hitting explained some things to me later, like why the ceiling fell apart. The ceiling tiles and some of the brackets and so on fell; some air conditioning ducts, speakers, cables, and things like that that were in the ceiling fell. I seem to have a sense that some of the floor tiles even buckled a bit or were moved. Some of the walls, I recall vaguely, were actually torn in a jagged direction rather then up and down. Again perhaps explained by the torque, some of the door frames popped out of the wall and partially fell or fully fell.

For seven to ten seconds there was this enormous sway in the building. It was one way, and I just felt in my heart, Oh my gosh, we are going over. That's what it felt like. Now, on windy days prior to that there was a little bit of a sway to the building. You got used to it; you didn't notice it. The window blinds would go clack clack as they swung. As I said, for a good seven to ten seconds I thought it was over -- horrible feeling -- but then the building righted itself. It didn't sway back and forth; it just went one way, it seemed, and then back, and we were stable again.

I was looking at Bobby Coll square in the eyes, and we knew in an instant that it was terrorism. I mean, there wasn't for sure terrorism on people's minds when the first building had been hit. Was it pilot error? Was it instrument error? Or just a one-off suicide? Horrible as it was, you didn't know for certain that it was terrorism. But when the second building got hit you instantly calculated the two of them: terrorism.

THE EVACUATION

So we knew we were in a difficult situation at that point in time. I fortunately had a flashlight with me, and I'm glad I did. I switched it on, and we started out of the room. Our room was not black with smoke but sort of white with chalky construction dust. It was incredibly dusty and dirty as we made our way out of the room and over some debris that had fallen from the ceiling and so on past the ladies room where I had taken Susan maybe 10 minutes earlier, and we went to this center core, this crossroads in the middle of the building.

At that point, had we gone three or four yards straight ahead to the east, we would have come to Stairway B. I have no idea what condition it was in because we didn't know what had happened, we didn't know where this plane had hit, we didn't know if it was a plane, we didn't know anything other than suddenly we were in chaos and our building had been hit. I could have turned right three yards to Stairway C, closer to the impact point. I had no idea what condition that stairway was in. Miraculously, at random I turned left to Stairway A, which on the floor plate is the farthest from where the impact really was.

So we started down that stairway. We only went three floors. There was a group of seven of us, myself and six others. I remember some of the names. Now, I know everybody at Euro Brokers, but in my mind somehow I blanked out who those other grey shapes were; they were farther up the stairs a bit, not in the light of the flashlight. I do remember Bobby Coll, Kevin York, David Vera, and Ron DiFrancesco.

We met two people that had come up from the 80th floor, a heavy-set woman and by comparison a rather frail male companion of hers, a workmate. She was saying from the landing below, "Stop, stop you've got to go up," and she labored up to join us, moving very slowly; she was such a big woman. She said, "You've got to go up. You can't go down. There is too much smoke and flames below." I had my flashlight, and I was shining it in each face as people made comments, and an argument ensued as to what we should do.

THE RESCUE

At the same moment as this argument was going on I heard bang, bang, bang, thump, thump, thump, "Help! Help! I'm buried. I can't breathe. Is anybody there? Can you help me?," a strange voice coming from within the 81st floor. I heard this voice, and it caused me to lose concentration in this argument that was going on about whether to head up or down. I grabbed Ron by the sleeve, and I said "Come on, Ron. Let's get this fellow."

The fire escape door had blown away from the wall a bit, but we were able to push the dry wall back and step between the door frame and the dry wall, squeeze onto the 81st floor, which was in darkness, but again I had my flashlight. I scanned the room, and I said, "Who's there? Where are you?" He said, "Oh, I can see your light."

What my light beam was showing me was similar to being on a very foggy road at night, because it was white dust everywhere. He said, "No, to the right ... to the left ..." In about a minute, Ron and I located his voice. He said, "Can you see my hand?" His hand was sticking out of the wall, or not the wall but this area where he was covered and blocked by some debris. He was waving his hand frantically, and my light picked up his hand. I said, "Okay, see you now."

And at that moment my associate Ron who came down with me was overcome with smoke. He had a gym bag or a briefcase with him, and he was sort of putting it in front of his face in an attempt to filter the air. It clearly wasn't working, and Ron, with eyes shut, backed off the floor. He was almost completely overcome by the smoke.

Again, miraculously, I was in a bubble. I was breathing fine. I was squinting a bit, but I could work, and I struggled to get debris away from Stanley -- I found out later his name was Stanley Praimnath; he worked at Fuji Bank.

We got to the point I couldn't do any more work from my side, and I said, "You've got to jump. You've got to get over this last barrier." Well, he jumped once and fell back down. I said, "Come on, you've got to do this. It's the only way out." I reached in again, and Stanley jumped, and I got him by the collar or the shoulder or somewhere there. He said later that I just pulled him up like Superman. I don't remember having this extraordinary strength, but he says it really did happen that way. I pulled him out and onto me, and we fell in a heap and embraced. It was an exciting moment, it really was.

Now, Ron had gone. He had gone back to the stairway and was not there when we got back to the stairs. The other people had gone up as I left with Ron to go in on the 81st floor. I had this vision of Bobby Coll and Kevin York each with a hand under each elbow of this heavy-set woman starting to ascend the stairs, saying things like, "Come on. We are in this together. We will help you. Relax, we'll be with you." And up they went. And Dave Vera, who had a walkie-talkie, started back up the stairs as well. That's the last I saw of those people.

Now, I didn't know whether Ron had gone up or down, I assumed down because he was with me going down. I learned later that Ron went up; in fact, he went all the way up to the 91st floor. He later told me that he lay on the floor there for 10 minutes until he panicked. He told me, "I had to see my wife. I had to see my kids at all costs. I was gonna make it out." And he went to the stairway and went all the way down, following me, I guess, by five to seven minutes, because I took my time going down the stairway. It was not intentional; it was just that some events happened.

THE DESCENT

So Stanley and I went back to the stairs on the 81st floor, and we began down. The first five floors were difficult, because in certain areas dry wall had been blown off the wall and was lying propped up against the railing. We had to move it, shove it to the side. The sprinkler system had turned on and had started to do something, but it wasn't doing its job as it should, so there was water sloshing down the stairways. It was dark.

Now, the stairways didn't go straight down. There was one particular area around the 78th floor, I think, where you actually came to some strange twists. So we had to figure that out in the darkness, but we made some fortunate decisions. Around the 74th floor, I would say, we broke into what I call fresh air. The lights were on. It was normal conditions. There was not a problem breathing, and there was nobody there, not a soul, just Stanley and me. We were starting to have normal conversation. He was cut and bruised a bit, but he was fine conversing. I think he had his shirt off; he was just in his undershirt.

We continued on down. On the 68th floor, we met one man walking up. The man's name was Jose Marrero. He worked for Euro Brokers for many years. He worked in our security department, and he was also one of our fire marshals. Jose, I learned later, had been with many people of ours all the way down into the 30s and 40s on the stairway and figured, I guess, that he had done his job. Then he heard Dave Vera, who had started down with me, on his walkie-talkie saying that he needed help; he was helping people, could he get help.

So Jose, hero that he was, was walking up, perspiring, carrying his walkie-talkie. He said, "Oh, I can hear Dave above. I'm gonna help." I said, "Jose, Dave's a big boy, he can get out. We've just come through hell to get here. Come on down with us." "No, no, no," he said. "I'll be fine. I can help." Then Jose kept marching up. Jose was about 35 years old and quite fit, but when I passed him he was understandably laboring to climb the stairs. But he kept going. I don't know how high he got or what he found.

Stanley and I continued down until we got to the 44th floor -- straight shot, saw nobody. On the 44th floor we went off, because I knew that was one of the sky lobbies in the Trade Center. There were sky lobbies on the 44th and 78th floors. Conditions on the 44th floor were normal other than there was nobody there, except for one -- I'm guessing at his age -- middle 60s, maybe 70s even Port Authority security guard who was tending to a Caucasian male lying flat on the floor moaning in pain, with massive head wounds. The security guard was saying, "I need help. My phones don't work, but I need medical attention for this man. I'll stay with him, I'll tend him, but you must promise to get help as soon as you can telephone somebody." Stanley and I said "okay" and went back to the stair.

THE CONFERENCE ROOM

We went down again. Nobody on the stairway at all. Easy travel, just the two of us. Lights on, fresh air all the way down to the 31st floor, where we went in at random and got into somebody's office. I don't know whether it was an advertising agency or a lawyer's office; I don't know whose it was. We got into their conference room, and each grabbed a phone.

I called my wife to tell her here's where I am; we'll have this great celebration at home. I hadn't talked to her since about five to nine, I suppose, and this was about 20 to 10. My wife had turned on the TV, and the first thing she had seen was the second plane slam into our building. So she had no idea where I was for that 45-minute stretch. I told her I was fine. Stanley talked to his wife, told her similar news.

I then called 9-1-1 -- coincidence 9/11 -- and was put on hold. This was a disturbing thing at the time. I got ahold of them right away and told them about this fellow on the 44th floor that needed medical attention, but they put me on hold. They said, "You must tell your story to somebody higher up the chain" and clicked me off. I'd wait until somebody came on, I'd recite the story, and "Oh, just a minute. You must tell somebody else." I mean, there was something clearly odd about what was going on there. They were answering the phone in a hurry, and I understand now they were completely overwhelmed at the time.

I was asked for a third time to tell somebody else my story, and I just laid down the law. I said, "No. I have given you the details. Here they are one more time," and I wouldn't let that person off the phone. I said, "I'm gonna tell you this once, and then I'm hanging up." I went through the details about the 44th floor, man on the ground, need a medic, need a stretcher, goodbye." I put down the phone. I don't feel badly about that but it was a strange, strange event in the midst of this whole story. We were probably in that conference room for four minutes I would think, and then it was back to the stairs.

THE GROUND FLOOR

Now, bear in mind we had no idea that the building was about to fall. We were taking our time. In fact, I said to Stanley at one point, "Hey, let's not go too fast here. I'd hate to break an ankle and have to walk 30 floors or something." So we took our time getting down. We went all the way down, again with nobody on the stairs, not firemen coming up, nobody else evacuating. So all the way down to the Plaza level. We came out by what's known as the "half-price ticket booth," where they sold theater tickets for half price. This was on the north side of the South Tower facing the Plaza.

We came out and stared, awestruck. What we looked at was normally a flowing fountain, vendors with their wagons, business people coming to and from the building, tourists everywhere. It was a beautiful people place, yet this area, several acres I'm sure, was dead; it was a moonscape. It looked like it had been deserted for 100 years, and we had just discovered it.

It was surreal, the whole thing was surreal. We stared at it for 20 or 30 seconds with our jaws dropped, saying, "What is happening here, this is very strange." We went down an escalator that wasn't working -- all electricity was off, other than the emergency electricity, I guess, in the stairway -- and through some revolving doors, because the women at the bottom of the escalator said to us, "If you're gonna leave the building you have to go this way, through there, and go down to the Victoria Secret shop, turn right, and exit by the Sam Goody store."

We knew where that was, so we walked very casually down that hallway, down the second hallway, and we were passing firemen and policemen who were going about their business, walking normal speeds. I didn't sense there was panic. It looked like they were under control, doing their job. There were other evacuees like Stanley and me, but there was no running or crowds. It was more or less deserted.

THE STREET

We got out to the south exit of Four World Trade Center on the southeast corner of the complex. Firemen and policemen stood at the door. One said, "Whoa, wait a minute fellows, if you are gonna cross Liberty Street, you had better go for it. There is debris falling from above." I recall saying, "Should I look up?" He said, "Well, I wouldn't. Just go for it."

I couldn't make myself do that. I crept out under the eaves, and I cautioned a look up this way and that way, and I said, "All right, Stanley, I don't see anything coming. Are you ready?" He said, "Yup," and after one more check, I said, "All right, let's go," and we ran across Liberty Street, which is quite wide at that point, several lanes. There was nobody there. It was very much like a demilitarized zone. There was no traffic. There were some emergency vehicles around but certainly no movement and really not very many people; people were noticeably absent.

Across the road you could see some people standing in doorways protecting themselves from anything that might have been falling. We ran across the street, past the fire hall, which is on the corner, and up another block and caught our breath. There was a deli owner there. I said, "Have you got any water?" He went in and just handed us this water in bottles and said, "Here you go." I said, "Thank you." He said, "In fact, here is a breakfast platter. I don't think anybody is going to be picking that up." And he gave me this great tray with some fresh fruit on it and some sweet rolls. He was a very generous fellow at the time considering the conditions.

I carried this with me another block to the west side of Trinity Church, where we met a couple of ministers. That's when Stanley broke down. He cried to these ministers, "This man saved my life." He completely broke down. I was overcome with emotion as well, and I said, "You know, Stanley, you may think I saved your life but I think you saved my life, too. You got me out of that argument as to whether I should go up or go down. I'm here, and I'm fine, and it's because of your voice in the darkness that I made it." We embraced, and the ministers had a quick prayer, and one of them said, "You know, the church is open if you would like to go in there."

THE COLLAPSE

Stanley and I looked at each other, and we nodded and said, "All right, let's do that." So we walked to the south side of Trinity Church, which is a street that slopes up. As we walked up it we got higher and higher, and with the wall in relation to us going lower, we could now turn around and see the World Trade Center. We grabbed onto the fence railing of the cemetery and looked through the grate up at the Trade Center, and Stanley said to me, "You know, I think those buildings could go down." I said, "There is no way. Those are steel structures. That's furniture and paper and carpeting and draperies and things like that that are burning." But I didn't finish the sentence when Tower Two started to slide down.

I would say that we'd been out of the building maybe five minutes when the building collapsed. It disappeared into its own dust. What I thought had happened at that instant was only the top third or quarter of the building down to the fire line had collapsed. It was a horrible feeling. I mean, our whole escape was horrible when it was happening, but you at least thought people had a chance -- until that moment. Then I knew that certainly in the top quarter of the tower there was no chance. We just stared at it in awe, not realizing what was happening completely.

We stared, watching, with nobody running or anything initially. But then this great tsunami of dust came over the church. Everybody looked up, and, as in a disaster movie, everybody started running in fear of the debris and dust that might be in there. But I knew there was nothing solid that was going to harm me, that the building hadn't fallen over. I knew that. But you didn't want to breathe the junk that was in there, so we ran down Broadway to 42 Broadway. We went into that building as the dust and smoke was catching up to our backsides. We got into that lobby with many other people, strangers doing the same thing. The air was clean in there, and people were milling around.

I realized then that I was still carrying the silly fruit platter, so I plumped that down on the reception desk there, and people started digging into it. It was an odd thing that I didn't just chuck it aside when I was running. I wasn't even aware that I was carrying it.

We stayed for at least half an hour, I suppose. The ash settled. We went out the east side of that building, which was onto New Street. It was like a winter's day, grey sky. I suppose it was a quarter of an inch of dust and ash everywhere, but it looked like freshly fallen fine snow. We walked in amazement down the street. I was still thinking, of course, that only the top part of the tower had slid off or slid into itself or something like that. No cell phones, no land lines were working. There was no way to communicate with anybody by telephone.

We wandered over to the east side of Manhattan, the East River. Stanley gave me his business card, and thank goodness he did, because in the crowd that was walking, he and I suddenly got parted. He just disappeared into the crowd. I yelled and looked and walked back and forth but he was gone. I was very grateful I had his business card at that point, because I knew that he was real. My initial thought was, Whoa, this was an angel; this didn't happen. It was a strange feeling that slipped over me. But, hey, I had his business card, so I knew he was real.

THE FERRY

I wandered up FDR Drive on the east side of the island, thinking I was going to have to walk to mid-town to somehow get home to northern New Jersey where I live. But in this fog, in this white, wintry day, I heard someone on a bullhorn, "Next ferry for Jersey City." That's strange, I thought. I didn't even know there were ferries over here. Well, what the ferry company had done was reroute their ferries to the east side of the island; there's a pier over there, Pier 11. I thought, This is wonderful.

I jumped on that ferry. They certainly weren't charging. We sailed around the southern tip of Manhattan, up the Hudson River, and as we got parallel to the World Trade Center -- the wind was blowing from north to south that day -- it was then that I and many other people realized for the first time that both towers were completely down.

I also realized that the first hint that I'd had of the second tower, that is, Tower One, coming down was when I had gotten on that ferry 15 minutes earlier, because a black cloud had enveloped the boat as I was getting on it. It was noticeable that with the South Tower, the one that fell first, the ensuing ash was white and grey, whereas with the second tower that fell, the North Tower, it was black. Now, if that was because it burned longer or what I don't know, but it was a noticeable difference.

But as we got parallel we could look over and see that both towers were gone. It was just a surreal feeling. Disbelief. How could this happen? Of course, at the time we knew nothing about the planes being hijacked, nothing about the Pentagon, nothing about the plane going down in Pennsylvania, or the FAA getting all planes out of the air. We were completely in the dark. But we could look off to the Trade Center on our right and see that this building I had worked in for 27 years was gone. It was a staggering thought. There was silence. People just couldn't believe it.

THE HOMECOMING

We sailed in silence to Harborside in Jersey City and got off the ferry. Well, I ran to the ticket booth. I think I was the first person there. I asked the lady if I could use the phone, and she said, "Absolutely." I called my wife, and I could hear the cheers back at home. This is now about 11:15, I think, and my building came down sometime around 10 a.m. The last time I had talked to my wife was at about 20 to 10, so for over an hour and a half she had no idea where I was. Certainly for an hour and 15 minutes she had seen the tower down and was quite beside herself.

Fortunately, the house was full of people. My wife, Dianne, had some neighbors there, members of our church, our minister. My older son, his wife and three children were there, along with my older daughter and my younger son and his fiancé. My youngest daughter is at school in Toronto, so she wasn't there, but it was a house full of people. So when I called, there was a great cheer of relief and just agony relieved.

They wanted to come and get me. I said, "Well, look, I know the traffic in the area will be horrible." So I ended up, with hundreds of other people, walking about a mile north. I was pretty tired at this point, but I walked that mile to the Hoboken train terminal. As I walked into the terminal at five to noon, there was an announcement that the 11:30 train, which had been delayed, would be leaving in five minutes. "All aboard for such and such a station," which was the station I needed to go to. So there was another bit of luck. I got on the train, and it left five minutes later.

I rode all the way to my station, got in my car, and drove the next 15 minutes to my home. When I hit the driveway, I honked the horn awfully loudly many times. There was then a front lawn full of tears and a reunion, and then for days the telephone didn't stop ringing. It was friends from all over the world, media, widows. (You know, we wouldn't call them widows at the time; their husbands were missing.)

Now, Ronnie, who I told you had gone up to the 91st floor and later told me he panicked and went down, when he exited the building it was at the very time when Tower Two was starting to fall. So the moment I was watching the building from Trinity Church was exactly the moment he was coming out of the same place I did, and he was caught in an explosion. He heard the explosion, swirled around, and a fireball was rushing at him from right at the doors where he was about to leave the building.

He put his hands up in front of his face and got blown many, many yards across Liberty Street, which I'd run across earlier. He was severely burned in the arm, he had head wounds, cracked vertebrae. He doesn't remember really what happened right after that, but he ended up at St. Vincent's Hospital. They called his wife and told her he was fine, but she was unable to get to him for a couple of days because all the routes and tunnels were closed; they weren't allowing access back into Manhattan.

He didn't remember much those first several days, but he is now back at work on a part-time basis recovering and doing a great job. He's one of the heroes in my mind, because of that determination to get out.

That's my story. It was a long, horrific day, but for me it turned out all right. For many others, I'm deeply saddened that they aren't here. We lost 61 people in total, some of whom I think were either caught in elevators coming back to the office or had come back to the office. We'll never know for sure whether it was a wingtip and flames that caused their demise right on the 84th floor in the east side of the building, where a lot of our traders were, or whether it was smoke when they went higher, or whether it was the collapse of the building. Nonetheless, as I say, we lost 61 friends -- dear friends that we worked with and laughed with for years.

[see also HolwickID #19847]

*

Sermon following World Trade Center attack. Matthew 24:36-46

SUDDEN DISASTER

===============

I. World Trade Center tragedy.

A. Like an apocalypse.

B. Reminder of Rapture.

II. Jesus' warning.

A. Day and hour are unknown.

B. What it was like in days of Noah.

C. God's Judgment is not a TV event.

III. Keep watching.

A. We would be more prepared if we knew the particulars.

B. Act as if everyday could be your last.

IV. Keep working.

A. The master should find you doing your duty.

B. Be faithful.

C. Be wise.

I've been on top of the World Trade Center many times. For thirty years of my life in the New York area, those towers dominated the horizon. I can't imagine they're gone.

But so much more than buildings collapsed that awful day when airliners became missiles and America itself became the battlefield. Thousands of lives came crashing down that day, too. The airline passengers, the World Trade and Pentagon workers, the rescuers who died trying to rescue - so many, gone in one awful, violent moment. And the countless loved ones, in some cases not knowing what happened to those they love, in all cases agonizing over the horrific circumstances of their death ... and the lifelong scars on those heroic rescuers, recovery workers, and medical personnel who will always be haunted with the memories of what they have seen.

But the carnage and shock of September 11 have touched every American. We've been glued to our news channels, repeatedly horrified by the endless replays and unfolding details of unthinkable scenes in places we thought invulnerable. Like the TV commentators, we try to put our feelings in words, but no words can really say it.

I remember vividly the first attack on the World Trade Center - we thought that was unimaginable! The morning after I arrived at an airport in another city, only to be greeted by a TV crew with videocam and microphone in hand. They were seeking comments from people arriving on the first flight from Newark that day. When they asked me my reaction to the Trade Center bombing, I could think of only one word to describe how so many of us were feeling after that shock - "Vulnerable."

As I'm hearing people trying to put their feelings into words today, that's the feeling I'm hearing the most. The very symbols of our financial and military security as Americans have themselves been attacked - one is gone, the other heavily damaged. We watched everyday people like us, doing things we do - passengers on a jetliner, folks at their jobs - suddenly wiped out en masse. We see the lists of fatalities - including CEOs, Chief Operating Officers, high-profile lawyers and entertainment executives - and we realize that, like those who died on the Titanic, success and position mean nothing when death strikes suddenly. We see our children trying to understand horrors a child cannot understand - let alone us parents who are trying to explain those horrors.

We feel vulnerable. It's as if some of our sense of personal security and safety came crashing down with those majestic towers. The banner headline of our local newspaper screamed, "Forever changed" - they're probably right. One woman said, "I'm scared" ... one man said, "It feels like things are out of control."

If your heart is like mine and so many others I know, it's soft and searching - and re-evaluating right now. While the events have been horrific, the questions we're asking - or ought to be asking - could, indeed, leave us "forever changed" - for the better. Questions like, "What are the things that really matter and the things that really don't - and which ones have I been living for?" ... "What have I got that will really last - no matter what tragedy comes crashing into my life?" ... "Am I ready for eternity, no matter how suddenly my time comes?"

We have seen how suddenly our towers can come crashing down, how quickly what I've built and who I've loved can all be gone. And our hearts are hungry for something we can anchor to ... for something to sustain us when the bad news is more than we can bear ... for something that will make us really safe.

When our President addressed the nation on this generation's "day of infamy," he alluded to the one Source of comfort and hope in moments like these. He quoted from that treasured 23rd Psalm found in the best-selling book of all times, the Bible - "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me." (Psalm 23:4)

Life has many "vulnerable" moments - when you lose your job, when you lose someone you love, when your marriage or your parents' marriage collapses, when the medical report is unsettling. But that "valley of the shadow of death" - that is, by far, life's most vulnerable moment. Yet the Bible holds out to you and me a security that can keep you safe even in that valley - and no matter what else comes crashing down in your life.

That security is a Relationship, a Person - "You are with me, Lord." All our lives we have been hungry for one "unloseable" love. And there really only is one. It's the love of the One who made you ... the One who you will meet on the other side of your last heartbeat ... the One whose love caused Him to literally lay down His life for you.

The safety our heart longs for is found in the arms of Jesus Christ. In God's own words, "Nothing will every separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:39) But in your vulnerable moments, your moments that are more than you can handle alone - those moments when you've gone seeking God - maybe you've realized that there is something that is separating you from Him. The Bible confirms that all the wrong things we've ever done have actually "separated you from your God." (Isaiah 59:2) This "sin" - our hijacking of a life that God was supposed to run - cuts us off from the very God whose love is our only safe place.

But that's why Jesus came. "God sent His Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins ... He sent His one and only Son that we might live through Him." (1 John 4:9, 10) Now all Jesus is waiting for is for you to grab His outreached hand like a person trapped in the wreckage would grab the hand of a rescuer. You can do that right where you are, this very moment. Just tell Him, "Jesus, I've lived enough days without You ... I'm sorry for running a life that You were supposed to run ... I want to belong to You ... I want to be changed forever."

Jesus liked to use the word "everlasting" to describe the kind of life He wants to give you. We have been reminded so powerfully that nothing earth has is everlasting. That's the time your heart should be turning to the only One who is - so you can know that you have a love you can never lose ... a security that can never be shaken ... and that you're ready for eternity, whenever it comes. No religion can even offer that kind of security or everlasting life, it is only found with a relationship with Jesus Christ.

You're vulnerable no more when you run to the safest place in all the world - "The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run into it and they are safe." (Proverbs 18:10)

[see also #20821 and #22737]

________________

Copyright © Ron Hutchcraft Ministries, Inc., PO Box 400, Harrison, AR 72602. Used by permission. Written by Ron Hutchcraft. "Practical Answers to Real Life Issues"

*

In Jeremiah 29:11-13 the Lord boldly declares: "I know the plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Those verses have never been truer for me than they were on Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001.

My office was ground zero for the jet that hit the Pentagon. My office was totally destroyed, most of my co-workers were killed or severely injured, but I was spared. On that particular day, I was at my apartment waiting to receive a baggage shipment.

I checked into the Pentagon on Sept. 4 for an assignment as the public affairs officer for the Deputy Chief of Staff of the Army for Personnel. I was assigned to a newly renovated wing of the Pentagon. I was overwhelmed by the strangeness of the Pentagon -- who does what, what my role is.

I went through the process of checking in and meeting everybody I would work with and completed my processing requirements by Monday, Sept. 10. As part of my arrival requirements, I worked with the Transportation Office at a nearby military installation for delivery of my household goods from Hawaii.

They initially set up the delivery for my shipment to be on Sept. 6. When I called back to check the confirmation of that date, the person I spoke to said that the previous clerk had dropped the ball and I would have to wait a week to get my goods delivered. I was a little angry, but I resolved to take it in stride and make another appointment.

Little did I know that the date I chose for the delivery would be a decision that saved my life. I thought that I might have to meet my new boss, Lt. Gen. Maude on Monday, Sept. 10, so I chose to have my baggage delivered on Tuesday, Sept. 11.

I was sitting on my balcony watching and waiting for the moving company truck that was to deliver my baggage to arrive at 9:32 a.m. when I heard what I thought was a sonic boom. Then I heard fire trucks and ambulances rushing through the streets. I turned on the TV and was appalled to see that an American Airlines jet had crashed into the Pentagon. My shock continued as I watched the news come in about the World Trade Center in New York. I was watching when the twin towers came crashing down. My reaction was that I was watching the end of the world.

Then the most tragic news of all hit me like a hammer blow. The office where I work was the impact point of the crash. I learned that my boss and many of my co-workers were unaccounted-for and that if I had been at work that day I would not be writing this now.

What I have come to realize is that I have been given the ultimate gift from God -- my salvation. If I had been there that day, I would have been ready for God to take me home. I also realize that I have been given a second gift, that God miraculously spared my life that day. I am truly grateful to Christ who gives me strength.

Some people describe me as lucky and that I was saved by a coincidence, but I believe that I am blessed. I know who saved me and his name is not luck. I do not believe that anything happens by accident. I believe that God spared me for his purposes; I have to be still and let him reveal his purpose for my life. Until that happens, I will tell everybody that I can about my miraculous gift.

I pray for all those people in our country who are searching for answers, that they will find the ultimate answer I have found -- Jesus Christ. The Bible says that no man knows the time place of his death; therefore, be watchful and sober for the Lord will come like a thief in the night. My prayer is that those who were not ready to meet their maker found Jesus in those last few moments of their lives just like the thief on the cross.

In closing, I pray that every man, woman, boy and girl who reads my words will consider the meaning of life. I pray that after their careful and prayerful consideration they, like me, will give their life over to Jesus Christ and trust him as their Lord and Savior. I promise that if they do that they will have the promise that Jesus gives everyone, that they will have life and have it more abundantly.

I also pray that every Christian would be bold in their own witness. I believe that we have a narrow window of time to reach the lost because people are now open to the Word and because Jesus Christ is coming soon. We may have been born for such a time as this.

_______________

Childress is the public affairs officer for the Deputy Chief of Staff of the Army for Personnel. He is a member of the First Baptist Church of North Spartanburg, S.C., and the brother-in-law of Keith Andrews, pastor of Padgett's Creek (S.C.) Baptist Church.

*

Attacks-Quotes

The Associated Press

9/11/01 11:52 AM

"This is perhaps the most audacious terrorist attack that's ever taken place in the world. It takes a logistics operation from the terror group involved that is second to none. Only a very small handful of terror groups is on that list." -- Chris Yates, an aviation expert at Jane's Transport magazine.

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"Today we've had a national tragedy." -- President Bush, from Sarasota, Fla.

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"My mother is going crazy. I just hope (my brother's) alright. He's my work-out partner. He's my hangout partner. I'm just in shock now." -- Edwin Cruz, 34, whose brother, Richard, works in the World Trade Center.

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"I heard a `boom.' People were jumping off the building everywhere. They were just jumping." -- Serena Mays, a construction worker on the Williamsburg Bridge, which leads into Manhattan from Brooklyn.

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"Everyone was screaming, crying, running, cops, people, firefighters, everyone. It's like a war zone. There are many injured." -- Mike Smith, a New York fire marshal.

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"It's just sick. It just shows how vulnerable we really are." -- Keith Meyers, 39, of Westerville, Ohio.

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"It looked like a ticker tape parade because there were parts of the building floating down with the dust." -- Matthew Low, 29, of Manhattan.

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"I just can't believe what's happened. God, my heart goes out to all of these people, believe me. I just hope there is justice." -- Martha Ridley, whose daughter died in the April 1995 Oklahoma City bombing.

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"The fact is that there is a level of sophistication and coordination that no counter-terrorism expert had ever previously anticipated, and we don't have a group that we can immediately identify that has this kind of capability." -- Anthony Cordesman, a terrorism expert from the Washington-based Center for Strategic and International Studies.

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"I just saw my two towers fall. I'm devastated beyond belief. In many respects this is significantly worse than Pearl Harbor, and we don't know who the enemy is." -- Lewis Eisenberg, chairman of the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey, which operates the World Trade Center.

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"All of a sudden there were people screaming. I saw people jumping out of the building. Their arms were flailing. I stopped taking pictures and started crying." -- Michael Walters, a freelance photo journalist in Manhattan.

Copyright 2001 Associated Press.

It was a Friday night and I was on duty at one of our busier fire stations. But the 24-hour shift was going unusually slow.

"Could we actually have an easy shift on a Friday?" I thought to myself. I figured I'd throw a piece of chicken on the grill while things were quiet. But chicken never made it to the grill. Instead, the tones sounded and we were dispatched to a "shooting!"

Little information was available. I hurried toward the rescue truck, my imagination running rampant. How many people were hit? Are there still bullets flying around at the scene? I expected anything and everything.

Making our way through traffic, I put on my latex gloves. Shootings always mean a lot of blood. This would be no exception.

Turning into the neighborhood, I observed a large gathering. There were four or five police units around the scene, which was comforting. We then got our first glimpse of a young man lying in a pool of blood. I grabbed my trauma bag and headed to his side.

I noticed he had at least two bullet holes. One in his shoulder; the other entered through his upper arm. He opened his eyes only momentarily to loud verbal stimuli. We quickly pressure-bandaged the bleeding holes and placed him in a military anti-shock suit to improve his blood pressure. We then strapped him the backboard and lifted him onto the stretcher.

He no longer opened his eyes. As we wheeled the stretcher toward the door, a lady came out of the crowd. She began calling this man's name. She yelled words I will never forget: "Listen, man, you remember that prayer I told you to pray? You'd better pray it!"

We loaded the stretcher. She yelled again, "That prayer I told you about - - you'd better pray it!"

We closed the back doors. She stood there sobbing, unsure he had heard her.

This paramedic heard her, though, and I wondered about the prayer -- was it a prayer of salvation, or ritualistic words with a magical healing power, or just some cultic chant? We successfully transferred our victim to the emergency room staff and hoped he would make it.

As I lay in my bunk that night, the woman's mysterious prayer plagued my mind. The more I considered it a prayer of salvation for his lost soul, the more judgmental and bitter I became. Who does this guy think he is -- calling on God for a bailout, at the last moment!

We found out he was a notorious drug dealer and the shooting was drug- related. He chose to live this way, I thought. He's on a stretcher dying and she's reminding him of a last-minute prayer to get saved! Who would make a deal with God at the last minute? Certainly not me, right? Wrong!

A few months later, I was called out on a warehouse fire. There was imminent danger of a back draft causing a life-ending explosion. My lieutenant and I crawled through thick smoke in search of the fire. As I was hanging on to the hose line for dear life, I felt parts of the roof land on my air pack and helmet.

"Oh no, this roof is going to fall and trap us!" I thought.

"I'm going to die in here," I feared. "I really am."

I began dealing with God. "Lord, if you'll just get me out of here, I'll teach Sunday school and I'll help with the youth -- just don't let me die in this building!"

The Lord wasn't ready to take me home that day. We managed to crawl back out of that building before a large section of the roof collapsed. After catching my breath, I realized I was no different from the man and woman at the shooting incident. I, too, was dealing with God in the face of a crisis.

The man survived his shooting and I survived that burning inferno. I wondered if he ever prayed that prayer. I may never know, but I do know that I thank God for his great forgiveness, his awesome mercy and his unfathomable love - all through his Son, Jesus Christ.

I also learned that God doesn't want us making deals with him, and he doesn't want us judging others as I did. His desire for us, as Proverbs 3:5 puts it, is to obey him, trust him with all our heart and not rely on our own understanding.

Do not wait to acknowledge Christ as Savior and Lord. For we never know when our last alarm will sound.

__________________

Neiman is a firefighter/paramedic with the Fort Pierce/Saint Lucie County Fire District in Florida and an ordained Southern Baptist minister.

*

On November 9 and 10, a series of severe thunderstorms spawned tornadoes from Louisiana to Pennsylvania. At least three dozen people were killed and dozens more wounded by the storms, the largest single outbreak since May 1999.

Perhaps the hardest-hit region was East Tennessee. But in the midst of the chaos and suffering, those with eyes to see can witness how Christianity has shaped and continues to shape American life.

In Morgan County, Tennessee, two twisters left sixteen people dead, dozens wounded, and dozens more without homes. As devastating as the storms were, the response of the people in Morgan County was even more remarkable. Less than twenty-four hours after the storm, Morgan County was overflowing with relief supplies -- not from the government, or from outside, but from within Morgan County.

Without being told, ordinary men and women donated "every variety of household good imaginable": clothes, toys, toiletries, linens, and food. As one volunteer told National Public Radio, the donations included nearly everything you would need to start a home.

And the donations weren't limited to material goods. Volunteers donated their time and labor to make sure the stuff got to those who needed it. And they opened their homes, as well as their wallets: The two shelters that were set up by county officials to house the sixty families left homeless by the twisters were empty. Family or friends took in all sixty families. Amazing!

The county's Emergency Medical Services director Steven Hamby cited Tennessee's nickname: the Volunteer State. But there's a better explanation for this extraordinary response, and it is found in the way that Christianity has shaped how Americans think about their obligations to their neighbors. This is especially true in a place like East Tennessee, where biblical faith still exercises a strong influence on people's lives.

In his classic book, DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA, Alexis de Tocqueville marveled at the way Americans looked after the common good. He marveled at the way Americans helped each other: building barns and churches, starting civic associations, and founding common schools.

He described Americans as "extraordinarily gentle, empathetic, and compassionate people," and he wrote that "there is no country on earth where people make such great efforts to achieve social prosperity."

The impetus behind this social prosperity, as de Tocqueville understood, was Christianity. It was Christianity that taught Americans about the love they owed each other, as well as owing God. It was Christianity that made Americans the empathetic and compassionate people de Tocqueville marveled at. It's the command "to love our neighbors as ourselves," and not utopian government visions, that moves people to think beyond their rights and narrow interests.

Morgan County is filled with just this kind of people, who still take seriously the Christian commands -- down-to-earth, God-fearing rural folks. Whether or not these folks are rich in material goods, these folks are rich in the more important things of life: character, community, and caring for one another.

FURTHER READING & INFORMATION

Listen to NPR's November 12, 2002, ALL THINGS CONSIDERED broadcast, "Tornado-Ravaged Towns Begin Recovery Process." http://discover.npr.org/features/feature.jhtml?wfId=840853

Ina Hughs, "Church is gone, but faith still strong," Knoxville (TN) NEWS-SENTINEL, 18 November 2002. http://www.knoxnews.com/kns/local_news/article/0,1406,KNS_347_1552714,00.html

Alexis de Tocqueville, DEMOCRACY IN AMERICA (Alfred A. Knopf, 1994).

William Wilberforce, A PRACTICAL VIEW OF CHRISTIANITY (Hendrickson, 1996).

_________________________

Copyright © 2002 Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with permission. "BreakPoint with Chuck Colson" is a radio ministry of Prison Fellowship Ministries.

*

"On September 11, 2001, three thousand innocent civilians died. That same day, thirty thousand children died of disease and starvation. God cares as much about the latter as the former. Do you?"

Dr. Tony Campolo

*

In their new book, BEING THE BODY, Chuck Colson and Ellen Vaughn tell this story of transformation:

As John’s train chugged across New York City, he looked skyward with pleasure. The day was crisp and perfectly clear. It was the perfect day for a breakfast meeting atop the World Trade Center.

As John got off the escalator toward Tower One, the woman behind him stumbled and fell. John turned to help her up, gathering up the papers that she had dropped.

But John’s thoughtful actions caused him to miss an elevator. When the doors to the next elevator finally opened, John hustled in. Before the doors closed, he heard an immense explosion.

Stepping back into the lobby, John saw chunks of concrete falling like hail. Through the smoke, he saw human bodies hitting the ground outside with horrific force.

John ran outside. Hearing the sound of a low-flying jet, he looked up in time to see it smash into Tower Two. Then John ran for his life.

An hour later, covered in ash, John stumbled into a homeless shelter a few blocks away. On the wall was a Bible verse: “Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

A young African-American man with a missing tooth handed John a bottle of cold water. “Come on,” he said gently. “We’ve got showers upstairs. You can get that stuff off you.”

“That would be great,” John said. “But I don’t have another shirt, and this one’s ruined.”

“That’s okay,” the man said. “You can have one of mine. I have two.”

John had been a religious skeptic for years. But on the Sunday following September 11, John attended Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan. As Pastor Tim Keller taught the Scriptures in light of the events of the week, John heard a quiet affirmation of truth that struck a chord somewhere deep in his soul. To his own surprise, John joined a weekly small group. His intellect had been satisfied by Keller’s articulation of the Gospel. And in that small group where people poured out their hearts and met one another’s needs, John saw that Christianity was real. It was more than reasonable ideas and ideals. It was a way of life for real people in the real mess of this world.

For many, Ground Zero is still a raw and open wound. Where, they ask, was God on September 11?

Certainly the “wild truth,” as G. K. Chesterton called Christian theology, can address such questions persuasively. But for many, the presence of Christ in a broken world is best demonstrated by deeds rather than words. And the challenge for today’s church is not so much convincing skeptics of the truth of the Gospel as it is really believing it ourselves — believing it in the radical way that compels us to be the body of Christ, undeniably alive and facing the world as it actually is with its disappointments, fears, death, and devastation.

FURTHER READING AND INFORMATION:

Charles Colson and Ellen Vaughn, BEING THE BODY: A NEW CALL FOR THE CHURCH TO BE LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS (W Publishing, 2003).

Learn about the upcoming BEING THE BODY SEMINAR taking place May 18! To learn which church in your area is showing the seminar, call 1-800-321-6781.

Chuck Colson recommends reading “QUESTIONS ON EVERYONE’S MIND“ by Tim Keller, pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church. “It’s some of the best apologetics I’ve seen,” says Mr. Colson, “in the wake of the terrorist attacks of September 11.”

G. K. Chesterton, ORTHODOXY (Waterbrook Press, 2001).

BreakPoint Commentary No. 021119, “LOVING YOUR NEIGHBOR IN TENNESSEE: CHRISTIANITY AND AMERICAN COMPASSION.”

Joe Loconte, “THE BOOK OF JAMES,” WEEKLY STANDARD, December 30, 2002.

____________

Copyright (c) 2003 Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with permission. "BreakPoint with Chuck Colson" is a radio ministry of Prison Fellowship Ministries.

*

[Original illustration at this number was a duplicate of HolwickID #4738]

February 1, 2003, I kept getting phone calls: “Jerry, have you heard about what happened to the Space Shuttle? Jerry isn't it terrible that the Columbia Space Shuttle exploded? Jerry, the Space Shuttle blew up over Texas. Jerry, isn't it a shame that those Astronauts died in that Space Shuttle Disaster?” And on and on... Since people know that I don't watch TV, they decide to call me and tell me when something really bad happens... Well, it's been some time since the Columbia Space Shuttle Tragedy and I have been thinking about what one of the people asked me... “Jerry, isn't it a shame that those Astronauts died in that Space Shuttle Disaster?”

Thinking about this question led me to learn more about the Seven Astronauts that were on board the Columbia Space Shuttle... I learned a lot about the lives of 45-year-old Mission Commander Rick Husband, 41-year-old Pilot William McCool, 48-year-old Payload Specialist Ilan Ramon, 41-year-old Mission Specialist Kalpana Chawla, 46-year old Mission Specialist David Brown, 43-year-old Payload Commander Michael Anderson, and 41-year-old Mission Specialist Laurel Clark... As I learned more and more about these seven individuals, the more I thought about that question that was asked of me... “Jerry, isn't it a shame that those Astronauts died in that Space Shuttle Disaster.”

Of course I was touched and saddened by the entire situation that happened, however, I soon realized that these Seven Astronauts were doing something that they loved with a passion... This had been their lifelong dream... They looked up at the Stars as children and had visions of the possibilities... They invested the better part of their lives just preparing for the opportunity to be selected to go on such a mission... They were definite about what they wanted to do with their lives and they were committed to making it happen... Did they realize the possibility of failure? Well, they were some of the most intelligent people on the planet so of course they knew about the risks and the possibility of failure... However, they also knew of the possibility of success and the rewards of personal fulfillment and inner peace that comes with the accomplishment of something that you feel is your mission or purpose or destiny in life... And they were willing to put everything on the line and go for it...

So the more I thought about that question I was asked, “Jerry, isn't it a shame that those astronauts died in that Space Shuttle.” The more I answered to myself, “NO,” it isn't a shame... The shame is in the millions of people who die in the confines of their own fears... The shame is in the millions of people who never take a chance at living out their dreams... The shame is in the millions of people who quietly submit to a life of misery and mediocrity... The shame is in the millions of people whom “Softly Tip-Toe through life trying to arrive at their graves' safely.”

That's the shame... There's no shame in doing something that's constructive, creative, and that makes a contribution to the rest of the World... Not going for your dreams... Not doing what you love... Not making a difference... That's the shame...

Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “If you haven't found something you are willing to die for, you aren't fit to live.” One of the astronauts - David Brown - was asked before the Columbia took off, “What if something went wrong and you didn't make it back?” David answered, “I want you to find that person that made the mistake, and I want you to tell that person that I hold no animosity... I died doing what I loved.” Ladies and Gentlemen... That's not a shame... That's beautiful...

My Question to You is this: When your life comes to an end (yes, you can't get out of life alive)... Will you have been brave enough to... Do What You Love?

*

It happened around noon on Mother's day. According to a national news report, twenty-seven-year-old Michael Murray decided to take his two children to the medical center where their mother was on duty as a surgical nurse. The family wanted to drop off some Mother's Day presents: a gold necklace with the words “Number 1 Mom,” and a single rose. With their mission accomplished the father and his two children made their way back to the darkened indoor garage where the car had been parked.

Murray gently set the infant seat and three-month-old Matthew on the sunroof of the car and turned his attention to buckling Matthew's twenty-month-old sister into her seat and drove off, forgetting that Matthew was still on the roof. Moving slowly from the darkened garage into the bright sunlight, Murray drove through busy streets toward Interstate 290. Despite heavy traffic, nobody beeped or waved to warn him that anything was wrong. Pulling onto the expressway that cuts through the city, the driver accelerated to 50 miles-per-hour and then he heard it, a scraping on the roof of the car as the tiny seat with Matthew strapped in began to slide. He said, “I looked to where Matthew should have been in the car, and then in the rear view mirror I saw him sliding down the highway in his infant seat. “That's where he landed. In the middle of the interstate, in the path of oncoming traffic....”

The car seat flew off the roof and hit the road and was sliding down the highway almost as fast as the cars were coming toward it. An antique dealer named James Boothby was following the Murray car when he saw the whole event unfold right before his eyes. He saw young Matthew sail off the roof and hit the road. He said: “I saw something in the air. At first I thought someone had thrown some garbage out the window. Then I saw it and thought it was a doll. Then the doll opened its mouth and I realized this was a little baby. It just landed on the road and slid along a bit. I slammed on my brakes and turned my car around in the lane so that no other cars could go by. I jumped from the car, and I ran and found an uninjured baby in an undamaged car seat, and scooped him up in my arms and took him back and gave him to his petrified father.

The story is hailed as being an example that miracles, true miracles still happen today. However, I can go one better than that. Any time a person calls out in true and sincere sorrow over his or her sins and invites Jesus Christ into his or her heart, that is an even greater miracle.

*

[Original illustration at this number was a duplicate in KeruxID 25837-26027]

If you live on the East Coast, there's one word that's probably sure to get your attention - hurricane! Now I'll tell you, Hurricane Hugo was one of those mega storms that really got our attention. You could watch the news for several nights before Hugo arrived, and they'd show you this cyclonic circle inching across that weather map toward an uncertain destination. Half a million people were evacuated from Florida to the Carolinas, not knowing where that destructive little circle on the map was going to land. Finally, it became clear that Hugo's 130 mile-an-hour winds were going to slam ashore at Charleston, South Carolina. The challenge for public officials was to convince everyone that it was time to move. The mayor at the time gave a very solemn warning to the people there. He was quoted as saying, “Hugo is a killer. If you stay, you may very well die.” Well, that was true then. It's true now.

I'm Ron Hutchcraft and I want to have A Word With You about “Dying from Doing Nothing.”

Our word for today from the Word of God comes from the prophet Ezekiel in the Old Testament, chapter 18, beginning in verse 30. He says, “...Repent! Turn away from all your offenses; then sin will not be your downfall. Rid yourselves of all the offenses you have committed, and get a new heart and a new spirit.” And then God asks a very pointed question, “Why will you die...?” And then He turns it around and He says, “...Repent, and live!” In the Bible the word repent always refers to changing your mind about your sin. Whatever you've been cuddling and tolerating in your life that's wrong, you turn your back on it. You change your mind about God, and you pin all your hopes on Him instead of on you.

Remember that mayor of Charleston? He said the hurricane was a killer. Well, God is saying here that the sin you and I have is a killer. With a hurricane, those who don't leave might survive, but when it comes to sin, there are no survivors. There are eternal consequences of not dealing with our sin. But then, sin kills even now. It blows apart marriages, it damages the people you love with your temper, it ruins the purity and the beauty of sex, and it destroys your reputation. The people who die in a hurricane, they don't have to do anything to be killed by it. Many of them just die from doing nothing; just staying where they are.

And that's how it is with sin. All you have to do to have this life cheapened by sin is to do nothing. All you have to do to spend eternity in hell instead of heaven is to do nothing. Stay as you are and sin will kill you. God says, rid yourself of your sin. Get a new heart, and you can only do that at the cross where Christ died for you, where He said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” He was forgiving you and me when He said that, and giving us the possibility of a new beginning and a new heart.

God's been warning you, and He's saying if you stay where you are, you will die. Don't flirt with disaster. In fact, that's why He brought us together today and He asked me to talk about this. If you want to be sure that you're ready for your appointment with God, that you have a love relationship with Him, would you please first of all tell Him today, “Jesus, I'm Yours.”

Move away from living your way. The storm is closer than it has ever been to your coast. Flee right now to the only safe place there is - the cross where Jesus died for you.

________

Copyright © Ron Hutchcraft Ministries, Inc., PO Box 400, Harrison, AR 72602. Used by permission. Written by Ron Hutchcraft. "Practical Answers to Real Life Issues"

*

NAVALADY, SRI LANKA - Two hundred yards away from the beach, in the orphanage he had built, Dayalan Sanders lounged in his bed early Sunday morning. He was thinking, he said, about the sermon he was scheduled to deliver in the chapel in half an hour. A few yards away, most of the 28 children under his care were still in their rooms, getting ready for services.

Then he heard the pounding of feet in the corridor outside his room, and his wife burst through the door, a frantic look on her face.

“The sea is coming!” she said. “Come! Come! Look at the sea!”

Thanks to quick thinking, blind luck and an outboard motor that somehow started on the first pull, the orphans and their caretakers joined the ranks of survivors of the epic earthquake and coastal disaster that so far has claimed the lives of more than 80,000 people in Sri Lanka and 11 other countries. This is their story.

FOUNDER AND RESCUER

It is also the story of their chief rescuer, Sanders, a Sri Lankan-born missionary and U.S. citizen whose mother and siblings live in Gaithersburg, Maryland. A member of the country's Tamil ethnic minority, Sanders, 50, studied to be an accountant before founding a missionary group and moving to Switzerland in the 1980s. In 1994, Sanders founded the Samaritan Children's Home in Navalady, a small fishing village that occupies a narrow peninsula in Sri Lanka. He built the orphanage with donations and money from the sale of his Maryland townhouse, he said.

On Sunday morning, Sanders said, he rose at his customary hour of 4 a.m. to wander the grounds and pray, then went back to bed. He woke up again around 7:30. He recalled the stillness. Not a breath of air stirred the surface of the sea. Small waves rolled listlessly onto the beach, then retreated with a gentle hiss.

It isn't clear who saw the wave first. His wife, Kohila, said she was alerted by one of the orphans, a girl who burst into the kitchen as Kohila was mixing powdered milk for her 3-year-old daughter. Kohila ran into the brilliant sunshine and saw the building sea.

Sanders ran outside and looked toward the ocean. There on the horizon, he said, was a “30-foot wall of water.”

With barely any time to think, let alone act, he ran toward the lagoon side of the compound, where the launch with its outboard motor chafed at a pier. By then, many of the children had heard the commotion and had also run outside.

A moment later one of the older girls thrust his toddler into his arms. Sanders heaved her into the boat, along with the other small children, as the older ones, joined by his wife and the orphanage staff, clambered aboard. One of his employees yanked on the starter cord and the engine sputtered instantly to life — something that Sanders swears had never happened before.

Crammed with more than 30 people, the dangerously overloaded launch roared into the lagoon at almost precisely the same moment, Sanders said, that the wall of water overwhelmed the orphanage, swamping its single-story buildings to the rafters.

As the compound receded behind the boat, Sanders said, he watched in amazement as the surging current smashed a garage and ejected a brand-new Toyota pickup. “The roof came flying off — it just splintered in every direction,” he recalled. “I saw the Toyota just pop out of the garage.”

The vehicle bobbed briefly on the surface, collided with a palm tree, then slid over the edge of the compound in the torrent before slipping beneath the rapidly rising surface of the lagoon.

NEW WORRIES

The ordeal did not end when the boat pulled away from the shore. Not only was water cascading over the lagoon side of the peninsula, but it also was pouring in directly from the mouth of the estuary about two miles away. Sanders feared the converging currents would swamp the small craft. With the water pouring into the mouth of the lagoon, he then began to worry that waves would overtake them from behind, swamping the small boat. Reasoning that it was better to hit the waves head on, he said, he ordered the driver to reverse direction and head back toward the ocean.

As the waters began to roll back out to sea, the turbulence subsided. It was then, Sanders and his wife recalled, that they became aware of the people crying for help as they bobbed in the water nearby. They had to leave most of them behind. There wasn't any room.

Eventually the boat made it to the opposite shore, about 1 1/2 miles away in Batticaloa. The Sanders, their daughter and perhaps a dozen of the orphaned and now displaced children have found temporary refuge in a tiny church; the rest have been sent elsewhere.

The scene at the orphanage was one of utter devastation. Several buildings were wiped away, and the others were damaged beyond repair.

Surveying the wreckage, Sanders broke down and cried. “Twenty years of my life put in here, and I saw it all disappear in 20 seconds.” The orphanage had no insurance.

But Sanders also was philosophical about his loss. “If there was anyone who should have got swept away by this tidal wave, it should have been us,” he said. “We were eyeball to eyeball with the wave.”

The scale of suffering and the magnitude of the disaster in Southeast Asia defy the imagination. Sitting comfortably in our own homes and offices, we can look at the images, video segments and computer simulations, knowing all the while that, in the nations that encircle the Indian Ocean, the death toll continues to mount.

This much is clear -- the direct death toll from this disaster is likely to reach 250,000, and subsequent deaths related to the disaster may drive the total number of deaths to well over half a million. Those numbers are hard to take, but the video images are even harder to see. Satellite pictures taken before and after the massive tsunamis struck unprotected coastlines tell the story. Before the tsunami, a thriving region is clearly visible. In the aftermath, entire towns, villages, and cities have been wiped off the map. A wall of water traveling several hundred miles an hour and reaching the height of a multi-story building slammed into Thailand, India, Indonesia and Sri Lanka with devastating force. At least nine nations were affected, with some of the waves bringing destruction as far away as Somalia on Africa's eastern coast.

The magnitude of this disaster is multiplied when we realize that these very areas most devastated by the tsunamis are among the most impoverished and helpless regions of the earth. On December 26, 2004, families were washed away, children were ripped from their parents' arms and suffering beyond description settled upon the earth. Why?

That question comes immediately to the mind of any sensitive person and any individual whose mind is allowed to rest for even a moment upon the magnitude of this disaster. At the first level, the scientific explanation seems clear. A massive earthquake, registering over 9.0 on the Richter scale, occurred more than six miles beneath the surface of the Pacific, just off the Indonesian island of Sumatra. In an instant, one of the most beautiful parts of the world became one of the most deadly, as successive mountains of water radiated from the epicenter of the quake and headed for some of the earth's most densely populated coastal areas. The sliding of tectonic plates beneath the surface of the ocean led to massive devastation and a tidal wave of grief and questions.

How do Christians explain this kind of suffering? What do we have to say about the meaning of an event like this? In short order, questions like these found their way to the front pages of newspapers and the front lines of our cultural conversation. All too soon, confusion was evident, as various religious leaders offered advice and counsel.

Writing in The Guardian, reporter Martin Kettle put the problem in clear form: “Earthquakes and the belief in the judgment of God are, indeed, very hard to reconcile. However, no religion that offers an explanation of the world can avoid making some kind of an attempt to fit the two together.” As Kettle asserted, “As with previous earthquakes, any explanation of this latest one poses us a sharp intellectual choice. Either there is an entirely natural explanation for it, or there is some other kind. Even the natural one is by no means easy to imagine, but it is at least wholly coherent.”

For the atheist or agnostic, the natural explanation will suffice. Those who hold to a naturalistic and materialistic worldview will simply see this disaster as one more meaningless event taking place in a meaningless universe. As British philosopher Bryan Appleyard concluded, “The simple truth is what it has always been: nature, uncontrolled, unbidden, unpredictable, can still humble our pride and wreck our schemes in an instant. We are a thin film of thought confined to a narrow band around an undistinguished planet orbiting a pretty average star.” In other words, this is just one more accident taking place in an accidental world, observed by accidental human creatures.

The challenge to the Christian faith is clear, even as it is often crudely put forth by secular critics. If God is both omnipotent and benevolent, how can disasters like this happen? This question was stated concisely by playwright Archibald MacLeish in his Pulitzer-prize winning play, “J.B.” Through his character Nickles, MacLeish poses the theological challenge: “If God is God, He is not good; if God is good, He is not God.”

An example of how not to give a Christian answer was provided by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams. Writing in The Sunday Telegraph, Williams said this: “Every single random, accidental death is something that should upset a faith bound up with comfort and ready answers. Faced with the paralyzing magnitude of a disaster like this, we naturally feel more deeply outraged -- and also more deeply helpless. We can't see how this is going to be dealt with, we can't see how to make it better. We know, with a rather sick feeling, that we shall have to go on facing it and we can't make it go away or make ourselves feel good.” The newspaper headlined the archbishop's column, “Of Course This Makes Us Doubt God's Existence.” After the article was published, the archbishop protested the headline, and his spokesman claimed that the paper's characterization of the archbishop's article was “a misrepresentation of the archbishop's views.”

In response, the paper acknowledged that while it may have misrepresented the archbishop's argument, nevertheless, “he himself must accept much of the blame.” Surely speaking for the paper's readers as well as its editors, the paper observed, “His prose is so obscure, his thought processes so hard to follow, that his message is often unclear.” In exasperation, the paper simply concluded, “If Dr. Williams hopes to teach and inspire his flock, he really must learn to express himself more clearly. Otherwise he will be forever doomed to be the victim of his own erudition.”

In Australia, much closer to the tragedy, the Anglican dean of Sydney, Phillip Jensen, explained that natural disasters are a part of God's warning that judgment is coming. Jensen was right of course, as Jesus Himself pointed to natural disasters as a warning to human beings of our own mortality and of the coming judgment of God. Nevertheless, this was too much for more liberal churchmen in Australia. Neil Brown, dean of Saint Mary's Cathedral (Catholic), described Jensen's comments as “a rather horrible belief when you begin to think about it.”

Well, that's orthodox Christian theology, when you think about it. Jesus clearly warned His disciples that famines and earthquakes, along with wars and other ominous phenomena, would be the “birth pangs” of coming tribulation and judgment (Matthew 24:7-8).

This is no time for theological hand-wringing and evasion. A great tragedy like this often is the catalyst for bad theology offered as soothing counsel from religious professionals.

A faithful Christian response will affirm the true character and power of God -- His omnipotence and His benevolence. God is in control of the entire universe, and there is not even a single atom outside His sovereignty. And God's goodness and love are beyond question. The Bible leaves no room for equivocation on either truth.

We must speak where the Bible speaks, and be silent where the Scripture is silent. Christians must avoid offering explanations when God has not revealed an explanation. Finally, Christians must respond to a crisis like this by weeping with those who weep, by praying with fervent faithfulness, by offering concrete assistance in Christ's name and, most importantly, by bearing bold witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ -- the only way to bring life out of death.

God wants to use Louisiana Baptist churches in ways they never imagined in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, Rick Warren said Sept. 6, 2005.

“I came from California to say don’t miss this opportunity,” Warren, pastor of Saddleback Church in Lake Forest, Calif., told a Louisiana Baptist disaster relief worship rally Tuesday evening at Florida Boulevard Baptist Church in Baton Rouge.

“People will be more open to the Gospel over the next 90 days than they ever have been in their lifetime,” Warren told evening rally. “God is looking for people to use. If you say, ‘God use me and my church,’ He’ll use you in amazing ways.”

In the days ahead, discouragement could affect those who are impacted by the hurricane, Warren said, encouraging such individuals not to succumb to that temptation.

Citing the Book of Nehemiah, Warren listed four causes of discouragement:

• Fatigue

“Some of you have worked really long hours,” Warren said regarding the hurricane’s aftermath. “And some of you are fatigued.”

• Frustration

“You’ve seen physical rubble in this state,” Warren said. “What is the rubble in your life? It’s the trivial things that waste your energy.”

• Failure

Halfway through the rebuilding process of New Orleans, Warren said people will feel a sense of failure. “Their confidence could then go down the drain and they’ll become discouraged,” he said.

• Fear

When people are fearful, they tend to criticize, threaten and ridicule others, Warren said. “When you have fatigue, frustration, failure and fear, you then have a good case for discouragement,” he noted.

However, Warren said the Old Testament book also offers four cures for discouragement:

• Rest one’s body

Resting on the Sabbath was so important that God included it as one of the Ten Commandments, Warren noted.

“When you see a state so devastated by a natural disaster, it’s easy to work each day,” he said. “But there will always be people in need and you need a day off.”

• Reorganize one’s life

When Christians become discouraged, Warren said they may be doing the right thing but in the wrong way. The solution is to try a new approach, he said, noting, “I never call anything a failure. I call it an experiment.”

• Remember the Lord

“Remember His goodness, power and closeness in your life,” Warren said.

• Resist the discouragement

Warren pleaded that when people begin to repair their homes or minister to hurricane evacuees, they must not let Satan prevail.

“You don’t have to give in to the devil,” he said. “Great people are just ordinary people who refuse to give in to discouragement.”

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Brian Blackwell is a writer with the Baptist Message, newsjournal of the Louisiana Baptist Convention.

I have found that my most faithful and loyal co-workers have grown out of situations of turmoil, conflict, or great upheaval emotionally. Such situations are rare opportunities to show conviction under great heat and pressure. It is God’s sovereign way of using painful circumstances to draw out those with like convictions about Christ.

In San Luis Potosí in the early stages of beginning the new work, we began to have weekly Bible study with two sisters and their husbands, Rodrigo, a construction worker, and Adrian, a head waiter. Within two months they all had believed in Christ. Rodrigo began to visit family members with whom he had not spoken in years. His ten brothers and sisters, all immoral and conflictive, were impressed with the change in him.

Four months after becoming a Christian, he fell onto a piece of steel rebar sticking up out of the concrete. It entered the back of his head. The doctors at an antiquated government hospital ignored the family for twelve hours. Nothing was being done for Rodrigo. I was able to get a private doctor, a specialist, to come and look at him. He was brain dead -- no hope.

Then came the attacks: “See, this happened because he was unfaithful to the Virgin, and he was studying with those gringos.” We had to deal with superstitious, irate, and drunk relatives for five days in that smelly and inefficient hospital. Death finally came and there were arguments over whether mass should be offered. At the wake, we were going to sing hymns. “Unheard of” was the complaint. I had to travel ten hours through the night to drop off my daughter and another girl to work with a medical caravan.

I returned for the funeral at a dusty uncared-for cemetery. Chaos is the only word to describe the whole situation. I stood on a mound of dirt, holding up Rodrigo’s Bible. He had written, “I believed in Christ March 7, 1990.” Over the wailing, I explained what that meant.

All week Adrian had been watching me as I, a stranger among them, attempted to stand for the truth that Rodrigo had embraced and his family worked to destroy. He saw me dealing with feuding relatives, incapable of loving each other. He saw me constantly fighting back tears for a man I had only known six months. In the midst of chaos, emotional trauma, and my own bumbling inexperience, he had a glimpse of the Christ-like fiber that can bring purpose and order in the midst of confusion.

Adrian, with deep emotion, expressed his sense of indebtedness. That week a co-worker was born. God had sovereignly provided the painful means by which to make us soul-mates.

Sermon in Nehemiah series. Nehemiah 1:1-6

THE WALLS ARE BROKEN

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I. When bad news arrives.

II. Take it to the Lord.

A. Nehemiah prepared himself for serious prayer.

B. His God was an awesome God. 1:5

C. Sin stands in the way. 1:6

III. Only God can make it happen.

A. Nehemiah reminds God of his promises. 1:8

B. He asks God to give him success. 1:11

IV. God grants an opportunity.

A. The king notices Nehemiah's sadness.

B. Bible's fastest "quickie prayer." 2:4

C. The way God can answer prayer.

V. Everybody has some broken walls.

A. Cities are not the only things that have disasters.

B. How are you going to handle it?

C. Be ready to take advantage of divine opportunities.