by Mary Donovan
[ENS 2001-353] On November 13, I returned to St. Paul's Chapel to catch another glimpse of the continuing ministry there. The port-a-potties that stood in front of the church are gone and the wrought iron walls of the churchyard are covered with the now-familiar posters, messages, and photographs, with fresh flowers hanging in bunches here and there. The sidewalk along Broadway has reopened and is thronged with people, some bustling by and many stopping to read a sign or sign one of the large messages of support.
The large signboard at the entrance proclaims "Rescue Workers Only: We are not presently open to the public. Our ministry right now is to all of the courageous relief workers who are working at Ground Zero. We will be welcoming the public back to St. Paul's as soon as possible." A gentle guard at the entrance checks the tags of those who walk in.
Inside the dust and gloom of my previous visit are gone. The electricity is back on; the crystal chandeliers glisten and almost every available space on the walls and along the backs of the pews is festooned with messages of love and support from around the world. Hanging from the balcony are huge posters, one addressed "To New York City and all the rescuers: Keep your spirits up. Oklahoma loves you." On a huge American flag from Cedar Springs, Michigan, hundreds of hands cut from white tissue paper and signed by individuals are placed in rows on a red background to form the flag's stripes. They flutter in the breeze to add movement and life to the riot of color and decoration that is everywhere.
Blankets and pillows are still carefully folded at the end of each pew; a row of beds is now in evidence along the far left aisle. And still seated here and there throughout the nave are small clusters of people, some quietly talking, some simply sitting alone.
'We're here for you'
The first table you encounter sports a sign with the familiar shield and the words "The Episcopal Church: We're here for you."
Displayed there are stacks of the special "O God make speed to save us" edition of Forward Day By Day, pamphlets of Bible readings, small crosses free for the taking to become "the cross in my pocket" and beaded prayer ropes crocheted by the Sisters of St. Margaret. At the next table, the volunteer coordinator sits with her schedule calendar, volunteer sign-up sheet, and a constantly ringing cell phone. Bandaids, cough drops, medical supplies, etc. are still available, though in far smaller quantities. Coffee, tea, soft drinks and snacks are available at the back of the church. A podiatrist is at work in the George Washington pew; behind the screen to the left of the pulpit, chiropractic and massage therapy are available.
One is struck by the sense of steady efficiency that marks the atmosphere. The work here has been organized and regularized. The round-the-clock ministry is carried out by two teams of 12 volunteers, each working 12-hour shifts. Three hot meals are served at regular hours from a table at the back of the church (the weather forced the end of outdoor meal service on the porch.) Hot soup is provided at 3:00 a.m. for the nighttime visitors and the number of people seeking refuge during the night is about equal to those who come in the daytime.
"We're even providing wake-up calls," one person told me. "The workers just leave the time they need to be awakened along with the number of the bed or pew where they are sleeping and someone will tap gently on their shoulders at the appointed hour."
Volunteers from everywhere
The volunteers continue to come from far and near, mostly from Episcopal churches but also from other denominations and secular groups. The volunteers on Tuesday were from Octagon, a sports marketing company in Connecticut that has sent several teams. Each group is asked to bring a clergyperson with them, both to provide a spiritual presence at St. Paul's and to help process the experience back home.
The Revd Pam Strobel from Christ Church in Greenwich, Connecticut, was with the Octagon team that day. I spoke to her outside the church on Broadway where some volunteers are stationed with magic markers to hand to anyone who would like to add a note to the displayed posters.
"We do a lot of impromptu counseling with passers-by out here," Pam said, "and get lots of encouragement. I spoke with a rabbi today from London who assured me that his congregation back home was offering prayers for the people of New York."
Inside, Miriam Schroeder, a young graphics design artist with Octagon, told me why she was here. "Everyone sends money," she said, "but I really wanted to be here. I like being able to put my smile out there as the workers come though so hopefully they can walk away with a smile, too."
Pilgrimage place
Early on, Katherine Avery came to St. Paul's with a team from Church of the Advent in Spartanburg, in the Diocese of Upper South Carolina. She had just graduated from the University of the South at Sewanee and hadn't yet found a job. She has one now. As coordinator of volunteers and of supplies, she sits at the entrance desk with her cell phone in one hand and the daily schedule in the other answering questions from several directions at once.
"I will work here until they kick me out the door," she said. "This is so cool! It is so rare that people flock to a church just to give something. St. Paul's has become a pilgrimage place. It is awesome." She now has volunteers scheduled through December. Alternating with Katherine as volunteer coordinator is Diane Reiners, an actress who has managed to keep up her daily (or nightly) shift and also attend auditions and even work on a performance. "We are a site friendly to the construction workers and sanitation workers as well as the uniformed officers," she told me. "People who come in here acknowledge that they are in a sacred space, a place of God. They are tired and worn and they visibly find a sense of relief here.
"We will generally have about 600 people come through each night. The night visitors are quieter, they tend to come in alone or in pairs. Conversations about religion, about faith and God, seem more frequent at night."
Good safe food
Martin Cowart is the food service captain. He had operated a restaurant in Manhattan which had just closed and was pondering his next move when he had a call from his cousin, Courtney Cowart (a General Theological Seminary graduate who now works for the Trinity Grants Program). "Martin, we need someone who knows about food," was her invitation.
He came to St. Paul's and has been there ever since.
"The food we serve here must be safe, Martin explained. We can't put the workers we are feeding at risk. So we must not accept food donated by individuals, only food from kitchens licensed by the NYC Health Department can be served. Now we have regular deliveries in the type of hot trays that caterers use from some of the best restaurants in town-Bouley Bakery, the Waldorf Astoria, Eli's Bakery, Dallas Brothers Barbeque, Zabar's. We even had Cajun Caterers from Louisiana come up one week to serve jambalaya, red beans and rice and shrimp étoffée.
"We're serving 2,000 to 3,000 meals a day. All the workers tell us our food is the best available at Ground Zero. Some of this food is donated but we pay for most of it now. We've had innumerable gifts from churches and organizations towards the food fund."
Martin worked almost round-the-clock for the first few days. He has now developed a roster of friends who share the food service direction with him.
Radical hospitality
Religious services have resumed with a Eucharist held each day at noon, often with the visiting volunteer clergy serving with the Rev. Lyndon Harris at the altar. "We see many people awakened more deeply to faith," he said. "And some still wrestling with difficult issues and losses."
A few weeks ago on the The Oprah Show, Officer Douglas of the New York Police Department described the scene at St. Paul's Chapel as "an oasis of heaven in the midst of Hell." Harris wouldn't necessarily claim that description of the work. "Our mission is simply to offer radical hospitality to everyone who walks through these doors."
Sister Grace, a novice from the Society of St. Margaret who had been assigned to Trinity in August, has been a constant source of help and good cheer. She had gone for a much-needed retreat when I visited. In her place was Sister Christine, whose forthright manner and twinkling eyes made her easily approachable. I watched her show a big tough policeman how to light a votive candle, then she took his hand and they stood for a moment in quiet prayer.
Musical concerts entertain workers two days a week. Organized by Ralph Farris, musicians from across the city have offered a wide variety of musical programs-classical music, jazz, even rock and blues.
All this activity has strained the staff of Trinity Church which administers St. Paul's Chapel, as David Jette, Trinity's head verger, freely admits. "It pained me to see the podiatrists in the George Washington pew," he said. "And the thought of removing all the scotch-taped posters and pictures from the walls fills me with dread. And yet, never have I experienced Trinity feeling so right to me. Our history has connected the present work with the past and the future in a very real way. Trinity has never been more relevant to this neighborhood. We didn't have to invent what to do; we just had to be who we are."
Trinity's rector, the Rev. Daniel P. Matthews, is justly proud of what has been accomplished. He said, "Trinity is deeply grateful to the Seamen's Church Institute and the General Theological Seminary for the creativity and imagination they showed in beginning the ministry of St. Paul's and to all the volunteers from many different parishes and organizations who have helped to keep it going. We have also had wonderful financial support from around the country. St. Thomas' Church near Savannah even held a parade as part of its fundraising effort and sent us $10,000. It has been an enormous privilege for us to have been involved in this ministry."
Services resume
On other fronts, Sunday services resumed at Trinity Church on November 4--once the New York Police Department allowed access to the building. The chapel is open daily for the noon-day Eucharist, but participants must be directed up the left aisle because two jeeps equipped with cherry-pickers sit in the center aisle, lifting workers to complete the process of cleaning the ceiling.
"We are now being challenged to find creative ways of providing for visitors from all of the city, the nation and the world who want to make a pilgrimage to lower Manhattan to express their love and concern with those who have been affected by this tragedy," said Matthews.
Serving directly at Ground Zero was a group of Episcopal clergy specially trained to deal with the emergency workers and organized by the Bishop of the Armed Forces, the Rt. Rev. George Packard. That ministry too has been "regularized" and now all Ground Zero chaplains must be licensed, trained and deployed by the Red Cross. The Armed Forces office will direct any Episcopal clergy who want to volunteer to the proper Red Cross office. Across town at the Seamen's Church Institute, life is basically back to normal. Volunteers there are busy packing the boxes of Christmas gifts and handmade knitted sweaters, scarves and caps for "Christmas at Sea."
Heightened security concerns will make delivery of the boxes to ships along the inland waterways more difficult. In the port of New York, non-American seafarers cannot leave their ships so the chaplains must take their services aboard the ships.
Mary S. Donovan teaches history at Hunter College in New York, and is the author of A Different Call: Women's Ministries in the Episcopal Church, 1850-1920.