January 26, 2001. "Republic Day" for the nation of India. A day commemorating the ratification of their national constitution. A day of remembrance and celebration. A day for ceremonies and pageantry.

January 26, 2001. I had traveled all night on the train from Madras to Kerala, a state in south India. I was standing outside when I heard this low rumbling noise echo through the air. I remember looking up in the sky, seeing it cloudless, and wondering what it was that I was hearing.

After a few seconds it passed, and I went about my business.*

It wasn't until later that day that I began to receive word of the terrible calamity that had struck the state of Gujurat. At first, reports were very sketchy. Only as television and newspaper crews were able to get in did the full magnitude of what happened sink home. We were riveted by images of whole cities leveled to rubble, often with bodies trapped in the heaps.

Then came the numbers. The death toll quickly climbed to 10,000, then 20,000 then 30,000. Soon, one official admitted that the overall total was probably closer to 150,000, due simply to the fact that the remains of the destroyed buildings were inhibiting search and rescue efforts. Survivors, who lost everything, faced the unenviable task of completely starting over.

*Whether this was the earthquake I heard as it came through the region is a matter of speculation. The timing correlates with confirmed quake-related phenomena in the area.Mahakumbha Mela. A religious festival of significance to the Hindus. A time to have their sins washed away at the very "Gateway to Heaven", the confluence of two physical rivers, the Ganges and Yamuna, and a supposed third spiritual river called the Saraswati. Millions of people a day participated in the ceremonial dipping to be cleansed of their sins, and to display their dedication to the Hindu way of life.

As the crowds departed though, about 10,000 people - mostly elderly women - were left abandoned by their families without provision. The excuse was that they had "expended their utility", and why should they be a continuing drain on the limited resources which must sustain an estimated population of 1 billion people? Thus, in their time of greatest need, their "loved ones" for whom they had toiled and sacrificed for many years, forsook them. They left them to die. And the majority of them did.

Staring death in the face, as I was with these events, I realized I was also getting a new view of life. Every day, men and women are shaken by those things they cannot control, and abandoned by those things they hold dear. Thinking that they can find their security in this world, it suddenly moves without warning, leaving their lives a pile of rubble. Laboring hard for what the world's system claims will bring satisfaction and fulfillment, they discover that this same system only uses them to suit it's own purposes, leaving them at the end spiritually destitute, homeless, and hungry.

This is precisely why the Gospel of Jesus Christ is truly "Good News". He alone can be our satisfaction, and our security, providing an anchor for our lives that the world cannot shake. He has promised to "never leave us nor forsake us", even when we (too often) are unfaithful to Him.

I guess it's pretty obvious that those experiences in India left a deep impression on me, and I hope that this retelling of them will impress you deeply as well. More than ever before, I saw graphic evidence of the truth that man's life is "but a vapor, and full of trouble", and thus I was reminded again of the great need to take the Gospel to the lost. I am, of course, not just speaking of far off, exotic lands like India. The next time you are at work, school, the mall, a sporting event, or whatever, take a look around you - and remember that you are looking at people who, despite their smiles and dreams or stories of success, are being shaken and abandoned every day by those things they thought would satisfy.

People need the Lord. May He use us, in an increasing way, to bring them to Himself.

In His Service,
Stephen Tecklenberg,
President