By Paula Schlueter Ross
The Rev. Ingo Dutzmann, pastor of First Lutheran Church in Boston,
chokes up when he talks about those who were bloodied and maimed in the
April 15 bombings, just four blocks from the church.
“To me, they’re all ‘we’ — we’re in this together,” he says.
Exhausted after an emotionally draining week, he’s trying to live up to
the “Boston Strong” motto, but points to the injured as the real heroes.
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The
Rev. Ingo Dutzmann, left, pastor of First Lutheran Church in Boston,
and Lutheran Church Charities (LCC) staff member Rich Martin return from
a walk to the bombing scene on Boylston Street with LCC Comfort Dogs
“Luther” and “Maggie.” (Lutheran Church Charities) |
There’s the woman “who thought she would lose her leg,” the wounds
were so bad, but she didn’t. Dutzmann and two Lutheran Church Charities
“Comfort Dogs,” with their handlers, were in her hospital room when she
took “her first steps” since the horrific blasts.
The dog handlers — who often are called to scenes of pain and
destruction — said seeing the young woman walk “was the best day of
their lives,” according to the pastor. All were teary-eyed, he said,
thankful to God for the woman’s good prognosis.
There’s the man who lost both legs, “who woke up [in the hospital]
and he was so happy that he’d lost his legs because he’d thought that
he’d died,” recalled Dutzmann. Even as a double amputee, that injured
marathon runner is embracing life, the pastor notes.
Dutzmann also recalled the positive spirits of a young, newly married
couple — each lost a leg and are recuperating in separate hospitals.
All in all, he’s ministered to probably a dozen or more bombing victims in four area hospitals.
The back-to-back homemade bombs killed three people and injured more
than 170. With one suspect dead and the other in custody, Boston
residents are relieved, but the pain is still there, notes the Rev. Dr.
Carlos Hernandez, director of Church and Community Engagement with the
LCMS Office of National Mission.
Two days after the bombings, Hernandez and LCMS New England District
President Rev. Timothy Yeadon were there, talking and praying with
people who stopped by First Lutheran Church, a church that “will never
be the same again,” according to Hernandez. “It is now known nationally
and internationally as a place of comfort in times of crisis.”
Still, “families, singles, students living around First will continue
to struggle to understand the meaning of this evil and ask, ‘Are we
safe here? Could this happen again? Why [is there] evil alongside a
caring God?,’ ” Hernandez muses.
With four local pastors present, the LCMS church opened its doors
within three hours of the 2:50 p.m. bombings and stayed open from 7 a.m.
to midnight for five days afterward. Five Comfort Dogs arrived the
evening after the blasts and stayed “on duty” — for bombing victims and
Boston residents as well as emergency and healthcare personnel — at the
church, on the street and in area hospitals through Sunday, April 21.
During the stressful week, Dutzmann was often out on the sidewalk in
front of the church, inviting strangers inside for free coffee and
snacks, conversation and prayers.
On Wednesday, April 17, Concordia Publishing House, St. Louis, delivered to the church 240 copies of a special edition of
Portals of Prayer that addresses the question “Where Is God Now?” The booklets include
60 “hope-inspired devotions” written especially for those affected by
disasters, along with a list of resources. Almost all of the copies have
been distributed to “very receptive” people, according to Elaine
Laaser, parish administrator at First Lutheran.
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A
memorial on Boston’s Boylston Street honors the memory of those who
were killed and injured in the April 15 marathon bombings. (Lutheran
Church Charities) |
Also in CPH’s package of grief-support materials were 20 copies of
Strength for the Day,
a resource for pastors that’s designed to help them deal with life
challenges such as stress, illness, fatigue, loss and anxiety.
“Our hearts were broken by the news of the bombings and we
immediately wanted to help,” said Amanda Christie, senior manager of
Corporate Communications and Publicity for CPH. “We have the good
fortune of sharing God’s Word with the world. But sometimes it’s our own
member congregations who need His Word most.”
Located downtown, First Lutheran Church was well-placed to reach many
people, noted Laaser. “On an average day, especially with the Comfort
Dogs there, we saw anywhere from 300 to 400 people,” she told
Reporter.
The dogs were a real asset, she said, because people “didn’t want to
talk about it”: They just wanted to pet the dogs and feel like
everything was going to be OK.
Even on Friday, April 19, the day Boston authorities asked everyone
to stay inside because the second suspect was still at-large, Laaser
took a call from a student at Emerson College who wanted to know if the
church was open and the dogs were there. The students — about 150 in all
— walked more than a mile from the college to the church in groups of
20 beginning at about 10 a.m. They were away from home and scared,
Laaser said, and “they would put their heads on these dogs and just
cry.” Many also prayed with Dutzmann.
That ministry of First Lutheran Church — and other ways LCMS
Lutherans have responded to the marathon bombings — were simply “a
desire to share the love of Jesus,” explained New England District
President Yeadon. In an interview with
Reporter on Friday,
April 19, Yeadon said, “I have personally seen the darkness this week,
but I have personally seen the light of Jesus shine! The darkness cannot
overcome that!”
Yeadon calls Dutzmann “a true saint” who “shows the love of Jesus to
all — church member or not.” Even though the Boston pastor “is tired and
worn and it may show … you will be amazed at his love of Christ and his
zeal, even now.”
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Students
from Emerson College in Boston pet “Addie,” a Comfort Dog, in the
courtyard of First Lutheran Church, Boston. The five dogs that spent a
week at the church were a real asset, according to a spokesman, because
people “didn’t want to talk about” the bombings: They just wanted to pet
the dogs and feel like everything was going to be OK. (Lutheran Church
Charities) |
Although Yeadon was unable to attend a special marathon-memorial
worship service April 21 at First Lutheran Church, he sent a letter to
the congregation that was read by former New England District President
Rev. James Keurulainen. (An earlier service planned for Friday, April
19, was cancelled because of that day’s citywide lockdown.)
“With Jesus on the cross, we can ask of our heavenly Father, in light
of last week’s events, ‘My God, My God … why?’ But with Jesus, we end
that conversation with our heavenly Father with the words, ‘ Father,
into Your hands I commit my spirit,’ ” Yeadon wrote.
“Even without total understanding, we can, with His help, place
ourselves into His hands once nailed to the cross for us all. We
remember that which connects it all, His words of ‘Father, forgive
them,’ and we know that in this broken world with terror and
unexplainable tragedies that the love of our God shines in the darkness —
and the darkness will not overcome it.”
On Tuesday, April 16 — the day after the bombings — LCMS President
Rev. Dr. Matthew C. Harrison released a prayer and a statement asking
for “blessings for the injured and strength for the bereaved” as well as
for doctors, emergency workers and city, state and federal officials
“as they face this evil in dedicated service.”
Said Harrison: “Like the death of our Lord Christ Himself, we pray
that, even in this dark hour, the sacrifice and pain of those affected
will not be in vain, but redound in good as yet unseen.”
He also shared from 2 Cor. 1:3-5, “For as we share abundantly in
Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort,
too.”
According to Laaser, some 30 nonmembers — including about 18 college
students — were among some 230 people who attended First Lutheran’s two
services on April 21. The congregation is planning a second memorial
service, she said, and wants people to know “We’re here to pray with
you, we’re here to talk to you.”
Dutzmann is considering making one or two Comfort Dogs a permanent part of the congregation’s ministry.
One of Laaser’s lasting memories, she said, is of seeing her pastor
out on the church sidewalk, encouraging passersby to “come on in.” Even
though there are many Christian churches in the area, Dutzmann was “the
only [pastor] I saw out there, actually standing on the sidewalk.”
Laaser said the whole week-long ordeal was wrenching and exhausting,
but, at the same time, she added, “I was just so honored and proud to be
a Lutheran.”