Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves.
. . . But the Lord came down to see the city and the tower the people were building.” – Genesis 11:4-5 (NIV)
It has been my personal experience that, every now and then, God likes to command my full attention. Far be it from me to ever question why God is compelled to do this; I’m sure He has good reasons to. Oftentimes, He does it quite subtly, using a gentle whisper. After all, this method proved to be His most effective way of getting Elijah’s attention in the Old Testament. Because I have made a daily vow to try to keep my ears open to God’s whispers, I don’t quite understand why, sometimes, He feels it necessary to put on some big, dramatic, theatrical production – when a gentle whisper might have done just fine. Which brings me to my first tour of Vietnam.
No, not that kind of tour. The closest I ever came to Saigon (now Ho Chi Minh City), during the Vietnam War, was singing about it in cadence songs while marching around Ft. Knox, Kentucky, when I was going through U. S. Army Basic Training during the Fall of 1971. So, here I am, almost 50 years later, taking a bus tour through, what is now, a bustling metropolis of over 9 million people. After a visit to the former Presidential Palace (now known as Independence or Reunification Palace), with a stop at Notre Dame Cathedral and the Central Post Office, our bus dropped us off in front of the 68-floor Bitexco Financial Tower, the tallest building in the city. All of us were given the option of either going up to the Skydeck on the 49th Floor, or to use our time shopping in the surrounding stores and cafés. Not necessarily a big fan of tall skyscrapers, I still felt like I was being called to visit the Skydeck – so I did.
After paying for our entrance tickets, a group of us was escorted to the two elevators that were to take us on a very quick, 40-second ride up to the Skydeck, 584 feet above the ground. When the first elevator door opened, the operator directed nine of us to get into it. Just before the doors closed, two more people decided to join us, which made the compartment fairly snug. No one seemed to mind, as we were reminded by the operator, who stayed behind, that the trip would only last 40 seconds. The operator then pushed the button for the Skydeck, wished us well, and the eleven of us began our rapid ascent within the cramped quarters of our elevator compartment. Our ascent was monitored on a computer screen that displayed the floor numbers as they quickly changed over the next half minute. That’s when it happened.
Just as we were nearing our destination (the Skydeck on the 49th Floor), the elevator suddenly jolted and shuddered, and then screeched to a complete stop. The computer screen displayed the number 47. There was an immediate look of shock on the faces of everyone within the tight confines of our common space. “Oh, my God!” “What just happened?” “That didn’t sound good.” It took a little bit of time for all of us to come to grips with the fact that we had just abruptly stopped before reaching our destination. That’s when individuals began to offer up suggestions as to what we should do now. “Push the alarm button,” someone said. So, I did. A voice came on the intercom, but was difficult to hear because of the elevator music playing overhead. I explained that the elevator had just stopped with a jolt, two floors below the Skydeck floor. The man at the other end said for us to stay calm, and that he would get back to us shortly.
Two things I failed to mention are 1) that all eleven of us were part of a cruise ship excursion, and 2) that the Tet Holiday (i.e. the Vietnamese Lunar New Year) was in two days. In other words, most locals were more focused on the following day’s New Year’s Eve celebrations than on working. This fact begged the question, “Who’s going to rescue us, and how long is that going to take? We have a two-hour bus ride back to our ship.” After what seemed like an eternity, the voice came back on the intercom. When I told the man that it was hard to hear him, he informed us that there was he didn’t have the ability to turn off the overhead music. All he basically told us was that they had people working on getting us out of the elevator, and that it would probably take about 10-15 minutes for that to happen, so we should just be patient.
Fifteen minutes soon turned into 30 minutes, and we told again to just be patient, that they were working on getting us out. By now, some of the people were debating who we should call on our cell phones. One gentleman called our ship to let them know we were trapped in an elevator and to not sail without us. Someone else was trying to get through to the U.S. Embassy (as if that would do any good). For my part, I just tried to stay as composed as possible, while doing my best not to think about the fact that eleven of us were stuck in an elevator shaft, suspended by a malfunctioning cable system, some 560 feet in the air. Compounding that frightening reality was the fact that about every 15 minutes we were, once again, told to just stay calm, that help was on the way.
After a full hour passed, I could see that one particular woman, standing near me alongside her husband, was beginning to show signs of panic. That is when I decided to share how consoling I find The Serenity Prayer in times like this:
God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the Courage to change the things I can, and the Wisdom to know the difference.”
In the moment, I don’t think that the words of the prayer were even heard by her, yet alone understood. She was scared. Then the voice on the intercom informed us that they would have to shut down the computer momentarily to see if they could reboot the system. Naturally, when they did this the air conditioner would shut off and the elevator compartment, already jammed with bodies, would get even hotter and our air space stuffier. Over the next 30 minutes, they attempted to reboot the computer again and again, each time escalating the fear level within us. At long last, after 90 minutes of being stuck between the 47th and 48th Floors, we felt the elevator moving upward. Moments later, the doors were forced open from the outside, where a half dozen men were waiting to give us a helping hand by lifting us up unto the 49th Floor Skydeck, which was about three feet higher than the floor of our elevator.
We were immediately greeted by our two bus drivers who escorted us to the elevators at the other side of the Skydeck. I was so caught up in the moment that I don’t even remember observing the view outside the Skydeck windows. I just wanted to feel terra firma under my feet again. Once we had all descended the other elevators, we were all escorted back to the ticket booth, where are money was refunded to us, and each of us was given a small stuffed teddy bear as mementos of our ordeal. We then had to walk several blocks through town in order to rendezvous with the busses that would return us back to our cruise ship.
While waiting to cross the street, at a busy intersection, I took a moment to look up at the colossal skyscraper in which we had been suspended for an hour and a half. Just then, I was approached by the one woman who I had perceived as being the most frightened among us during our ordeal. With a beaming smile, she reached for my hand and said, “I just want to thank you so very much for helping me through that very frightening experience. I suffer from anxiety most of the time, so you can imagine how scared I was being stuck in an elevator for 90 minutes. It was your calm demeanor, and encouraging words, that brought peace to my heart. I just wanted to thank you for your prayer. It truly saved me from having a breakdown.” She squeezed my hand, said “Thank you” one more time, and then proceeded across the street with her husband.
As I slowly followed the rest of our group across the intersection, I considered the woman’s words. I turned to look, one last time, at the towering structure from which we had been delivered and thought how uneasy it must have been for eleven people to process their individual fears during those ninety minutes. I realized that I not only had the ability to bring serenity into my own inner Being, but, far more importantly, was able to share that peace with others. By God’s grace, I was somehow able to comfort another person, and assuage her fear, by doing or saying something that touched her deeply within. For it is only there where true peace is to be found.
When I entered those elevator doors, my only concern was my own ascension to the Skydeck on the 49th Floor. I had no thought about the other ten people ascending alongside me. Yet, each of us had the same goal in mind. We were all hoping to reach the same destination. That consideration didn’t occur to me until our mutual ascension was suspended for a period of time – time enough for me to understand.
Life is not just about our own personal ascension. We are here to help each other ascend through life, especially when we get stuck “between floors.” In other words, in the same way that God is always there to help lift us up, so, too, do we share a divine duty to lift up one another – with a helping hand, a kind word, or an act of compassion. But, unless we truly understand that, our own ascension will be suspended . . . until we do.
