The first text message arrived on my phone only moments after first the pull of the trigger. Though the text’s details were inaccurate, they stopped me in my tracks. My mind raced and froze at the same time. I knew I had to respond but I didn’t know where to begin. I jumped in my car and headed back to my office. When I arrived my staff was in a prayer circle. At least we knew where to start.
My daughter asked if people would remember the shooting at Umpqua Community College on October 1, 2015 like they remember 9/11. “Most people will not,” I told her. “But, you will.” Last week Roseburg, Oregon shot onto the world’s stage when a gunman walked on to the campus of the serene school and murdered nine, physically injured nine, and ended his own life.
My daughter asked if people would remember the shooting at Umpqua Community College on October 1, 2015 like they remember 9/11. 'Most people will not,' I told her. 'But, you will.'
I am a pastor. I have been one for over 12 years. I moved to Roseburg in 1991 when I was in middle school, the same age my daughter is now. I finished high school and began attending Umpqua Community College studying drama and music. I eventually moved to Chicago, studied pastoral ministry at Moody Bible Institute and served at Willow Creek Community Church as a member of the drama team for a few years. My wife and I moved back to Roseburg when she was pregnant because we wanted to be near family for the birth of our first child. We never expected to stay and make this community our home, but we have, and it is.
I have served on staff at two thriving churches in Douglas County: Family Church and Redeemer’s Fellowship. This has helped me forge deep relationships with multiple pastors and churches. Healthy relationships and trust have helped pave the way for our collaborative and coordinated response to this shooting and the healing journey we are on.
No one is prepared for something like this. Getting crisis and trauma training is useful. But when the pain and suffering move from a book or slideshow and onto the faces and into the lives of the people you know and love, everything changes.
I have sat with victims of the shooting, family members, witnesses, and first responders. I have felt the pain now etched on the hearts and minds of people who will carry tragic and horrific images for the rest of their lives. Though my graduate degree is in counseling, I feel ill equipped.
Navigating a storm
The demands, both internally and externally, have been daunting. People want information about the incident and how the church is responding. People in our church want to know who has been affected. People in the larger community want to know what services your church can provide to people who have been impacted. People from all around the world want to know how the church is responding.
I’m learning that you simply can’t field every inquiry. Never did I expect the words, “I don’t have time to talk to The Wall Street Journal” to come out of my mouth, but they did. My church has fielded requests from all the major U.S. news media organizations and a few international ones, too.
Amid all the attention, it would be easy to get caught up by our community’s “15 minutes of fame.” The President of the United States showed up. The vans, trucks, cameras, and famous news anchors have been everywhere. They arrive on your church parking lot asking to come in and film during weekend worship services. In no time you can find yourself trying to accommodate all the requests and lose sight of your most important job: caring for the needs of your people.
During a crisis of this magnitude, people will come from everywhere to help. They are moved and want to do something. Many organizations have crisis response teams and they mobilize quickly. They often arrive before you have even asked the question, “Who do we need to help us?” Some of those responders are incredibly helpful. Others, not as much. I’m learning to say no, even to people with good intentions.
Unlikely partners
When a tragedy strikes, something odd happens in the community: all the “religious” people get lumped together. One of the leaders in our community used the term “the God people” to describe all faith-based responders. Whether we like it or not—and regardless of our theological distinctives—that’s how many on the outside view us. And that’s why partnering becomes so crucial. Fortunately we’ve been building the groundwork for effective partnership for years. We have a network of evangelical churches called Douglas County Evangelical Fellowship (DCEF). For years we’ve gathered monthly for lunch, fellowship, prayer, and to share about what is happening in our churches. This past year DCEF decided to take turns interviewing a leader each month, getting to know more about the person. Because of this I have forged deeper connections with other church leaders. I trust them, pray for them, and am more confident that I can stand with them, though we may not see eye-to-eye theologically.
In the wake of this crisis, I’ve seen the need for a wider network of relationships among churches linking Evangelicals, Catholics, Presbyterians, Methodists, Lutherans, and Seventh Day Adventists, and (dare I say it?) Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses. The fact is, the secular community lumps us all together as “the God people” anyway, and we should learn to work together. I am not advocating for watered down theology or sloppy ecumenism. But why not do work together to meet the needs of our community?
It has been over almost two weeks since the shooting. Most of us are physically tired and emotionally drained. We will continue to work to put the pieces back together. Our goal will be to return to some semblance of normalcy. But it will never be the same. Roseburg and Douglas County are discovering a new normal. My prayer? That our new normal includes a tenacious reliance on Jesus for the hope and healing we need. That people are willing to stand for their faith in Christ, regardless of the opposition they face. And that we church leaders will be emboldened to help others to find and follow Jesus.
Hugh Heinrichsen is pastor of spiritual formation at Redeemer’s Fellowship in Roseburg, Oregon. He is the husband of Peggy, and the father of Eden and Hudson. Connect with Hugh @pastorhugh.
