Five days after the earthquake that devastated their city, about 30 people from the small Lutheran community in Christchurch met on Sunday morning for worship services in their darkened church.

The services were gentle: some readings, some songs and some reflections from their pastor, David Lipsys. The previous night, working by torchlight, he had chosen Psalm 46 as the focus for Sunday morning’s meditation: ‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth should change, though the mountains shake’ (v1,2).

Worshippers were given time to share their experiences of the earth changing and the mountains shaking, not only on 22 February but also in the days since the massive quake. For many residents of Christchurch the aftershocks are deeply distressing. An estimated 70,000 people have flown out of the city and an unknown number have driven away to seek refuge with friends and relatives in other parts of New Zealand. Some have gone to Australia. Up to a quarter of the population of Christchurch has fled.

Much of the city was without power, water and sanitation services and, weeks after the quake, some residents are still waiting for services to be restored. Pastor David and Janine Lipsys are among them.

‘We’re managing, although my perspective on the world has changed’, a remarkably lighthearted Janine said. ‘When I went back to work for the first time after the quake. I thought the office was leaning to the left, but then I realised that I’ve become so used to our house leaning to the right that my entire world view is skewed!’ she quipped.

The Lipsys’s house, already damaged in the 7.1-magnitude earthquake in September, might not survive the assessor’s red pen this time. ‘It will probably have to be bulldozed’, Pastor David said.

A narrow escape

Judy Calder, chairperson of the Lutheran Church of New Zealand Council of Synod, lives with husband Bernie in picturesque McCormacks Bay to the south-east of Christchurch, less than a kilometre from the earthquake’s epicentre. When the earthquake struck, there was ‘an almighty noise’, the house lurched from side to side and furniture was thrown across the room. Judy grabbed her two-year-old granddaughter Eva and raced for the nearest doorway, escaping by centimetres as a large mirror flew off the wall and smashed into deadly shards of flying glass.

Referring to the September earthquake Judy said, ‘Last time we recovered fairly quickly; we were able to check on all our loved ones almost immediately. But this time we couldn’t get to anybody and we couldn’t phone anyone. This time everyone had to look after their own life.’

Judy and Bernie are staying with friends at Tinwald, 100 kilometres to the south of Christchurch, until they work out what to do next. Cliffs close to their home are unstable and are threatening to collapse as a result of persistent aftershocks. There is also the danger of landslips and falling rocks. ‘We’re not sure when we’ll be allowed to go back to our house, she said. ‘I ran out of there with just the clothes I was wearing. That’s all I have.’

The home of one of Judy’s daughters has been declared unliveable, and she and her family are trying to find a place to stay.

Floored it

At 12.51 pm, 22 February, Angela Klein, who works for a car detailer, was driving one of the cars to a petrol station. There was no warning, no sound, but suddenly the car shuddered.

‘It was like a sudden gust of wind had hit it’, she said. ‘But it wasn’t a windy day.’

Glancing out of the side window Angela saw a wall collapsing beside her. ‘That’s when I knew this was no gust of wind. This was bad. I floored it.’

In the rear vision window she saw the wall smash apart all over the road, missing her car by centimetres.

‘The road was getting really bumpy and wobbly’, she said. ‘The car was being thrown all over the place; I couldn’t control it. Other drivers were having problems, too, but I was more concerned about buildings coming down on me than cars running into me.’

By the time Angela had driven around the block and back to work, neighbouring car yards were under water. Her beloved scooter had been damaged by falling debris, so she pushed it home, about 12 kilometres.

Angela’s house survived the earthquake, but her workplace did not. She doesn’t know when or if she’ll be able to return to work. ‘I’m worried about the money side of things. We have a mortgage and we need two incomes. I’m not sure what we’re going to do.’

She’s courageous, though, and philosophical. ‘You can’t blame God for any of this. It’s happened, and you just have to respond as best you can. You have to pick yourself up and dust yourself off and keep plodding along.’

‘So very, very random’

While Angela was speeding away from a falling wall, Brian Thompson was in a meeting on the sixth floor in the building opposite the Pyne Gould building, where scores of people lost their lives.

‘Everybody rushed down the fire-escape stairs in darkness’, he recalled. ‘Outside you couldn’t see anything but dust. The road was warped and fractured and had opened up in some places. A guy in front of me, in a suit, fell into a hole full of water, up to his chest.

‘You didn’t know which way to run, where was safe. People were running everywhere, bewildered and in shock. I was okay until I saw the Pyne Gould building. Straightaway I knew people had been killed in there. I didn’t believe it possible for anyone to survive a building collapse like that. Some guys had found ladders and were trying to scramble up to get people off the top. People down at the bottom were screaming to people trapped up there.

‘It was total chaos — much worse than how it came across on the TV. I’m not surprised to learn of the number who were killed. There was debris everywhere ... masonry and rocks. And bodies. All the way down Manchester Street I could see bodies.

‘There were injured people lying on the streets. Some people were running around them and others were trying to help them.

‘I wasn’t in the London Blitz, of course, but it must have been some-thing like this. It was surreal. I couldn’t believe this was Christchurch. I couldn’t take it in; it didn’t seem real.’

A few blocks away, Brian’s son’s girlfriend was climbing out of her office through a gaping hole left after the building’s façade collapsed.

‘She climbed into a café where the roof had caved in’, Brian said. ‘People were still sitting there in their chairs where they’d been having lunch. Some were alive, and some were dead — so very, very random.’

Retired Melbourne couple Merv and Marie Scherer came close to being among the random dead. Minutes after they had left the cathedral, they were thrown off their feet by the ferocity of the earthquake. Behind them the cathedral tower crashed to the ground.

‘God was protecting us’, Marie said. ‘It’s clear that our time wasn’t up yet. We still have a longer road to travel.’

Though badly shaken, Merv and Marie are continuing their New Zealand holiday, having bought new clothes and medications, hired another car and replaced travel documents. They were not allowed to return to their hotel to retrieve anything.

They have been heartened by the care people have shown to them. On that first night, at around 10.00 pm, hot meals turned up for the thousand or so people sheltering in the park. And Marie says she will keep and cherish forever a little plastic box of essential personal items bearing the label, ‘A gift for you from the Red Cross’.

‘Little things mean so much to you when you have absolutely nothing’, she said. ‘We’re so grateful for the help the people of Christchurch gave us, even in the midst of their own personal crises — and to the wonderful people from the Salvation Army and Red Cross, too.’

But while they are being cared for along the way, Merv and Marie are feeling unsettled. ‘We keep looking at mountainsides and glaciers and wondering how we would get away if they came tumbling down’, Merv said. ‘And we keep hearing stories that there are going to be earthquakes in Wellington, where we are heading. They are probably just rumours, but this thing has really shaken us.’

Lutherans who have lived in Christchurch all their lives are shaken, too. While none of them lost loved ones, some members have lost homes or livelihoods, at least for the time being. All of them have lost their trust in the earth beneath their feet.

‘I’m no wimp’, Brian said, ‘but I’m nervous about going into multi-storey buildings.’

Angela wonders, ‘Will I ever feel safe here again? I think sometimes that this is just the beginning and there’ll be something bigger and worse. But I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it.’

Comforted, sustained

But while the earth shakes and buildings crumble, the church still stands. Christchurch Lutherans are still worshipping, praying and breaking bread together, and are supporting each other and the people in their communities as best they can.

The Lutheran Church of New Zealand has asked its members to host homeless people in their own homes or open up their holiday homes. Around the world Lutherans are praying for the people of Christchurch and sending messages of hope and consolation. From Australia the Lutheran Laypeople’s League has sent $50,000 for immediate practical support.

‘We have felt most supported by our friends and church families everywhere’, Judy said. ‘It is so comforting to know that people across the Lutheran world are praying for us. We are going to need those prayers for a very long time.

‘This time we will not be able to recover in just a few years. It will take much time to rebuild the whole city’s underground infrastructure systems and to rebuild the city itself. An unknown number of people have left for Australia permanently. It is too hard for many to try all over again.

‘The future for us? We don’t know. But we do feel strengthened, sustained and encouraged by all who are praying for us and all those who tell us they care. It’s like God is wrapping his arms around us.’