Volume 32

If you missed the story from January 2nd of this year, the 50-year-old construction worker was standing on a Manhattan subway platform with his two daughters when a man started to have a seizure. Autrey used a pen to keep the man’s mouth open until the convulsions stopped, then he went to get help from a station agent.

But 20-year-old film student Cameron Hollopeter got to his feet, stumbled and fell off the subway platform, landing between two rails just as the No. 1 train was careening into the station. “I had a split-second decision to make,” Autrey told the New York Times. With his heart pounding and the adrenaline pumping, the Vietnam veteran leapt onto the tracks, threw his body over Hollopeter and pressed him into a foot-deep drainage trench in the middle of the track.

Unable to stop in time, the train skidded overtop the two men as onlookers screamed in horror. “The only thing that popped into my mind was go into the gutter,” Autrey later told reporters. “I pinned him down. Once the first car ran over us, then my thing was keep him still. He was fighting and pushing against me, so I laid on top of him. The train was probably two inches off my back.”

In fact, the cars were so close they left grease smears on Autrey’s light blue hat. But both men escaped unharmed. “We’re okay down here,” Autrey called out from under the train and the crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

Since then the accolades have kept on coming. New Yorkers have showered him with gifts, including a medal from the city, $10,000 hand-delivered by Donald Trump and an invitation by President George Bush to attend the State of the Union address in which he was lauded for his bravery. But Autrey has remained persistently humble. “I don’t call myself a hero,” he says, “because the real heroes are overseas, dying for you and me.” And Autrey’s mother, Mary, has her own interpretation: “It was the Lord who did it. Can you picture it? He just rolled that train over him.”

That wonderful story of selflessness, even at the risk of self-sacrifice, is a reminder of what Christianity is all about. It has echoes of courageous, compassionate Jesus going to the Cross, covering us with his body and blood to save us from the penalty we rightly deserve because of our many sins. But the parallels don’t end there.

When our Father sees us struggling, convulsed by cares, conceit and self-condemnation, He seldom plucks us out of the path of the onrushing consequences. But He does send his Spirit to cover us with his power and presence. Just as the Holy One hovered over the face of the deep at the onset of creation, He protects us from destruction and keeps us still amid the terrors that envelope us. Often we fight and struggle to escape his care, not even recognising that He’s saving us from ourselves, our sin and our self-centredness.

It’s usually much later that we see what He’s done for us and acknowledge his great power — the same power that sustains the universe. “I am the Lord your God who stirs up the sea, causing its waves to roar,” He tells his people in Isaiah 51:15, 16. “And I have... hidden you safely in my hand. I set all the stars in space and established the earth. I am the one who says, ‘You are mine!’”

Those of us who know the richness of forgiveness and purpose in life are bound by duty and a love-debt to serve those around us. It may well be that we, too, will have to follow someone into the gutter, covering them with love and concern until they can get on their feet for good. Even then, we must testify to the one and only true hero — the One who died for you and me. But when we heed the close, deep call of God, we’ll truly make a difference. And no matter how bad it gets, we’ll be able to shout, “We’re okay down here.”

By Rick Gamble. Published in Cross Current, the weekly newsletter of the followers of Christ congregation in Brantford, Ontario, Canada. Reprint at will in not-for-profit publications. To subscribe to this free weekly article,