From Fire Came Forgiveness, and a New Sikh Temple

c. 2006 Religion News Service PALERMO, N.Y. _ When their leader in India gave them cryptic instructions to find a new spiritual home, a community of Sikhs in central New York followed their faith to a farmhouse. There, on the back roads of Palermo, they found the simple wooden dwelling they would make into a […]

c. 2006 Religion News Service

PALERMO, N.Y. _ When their leader in India gave them cryptic instructions to find a new spiritual home, a community of Sikhs in central New York followed their faith to a farmhouse.

There, on the back roads of Palermo, they found the simple wooden dwelling they would make into a temple called Gobind Sadan _ “God’s house without walls.”


They worshipped there for 15 years until, in an act of ignorance and intolerance, four teens burned the temple in the months after 9/11, mistakenly linking it to Muslim terrorists.

From fire came forgiveness.

The Sikh religion calls on its followers to practice tolerance and devote themselves to the will of God. So, after the tragedy, they asked God to have mercy on the arsonists. And then, from the ashes, hands and hearts extended to create a new temple.

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On Nov. 18, 2001, Jean Polly received a phone call at home from a leader at Gobind Sadan. “What do you mean, it’s gone?” Polly said.

The reply: “It burned to the ground.”

Fire investigators poking through the ruined temple instantly suspected arson. Sheriff’s deputies collected beer bottles and other evidence.

At twilight, a dozen worshippers met at the temple, now a smoldering skeleton on 223 windswept acres. They offered a prayer for the arsonists.

“If we’re believers in anything, we’re believers in forgiving those who trespass against us,” said Polly, a librarian from Liverpool, N.Y., who is a member of the community but not a Sikh.

“We pray the ignorance and hatred that led to this senseless act be taken away,” said Ralph Singh, one of the temple’s leaders. “We pray for forgiveness.”


Their holy book survived the inferno.

The burning floor collapsed upon the scripture, Guru Granth Sahib, which the Sikhs consider a living teacher. It came through the fire with only minor scorching to the edges of some pages.

“To us, it was a miracle,” Singh said. “To others, it was a sign that God does triumph over evil.

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Twenty years ago, they believe, God led them to this corner of Oswego County.

During a visit at Singh’s home in 1986, his teacher, whom his followers call Babaji, shared a vision.

The teacher told Singh to stand with his back to his garage, go north 45 miles, and find a widow who wants to sell her farm. “Go find her,” Babaji said, “and buy it.”

Throughout that autumn, Singh said,“My wife, Joginder, brought back pictures of a dozen farms for sale … . None of them was the right farm.”

Winter descended; the search was postponed. In spring, they received a mysterious call.

“I have a widow who’s a client of mine, and she’s thinking of selling,” Singh, 58, remembered the caller saying. “I thought we’d give you the first look.”


Singh said his heart skipped a beat. “We raced up there that afternoon and made a purchase offer. This was it.”

Transforming the dairy farm created an interfaith community. Nearly 100 Sikhs volunteered, along with several Christians.

Over time, the white, two-story house became a Sikh temple. The garage housed a sacred fire and meditation center.

Schoolchildren, Christian groups and others were taught at Gobind Sadan about the neatly wound cloths Sikh men wear on their heads in praise of God. “This is a turban of peace,” Singh told them.

Hundreds flocked to Gobind Sadan from a diverse array of religions, drawn by Babaji’s message of tolerance and peace.

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On Sept. 11, 2001, Jean Polly was stranded at Kennedy Airport in New York when the World Trade Center towers collapsed. She watched the disaster unfold on CNN.


Two months later, four teens carried thoughts of retribution with them as they approached Gobind Sadan in the darkness. They thought the Sikhs supported Osama bin Laden and the terrorist attacks.

Josh Centrone and Billy Reeves, then 18, and Cassie Hudson and Mitcheal Trumble, then 19, later told police they drank a couple of 12-packs of beer and smoked marijuana, then broke windows at the farmhouse with the empty beer bottles.

When they returned a few hours later, early on the morning of Nov. 18, Reeves used a can of motor oil to kindle a blaze. After the temple’s curtains caught fire, the group drove away. Later, they admitted to police they had left racial and religious slurs.

Gobind Sadan chairman Gurbachan Singh, who had come to Palermo from India a decade before, determined to fight fire with faith.

Singh (the word means “lion” in Punjabi; the name is given to Sikh men) said he found direction in the words of Babaji: “The real temple of God is a pure mind.”

“We are thankful to the young men who burned us down,” said the soft- spoken priest. “We do not hate them, we love them. Our people forgave them, no problem.”


In 2002, all four teens pleaded guilty to hate crimes. During his first year in state prison, Centrone wrote to Gobind Sadan, expressing his sorrow.

“I wish I would have learned or known a little more about your religion and your beliefs before I decided to get a little tipsy and take part _ I would have done things differently,” he wrote. Centrone was released Dec. 27, 2005.

Reeves, serving a state prison term of up to 12 years, wrote a reporter expressing his regret for the arson. “I’d say at least 30 times a day I find myself thinking about (that night) and wondering, `Why?”’ he wrote. “Still to this day I haven’t found an answer.”

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After the fire, the people Ralph Singh once taught about the “turban of peace” came from community churches and schools to rally around the temple.

Thousands of dollars in donations poured in. Sikhs came from New York, Toronto and Buffalo to devote time to what their faith calls “seva,” or God’s work. Entire families came to put up insulation or install wallboard.

Working alongside the Sikhs were members of the Rotary Club and the local United Methodist church and other local groups _ about 50 volunteers in all. In two years, they rebuilt the sanctuary bigger and more majestic than before the fire.


“It was done joyfully,” said Bob Serafini, one of the Christian volunteers. “If you can sit down with a Sikh in a turban and find out that he has the same concerns you do, to feed and clothe his family, you realize we’re on the same boat together.”

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On a recent weekend, the faithful came to pray.

Circling a sacred fire, about three dozen worshippers sang God’s praises, accompanied by a harmonium and soft drumbeats. Girls added incense and butter oil to the fire.

In a small makeshift temple, the same scripture that survived the fire was read for 48 hours straight during a weekend of prayer.

Close by, the finished temple stood silent. Babaji has yet to bless its sanctuary for services. The eternal flame cast shadows on a red chair that sits empty in anticipation of Babaji’s return.

“Everything grows out of his vision,” Ralph Singh said. “If we can listen to God’s teachings and build a place for peace and worship, then we will accomplish what Gobind Sadan is all about.”

(Douglass Dowty writes for The Post-Standard in Syracuse, N.Y.)

KRE/RB END DOWTYEditors: To obtain photos from the rebuilt Gobin Sadan Temple, go to the RNS Web site at https://religionnews.com. On the lower right, click on “photos,” then search by subject or slug.


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