Remembering 9/11

Bronze of Mary Magdeline at the Norbertine House

I am not a big fan of television, but there is one show, no longer on TV, that I really liked watching called West Wing.  It centered around the White House and the presidency of a character named Jed Bartlett, who, surrounded by his bright, articulate and committed West Wing staff struggled to steer a course between what is politically right—or I should say, politically expedient, and what is—reflective of his core beliefs.

One sequence I remember dealt with the difficult issue of capital punishment.  Jed Bartlett the man is opposed to the death penalty.  But Jed Bartlett has been elected by a country in which 70% of the people support the death penalty.  It falls to Jed to decide whether or not to commute his sentence.  It is an agonizing decision -one that he had not wanted to make, a cup from which he did not want to drink.  As the program progresses, he asks various aides, advisers and friends what they think of capital punishment.  Toby, who is Jewish, tells him that capital punishment is wrong.  Another aide, a Quaker, tells him capital punishment is wrong.  His Roman Catholic faith tells him that capital punishment is wrong.  Still he wrestles with his obligation to uphold the will of the people.  Should he follow his conscience—or uphold the decision of the Court.  In the end, he decides to allow the legal system to proceed, and the young man is executed. 

After that decision is made he meets with his priest who asks him if he prays.  “Constantly,” the President replied, “and I don’t get many answers.  I’m getting pretty tired of it.” Thoughtfully the priest tells him the story about a man who lived in a town where a hurricane was due.  Despite multiple attempts at rescue the man refused help saying that God would protect him, but in the end he drowned.  Marching up to the gates of Heaven, he demanded to see God.  “I had faith,” he cried, “I prayed, I believed you would save me from the flood.” God looked at him sadly.  “I sent you a radio message.  I sent you two guys in a rowboat.  I sent you helicopter.  What are you doing here?”

The priest looked at the President, sitting very quietly.  “God sent you a Rabbi.  God sent you a Quaker.  God sent you a priest.  What are you doing here?” The president looked down at his hands.  The priest asked, “would you like me to hear your confession?” The program ended with the President kneeling beside his priest’s chair, hearing him pour out his pain and suffering for the cup that had not passed from him.

Tuesday is the 17th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon.  It is one of those events that has left so great an impression on the fabric of society that life - as it was known before - no longer exists.  In those 17 years since, we have seen hurricanes, tsunamis, wars, more bombings and the reactionary rise of fascism.  Trump is not the cause, President Obama said yesterday, he is the symptom.  I agree, we have been headed down this path at a pace that has accelerated to light speed in the years since 9/11.  We have seen violence on the streets, and drug and gang wars.    We have seen the church –torn apart by its own malfeasance and entitlement.  Torn apart by one exclusive group after another – by differing factions who think that they know the mind of God and who choose anger, separation, and hostile rhetoric over restoration and reconciliation.  We have seen our country and others respond to violence with more violence.  We have seen our elected public officials, including our president, flaunt power and wealth and turn public oratory into a mayhem of bullying and boasting at the expense of the most vulnerable in our society.  The people who have been hurt the most are those who were simply in the way – the weak, the elderly, the children, the women, people of color, people of differing sexuality, or the poor.  So here’s my question.  Given that we live in a world where such tragedies happen what kind of a response does God expect from us?  If violence changes the life we know, what does our scripture, tradition, and reason tell us our response is to be?

It’s not my favorite piece of Hebrew scripture but this coming Sunday we will hear from the book of Proverbs.

"A good name is to be chosen rather than great riches,
and favour is better than silver or gold.

The rich and the poor have this in common:
the Lord is the maker of them all.

Whoever sows injustice will reap calamity,
and the rod of anger will fail.

Those who are generous are blessed,
for they share their bread with the poor.

Do not rob the poor because they are poor,
or crush the afflicted at the gate;

for the Lord pleads their cause
and despoils of life those who despoil them."

Proverbs 22:1-2, 8-9, 22-23

Sometimes the tragedies that beset us are outside of our understanding or ability to intercede, but too many times they are of our own making - through ignorance, greed, or the desire for power over one another.  We who desire Love so much - constantly alienate ourselves from it.  So what is it that we are left with?  How do we, who live in the constant murkiness of real life, respond authentically to the persistent itch in our souls that is our conscience - our desire for God’s closeness?  How do we reconcile our faith with life’s realities?   Do we turn our backs on the suffering or do we engage?

Anger, vengefulness, simmering hatred and violence are products of fear - not faith and the only possible outcome is more anger and violence.  I wish that I could tell you that I have all the answers.  Some pastors seem to believe that they do.  Some politicians believe that they do also.  But I just do not believe that any action or inaction that we might take will reconcile this world of ours.  Only God can do that – and yet I also know that we are part of that healing process.  Our faithful turning back to God does make a difference.  This conundrum of faith and works in response to the realities of life that we face every day is at the core of the mystery of the Gospel that I preach each week.  Our hurting world will not be totally healed by our own actions.  No bombs, or missiles, or security measures, or miracle drug, or laws can protect us from the ravages of life.  But it is our fear, our lack of faith - that causes us to move about blindly, to turn our backs on the weak and helpless, to strike out at those we perceive to be our enemy and causing pain to those who are innocent in the wake of our action.  Whether we are acting on the global stage or in our own backyard, the result is the same. 

But there is another way.  It is the path of reconciliation and restoration and redemption in response to God’s pleas for us to turn back.  It is the path of welcoming all comers into our midst and ministering to their needs in the same manner as we minister to our own without regard to the color of their skin or their faith, or their age, or their sexuality.  It is the path of forgiveness and compassion and it is the hardest request that God makes of us. 

The reality of our lives is the same as the reality of the fictional president on West Wing.  We are never quite sure whether we have done the right thing or not.  But we keep trying, we keep praying, we keep turning and turning back to God who loves us, who cares for us, who calls us, and who walks with us through all of the 9/11s of our lives.  Jesus did not promise us a tragedy free life – no matter how "right" we might be.  What Jesus told us is that we would never be alone.