| > back | Bishop's Statements Homily Exodus 32:7–11; 13–14 Tuesday, September 11, 2001, a day seared into our national, our global memory for its audacious, craven, horrific act of fanatic hatred against us, the people of the United States of America. It was a “where were you when you heard?” moment in our history. A moment that will not be forgotten. The images of those airlines, that we have so often easily boarded, turned now into assassin-controlled missiles to effect maximum human destruction, is forever etched on our memories. The horror of the two great monoliths imploding, 110 stories each of humanity, in billowing clouds of dust floats in our mind’s eye forever. We have come to a stand-still numbed by the days of media reporting on the “who’s” and the “what’s” and the “what if’s.” Each of us has seethed with cauldrons of emotions from shock, to tears, to anger, and yes, to revenge. We have been terrified and that was the object! More than 5000 of our country’s men and women obliterated. That, my friends, is a statistic too staggering to fathom. The sadness of families in what seems to be their fruitless search for the missing, the awe at the number and tirelessness of those in search, rescue, and recovery, the numbing realization of so many medics ready to aid such a small number of survivors, and the heroic efforts of multitudes in mountains of debris, have left us on an emotional overload. This terrible, still unfolding tragedy has been a hammer to our hearts. We gather here today not for commentary, not to air or to heal our emotions but rather to address our spirits which have been so brutally traumatized. We gather to face our God, to pray for those who have died and their families and friends devastated by their loss-to begin to put our churning feelings in perspective. This is a beginning only, that will take months and beyond to resolve. As individuals, and as a community, we address our God with the wail of our tears, our anger, our cries for revenge. We take a page from our elder brothers and sisters, the people of Israel of Old, and like they did, we also curse what our supposedly good God has allowed to happen. Today it is very difficult for us to feel loved by our God who is love. And it is all right to admit that. As believers in Jesus, we stand in shock and awe before God’s word that we have just heard. By the luck of the draw and the serendipity of our liturgy that Word calls us today to seek out the lost sheep, the lost coin, the lost Israelites with their molten calf, the lost sinner, and to forgive, yes, forgive!! Forgiveness is not high on our national list of priorities this day. It sounds unfeeling, unpatriotic, shocking, in fact, in such a context. Yet is our belief to say, “Forgive us as we forgive others.” We stand, today, in awe of that command, that challenge, and we pray that it make some sense. My friends, our spirits are in conflict, and we share that fact with our God. And that is the right thing to do. It will take a long time for the churning and turning of our spirits to come down right, but that will only happen with our God’s help which we are only beginning now to seek. Some have said that last Tuesday scared the “hell out of us.” If it did, in fact, do that, then it should have awakened heaven-seeking love. Love for our God, even if God’s commands don’t make sense to our feelings right now. Love for ourselves and who we are, which was already so hard to come by. Love for all, as neighbors, in the same way we love ourselves. That last love is perhaps, right now, the most difficult. It is so because it means loving not only the deceased and their families and the heroic rescuers but also those who perpetuated these crimes-our enemies. That right now will have to wait. In our search for meaning, let us remember that not every person whose skin is a darker color than our own is a terrorist. In this great nation we call as “sister and brother,” women and men from every continent. They are our neighbors, friends, and in some instances, family members. They are visitors to, and citizens of, this nation. Not every Arab is a terrorist. We know and believe this in our hearts. Let us make sure that we remember it at this time when there is an urgency to retaliate. Our hearts and prayers are with those innocent people whose only connection with these horrific acts is the color of their skin, the place where they were born, and the language that they speak. If the “hell” has been scared out of us, then our numbed and jumbled spirits need time with our God. Pray. Pray, with our curses for this terror, with the seeming, non-sensical command to forgive, with the taxing command to love. Remembering that we are called to be a counter sign to our culture. We pray for justice and not revenge. Those who perpetuated this atrocity must be brought before the bench of justice and must be held responsible. But we must make sure that our response is measured and appropriate. Let us not forget the “relocation camps” of sixty years ago. We continue now by giving God our thanks. Thanks for what, we are now not so sure. But we do believe, and believe firmly, that it is only in praise of God that our spirits will eventually be healed. “Oh God, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come. Our shelter from the stormy blast and our eternal home.” God bless us all. |
