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Pinnacle Presbyterian Church

Echoes (of the Word)

My mother still remembers where she was and what she was doing when she heard that Japan had bombed Pearl Harbor. I will never forget where I was when I heard the news that President John F. Kennedy had been assassinated. 

And we all remember where we were and what we were doing on September 11, 2001. Even though twelve years have passed, it still seems surreal, like going to the theater and seeing a disaster movie. We want to walk out of the theater, after seeing those planes crash, and go back to life as normal. But life in this country will never be the same again. 

There are no words to adequately express what we feel about that Tuesday morning twelve years ago. Our anger, our fearfulness, the broken-heartedness of thousands and thousands of people. The terrible loss of life, the sacrifice of those passengers in the planes, the murder of the innocents in New York City and Washington, D.C. and in a farm field in Western Pennsylvania, the calculating evil of the zealots who in the name of some demented god or some misguided loyalty succeeded in taking the lives of people who woke up that day, like the rest of us, had a day’s work in mind, a desk full of papers, e-mails to answer, phone calls to make, and in the blink of an eye were gone.

The landscape of our lives has been inextricably altered since then. We stand through long lines at airports while the TSA gives us a look-over. The US government has become chillingly like Big Brother in trying to figure out who is innocent and who wants to do harm. We are more suspicious of the stranger and the alien.

In my church in Northbrook, Illinois we had a fraternal relationship with a mosque.  We met regularly with Muslim neighbors, had a meal, and talked together. I must confess I had never talked with a Muslim at any depth before these encounters.

One night I talked with a young woman from the mosque. She wore her scarf, which for a Muslim woman is an act of modesty and obedience to the principles of Islam. I learned she was Director of Security for the Hilton Hotel at O’Hare airport. Her family had immigrated to the US after the Bosnian conflict in the early 1990's. Her father and grandfather were carried away by the Serbs and their bodies were found mutilated a few days later. The Serbs, Orthodox Christians at least in name, killed over 100,000 Bosnian Muslims. 

I tell you that story because so-called Christians have also contributed to the blood-stained linen of history. We are all aware of the Muslim extremists. But we should also be aware that the overwhelming majority of Muslims are people of virtue and faith. As President George Bush said in his address to the nation after 9/11: “Islam is a peaceful religion.”

The Muslims I know from Northbrook love America. They are grateful that our country has taken them in. They are as patriotic as you and I. They are heart-sick about 9/11 because they have experienced first-hand what it means to suffer from evil men and women.  

I read an article on NPR online this week in which former Secretary of State Colin Powell said, “Americans will only lose touch with the freedom-loving, open society we enjoy if we take such counsel of our fears that we change who we are." Powell argues that 10 years after the events of Sept. 11, 2001 the thing that we must guard against most is fear. Sept.11, 2001, was my first day of college — a day full of hopes and new beginnings. What started as an ordinary morning of freshman English, quickly dissolved into a day of shock, horror, and sadness. My classmates and I stood paralyzed in front of TV screens. So many people. We live in a world of constant calamity and sadness but on that day we were confronted with a new idea, most of us have never...
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In my 2005 book, Where the Light Shines Through (Brazos Press), I begin the chapter, "9/12 Living in a 9/11 World," with this memory: In late September of 2001, not long after Sept. 11, the Washington Post ran an article by Hanna Rosen called, “God, You Around?” It was about the noticeable resurgence of both outward religious practice and private prayer in the wake of that September’s events. “It’s not just that the faithful are flocking to houses of worship,” she wrote, “it’s that people who have never been and still won’t go, who passed all those candlelight vigils . . . and kept on walking, are finding themselves, despite themselves, praying.” She quotes the head of a network of counselors working mostly with New York business folk: “‘Every other person we spoke to would get to a point where...
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I wasn’t alive when President Kennedy was assassinated. I don’t remember the Challenger tragedy (I was three). But I do remember the exact moment I heard about the Twin Towers being struck on Sept. 11, 2001. I was in my first year of undergrad at Northern Arizona University and remember sitting of the floor of my dorm room for hours trying to convince myself that this was some sort of mistake. Though thousands of miles away, it felt as if it was happening in Flagstaff. It was that gut-wrenching, that earthshaking. In a way it was happening in Flagstaff. It was happening everywhere in our nation. Tears and confusion set in. It was what happened next that changed me most though. It was the first time I, as a young adult, saw people really come together. People who never had been to church flocked through the doors and found community with complete strangers and solace from the words of pastors they never valued...
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For those of us old enough to remember – Dec. 7, 1941, and Sept. 11, 2001, were somewhat similar but decidedly different. It was more than just a 60-year difference. It was a difference in attitude and approach. In 1941, the nation banded together and fought a known aggressor. In ’01, we did not seem to band together except out of a fear of flying. Following 1941, we joined in every way possible to save all sorts of things that would be useful in the effort to push back Imperialism and Nazism. Following ’01, we joined together to see who might have something on their person that could be used to bring down an aircraft we might be flying on. Fear seemed to saturate our society rather than a firm resolve to find a rational solution to what was happening. As a matter of fact it was two phone calls from Germany that morning of Sept. 11, that told us to turn on our TV set. The following Saturday, Sue and I were among the first to fly out...
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