Commentators have repeatedly spoken of Sept. 11 as a seminal event in our history, a moment of the loss of innocence.
Certainly we will not forget the images of large airliners deliberately lining up the World Trade Center towers as targets, and the ball of flame bursting from all sides; people choosing 100-story death falls to the hot death of fire; the blizzard of ash showering down on everything choking firefighters, police and the streets of Manhattan; the massive implosion of concrete and steel; a hole in rural Pennsylvania marking selfless heroic sacrifice; children, men and women in another land rejoicing in death; and the empty skies for three days over the 3,000-mile breadth of the United States. No, we are no longer innocent.
The body reacts in its own way. Our minds keep going on, trying to maintain an equilibrium, but I have had headaches all week. I can work for a few hours then I can no longer focus. I call my daughter, my son, my brother, my mother. I tell them all how much I love them. Along with my headaches come heartaches.
Collectively, we hurt and we are afraid and our hearts seek revenge and our minds long for blood, even as our souls know the folly of such desires.
Are we no longer innocent? Maybe it is a good thing we have lost our innocence. We have held onto it long after it would have been good to give it up. This terrorist attack did not come unannounced. It is one, the worst, so far – in a series of attacks dating back to the 1960s. We have wondered for years where the next blow would come from. Now we know.
To lose our innocence is to see the world as it is, God’s creation not ours, and in seeing to seek the greatest good, and to give honor to the God of all creation. We pray for wisdom and understanding and patience, and, if we are honest, for retribution, and eventually, for forgiveness, at least in word, if not in desire. There are those among us who will beat the war drums loud enough to keep us in a bloody-minded mood of vengeance, and there will be those who will push us to complete “the healing process” and come to a point of acceptance and forgiveness – too soon. Beware of both. We will not get over this, we can only get used to it.
Someone in my congregation said, “Don’t speak of peace or peacemaking, yet; we need to stay in mourning.” This is true. We need to stay in the moment and not move on too quickly to end our discomfort. It seems that every time we come up against a complex situation in life someone comes up with a simple solution that is, inevitably, wrong. This is because complex situations demand complex solutions. It is the way things are when you lose your innocence. You are humbled because you don’t know quite what to do, where to turn, when to act, what to say.
Psalmists suggest that fear of an uncertain future – not knowing – is the beginning of wisdom. To humble yourself before the mystery of God’s grace is the first step. The fool says, “there is no God, or if there is I will still act as if there isn’t.” And Evil says, “Then, I will act as if I am God.”
The humble say, “God is and I am not. With eyes of my heart wide open I will wait, and listen, and follow Your divine leading.”
But what can we do? First of all, we pray. As people of faith we believe that prayer has the power to bring healing and wholeness in times such as this. Does prayer change God? Will prayer change events of history? No! Prayer changes us. God did not ride that plane into the tower. A human being did that. And God will not wreak vengeance on other nations. Human beings will make those choices. We need to pray for the transformation of this world, beginning with ourselves, our families, our nation, our world.
And when we pray, pray honestly. Tell God what you feel, what you think and what your heart cries for. Do not tell God what you think you are supposed to say. God can handle anything we might say or feel.
What we can pray for is justice – justice for the oppressed, but also justice for those who use the righteous cause for a demonic agenda. We may pray for forgiveness, but first let us pray for wisdom and understanding of this complex and contradictory world, and indeed our own complex and contradictory thoughts and emotions.
We can take a stand against racial and ethnic harassment and violence toward Middle Eastern people. We can learn the truth about Islam and understand the narrow interpretation of Islamic fundamentalism. We have lost our innocence. We need to know what is going on in the world. We can try to see the world as it is, and not as it is portrayed to be. We have lost our innocence, but we are not fools, and we do not want to be evil. What more can we do? We can be the people of God who have the courage of our convictions to still believe that Love conquers all. We can support our President and his advisers as they seek to bring to justice those who
perpetrated this crime. We can applaud a world of nations united against terrorism. And we can criticize our leaders when they fall into the trap of trading terror for terror.
We are not innocent. Our eyes have been opened. Our eyes have seen what we never wanted to see – a great empty void. The void in the New York skyline. The void in the walls of the Pentagon. The nearly 5,000 voids in families and friends, and the void in the heart of this nation. As people of God we proclaim that God is Spirit, and, as Spirit, God
is in and through all things, and with and among all beings. Let the Spirit of God enter the void and fill it with healing presence so that the ragged edges may be knit together and made whole. There may be a scar left behind, but let it be the mark of God’s presence where we mourned the lost and did not forget.
Rev. Matthew Broadbent is pastor of Foothills Congregational Church in Los Altos.
