Blog on the Lillypad
Monday, September 08, 2003
 | When our world changed forever Part 4 Part of the agony of 9/11 was not knowing. Word kept coming that the President was here; then he was there. Finally it seemed pretty certain that he was at a strategic command location in Nebraska. He issued a taped statement early in the day. But by afternoon he had not been seen live on television since he'd been flown out of an elementary school in Florida. Reports started filtering through that entire firehouse companies may have been lost in the collapse of the towers. And rumors of planes not yet accounted for persisted into the mid-afternoon and then disappeared from the newscasts without explanation. And over everything hung two questions---how many people had been killed? and What would happen next? All commercial and private aircraft had been grounded, and yet the fear of another surprise attack lingered for days. |
By the late afternoon, I was exhausted and filled with sorrow as most Americans were, fearful for my country and grief stricken from realizing that those desperate people who had been waving shirts and impromptu flags from windows of the World Trade Center, signaling for help, were all dead. And worse, what I at first mistook for flying leaves outside the windows on some of the blurry shots turned out to be people who had thrown themselves from burning mayhem on the floors that had been engulfed in flame from the jet fuel. I went on my knees several times, deliberately pointing myself away from the television in fear of actually falling into some sort of prayer towards it. The realization was growing that human life, all human life, was incredibly sacred and fragile. I asked God what He wanted me to do.
Sometime around 3:00, Rudy Guiliani addressed the nation. I think he meant it to be a news conference, but it was the first national rallying call to all of us. He was calm, composed, deadly serious, sorrowful, and brave. At that moment, he was the exact remedy for the nation's fears.
There was now word that the buildings of the Capitol had been evacuated, but in the early evening, Congress gathered on the Capitol steps. Ted Kennedy said a few brief words about their solidarity and purpose, and then they sang "God Bless America." I was stunned at their courage and dignity, and I was moved at sight of how stricken with grief some of them appeared, just as I was. They were all there, all those people I was supposed to hate: Ted Kennedy, and Hilary Clinton, and Dick Gephardt, singing right along with Arlen Specter and Orrin Hatch and the conservatives. I knew then that I had been wrong. All their lives have value, and my purpose as a Christian is to be a witness to all of them, and not declare one of them to be worthy of hatred or mockery. And certainly, in that moment, they were a brave and gallant group of people. And metaphorically they raised the first American middle finger to whoever had done this, in a very dignified way, but we all knew that was what they were doing. Because when we heard them sing, we did it too. I didn't want to kill anybody (though I knew there would have to be reprisals), but I also wanted to be defiant to our attackers. So the best way to raise the middle finger is to sing a song with honor and solidarity, and everybody knows that's what you've also done, but without being crude.
And then Bush returned to the White House, determined to maintain the national level of self control and composure that the country had already begun to evidence. And he spoke to the nation that night, briefly. I had not thought highly of Bush until then, but when he spoke to the nation in a brief, terse, dignified message, I felt a new confidence in him. Yet at the same time I saw how impossible his choices were. Whatever way he turned, more innocent people were going to be killed. So I did what I should have done for my President with far more regularity: I prayed for him.
It was as though all my lack of love and concern for others was slowly unwinding before me, showing me my own hardness of heart. Yet the lesson was easy to take, for now I wanted to have the right heart, and I was convinced that God had sent that dream because I was supposed to do something. I knew that my heart had to be in the right alignment with the heart of God, which does not take pleasure in exercising punishment or letting judgement fall. God delights in mercy, and I had to learn that, and learn it quickly, I thought.
Yet still, there had to come a point of turning out the lights and going to bed. Late in the night, safe in my pyjamas I prayed alongside my bed, and felt the weight of wondering what kind of world I would wake up to the next day. But it was impossible to ask for my life to be spared, not after having seen all those people's lives ended in a moment. So I asked God to make me brave if it was His will for me to die in a terrorist attack, and help me to have the attitude of those firemen and police. And I prayed for composure to meet the next day, no matter what should occur during the night. And then, as far as I recall, I climbed from my knees into my bed and slept without moving or dreaming. Over everything, there hung a great stillness, for the country had come to a halt.
