"Grey, out of pale nothingness their agony appears. Like ash they are blown and blasted in the wind'sS breathlessness. Like shapeless smoke their shapes are torn across the paper sky. .. There is not easy music in their silent screams, no ordered dancing in their grief's distracted limbsS. Yes, we have heard you, Ghosts of our indifference, we hear your cry, we understand your warnings. We, too, shall refuse to accept our fate! Haunt us with the truth of our betrayal until the earth's united voices shout refusal, sing your peace! Forgive us, that we had to see your passion to remember what we must never again deny: Love one another." -- James Kirkup

Disbelief. Horror. An overwhelming anguish, followed by a profound sense of helplessness. This is what we awoke to on Tuesday morning. News of hijacked planes, fallen buildings, and the greatest terrorist attack on our nation in history. News of thousands dead, with their last moments spent in fear and agony. News of grieving families and friends, who must face the unimaginable. We have seen the same pictures, heard the same government officials and news analysis, but these do not answer the haunting questions of our broken hearts. How could any human being do this to another? Where in this world are the innocent safe? How will evil be held accountable, and prevented from having another victory?

I wish I could tell you that I had the answers. I don't. What I do have is a heart that is willing to weep with you and our nation, with the victims and their families, with the citizens of New York City, Washington D.C., and Pittsburgh. I know that my tears cannot touch the grief of those closer to this tragedy than I, but they are a poignant reminder that we are not alone. Our fates do not go unnoticed or without the honor that is their due. Our tears are also a reminder that the vast majority of people on this earth are too good, too sane, too compassionate to ever be capable of such inhumane acts. Witness to the countless acts of heroism and support that were also written into history's pages this week. As the weeks unfold, there will be more to come. Nonetheless the small minority who lose their souls to fanaticism and hatred rightly give us cause to fear, for somehow we must learn to avoid their insanity and disease at all costs. The most difficult enemies to face are those we cannot see.

When I arrive at church today, I will light the chalice in our sanctuary in honor of the victims and the lives that have been senselessly lost. May the light remind us that throughout human history, in the face of untold evil and tragedy, there have always been those who responded out of the highest ideals of humanity and did not let evil have the last word. The sanctuary is open to you, in this time of need. My office door is open to you, in this time of grief. Our church doors will be open on Sunday for us to gather together to mourn, to grieve, and to be with a community who cares deeply about the world and all of its people. I hope that you will join us. For it is in times like these that we most need one another to offer comfort and to strengthen our resolve for the days to come.

Blessings, Lisa