Sermons
One Year Later
by The Rev. Vail Weller, September 15, 2002
I have been saving a pile of publications about the ramifications
of the events of last September, and at the beginning of this week,
I began to go through all of the articles I had collected. I also began
watching television coverage of the anniversary. I know that there is
no way that I can present to you - particularly in 20 minutes - a full
coverage of all of the ramifications of September 11th: there are too
many angles to come at it from, too many implications, both political
and personal, and therefore, when I began writing this earlier this
week, I decided that what I would do this morning would be to share
with you the things which move me, the things that anger me, and the
things give me hope about September 11th and our observance of its anniversary
one year later.
I feel as though this week, I came stumbling through some sort of haze.
I didn't know just how personally traumatized I was by the attacks last
year, but upon reflection, how could I not be? The images and stories
which were emblazoned in my being have been in my daily musings and
I have also found them accompanying me in my dreams. We have not experienced
terror on this scale as a culture for many years: since the Cuban Missile
Crisis? Vietnam? WWII? Hiroshima? Nagasaki? I don't know - it doesn't
seem to me that these events have the same level of fear attached -
that sense of our invincibility as the United States being shattered.
Would there come another attack? Where? And what would possess anyone
to murder innocent civilians - for any purpose?
This week, as I joined the rest of the culture by revisiting all of
the images and stories, I found that over the course of this last year,
my grieving had changed, and I was able to more concretely grieve for
the loss of life that occurred last year with the bombings of the World
Trade Center and Pentagon and with the downing of the plane in Pennsylvania.
I grieved last year when it happened, of course, as I know you all did
- but this year, I was at a new place in my grieving. It was less about
the shock and fear of it all, and more about the simple, raw pain of
losing precious life.
I was moved all over again by the stories of survivors: the office
workers who just happened to get out, the firefighters who miraculously
survived the collapse of the towers in the stairwell, the people who
were reunited, the people who under normal circumstances any other day
would have been in one of the buildings…and I was moved for each
one of us, who took in the images of the disaster and tried to make
sense of what was happening. In particular, I was concerned for the
children, who have probably been seeing and hearing too much.
I was moved by candlelight vigils, photographs of those who died, the
image of two people jumping from the World Trade Center towers and taking
one another's hands as they jumped…and moved by the large banner
hanging from "City Lights" bookstore in San Francisco, which
showed pictures of famous dissidents with the American flag taped over
their mouths with the words: "Dissent Is Not UnAmerican".
I was angry, too. I was angry first that all of these people died -
women, children, men, innocents, terrorists: in the largest sense, I
mourned that people die at all, and then I also mourned that people
would die in this way, so senselessly, so violently.
I am angry also at the many things that have happened politically since
a year ago this week. The Patriot Act, the chipping away of civil liberties,
the notion that someone could be keeping track of what you borrow from
the library, the detaining of citizens without legal representation
and with no major coverage of what's happening, and most of all, MOST
OF ALL, the pervasive thinking that "you're either with us, or
you're against us" - which is an encouragement to keep quiet any
questions, or concerns, or disagreement with what our government is
doing.
During times of chaos, it is necessary for individual citizens to pay
closer attention to what is being said, and to what is not being
said. These are the times when our commitments to democracy must move
higher up the ladder on the list of our priorities. Unfortunately, it
is often easier to get nuanced information from international sources
- if all one watches is Fox TV or ABC News, it will not be possible
to judge the situation critically. There is just not enough information
presented for us to decide what is really going on.
I have paid attention to the mainstream coverage, through the New York
Times and NPR mainly, but also through television. I have also paid
attention to other sources of information, such as CommonDreams.org,
which is a website that compiles articles from a variety of publications
so that you can peruse lots of different thinkers at once. I also read
the Nation, a very left-leaning magazine, and the Atlantic Monthly,
the New Yorker, and the Christian Century.
In this last issue of the Nation, they published probably a hundred
of letters from regular people who talked about where we are a year
later. Such a wide variety of people wrote in: military folks, 18 year
olds, 85 year olds, expatriates, citizens of other countries temporarily
residing here, and so on. The array of letters offers a more eloquent,
cogent representation of the variety of feelings "out there"
that I can't possibly do them justice. But what struck me was just that.
It is in the "letters" column of a magazine which intentionally
solicited comment from the public that I got a sense of what people
are feeling - and this gives me pause. Why are we not getting more of
a sense of the complexity of people's feelings at this time in our history?
If I only watched television, I would believe that there aren't any
people out there who are concerned about our government's jingoism or
worse, abuse of military power.
Last week, professor Noam Chomsky of MIT wrote a piece in the London
Guardian. I excerpt it for you here. He writes:
September 11 shocked many Americans into an awareness that they
had better pay much closer attention to what the US government does
in the world and how it is perceived. Many issues have been opened
for discussion that were not on the agenda before. That's all to the
good.
It is also the merest sanity, if we hope to reduce the likelihood
of future atrocities. It may be comforting to pretend that our enemies
"hate our freedoms," as President Bush stated, but it is
hardly wise to ignore the real world, which conveys different lessons.
The president is not the first to ask: "Why do they hate us?"
In a staff discussion 44 years ago, President Eisenhower described
"the campaign of hatred against us [in the Arab world], not by
the governments but by the people".
Lest you think I am anti-Arab, please listen on. Chomsky continues:
[Eisenhower's] National Security Council outlined the basic reasons:
the US supports corrupt and oppressive governments and is "opposing
political or economic progress" because of its interest in controlling
the oil resources of the region.
Post-September 11 surveys in the Arab world reveal that the same
reasons hold today, compounded with resentment over specific policies.
Strikingly, that is even true of privileged, western-oriented sectors
in the region.
To cite just one recent example: in the August 1 issue of Far
Eastern Economic Review, the internationally recognized regional specialist
Ahmed Rashid writes that in Pakistan "there is growing anger
that US support is allowing [Musharraf's] military regime to delay
the promise of democracy".
Today we do ourselves few favors by choosing to believe that "they
hate us" and "hate our freedoms". On the contrary,
these are attitudes of people who like Americans and admire much about
the US, including its freedoms. What they hate is official policies
that deny them the freedoms to which they too aspire.1
I find myself oddly moved at this time to really speak out on behalf
of our freedoms, that they might be protected! And this is what I want
to really say this morning. We will each have different ideas about
what should be done now politically. I would like to think that no matter
what path we might personally choose, that we each believe that peace
is the ultimate goal. I would like to believe that we here in this sanctuary
take the notion of debate (and therefore dissent) very seriously.
You may have heard that the Chinese character for the word "crisis"
involves the characters "dangerous" and "opportunity"
- isn't this what a crisis is? A dangerous opportunity? In the coming
weeks, I fear, we will have a dangerous opportunity - one that will
allow us to speak up and make our views known, particularly if they
are not views which are being heard in many places.
On the evening of September 11th, I watched the documentary entitled
"9/11" which was made by two Belgian filmmakers about a fire
company, actually the fire house closest to the World Trade Center,
as it all unfolded. It was an emotionally wrenching story, and yet at
heart, inspiring to see at heart that so many people were just doing
their best to help, at any cost.
After that show was over, I switched the channel and watched a bit
of the "Concert for New York City" that was taking place live.
Many survivors and firefighters and police were there, at Madison Square
Garden. Richard Gere came on to introduce the next musical act. He said
something like, "We have all been through so much. We are dealing
with so much pain and anger. What would it be like if we took that anger
and transformed it? What if we used it to end the cycle of violence?
What if we transformed the anger to compassion, even love?" And
people started to boo, and shout "NO!" - not everyone present,
mind you, but plenty of people. And Gere said, "I guess that's
not very popular right now."
He went on, "You know what though? You know who my real heroes
are? The firefighters and police. They didn't ask if you were a good
guy or a bad guy when they came to help. They didn't ask your religion.
They were there to help, and so they did. They helped whoever they came
across. That's what I'm talking about." There was a time
of silence and then everybody began to applaud.
On Thursday, September 5th, 100 American and British jets took part
in an attack on Iraq's major western air defense installation yesterday
in the biggest single operation over the country for four years. The
raid appeared to be a prelude to the type of special forces operations
that would have to begin weeks before a possible American-led war. The
raid seemed designed to destroy air defenses to allow easy access for
special forces helicopters to fly into Iraq via Jordan or Saudi Arabia
to hunt down Scud missiles before a possible war within the next few
months.2
How do you feel about this attack? Do you feel it justified? Agreed-upon?
Does it have the support of international forces? Have you heard that
it happened? What is wrong with this picture?
Here's what I know. We are being told that after a year ago, things
will never be the same. I am not sure that I agree. I think that if
I had been in New York City, or the Pentagon, or rural Pennsylvania
when death rained down from the skies, I would probably feel differently.
However, it is the case that in times of war, the American people have
previously been asked to sacrifice. We have not been asked to ration
gasoline, or restrict our use of fossil fuels in any way. In fact, in
the days immediately following September 11th a year ago, the President
of the United States told us that shopping was one way to express our
patriotism. Shopping. This is part of what I react against, and
abhor. To me, the American way of life is not a life filled with shopping
options. It is a way of life which insures that no matter your station
in life, your job title, your religious affiliation, your sexual orientation,
your national origin, you are welcome here and you are free.
What are the ways in which you have sacrificed since a year ago? There
are no hands on earth but ours, the reading said. I can tell you the
ways in which my life has changed since last year. I have joined a number
of advocacy groups for the first time - the ACLU, for example. I have
written more letters to my officials. I am working with other community
leaders to create some sort of a rally in support of peace, which will
take place we think on the Saturday just before Election Day. I am also
grateful that my husband and I became a "one-car family" last
year. Our decision to do so had nothing to do with the international
situation, but I do find myself more aware now of gas mileage and don't
take transportation for granted.
As the anniversary of September 11th comes and passes, I find that
I am increasingly concerned with my own democratic voice. I will be
finding ways both private and public to speak up in support of alternatives
to violence in Iraq or elsewhere. I am in favor of diplomacy not detonation.
I am also inspired to learn more about the complicated nuances of ethics.
In two weeks, I will share with you some of what I am learning about
just war theory, for example, and some other faith traditions and their
approach to ethical matters. Next week, we will be learning what the
Jewish tradition observes in Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah - the Days
of Awe, which encourage reflection and atonement.
Somehow, these thoughts of freedom of speech and the right to dissent,
the study of ethics and morality, and the notion that there is an important
call for both reflection and repentance for all of us - somehow, all
of these thoughts are related to my observance of the anniversary of
September 11th. Therefore, it is for the foreseeable future that the
subjects of these Sunday services will reflect the awareness that in
many ways, our world will never be the same.
I will close with an excerpt from the opening reading.
So we lift up our hope for an end to grief, for peace, and safety.
We cherish our nation, even as we would hold it accountable. And we
seek the still center within ourselves, that we might feel the spirit
of life and the stirrings of compassion. Let us resist both fear and
complacency. Let us be determined to give life the shape of justice.
Let us remember that we can collude with love. Let us live as if wholeness
can happen, and by our living help to make it so.
Amen!
copyright Vail E. Weller 2002
1. by Noam Chomsky, Monday, September 9th, Guardian/UK
newspaper.
2. by Michael Smith, September 6th, Telegraph/UK.
