My heart is moved by all I cannot save:
So much has been destroyed
I have to cast my lot with those who, age after age,
perversely, with no extraordinary power,
reconstitute the world.
-Adrienne Rich
This has been a week we won't soon forget. On Tuesday, it felt like
my world was turned upside down. We all have our stories of where we
were and what we felt as the news unfolded. We have harbored feelings
of every kind in these days.
I have read numerous pages on how to cope with trauma and how to handle
the news, and we are making some of them available to you today, if
you need them. We are seeking ways to reach out and do something to
alleviate the pain of these events - Practical gestures that may help
in some way in the efforts to get through the days and weeks. So many
others have already responded to these requests that already they have
more than enough bottles of water and clothing. Such is our desire,
as human beings to reach out, and to do something positive. I've received
e-mail exhortations fly the American flag or light candles or send notes.
Maybe these things would help - I don't know.
We are inundated with news and now have more details about how the
attacks came to be and who might have been behind them. We struggle
to understand how this could happen. Not so much the logistical "how"…
we can see how that has unfolded in its amazing smoothness and completeness.
But how it could be that so much hate harbors in a person's mind or
heart? We feel helpless in the face of such loss, such inhumanity, cruelty,
such apparent hatred and disregard for life.
The physical realty of the altered New York City skyline and the searing
gash in the Pentagon are symbolic of the unfathomable loss and grief
these actions have wrought.
The kind of death these people experienced, we hope swift even as it
was senseless, is compounded by the inconceivable task ahead.
There seem to me to be two major categories for the thoughts and feelings
and fears these events have engendered: the personal and the political.
Let me first speak about the latter. Many of my colleagues on our "Minister's
Chat" on line expressed a fear that their sermons for today were
going to end up sounding like a New York Times Editorial. I run that
risk here, but please bear with me. The attacks on the World Trade Center
and the Pentagon have an ideological grounding and are aimed at a political
entity, and the reactions and responses of our government affect us
all. Much has been written about how this will shape our way of life,
the liberties we have enjoyed in these years of [for all intents and
purposes] peace and plenty.
Does the safety of all permit the restriction of civil liberty for some?
Will we be content to do with less freedom? Can we afford to give up
the convenience of speedy air travel or inexpensive fuel for our cars?
I am not sure what comes next… there will be decisions made and
actions taken on our behalf by those in power. There will be many questions
with which we will undoubtedly have to wrestle and difficulties we will
have to overcome. Yes, the world is different now. And most especially,
our country is changed and changing.
What shape this change will take depends much on our individual actions
in the weeks, months and years to come. Responses to this attack are
being threatened and crafted by our leaders… declarations of war,
promises of fierce retaliation and threatening language flow from the
lips of this country's leaders, and not only persons in politics but
people of religion as well.
Some of us are very comfortable with them and others of us are not.
I find myself more able to face the horror of the destruction and the
grief felt for over 5,000 lost - not one of whom I know personally -
by framing these events as a calamity akin to an earthquake: a random
event that is visited upon an area by "natural" forces. It
is sometimes the only way that I can accept that this all really happened.
But it is real, and there is nothing "natural" about it.
So I struggle with holding these two unwelcome pieces of knowledge
in tandem:
This event is real, it did happen, and thousands of lives were lost
and thousands more have been brought to the brink of despair or grief.
This event is real and will affect our country's very being. It will
mold a new generation of citizens. And this event was no accident -
it was brought about by the careful planning and orchestration of a
band of people - fellow human beings - who harbor ideas and feelings
I can hardly imagine. Other human beings acted out of hatred and struck
out against us.
How will we go on? Many of us have family and friends who live or work
in the two areas attacked. My friends in NYC have made it through this
week. But I think of them as the weeks ahead unfold and the city begins
to return to its usual rhythms. Everything will, at some point, appear
to be "back to normal", yet it won't be. A sound, a smell,
a photograph will bring it all back. It will be the same for those of
us living far removed from the epicenter of these events.
This is where it is personal. We are dealing with grief and loss. Whether
or not someone in our immediate circle has died in this attack, we -
as individuals and as a community - are grief-struck. I know - I can
see the signs in myself… overwhelming sadness coupled with a desire
to get on with life and have everything back the way it was before Tuesday
morning. As Fred Wooden, minister of our congregation in Brooklyn NY
said about the days and weeks to come: "… this is when the
misery will begin to eat away. Even now, I feel my stress coming out
as impatience and impertinence. Maybe I am different, but it seems others
are short tempered as well. How much of this is rage turned inward,
helpless flailing about, fear with no place to put it?"
I resonant with his sentiments. Many of us are not sure what to do
with the anger and pain we fell. So we come together, here and in other
arenas, to feel the warmth of community and know that others share our
pain and grief. And this is good… this what we are about. And we
affirm life.
Yesterday I had the privilege of officiating at a wedding ceremony.
Like so many others who have such celebratory events scheduled this
week, the couple thought long and hard about moving forward with the
ceremony. But their decision to go on with it was grounded in the need
to bring family and friends together and celebrate life.
It was made all the more meaningful by the fact that the bride's birth
father, who is deceased, was a part of this congregation, was dedicated
here and his memorial service was held in this room over twenty years
ago. After the rehearsal, the bride, Michele, shared with me that she
had just found out the sculpture that graces one corner of our entry-way
- the graceful pair of hands by Auguste Rodin, called the Cathedral,
was given to this church as a memorial to her father, Michael Macedonia.
The circle of family and memory draws us all closer. And in the face
of great sorrow and fear, we continue to say "yes" to life.
This is why we are here… This sanctuary shelters us, yes. The
walls of this building cover us, yet rise up to the sky in hope and
expectation. This community reminds us of what we might yet be. The
events of Tuesday, and the events that will yet unfold, challenge us
and our principles. As much as this community, this congregation, offers
us solace and comfort in our grief, it also offers us hope and courage
as we face a great challenge.
How do we go on from her? What will our lives be like? What will the
world be like for our children and grandchildren as they grow into adulthood?
How can we wage peace, and seek justice, and build a better world?
These days ask us to reach further than many of us have ever reached
before, to grow into the people we are meant to be. We are a people
of hope and compassion. This is not just platitudes and kind deeds…
For Unitarian Universalists, our hope is realistic and not pinned on
some outside source beyond our understanding. We are a people who, while
living in the present, strive for a vision of tomorrow.
Now it is of the utmost importance that we not loose sight of that
vision, that world of peace, justice and equity. I am no so concerned,
at the moment, that we say how that will happen, or vote on resolutions
or make a list of goals and objective. Rather, this vision begins deep
inside each of us, in our own personal commitment to living our values.
The events of this past week have made all of us more aware of the importance
of kinship, of having those around us whom we love and care for…
to be within reach of them physically or by phone or e-mail. We are
assured by their presence. Remembering the tears that have brought us
together, we can let those tears nurture our sense of connection to
one another.
We can find the strength to begin again, in love, and move through
he days ahead.
We are crossing a threshold, and are entering a new way of living that
as yet remains a mystery. But we, as Unitarian Universalists, as a people
of faith and courage and hope, can move across this threshold knowing
we are not alone, knowing that love is stronger than death, knowing
that we are part of a larger whole in which hatred has no part.
In closing, let me share the words of Howard Thurman, minister, philosopher
and educator whose vitality and vision touched the lives of people of
all races, faiths and cultures
A prayer
FOR A TIME OF SORROW
I share with you the agony of your grief,
The anguish of your heart finds echo in my own.
I know I cannot enter all you feel
Nor bear with you the burden of your pain;
I can but offer what my love does give:
The strength of caring,
The warmth of one who seeks to understand
The silent storm-swept barrenness of so great a loss.
This I do in quiet ways,
That on your lonely path
You may not walk alone.
Amen. Shalom. Saleem Alechim. Blessed Be. Peace.
Candle lighting
We light this first candle to invoke the spirit of compassion. We extend
our sympathies to all those who grieve the loss of loved ones. The nation
and the world are so full of sorrow. We honor and embrace the pain caused
to all of us by thousands of injuries and deaths We invoke the spirit
of compassion. [pause for lighting]
We light this second candle to invoke the spirit of wisdom and discernment.
We send our wishes to those who serve the nation in the halls of government.
We call on you to keep faith with our country's values of freedom, fairness,
and justice. We invoke the spirit of wisdom and discernment. [pause]
We light this third candle to invoke the spirit of gratitude and courage.
We send our thanks to the firefighters, the rescue and search workers,
the police officers, those who tend the wounds of the injured, those
who care for the dying. We stand in awe of your strength. and we live
in
gratitude of your testament to human caring. We invoke the spirit of
gratitude and courage. [pause]
We light this fourth candle to invoke the spirit of reason and love.
We remind ourselves of the danger of rushing to judgment and the sins
of scape-goating, prejudice, and racism. We remind ourselves to be gentle
with one another in the days and months to come. Let us be open to the
pain in our hearts, and in others' hearts. Let us call forth the healing
which comes from listening and from the touch of human hands. Let us
call forth the best which lives in the human soul. We invoke the spirit
of reason and love. [pause]
