Remembering September 12, 2001

Last updated on: May 9, 2013 at 6:20 am by Faithful Democrats

Remembering September 12, 2001 2013-05-09T06:20:21-06:00 Faithful Democrats

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On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was beginning my

final year at Duke
Divinity School
where I served as an area coordinator in charge of one of the freshmen
dorms. Two weeks earlier, I had concluded
my summer internship at the Pentagon and moved out of one of the offices in the
wing that was hit. By the time I went to
bed on 9/11, I knew that several of my freshmen had lost family in the Twin Towers,
and I feared that all of my former colleagues at the Pentagon were dead (I
found out later that they had all miraculously survived). When I crawled into bed that night, I was
more depressed than at any other point in my life. And
then there was grace…

A friend recently sent me a copy of an article I wrote about
my experience the early morning of September 12. It is not exactly related to campaign
strategy, but I think it is a good reminder of why campaigns matter. So I thought I’d share what I wrote at 2AM on
September 12, 2001:

I
saw God’s hand at work today, amid the images of death, smoke, tragedy, and
fear. Just after midnight, I was
awakened by one of the resident advisors in my dorm at Duke. She said that my dorm was gathering outside
and lighting candles for those affected by the horror of what happened
today.

The sight that greeted me when I
walked outside was even more powerful than the horrid picture of the doomed
plane crashing into the World
Trade Center. I opened the door to see almost everyone of
my 140 freshmen, sitting in a circle in our parking lot, hands clasped
together, heads bowed, praying in the soft light of flickering candles.

I joined the group, and after a few
minutes heard the most beautiful sound and something I will never forget. At first, I seriously questioned whether what
I heard was of human or divine origin because the noise was so soft and
pure. Different people in the group had
begun humming “Amazing Grace.” Slowly
the volume picked up as more members of the group joined in, and words were
added here and there.

I could not help but think of
Christmas morning in Dr. Seuss’ book, When the Grinch Stole Christmas*.*
Despite all the Grinch’s efforts to destroy Christmas and what it stood
for, on Christmas morning the “Who’s” all gathered to sing and join together in
making a joyful noise to the Lord. The
message of Christmas was made all the more clear because of the Grinch’s
efforts to undermine it.

I saw a similar thing tonight. Like many Americans, I was very depressed and
upset by what happened Tuesday morning.
I was worried about my friends who worked in the part of the Pentagon
that was hit. I worried about what my
nation would do in response and feared a cycle of violence that would
significantly change the world in which we live. My heart was full of worry and fear for those
suffering today and for our future. And
I questioned how God could allow this to happen.

But I began to see a different
future as I sat in that circle. I saw
people of different races, classes, and religions holding hands and singing
together about grace. I saw hope and a
message so much more powerful and striking than the hate of today’s terrorist
attacks.

I submit this story because I
believe that the only way we can ever overcome terror is by off-setting the
images of dust, debris, and fire with images like the one I saw tonight. We win if these acts of evil bring us
together and lead to an outpouring of love and hope. We will lose if the only thing to come from
this tragedy is fear and a unified cry for revenge. If Americans all over the
country come together like my freshmen did last night, we might even be able to
change the twisted hearts (that are perhaps four sizes too small) of those
responsible.

Clearly my dream wasn’t achieved. Our President did everything that I hoped we
would not do, thereby making my fears for our country and the world a
reality. I’m sure there will be a great
deal of discussion this week about September 11, 2001, but I hope we will also
take some time to remember September 12 of that same year: when the world
rallied around us and Americans were standing ready sacrifice and to do whatever
it took to set things to right. It was a
point in history that doesn’t come too often, and it was bursting with
potential. And it was squandered. We need the right people in positions of
power in moments like September 12, 2001.
That is why campaigns matter.

There are those who might say I’m a starry-eyed idealist to
imagine we had any option but to respond with hate, fear, and revenge after
9/11. I am no pacifist (though I wish I
could be) nor do I believe that the state bears the sword in vain. I’m too much of a “fallen world” Calvinist
for any of that. But even in the
ethically-gray fallen world, I understand that my Calvinism is not a
philosophy. It is a faith. And no matter what else might be encompassed
in my definition of faith, at the very core of my faith is the cross. If we are going to preach Christ crucified;
if we are going to believe there is any greater purpose to the political
squabbles we engage in; if we are going to seek to serve our Creator in hopes
of edging our world closer to his Kingdom; then we must be willing to take
leaps of faith from time to time and understand that foolishness to the world
is not always foolishness to God. I wish
we’d had a leader like that on September 12, 2001.

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