Pastor Don’s Corner . . .  

Psalm 91:1-2, 5-6

You who live in the shelter of the Most High, who abide in the shadow of the Almighty, will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress; my God, in whom I trust.” You will not fear the terror of the night, or the arrow that flies by day, or the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, or the destruction that wastes at noonday.

 On September 11, 2001 the world saw in a new and definitive manner the face of terror and evil in our world. Without regard to the lives of those on the planes being hijacked, terrorists flew the aircraft into buildings to prove in flame, destruction and death, the political and religious ideologies held close in their hearts. For Americans, the terror of the moment was not galvanized by the impact of the planes into the buildings or ground, nor was it in the images of the fallen, burnt hulks of steel and rubble, nor even in the volumes of known dead and missing. Rather, the terror of the moment was laid bare in the awful knowledge that our nation, itself, is vulnerable to the evil most often seen only in other lands.

The notion that anyone would hijack an airplane and kill the passengers is an obscenity to our sense of civility. That those hijackers would kill the passengers by slamming them into a building in order to kill other innocent people is a profanity against humanity itself. That all of the innocents, numbering into the thousands, and the aircraft and buildings they were in, would be sacrificed on the altar of political rhetoric and twisted religious fanaticism is a vile offensiveness to the heavens above, as well as to the earth beneath. Yet, that is exactly what happened . . . and it happened here.

This didn’t happen in Ireland, where the Protestants and Catholics have been beating and blowing each other up in the name of God for years. Nor did it happen in Jerusalem, where the Palestinians and the Israelies have been fighting over homeland issues for generations. Nor did it happen in Iraq, Iran, Egypt or Lybia, where folks have been fighting over land and mineral rights for centuries. No, it happened here: in New York City, in Washington, D. C., in the Pennsylvania countryside, in the heart of the American psyche, and in the soul of the American people.

It happened in our home. The impenetrable fortress of the American dream had its windows shattered, its doors blown off their hinges, its foundation cracked, and its men, women and children slain . . . and we rail at the sight of it, “Not here!” “Not us!” “Not so easily!” Yet, it was here and the images of the carnage are etched into our collective minds nightly by a news media hungry to place blame, shape public opinion, and to know and determine the military response to the perceived depths of this offense.

In response to our exposed weakness, we are lifting up the heroes of the moment as poster-children of American freedom when, in fact, what they and all of us are, at best, are creatures of faith: we do unto others as we would have them do unto us. In the wreckage of our untouchable illusion, in the brushstrokes of death painted over our innocents, the heroes among us are the ones who did not balk at entering the buildings to preserve life, even at the cost of their own. The heroes among us are the ones who came in after them and, bucket-full by bucket-full, hand over hand, dug into the violence in search of peace. The heroes among us are the ones who organized and led prayer services that very day and afforded others the opportunity to weep, to grieve and to seek solace in God in the days thereafter. The heroes among us are the ones who offered the blood of their bodies to give life in others. The heroes among us are the ones who dig into the wealth of their lives, whether great or small, and willingly offer it to another that all might share in God’s goodness. The heroes among us are the ones who carefully work for justice instead of revenge, who strive to be merciful in the face of oppression, and who guard, guide and gauge their every action by the humble will of God being lived out in their lives.

With the Psalmist, we painfully, begrudgingly admit that the terror of the night, the arrow that flies by day, the pestilence that stalks in darkness, and the destruction that wastes at noonday, will simply not go away. We acknowledge in this tragedy the sorrow in our souls at the thousands who have fallen by our side, and we weep for the ten thousands who will fall at our right hand.  In this land and in this time, we lament the very existence of evil and the tools and people by which such evil is expressed. In these moments of global crisis, we confess the brokenness of our world in all who condone such hatred, prejudice or bigotry in any form and we pray for forgiveness, healing and redemption.

But, we will not be afraid . . . of evil or those who are owned by it, for our faith is in God.

For the pounding of our hearts in the present age, and for the strengthening of our knees in the days ahead, we trust the One under whose wings we seek refuge. We have not forgotten the One who leads us out of the house of bondage, through the wilderness and into a land overflowing with milk and honey. We cannot forget that, in the land of such great liberties, there is also a greater responsibility to the faith, to the One who is the Author of all liberty. We have not forgotten that we are not our own: God is in us and to God we give our response.

Though the terrorists have caused our nation and our world great pain and even greater sorrow, we do not fear them. They have struck out at the houses on this land, but they cannot destroy the home of our soul. They have exposed a nerve in our collective assumption of impenetrability, but they cannot kill the spirit of faith. They have registered a blow against our nation’s economic system, but they have not touched our people’s heart. What the terrorists and others like them cannot understand is that we love God more than self. Though we are of many expressions, many diversities, many approaches, God is One . . . and God is who we fear. God is who we serve.