I, like most Americans, have once again been deluged by images and commentary about the tragic events of 9/11. Discussions abound as to how best commemorate the recently passed 10th anniversary. I had been dreading that day probably because there has been, and continues to be, very little honest public reflection and discussion about the events of 9/11. Discussions tend to remain politically charged and lines clearly drawn. We talk about the human toll but limit it to Americans. Sadly, when there is discussion of the human toll elsewhere (those in Afghanistan or Iraq, for example), such persons all too often are exploited and used as tools in a political game. They are, we are told, either the beneficiaries of our noble cause, or tragic casualties. The truth, as it usually does, likely rests somewhere in the middle.
My first reactions to 9/11 were pretty similar to most other people I knew. We had been attacked. My emotional response was that we should hunt down and destroy those who had attacked us and use whatever means necessary. While I believed that there were moderate Muslims out there, I felt they were too scared to stand up to the murderous radicals who attacked us. I gave little thought to the human consequences. However, war is evil, and it didn’t take long for me to realize that if we are to claim the side of justice we should act with justice. I have struggled with my thirst for vengeance, and realized that it does not fit with my faith beliefs.
Like many other Americans, I saw amazing things in the days and weeks following the attacks of 9/11. People came together, and did so across the boundaries of race, class and religion. They were helping each other, and comforting each other. People were returning to faith services in large numbers. It felt good. It felt like we were a unified country. All too soon, however, the events of 9/11 became just one more source of division as people disagreed over what was the appropriate response, and cynically used the events and the victims to advance their own particular agendas.
Over the past 2 years, working as a therapist in a community mental health center, I have had the privilege of working with soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan, and also with refugees from Iraq. Their stories are different, and yet remarkably similar. They recall destruction and acts of incredible cruelty, and even the deaths of friends and family. There are nightmares, the inability to work, and destroyed marriages, and yet there are also stories of reconciliation and forgiveness. I have been blessed by the ability to witness the healing of Muslims who suffered under the brutality of Saddam Hussein’s regime, who dodged American bombs, and who have survived the sectarian violence. I have been moved to tears on those occasions when these Muslims have claimed that God had brought them to me, and when they tell me that they pray God will bless my family.
I walk away from these experiences firmly believing that their God is my God, and that they share my sorrow at the evil of war. I believe that it is in the personalization, in the relationships, and in authentic dialogue that healing will occur. We are all, after all, the creation of God. It is not just our neighbor that we are instructed to love, but our enemy. To love our enemy requires that we (that I) look past the actions, see Jesus in them, reach out and be the “hands of Christ.” This is not an easy thing, and it is something I continue to struggle with.
I am something of a voracious reader. When I find an author I like, I devour the other books written by him or her. I also rely on serendipity. Sometimes a book just grabs me and I have to get it. Recently, at my local library, as I walked by the books about 9/11 not wanting to revisit the horror, I saw something. It grabbed me by my throat and I couldn’t walk by without picking it up. Peace Be With You: Monastic Wisdom For A Terror Filled World, by David Carlson, is the result of over 30 interviews with Abbots, Monks and Nuns at various monasteries and retreat centers across the USA. These interviews cover themes such as peace and hope in a trouble world, and ponder Jesus’ command to treat the stranger as our neighbor, and treat our neighbor not only as ourselves, but as God in our very midst. I highly recommend this book, and close with lines from the poem “When That Day Comes, Cedars of Peace 1976-2001” by Cecily Jones, SL. It was written shortly after the events of 9/11.
As our hearts meet here at Compline
We scavenge for a whispered peace
Against the scream that vengeance shrieks.
Afghanistan, the atlas says, holds stands
Of cypress, juniper, and pine.
Are they the cedars’ kin
And will they offer peace, we as
When that day comes?
May our hearts meet here.
May all our hearts meet in peace. God Bless
-Brian Martin
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