9/11 Twenty-Five Years Later
There are some days in the life of a nation that become part of our collective memory, and September 11 is one of them. Twenty-five years later, many of us can still remember where we were, whom we called, what we feared, and the strange silence that seemed to settle over the world when we realized that life had changed.
For some, the memories are painfully personal. They carry the names of loved ones, friends, colleagues, first responders, neighbors, and strangers whose stories became forever intertwined with that day. For others, September 11 is remembered through images that have become part of our national consciousness, smoke filling the sky, people running toward danger to help, ordinary men and women offering extraordinary courage, and communities gathering in prayer when words failed.
A quarter century later, our remembrance must be deeper than nostalgia and broader than grief alone. We honor those who died by remembering the lives they lived, by caring for those who survived, and by refusing to allow fear to have the final word. We honor first responders and recovery workers by continuing to recognize the lasting physical and emotional wounds they carried long after the smoke cleared. We honor the best of that terrible day whenever we choose courage over hatred, compassion over suspicion, and neighborliness over division.
Our faith gives us a particular way to remember. Christians believe that death never receives the last word. We believe that light continues to shine in the darkness and that darkness cannot overcome it. We believe that every human life bears the image of God, and so remembrance becomes more than looking backward. It becomes a call to live differently now.
September 11 also reminds us how fragile life can be and how precious the ordinary things truly are. A goodbye at the door. A telephone call. A meal shared around a table. The safe return of someone we love. The opportunity to forgive. The chance to tell someone what they mean to us. So much of what feels ordinary becomes holy when we realize how quickly circumstances can change.
As we mark twenty-five years, I hope we will resist allowing this anniversary to become only a story about what happened to America. It can also become a story about who we choose to be. Our Baptismal Covenant calls us to seek and serve Christ in all persons, to love our neighbor as ourselves, to strive for justice and peace among all people, and to respect the dignity of every human being. Those promises are especially important in a world where fear can so easily become anger, and grief can so easily be turned against another.
May this anniversary draw us toward tenderness rather than hardness. May it deepen our gratitude for those we love. May it renew our commitment to peace. May it strengthen our courage to tell the truth, care for the wounded, welcome the stranger, and build communities where human dignity is treasured.
And may those who continue to carry September 11 in their bodies, their memories, and their hearts know that they are remembered with love.
A Prayer for the Twenty-Fifth Anniversary of September 11
O God of mercy and everlasting life, whose love is stronger than death and whose light no darkness can overcome: receive into your eternal keeping all who died in the attacks of September 11, 2001, and comfort those whose hearts still bear the weight of their absence.
Remember before you all who ran toward danger that others might live, firefighters, police officers, emergency workers, military personnel, medical workers, clergy, volunteers, and ordinary citizens whose courage revealed the very best of our common humanity. Uphold all who continue to suffer in body, mind, or spirit because of that day, and grant strength to those who love and care for them.
Deliver us from the fear that divides, from hatred that hardens the heart, and from every temptation to answer violence with violence. Give to the leaders of the nations wisdom, humility, and courage to seek the things that make for peace.
Make us faithful to the promises of our Baptism, that we may seek and serve Christ in every person, strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.
And as we remember those whose lives were lost, teach us to cherish the lives placed in our care, to love while we have time, to speak peace while we have voice, and to become instruments of your reconciliation in a wounded world.
All this we ask through Jesus Christ our Lord, who died and rose again, and in whom neither death nor life can separate us from your love.
Amen.
In Christ,
Mo. Allison+
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