Remembering 911
One Year Later

Week of Monday, September 9, 2002

As with the assassination of John F. Kennedy, most people will always remember exactly where they were when they learned the tragic news of September 11, 2001. I myself was yelling at my kids to turn off the television and go to school, when my son Matthew finally got my attention and explained the unbelievable. Like most other people, I then spent most of the day in a stupor watching CNN. Our country will never forget that day, nor should we. But how should we remember? It is clear that as our country commemorates that day, our national consciousness is sailing uncharted waters. People are canceling parties. Television advertisers are yanking ads. Networks are planning sober programming.

Is there a uniquely Christian way to remember this tragedy? Yes, I think so. In general it requires us to distinguish (but not separate) the priorities of God's kingdom which for us always take precedence, and the concerns of caesar and his state which we honor, love and support but which are, ultimately, secondary. More particularly, as we remember our nation's tragedy and the collateral events like the war in Afghanistan, homeland security, foreign policy, and the like, my thinking has been tracking along four lines: grace, global vision, extremist politics and prayer.

First, the Jesus with whom we journey was “a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:2–3). As a fully human being, He has experienced our every weakness (Hebrews 4:15), and in his life and teaching He indicated that there was the paradoxical possibility of a special blessing in mourning and brokenness (Matthew 5:4). People on the journey with Jesus, then, ought some how be able to express unusual empathy with individual people who suffered tragedy and loss in 911 and with the trauma caused to our country. Because we know our own sin and brokenness, and how God has nevertheless treated us with tender kindness and forgiveness, we can enter into the grief and suffering of others. This must also include the forgiveness of our enemies (Matthew 5:43–44).

Some people seem more intent on retaliation and “justice” than forgiveness. About two weeks ago, a group of 600 people calling themselves Families United to Bankrupt Terrorism filed a $116 trillion lawsuit against seven international banks, eight Islamic foundations, terrorist financiers, the company run by Osama bin Laden's family, three Saudi princes, and the government of Sudan. Their sense of grief and longing to do something are understandable, but I was struck by one newscast that quoted a person as saying that despite whatever financial gains might be won, “there will never be closure.”

I believe that person was right. Until one can move to a position of grace and forgiveness, there will never be closure. This is why in so many places of the world dictators, who decidedly do not want closure, appeal to atrocities committed centuries and even millennia ago. A few years ago I read a powerful, little book by Fuller Seminary professor Lewis Smedes called Forgive and Forget: Healing the Hurts We Don't Deserve. His point is not that forgiving and forgetting are synonymous; far from it. There are some hurts that we never can or should forget, like the bombing of the World Trade Center. But we need to forgive precisely because we cannot forget, else there will never be closure but only bitterness.

Next, since Christians are part of a kingdom composed of people from “every nation, tribe, people and language” (Revelation 7:9), we above all people should be able to think globally rather than in narrow ways that promote rabid nationalism and an isolationist mentality. This past summer I was at a conference in Austria for theological students in Europe. With about seventy people from sixteen countries, I was reminded in a very healthy way that not everyone sees the world like Americans do. Not everyone thinks that all we do is good and just. A Mongolian woman who was studying theology in Poland, for example, proudly gave me a pin of Ghengis Khan. My Dutch friends gave me an earful about how their country must struggle with a Muslim population that now approaches 15%. Friends from Finland simply felt like pawns in the chess game of world politics. And what would Christian students from the other 140 countries where InterVarsity is active have to say and add to our conversation?!

In a sense, then, the 911 tragedy was our country's baptism of fire into the harsh realities in which a vast majority of the world already live. We have no right or reason to live with a sense of immunity or entitlement that we should be spared from what much of the world experiences every day, especially because we are the most open society in the world and one that submits itself to the rule of law. We should not assume that our liberal democracy signals the “end of history” as Francis Fukuyama did, that is, the last and greatest political option for the world,¹ or that it is even the best alternative for every country. Other people in the world remind us that they can see things differently, and Christians should be quick to understand that.

Third, followers of Jesus also ought to be able to avoid extremist politics. This was the genius of Reinhold Niebuhr, as David Brooks points out in his article about the American theologian in the current issue of the Atlantic Monthly (September 2002). Niebuhr was a realist who fought against idealism on two fronts. First, he opposed “non-interventionists” who were embarrassed at America's power. These people exaggerate our nation's shortcomings, overlook the faults of other countries, reject most military intervention, and insist that our every action be totally virtuous. This is the “blame America first” crowd that seeks to keep its hands clean of the down-n-dirty of global politics (even while it enjoys the benefits). On the other hand, Niebuhr also opposed the hubris of the “imperialists” who view our country as only good and all other countries as somehow second class. The imperialists in their arrogance see it as our country's special mission to spread global democracy and expand free markets. They view our power only as a virtue, never as a vice, and fail to see the radical limits of what can sometimes be achieved in politics. Whether you agree with Niebuhr, he at least refuses to succumb to the ideologies of party politics, and that should be one characteristic of a follower of Jesus. The concerns of God's kingdom are not identical to the concerns of our country.

Fourth, a simple reminder that as part of God's kingdom we are urged to “pray for kings and all those in authority” (1 Timothy 2:2). The tragedy of 911, the subsequent war in Afghanistan, and the destabilizing threat of rogue leaders like Saddam Hussein all call for special wisdom, creativity and leadership on the part of our government. 911 ushered in a new day for our country as it discovers its emerging role in global politics. As Jesus calls us to be agents of salt and light, Christians might pray just how it is that we can incarnate and promote the realities of peace, justice, fairness and forgiveness, virtues that sometimes feel in short order these days.

As we pray, let us pray in a special way for the people of New York City. When I was there a few weeks ago I was struck at how palpable, how vivid the feelings and emotions of the people there are; the 911 tragedy is anything but a distant memory. For most people it still seemed to be a very present hurt. So, above all on this anniversary date, let us pray for the people of New York.