Pentecost XIII - Skip Windsor

The Shadow of the Cross

Let us pray: Be with us, O God, and give us the Spirit of Christ. Amen.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?
Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble, tremble.
Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

After American Flight 11 hit the North Tower in New York city, after United Flight 175 hit the South Tower, after the twin towers fell, after almost 2800 people died in the carnage, and after people began to clear through the debris and detritus of lower Manhattan, a reporter asked the then vicar of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church– and the current Bishop of Florida - Sam Howard about what happened on 9/11.

Howard replied, “For years we lived in the shadow of the Twin Towers, now we live in the shadow of the Cross.”

Remembering 9/11 is similar to remembering the assassination of President Kennedy or the bombing of Pearl Harbor. We may not recall a birthday or a summer vacation very well but there is something galvanizing about a frightening and unexpected global event. As we observe the tragic and horrific events of 9/11, many of us can recall where we were that clear day in September a decade ago.

Ten years ago and two days, the Rev. Debbie Little, founder of Ecclesia Ministries in Boston, asked me to take the September 9th Sunday service for her on the Boston Common. She said she would be away that weekend to do a broadcast on Tuesday about Ecclesia for the Episcopal Church’s media division in New York City.

On Tuesday morning, on September 11th, at around 8:35 in the morning, Debbie called me from her taxicab, to ask how the service went on the Common the day before. We talked for a few minutes and then she said she had to hang up and would talk later because she had arrived at her destination in lower Manhattan at Trinity Church, Wall Street. When she left the cab and walked into the Trinity Church, it was then that the world exploded into thousands of pieces.

My son, Ben, called me minutes later and said, “Dad, turn on your TV. Something terrible has happened in New York. A plane has hit one of the twin towers!” Turning on TV, I became one of millions of people to witness the terrible events of that day. As it began to sink in, and I thought about friends I knew in New York, I thought of Debbie there at Trinity Church less than two blocks away from what we now call “Ground Zero.” I tried calling Debbie back. No reply. I tried again. No answer.

All morning, I kept trying to reach Debbie; and it was not until early afternoon that she called me back saying she was safe with others down at the Battery at the southern tip of Manhattan. She told me her odyssey of leaving the smoke filled basement of the church helping a young mother get to safety. With her were other clergy who were scheduled to speak for the recording including Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, who would later write a book, Writing in the Dust: After 9/11, about his own experiences of that day.

Later on, Debbie called again and said she was walking north from the Battery along the East River with others to escape the massive cloud that had shrouded them all. She recalled that when she walked out of the cloud into the bright sunshine of mid-town New York it was as if she had walked into another world. In the clear air, she saw people drinking coffee, watching the TV monitors, and going places just like another day that was so different from what she had just experienced. I asked Debbie if she was OK and had a place to stay. She said she was OK and that she called a friend in the City and was going to stay there for the night.

I trembled with Debbie. I trembled with everyone else. I trembled that day for a world turned upside down. Today, I still tremble, as I believe so many others do. But, what gives me hope this day is what Howard said in the aftermath of 9/11 about standing in the shadow of the Cross. It is through the cross, God turned an upside down world right side up. Through the cross, God became one of us so that we could become one with God. Through the cross, we believe that God weeps with us, comforts us, and leads us from darkness into light.

Abraham Lincoln once said that when he did not know what to do in difficult times, he fell on his knees. There are times in everyone’s life we have to let go and let God. When the ground rumbles, when the foundations shake, when the world comes crushing down, and when there is no where else to turn, we can look to the Cross; and in front of that symbol of life and death and resurrection, we, like Lincoln, have no where else to go but on our knees.

The Christian writer, Phyllis Trible, reflected upon the events of 9/11 and said once at a conference held at Trinity Wall Street several years later that there were two 9/11’s. One was the 9/11 event of terrorist attacks by radical Muslims and that the country had been victimized and violated requiring a violent response that led to the War on Terror and the invasion of Iraq.

The second 9/11 took a different route for those who were there at “Ground Zero.” There were documented acts of unparalleled bravery by firemen, police, and first responders. There were strangers helping strangers. There were men and women of different faiths praying together. There were public street workers and corporate lawyers working as one carrying people to safety.

Bound together by their common humanity, and brought together under the most egregious circumstances people came together to help one another. For Trible, she said that those on the ground that day responded entirely differently because, to use her words, “they were burned through with compassion.”

The 20th century Indian political and spiritual leader, Mahatma Gandhi, said that, “An eye for eye makes the whole world blind.”

As a country we have sought retribution for 9/11 in a certain way; and whether it is the right or wrong way, we know more lives have been lost. Will there come a day when there will be peace among all people regardless of religion, race or creed? Is it possible, as we remember the dead and reflect upon the consequences of that dreadful day, that something good can come from the ashes of despair? Can we forgive but not forget?

The Gospel Lesson for today speaks about forgiveness and reconciliation. Peter asks Jesus how many times must one forgive their neighbor? Jesus uses hyperbole to say seventy times to clarify “always” and reinforces his point with a story. Jesus cleverly uses the parable of the unforgiving servant whose debts are forgiven by his king but he in turn does not forgive others indebted to him to make the point that if God forgives us we are obligated to forgive others. Forgiveness does not imply forgetting but does ask that we let go of the spiritual and emotional toxins of hate. As Jesus leads his followers further into discipleship, Jesus teaches them how to pray offering words that you and I say every Sunday: “Forgive us our trespasses we forgive those who trespass against us.

As we gather as a nation to observe the 10th anniversary of the tragic events of 9/11 and its aftermath, we are invited to consider whether there is work left undone and whether the compassion that was burned through us years ago still needs to be burned deeper into our hearts and minds.

As we live through this day of remembrance, we live with the hope to see tomorrow, another day, a new day, on Monday, January 12th. The work of repentance and forgiveness, reconciliation and peace, will continue. And it will continue from generation to generation. May this day not be merely a number and a month on a calendar but ignite us into acts of reconciliation and peace and burn within us as an eternal fire in the heart that trembles, trembles with hope for a better, more peaceful, world.