Observing 9/11 on 9/12

Observing 9/11 on 9/12
Reflections: Lessons Learned and Remembered
September 12, 2007
Rabbi Gary S. Creditor

Because today is 9/12 and not 9/11, because today, by the secular calendar is six years which isn't a number that evokes recognition, because I wasn't sure if there was anything new to say, I hesitated and procrastinated before and when sitting down to compose this sermon.

Last year, the fifth year, we held in this sanctuary an interfaith commemoration. When it was first proposed among the clergy we discussed whether or not it was necessary.
Was there anything new that needed to be said?
Should we or should we not, allow 9/11 to slowly slip into the past?
Should it become just a terribly bad dream, that being so terrible and so terrifying it blunts the mind and yet it was real, so painful that we just leave it alone?

I personally was perplexed. Life is difficult enough. The day is sometimes hard enough to get through. The computer age has made demands for speedy replies and instant messages that I cannot keep up with. Do I, we have to make it even harder by resurrecting before ourselves the horrifying and horrendous pictures of the towers on fire and then collapsing? I don't believe in self flagellation. We do not have to be masochistic. Do we, should be elevate 9/11 to a perpetual remembrance and hurt ourselves time after time after time?

I decided to set aside the material that I had saved for this season for another time, and instead ruminate on 9/11. Something inside of me said that I had to write this sermon for this night of this year, and search within me for meaning, understanding, something to hold on to, that I haven't said before.
This is my attempt.

I.

There are moments that define our character.

It might be our bar or bat mitzvah day, standing up in front of a congregation, family and friends, being scared out of our wits and trying to say the Hebrew right and stay on key. Maybe it was our wedding day, walking down the aisle, keeping walking step after step, while wondering how did we get there, even as we affirmed that we the loved the other, yet questioning whether we were ready for all this? Was it our first job? Was the birth of a child? Of a grandchild? Was it the death of the first member of our inner family?

There had to be a moment for each of us that clearly defined our character.

II.

9/11 defined our national character.

It was a moment in time when this country, you and I and our neighbors could have tottered and fallen into the chasm of internecine hatred. I remember vividly the woman who called me anonymously, her voice trembling filled with angst and almost begging me that if "we" would give back Israel, would "they" stop bombing us? That afternoon I received phone calls from clergy of other faiths concerned that the "we" of society would seek vengeance upon "them" for what "they" had done to us. Clearly the "they" and "them" were the undifferentiated Moslem/Arab American population, and the "we" were the rest of America. Yet no mosque burned. Very few hate crimes were committed. In this sanctuary, specifically in this synagogue, we were filled with people from every religious, ethnic, political, and demographic segment of our society. Those days were a test, no less severe than Isaac on the altar, a test of our national mettle, an examination of our nation's soul. We learned a lot about ourselves, our nation, and the invisible bonds that link our society, even when we have normally have little to do with each other. We learned that we do believe in each other, respect each other, and stand together with each other. We passed the test of those days. We pass it each day that we live with civility, respect, and dignity, honor in ourselves and in others.

III.

9/11 defined our personal character.

There is only one other day in my life scarier than 9/11; Yom Kippur afternoon in Jerusalem, 1973, when Ruby and I heard the sirens go off.  9/11 was a day that could have destroyed us personally, psychologically and spiritually. There are many who necessarily sought help because the cataclysmic trauma was so great. Yet somehow, each of us, forever scared by the sight of the Pentagon, the Pennsylvania field and New York City, had to find a way to live positive, fulfilling lives. This journey isn't easy and it will last forever. Whenever I enter New York City, by plane or by car I automatically search the horizon, knowing what I won't find, and reminding myself what once was. That is very difficult. It is even more difficult to watch movies filmed in New York City that intentionally or inadvertently used the Towers as a backdrop. To see them still standing in all their innocence and all their glory is very painful.

Our first grandchild, Ariel Shlomit was born March 31, 2002. On 9/11 Liz was already pregnant and had to walk sixty city blocks to get home. Menachem asked me to speak at the reception for her Simchat Bat, naming ceremony, held in the Seminary cafeteria. I said to our son and his wife and all assembled, that the birth of Ariel, of any and every child, particularly now, was an affirmation of life, that we are born and bear others in order to build and rebuild, to proclaimthat there should be, must be a just, honest and loving society. Anything less was submission to evil. That was not acceptable. It did not answer the divine summons addressed personally to each of us. We could not and would not allow evil, allow others to define us and proscribe our lives.

However each and every one of us did it, knowingly and unknowingly, consciously and unconsciously, as we emergedwhole and positive, 9/11 defined our personal character.

IV.

9/11 defined our future.

We will never go to the airport carefree. We will always stand on lines. We will always have to throw things away. They will always inspect our luggage rigorously. We will always have to come to the airport at least an hour early. Our children or grandchildren, depending on our and theirs, will never know the life we lived before. There will always be articles in the media about security, good and bad. Life has forever changed, and we must accept it.

We will never look at the globe and think that other places are far away. Nothing is far away anymore. More than the computer and the web, 9/11 showed that people and places on opposite sides of earth are really next door. Oceans and outer space do not separate us. Beyond commerce and trade, 9/11 knitted together global events.

While they were always there, we now clearly see the diversity of our demographics, that the United States, that Richmond, is a patchwork quilt of many different peoples. That is our future. It is now. We have to trust that even as a terrorist cell is discovered and destroyed, our neighbors who speak Arabic had nothing to do with it. And the Moslem/Arab American community must be like the rest of society, loyal Americans. We must be able to work together as Jews, Christians and Moslems to better our society, as I do, serving on the Virginia Interfaith Center for Public Policy, and set aside politics that are divisive. That is our present and must be our future. We never thought about it that way before. But that is the way it is now and forevermore.

V.

As in every tragedy, people ask: "Where is God?"

In a special sense, 9/11 helped us define our faith. I remember that first erev Shabbat after 9/11. So many people came to shul that usually didn't. They came because they sought to affirm that there was a greater power that could be invoked to protect us. That is a worthy motivation and prayer. That faith in God enabled us to face the pain of evil and find the humanity of many decent people. Our faith in God, regardless of differing theologies, belief in the universality of God led to belief in the universality of humanity. That united us. That helped heal us. That faith gave us hope, for our selves and for a better tomorrow.

We learned from our faith that our destinies are in our own hands. We will always have the childlike naïveté wanting God to reach out from above and, like Superman, intercede to stop the speeding plane. God doesn't work like that, at least, not any more. President Kennedy got the quote right: "God's work on earth must surely be our own." God gives us the faith that we can conquer evil, we can transcend, and we can build, surely as buildings will once again ascend into the clouds from the footprints of the Twin Towers, just as the Pentagon was rebuilt, just as grass and flowers grow and bloom once again in Pennsylvania. Faith in God animates us, elevates us.

Conclusion

A generation may have its defining moment. For us it will ever be 9/11. It has defined our national character and our personal one as well. It defines our present and our future. It always will. And in a mysterious, special way, it has helped define our faith.

I wish to close these thoughts by paying homage to the men and women, the firemen, police, emergency people who answered the call and gave their lives in the attempt to save others. They fulfilled the traditions of their departments and served without hesitation. Let us remember the heroism of those upon Flight ____ who averted additional catastrophe. O Lord, give us the strength we need to live the values that they exhibited that day, the values of generosity, compassion and commitment. Lord, help us to recognize that as their reward, You have taken them to Yourself, where nothing can ever harm them again. May they rest in peace. May that peace bless us too.          

Amen.