“Do not fear, I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name; you are mine.”
–Isaiah 43:1
In the three years of this blog’s existence I have only twice made a post on a day other than a Sunday. The 25th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on 9/11 seemed like the appropriate occasion to make another exception.
For any of you who are older than thirty, the memories of that traumatic occasion live on. It immediately became one of those “where were you when you heard the news” kind of moments just as the attack at Pearl Harbor and the assassination of President Kennedy had that effect on previous generations.
I suspect the calendar turn to this day has caused memories to re-surface for you. Recalling the fear and uncertainty that gripped our land as we heard of attacks at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon and the crash in Shanksville, PA. Of the frantic phone calls made and the grounding of air travel. Of the unity that emerged in our land afterwards and the need to gather with others for strength. I will never forget the Sunday after 9/11 as there was a look on people’s faces that morning in the sanctuary that I had never seen before. The only way I could describe it was as if people were saying with their eyes “We need a word of hope today.”
In recent days, there have been news articles and television specials recalling what happened a quarter century ago and analyzing its continuing impact upon our world. There will be somber memorials across the country today and classroom lessons on the topic taught in our schools. All of those observances are an appropriate way to remember and honor those who died.
A few years ago, Lori and I visited the 9/11 Memorial Museum in New York City. If you have not been I highly recommend it as in a respectful yet clear way, it recalls both the events and impact of that day. There is much about the experience to ponder, but what stood out for me along with all of the artifacts from that day were the names. In one area, you walk into a room and immediately see walls filled with photos. In an adjacent theater the screen shows one-by-one each of those images along with a name and a brief description of one that victim from that day.
Outside the museum are two reflecting pools built in the footprint of the Twin Towers. Water flows from the top where one also sees bronze parapets with names stenciled in them, recalling both those who died on 9/11 and at the parking garage bombing there in 1993. Recognition of employees and fire fighters, law enforcement and other first responders, passengers and crew, visitors and chaplains, even an acknowledgement of children who died in utero. All the names appear, nearly 3000 of them, representing 86 countries of the world.
As the two of us walked around the pools prior to our entry that day, we saw a man who I’m guessing was on his way to work. With great intentionality, he walked toward a spot on one of the parapets, placed his hand in the water that flows just beneath the metal, brought his fingers to his lips and then touched a particular name. After patting the name with his hand and offering silent testimony to that loved one’s memory and ongoing impact he continued on his way.
Amidst another time of uncertainty God spoke the words we heard moments ago. The initial recipients of that message were the Israelites who lived in exile. They had witnessed the destruction of the Temple, an unthinkable loss as it symbolized God’s presence with them. They feared for their future and wondered if God had abandoned them. Such emotions were present during the chaos of 9/11, too.
It was in the midst of such a moment that God said ““Do not fear, I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are mine.”
Thankfully, that promise remains true still for you and me.
Eternal One, on a day filled with memory of unimaginable trauma, help me to trust that your unbreakable love remains. And that you still call me by name. Amen.
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