Friday, September 11, 2015

There’s a Kind of Hush


There was a hush in the world this morning.  Darkness as I slipped out of my house. It was the kind of quiet you dream about.  It allows for prayer.  For reflection.  For thoughtfulness.

Today is 9/11.  I said a prayer for the families of those who died on that terrible day. I thought of the people who were caught up in this microcosm of our world… those of all faiths.  Good people.  Bad people.  And, just the ordinary run-of-the-mill people.  There was probably a guy named John who commuted in that morning reading his newspaper.  He took the elevator up to his office.  He probably had just made himself a cup of coffee…

And then he died.

I read a line somewhere that hundreds of people had packed for travel that morning and were never given the chance to unpack.  There were children who never grew up to graduate from college, get married, raise children of their own, or to make their own contribution to the world.

Yesterday, I had lunch with Rick.  We worked together on the original 9/11.  I said, “Do you remember being at the office?” 

He said, “Yes.  Someone had a tv.  Who was it?”  I remembered the TV, but couldn’t recall who had it on.

We were all transfixed.  Just as we were for the Challenger disaster.  Watching the explosion and devastation over and over again as reporters swept through the scenes of that awful destruction.
I was in shock.  I couldn’t breathe or speak or sleep for a week.  From then on, whatever bubble of innocence was left to us in America was burst. 

To this day, I can’t fathom the evil that lives in this world.  We are all people… just people.  The mass killings aren’t a thing of survival.  Nothing drives them other than the desire of one person to see another person die.

I know religious friends that would like to tie this one onto Islam as a whole.  But, I know very good Muslim people.  And, I know that the evil ones want to think that all Christians or all Americans or all women are bad and need to be rooted out.  But, we are not all one person.  We give more than any other nation to charity and to humanitarian efforts.  As you kill off the people who do these things, you lessen the good and heighten the risk of ultimate chaos.

My one thread of hope in all of this resides in my faith that if I hold strong and do good and if others do good, we will overcome.  I remember a game in my childhood called Red Rover.  Two teams would stand in a line facing each other, arms entwined.  One team would yell, “Red Rover, Red Rover, let (whoever) come over.”  One person from the other team would charge and try to break between two people on the opposing team.  If the hold held, the runner had to join the opposing team.  If the hold broke, one of that team had to join the runner’s team. 

We can’t break our hold, folks.  We can’t descend into that blackness. The following is from my favorite book.  The story revolves around children fighting against evil to retrieve their father with the help of some very interesting creatures.

“Itt iss Eevill…"
"What is going to happen?"
"Wee wwill cconnttinnue tto ffightt!"…
"And we’re not alone, you know, children," came Mrs.Whatsit, the comforter. "…some of the best fighters have come from your own planet…"
"Who have our fighters been?" Calvin asked.
"Oh, you must know them, dear," Mrs.Whatsit said. Mrs.Who’s spectacles shone out at them triumphantly.

"And the light shineth in the darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.”