Remembering 9-11 ... Differently

I wake up this morning thinking about this day, twelve years ago. The tragedy, the sadness, and then the almost-immediate backlash in this country against all Muslims. I drink my first cup of morning coffee and look at Facebook postings. Most of my friends post some kind of memorian to those who died, those who still mourn, and those who came to the rescue of others. I do the same. And yet a few of my friends post unpleasant comments about the "Million Muslim March" planned today in Washington, DC. Yes, they are my friends, and some of my family, although we don't share certain opinions.

I think back to last Sunday's Holy Eucharist, its readings and hymns. Some seem so well-positioned for my thoughts this week, like Hymn 603.

"When Christ was lifted from the earth,
his arms stretched out above
through every culture, every birth,
to draw an answering love.

Still east and west his love extends
and always, near or far,
he calls and claims us as his friends
and loves us as we are.

Where generation, class, or race
divide us to our shame,
he sees and labels but a face,
a person, and a name.

Thus freely loved, though fully known,
may I in Christ be free
to welcome and accept his own
as Christ accepted me."

He "loves us as we are." Even if we don't always love each other. Even if we don't worship Him. Even if we can't see beyond the skin color and the clothing and the politics and the religion and the other things that make people different. And wonderful.

The first lesson from the Book of Jeremiah (18:1-11) compares God to a potter. "Just like the clay in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel.  At one moment I may declare concerning a nation or a kingdom, that I will pluck up and break down and destroy it,  but if that nation, concerning which I have spoken, turns from its evil, I will change my mind about the disaster that I intended to bring on it.  And at another moment I may declare concerning a nation or a kingdom that I will build and plant it, but if it does evil in my sight, not listening to my voice, then I will change my mind about the good that I had intended to do to it." God is telling us that any nation, any people, can have hope. If they do what is right, even after doing what was wrong, they will be forgiven and can start anew. This applies to others, and it also applies to us. Are we without guilt?

The second lesson, from the Letter of Paul to Philemon (1:17-18), Paul writes about a former slave, Onesimus. "So if you consider me your partner, welcome him as you would welcome me.  If he has wronged you in any way, or owes you anything, charge that to my account." It's all about forgiveness.

 

Finally, in our Postcommunion Prayer we say, "We humbly beseech thee, O heavenly Father, so to assist us with thy grace, that we may continue in that holy fellowship, and do all such good works as thou hast prepared for us to walk in."

 

On this day, I remember those who died, those who still mourn, and those who came to the rescue of others. But I also remember, and pray for, all those who have suffered innocently because we are not by nature a forgiving people. And I hope that, "Thus freely loved, though fully known, may I in Christ be free to welcome and accept his own as Christ accepted me."