All of us who were around at the time remember where we were and what we were doing on the 11th of September 2001. I was on a train. News of the terrible events unfolding in New York and at the Pentagon spread through the carriage. We talked nervously to each other, phoned family and friends for news, and tried to get information as best we could in a world that hadn’t yet invented the smartphone.
A woman sitting opposite me didn’t join in the feverish and, frankly, terrified chatter. Quietly, as the noise levels rose around her and as, in fact, the whole world watched in dread disbelief as the second plane crashed into the second tower, she got her Bible out of her handbag and sat silently reading words from scripture and praying under her breath.
25 years on we still remember that day with sadness and horror. Nearly 3000 people died on 9/11. And behind that terrible number are thousands of families whose lives were changed forever and who still carry that loss. Moreover, the effects of that terrible day reached far beyond New York and Washington. The world that changed on 9/11 in New York was followed by 7/7 in London. The language of security and suspicion entered our everyday lives. Muslim communities, and anyone perceived to be Muslim, in many countries experienced increased prejudice and hostility, as the actions of a violent extremist minority were wrongly associated with an entire faith and its followers. Communities have been displaced, countries become more destabilised, and a generation has grown up in the shadow of terrorism and military conflict.
These consequences remind us that acts of violence rarely end where they begin. Fear travels. Grief travels. Anger travels. But so too can compassion, courage and solidarity.
How do we respond today? Well, my mind travels back to that woman on the train opening her Bible and quietly praying. We need more than this to build a peaceful world, but we cannot do it without finding a way of recognising our common humanity, one that takes us beyond the hatreds, prejudices and conflicts which led to 9/11 and followed from it. While we must condemn and continue to condemn the mindless and heartless acts of terrorism that still bedevil our world, we also must resist the temptation to pull up our drawbridge on our neighbour or think we can build peace by building bigger walls of separation.
Twenty-five years is a long time. A child born that September is now an adult. For a new generation, 9/11 is something to be learned about rather than remembered. Yet for those who lived through it, the memories remain painfully immediate. For the families of those who died, this anniversary is not history, but a continued absence. Let us remember them today. But let’s also remember the firefighters, police officers, paramedics and other first responders who ran towards danger while others were trying to escape it.
The temptation after an atrocity is to allow fear to become hatred, and hatred to become division. The Christian vocation is harder. We are called to resist evil without becoming captive to it; to seek justice without surrendering mercy; and, even when it seems beyond our strength, to pray and work for peace.
Jesus does not promise that peace will be easy. He calls us to be peacemakers precisely because the world so often chooses another way.
Twenty-five years on, therefore, we mourn those who were lost. We honour those who showed extraordinary courage. We grieve the suffering that followed. And we commit ourselves again to a world in which terror does not have the final word.
I have stood at the memorial at Ground Zero, where the footprints of the Twin Towers are now marked by the names of those who died. It is a profoundly moving place. But as we remember today, I think we can learn a lot from that woman on the train. I don’t know which passages of the Bible she was reading, but that narrative about a humanity which is united in Christ is what our world needs. And indeed, the comfort of knowing that amid the horrors of this world, and even in death itself, God is with us.
Stephen Cottrell, Archbishop of York
Prayer
Almighty God,
Father of all mercies and giver of all comfort:
on this anniversary,
and reflecting on the painful images and events
of this day:
deal graciously with those who mourn,
that, casting all their care on you,
they may know the consolation of your love; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.