Looking Back On 9/11: Faith, Memory And Hope 25 Years Later
Unsplash photo
(ESSAY) Sept. 11 is a date that remains forever etched in the memory of an entire generation. Twenty-five years later, the images are still difficult to forget: Planes striking New York’s World Trade Center, smoke rising over the Pentagon in Washington, people running through the streets, firefighters climbing stairs and families waiting for phone calls that would never come.
For millions of Americans, 9/11 divided life into a “before” and an “after.” From a Christian perspective, looking back on that terrible day reminds us of the fragility of life. The events of 9/11 changed the world, but they did not change the character of God. He remains the God who sees the brokenhearted, strengthens the weary, calls His people to love their neighbors and promises that one day suffering will end.
Twenty-five years later, we pray that our remembrance will lead us towards greater compassion, deeper faith, less polarization and a more peaceful world.
‘Reality of evil’
One of the toughest questions Christians like myself faced after the attacks that killed 2,977 innocent people was that of suffering. If God is loving and powerful, why did He allow such evil to happen? It is a question without an easy answer.
Christianity does not pretend that evil is easily explained. The Bible itself is filled with people who cried out to God in the midst of suffering. The Book of Psalms repeatedly asks, “How long, Lord?” Job wrestled with the loss of nearly everything he loved. Even Jesus, facing the cross, cried out in anguish.
Three days after the attacks, the Rev. Billy Graham, during a memorial service at Washington’s National Cathedral, said the following to a shocked nation:
First, we are reminded of the mystery and reality of evil. I have been asked hundreds of times why God allows tragedy and suffering. I have to confess that I do not know the answer. I have to accept, by faith, that God is sovereign, and that He is a God of love and mercy and compassion in the midst of suffering.
The Bible says God is not the Author of evil. In 2 Thessalonians 2:7 the Bible talks about the mystery of iniquity. The Old Testament Prophet Jeremiah said, “The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure.”
The lesson of this event is not only about the mystery of iniquity and evil, but, second, it’s a lesson about our need for each other.
Those words gave me some comfort at the time. Christianity does not tell us that suffering is good. Rather, it tells us that God enters into our suffering. At the center of Christianity is the image of Christ on the cross — a God who does not remain distant from human pain, but experiences rejection, violence, grief and death Himself.
When we remember those who died on 9/11, we can believe that their suffering and the grief of those who loved them were not invisible to God.
Acts of courage
Twenty-five years later, it is also important to remember the extraordinary acts of courage and compassion that emerged from the tragedy. Firefighters, police officers, emergency workers, military personnel, clergy, volunteers and everyday citizens showed remarkable selflessness.
Many ran toward danger while others were desperately trying to escape it. Christians recognize in such sacrifice a reflection, however imperfect, of Christ's command to love others sacrificially.
The heroism shown on 9/11 reminds us that courage is not simply the absence of fear. Courage is choosing to do what is right despite fear. The stories of those who gave their lives trying to save others remain powerful examples of that kind of love.
As a journalist, I was in downtown Manhattan that morning. In 2018, in a piece posted to Religion Unplugged, I recalled the following:
I worked at the New York Post at the time. I had been there since the summer of 1998 and had worked on hundreds of stories. From fires to murders, I had covered nearly every corner of the city. This was my dream job. I was reporting in the place where I was born and raised. I worked for a newspaper that was known around the country for its sensational page-one stories and memorable headlines. It was hard work, but I loved it.
None of that would prepare me for what took place on Sept. 11. Reporters, like myself, were taken by surprise just like everyone else. While everyone fled for safety, my task — and the task of many New York journalists and editors that day – was to tell the story. From the first plane hitting the World Trade Center to its eventual destruction to the death of nearly 3,000 people, we had to tell the story. Our job was to chronicle the horrific events of that morning, talk to people about what they saw, what they did and how they felt. The need for action left little room for reaction.
This is the moment I’ll never forget:
I was on Worth Street near West Broadway — about 10 blocks from the World Trade Center — gazing up at the North Tower when at 10:28 a.m. it came crumbling down. The sight of the building falling on itself amid a backdrop of people on the street screaming and wailing is the one thing I remember most from that awful day. I will never forget the loud, crunching sound those steel beams made as the building came crashing down. My heart sank. In that moment it was as if I had gone from local reporter to war correspondent in a matter of seconds.
To see all that death and destruction was overwhelming. I was also overcome with sadness. It was as if I was no longer even a news reporter. I was a New Yorker who had seen his beloved city destroyed, his city’s skyline forever altered. I was also an American who had witnessed the worst act of terrorism in this nation’s history.
The attacks were carried out in the name of a distorted religious ideology, but Christians must be careful not to respond by condemning entire peoples or religions. Evil committed by individuals or groups should never become an excuse for hatred toward innocent people. Jesus commanded His followers to love their enemies and pray for those who persecute them. That teaching is very difficult, especially when remembering an atrocity, but it is at the heart of Christian discipleship.
Forgiveness does not mean pretending evil does not exist or happen. It does not mean abandoning justice or forgetting those who were killed.
Forgiveness means refusing to allow hatred to have the final word. Justice ultimately belongs to God, while our responsibility is to pursue truth, protect the innocent, seek peace and love our neighbors.
The passage of 25 years has also changed what 9/11 means. For those who lived through it like myself, the memories can feel immediate. We live in a post-9/11 world where tight security measures at airports, concerts and sporting events have become the norm. In 2001, they were not.
Grief and unity
For millions of people alive today who were not yet born when the attacks took place, a pre-9/11 world is something they have no knowledge of or experience with. For them, 9/11 is history rather than personal memory.
That places a responsibility on those who remember to tell the story honestly — not only about the destruction, but also the courage, compassion, unity and grief that followed. I’m not so sure — in today’s polarized world where social media hot takes are the norm — that all those elements could come together again. At the same time, misinformation today would spread more rapidly.
In 2001, such technology was not widely available. Cell phones did exist, but we were still largely an analog society. As a result, we were able to come together as a nation to mourn.
While technology has changed how we witness and respond to death and destruction, it has not changed the deeper questions that such moments raise about suffering and hope. Those questions invite us to consider what, if anything, lies beyond death.
Christianity teaches that death and destruction do not have the final word. Jesus’ resurrection is the foundation of Christian hope. Christians believe that even though death is real and grief is painful, death is not the end. God promises a future in which suffering, mourning and death will ultimately be overcome.
Twenty-five years after the attacks, we remember those who died, those who survived, those who served and the families who continue to carry the burden of loss.
We remember the darkness, but we also remember the light that appeared within it.
Clemente Lisi serves as executive editor at Religion Unplugged.