The 22nd Anniversary of 9/11

We are now just two weeks from Rosh HaShanah, the Jewish New Year, which begins Sunday night, September 25th.  This is a wonderful time to look back on the year that has nearly passed, examine our conduct and see the ways in which we might return to the best that we have within us.

And we are also commemorating the 21st anniversary of 9/11 today.  While the memory of that terrible day has faded into history for most of us, Judaism is a religion that focuses on the importance of preserving memory and learning from our past.

The World Trade Center and Pentagon murders perpetrated by Al Qaida were a brutal destruction of life, and the responses these horrific acts provoked led to death and destruction around the world.

Nearly 3,000 people were murdered on 9/11, and the circles of grief and loss extended far beyond the many victims to their families, friends, and communities, to the serious health and psychological problems of first responders and those within range of the destruction. 

The emotional trauma severely damaged our nation and our world.  9/11 changed many things, virtually none of them for good.  Forces were unleashed we scarcely understand even now, 21 years later, and over which we are not really in control.

I chaired 9/11 commemorations here in Tucson for ten years, coordinated and participated in many events remembering those who died.  In every one of those ceremonies we chose to create bonds of respect, honor and love across all boundary lines of religion and race.  We did this because it was right.  But we also did this because we needed to demonstrate to those who perform despicable acts in the hopes of destroying human solidarity that they create the opposite effect.   Their acts of violence and evil brought Americans together and engendered respect, understanding and love among people with varying beliefs and of different races and origins. 

Over the decade of 9/11 commemorations I chaired, and many I participated in later, it was clear that interest waned over time.  In 2001 we all needed to gather and share and pray and heal one another.  In 2002 we still needed to gather to pray, mourn and remember.  But each year thereafter, no matter how moving the ceremonies or how broad a group we gathered—our high was 24 different religious denominations represented in our Tucson Multi-Faith Alliance services—the numbers of attendees diminished.  It’s the way of the world: immediate tragedy becomes memory and quickly moves into history before we even notice.

This year, I suspect, most of us see this date as a time to mourn those whose lives were stolen from them over two decades ago.  Some see it as a time to focus on the war against terrorism and religious insanity, such as the radical, evil form of Saudi Islam that intoxicated the perpetrators of 9/11 and still threatens civilization in many parts of the world.  

But some of us choose to see this date as a reminder of what America can be when it decides to be.  At a time of great trauma and crisis what was most extraordinary was the way Americans pulled together.  We reached out across all boundary lines of race, creed, color, and politics and supported each other.  Arizonans and Southerners and Midwesterners all cared about New York, Red State and Blue State differences didn’t matter, Republicans and Democrats bonded over shared tragedy and the dedication to healing, strength and pride.

I’d like to suggest that we look back in a different way at the aftermath of 9/11.  Not because there was anything to be nostalgic about in 9/11: it was horror and disaster, a national loss of innocence and sense of security.  But there was a quality to the way we Americans responded then that teaches us something essential we have forgotten recently. 

After 9/11, when things seemed blackest, Americans chose to seek each other’s understanding, respect, support, and love, and to offer those to one another freely and with concern and care. 

Thank God, and our US intelligence services, we do not face another 9/11 today.  But at a time of ever-increasing national discord and division, of the endless online cultivation of mutual disrespect and hatred, we can take an essential lesson from that terrible time.  We can personally and collectively choose to build respect, understanding and love in our society.  We can reach out across religious lines and celebrate the greatest strength of America: our amazing diversity.  We can demonstrate caring and kindness in place of anger and hostility.  We can show respect for one another’s faith, race, gender, identity, even politics.

We can choose to do what Americans are supposed to do: reject the temptations of easy stereotyping and quick judgment.  And then we can do what Americans are best at, in a pinch: we can pull together and seek to make our country, and our world, truly better, more generous, more respectful, more gracious. 

God knows, this world can use it.