9/11: A Call to Forgiveness. Sermon by W. Dreyman

Transcription

1 1 9/11: A Call to Forgiveness Sermon by W. Dreyman September 11, 2011 Lec 24/13 Pent Later today some of you will gather with members of your community to remember 9/11. You will remember the beauty of that day 10 years ago and the shock of learning the horror of what a few men did. You will think back to the destruction of the Twin Towers, of the attack on the Pentagon and the brave men and women who sacrificed themselves and brought the fourth plan down in Pennsylvania. You will remember, the events, the great heroism and the tenacious workers who would help not only the victims, but also the nation, to survive this occasion of profound loss. It is good that we are moved to remember, for in our remembrance the people of that day, even the ones who perished, live on. The victims, first-responders, construction workers, clergy, counselors, teachers, the givers of food and money, the leaders of our communities, are all remembered. Remembering is a way that the community survives an occasion of common loss. We are called together to remember. Think of the way we remember stories and people from the Bible. We recall Moses and Miriam, the story of the Passover and link that to the remembrance of Jesus death and resurrection and name him the Lamb of God. Undoubtedly, we will tell and retell stories of people and events of 9/11 and they will take on new meaning in a similar way. We are called together to remember. As I wrote in the last edition of the newsletter: We are also called by

2 2 the Gospel to a life dedicated to forgiveness. Matthew quotes Jesus clearly on this. In a passage which is, literarily speaking, a classic, Peter asks Jesus if he must forgive 7 times and Jesus answers 77 times. The Lord is saying there is no number for the times we are called to forgive. This does not mean we accept the behavior or gloss over it lightly. This does not mean accepting our victimization and acting like door-mats before those who would hurt us. It does mean looking upon the ones who have acted against us as human beings, created for love by God, who have failed by turning their hatred towards others in a demonic way. Jesus uses a parable to explain the depth of this command. We see that it is about much more than financial wrongs in the community. It is about the necessity of forgiving a wrong committed like a king who forgives the great debt of a servant until he learns that the servant has not forgiven the debt of another. Then he calls the servant back and calls him to account for himself. Jesus says: So my heavenly father will also do to everyone of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from you heart (v 35). This parable paints a difficult picture of God as one who punishes those who don t forgive. But think of it a different way: Look at the suffering of those who are unable to forgive. Nelson Mandela has written about the absence of forgiveness. He says: Not to forgive is like drinking a glass of poison and waiting for your enemies to die. Maybe this is what Jesus was getting at when he spoke of God s punishment for those who will not forgive: That the result of failing

3 3 to forgive others is like a consuming poison. It hurts us much more than it hurts our enemies. Listen to this story by Marilyn Jones in the Christian Science Monitor: Forgiveness didn't mean much to the Rev. Lyndon Harris on Sept. 11, He was too busy helping rescuers at the World Trade Center towers. He couldn't have known that one day he, too, would require rescue from his own ground zero. After the twin towers fell, Father Harris spent the morning evacuating children from the nursery school at Trinity Church Wall Street two blocks from the crash site. As he prayed and worked, he had no idea how dramatically his life would change. All the children and their parents working nearby survived. For Harris the day went by in a blur. He spent most of it on the street, helping. The next morning, still dazed, he arrived at little St. Paul's Chapel, just up the street from Trinity. Ashes covered the cemetery out back, but the 200-year-old sanctuary where George Washington once worshiped was intact. As the newly appointed priest in charge of St. Paul's, Harris made a decision. With his superiors at Trinity out of town, he spontaneously opened the chapel to the hundreds of workers at ground zero. For eight months, St. Paul's became a refuge to firefighters, workers, heavy-equipment operators, and police officers. Open 24 hours a day, St. Paul's served more than a half million meals. Counselors, musicians, and an untold number of volunteers from around the world helped. The grimy faces and worn bodies of the workers showed the strain of their bleak work. But the smiles and uplifted waves to news cameras also revealed how profoundly touched these workers felt by the outpouring of love. Cards, letters, posters, quilts, and pictures hung from every fence, surface, pew, and wall of the "little chapel that stood." Once emergency operations ceased, St. Paul's closed for inspection, and Harris faced the realities of life in a hierarchical organization. "The heights of joy I was blessed to share while serving others at St. Paul's Chapel were soon matched by the depths of my despair," he

4 4 recalls. "Internal divisions concerning the direction of the ministries at St. Paul's boiled over. I wound up resigning." Over the next three years, Harris's life spiraled down. His lungs had been compromised by exposure to the air at ground zero. He lost his house through foreclosure, and his marriage ended in divorce. "PTSD [post-traumatic stress disorder] and depression began taking over my life. I was bitter and resentful," he says. At one point, a good friend listened to Harris's woes. But rather than commiserating, he threw down a challenge: What if you could forgive? Harris hung up the phone. But then he got to thinking: "Of course I had to forgive!" he says. "I'm a Christian pastor! It's part of my job description." He called his friend back and told him he'd give it a try. That decision marked a turning point. Finally, Harris says, he could hear [those] words attributed to Nelson Mandela: "Not to forgive is like drinking a glass of poison and waiting for your enemies to die." Harris admits he drank deeply of that poison mostly, he says, "because it tasted so good." Out of the ashes of his despair, forgiveness began to bloom. He spent two years as a consultant to The Cathedral Church of Saint John the Divine (Episcopal) in New York City. As his health returned, he traveled to Beirut, Lebanon, to visit Alexandra Asseily. She had begun a movement to plant a Garden of Forgiveness in her beloved Lebanon after its civil war, which claimed more than 300,000 lives. The greatest gift to one's children, Ms. Asseily teaches, is to become a better ancestor. And that, she says, is done through forgiveness. When he returned from Beirut, Harris joined with Dr. Fred Luskin of the Stanford Forgiveness Project to found their own nonprofit group: The Gardens of Forgiveness project. They want to fulfill Asseily's vision by planting gardens around the world. What better way to express life-affirming qualities of forgiveness than by cultivating living beauty in the earth? Harris and Dr. Luskin also developed a forgiveness curriculum for middle-school students. Two New York City schools began teaching it four years ago, and more schools will soon come on board. The Gardens of Forgiveness project has planted gardens throughout New

5 5 York State and in Chicago. The project also has partners in Durban and Soweto, South Africa; Uganda; and Liberia that are exploring planting Gardens of Forgiveness. Harris also dreams of a garden at ground zero in New York City one day, and one at Gettysburg, Pa., to help heal wounds that linger from the Civil War.... (from the Christian Science Monitor, July 27, 2009). Even clergy struggle with forgiveness. It is not an end in itself, but is a process; a way of life. The ability to forgive our enemies enables us to broaden our view of the world. Heartsong Church is a congregation in Cordova, Tennessee. Their church board was approached in the spring of 2010 by an Islamic congregation building a mosque on adjacent property. Because construction had fallen behind schedule, the Islamic congregation asked if there was a large classroom available in the Heartsong building where their members could worship during the approaching Ramadan season. The Pastor and board of trustees of this large United Methodist Church gave them permission to use their main worship space in the building. The members of the Islamic congregation were so moved by this gesture that a relationship formed between the two congregations. They bring members together to serve meals to the hungry in the area. They each donated 4 acres along their common boundary to be developed as a garden of peace. One of the members who had been against the space-sharing of Heartsong Church, had a broadening experience. Now he says: I don t fear my Muslim neighbors. I don t fear my Jewish neighbors. I don t fear my Christian neighbors.

6 6 I fear the crazy radicals. (Sojourners Magazine, Peace Be Upon Them, Se/Oc 2011, p. 20). Having close ties with the Mosque has allowed the church members to make friends with Muslims and get over their fears. Some critics in the community say that these two congregations are blending Islam and Christianity. The leaders of both congregations disagree. The pastor said: We are in the do the right thing business. If you can t do the right thing, you are in the wrong church. (Ibid.) This is a statement we can affirm with a broadened view enhanced by the message in Matthew today. The Crown Prince of Norway made an address to the people of his country after another act of terrorism, this one largely influenced by Christian extremism. You remember the bombing in Oslo and the shootings at a summer camp back in July. Listen to the Crown Princes words: "Tonight the streets are filled with love. We have chosen to defy brutality with fellowship. We have chosen to counter hatred with solidarity. We have chosen to make it plain what we stand for. Norway is a nation in mourning. Our thoughts go to all those who have suffered loss, who are grieving. To all who have worked so heroically to save lives and re-establish our security. And to our leaders, who have been put to the test these past days. The acts of terror may have targeted the people on Utøya and in the government buildings, but they have affected us all. With terrible clarity they have shown us how enormous the consequences of one person s actions can be.

7 7 And at the same time they demonstrate that each individual s attitudes count, that it matters what we choose to base our lives on. And how we choose to use this to benefit each other and the society in which we live. After July 22nd we can never again allow ourselves to think that our opinions and beliefs don t matter. We must go into every day ready to do battle for the free and open society which we hold so dear. To our young people: You are our corrective, our courage and our hope. It is you who will shape and determine Norway s course in years to come. We have none of you to spare. Yet we have lost so many. No one can take from us the Norway that we want. Tonight the streets are filled with love. We have a choice to make. We cannot undo what has been done. But we can choose what we let it do to us, as a society and as individuals. We can decide that no one should stand alone. We can choose to stand together. It is up to each of us now. It is up to you and it is up to me. We have a job to do together. It is a job we have to do around the dinner table, in lunchrooms, in our clubs and organizations, a job for all men and women, in all our cities, villages and towns. We want a Norway: Where we can live together as a community at liberty to think freely and express our views. Where differences are perceived as potential.. Where freedom is stronger than fear. Tonight the streets are filled with love." This is the address of a leader whose view of the world is broadened by the gift of forgiveness. Let it be a gift that we strive to receive in the changing years after 9/11. Amen.