There are days that change our lives: the day we are married, the day a child is born, the day a loved one dies. And there are days that change history.
“Ground Zero” refers to the site where the two tallest towers of New York City’s World Trade Center collapsed on September 11, 2001. I remember vividly my visit to this somber and sobering site some years ago.
Yesterday, President Joe Biden, former President Donald Trump, Vice President Kamala Harris, and vice presidential nominee J. D. Vance stood there together as the names of the victims were read. The gathering gave testimony to the deep pain all Americans still share on the anniversary of the worst terrorist attack in our nation’s history.
“I’m on an airplane that’s been hijacked”
The memory of that tragedy still haunts many of us. The following may be emotionally difficult to read, but Lawrence Wright does an excellent job in The Looming Tower describing what happened that morning in New York City:
The cloudless sky filled with coiling black smoke and a blizzard of paper—memos, photographs, stock transactions, insurance policies—which fluttered for miles on a gentle southeasterly breeze, across the East River into Brooklyn. Debris spewed onto the streets of lower Manhattan, which were already covered with bodies. Some of them had been exploded out of the building when the planes hit. A man walked out of the towers carrying someone else’s leg. Jumpers landed on several firemen, killing them instantly.
The air pulsed with sirens as firehouses and police stations all over the city emptied, sending the rescuers, many of them to their deaths.
A man named Brian Sweeney left this message on his wife’s answering machine:
Jules, this is Brian—listen, I’m on an airplane that’s been hijacked. If things don’t go well, and it’s not looking good, I just want you to know I absolutely love you. I want you to do good, go have good times, same to my parents and everybody, and I just totally love you, and I’ll see you when you get there. Bye, babe. I hope I call you.
The remains of roughly 40 percent of the 9/11 victims have not yet been identified. Over twenty-five thousand people were injured in the aftermath of the attacks, many suffering long-term health consequences from toxic contaminants and personal trauma.
The attacks led to wars in Afghanistan and Iraq; roughly fifteen thousand US troops and contractors were killed in post-9/11 missions. Estimates project a total combined cost of the wars exceeding $3 trillion, with interest on the debt used to finance operations reaching $6.5 trillion by 2050.
“I have forgotten what happiness is”
If you’re like me, you struggle to know what you can do to respond. You want to make a difference, to serve your nation, to change your world for the better. You want your life to matter when it is over.
However, as 9/11 proved, no one knows when that day will come.
The poet Christopher Morley claimed, “There is only one success—to be able to spend your life in your own way.” But you know in your heart that this is not true, that the truest success is to spend your life in the service of a cause greater than yourself. You agree with the late Sen. John McCain: “The richest men and women possess nothing of real value if their lives have no greater object than themselves.”
What should this “greater object” be?
The writer of Lamentations bemoans: “My soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is” (3:17). But then he remembers the answer to his despair: “This I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lᴏʀᴅ never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (vv. 21–23).
He then testifies:
“’The Lᴏʀᴅ is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him’” (v. 24).
Why should we “hope in him” today?
“Hopeful in the dark hours”
Commenting on Jesus’ parable about the tiny mustard seed that grows into a large tree (Matthew 13:31–32), pastor Paul Powell wrote:
Jesus told this little parable to suggest that there is a silent, unseen power that works in nature that makes a seed grow. You cannot see it, you cannot hear it. But that silent, unseen power begins to work in a seed to make it sprout and grow into a large plant that can produce much fruit.
Operating in the world today is the silent, unseen power of God. And when you go about your work, you must remember always that God is at work at the same time. You need to remember that there are powers in our world that cannot be seen and cannot be heard. We are so awed and impressed by the things we can see that we are apt to forget that there is a greater power that is silent and unseen. . . .
With this understanding of faith and confidence, the Christian can be an optimist even in light of today’s headlines. With this kind of faith a Christian can be hopeful in the dark hours.
Is “this kind of faith” yours today?
Thursday news to know:
*Denison Forum does not necessarily endorse the views expressed in these stories.
Quote for the day:
“Hope can see heaven through the thickest clouds.” —Thomas Brooks (1608–80)
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