9/11/11

The tenth anniversary of Sept. 11th fell on a Sunday, and the question that faced me was the same question that faced every pastor- how to best deal with 9/11/11 in worship. Knowing that there would be ample civic and media remembrances, I did not feel a need to dedicate the entire service to the anniversary. Instead, I decided on a beautiful prayer litany written by the National Council of Churches and a sermon that focused on how God’s call to us to continue to live the best hopes and dreams that have grown out of that day. The rest of the service would be normal, I decided.

As each of the four services unfolded with the contributions of our musicians and visual artists, it became apparent that the focus was clearly on the anniversary. We sang about our pain, God’s comfort, and our prayer for peace. The visual imagery on the screen continued these themes. We prayed, we lit candles, we cried, we even smiled. By the end of each service, I pray that we left more hopeful than when we had entered. It was much more than I had planned, and it was much better than I had planned. As is often the case.

After worship, the day settled into a blessed Sunday afternoon normalcy. Lunch out, then home for nap and a little yardwork. Since I brought home a lot of fresh heirloom tomatoes from church, I tried out a new recipe, “Moroccan-Style Tomato Soup with Chickpeas” that is simmering on the stove at home as I type. I’m not sure what I think of the blend of ginger, cinnamon, cumin, onion, and tomatoes in the soup, but I know that Andy will eat bravely whatever is put in front of him. As I said, it has been a blessedly normal Sunday afternoon.

This evening, I will teach the first session of our confirmation class. These young people know about 9/11 only from what they read in history books and glean from anniversaries such as these. As I said in worship, these young people grew up knowing that you can’t carry drinks onto airplanes, and that firefighters and police are the ones who run into buildings when everyone else is running out. These things define “normal” for them.

As far as difficult anniversaries go, this one has been good. May we remember once again what a gift a normal September 11 is, even if "normal" does not mean the same thing that it meant 10 years and a day ago.

The Phone Call

I was meeting with a couple about joining the church and baptizing their baby when my cell phone rang. Not just once, but it rang again a few minutes later, each time registering a fresh voicemail message. Few people beyond my family have that number, so I glanced at it. My parents’ number. “Excuse me for a moment, I need to check this message.” As I listened to the message, an unfamiliar voice began with the words that every adult child dreads hearing, “This is a nurse, calling from your parents’ apartment.”

The crisis was not as bad as was feared and has mostly passed. And there have been blessings out of last night’s phone call: wonderful understanding from the couple whose meeting with me was cut short, an unexpected day with my parents, and an increase in outside care that will help them both maintain their health.

Aging. No matter our age, we are all doing it. Every age and stage brings its own challenges, its own aches and pains, its own joys. Sometimes the pains we bear are our own, sometimes they are the pains of those we love. Sometimes we are the ones who serve, sometimes we are the ones who are served. Often, it seems, we are all of those things at once.