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9/11/02
Sermon: God at Work©
by The Rev. David W. Miller
Riviera Presbyterian Church, Miami, FL
(An Interfaith Commemorative Service)
Psalm
74: 1-11
Genesis 50: 17-21
Romans 8: 18, 28, 38
“9/11”
“9/11.” The event most Americans now call
simply " 9/11" has an eerie parallel. There
was, in a manner of speaking, another horrific 9/11 some
sixty-three years ago, back in 1938.
As
many of you know, Europeans list dates in “day/month/year”
format, whereas Americans list dates in “month/day/year”
format. Thus, 9/11 means September 11th for Americans,
whereas using the European format, 9/11 means November
9th. Lutheran pastor, resistance fighter, and eventual
martyr, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote the date 9/11/38 in
his personal Bible, as an annotation next to Psalm 74.
This psalm is one of despair, anger, and hope after
Israel’s enemies laid waste to the Temple some
2,500 years ago. To the Psalmist, God seemed absent,
almost powerless. Amid the horror, they felt lost. But
they remembered God’s faithfulness; and they managed
to hold onto their faith.
These
feelings of despair, anger, and hope were echoed and
experienced again by the Jews of Germany on “9/11”
(November 9th) 1938. This “9/11” is forever
engraved in history as a dark night for Germany. What
happened on 9/11/38 that compelled Dietrich Bonhoeffer
to link the events of that day with the events of the
destruction of the Temple in Psalm 74? This 9/11 is
known as Kristallnacht or “Crystal Night,”
so named because of the looting and shattering of thousands
of glass windows in Jewish storefronts, synagogues,
and homes throughout Germany. The broken glass, shimmering
amid fire and violence, looked like crystal.
As
we all know, on 9/11 2001, America and the world watched
as 110 stories of windows - shiny glass windows - of
the two World Trade Center towers were shattered by
a fundamentalist inspired act of violence against thousands
of innocent people. Lives and glass were also shattered
in Washington, Shanksville, and around the world.
I
suspect you would not be here today in this house of
worship, if you were not yourself somehow shattered
by the events of 9/11. You are not alone. As people
of the Book, you and I are linked to the destruction
of the Temple in Psalm 74, we are linked to Dietrich
Bonhoeffer and Kristallnacht of 9/11 1938,
and we are linked to this shattered piece of glass from
the North Tower that fell on 9/11 2001 [hold up glass
piece].
And
with the ancient Jews, the Germans of 9/11/38, and all
of us here today – regardless of your faith tradition
– we feel despair and anger. Amid these tragedies,
many of us ask: Where was God? Where is
God, today? As people of faith, gathered here tonight,
I propose that we rely on the answer of the answer of
the Psalmist, and the promise of Jesus… God is
at Work. Yes, God is at Work.
God at Work: St. Paul’s
Chapel, New York City
As many of you may know, for some eight months, I was
privileged to serve as a night shift chaplain at Ground
Zero, working through St. Paul’s Chapel. How did
I get involved? At the time we lived in Princeton, NJ
and I could take the train up to NYC fairly easily.
I confess, however, I had not planned to do this ministry.
I am not trained in grief, trauma, crisis, suicide,
or emergency medical counseling. It all started innocently,
at my wife Karen’s urging, as I volunteered for
just one 12-hour day shift. It turns out there was a
need for more chaplains, particularly during the night
shift on weekends, so before I knew it, I found myself
going up most Friday or Saturday nights (from 10PM to
8 AM) from late October through the completion of the
recovery work in early June. I discovered it was a place
of Hell, and a place of Heaven; a place of evil, a place
of good; a place of anger, a place of venting; a place
of hurt, and a place of healing. It was a place of actual
and metaphorical seasons – from autumn, to winter,
to spring… from the collapse of the Twin Towers,
at first called the Rock, then The Pile, then the Pit,
and now, to a memorial and a new construction.
Based
out of St. Paul’s Chapel, I served as a chaplain
to the rescue and recovery workers, construction workers,
police, fire department, sanitation department workers,
National Guard, victim’s family members, and even
the volunteers. Though I am a Christian, a Protestant,
I worked with people of all faith traditions, and with
those who had no faith, or who had lost their faith.
St.
Paul’s Chapel, as you may know, is right on the
edge of Ground Zero. St. Paul's is a place of many miracles.
Built in 1766, it's the oldest public building in continuous
use on the island of Manhattan, the only remaining colonial
church, and the place where George Washington worshiped
on his inauguration day in 1789. A special booth and
plaque mark the spot. While most of the neighboring
modern buildings in and around the “red zone”
were devastated or at least severely damaged on 9/11
by the explosions and flying debris, miraculously, not
a single pane of glass was broken at St. Paul's. Some
came to call it “The Little Chapel that Stood.”
By
noon of 9/11, this house of worship was transformed
into a house of healing, serving the emergency crews
who labored 24/7 on the site, providing nourishment
for the body and soul. Volunteer chaplains, podiatrists,
and chiropractors, massage therapists, and food providers
all came to serve the rescue and recovery workers. Closed
to the public and the press, at its peak, St. Paul’s
served over 3,000 emergency workers in a single day.
It became a place of help, healing, and hope. God was
at Work in that building.
Prior
to 9/11, St. Paul’s chapel was an austere, formal,
and largely empty church, relegated to be an architectural
and historical landmark. After 9/11, if you walked into
St. Paul’s, you would think you had walked into
a grade school classroom. The sanctuary was now completely
covered with greetings, cards, paintings, posters, banners,
and prayer slips from all over the nation, and, yes,
the world. “We’re praying for you –
love, Oklahoma City,” read one of the banners
hanging from the balcony. The pews – just like
where you are sitting today – were plastered with
thousands of children’s letters, cards, drawings,
prayers, and poems. One woman from a church in Massachusetts
asked me to put a deck of prayer cards, all handwritten
by her congregation, inside. I felt as if I were placing
prayer slips into the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.
George
Washington’s booth gave way to the podiatrist’s
office; the narthex become the food serving area; the
baby grand piano became the table for replacement socks,
sweatshirts, and skincare products; one side of the church
aisles now had chiropractor and massage tables; the other
side was filled with cots for firemen and police to steal
a few moments sleep; half of the balcony was the staging
ground for freshly donated supplies, while the other half
housed more cots and mattresses. Lovingly, volunteers
placed teddy bears, letters from children, and Hershey
chocolate kisses on the pillow.
Outside
St. Paul’s, the chapel had come to resemble something
of a shrine. After the street in front of St. Paul’s
(Broadway) was re-opened to the public, people from
all around the world flocked to the gates of St. Paul’s
to pay their respects, to stop for a prayer, to leave
flowers, colorful Origami-folded paper cranes, feathered
“dream catchers,” stuffed animals, light
candles, donate money, write Bible verses, and leave
other personal mementos… anything to symbolize
their solidarity, sadness, and even anger. In the early
days, there were flyers saying, “Have you seen
____?” In the later days, the flyers read, “Please
pray for ____.” Not a thing was disturbed or stolen
all the months I was there.
We
also hung large 16’ by 20’ canvas banners
on the front fence of St. Paul’s for people to
write their thoughts. Within a few short hours, each
canvas was filled with thousands of tiny scrawled messages
in dozens of languages. Some writings were defiant:
“Build it again – one story higher!”
Others, brought perspective - in German, one said, “I
feel sorry for the loss of innocent lives here, but
do not forget what happened in Dresden.” Some
were angry, “God, please get them with the same
fury you have shown in the past.” Some were tragic,
“My Darling daughter Diana, I miss you very much.
My heart is broken. I have no more tears.”
God
at Work: In the Pain
It can be very hard to see God at Work in such pain. But
even in the anger and despair of 9/11, I clearly saw God
at Work in the pain. Where? In seeing the steam and smoke
rise for weeks from the still smoldering fires of carnage,
burning debris and humanity, piled 10 stories high. In
the smell; the stench of dust and death; like burning
clay, that filled my clothes, my nostrils, and my memory.
In the constant sounds of crashing steel, blowtorches,
and construction machinery. Or, in the stories... For
instance, in the time one firefighter told me the story
of the retired fireman, who was called in after the body
of his son, also a fireman, was found. The father was
led to the site, bent over, and gently picked up and cradled
his son’s now decomposing corpse with all the love
of a parent holding a newborn son. Where else did I see
God so clearly at work in our pain? In the middle of the
night trying to comfort the inconsolable wife of one victim
as she shouted out into the dark of the Pit – “You
weren’t supposed to be there! Come back John! I
need you! Come home!” In the silent pain of the
well-dressed, executive, standing alone at 3AM, jacket
open in the freezing winter night, staring into the abyss,
into the carnage, mourning. His silent vigil was punctuated
only by the quiet tears running down his cheeks, and the
falling ashes of his lit but untouched cigar. Yes, God
at work, even in our pain.
God
at Work: Healing and Hope
I also saw God at Work in immanent, human ways through
the countless gestures of love, compassion, and sacrifice
by those who lived, worked, and served at Ground Zero.
I saw God at Work, bringing healing and hope as a balm
to the pain. How?
It
was the one child’s card, taped to the base of
the pulpit that read: “Dear Firefighters and Rescue
Workers – I think what you guys are doing that
makes you real heroes. You’ve helped the United
States. Without you, we’d all be stuck in rubble
and debris. I thank you guys very much. Though you couldn’t
save my Aunt and Uncle, you have saved many other lives.
Sincerely, Ryan.” God at Work.
It
was the first time I saw “The Cross”…
On September 13th construction workers found two massive
steel I-Beams in the rubble, bent and twisted by the heat,
but still intact, perfectly proportioned and in the unmistakable
shape of the cross. As a Christian, I understand the cross
as a sign of pain being transformed into hope, the pain
that Jesus bore on our behalf, and of God’s victory
over death. The workers hoisted the steel cross as if
to stand guard over the rescue and recovery effort, the
construction workers, and to stand over the morgue and
honor the dead. God at Work.
It
was the once innocent, now-emotionally scarred 18-year-old
National Guard soldier who had walled in her personal
pain during months of working amid the sights of Hell
and smell of death. Now, no longer able to cope, she
felt her personal world was crashing down, just as the
Twin Towers had crashed down. She wanted to commit suicide.
Yet, the presence of a scared chaplain, some loving
cards from children in the pews, and the action of the
Spirit of God somehow broke through her wall of pain,
which led to tears, prayers, and eventually healing.
God at Work.
It
was the experience that an African American police officer
shared with me at 3AM one cold December morning, how
his faith was the only thing that gave him hope and
not a desire for revenge. He spoke of reduced levels
of tension between civilians and police, of reduced
ethnic and racial tension, and of new chances for trust
and hope. God at Work.
It
was the EMT (emergency medical technician) in the make
shift morgue at GZ, carefully and respectfully, emptying
body parts out of an orange plastic sack onto the cold
metal examining table. Amid the daily death he faced,
he somehow carried a smile and even a beanie-baby toy
dangling from the back of his Fire helmet showing his
humor and humanity. God at Work.
It
was the last time I was in the Pit, on June 1st. Though
a few days after the formal closing ceremony, firefighters
were still sifting some corners of the underground basement
floors and adjacent buildings for human remains. While
I was there, a small bone fragment was found by a fireman,
bringing a small measure of closure to another family.
Shortly thereafter, the battalion chief stopped suddenly,
picking up a heavy, mud-caked object. Thinking he had
found a femur, we all gathered round respectfully. As
he gently rinsed it off with water, we realized it was
a statuette, not a human bone. As he washed it further
we saw a figurine of a plaster angel emerge, almost completely
intact, reading the Bible… the Bible was open to
the Lord’s Prayer… The battalion chief said,
Pastor David, here, I think this was meant for you…
take this as a reminder of God’s presence to show
and share with others [hold up]. God at Work.
Let
me share one last experience. One Saturday night, about
5AM, I went into the sacristy of St. Paul’s to
sit by myself for a moment and catch my breath. It had
been a particularly busy night and I was exhausted.
My eyes glanced to the floor where I saw a role of yellow
police barrier tape. Ground Zero being a crime site,
these yellow barrier tapes were all over, but in the
sacristy, well, that was curious. I bent over to pick
it up, expecting to see the usual black block print
words “POLICE – DO NOT CROSS” emblazoned
on it. Yet, to my surprise, something very different
was printed on it. It read: “GOD AT WORK.”
[hold up strip] “GOD AT WORK.” That’s
right, I thought, God is At Work, present in our anger,
despair, and hope, here in Ground Zero, at the destruction
of the Temple, and on Crystal Night. God is At Work.
This
side of heaven we will never know all of God’s
means and methods, or understand why illness and accident
strike some but not others, or how people can be brought
to do such evil deeds. But we can take some comfort
in knowing that God is with us. Emanuel. God with us.
Whether
in our greatest joy or in our deepest pain and suffering,
let us take comfort and encouragement from knowing that
you cannot cordon God out. There is no place, no barrier
that God cannot cross. There is no sin God cannot forgive,
no shame God cannot heal, no guilt God cannot erase, no
dark secret that God cannot penetrate, no addiction God
cannot conquer, and no barrier God cannot bridge. God
is at Work, forming and transforming every situation,
every 9/11, toward God’s purposes
and ends. God is At Work. Amen.
Copyright 2002. All rights reserved. Permission
to use must be granted by the author.
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