wfn.org | Episcopalians: Sermon preached at Trinity Wall Street, New YorkFirst anniversary of Septembe

[dmack@episcopalchurch.org]

September 11, 2002

2002-207

Episcopalians: Sermon preached at Trinity Wall Street, New 
YorkFirst anniversary of September 11

Archbishop of Canterbury George L. Carey

At this hour exactly one year ago, the part of lower Manhattan 
in which we are gathered was in the grip of a waking nightmare. 
The scale of the human tragedy of September the eleventh 2001 
was not, could not, be clear. But the extent of the physical 
devastation in New York was certainly becoming evident, despite 
the choking pall of smoke and dust that obscured most things. By 
this time both of the twin towers - just a few hundred yards 
away - had collapsed, and in their place Ground Zero was coming 
eerily into existence.

For those of you here today who were in the area during those 
dreadful hours, this anniversary period will inevitably have 
brought back some of the pain, anguish and confusion of a year 
ago. For those who lost loved ones, not only in the World Trade 
Center but also those killed in the Pentagon and the passengers, 
pilots and crew of the four aircraft, the feelings will be all 
the more intense and distressing. We now remember and honor 
again the dead and departed, who came from many nations 
including my own.

We also have to acknowledge that for many of the living, the 
sense of vulnerability that September the eleventh brought last 
year has never quite faded; the sense that bearings as well as 
buildings had been ripped away. That, for many, remains a 
lasting legacy, a legacy that the veneer of revived habit and 
routine may submerge though not erase.

But it is not the only legacy. For we also recall with 
humility and gratitude the many acts of heroism - individual and 
collective - that helped to save lives and provide comfort and 
support to those in need and distress.	It is fitting that among 
us now are some of the fire fighters, medics, and members of 
emergency services who worked so selflessly. It is fitting also 
that we honor the work of this Church and of its Rector, Dan 
Matthews, and his many colleagues. And we give thanks especially 
for the vision and compassion that turned your sister Chapel of 
St Paul's, on the edge of Ground Zero, into an emergency center, 
a spiritual haven, and more recently a place of pilgrimage.

On September the eleventh, as well as intense vulnerability 
we also witnessed great solidarity. A solidarity that those of 
us, who looked on from afar, helpless and appalled, sought as 
best we could to share and to enlarge. I recall very vividly the 
service of remembrance with the American community in the United 
Kingdom that was held in St Paul's Cathedral just three days 
after the tragedy: a service attended by Her Majesty the Queen 
and the British Prime Minister and one at which I had the 
privilege to speak. I can assure you, you were not alone in your 
suffering then, just as you are not alone in commemoration now.

And on this anniversary we seek to sustain that sense of 
solidarity, both in this special service and in the presentation 
and the dedication of a new bell - a gift from the Lord Mayor 
and the City of London to the City and people of New York. It 
comes from the foundry in the East End of London where the 
original Liberty Bell was cast more than two and a half 
centuries ago. It  will stand in the churchyard as an enduring 
memorial and an expression of the ties between cities, nations 
and peoples.

But an anniversary need not, should not, be a time only to 
remember and to honor those who have gone before us, important 
though such commitments are. It also offers us an opportunity to 
look to the future, to take new bearings and to seek the kind of 
tenacious hope for the future about which the passage from 
Lamentations speaks so powerfully. We too can say with that 
book, which was written in a time of national calamity and 
distress, that 'the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his 
mercies never come to an end'. That is the basis of Christian 
hope - not a bland optimism but rather hope that flows from 
faith.

It is fitting then that the Lord Mayor has christened this 
bell 'The Bell of Hope'. It is a good name, but how should that 
hope, that sense of aspiration and possibility, now be expressed 
in the face of all that confronts the human family?

Reflecting on that question, and on what more this bell might 
symbolize, I was reminded of those extraordinary, resonant lines 
of the great seventeenth century poet and priest, John Donne, 
who was, coincidentally, Dean of St Paul's Cathedral in London. 
Words that draw powerfully on the image of a tolling church 
bell:

'No man is an island entire of itself', he wrote, 'every man 
is a piece of the continent, part of the main; any man's death 
diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore 
never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.'

What a remarkable challenge to our shared humanity those 
words remain today, getting on for four hundred years later. And 
how powerfully they connect, I believe, with two of the ideas we 
have already touched upon - vulnerability and solidarity. 'Any 
man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind'. We 
are vulnerable because we are all connected, Donne is telling 
us.

The interconnectedness of our modern world is, in a 
superficial sense, something of a commonplace. It's simply part 
of what we commonly understand by globalization. Well, it is 
certainly much easier to make links - hyper links, air links, 
road links - between people and places than it was in the past.

But Donne is talking about something more; not simply our 
interconnectedness but also our interdependence: the 
interdependence of the whole human family - every one of us made 
in the image of God, made to reflect God's glory. Because, as 
the Good Samaritan in our New Testament reading recognized so 
completely, like it or not, we are involved in one another, 
caught up in one another's sufferings and joys, triumphs and 
tribulations. And this is as true of nations as it is of 
individuals; we belong together and we can only truly flourish 
when we are living in the light of that truth.

Now, it's perhaps when we feel most vulnerable that we may 
find it the hardest to embrace this challenge of 
interdependence. At times when we want above all to feel safe 
and secure, there is often a dangerous temptation to draw back 
rather than engage, to cut ourselves off, to retreat behind 
walls that we may wish to believe are impregnable.

Or, equally at such times we may be tempted to seek to 
over-ride others, to lash out in revenge and frustration, and 
that urge may be especially strong when we believe we have not 
only right but also might on our side. When we not only have the 
motive but we also have the means. But surely the test of true 
greatness for peoples and nations must be that they are 
motivated by what should be done not by what could be done?

Now let's be very clear about it--the fight against terrorism 
must continue, because what happened on September the eleventh 
last year was an act of evil and of profound wickedness. Nothing 
has changed or will change that fact. Nothing can excuse it. 
Evil and the threat of evil are constantly with us. That is a 
fundamental part of our Christian understanding, and as 
Christians we are called to combat and to resist it, to do all 
we can to help the light prevail over the darkness.

How we seek to do that at any time is at the heart of the 
moral choices that we continually face and make as human beings. 
And the United States, with its immense potential to make a 
difference in the world, faces the daunting challenge of 
wielding power and influence with others in ways that do justice 
to the vision of our shared humanity and fate as expressed by 
John Donne. In ways which do not undermine the interdependence 
on which our welfare hangs. As they face this great challenge, 
the leaders of this nation deserve our fervent and sincere 
prayers.

But that challenge is certainly not alien to the spirit or 
understanding of your founding fathers. For it's on a Christian 
understanding of the equality and dignity of all human beings, 
of both the potential and the limits of human power, that 
America has grown up over the centuries and continues to 
proclaim today 'In God we trust'. That trust, and the moral 
tradition which has flowed from it, are both the beginning and 
the best of America.

That is the basis on which to believe that on September the 
eleventh in years to come, we shall be able both to remember the 
past and to affirm the present. To believe that, by the grace of 
God Almighty, the hope that has risen so courageously from the 
ashes of twelve months ago will have strengthened our commitment 
to make this vulnerable world a place of true and lasting 
security - a place where God's goodness and bounty are shared by 
everyone.

That is the bell of hope we ring today!

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