Episcopal Presiding Bishop at NYC Cathedral on September 11

["Neva Rae Fox Episcopal Church Public Affairs" <publicaffairs@episcopalchurch.org>]

Media Release  The Episcopal Church

Office of Public Affairs

Episcopal Presiding Bishop at NYC Cathedral on September 11

Episcopal Presiding Bishop at NYC Cathedral on September 11:

How will you share in the world's healing this year,

and ten years from today?



[September 11, 2011] On the 10th Anniversary of the September 11
attacks, Episcopal Church Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts
Schori asks:  How will you share in the world's healing this
year, and ten years from today?

The following is the text of the Presiding Bishop's sermon at the
11 am service held at the Cathedral Church of St John The Divine
:

____________________________________

St. John the Divine, New York, City

11 Sept 2011

What's it like to be attacked?  And what governs our response?
How do we heal and find our way forward?

I wasn't here ten years ago, but I do have a sense of how
confusing and crazy-making a sudden physical attack can be.  I
was out for my morning run once when a guy who had been sitting
on a bench a couple of seconds earlier ran across my path and
grabbed me.  I was startled and upset, but I couldn't figure out
what he was after.  Was he trying to throw me over the rail into
the river, or throw me down on the ground?  He never said a word
.  I did – I yelled and I kept on yelling, all of a sudden I
discovered that I had him in a headlock, and then I remembered
that applying my foot in a sensitive place might encourage him
to let go.  I applied my foot once, pretty gently, without any
result.  We kept struggling and I tried again.  Then he did let
go, and we both ran off.

It was pretty clear to me that he was mentally ill.  Maybe I had
intruded on his space, or perhaps he thought I was somebody else
.  Clearly I was a significant threat.  But after I got a few
feet farther, my biggest worry was about him and his evident
illness.  What must it be like to live with such terror?

How do we get beyond the small and large threats in life?  In
recent days much of our conversation in this city and much of
the media reporting have been filled with stories of how people
have responded to the violence here ten years ago.  Many of
those stories have been filled with hope, as people have made
some sense out of their experience of September 11th, and found
the strength to reinvest in life.

Those planes literally came out of the blue – the blue of a
beautiful morning sky.  They brought death to thousands, terror
to many more, loss and devastation to a city and a nation.  That
violence was the result of rage at the society around us, and it
was calculated to inflict enormous damage.  The results have
been both tragic and hopeful.  It's not entirely clear just what
the perpetrators wanted – they got immediate death and
destruction, yet this nation and the world responded with an
enormous outpouring of care and concern.  It was quickly
followed by many calls for retribution and vengeance.  Yet even
in the midst of that knee-jerk urge toward retaliation and
violence, others sought understanding, reached out to the people
who would be most vulnerable, and urged a peaceful and healing
response.

What has our decade of grieving wrought?  Have we found a new
meaning in life?  Have we found some reasonable measure of
healing?  Have we made sense of that violence?  Have we found a
way to forgive those who instigated the death and terror?

That last one is the hardest question, and there is more than a
little irony that the readings we've heard this morning weren't
chosen specifically for today – they're scheduled every three
years on the Sunday closest to this one.  We will continue to
hear their calls to forgiveness.

Joseph says to his brothers, who tried to kill him and then sold
him into slavery, "well, you meant to do evil, but God turned it
to good.  I forgave you a long time ago, and I will help you in
your hour of need."

The psalmist responds, "God is full of compassion and mercy, slow
to anger and of great kindness."

Paul's words to the people in Rome are haunting in our context,
"who are you to pass judgment on the servants of another?  God
will judge them. God will hold them accountable."

And Peter asks Jesus how many times he's supposed to forgive
people who offend him.  Jesus responds by saying, if you're
counting you haven't gone far enough.  And then he tells of a
man's refusal to forgive a tiny debt, even though he has himself
experienced enormous forgiveness, and how that only leads to his
own destruction.

What do we do with all of that?  I don't believe that any of us
would be here this morning if we didn't ultimately believe that
forgiveness is possible, and that we are all in search of
healing.  How do we let go of the desire for vengeance and let
God deal with the work of judgment?  How might we, like Joseph,
even if we've been terrorized, come to the aid of brothers and
sisters in time of need?

Maybe the most important part is where we locate ourselves in the
story.  As long as this act of violence is all about me and the
hurt and damage I've suffered, it's really hard to let go of a
desire for payback.  As I reflected on my morning wrestling
match, I realized that in the heat of the moment I had no desire
to hurt the guy.  I didn't want to kick him too hard, I just
wanted him to let go.  We can decide how to respond.

Where and how do we locate the attacker in the story?  Were the
hijackers personally after each human being who died?  Did they
intend to hurt and destroy this person's family or that first
responder?  If we see that violence as an attack on western
society, was it really only about the United States?  Or was
this lashing out, premeditated though it was, a response to
changes in the world that have extinguished hopes or privilege
in other communities?  Those intrusive airport searches we live
with are the same kind of unsought social change.  Our current
economic situation shares some of the same roots and character.

Forgiveness begins in discovering some element of common humanity
with your attacker, even if it is simply a search for
understanding – whether it's rational or irrational.  But
forgiveness doesn't end there.  The very act of violence that
first connects perpetrator and victim binds them together.
Joseph was his father's favorite, and his brothers took it out
on him by trying to destroy him.  That didn't break the bonds
between them, it actually bound them more closely together – the
brothers' secret vengeance produced a kind of chain gang.  At
the same time, their act destroyed a good part of the healthy
bond they had with their father.  Joseph's forgiveness set them
free in a way that they could not accomplish themselves.

What do we choose?  What kind of bonds have we taken on in the
last ten years in this city, or as Americans responding to
attempts to terrorize us?  Are we choosing prison chains or
bonds of understanding?  Healing emerges from seeking to repair
some of the damage from the violence and the quest for
retribution.  Health is growing in interfaith dialogue, in spite
of the vitriol poured on Abdel Rauf and Daisy Khan.  Some may
have meant it for evil, but God is working good nevertheless.

We have to tell the stories, including the ugly ones.  Real
change began in the civil rights movement when the gratuitous
violence perpetrated on non-violent marchers began to appear on
television.  America began to be appalled and embarrassed.  This
nation began to recognize that human beings were treating other
human beings in inhuman ways.  We began to see how we are bound
together.

We can choose how we are bound – by chains of hate, fear, and
terror, or through the life-giving possibilities of love,
forgiveness, and solidarity.  We are a nation built on tenets of
life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  There's nothing in
that declaration about hate and fear, except its end and absence
.  Like Joseph and his brothers, the central figures in this
story are descendants of Abraham.  We all proclaim a god of love
, forgiveness, and peace.  Jews, Christians, and Muslims share
God's vision for a healed world where all live together in peace
, shalom, salaam.  That is the meaning of life and the goal of
existence.  Our own lives and decisions change as that dream
begins to center and shape our lives.

What will you choose in your next experience of affront or attack
?  How will you share in the world's healing this year, and ten
years from today?  What kind of bond do you choose?

The Most Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori

Presiding Bishop and Primate

The Episcopal Church

_______________________________________

On the web:

Episcopal Presiding Bishop at NYC Cathedral on September 11: How
will you share in the world's healing this year, and ten years
from today?

[http://www.episcopalchurch.org/newsline_129728_ENG_HTM.htm]

The Episcopal Church:  [http://www.episcopalchurch.org]

Facebook:  [http://www.facebook.com/episcopalian]

Twitter: twitter.com/iamepiscopalian

YouTube:  [http://www.youtube.com/TECtube]

# # # #

For more info contact:

Neva Rae Fox

Public Affairs Officer

The Episcopal Church

publicaffairs@episcopalchurch.org

212-716-6080  Mobile: 917-478-5659

Click here to unsubscribe 
http://publicaffairs.cmail3.com/t/r/u/tiwzk/xllkrjjg/j/