On September 11, 2001, the north and south towers were attacked by terrorists flying two fully loaded jet planes into the skyscrapers.
The world would never be the same again. Out of a clear sky came unthinkable destruction of the innocent.
People chose death by leaping from the buildings, casting themselves from windows above the flames. In the agonised faces of helpless witnesses in the streets below, we see the face of Jesus, confronting evil on the Cross. Like him we cry, “My God, why have you abandoned me?” It is the question that suffering confronts us with – “God, where are you in this?”
Numbered among the thousands whose lives were taken that day were 343 firefighters, and 23 police.
As those on the floors below the point of impact and subsequent fire were escaping down by the stairs, these rescuers were going up to save those trapped. They, and so many others, were killed when the buildings collapsed.
One observer later reflected, “On one hand we have people who hate so much that they are willing to die themselves, to kill others; and on the other, people whose loving care makes them willing to die themselves, to save others. Greater love there cannot be…”
Eventually, night fell on that terrible day. Hospital emergency departments had activated their disaster plans, but it soon became apparent that there would be no more survivors of such destruction.
The dreadful task began of searching for bodies amongst rubble and ash, piled eight storeys high.
Slabs of the steel framework of the buildings, looking like welded crosses, were silhouetted in the hastily rigged lighting.
Out of the darkness stepped volunteer steelworkers and ironcutters, some of whom had worked on the buildings’ construction. “You’ll need our expertise,” they said, and began to help the searchers.
It took eight months and 19 days to clean up Ground Zero, a monumental achievement given the difficulty and danger of the site, and the toxicity of the waste.
Not one worker was lost.
Whenever a body was found, it was placed on a stretcher and covered with a blanket. Work stopped, and workers stood by in silent salute as the remains were taken off the site.
Elsewhere, already the United States and its allies were declaring a War on Terror to be fought on the soil of Iraq and Afghanistan.
It would see hundreds of thousands more lives lost before the tide of rage receded, and we began the withdrawal from the whole sickening mess.
But at Ground Zero the hateful wrong that had been done to innocence was addressed by respect, patience and reverence and, above all, by that courage which is grace under pressure.
Ronald Rolheiser remarks, “Sometimes darkness has its hour and there is nothing we can do to stop it… like Mary under the Cross, we are asked to stand … knowing that we can’t stop the crucifixion, but we can help stop some of the hatred, anger and bitterness that surround it.”
This is what it means to be an Easter people.
It is to look at the darkness and know that the light, which is our Risen Lord, shows us the way through, and will never fail us, no matter how things seem.
It is to see his face in those who suffer and those who stand with them. It is to choose Christ’s way of love. It is to refuse to buy into unforgiveness, but instead, to begin the painstaking, loving work of clearing the rubble caused by violence, jealousy, bitterness and sin.
It is to celebrate Jesus’ call to follow him and to be humble workers in his vineyard, knowing that what we do, no matter how large or small, matters in a scheme far greater than we can imagine.
Let us pray this Easter Season for the peace of Our Lord Jesus Christ and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit to be with us; and for the grace to discern God’s traces in the shadowed world he loves.
