All in a week's work
Archbishop Desmond Tutu once said “I must forgive so that the desire for revenge does not corrode my being.”
This past week marked the five-year anniversary of 9/11. The burden of grief that I’m sure thousands felt this week must be pretty overwhelming still, even as time creeps on by.
At the beginning of the week, as the media marinated in flashbacks to that Tuesday morning, it occurred to me that for every person with a first-hand account of the tragedy, there are likely an equal number of people with tales of redemption in the time that has lapsed since the attacks.
My favorite story comes from a friend and former colleague, who visited Ground Zero in the aftermath of the attacks. While there, she planted corn seeds in the ashes – corn seeds given to her by survivors of the El Mozote massacre in El Salvador. A year later, she returned and found an eight-foot high corn plant growing in the middle of Manhattan.
The symbolism of a seed, given by survivors of one war, growing in the middle of what has become a location synonymous with terrorism, is something I can’t help but be moved by. Life amidst death. Hope amidst despair. It’s become the one thing I make sure to remember on 9/11, since for the rest of my life I know that every year we’ll be inundated with the flashback footage from that day, and reminded of the numerous wars (Afghanistan, Iraq, and mostly likely more to come) that wreak havoc in 9/11’s name.
Seems like no matter what side of the political aisle you fall on, this week marks a period where it’s really easy to fall into a mode of hate. Some hate those that orchestrated 9/11, and either because they’ve bought the President’s pitch or because they just don’t know any better, they hate the rest of the Muslim world, and anyone who might register a peep of a complaint over the idea of preemptive warfare.
Others hate what President Bush has done in the name of security, and by default hate him, his administration, and his supporters. I know I fall into this camp sometimes, and it’s hard not to when those running this country champion everything from torture to illegal wiretapping. But at the end of the day, I can say I believe in peace all I want…if my peace is fueled by anger, is it really peace at all? Or is it just corrosive, like Bishop Tutu says?
Maybe Thomas Merton has it right. Merton was a Trappist monk and contemplative who wrote more than 50 books, and was influenced heavily by both Christian and eastern religions. Merton’s guidance for activists:
I wonder how many anniversaries will have to pass before 9/11 becomes what it really should – a day to remember those who died, and to cry out against the roots of war that take seed in the hearts of people – instead of a day to pay false homage to those who died, while using their suffering to feed the appetite for permanent war.
This past week marked the five-year anniversary of 9/11. The burden of grief that I’m sure thousands felt this week must be pretty overwhelming still, even as time creeps on by.
At the beginning of the week, as the media marinated in flashbacks to that Tuesday morning, it occurred to me that for every person with a first-hand account of the tragedy, there are likely an equal number of people with tales of redemption in the time that has lapsed since the attacks.
My favorite story comes from a friend and former colleague, who visited Ground Zero in the aftermath of the attacks. While there, she planted corn seeds in the ashes – corn seeds given to her by survivors of the El Mozote massacre in El Salvador. A year later, she returned and found an eight-foot high corn plant growing in the middle of Manhattan.
The symbolism of a seed, given by survivors of one war, growing in the middle of what has become a location synonymous with terrorism, is something I can’t help but be moved by. Life amidst death. Hope amidst despair. It’s become the one thing I make sure to remember on 9/11, since for the rest of my life I know that every year we’ll be inundated with the flashback footage from that day, and reminded of the numerous wars (Afghanistan, Iraq, and mostly likely more to come) that wreak havoc in 9/11’s name.
Seems like no matter what side of the political aisle you fall on, this week marks a period where it’s really easy to fall into a mode of hate. Some hate those that orchestrated 9/11, and either because they’ve bought the President’s pitch or because they just don’t know any better, they hate the rest of the Muslim world, and anyone who might register a peep of a complaint over the idea of preemptive warfare.
Others hate what President Bush has done in the name of security, and by default hate him, his administration, and his supporters. I know I fall into this camp sometimes, and it’s hard not to when those running this country champion everything from torture to illegal wiretapping. But at the end of the day, I can say I believe in peace all I want…if my peace is fueled by anger, is it really peace at all? Or is it just corrosive, like Bishop Tutu says?
Maybe Thomas Merton has it right. Merton was a Trappist monk and contemplative who wrote more than 50 books, and was influenced heavily by both Christian and eastern religions. Merton’s guidance for activists:
“Instead of loving what you think is peace, love other men and women and love God above all. Instead of hating the people you think are warmakers, hate the appetites and disorder in your own soul, which are the causes of war.”
I wonder how many anniversaries will have to pass before 9/11 becomes what it really should – a day to remember those who died, and to cry out against the roots of war that take seed in the hearts of people – instead of a day to pay false homage to those who died, while using their suffering to feed the appetite for permanent war.
posted by MikeJ at
11:25 PM
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