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Sunday, October 7, 2001
Rev. James A. Todhunter

.Since the events of September 11^th, we have been telling each other that the world is now different. The world has changed forever. At the same time we yearn for things to get back to normal, though we are not sure what normal really is any more.

But how really is our world different? Of course, for those immediately affected by this catastrophe, the world is very different. A world infused with profound sorrow and grief, as we know first hand. But at another level, the sun rises and the sun sets. There are beautiful sunny days and dreary rainy days. And life goes on.

So what really is different now? There is terrorism in the world. But there has always been terrorism in the world. Religious fanaticism has been let loose. But it has always been so, whether it was the Ayatollah or John Brown of Harper’s Ferry notoriety. We now live in a dangerous world. But we have always lived in a dangerous world. We have learned that one’s life can radically change in the blinking of an eye. But really is that news? We have learned that each of us is totally vulnerable to destructive human and natural forces that are always waiting to be unleashed – whether terrorists or tornadoes. We are each of us, each moment of our lives, just one breath from eternity. So what really is different now?

Last Saturday I had the privilege of attending the Prayer Breakfast of the Congressional Black Caucus, at its Annual Legislative Conference, down at the D.C. Convention Center. The leadership of the Caucus had wisely decided not to cancel the Conference. And in the aftermath of September 11, several things about the Prayer Breakfast were striking to me. First of all, it was very patriotic. Many people were wearing little flags and red, white, and blue ribbons. The love of America absolutely infused the event, and this was reflected in spirited singing and speeches. If there were those critical of the United States or of President Bush’s handling of things so far, you would never have known it. The morning ended with everyone singing James Weldon Johnson’s "Lift Every Voice and Sing," which was immediately followed by a rousing version of "God Bless America." (Incidentally, this is the first time I have ever heard that Irving Berlin classic concluded with a sung "Amen.") The people in attendance loved America and made it clear in the most old fashioned of patriotic ways.

And secondly, this was deeply spiritual event. It was a prayer breakfast in deed as well as billing. By the time the featured preacher, a Bishop Trotter from Chicago, got up to speak, he made it clear that his would be only the last of a series of sermons that morning. Congressmen and congresswomen, organizers, community leaders – they all preached. In his sermon he stressed that the Bible is clear that at times in which the very foundations of our lives seem to be shaken, we need to remember that God is God. He said that people are saying that we are living in shock because terrorism has come to America’s shores for the first time. But he went on to say that black folks know differently. He said terrorism existed on America’s soil for hundreds of years. The terrorists lived in the big house of the plantation. The terrorists murdered, raped, lynched, and systematically destroyed the very fabric of the black family.

Terrorism is not new to black folks. But through it all African-Americans learned the deeper meanings of faith. You put your trust in God when you have no choice. You put your trust in God when your whole world in crashing down about you and the earth is shaking beneath you. You put your trust in God when you literally have nothing but the shirt on your back, and maybe not even that. And he said that black folks are suffering along with every American, and black folks died in these disasters. But black folks have learned through all their years of trial and pain, that God is, and God that can be trusted.

As I reflect on that Prayer Breakfast morning, I am amazed by the unashamed fusion of patriotism and religion. There was no fretting about the separation of church and state that morning. And the patriotism was coming from folks whose ancestors were not fully included among those covered by the Declaration of Independence, were not freed until the Emancipation Proclamation, couldn’t vote until the Fourteenth Amendment, wouldn’t see that right enforced until the Voting Rights Act, and wouldn’t be full partners in the American dream until the Civil Rights Act. And still the journey isn’t over.

And I thought to myself that Christians can really learn from other Christians. The Body of Christ has many members and sometimes they are very different. But still one body – the Body of Christ.

The world really isn’t any different since September 11^th. Just like before that day, the world is violent, dangerous, racked with hatred and people who can behave cruelly out of their hatred. And, just like before that day, the world is filled with beauty, love, people who care and when called on can behave with profound courage and self-sacrifice. And after, as before, September 11^th, God is God.

But what really has changed for some of us is our attitude toward the world. The world is the same. It is we who are different now. We had lived with the assumption that because of our wealth and our power and our geographical isolation, that we were somehow safe from the destructive forces of man and nature. Wrong assumption. We had lived with the assumption that because of who we believe ourselves to be, everybody in the world loved us or should. Wrong assumption. We had lived with the assumption that our actions and policies in the world don’t generate consequences that will have direct impact on us (even and including policies we might all agree are right and just). Wrong again. I think we are experiencing disillusionment in a number of ways. But who said we were ever entitled to live with our illusions? Disillusionment hurts. But it is inevitable and necessarily for the soul to grow.

On this particular World Communion Sunday, maybe we should take the opportunity to recall what this celebration is about. It is a day in which Christians the world over – irrespective of nationality or race – celebrate the Lordship of Jesus Christ and his call to discipleship. But what does it mean today to have this celebration when we are acutely aware of the vast divide between the rich and poor countries of our world? What does it mean in light of the ghastly realization that the world’s wealthiest and most powerful nation has been put through grievous suffering? Before 9/11 we may have been tempted to see World Communion Sunday as a day in which we here thank God for all the gifts of our lives, while at the same time praying for the less fortunate Christian brothers and sisters of our world. Now might it not now be a time in which we open our ears and hearts to our Christian brothers and sisters who have known for a long time which it means to suffer, to live in poverty, hungry, powerlessness, and terror? Just as white American Christians still have something to learn from the long spiritual journey of black America, perhaps American Christians can learn from the struggles of Christians all over the world.

I have been moved, as you have, by the many expressions of support and condolences Americans have received from all over the world. I was sent an eloquent letter from a pastor in our United Church of Christ partner denomination in Colombia, beautiful and heartfelt. His churches are trying hard to be peacemakers, and they are daily caught in the cross-fire between the guerrillas and the right-wing death squads. I also heard from a woman named Camilla, a friend I had made on the Caribbean Island of St. Lucia. While there I had regularly worshipped at her small, poor and struggling, Pentecostal congregation. Two years ago her island was ravaged by a terrible hurricane, which barely made the news here. She wrote this:

Greetings in the wonderful name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

I sympathize with you hearing about your tragic incident in the United States. I hope every one in your family are O.K. I would like to inform you that we in St. Lucia mourn with you all.

There are two St. Lucians who perish in the World Trade Center.

World Communion Sunday is about Christian unity and solidarity despite differences of race, class, and nationality. But we shouldn’t stop there, at the very least in spirit. The events of September 11^th have reminded us that people of faith are also Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs, Buddhists and others. We need solidarity with all people of good will from all these faiths. And we need to recognize that we have much to learn from them. Amen.

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