Like the images of the space shuttle Challenger exploding in mid-flight, the sight of the United Airlines plane crashing into the World Trade Center #2 building-with the Hollywood-esque ball of orange fire bursting out of the upper floors-is now etched permanently in the minds of anyone watching TV on September 11. Add to that sight the stunning images of imploding skyscrapers, billowing smoke across the NYC skyline, the Pentagon ablaze, wreckage strewn across the Somerset County countryside, the frantic efforts to search for survivors amidst the rubble and the mind threatens to go numb.

It is very difficult-and maybe even dangerous-to find an appropriate perspective on a tragic event of this proportion, especially so soon after its occurrence. Most of us have no "frame of reference" to make sense of such a catastrophe, no comparative experiences which can bring order and understanding to the horrific drama that suddenly unfolded before us.

In our struggle to fill that vacuum, our tendency almost always is to seek meaning from the sources closest at hand. For most Americans that means an appeal to national pride and a steely determination to exact revenge. A smaller group, on the other hand, perhaps especially among Mennonites, has a reflexive impulse to quickly own national blame: after years of sowing to the winds of American military and economic dominance, we are now beginning to reap our own whirlwind.

Yet neither of these two perspectives can sufficiently bear the weight of the enormity of this event. As one way of moving beyond these initial reactions-reactions that could quickly polarize our churches into two "camps" on this issue-I offer the following thoughts that come out of my own perspective as a citizen, a historian, a Mennonite, and a Christian.

1. Let us bear witness to the pain of those who are suffering. The number of people who have died as a result of the four hijacked planes and the aftermath of destruction may never fully be known. Early estimates of the likely number of fatalities staggers our imagination. Yet, behind the sheer magnitude of this number are individual people-each with a distinctive face; each with plans and dreams for the future that came to a sudden and abrupt end. During the weeks ahead the pain of each individual death will send a ripple of grief through a circle of family, friends and co-workers. Most of us, perhaps, will not be directly affected by the loss of a loved one. But all of us can bear witness to the pain evoked by this senseless loss of life. Even from a distance it is appropriate to weep with those who weep, to mourn with those who mourn.

2. Let us be reminded of the fragility of our orderly lives. One of the often-hidden consequences of life in a superpower is the very orderliness and routineity of our daily activities. To be sure, there are many people in our country for whom life is not always orderly or secure; and yet from a perspective of world history the relative peace and affluence that most North Americans have come to assume as "normal" is actually an amazing aberration-an exception to the far more common state of affairs of most people in the world who are constantly vulnerable to the unpredictability of disease, famine or war. The orderly flow of our own life-sustained by the rule of law, a growing economy, habits of self-restraint, and even the common courtesies extended at a four-way stop sign-is something that we have come to take for granted. The events of September 11 are a reminder that the web of civil stability is fragile indeed. We should return to our lives with renewed appreciation and gratitude for the social order we have come to assume.

3. Let us become more attentive to the patterns of violence in our world. No act of violence-especially not those planned and organized by terrorist groups-takes place in a vacuum. The seeds of hatred that gave rise to these events were sown, no doubt, long ago; they were likely watered by a deep and festering sense of political and economic injustice; and they took root amidst the rage of powerlessness. Though hard for us to believe, from the perspective of the perpetrators the violence that we witnessed on September 11 was almost certainly an act of "retributive justice" against a powerful nation that came to be a symbol of evil. The powerful impulse among most Americans to "strike back swiftly and decisively" is understandable; yet nothing in such an action will address the sources of hatred that have brought us to this point. And we should not surprised if military retribution will only result in another round of violence and vengeance-seeking. Numerous people in Congress have recently called for a sober and thorough review of our military and intelligence preparedness. As we carry out that review in the months ahead, we should also conduct an equally thorough review of the historical roots of the conflict and we should seek deliberate and imaginative ways of breaking free of the current cycle of violence.

4. Let us consciously attempt to view all of these events from God's perspective. In Psalms 46 we get a glimpse of how to look on world events through the eyes of God. We are reminded at the very outset of the psalm that it is God-not human beings or national governments-who is "our refuge and strength, a present help in times of trouble." Even as "the nations rage and kingdoms totter" around us, "The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge." Moreover, Yahweh is a God who "makes wars cease to the end of the earth; [who] breaks the bow, and shatters the spear"; Yahweh calls us to "a river whose streams make glad the city of God." In the weeks and months ahead, as we continue to follow the 24/7 news coverage of the rescue and clean-up efforts, as we share in the pain, grief and outrage of those who have suffered, and as we debate the merits of various political responses, we should also be mindful of the concluding words of this Psalm: "Be still, and know that I am God. I am exalted among the nations, I am exalted in the earth! The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge."

John D. Roth is Professor of History at Goshen College and editor of the Mennonite Quarterly Review. His response to the tragedy on September 11, 2001, first appeared in the Goshen College RECORD.

Published SFP: 9/24/01

Comments about this article may be e-mailed to: John Fisher, johnjf@goshen.edu, or to John D. Roth johndroth@goshen.edu

HTML editing by Lon Sherer, lonhs@goshen.edu

SFP Homepage