Remember that the more specific you can be, the more the rest of us will benefit from your comments–KSH.
Remember that the more specific you can be, the more the rest of us will benefit from your comments–KSH.
At the time, I was a captain at American Airlines, and had been scheduled to fly that day. Due to a bad case of poison ivy, my first in 40 years, I called in sick for 9/11. In any case, I would not have been involved, but would have watched it in the crew lounge in Chicago. I heard about the first impact while listening to the radio while shaving. My first reaction, like many pilots, was to think it was a tragic accident, similar to the B-25 bomber flying into the Empire State Building in 1945. A few minutes later, over a bowl of cereal, I saw the second impact on TV. The phrase “going numb” certainly applies, because I knew what that meant, even without the details. After watching for some time, I called a cousin who lives in the DC area. He did not have the news on, so I told him there was a terrorist attack in progress, and above all to stay out of Washington. A few minutes later, the Pentagon was hit.
The rest of the day was spent watching the tragedy unfold. There was some information which I received through American’s employee communications system as well as the pilot’s electronic bulletin board, but obviously there was too much confusion to get much out. Unlike so much of the news media, what did come out was based on fact rather than wild conjecture. They did block the crew lists on both flights, but a few people had grabbed the information before that was done, so I knew who was on the flights. Surprisingly I did not know any of them personally.
I had intended to call a few people to let them know I was OK, but my phone started to ring and continued through most of the day. I heard from people I hadn’t talked to in years. Likewise, my email was busy. I even got a call from a local TV reporter asking for a comment, but I directed them to the FAA and American Airlines. Unfortunately there were a lot of “experts” who did not.
It took a few days for things to shake out and for information such as the passenger lists to flow, as it should. I did find that while I did not know any of the crew members, I did know two passengers. My anger toward the terrorists was deep and probably not very Christian, but I was also furious at the lack of effective security which allowed this to happen. It was widely understood in the industry that much of what was seen at the airports was intended to give the appearance of security to the passengers, and at the lowest possible cost.
Every year it has a different feel and for me this year it was above all about the finality of death. They were here and then they were gone.
They all went to work or their duties not knowing it was the last day of their lives.
Life is precious, death is final, and we are fleeting, more so than we want to admit. But days like today force us to confront that, and it is a good thing.
I did as usual think about an urgent phone call from a friend telling me to turn the TV set on and then sitting transfixed and with rising horror watching what was happening to people who were living a life not unlike my own.
But this year, this was juxtaposed with a vote in the British Parliament on ‘assisted dying,’ which fortunately by the evening had been rejected by three quarters of the House of Commons, in a majority even larger than the last time a similar proposal was put forward in 2012.
It made me think about the contradictory way we value people and think about death in our societies, and in particular how Christianity gives a unique and hopeful perspective. Christians combine at the same time a unique regard for human life made in the image of God and with a capacity for relationship with God which informs how we consider an embryo, a geriatric and the disabled; while at the same time, we while perhaps fearing the process of death, yet do not see it as the end and therefore do not fear death itself in the same way as the non religious who will rage, rage against the dying of the light, as Dylan Thomas put it.
Christians regard the lives of others as always important and the idea of taking it, for political or religious reasons takes on a seriousness and indeed the prospect of divine displeasure, a sacreligious act because we do not have the ownership or decision-making capacity to end life.
Other religions have similar ideas, but Christianity is unique in its view of us as a creation of God with a capacity for a personal relationship with a God who not only judges, but is prepared to make an ultimate sacrifice for us in love. This view of others gives us a capacity to love and respect and protect all human life following the lead Christ gave us.
The Jains whose temple I visited abroad and who gently sweep their courtyards so that no step should end the life of an ant or any other creature, yet have a religious practice of starving themselves to death, now the subject of review by the Indian courts.
The Islamists who guided those two aircraft into the World Trade Center, had no Christian view of the sanctity of human life attached to their concept of God, indeed quite the opposite in their reading of their religious teachings. Theirs was not a sacrificial servant God but an impartial judge and arbiter of their acts, prepared to reward their murderous actions, or so they had been told.
That is why it is Christianity and its regard for life which offers and needs to be confidently given to our society – a message of respect, encouragement and of love of God for us, and of us for one another.
Rowan Williams, in one of his more lucid moments in a lecture given in Singapore ‘Christianity: Public Religion and the Common Good‘ put it extremely well:
That is what I thought about on September 11th this year.