RETURN TO FRONT PAGE OF THIS ISSUE

From the Rector

The Rev. Stephen Elkins-Williams

In the aftermath of our national tragedy, I want to devote this space to excerpts from your clergy's sermons in response. The full text of each is available in the dining room, church, and chapel, as well as on the web site. I hope you will find this compilation helpful.

-- Stephen

From Stephen Stanley's sermon at a special service the evening after the attacks, the substance of which he had given earlier that day on campus to a gathering of over 10,000 people:

... In these last days, the TV has become the modern altar around which people huddle for answers and solace. We have been scattered, each to his or her own home, as the Lord says in our Gospel. But we, the scattered, come together tonight, not to an electronic but to an eternal altar and make our prayer to the One Christ, who can hear us, and spare us, and deliver us, as He has heard and spared us and delivered our ancestors before us. He is our Peace. And his peace must rule in our hearts if it is to rule in the world ... Tonight we gather not to marshal our hate but that eternal hope. Tonight we gather not to marshal our passionate counter-attack but our passionate concern. Tonight we gather to say what matters: everything matters. Tonight we gather to say who belongs. In God's world, everyone belongs.

From the pastoral letter of our Bishop, Michael Curry, which was read at all services on Sunday, September 16:

We have been deeply wounded. Our world has changed in ways we may not grasp for years. And yet, we who are Christian follow the Crucified One whose very wounds became the source of healing. Let us, therefore, rededicate ourselves to be who we are, disciples, followers, of the Lord Jesus. And let us therefore be about the business of binding up the broken, of helping to heal the hurts, and of joining with all people of good will, whether Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or of no religious tradition, to build the better world that God intends for us all.

From my homily at the funeral of Molly Elizabeth Davies, aged 13, who died suddenly and unusually the next week:

We have unwillingly learned many things these past ten days. We realize in a whole new way that we do not lead isolated lives, that what affects any of us affects us all. We understand with new insight the reality behind John Donne's words of four centuries ago, "Do no ask for whom the bell tolls ... the bell tolls for thee."

We have a new grasp of the preciousness of life and how fragile it is. So quickly and unexpectedly it can ge gone. We cannot take for granted our lives or the lives of those around us. They are precious gifts and to be cherished and honored for as long as we have them.

Correspondingly we have a deeper sense of our relative place in the larger scheme of things. We are not those around whom life revolves, nor are we masters of our destiny. Our imagined control over our lives is simply an illusion. Rather our security and our hope come from God, who if not in control (since love does not control) is in charge. "God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in time of trouble."

From Tammy Lee's sermon on Sunday, September 23:

There is such a thing as holy war, but it is not Jihad in the way we have seen it declared. It is not what you witnessed on your television screens beginning at 8:45 a.m. the 11th. It does not slaughter the innocent by stealth anywhere; it does not further victimize the oppressed anywhere. It is, however, a war declared by the first sentences in our baptismal covenant: "Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God? Do you renounce the evil powers of this world that corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?" ... Jihad as we know it, holy war, is a war of love that began at 9:00 a.m. when those first police, fire, and rescue units headed toward those burning buildings.

When those public servants began making their pilgrimage to an unspeakable horror, thinking not of themselves but of those inside. When firemen ran up the stairs as terrified others ran down. When a priest died giving last rites. It began when a washed-up mayor whose behavior was reprehensible became a leader to a people in desperate need. It continued when taxi drivers gave out over 3330 free rides and people opened their doors and pocketbooks to strangers in need. It continued when the first thing someone asked you in New York City was your name. It continued when Washington became something other than fiercely bipartisan and when Yassar Arafat later called, for the first time in Middle East history, a cease fire that required no one to fire even if fired upon.

This holy war of love began when people became a community gathered around a common table where love was the sustenance offered -- at altar tables in churches around the globe, at tables in dining rooms all over the country where airport employees, retail workers and entire communities took stranded passengers and displaced persons home with them, at tables in offices and conference rooms where competitor invited its nemesis into its office space until it can relocate ... As Christians our table is presided over by Jesus Christ who is not powerless when His kingdom is at stake. The holy war sets the oppressed free, proclaims release to the captives, the recovering of sight to the blind. It brings the acceptable year of the Lord to all God's children here and elsewhere including Afghanistan.

© 2001: Chapel of the Cross