Remembering 9/11 along the Jesus Way

Submitted by Patrick Burrows, September 14, 2010

This past Saturday was the ninth anniversary of the tragedy of September 11, 2001. Everyone remembers where they were when the news of the events in New York, Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania came across the airwaves. I was sitting in Mrs. Bowman’s 8th grade English class when our principal made an announcement in a choked voice that still stands as the only time I witnessed her emotions. For the remainder of the day, the entire school stared at the television, transfixed by the horror that was happening too close to home. For my generation, this moment in time sits as a pivot: that moment when suddenly, everything changed.

Last year, President Obama made a call to service in remembrance of 9/11 and of those who perished on that day. The Life Together program, in conjunction with the Episcopal Diocese of Massachusetts, organized its second annual day of service stemming from this call. We came to serve alongside our brothers and sisters from across Eastern Massachusetts, both inside and outside of the Church. Service in this way struck me as an act of radical protest. By serving, we protest against the violence and hatred of that day with humility and love–the opposite virtues–rather than with violence and hatred as some are wont to do. This is what Christianity is about: Love in the face of hatred and fear.

I had the privilege on Friday night of travelling with another intern to St. Stephen’s, Lynn to watch the premiere of the youth group’s short film, “I am Lynn”, which many of you will have the opportunity to see at Diocesan Convention in November. In it, I heard the youth of St. Stephen’s recount stories of violence and fear from their past that shook me to my very core. But the striking thing was not the fear, but the fact that these youth were able to stand up in the face of these horrific moments and show compassion, not only towards the people around them, but also on themselves as witnesses, survivors, or perpetrators. Though they would likely be hesitant to view it this way, the love I witnessed in these youth who have so much slated against them blew me away. Rather than buckling to fear, they counter it with love.

It strikes me, then, that three days after September 11, the Church celebrates the Feast of the Holy Cross. The collect of the day reads: “Almighty God, whose Son our Savior Jesus Christ was lifted high upon the cross that he might draw the whole world to himself…” quoting the Gospel according to St. John, 12:32. For first century denizens of the Roman Empire, the cross was the symbol of the most shameful, most horrifying way to die imaginable. But upon that cross, Jesus stretched forth his arms in a loving embrace, not bowing to the violence of that moment. And through that embrace, the symbol of the cross—once the incarnation of terror—has become the symbol of God’s saving act of love for us.

This is the Jesus way: to stand boldly in the face of terror, violence, and hatred and proclaim peace, humility, and love.

The Spiritual Practice of Trust

By Kelsey Rice Bogdan


Last week I read an article in the Boston Phoenix about cycles of youth violence, and why they are so hard to break. In “Dead Kids”, author David S. Bernstein writes that youth who would not participate in violence under normal circumstances are drawn toward it in violent neighborhoods, out of a need to protect one’s self. The result is a dynamic “where the fear of violence ironically pushes adolescent boys to copy the same behaviors, and end up on the same paths, as those before them.”  


This article especially hit home to me because of the impact two recent local shootings, that of 14-year-old Nicholas Fomby-Davis and 27-year-old Cory Johnson, have had on my communities. Fomby-Davis was a student at Dearborn Middle School, where Trinity Church has been organizing to turn the school around. I had assisted Johnson’s aunt as a lay worship leader only a few months ago when she preached at my Presbyterian church in Brookline. What struck me about the Phoenix article, in the context of these murders, was the fundamental role fear and mistrust plays in the ongoing violence.  


Fear is in many ways fundamental to the human condition. I don’t talk about certain things with certain people because I fear rejection. Our country doesn’t have honest discussion about energy policy, immigration policy, or pretty much any policy these days, because we fear change and loss. And in some parts of our city, people kill because they fear being killed. And all of this fear affects each one of us. Slowly, bit by bit, the fear poisons us. 


If I asked you to name the antidote to fear, you might respond with “hope.” But how do we live out hope? As our Hope in Action site here at Trinity Church stands poised to launch our college coaching program next week at Pathway Technology Campus in Villa Victoria, I find myself increasingly reflecting on the spiritual practice of trust as an expression of hope. If fear is born out of a basic level of mistrust, then trust becomes the ultimate counter to fear. Where mistrust leads toward dysfunction, the choice to trust opens us up to the interdependent life God intends for humanity. 


I’ve been learning a lot about trust in my own life during the past few weeks. As I transition out of my position as a Relational Evangelist, I also prepare our Hope in Action community to carry on our work  without me. I went on a short vacation a few weeks ago. The day before my return to the office, I realized with a sense of panic that I hadn’t done any work while I was gone. I had left all the work for others to do, leaving myself with no control over the process. And yes, I was afraid that nothing had happened. 


And what did I find when I got back? Tara and Christopher had matched up our volunteers to students who needed their help in Villa Victoria. Laura had already planned out the next meeting agenda. Eric had made plans and requested volunteers for our kickoff event. The team had come together to do what needed to be done. And I heard a call to trust more fully in our community. 


My impending departure from Trinity Hope in Action has made me realize more than ever that no matter how self-sufficient I am, I need a lot of help to accomplish the justice work that needs to be done. If I try to carry this whole project myself because someone else might not do it right, or not do it at all, then my mistrust limits the scope and impact of what we’re able to do.  


As I practice trust, amazing things happen at Trinity. Last week we held two training sessions for our new coaches, which were well-attended and well-facilitated by Hope in Action volunteers. Next week, we will hold the first of two thousand coaching hours with adult learners. These sessions will increase Pathway Technology Campus’ capacity, allowing it to offer tutoring and life coaching services to adults, where they have never before been available consistently. This development is happening through the hard work of a team that trusts and supports one another to get the job done. 


Admittedly, these are baby steps—they aren’t going to end youth violence immediately. But they witness to the way we’re supposed to live in relationship to our neighbors, ultimately turning the tide. Trusting can be difficult, and we shouldn’t naïvely do so. But in a world where our need to control destroys us, where our fear of one another kills innocent people in the street, it is time to cultivate the practice of relying on one another. Not only can it teach us more about how to live with one another in peace, but it can help us more fully lean into our fundamental dependence on a loving God.