9/12
6 years later
Throughout the day yesterday I was reminded of the disaster, destruction and death of 9/11. It's a poignant memory, an inescapable anniversary. At one gathering a picture was held up of one of the flight attendants, originating from the Bay Area, that died one of the United flights that day. 
At the same time, throughout these moments of memory, gratitude for lives, and reflection I was attentive to the fact that 9/12 is maybe just as important (if not more so today) than 9/12. I remember 9/11. We had just moved back to California from Europe. We had no TV, and little furniture in our apartment. My mother-in-law called us to tell us what had happened. We listened to the events unfold through the spotty reception of NPR on our radio. Calls were made. Breaths were held. It was a Tuesday. I started an internship in Berkeley and remember driving across the Richmond/San Rafael bridge
from San Anselmo to the East Bay and seeing less than a dozen cars. It seemed like the world had ended, that everything was wrapped in silence except for the whirring sound of the F-14s flying over Southern Marin that night. But what happened that next day?
9/12/01 was a day in which the Afghanistan restaurants of Berkeley were flooded with patrons, each making a statement by their action, which I'd say was both simultaneously political and theological. While CNN droned on with the endlessly-looping-video of the WTC Towers crashing down, or airplanes crashing into the tower, or even worse the airborne free-falling bodies of those that jumped to their deaths, some people choose to be active peace-makers, working with and talking to Afghani and Arab-descendent residents throughout the East Bay from particular
restaurants to the large Afghani population in Fremont. It was a statement, seemingly overlooked in the brouhaha of asserted connections between bin Laden, WTC, Afghanistan, Iraq, Sadaam, all things evil, and the urgent need for military action in order to solve our problems.
In September of 2002 I remember driving a visiting friend to the Oakland Airport for a 5am flight. On the way back through East Oakland I was struck by a report on NPR as the sun was rising over the Oakland Hills. War had begun. Terror was being vanquished (supposedly). We were united. The reporter wondered what the world could have become....what would have happened if our President would have said, "TIME OUT." Something is wrong. We need to talk. What would have happened if he would have invited every leader of the nations of our planet to come to a week-long BBQ, sit-in, conversation/dialogue at his Texas ranch? A time to talk, listen, share, and listen again....what could have been born from such an effort of peace-making around a shared table, in active discussion, in a dialogue based upon mutuality and solidarity? I've never forgotten those words and my thoughts. I actually pulled over to the side of the road - dressed in my pajamas driving my car through the dissapating darkeness - to listen, to soak in all of the words.
It's six years later. I still remember both of those days. I don't mean any disrespect to those that lost loved ones on 9/11. It was a horrible day, for all peoples of our plent. And I find myself wondering if maybe we should remember, reflect upon, and mark the anniversary of 9/12 perhaps more than that of 9/11. We hear the slogan "Never Forget," part of that should include asking ourselves, how did we respond on 9/12? How are we responding today? How are we peacemakers? What does that even mean? I think of Jesus' words about peacemaking - spoken from a mountain top to a people that was oppressed and enslaved by the dominating foreign power of Rome. What if we had responded to bin Laden, as Jesus invited his people and listeners to respond to Cesar?
At the same time, throughout these moments of memory, gratitude for lives, and reflection I was attentive to the fact that 9/12 is maybe just as important (if not more so today) than 9/12. I remember 9/11. We had just moved back to California from Europe. We had no TV, and little furniture in our apartment. My mother-in-law called us to tell us what had happened. We listened to the events unfold through the spotty reception of NPR on our radio. Calls were made. Breaths were held. It was a Tuesday. I started an internship in Berkeley and remember driving across the Richmond/San Rafael bridge
from San Anselmo to the East Bay and seeing less than a dozen cars. It seemed like the world had ended, that everything was wrapped in silence except for the whirring sound of the F-14s flying over Southern Marin that night. But what happened that next day?9/12/01 was a day in which the Afghanistan restaurants of Berkeley were flooded with patrons, each making a statement by their action, which I'd say was both simultaneously political and theological. While CNN droned on with the endlessly-looping-video of the WTC Towers crashing down, or airplanes crashing into the tower, or even worse the airborne free-falling bodies of those that jumped to their deaths, some people choose to be active peace-makers, working with and talking to Afghani and Arab-descendent residents throughout the East Bay from particular
restaurants to the large Afghani population in Fremont. It was a statement, seemingly overlooked in the brouhaha of asserted connections between bin Laden, WTC, Afghanistan, Iraq, Sadaam, all things evil, and the urgent need for military action in order to solve our problems.In September of 2002 I remember driving a visiting friend to the Oakland Airport for a 5am flight. On the way back through East Oakland I was struck by a report on NPR as the sun was rising over the Oakland Hills. War had begun. Terror was being vanquished (supposedly). We were united. The reporter wondered what the world could have become....what would have happened if our President would have said, "TIME OUT." Something is wrong. We need to talk. What would have happened if he would have invited every leader of the nations of our planet to come to a week-long BBQ, sit-in, conversation/dialogue at his Texas ranch? A time to talk, listen, share, and listen again....what could have been born from such an effort of peace-making around a shared table, in active discussion, in a dialogue based upon mutuality and solidarity? I've never forgotten those words and my thoughts. I actually pulled over to the side of the road - dressed in my pajamas driving my car through the dissapating darkeness - to listen, to soak in all of the words.
It's six years later. I still remember both of those days. I don't mean any disrespect to those that lost loved ones on 9/11. It was a horrible day, for all peoples of our plent. And I find myself wondering if maybe we should remember, reflect upon, and mark the anniversary of 9/12 perhaps more than that of 9/11. We hear the slogan "Never Forget," part of that should include asking ourselves, how did we respond on 9/12? How are we responding today? How are we peacemakers? What does that even mean? I think of Jesus' words about peacemaking - spoken from a mountain top to a people that was oppressed and enslaved by the dominating foreign power of Rome. What if we had responded to bin Laden, as Jesus invited his people and listeners to respond to Cesar?
‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
‘Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
‘Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
‘Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
for they will be filled.
‘Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
‘Blessed are the peacemakers,
‘Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
‘Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
‘Blessed are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
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