How many times have you heard it said that we really find out who we are in the midst of a crisis? People you think might be calm, cool and collected become frantic and anxious and absolutely no help whatsoever. Conversely, people who are normally anxious and tightly wound become more calm and rational in the midst of crisis. The point is that sometimes there is no predicting how we will behave until we are in the midst of something terrible.
In the past week the news has been full of stories about how people experienced Sept. 11, 2001. As the various stories flooded the radio waves, I was struck by how touched people in New York were by the gestures of goodwill and solidarity and assistance. In a city that is normally characterized by emotional distance, alienation, a hectic pace, and lack of community, people came together emotionally and physically as a result of the tragedy. All over the country, churches and synagogues and mosques and other religious gatherings were full of people who were not normally present. In a moment when our country and New York City and Washington D. C. and people who lived near a field in Pennsylvania felt vulnerable, the response was to gather in community and to offer and receive emotional, spiritual and physical support.
As I participated yesterday in our Interfaith Memorial Service of Trust, Friendship and Solidarity, I was struck by how fleeting the moment of togetherness was and how quickly we turned as a country to revenge and might and fighting back. In other words, rather than being transformed by the experience, we simply reverted as a country to who we are at the worst of times. In fact, we went further by adding Guantanamo Bay, the abuses at Abu Graib and other prisons, extraordinary rendition and torture. The sadness I feel about our collective response is deep and wide. Fortunately, I was also struck yesterday by how individuals and communities have reached out to each other and found each other in ways that might not have happened had the tragedy not occurred. The Montclair church and Kehilla Community Synagogue and the Islamic Cultural Center of Northern California have been gathering in a small group for the past 10 years. The hope is that friendships will continue to develop and that deeper understanding and solidarity will form between all 3 congregations. The work is not always easy as differences are discussed in order to reach understanding. We have so much in common and we have so much that is different.
In place of the sermon that is normally preached at Montclair, Rabbi David Cooper and Imam Dr. Rahim Nobahar and I were to reflect on Lessons Learned and Lessons Yet to Be Learned. One of the things I said in my reflection on Lessons Yet to Be Learned is that anytime we are trying to create change, we have to begin with ourselves. Imagine concentric circles that begin with self, move to family, go on to community, connect with wider community, etc…I told the group gathered (Christians, Jews, Muslims, Atheists, Agnostics, Unsures) that I am far more afraid of the Extremists who are Right Wing Christians than I am of any other faith communities. The truth is that no matter what the faith, it is the extremists of any of them that are most dangerous. In Norway, the man who recently massacred so many claimed to be a Christian. Timothy McVeigh, the Oklahoma City bomber also claimed to be a Christian. Why don’t people everywhere fear right wing Christians as they did Muslims after Sept. 11?
Any faith tradition becomes dangerous when those in power believe they have the “right” answer and people need to be divided into good and bad, righteous or sinful, saved or damned. As Imam Dr. Nobahar reminded all of yesterday, our call is to open our hearts and our minds.