We gathered that evening and sat in silence, lit candles, offered prayers, told stories, sang hymns. Everyone was stressed out. What could I do or say to ease their pain?
On 9/11, I was the minister of the First Universalist Parish in Derby Line. I was also the president of my local (New Hampshire/Vermont) colleagues chapter and was getting ready to lead a welcoming worship in Concord, New Hampshire when word came of the attack. We gathered in silence, in disbelief, and then I sent everyone home to their congregations. I phoned my congregation's administrator and asked him to alert everyone that we would gather that evening for a worship service. It was my son’s 11th birthday; sorry, no party. It was a long drive from Concord. So many thoughts swirling in my head. What did it mean for the U.S.? The world? My family? My congregation? Vermont? We gathered that evening and sat in silence, lit candles, offered prayers, told stories, sang hymns. Everyone was stressed out. What could I do or say to ease their pain? What on earth was I going to say on Sunday? I rose early that morning, and wrote. My sermon was titled "Rising from the Ashes." I closed with these words: "This is our opportunity to make sense of the horror, the terror, the utter and willful destruction of innocent human life. Let us not waste this most precious opportunity. Let us rise from the ashes, blessed with the grace of new life, and go forward to live Love out in Justice. Love and Justice, which in the end will prevail." I thought that things would change in this country. That we would gather together in the name of love and justice, and do what was right. Instead, President Bush told us to go shopping. I've never been so disappointed in all my life. I fought the irrational fear and hatred that arose after 9/11... our Muslim siblings at the forefront. I continued to work for Justice. I continued to grieve the ineptitude of the government...around so many issues.. Guantanamo, the climate crisis, the prejudice against anyone who wasn't a WASP, the prejudice against LGBTQ people. It grieves me still. We learned nothing.
Jane Dwinell
