This is a date that not many of us will forget.
On September 11th 2001 I was also in a tower, smaller by far than the World Trade Center, yet one of the tallest in our town. Here it is:
I was visiting Ellen. She was an older lady and beset with very serious illness (from which within a month she died to this world). It was soon after 2:00pm British Summer Time and I had picked up a story of a potential bomb or plane crash in New York. By the time I was at the hospital there was that general muttering about something big happening and my last listen to a radio emphasised how big things were becoming.
Sitting at Ellen's bedside it was possible to sense that a nurse here and there was speaking to another along the lines of, "Have you heard the News?" or "Something's happening in America, isn't it?".
What I will never forget is how, on that least normal of all 21st century afternoons, my pastoral visit to Ellen was absolutely unaffected. She, it was clear, was coming to the close of her life. We spoke together; we prayed to God who was not phased by unfolding drama elsewhere (he who upholds all things). I was about to travel through turbulent days: My sister in Christ was coming to that Place of Rest where such things are overwhelmed by the love of God and seeing her Saviour face to face.
It has always given me a perspective on 9/11. As a Christian Pastor I have a higher calling than world events, even those triggered (as many of them have always been) by socio-religious frameworks. Soul work is the real work.
For, as Jesus might have said, what does it profit a man if he gains [a lot of media attention and influence in Manhattan Planning Department] and loses his own soul?
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