There's Still Something Missing
Dave Faust
There's Still Something Missing
Publication: The Lookout
Date: September 8, 2002
Column: First Look
Category: Hope; 9/11; Terrorism
Sorting through boxes in the basement the other day, I found some computer software someone had given me several years ago. One box contained a flight simulator game, and the cover showed a plane zooming between the towers of the World Trade Center. I groaned, and when I showed it to my wife, she winced and sadly shook her head.
Reminders of last September's tragic events abound this week. Churches are holding special prayer services. Communities are honoring firefighters, police officers, and rescue workers. People all over the world will pause this week to reflect and pray. Editorials and TV specials will raise hard questions. How has the world changed since last year's attacks? How can we protect ourselves against further acts of terrorism? How should we respond to our Middle-Eastern neighbors? What have we learned about the price of freedom, and our willingness to pay it? Christians will ask ourselves further questions: How did September 11 affect our faith? How can we take the gospel to the millions devoted to Islam?
Beneath all the questions there's a nagging sense of loss. In our family photo album there's a picture of my wife Candy standing with me on top of the World Trade Center, sporting windblown hair and big smiles. We visited the site dozens of times over the years—first while our family lived in New York, then with groups of college students I led to the city to learn about urban ministry.
Our last visit took place in April of last year. As Candy and I stood with our daughter on the vast pavement beneath the twin towers, we asked her, "Do you want to go to the top?"
"No," Melinda said. "Let's not take the time today. There will be plenty of other times when I can come back and see it." A few months later, the pavilion where we stood became a crater known as Ground Zero.
The missing buildings symbolize a greater loss. Thousands of families still miss loved ones who died on that fiery September morning. Men and women in uniform remember their fallen comrades. Military families endure ongoing separation while soldiers stand in harm's way. Travelers miss some of the convenience and freedom they once enjoyed.
Despite our sadness, though, Americans have responded with grit and determination, confident that burned buildings eventually will be rebuilt, the staggering economy eventually will rebound, and mournful families will move on. Meanwhile, the church continues to play a vital role in the rebuilding process. When churches started by New York's Go Ye Chapel Mission distributed more than a million dollars in disaster relief, a positive front-page article in the New York Times noted how quickly the funds were distributed with a minimum of paperwork. GYCM president Paul Williams said, "We have been distributing the funds through churches we have planted, and churches have been meeting needs like these for 2,000 years." The money went in Jesus' name to small business owners, schoolteachers, postal workers, airline employees, and grieving families. Plus, there are plans for a new church to begin next year in lower Manhattan.
That's good news. Because a year after September 11, there's still something missing in too many hearts. It's not made of glass and steel; money can't buy it; and when it's missing, violence and hate are the result. Yet, every true Christian from New York to Afghanistan possesses it.
It's something called hope. And no terrorist can take it away.
This column first appeared in The Lookout on Sep 8, 2002.
There Had Better Be a Heaven
An interviewer asked the prominent atheist Richard Dawkins, "How do you prepare for death in a world where there isn't a god?" He replied, "We had better live our life to the full while we have it, because there is nothing after it." Without offering any evidence for his belief, he continued by saying, "We are very lucky accidents" who simply "ought to use our brief time in the sunlight to maximum effect."
They Didn't Know
They didn't know what lay ahead of them that day. Seven astronauts waved at TV cameras as they prepared to board their spacecraft. It was January 28, 1986. Shortly after lift-off the space shuttle Challenger exploded, taking the lives of school-teacher Christa McAuliffe and the rest of the crew.