When Sin Reigns
An event like this shows us what humans are capable of becoming—both as children of darkness and of light
Darrell L. Bock | posted 9/01/2001 12:00AM
Sin is alive and well on Planet Earth. The attack on civilians and using civilian means of travel was sin at its most vile. When two planes hit the World Trade Towers, they flew all of us into a black hole of human making. Designed as an attack on American "symbols" of commerce and power, the one thing most ignored was the sanctity of human life. Terrorists saw a building's steel frame as a more significant monument to be destroyed than the lives of mothers and fathers taken as unwilling passengers on journeys of death and hatred. Sin is dark because it is blind, even as its sees its own selfish objectives so clearly. Sin is dark because unchecked it marches on to more horrific acts, from a failed attempt in 1993 to the destruction of 2001. As such, the attack of September 11 was not only an attack on the United States, it was part of an ongoing assault on humanity and life. We have been in this war a long time, we have just been slow to admit it. This was an attack both long in coming and rooted deep in something within all of us that needs to be checked. The one place where freedom fails is where sin reigns.Our reaction is that we must stop such vile sin. But to stop sin, one must change the heart's—all of our hearts'—tendency to think selfishly. We must quench the unregulated, lawless quest for power and control that spurred such an act. We must quell the hatred that turns people into pawns in the quest for political statements. We must refute the arguments and acts that contend that some people are really not people at all so it does not matter what I do with them or to them. We must calm the anger that causes me to turn my neighbor into an enemy, to turn one made in the image of God into an object of hate. We must acknowledge the standards of decency that God created as a potential within us all, a potential that is there until hatred and the blindness that accompanies sin extract it. Those who undertook this mission had been taught since childhood to hate. So hate they did. That is the world we live in. On Tuesday we saw its darkness explode in living color.
An event like this also gives pause. We see our frailty. That is not a bad thing. No amount of machismo can overcome our inherent mortality and frailty. Events like this also have the potential to show what people are capable of being, what God has created them to be—if we will only turn with a new resolve of a fresh direction before God. After the attack, I also saw something else I do not normally hear enough of in our public discourse. I saw people praying, people humbled, and people seriously, not casually, invoking the help of God. When you fly into a dark hole, the one thing most wanted is a glimpse of light. Other instincts also rooted deeply in us come alive, even though they have often been left dormant for years. Times of encounter with reality starkly set before us tend to perform such inner surgery. It is time for us to rediscover that we live our lives before a Creator God and encourage its nurture.
Here in the war against terrorism, which is really a war of the heart and its allegiances, the destructiveness of hatred meets another way. It is the way of loving one's neighbor. My faith calls on me to love God completely and love my neighbor as myself. New Yorkers, long notorious for not caring and being cold, gave of themselves and risked their lives to help their neighbor. In that rubble, what mattered was not one's ethnicity, but that there was human suffering and need that cried out for another outstretched hand. Around the country, people gave blood to help pump life back into our bleeding, global soul. Once the monument of steel had crumbled, the steel of human hearts touched by pain and properly invoking the divine served with caring hands. We need more of this in our world.
September (Web-only) 2001, Vol. 45
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