REFLECTIONS ON THE TERRORIST TRAGEDY
by Robert E. Wenger, Ph.D.
Chair, Division of General Education
Professor of History

As the unthinkable events of September 11, 2001 unfolded, many kinds of thoughts flooded my mind. How could I place the tragedy in perspective? Eventually I was able to classify my reflections according to four roles I fulfill.

Some of my thoughts have arisen out of my role simply as a human being. I am outraged because this attack was a crime against all humanity. The perpetrators, whatever their motives, demonstrated in their methods an unbelievable callousness toward human life. I grieve for the loss of thousands of lives, each one of them created in the image of God. I cannot conceive of a greater insult against both humans and their Creator.

Other reflections are related to my role as an American. I love my country, and this atrocity was like a sudden blow to the stomach. It reminded me of how vulnerable our open society makes us. The very freedom that enables me to pursue a peaceful vocation opens the door to diabolical abuses. This is a risk of democracy. I mourn the inevitable loss of freedom that this tragedy will necessitate, for no society will tolerate anarchy. If people will not control themselves through inner principles, they will have to be tethered by external restraints. Unfortunately, this minimizes the rights of all.

But as an American I also am gratified to see the generous outpouring of goodwill to the suffering. Americans can be highly partisan and devoted to individual interests. But traditionally they have, in crisis times, put aside their self-interest and rallied around those in need, whether at home or abroad. They are generous and empathetic, and these qualities have again come to the fore. Their response has been overwhelming, and the nation has become more unified than at any time in recent memory.

Still other reflections have come out of my role as a student of history. This event has provided a shocking dose of reality for the United States. We have long lived in a dream world of security while violence has ravaged the rest of the globe. The wars of the twentieth century have barely touched our shores, and even though the attack on Pearl Harbor was on our property, it was too far away from most of us to touch our lives or possessions. But now we have a first-hand glimpse of what it must be like to live in Israel, Kosovo, or Northern Ireland.

Another historical lesson from this tragedy is the hatred the United States must absorb as a world leader. We did not originally seek this position; we only reluctantly entered the two world wars. But the mantle that has fallen on our shoulders for the past half century has not been worn easily. We have not always been wise in our exercise of leadership, and we bear the consequences of that. But even our generosity has often come back to haunt us, for some of our beneficiaries begrudge us the very wealth that has enabled us to be generous.

A fourth set of reflections arise out of my role as a student of the Bible. Apart from obvious lessons about human depravity, I ponder most the truth of God's sovereignty. Scripture tells me that He has not lost control, now that terrorism has come to America. Some of us have accepted His providence in theory; now we need to claim it in practice. Apparently many who previously gave little credence to this truth are now ready to seek the face of this God in prayer. I have been amazed at the number of scheduled prayer services that have flashed across the bottom of my TV screen, and even more amazed at the network message reminding us to pray for those who have lost relatives and friends. A secular mind set seems inadequate in the face of tragedy. But why do we need tragedy to shock us into our need for our Creator?

This terrorist attack may also have the salutary effect of showing a frivolous, hedonistic, materialistic generation what the essentials of life are. The twin towers representing the heart of the American economy lie in ruins, brought down with remarkable ease, a symbol of the transience of earthly things. The sudden deaths of thousands of our fellow humans remind us that life is fragile, death is certain, and it may come without warning. I am instructed by Scripture to grasp the essential purpose for which I was born–to enjoy the eternal life His Son has provided and to share it with others. Why expend my energies on what is by nature perishing?

But in reflecting on biblical teachings, I find most uncomfortable of all the command to pray for my enemies. Yet this is the trait that will most identify me with my Savior, who prayed, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." Justice must eventually be served, but there is no room for hatred, for if I hate, am I not perpetuating the very atmosphere that produced this tragedy? I have been forgiven; therefore I must forgive.