"Where Were You?" a sermon for 16 Pentecost (9/13/16)

 

“Where were you when the world stopped turning on that September day?

Were you in the yard with your wife and children

Or working on some stage in L.A.?”

 

            So writes country singer Alan Jackson in his song, “Where were you?”  Jackson’s song is about the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center in New York City.  Just the other day we marked twenty-five years since the tragedy changed our lives forever.  I am sure most of us can remember where we were that fateful day.

            I was a newbie to ordained ministry.  I had not yet seen one year of priestly ministry.  I was working at a church in Columbia, Missouri.  I did not know what had happened.  I heard strange reports on the news as I drove to the church.  It was not until I got in that I discovered the horror of what had happened in New York.

            I also remember that I was up to preach that following Sunday.  How I struggled with what to say!  How could I offer healing and hope when it seemed like the world was falling apart?  I turned to my favorite passage for inspiration.  In Isaiah chapter 49 we read these verses:

But Zion said, “I don’t get it.  God has left me.

    My Master has forgotten I even exist.”

^15-18 “Can a mother forget the infant at her breast,

    walk away from the baby she bore?

But even if mothers forget,

    I’d never forget you—never.

Look, I’ve written your names on the backs of my hands.

Isaiah 49:14-16 (MSG)

 

            Isaiah’s words are spoken at a dark time in Israel’s history.  Jerusalem has been sacked.  Babylon has carried the rich and the elite off to exile.  The Temple lay in ruins.  .The people begin to wonder if they got it wrong.  What about God’s promises to Abraham and David?  What about God’s Covenant faithfulness?

            The prophet writes to assure the exiles of God’s love and faithfulness.  It is difficult to imagine that a parent could forget their child.  Yet it does happen.  However, Isaiah says, it is impossible for God to forget His Children.  Israel is written on the palm of God’s hand, there for God to see and always remember.

            You and I are right there.  Carved in the palm of God’s hand.  Our names are written in indelible ink.  So are the names of those who lost their lives that September morning.  God did not and has not forgotten them.  Just as their names are now in stone, so they, too, are lovingly carved in the palm of God’s hand.

            I was at the 9/11 Memorial several years ago.  It was a powerful experience to see all those names, to see the flowers for birthdays.  No longer were the victim nameless to me.  They had names and had people who loved and cared for them.  Those who gathered at the memorial did so reverently, quietly.

            I recall the sense of unity, of common humanity that followed the attacks.  Differences were largely set aside as neighbor helped neighbor.  Strangers welcomed displaced passengers into their homes.  We promised to never forget.  To always honor the victims as well as the brave first responders.

            No doubt you have your own stories and memories of where you were that day.  I’m sure you remember where you were when you first heard the horrific news.  Perhaps you, too, have honored the lives lost at the memorial where the towers once stood.  Maybe you’ve been to the field in Pennsylvania where flight 93 crashed.

            May we never forget what happened that tragic September morning.  May we continue to honor the memories of the victims.  May we remember the loving kindness of the days that followed.  I can think of no better way to honor those that died.  May we trust in the loving faithfulness of a God who does not forget us, but holds us in the palm of His hand.