wordsout by Godfrey Rust                                     September 11, 2001  7 of 7  HOME


 

September 11, 2001
Complete version, revised for the tenth anniversary

What kind of story was this?

Was it the Tower of Babel?
Men said Come, let us build a city,
with a tower reaching to the heavens,
and make a name for ourselves.
From all nations they came to build the city
thinking nothing was impossible.
Today, they said, we will go into this or that market,
carry on business and make money.
Oh?
said James, You do not know what will happen today.
What is your life? You are a mist
that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

Was that it?
Or was it the beginning of Judgment?
Four aircraft of the Apocalypse
coming like thieves in the night,
the henchmen of some AntiChrist
making a few practice runs
to raze the new Jerusalem to dust.
And all of this permitted by the Lord, who has said 
I brought you into a fertile land
but you defiled it
You have as may gods as you have cities.
So flee for safety now without delay!
I am bringing disaster from the north,
even terrible destruction.
Where then are the gods you made for yourselves?
Let them come if they can save you.
Was it a slaughter of innocents?
Which of us is innocent? Eighteen people died
when a tower fell in Siloam, and Jesus asked
What, do you think they were greater sinners
than anyone in Jerusalem?
No, but I tell you, unless you repent
you will all likewise perish. 

Was that it?
Or was it the story of Job?
An honest man trying his best
when all of his hard-won security
was brought down in a sudden calamity
the hour a building fell on all his family.
His servants broke the news to him by email.
Job watched, disbelieving, on TV
his life unravelling in front of him –
weeping in the ruins of his city,
distraught, bewildered, desolate, enraged.
We rushed to comfort Job, and so
we should be careful of our feelings,
not to confuse our sympathy with
the substance of his lasting grief,
as one of those who live now
on the legacy of that unthinkable change.
Of course it summoned up
the ghosts of our own grievings, whether real
or from our worst imagining; but this
is suffering by proxy: it will have
no answers when God asks his dreadful questions
out of the whirlwind of Job’s despair. 

Was that it?
Or was it Nehemiah,
who would not be defeated  
while everyone else sat in their living rooms
watching the TV pundits play I told you so
and prove that nothing could be done?
Nehemiah went out to rebuild the walls
with courage and shrewd management,
armed guards on every corner
keeping watch against a new attack –
and out of so much ruin and despair
he forged a new community
stronger and wiser than it ever was before. 

Was that it?
It was all of these stories, and something more;
for after the accounting of the dead,
now the insurance claims are settled,
and the markets are back to their normal jittery selves,
we have all seen what Hell looks like. In its long shadow
we are nervious of tall buildings, fly less often
and listen doubtfully to our leaders’ words
as they struggle to fill their own shoes.
Four planes flew out of Pandora’s box:
and when men armed with razor blades can bring
the whole wide world up to a juddering halt
we know too much and care too little
to believe that it would be the last time.
The big game of Monopoly is over.
The losers’ tantrums have become too dangerous.
Even before our anger cooled we saw
the moral high ground was just
a pile of smoking rubble. Jesus knelt 
and wrote with his index finger in
the white dust of Manhattan:
Let him who is without sin
launch the first missile.

Who is our enemy
and what can we fight him with?
Where are our allies? Where was God
on September the Eleventh? He was begging
in old clothes in the subway
beneath the World Trade Centre.
He was homeless in Gaza,
imprisoned in Afghanistan,
starving in Somalia,
dying of Aids in an Angolan slum,
and boarding a plane unwittingly in Boston,
heading for a meeting on the 110th floor.
When the time came he stretched his arms out once again to take
the dreadful impact that would pierce his side,
his last message on his fading cell phone
once more to ask forgiveness for them all, before
his body fell under the weight of so much evil.
The shock waves drove us out into 
a boundless conflict, united by this common enemy –
sin, that we never dreamed
could bring such devastation, trusting 
no-one merely human now we know 
the kind of story that it really is. This is war.
We line our weapons up: faith, hope, obedience,
prayer, forgiveness, justice;
the explosive power of love. 


The more widely published shorter version of this poem is here. The tenth anniversary version is here. Some background is here.

Tower of Babel  cf Genesis 11, 1-8.

"Come, let us build a city...name for ourselves."  cf Genesis 11 4.

"Today we will go...and make money"  cf James 4 13.

"You do not know what will happen today...vanishes."  cf James 4 14.

Four aircraft of the Apocalypse  cf Revelation 6, 1-8.

new Jerusalem cf Revelation 21 2.

"I brought you into a fertile land..." cf Jeremiah 2 7.

"So flee for safety...even terrible destruction." cf Jeremiah 4 6.

"Where then are the gods...can save you." cf Jeremiah 2 28.

Slaughter of innocents  cf Matthew 2, 16-18.

A tower fell in Siloam  cf Luke 13, 4-5.

A building fell on all his family cf Job  1 19.

whirlwind of Job's despair  cf Job 38 1.

armed guards on every corner  cf Nehemiah 4 13.

Jesus kneels..."launch the first missile" cf John 8, 6-7.

homeless in Gaza  "Eyeless in Gaza" is a reference to Samson from Milton's Samson Agonistes, used by Aldous Huxley as the title of a novel.

ask forgiveness of them cf Luke 23 34.

pierce his side  cf John 19 34.