Volume CXXXIII, Number 2 September 14, 2001 f

Gather together in their name
Genevieve Creedon

I sat down to write this article early Tuesday morning. I wrote three sentences before deciding to check my e-mail. My brother had sent me a note. As I opened it, I expected to read his usual three-sentence email. Instead, I encountered the words: "the world trade center just got hit by a plane. I saw it from my window."

At first, I thought it was impossible. He must have been hallucinating. I scrolled through several news websites and saw nothing even remotely close to what my brother claimed to have seen, but sure enough, ten minutes later, I was being called to come see the television. My brother was right.

Perhaps it is because I am from New York, perhaps it is because I know lots of people whose lives have undoubtedly been changed by the loss of a family member or friend, or perhaps it is simply because events such as Tuesday's tend to stir patriotism in the bosom of complacency. Whatever it is, I have found myself to be more angry at this attack than I have ever been before.

I, like most other people, have sat stunned and confused about what seems to be an inexplicable act of terrorism. As I sit, writing this, I can hear the television down the hall announcing that war may be impending. For a few seconds, I think war might just be justifiable. I want revenge. I want someone to be responsible. I want to be able to blame someone for causing all this pain, and I want those who are responsible to have some viable reason to justify their actions. In other words, I want this tragedy to make sense.

I am usually a pacifist. Revenge is usually an absurd concept to me. Anger is usually easy for me to let go of. I'm trying to understand why all of this has happened; I'm trying to decide why I'm feeling so upset by an event that theoretically isn't personal.

Maybe the fact that I have walked the same floors all the people who died walked on has something to do with it. Maybe the fact that my sister's husband works in the Trade Center and just happened not to be there at the time of its destruction has something to do with it. Maybe the fact that so many other people's families weren't spared by such a lucky twist of fate has something to do with it. Maybe I even feel guilty about being so far away from home so that I can't be with those people who have been more closely affected by this tragedy. Mostly, I think my reactions to the unwarranted deaths and pain are triggered by a complete inability to understand.

The question "why?" is certainly the one on everyone's lips. I haven't even bothered asking it, because there is no answer anyone could come up with that would satisfy me. There is nothing so offensive or threatening that could ever warrant killing a person in my eyes, never mind hundreds.

My only rationalization is that the people responsible do not understand what it is to be human. They don't realize the pain that they have caused individuals throughout the world. That they know how much pain they have caused on a national level is unquestionable, and it seems rather obvious that causing that pain to the nation was the whole idea.

There is little doubt in my mind that this week's events will be permanently imprinted in our minds and our hearts. They are events that may take credit for tainting the idealism and faithful optimism of our generation, among other catastrophic consequences.

And yet, in spite of the anger, the pain, the sorrow, and the frustration, the word that has found permanence in my mind is forgiveness. When we gather together to pray for the dead and the devastated families, we should remember to forgive the perpetrators of this horror. Forgive them for being so full of hate. Forgive them for ending so many lives. Forgive them for hurting us in ways we don't even understand.

But, how can we forgive them?

I don't know how. I only know that we must.