Dear Friends,
It was a Tuesday morning, not a cloud in the sky. The day started like any other, and yet it would close like no other in my living memory. The cascade of grief and disbelief, terror and loss would strike within minutes on Sept. 11, 2001 – at 8:46 a.m., 9:03 a.m., 9:37 a.m. and 10:03 a.m. And for those of us who remember, we can recall the very moment when we heard the news of planes plummeting into the north and south towers of the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and a field in Pennsylvania. Though 25 years have passed since that day, it takes little effort to bring back the memories, the loss, the bewilderment and the horror. It takes little to remember the bravery of first responders, police officers, firefighters, paramedics and ordinary citizens rushing in to help. And the many who would not return home.
Today begins with lament. This tone was perfectly set by Yo-Yo Ma playing Johann Sebastian Bach’s Cello Suite No. 2 in D minor, a piece that is sombre and grave. As he played, the names of those who lost their lives were read aloud. It would take hours to read them all. We lament not just the loss of life but the loss of innocence, the rise in suspicion and fear of neighbour, the escalation of racism and the hardening of borders between nations – and the loss of trust within ourselves in the aftermath. It is a reality that we continue to grapple with.
At the same time, in the darkness of that moment 25 years ago came stories of care, love and compassion. One of the best known, of course, took place in Gander, Newfoundland. When 38 planes were rerouted to Gander to ensure safety and to clear the skies, the community of 10,000 people welcomed approximately 7,000 air passengers and crew. The people of Gander and surrounding communities dug deep to offer meals, housing, clothing, support and comfort. The local arena would become the world’s largest walk-in refrigerator to store enough food to last four or five days. In the face of terror came welcome and hospitality.
Holding lament in prayerful tension with hope, compassion and love is what we are called to do every day as people of faith. This is not an easy thing. Sometimes it is tempting to throw up our hands in frustration and despair. And yet, I am conscious of the ministries that take place right across our Diocese, in large communities and small, where the hungry are being fed, where the grieving are being tended, where the isolated are being shown community, where the weak are being given strength, where the peacemakers are being supported, where ordinary faithful Christians rush in to help the hurting to find their way home.
You make it happen, every day. Your witness makes a difference, every day. As we start up this new “year” in the Church, I urge you to keep on going.
I am so grateful for you.
Yours in Christ,
The Right Reverend Andrew Asbil
Bishop of Toronto
