What We Learn From the Convergence of 9-11, the Syria Decision, and the Jewish Days of Repentance

My photo at Seattle's Safeco Field taken 9-11-05

It's a Jewish principle that when things come in threes, they're symbols for past, present and future.

Today is the convergence of three emotionally-charged events, and the "principle of threes" seems to hold.

With the twelfth anniversary of the 9-11 attacks on the World Trade Center, Pentagon and United Flight 93, we recall the shock of our vulnerability, and continue to mourn the horrendous losses perpetrated by al-Qaeda suicide bombers. This is our reminder of the past, even as it influences our lives daily via ongoing security precautions and suspicion.

In the present, politicians and pundits mull the best response to Syria's use of poison gas on its populace. Secretary of State John Kerry says he'll meet with Russia to work out an agreement in which Syria would surrender its gas stores. This after his urging a "limited air strike" that Pres. Obama pushed as recently as last night: "The purpose of this strike would be to deter Assad from using chemical weapons, to degrade his regime’s ability to use them, and to make clear to the world that we will not tolerate their use," the President broadcast.

Pres. Obama justifying 'limited air strike' on Syria, 9-10-13

Meanwhile, both Republicans and Democrats remain divided on whether an expensive gesture so long after Assad's Aug. 21 chemical attack would accomplish anything other than repeat the displeasure Pres. Obama has already expressed. However, now that Russia has Syria's acquiescence on the possibility of relinquishing its chemical weapons, the President's argument for his "limited air strike" seems wimpy and even irrelevant.

The present includes tension and potential for frightening--or peaceful--consequences.

The third simultaneous occurrence is the Jewish "Ten Days of Repentance," in which we search our souls, redress our wrongs and beg God and those we harmed for forgiveness. We hold that certain times of year are imbued with spiritual characteristics, and these days just before Yom Kippur, the most fateful in our calendar, brim with intensity, not only because of our personal evaluation and correction, but because our sincerity and effort will determine events in the coming year. In other words, our contrition and resolve to do better now will influence what happens to us in the coming months: the future.

Today is an opportunity to mourn and learn from 9-11; to discern carefully and ask for guidance as law-makers make the decision about Syria; and to right our personal courses in anticipation and preparation for consequences in the future.

Here in the Northwest, summer's heat lingers, even as the leaves on maples burnish. The beauty of God's physical world is vibrant and apparent. His influence on non-material events is easy to dismiss, but just as pertinent. Perhaps some sensitivity to the confluence of the physical and the spiritual can improve the chances that these three coalesce for the best.

September 11--Never the Same

The date September 11 carries a unique undercurrent of sadness.  The day that forever eliminated Americans' sense of comfort and confidence taught us something we had never considered: that we as a nation could be despised and attacked merely for our philosophy, what we represent, rather than for something we've done.

That day in 2001 remains etched in each person's mind.  Living on the west coast, we were not awake yet when the attack began. We received a phone call prior to dawn from a relative in Israel who alerted us; we turned on the radio. I recall the adrenelin, following with the country the collapse of the first tower and then the second. The planes down, into the Pentagon and a field in Pennsylvania. Each of us felt personally threatened; we shared a collective fear, the impenetrable became vulnerable.

I was one of millions of mothers who woke up their children for school that day heavy with the task of conveying the news.  My daughters were silent; my second-grade son hugged me, cried and wanted to do something to help the situation. He decided to begin diligently wearing his "tsit-tsit," the square-cornered undershirt with "strings" observant Jewish men wear, something he heretofore resisted--a major commitment, since he attended public school at the time, where his strings brought taunts.

The national unity was inspiring, and American flags were everywhere. Slowly, however, in the intervening years, they've disappeared.  About six months ago, the "God Bless America" flag magnet on the back of my car finally disintegrated too much to remain. I was one of the last to display one; why are there no such decorations available in stores now?

Because time fades the feelings, dividing us once again.  But it is only because of the success of intelligence, security and military efforts that we have not been attacked again.  Now we know better: we are a target, and those who would destroy our civilization are even now planning ever more inventive and unexpected means to obliterate as many Americans as possible.  Theirs is not a politically motivated effort--the World Trade Center had been attacked before, but we failed to take it seriously.  The attack on 9-11 was at least a decade in the making, a time period in which both Democrats and Republicans were at our nation's helm.

We need to remember--not just today--that the instigators of 9-11 continue to plot our demise with the goal of a theocracy that is repressive and universal.  Questions of gay marriage, abortion, immigration, government health insurance and just about any other issue on the public agenda today, are laughable irrelevancies to the thousands of religious zealots who are willing to sacrifice their lives and their children's lives to force allegiance to the system (sharia) they fervently believe is not an option but a necessity because God wills it.

They tout a culture in which women are accessories to men, subject to barbaric surgeries so that they never experience sexual pleasure.  Where education for females is suppressed, and their options in life limited to a tiny shrouded corner of the world.  The radical Islamists who are at this moment training to attack again remain a threat; we cannot get cocky about the security we have enjoyed under President Bush.

If there's any frustration among Obama-ites, it's with the President's continued commitment to anti-terrorist efforts in Afghanistan.  But I recall reading, at the time of Pres. Bush's exit from the White House, his belief that Pres. Obama will have to maintain this stand: "He'll be receiving the same briefings I did," Pres. Bush noted, and so any president would understand that the real choices are few.

Our weekly local newspaper features a "man on the street" interview, and this week respondents were asked what they thought of Pres. Obama's Day of Remembrance and Service.  Some said there were too many holidays; others thought it wouldn't mean much; some agreed it was just fine.  I'm actually glad that Pres. Obama is elevating this date to a special day, and that it answers the need my second-grade son had on the real 9-11 to make a difference.  The president could have made some inspirational remark and let it slide, but he challenged each of us to do two things:  remember (grieve and understand the threat remains), and act, because we do hold responsibility for the state of the world.

Beyond that, we need to see that not all religions are equal.  Our Judaism inspired my son to wear his tsit-tsit; the religion of terrorists inspires children to hate others in the world.  But beyond the intellectual analysis of dominant religions, we need to get personal and use means of our own religions--prayer, charity, and for us, more fully embracing Jewish law and study--to combat the spiritual intensity of those on the other side.  This is a physical war, clearly, but it is just as much a war of intangibles, and we must not neglect that battle front.

Rosh Hashana starts in one week. I need to get busy.

One Response to 9-11

It's obligatory to comment on the seventh anniversary of 9-11, a day that cannot be forgotten by anyone who lived through it, as it changed the world as we knew it.

Like the Kennedy assassination in 1963, becoming aware of the terrorist attack on our own soil was a moment so imbued with emotion and adrenaline that it becomes frozen in consciousness. We each have our own stories, but I want to share one aspect of mine.

Because we live in the Northwest--i.e. on the west coast--we were not yet up, and certainly not tied into the news when the attack occurred, so we were shocked when we received a phone call from a family member living in Jerusalem. We do not have a television, but listening to the events unfold via radio commentators was terrifying--an experience we shared with everyone else in our nation. (I consider myself fortunate to be spared those searing images.)

After I heard the awful descriptions, it was my job to awaken my 9-year-old son for school. I came to his bedside, and in the protective way each mother intuits, gently spoke: "Something terrible has happened to our country." I told him that evil people--terrorists--had attacked New York and Washington DC. My son sensed my controlled distress, hugged me and we cried together.

But then came the issue of how to respond. The Jewish approach is to look inward, to see hugely negative events not only as an expression of evil on the part of the perpetrators, but as an indicator of our own failures. The need then is to come closer to God. "What should I do?" my son asked, as we both felt helpless.

"Take on a new mitzvah," I told him. "Wear tzit-tzit." My son had resisted wearing the traditional four-cornered undershirt that Jewish men wear as commanded in the bible (the fringes hanging at the corners remind them of Torah obligations). Usually little boys start wearing tzit-tzit at age three, and my son certainly had several in his drawer. But he complained, and hadn't worn them regularly--until 9-11.

Without any protest, he wore his tzit-tzit daily under his regular shirt, tucked into his pants as well as an active kid can keep them tucked in, to public school--where he was often teased when they became visible (He had always worn his kipa, the traditional head-covering, or a baseball cap). We both understood that this was a way to address the relationship between us and God; to show Him we're conscious of the cosmic impact of even small personal behaviors.

Of course, prayer was also appropriate--lots of it. And certainly support for those in a position to respond militarily to remove the physical threat. We donated to charities that aided the victims; I put a magnet on the back of my car showing an American flag with the words "God bless America." Funny, that magnet is still displayed proudly on my minivan, but the similar stickers and magnets that proliferated around that time seem to have disappeared from the other vehicles I see on the road. We say "never forget," but we've removed our symbols of solidarity as indeed, the urgency and unity of that emotional time has faded.

But beyond those responses, we could do something personal to acknowledge God's role in shaping every event. And our role in fulfilling what He wants us Jews to do.

I wish I could say that my son considers the mitzvah he undertook that day (and continued faithfully for about 5 years) to be something integral to his soul; something that connects him with that time and place, and the need to be close to God. But now that he's 16, and (since he's post-bar-mitzvah age) required to wear tzit-tzit, it's become a nag-fest to get him to wear them. He goes to a Jewish high school, where it's normal to follow Jewish law, and yet, at this time of life, being "cool"--or, more correctly--"hot" seems to trump his religiosity on that issue.

Even if I fail in motivating him to comply with that Jewish responsibility, I hope that I conveyed to my son that at times of vulnerability and anguish, we should evaluate ourselves, and approach God--as well as kick the tuchus of anyone who dares breach this greatest nation on God's green earth.