Date: 09/13/2001
From: Rev. Susanne Nazian, consulting minister for the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Venice
Re: newsletter column

As I write this column, it is the morning of the third day. The church office has been abandoned early on that first day, abandoned after discovering the awful truth of the morning's events of September 11, 2001. Abandoned after futile attempts to work while hearing nothing but the grim reports. Abandoned to go home, to assure myself of the safety of my children; one of whom is in a school plagued by bomb threats in recent weeks. I want to see television, to see pictures and to confirm the terrible reality.

And it is confirmed: in the car on the radio, in the eerie silence and emptiness around Tampa International Airport, in the traffic jam that notifies us of troop movements onto MacDill Air Force Base , in the haunting videos of a nation in panic and a nation in mourning. Things are normal in my home. The new screen room is going up, and the pool guys are here to begin the preparation of the ground. No planes fly to and from the nearby airport. Allis too startlingly quiet. No sounds, no conversation, only the radios outside-one turned to a Spanish language channel and one to an English-and the sound of the television inside. One by one, my family arrives home. My husband home early when the University of South Florida evacuated, one son off work, my son and his friend home from school, my daughter from work. The contrast of the construction and the destruction is too much to bear. Workers are worried about their children, and I promise not to tell they've left early to find their own comfort.

And this morning, the third day, as Americans search for victims and for answers amid the rubble; today there is fresh news. News of the terrorist organization, and news too of the attacks on Muslims and Islamic Centers here in our own country, in our own cities. A fresh, but all too expected, grief. A call, whether we really believe or not, upon the God of many names. And in grief, a message, a message of hope without which we cannot continue to live. I firmly believe that as Unitarian Universalists we carry a message of respect for the dignity and worth of all peoples of all faiths that when spoken can serve our nation and the world at times of crisis and upheaval.

In the midst of this crisis, let us join together as people of all faiths to condemn these murders and these senseless retaliations on the innocent worshippers of Allah as contrary to the teachings of the great religions of humanity and to the concept of human rights and dignity as we understand them. We call for a state and a nation where violence can never again be seen as a source of justice and where the love of neighbor taught in all faiths prevails over the stress and pain of these moments.

We join our Muslim brothers and sisters of good will as we pray for the healing of the families of these men ,women and children who were murdered, for the healing of our nation, for the healing of the human family; torn as it is by the highly charged emotional context of this tragedy. The fabric of world community has long been torn by these political and religious differences; today that fabric lies in shred sat our feet.
In our grief, we must begin to mend that fabric, to bind up the wounds that keep us divided. We call upon men and women of good will of all faiths, and of no faith, to refuse to tolerate the violence of murder and physical injury such as has happened in the United States this week, to refuse also to tolerate the violence to the human spirit that manifests itself in senseless retaliation, in harassment, in threats and in destruction and defacement of property. What we need, whether we are Christian or Jew or Muslim is not violence, or hatred or fear; but compassion, love and wisdom to guide us through these troubled times. My prayer for the families of the victims, for the country and for ourselves in the days and weeks ahead is that love, wisdom, compassion and understanding will find their way to the forefront , and that whether or not we agree, we will at least learn each other's humanity.

We had dinner on the new patio last night. Life is going on as before, and not as before. There is no "normal" to return to. Normal is what is now, and it is the task before us to learn to live in this new world that has been thrust upon us. It is my hope that you will all join me in this community to bind up the wounds, to bridge the divisions and to make gentler the life of this world.