I truly agonized this week over what to say ,or what to pray, as we mark the 25th anniversary of September 11, 2001. The moments of that day are still as vivid in my memory as if they happened yesterday. I was interviewing a nurse for the parish nurse position when my husband called to tell me what had happened. I remember waiting for the school bus that afternoon so I could tell my young children they were safe, that no one would harm them. I remember sitting outside that evening with my husband in a strange, heavy stillness, listening to military fighter jets returning to the local airfield. And I remember sitting on the chancel that Sunday, waiting for the service to begin, when a very elderly member of our congregation walked down the center aisle with his shoulders drooped , his face stoic, and handed me a piece of paper. His nephew, a firefighter with the Staten Island Ladder Company, had jumped on a truck heading into Manhattan as his shift ended and had not been heard from since. I still cry when I recall that moment.

I remember the anger, grief, and pain that gripped our culture in the wake of that event. But I also remember, with deep gratitude, the grace, the hope, the community spirit, and the love of God that carried and guided us through that dark season.

Those of us who were adults in 2001 each carry our own story of that day. I invite you to take some time on September 11 to share your story with someone else — to touch the places of pain and grief, but also to tell the stories of grace and love that held us up.

I could not write a prayer this week that captured all that need to be said. The following prayer was written by Jill Duffield, Presbyterian Outlook. It is used with permission. 

God of grace and God of glory, on this anniversary of the terrorist attacks of 9/11, grant us the wisdom to remember the lessons from that tragic day that make us more Christ-like. Drive away from us any vengeful urges, any hate-filled sentiment, any whisper from within or without that goads us to return evil for evil.

As we look back and recall where we were, who was with us and how we felt that fateful day, may those vivid memories compel us to acts of kindness, words of love and demonstrations of community. May the myriad of images of helpers – firefighters, police officers, pastors, office workers, ordinary citizens – be the icons that inspire us to be helpers, too. May texts and voicemails of “I love you” and “You are everything to me” assure us that love always has the last word, but that we should never wait to say it.

As the world still heaves with violence and war seems to never end, assure us, Prince of Peace, that ultimately crying and mourning will be no more. In the midst of suffering, our own and that of the world, speak again, Creator God, your performative Word of life and its goodness.

We pray for those whose lives were forever changed on September 11, 2001. Grant comfort to those who grieve. Strengthen those who struggle with questions that remain unanswered. Assure those who worry that they should have said or done something differently that you gather up all the fragments of our lives, bless and use them in ways that nourish.

We thank you, Lord of all, for the people who every day put their lives in danger in order to protect and serve others. We pray for all first responders, for medical personnel, police officers, firefighters and others who never know what a shift at work will bring on any given day. Grant them wisdom, courage and rest.

As we consider that fall day years ago, grant us the ability to cling to the examples of goodness that emerged out of the horror: strangers banding together to thwart more carnage, people lining up to donate blood, congregations opening their doors to offer respite for anyone and everyone, people offering comfort and care to those they knew and those they’d never met. May these acts of mercy emulated in our lives be the ripple that reverberates through history, revealing your sure power to bring redemption, reconciliation and resurrection out of the depths of death and despair.

We are grateful for the new life born since the attacks  – for those beloved children who don’t remember that day. We give thanks for the saints who were with us then, but have since gone on to eternal life.

When we mark anniversaries of sorrow, corporately or alone, may they be occasions to discern what truly matters, let go of what really doesn’t and recognize your grace, Almighty God, that pervades it all.

In the name of Jesus, the light of the world, the Prince of Peace, the Good Shepherd, our friend and our helper, we pray. Amen.