Standing in the Newark, Liberty airport last evening, scanning the New York City skyline, I thought of what it must have looked like four years ago this weekend. Surely there were travellers standing in this spot watching smoke pour out of the towers like two giant smokestacks in the middle of the most congested city in America. A Continental employee said that the airport came to a standstill as everyone just 'watched in stunned silence'. No questions. No crying (at least at first). Just a sinking sensation that comes to you when your day or world has just had a violent interruption. Everyone feels that at some time. A person who you love deeply is taken from you. You get a call in a crowd and though your world has slammed into a wall, everyone around moves about, their world intact. But in this airport, four years ago, everyone's world came crashing down with the towers. Anxiety is that emotion that says, "Everything is great, for now." As if we find our security in our routine and when that routine is interfered with, our security is gone.
We find strength and hope in the promises of Jesus and in the compassion of others. I found both on Thursday night as I attended a memorial service in the town square of Princeton, NJ. A crowd of people walking in from all corners, decended upon the square at dusk. The lights of the shops and the street lamps, the slow moving couples hand in hand, families riding vintage bicycles, an older man slowly walking his dog, all combine to make one feel as though he were in a Terry Redlin painting. I take a spot on an old wooden park bench. Candles are passed out and lit. A stillness fills the square and the sound of crickets come out of the bushes as the air is cool and the wind is still. An older black man with silvery gray hair and a wrinkled yet warm face takes a microphone. His deep baritone winds up like an ancient organ coming to life at the hands of a master. He sings. "I'd rather have Jesus than silver or gold; I'd rather be His than have riches untold: I'd rather have Jesus than houses or lands. I'd rather be led by His nail-pierced hand. I'd rather have Jesus than men's applause; I'd rather be faithful to His dear cause; I'd rather have Jesus than worldwide fame. I'd rather be true to His holy name.
Than to be the king of a vast domain or be held in sin's dread sway.
I'd rather have Jesus than anything this world affords today."

Amen.