Tuesday morning, I drove to church, and only there, did I learn what was happening. A TV was on in the office.
As we watched, in stunned silence, tears flowing, I felt a great, horrible, hideous, anger ... "nuke 'em" I thought ... maybe even said it aloud.
By Sunday morning, when we were scheduled to celebrate the church's 50th anniversary, and some of our guests were unable to make the journey because of the airline shut-down, I had to preach and I did.
I don't recall how I stitched together the joyous celebration of a 50th anniversary, with a full congregation of guests who were able to gather by car from afar, and the tragedy of 9.11.
I recall saying something about restraint and trust ... not giving into the darkest thoughts occasioned by the present terror.
And I remember a young woman at the door afterward scolding me for not damning the Muslims.
She and her husband never again returned to the church.
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