We watched in horror as both towers lit up, then fell into a cloud of smoke and ash. Then we gathered in the chapel with hundreds who came to pray. I asked the people to name the folks in their hearts and their concern as our prayer before God. The chapel rang with the precious names of loved ones.
After 9/11, an incredible respect for life wove together the disparate humanity that worked the edges of the New York abyss. Iron workers, rescue teams, volunteers, chaplains, tourists, stricken loved ones—all were woven together in the solidarity of citizenship of those regarded by God as “for a little while lower than the angels.”