9-11 changed everything for me.
As I looked into the horrified eyes of the businessmen, who decided jumping to their death was their best option, I was horrified to see myself.
As I looked into the eyes of the men who decided to visit us with evil, I was horrified to see myself.
As I turned to my faith to tell me I was different than them I was horrified to see that I was the same.
I saw only ruin – the ruin of the partitions I’d been forced to erect in my mind to protect my faith from destructive doubts – which all came rushing to the forefront of the battle for my soul to annihilate my faith.
The silence was deafening.
There were no explanations.
There were no answers.
There was no hope.
Nothing.
Then emerged out of the smoldering ashes the heroes who were running up stairs against a torrent of people running down, when the towers collapsed.
Common people. Good people, with families, like mine. Firemen, police officers and construction workers braved the twisted burning remnants of the World Trade Center, in a selfless effort to save their fallen comrades.
I recognized those brave men writing their social security numbers on their arms, knowing there was a good chance they would not survive. Those were the same brave faces of my forefathers who stormed the beaches of Normandy, knowing there was a good chance they would not survive, but going in anyways – armed mainly with the faith that their sacrifice would be worth making the world a better place.
I saw myself in their brave eyes.
It wasn’t divine intervention that saved us from ourselves during the holocaust, it was the best aspect of humanity – the willingness of individuals to sacrifice their lives in an effort to make ours better.
No savior helped us survive and to heal after 9-11, it was human compassion. When everything else was stripped away, human compassion survived and saved my faith in humanity.
The best aspects of humanity overcame the worst that day and in the days that would follow. Although the faith I had prior to 9-11 plummeted to the ground along with my brothers, out of those ruins emerged a new faith – a faith in the common decency of my fellow man.
In dark despair a small light flickered in the distance and it was all I needed.
The brutal act that had annihilated the partitions in my mind separating faith from doubt, had also destroyed the barriers I had erected between me and my compassion for my fellow men, between me and my conscience, between me and my humanity, between me and my courage to do right, regardless of the sacrifice, with the faith that whatever sacrifice I have to offer will make the world a better place for the ones I love.
I’ve found peace.
That is all I need.