Of Terror and Trust
This editorial appeared in Liturgy News in the aftermath of the September 11 attacks in the United States.
Now, as we witness the invasion of Ukraine and the devastation that is unfolding, it is timely again to revisit
the place of the liturgy in moments of tragedy and confusion.
Listen, God, to my plea,
do not ignore my cry.
Listen and answer,
I shake with grief
at the furore of my enemies.
Psalm 55:2-3
One of the first responses around the world to the Attack on America of 11 September was to pray. How does liturgical prayer work in the face of major
tragedy?
Liturgical words give us a voice. A people stands before God bewildered, confused, scared. Where do you begin in the midst of devastation? A community
turns to the gestures and symbols of the liturgy, the words of Scripture, the psalms, and the prayers of the Missal to find a voice. With the television images burned on our mind, searing the soul, we cry out in lament. Where are you, God? Why have you abandoned us? We cannot pretend before God. In
trust we expose with honesty the state of our soul. Sometimes we are too polite in our personal prayer. The liturgy gives us a strong voice because we pray
with Christ.
My heart is pounding,
I can feel the touch of death.
Terror holds me in its grip,
trembling seizes me.
Psalm 5 5:5-6
do not ignore my cry.
Listen and answer,
I shake with grief
at the furore of my enemies.
Psalm 55:2-3
One of the first responses around the world to the Attack on America of 11 September was to pray. How does liturgical prayer work in the face of major
tragedy?
Liturgical words give us a voice. A people stands before God bewildered, confused, scared. Where do you begin in the midst of devastation? A community
turns to the gestures and symbols of the liturgy, the words of Scripture, the psalms, and the prayers of the Missal to find a voice. With the television images burned on our mind, searing the soul, we cry out in lament. Where are you, God? Why have you abandoned us? We cannot pretend before God. In
trust we expose with honesty the state of our soul. Sometimes we are too polite in our personal prayer. The liturgy gives us a strong voice because we pray
with Christ.
My heart is pounding,
I can feel the touch of death.
Terror holds me in its grip,
trembling seizes me.
Psalm 5 5:5-6
The liturgy lets us pray in solidarity with others. It is the prayer of the Church on behalf of all humanity. Those who pray the words of the psalms in the
Liturgy of the Hours are familiar with this. It may be, for example, that we pray the verses of Psalm 55 (above) when our life is sweet. Then we call to
mind those who are in trouble and we pray, in the name of the Church, in solidarity with those who suffer. And when our minds are filled with images of
people falling from buildings, fleeing in clouds of ash, numb with anxiety for those they love, our presence in prayer before God becomes an intercession for them, and our cry, the cry of the Church, expresses the grief and anguish of the people of our time. Rejoice with those who rejoice and be sad with those in sorrow (Rom 12: 15 ). Or we could say, be afraid with those who are in terror and be angry with those who seek vengeance.
Death to them all!
Let them fall tnto Sheol alive,
for evil fills their homes
and lives among them ...
0 God, hurl the bloodthirsty
into the pit of destruction.
Psalm 55:16,24
With holy psalms such as this, the liturgy makes us vulnerable, because we recognise that the evil in human hearts is seeded in our own hearts. Acknowledging the violence within allows God in liturgy to transfigure us. Hatred is quenched by mercy and vengeance gives way to forgiveness. At morning Mass a day after the Attack on America, the readings set down in the Lectionary were amazing. We could not believe our ears. The Lord has forgiven you,· now you must do the same. Over all these clothes ... put on love (Col 3: 12-17). Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who treat you badly (Luke 6:27-38). Then a couple of days later, we celebrated the feast of the Triumph of the Cross, followed the next day by the commemoration of Our Lady of Sorrows. The liturgy offered us a way through, because it put us in touch with the central mystery of Jesus' transforming death and resurrection. I do not pretend that the transformation is easy: it is a brave counter-cultural act to affirm the power of love in the face of terror. The liturgy tests our faith. The liturgy rallies us to be prophetic.
God hears my cry,
brings me to safety
when the battle is raging
and my foes are many ...
If you are faithful
God will not let you fall.
Psalm 55:19,23
So finally, liturgy brings us into the reassuring presence of God. It is not just a compilation of our words, actions and thoughts. Liturgy is an act of openness which allows God to transform us and our world. From the embers of despair and desolation, God stirs the fires of new hope. In the face of human frailty, we receive a gift of super-human strength; in our bitterness and anger, the heart to forgive; amidst the cries for vengeance, the conviction that love triumphs over all.
brings me to safety
when the battle is raging
and my foes are many ...
If you are faithful
God will not let you fall.
Psalm 55:19,23
So finally, liturgy brings us into the reassuring presence of God. It is not just a compilation of our words, actions and thoughts. Liturgy is an act of openness which allows God to transform us and our world. From the embers of despair and desolation, God stirs the fires of new hope. In the face of human frailty, we receive a gift of super-human strength; in our bitterness and anger, the heart to forgive; amidst the cries for vengeance, the conviction that love triumphs over all.
© Editorial - Liturgy News September 2001
By Tom Elich
The original edition of Liturgy News can be viewed by clicking here.
Images from Unsplash and Pixabay. Used under license/with permission.
By Tom Elich
The original edition of Liturgy News can be viewed by clicking here.
Images from Unsplash and Pixabay. Used under license/with permission.