Thursday, September 10, 2020

Remembering Unity

My experience living in hurricane territory is that, when God wants to get the attention of people in the Gulf Coast—to turn them toward Him and to get them to serve one another—He sends a hurricane. We had a big awakening call in 2017 with Hurricane Harvey, so we were all relieved last month when Hurricane Laura took an eastward turn and missed us entirely—putting us in the preferable position of offering help, instead of suffering the need for help.

Nineteen years ago, a catastrophe brought us together. The whole country. We were temporarily unified—in a good and positive way in the wake of suffering.

So, looking back on that 9/11 catastrophe nineteen years ago, what did unity look like?


"Out of the Ashes," by Ken Turner

Earlier this week, one of my favorite artists, a friend, Ken Turner, shared his different versions of “Out of the Ashes” on Facebook—my favorite 9/11 image, which I share with friends every year at this time (and I carry a small copy with me that he gave me after a tour of his studio many years ago). He was originally commissioned to do the painting by Randy Dean (I think that’s the former NY football player) “to commemorate the loss and heroic sacrifices that took place on 9/11 and the weeks following.” Ken finished the painting about four months after the event.

There are various giclee versions (high quality original-like copies). There are three of the original version. One went to the FDNY (Fire Department of New York), one to Reagan International Airport, and the third hangs in the George H. W. Bush Presidential Library in Texas.

But when the painting was revealed at a reception in New York City, there were requests for additional versions. The NYPD (New York Police Department) asked Ken to paint a flag raising specifically for theirs, which now hangs in their museum.


NYPD version of "Out of the Ashes, by Ken Turner


And the Port Authority Police requested that he add, among the crowd in the painting, the faces of some of the 37 of their officers who died that day; he was able to include 10 of them. That giclee hangs in their headquarters.

When I look at this painting—any version of it—I remember. Not just the horror of the day, but the resolve, the unity, and the love that followed. People got in their cars and drove across the country to NYC, and stayed for days or weeks, working to rescue, clear debris, and do whatever they could to help. People set up funds, and offered love and support in any way they could find. We all said we would never forget.

I have briefly visited New York, but I don’t think I could adapt to that foreign land today. Large numbers have never even met a conservative (that they’re aware of). They define people like me—a person who loves the freedom, prosperity, and civilization that come from a righteous people following our Constitution in a free economy—as hateful, racist, bigoted, and whatever other label for evil they tack on at any given time.

They don’t remember how we loved and prayed and cared for them in their time of need.

Particularly we all—Americans everywhere, and many people around the world—honored and respected the police and firefighters of NYC who responded to help, running toward the danger, and some of them giving their lives.

Ken Turner says the title “Out of the Ashes” was given to the painting by Randy Dean, who commissioned it. But, in Ken’s mind there was always a subtitle: “No Greater Love Has Man Than This.”[i]

They deserve honor. Not just for that day, but for every day when they have put on the uniform and gone out to risk their lives in service of the people. These first responders do that all over the country.

But today, instead of being honored, they are maligned and defunded, even in one weird city in Texas.


A response to the Austin, TX, decision to defund their police.
KXAN photo/Richie Bowes, from here

There’s something really heartbreaking about seeing people this far apart, people who were unified, at least for a time, after that unforgettable date. And now we can’t even agree that what the police do is a good thing. As on 9/11, the enemies of civilization tear down and destroy. Then the truly civilized come in to rescue and clear away the debris.

These are irreconcilable differences, unless there is repentance—a change of heart and a change of direction—from those doing the hating, and the destruction in cities across the land. We can’t compromise with their evil.

Tough times, even catastophes, are all around us. That can mean simply ongoing pain and misery, or that can mean a reminder to turn to God, in a spirit of repentance.

I expect if someone is so far gone into savagery that they loot, and destroy, and even kill, and then call that good, they might not wake up in the face of real suffering. But for those who will turn to the side of good and light, I pray they will come to that side with an absolute minimum of apocalyptic suffering.

We don’t want another 9/11 like that one in 2001. But, whatever comes, people on the side of good and light—and the police, as a profession, are among them—will run toward the danger to help. It’s who they are.

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