Tomorrow is 25 Years Since 9/11

I know what you’re thinking. Tomorrow is not September 11. But this Shabbat is 23 Elul. September 11, 2001, was also 23 Elul.

Every year on 9/11, it is appropriate to reflect back on that moment. Where were you when the first plane crashed into the North Tower at 8:46 a.m.? Where were you when the second plane crashed into the South Tower at 9:03? We remember the images, the confusion, and the fear. 9/11 changed the world as we knew it; it’s reverberations are felt to this very day. Who remembers airport security before 9/11? Exactly. There was none.

The impact of 9/11 continues to be borne by those who lost loved ones, those who survived, and those who have been afflicted with 9/11-related illnesses. Even 25 years later, victims are still being identified. Two weeks ago, the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner, working with researchers at the NYPD, identified a female 9/11 victim using a new technique called forensic investigative genetic genealogy, or FIGG.

A generation later, the children whose fathers were killed at the World Trade Center are becoming adults. Some of them are becoming first responders themselves. Crises, catastrophes, and tragedies change us in the moment, in the short term, and in the long term.

Rabbi Meyer Hager, spiritual leader of the Wall Street Synagogue, noted a connection between 9/11 and Tisha B’Av. They are the saddest days on the calendar. Both are tragedies with a lasting impact. Both involve horrific death, fire, and destruction. Both are days whose effects continue long after the event itself. Tisha B'Av is also a 9/11 of sorts: the ninth day of the 11^th Hebrew month.

Commemorating 9/11 is not only about what happened that day. It is what happened afterward. Rebecca Solnit, wrote a book entitled A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities that Arise in Disaster. She studied the spontaneous responses to some of the worst calamities of the twentieth century, including the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, 9/11, and Hurricane Katrina. We tend to assume that disasters bring out the worst in people. Think about images of looting, hoarding, selfishness, and panic. But very often, the opposite happens. Disasters can bring out the best in people.

9/11 was a day that revealed unimaginable evil, but it also produced an extraordinary wave of altruism, courage, and chesed. People ran toward danger. Strangers helped strangers. First responders climbed the stairs while everyone else was coming down. Ordinary people did extraordinary things. That fateful day stands as proof that we can withstand and build back stronger. 9/11 teaches us a Torah of resilience.

The last Shabbat of the year is a most appropriate yahrzeit for 9/11. We are about to enter a period focused on repentance, repair, and renewal. The High Holidays are also a time for resilience. Resilience is the ability to recover from difficulty. It is the capacity to return to shape after being stretched or challenged. We can never erase the past, but a life-altering experience need not permanently alter who we are.

Teshuvah is based on resilience. The word itself means return. We make mistakes. We experience setbacks. Sometimes we cause damage to ourselves, to others, to our relationship with God. Then, we return. Teshuvah is a gift. We have a pathway to repair our misdeeds, to atone for our sins, to begin again. Rabbinic literature and Jewish tradition go to great lengths to emphasize just how great teshuvah is. It is compared to a mikvah. It is described almost as a miracle. It is not easy, but it is a wonderful tool.

What about the lingering pain? What about the sin?

Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, in On Repentance, writes that sin is not to be forgotten or simply erased. The memory of sin can release something within us and give us the power to do greater things than ever before. The sin remains sin, but we can become something greater because of it. That is resilience. We are who we are not only because of our successes, but also because of our mistakes. We are a sum total of all of our experiences including the tragedies.

Jewish history bears this out. The Midrash asks why the Jewish people have survived while so many nations and civilizations have disappeared. It explains that when suffering comes upon the nations, they become discouraged and give up. When suffering comes upon Israel, we turn to God. We pray. We hold onto faith and tradition. The Midrash connects this idea to Moshe’s words, “Atem nitzavim ha-yom kulchem - You are standing today, all of you.” This is one of the simplest and most powerful descriptions of Jewish resilience. We have been knocked down, but we stand. We have suffered, but we continue. We have been tested, but we endure.

This year’s timing of 9/11 is especially powerful. September 11 is next Friday. That night is Rosh Hashanah. We will commemorate the yahrzeit of thousands who were killed by our enemies. We will remember their lives and honor their memories. Then, as the sun sets, we will enter a new Jewish year. As we engage with the heaviness of 9/11, we embark upon a brand-new year full of promise and opportunity.

If it sounds complicated, it is. And that’s ok.

The final Torah readings offer a roadmap to Jewish endurance: Nitzavim, Vayeilech. Ha’azinu. V’Zot Haberachah – Stand, Go, Hear, This is the Blessing. We can only proceed (go) once we’ve stood in place holding on to whatever has happened to us. As we move forward, we will succeed only if we’ve internalized (heard) the lessons of the past and their ability to shape us. If we follow this path, we will find blessings.

This guide applies to 9/11 and any past experiences. We cannot remain forever frozen in the moment. We take the memory with us, and we move forward. We listen to the lessons of our failures. We listen to what tragedy teaches us about ourselves, about one another, and about what really matters. If we listen carefully, we can arrive at the blessing.

9/11 did not have the final word. Neither do our mistakes, our setbacks, or our darkest moments. We stand. We move. We listen and learn. We will achieve blessing. That is the message of 9/11, of teshuvah, and the New Year.

May we have the courage to stand, the strength to move, the humility to listen, and the wisdom to learn. May we honor those we lost by living lives worthy of their memory. May we take the lessons of the past and turn them into the blessings of the future. May the best of the past year be the worst of the year ahead.