I remember preaching the Sunday after 9/11 like it was yesterday. Hardest sermon I've ever had to preach, not least because I was young (just turned 25 the day before, just started my second year in seminary) and, despite my habit of feigning confidence, I was terribly scared. /1
I remember wrestling tearfully late Saturday night with a deep sense of helplessness and inadequacy. I remember the next morning looking out upon the 200+ mostly college students who hung onto every word from Lamentations 3, the text from which I preached. /2
I remember seeing the President of Brown University slip into the service, and I remember not caring at all, because clearly the moment was bigger than even she. And me. I remember sensing that God had shown up, giving us grace for our despair, disorientation, and doubt. /3
I remember going home after the service, burying my head in a pillow, and crying some more. /4
