Beauty grows beyond a national tragedy

I am writing this column from New York City where my wife and I have been celebrating our 10th wedding anniversary. Amidst the miles of museums and a delightful interlude with “The Lion King,” we had a chance to visit the 9/11 Memorial.

The last time I visited the site it was still rubble. Now it is an oasis of beauty, even though some of the buildings and entrances are still works in progress. The key feature of the Memorial is a pair of reflecting pools/cascading fountains occupying the footprint of the original World Trade Center towers. Etched in the edge of the reflecting pools are the names of the nearly 3,000 victims of the 9/11 attacks.

I was moved by the Memorial, having tracked the events of 9/11 fairly carefully as they unfolded. It is incredibly important to honor and remember that moment in our country’s history, as well as the people who lost their lives that day. I was also impressed by the desire to transform a place of tragedy into a thing of beauty; a transformation humans have committed themselves to throughout history.

What is it about human beings that urge us to build on the rubble of life’s despairing moments? It is more than a desire to “show up” our pain-inflictors with resiliency that won’t admit defeat. This is far more than an “I’ll show you what I’m made of.” Though there may be a tinge of that in our response, there is something more: there is a genuine hopefulness that desires to build monuments on the rubble of disaster.

This defiant hope is more than a survival skill to help us endure the next day; it is a way of thinking that opens the future before us even when the past has been tough. We are not content with enduring; we desire to flourish. Where does this hopefulness come from?

In Genesis, chapter 1, the Bible tells us that we were created in the image of God. Scholars have debated the meaning of this phrase throughout the centuries. I am just wondering if part of the “image package” might not include hopefulness. Certainly God proved His hopefulness in leading a group of reluctant followers out of slavery in Egypt to a life of freedom. And certainly He displayed hopefulness in turning the cross – a symbol of degradation – into the cornerstone of new life. Maybe we were created to display a similar hopefulness in our lives.

I know that is not always easy in the face of everyday difficulties. It certainly isn’t for me. But then I visit a place like the 9/11 Memorial, and I am reminded of hope. If those families, who faced such devastating loss, can build again, then certainly through the grace of God I can find hope in my circumstances. Monuments have a way of doing that to me.

Rev. Jim Govatos currently serves as Senior Pastor at Aloma United Methodist Church located in Winter Park. A former atheist, Jim is passionate about helping people understand and experience a living faith in Jesus Christ. Please share your thoughts by emailing him at [email protected]