By Dr. John E. Morgan

Pastor–Collinsville Baptist Church

Tuesday, September 11, 2001.  9/11.  One of those days that everybody who was living remembers.  Where were you when you heard?  When you heard, your next action was probably to hunt for a television. And it was television that brought the horrifying pictures into our lives.

You looked at the screen.  Disbelief.  How could this be real?  Towers falling, people jumping. Death everywhere.  Anger at whoever did this.  And another emotion – terror.  Just what the people who did this wanted.  Terror on the screen and in our hearts.

As the week passed, our country mourned.  And wondered.  Why?  What can we do?  Is there hope?  How do we get revenge?  How do we guarantee that this will not happen again?  There was a national daze, a stupor.  Jobs, schools and ball games cancelled.  Churches full.  And a growing need for what was called normalcy.  Even if it came only one step at a time.  We went back to work.  Back to school.

By the next weekend football returned, whether we felt like it or not.  Most people did feel that they needed to go to move more toward that normalcy they wanted.

Collinsville was playing in Warrior, north of Birmingham about 25 miles.  I drove down to watch the game and to cover it for the newspaper.  I had been to a basketball game there, so I sort of knew where it was.  But not definitely.   So as I got off I-65, I slowed down. It was dusk as I entered the town, searching the sky for those Friday night lights that you can still see in small towns.

There was a Dairy Bar type place on the left side of the road.  The kind most towns used to have.  Hamburgers, ice cream, lots of deep fried food.  This one had a seating area inside with about ten tables and a couple of picnic tables outside. Order at the window or go inside.  The windows were lightly fogged with the lowering night temperatures. Two or three tables with people eating.  A little steam off of their coffee.  You could imagine the conversation – some talk about 9/11.  But also talk about how the game would go that night, whose kid is the new running back.  A little local gossip.  Some kidding.  One more cup of coffee before I go.  It looked like a Norman Rockwell* painting.

I smiled as I drove by.  Then I glanced up at the sign by the restaurant.  It was divided in two.  On the left side it said “Help Wanted”.  It looked like that was permanently painted on.  You could imagine the line of cooks and waitresses who had passed through over the years.

On the right side there was a simple message.  “Pray for Our Country”.

I almost wrecked pulling over.  There it was.  Help wanted.  Pray for Our Country.

That little Dairy Bar was in many ways what the terrorists wanted to take away from us.  A community quietly eating and talking.  Peace.  Freedom.  And that peaceful scene was one answer to the terrorists.  But it was the sign that offered the answer to our country’s deeper questions and fears.

In a world of terror, fear, uncertainty, hopelessness and  hatred, there was the answer.  Need help? Go to God.  The only true hope for me.  Or you.  Or the USA.  If only our country lived its motto – In God We Trust.

For the first weeks after the attacks, America was much more open to God.  The cross that was raised above the rubble of the Twin Towers.  The tears as Major League Baseball began play in New York and the crowd joined the country in singing “God Bless America” as members of the Police Department and Fire Department served as honor guards.  You heard little about political correctness and separating church and state.  The foxhole we were in was too deep.  The country was hurting too much to worry about such things. Too desperate for help and understanding.  Forget our differences.  Pray.  Seek God.

Then we began to return to normalcy.  And the protests began.  Get those prayers out of here.  We don’t need that cross.  The result was not surprising.  Normalcy was returning.  And normalcy for many people meant that they had no room or time for God.  Or a cross.

That should not have surprised Christians.  A core message of Christianity is that we all need God.  This world is still filled with evil, scary people who are filled with hate.  We will always be slaves to terror, fear and uncertainty until we come to God.  And that the only way to come to God is through His Son Jesus.  That is the message the world still desperately needs.  A new normalcy with God. Where true peace in Jesus Christ is normal.  Forever.

Today is Thursday, September 11.  It has been fourteen years.  I haven’t been back to Warrior in a long time.  I like to think about that Dairy Bar sometimes.  I hope it is still there.  And I hope that the sign still says, Help Wanted.  Pray for Our Country.  Because it is still true.

*Or, if you are more a city dweller, it looked like Edward Hooper’s Night Hawks.