The catastrophic attacks of September 11 have exploded our routine, numbed our senses, broken our hearts, and left us groping to understand such an obscene assault on humanity. How could this happen? Who could be so cruel? The questions baffle and frustrate.
Yet our sense of pain and sorrow pales before the agony being experienced by those injured or displaced and the relatives and friends of the dead.

Grief remains one of the few emotions powerful enough to silence us, but we can move forward only by giving voice to our pain and confusion. "Give sorrow words," said William Shakespeare. "The grief that does not speak," he added, "whispers the o'er fraught heart and bids it break." Telling stories about lives lost and lives saved helps heal broken hearts.

We grieve openly for the dead and wounded; we pray for the family and friends of the victims; we applaud the heroic efforts by police, fire, rescue, and medical teams.

Grief demands such expression. Through our words and our sorrow, we help to salve the pain of shock and loss. "Blessed are they that mourn," says the Bible, "for they shall be comforted."
Our grief can also be expressed through our actions. Many have already donated blood or sent financial contributions to the Red Cross. Others have participated in prayer vigils and memorial services.

We cannot erase such a tragedy, but neither can we let it paralyze us. Nor can we let it unleash ugly ethnic prejudice in the name of revenge. Just as a terrible injustice was unleashed against Japanese-Americans in the aftermath of Pearl Harbor, Arab-Americans are being subjected to attacks and abuse. Such vengeful stereotyping must stop.

We must not allow acts of terror to terrorize us or to hijack our sense of fairness and due process. Or to shove us into the ditch of despair.
My preferred response to Tuesday's horrors is that we rededicate ourselves to the values that have long distinguished the United States-family and faith, civility and humanity, compassion and tolerance-even in the face of barbarity and hate.

Let us resolve not to let the deaths of so many innocent men, women, and children go unredeemed. With each passing hour, with every successive day, we must strive ever harder to support one another, regardless of our religious or ethnic background.

We can best sustain ourselves in the face of such tragic circumstances by enacting our strong sense of community and caring. And by refusing to let our own spirits die. Grief is a process, not a final destination. We must choose life, however insecure it has suddenly become.

Our answer to the terrorist outrage is redemption, to seek the facts that lead to justice and understanding, and to live again. With the poet John Donne, we should shout that death shall be no more, that death shall die-through our own unflagging commitment to lives of meaning and service.