Writing in the Dust: After September 11 (Paperback)

~ Rowan Williams (Author) "Last words..." (more)
Key Phrases: New York

Editorial Reviews

Amazon.com Review

With strength and humility, Anglican theologian Rowan Williams raises terrifying religious questions that linger in the wake of New York's devastation on September 11, 2001. Writing in the Dust, a brief work of brave speculation, asks how Christians should respond to the terrorist attacks, and how we should live in the climate of fear and aggression that those attacks have created. What is the proper use of our anger? What constitutes a "just war"? What do the terrorists' actions say about the risks and rewards of globalized cultures and economies? Williams does not offer clear-cut answers to these questions, and he offers no program of Christian political action in the post-9/11 world. However, he does suggest, gently and repeatedly, that "trauma can offer a breathing space; and in that space there is the possibility of recognizing that we have had an experience that is not just a nightmarish insult to us but a door into the suffering of countless other innocents." --Michael Joseph Gross --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

Product Description

On the morning of September 11, 2001, Rowan Williams, distinguished theologian and Anglican Archbishop of Wales, was preparing to record a program on spirituality for Trinity Church, Wall Street — just two blocks from the World Trade Center. He was interrupted. As the terrible events of that morning unfolded, the people at Trinity Church found themselves trapped by the choking cloud of dust and debris. Amid the chaos and fear, including thoughts of his own death, Williams offered encouragement and prayer to those around him.

In this small, poignant volume, written in the weeks following September 11, Williams reflects on the meaning of that horrific day. This is not a book of academic theology or a program for action. Rather, as the author says, it is one person's heartfelt attempt to find words for the grief, shock, and loss following one of America's darkest days. It is also an effort — however tentative — to find wisdom for the days ahead. After the 11th, Williams asks, what are we prepared to learn? He believes we need time and opportunity to grieve — but also to ask whether anything can grow through this terrible moment. His insightful meditations touch on a range of subjects, from the proper use of religious language, the need to foster responsible emotions, and the opportunity for careful self-reflection to the nature of globalization, questions of "just war," and the dehumanizing use of symbols.

Speaking to the painful needs of the moment, "Writing in the Dust" offers spiritual direction to all who struggle to discern "how faith might begin to think and feel its way through the nightmare."

Product Details

• Paperback: 90 pages
• Publisher: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company (August 2002)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0802821197
• ISBN-13: 978-0802821195
• Product Dimensions: 7.3 x 5.2 x 0.4 inches
• Shipping Weight: 2.4 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 5.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (4 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #124,853 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

49 of 51 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars A beautifully written, provocatively nuanced book, May 9, 2002

By	Kerry Walters (Lewisburg, PA USA) - See all my reviews (TOP 50 REVIEWER)    (REAL NAME)

This review is from: Writing in the Dust: After September 11 (Hardcover)

In this haunting and deeply meditative reflection, Rowan Williams has introduced a badly needed "breathing space" into the furious debate surrounding the events of 9/11. "Breathing space," in fact, is the central theme that runs through his little book--breathing space as a moment in which time seems to cease, we are caught in a void, and ordinary worries that involve self-concern and competition are momentarily suspended. Our general strategy is to rush to fill the void; humans (even if not nature) abhor a vacuum. But Williams encourages us to explore the void, to let it speak to us, to take time to explore its contours, and to allow ourselves the time to think deeply and honestly and compassionately about 9/11.

If we embrace the void--the break in our usual ways of thinking about the world--created by 9/11, we just might rethink our conventional attitudes to retaliatory violence, to heroism, to globalism, and to how we relate to strangers. These are the four themes Williams so provocatively explores. Retaliatory violence may give us the illusion of control, but it doesn't resolve the brokenness that gives rise to violent eruptions in the first place. Heroism, as displayed for example by fire fighters and cops in NYC on 9/11, is frequently anonymous and "ordinary," rather than the dramatic, fireworks-like military display our culture teaches us to crave. The global village has shrunk the world to such an extent that we can no longer deny that whatever we do in this country impacts the world and will bring consequences (deserved or not) back upon us. Consequently, we need to examine our conventionally bordered definitions of responsibility. Finally, people ought to be seen as they are in themselves, rather than as we symbolically recreate them to fit into our preconceived paradigms. Terrorists see Americans as spawn of the Great Satan; we see terrorists as agents of inexplicable, unprovoked evil. With these symbols hiding our true faces from one another, how can genuinely empathic dialogue begin\ between cultures and peoples?

If you're looking for quick solutions to the horror and grief that began (for Americans) on 9/11, this book isn't for you. But if you're in search of a companion who will help you reflect deeply on the implications of 9/11, read Williams. It might be especially instructive to compare his message to William Bennett's in the recently released *Why We Fight.* The two go in completely opposite directions.

11 of 14 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars A THEOLOGICAL GEM, August 28, 2002

By	Darryl M. Haase "dothehucklebuck" (Cleveland, OH United States) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

This review is from: Writing in the Dust: After September 11 (Hardcover)

William's short yet vivid essay on the events of 9/11 is a theological gem. While many clerics in mainline churches quickly jump on political bandwagons in crises like these, Williams offers profound theology which speaks directly to the soul. A must.

6 of 7 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Something permanent, June 25, 2003

By	FrKurt Messick "FrKurt Messick" (Bloomington, IN USA) - See all my reviews (TOP 10 REVIEWER)

In this small, meaningful text, `Writing in the Dust: After September 11', Archbishop Rowan Williams presents a quick and poignant response to the tragedy that befell not just America, but the entire world, on September 11, 2001. He happened to be in New York City at the time, at Trinity Church Wall Street, just a few blocks away from the devastation as the events took place. He wrote this book reflecting on his eyewitness accounts in the following few weeks. It is not an academic text, nor is it a programmatic text, but rather, it is an extended meditation, and a very personal account of grief, anger, and finally, hope.

It is near the end of the text that Williams highlights the story that immediately came to mind for me, and that is of Jesus writing in the dust as the crowd gathered to stone the prostitute. In the gospel of John, many different interpretations have been given to explain Jesus' curious actions in that story. Why did he write in the dust? What did he write?

Of course, dust was all around in New York City that day, the dust and grit of debris from the once proud towers and planes that became a symbol of terror and mortality. But writing in the dust, Williams says, is something perishable, too. Something that will not last. In the days following the attacks, America was ready for war. Had there been a clearly defined target and enemy, America surely would have gone to extraordinary lengths for revenge. The murkiness of the situation left America struggling to find an adequate response, a response still being debated, now years later.

A lot of talk in the past has focused upon the warlike nature of specific religions, countered by historical examples of our own cultures, religious and quasi-religious. This leads to accusation and counter-claim -- has it led to any real introspection on the part of our culture?

Of course, part of the problem with this introspection is that it is impractical for the most part. It also lacks the emotive power and emotional satisfaction of a call for vengeance. When people asked, as they continued to ask, where was God during those moments, theologians of every stripe struggle to find an answer that is at both emotionally and intellectually satisfying. Williams has elements of major modern theological schools in his own theology, including process theological ideas.

Williams continues beyond this to discuss the impact on those of us in the West who misinterpret the intentions of Muslim peoples, perhaps deliberately. He discusses a general worldview in which the virtues of the past, the 'just war' and the ideas of heroism and patriotism are in fact more fully exemplified in terrorists like Al-Qaeda and the IRA than in those they combat. The evolution of conflict from World-War types of clearly-defined battlelines logistically and politically have given way to a rather messy world in which the sands shift too quickly for easy answers to have general applicability. He also addresses a certain sense of futility.

Finally, Williams talks about the symbolic power, and the emptiness and inappropriateness of such symbols, near the end of his meditations. Symbols have great power, but those symbols can be misused, sometimes deliberately, particularly by those who did not originate the events or meanings. Symbols can sometimes imprison reality, Williams states, and cause us to belittle and sometimes look past the reality involved. Thus, symbols must be handled with great care.

One might get the sense from this book that Williams is a 'bleeding-heart liberal', and, insofar as simple labels tell a half-truth, that might be true. Yet there is something far deeper here. It is a voice we need to hear, rather like the voice of Colin Powell in the Cabinet swimming against the stream of opinion in the administration. Williams is not speaking a popular voice, but it is a necessary voice, one of compassion for the victims, and genuine concern for the future, not just a future in which America will be safe, but in which the entire world sees justice. This requires, and receives from Williams, an honest and accurate assessment of the Muslim world, too.

Williams uses the language of prayer. He uses a language of common humanity and a language of compassion. Williams speaks from his heart looking for answers and being honest about not finding too many. This small book, written in the dust of September 11, bears revisiting a year after the events. Rather like the peaceful pleadings of Dietrich Bonhoffer in the midst of World War II, it may well be ignored for now. But this writing is certainly not merely in the dust. Its hope will survive.

Rowan Williams is the recently appointed Archbishop of Canterbury and head of the worldwide Anglican communion. Williams was also the Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity at Oxford University. Williams has been a prolific writer, including such theological and academic works as Arius: Heresy and Tradition; A Ray of Darkness, a collection of pastoral sermons and addresses; and The Wound of Knowledge: A Theological History from the New Testament to Luther and St. John of the Cross. One hopes that his writing career will not be stopped by his coming elevation. `So this is writing in the dust because it tries to hold that moment for a little longer, long enough for some of our demons to walk away.'