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Good morning

Ten years ago this very day, I took an early morning tube ride to Heathrow Airport and a plane to the United States. All went well. Unknown to me, however, mayhem and misery were breaking out behind me. That was the day that four suicide bombers wrought havoc on the population of London. 52 commuters died; 700 were injured. Everything ground to a halt and a pall of death hung heavily across the city. I remained blissfully ignorant of all this. It was well after my arrival in America that I saw television pictures of what had been happening. My poor wife, meanwhile, was beside herself with anxiety. I’d travelled at roughly the time those explosions took place and the identity of the victims had not yet been disclosed. She really thought I might be one of them. She had to endure the same hours of doubt and anxiety as so many others. We became aware of just how close we may come to a fanatic’s random strike.

Soon after the birth of Jesus, Mary his mother was told that a sword would pierce her breast. As she witnessed the mounting anger being directed against her son, she had to suffer at a distance and then endure the trauma of seeing him put to a cruel death. She must have lived with the likelihood of something like that for years. There are tears at the heart of things. We must continue to hold in our prayers all those whose loss that day was so dreadful and whose grief has never gone away.

Dear Lord, we pray for those who suffered and continue to suffer from acts of terror. And we pray for those who commit such acts – that somehow they may see the error of their ways. Amen.