43. An Atheist's Defense of the 9/11 Cross

(Alternate Title: How to Alienate the Tiny Handful of People Who Still Listen to You*)

The world knows what happened on 9/11. I don't need to recount the tragedy in order for you to remember the hours and days spent staring at the television through teary eyes as you agonized over every word, every image. Maybe you even remember this one.

I do. It was discovered in the rubble two days after the towers fell. One of the few things left standing, albeit barely. As the men and women of the FDNY, NYPD, and other brave responders labored beneath it, those with access reportedly deferred to the steel crossbeams when their burden became too much to bear. When the public could reach it, they adorned it with flowers, photos, and messages for lost loved ones, wreathing it in their hope as well as their heartache. It mattered to them. In more ways than I, as a person separated as much by geography as by ideology, could ever put into words.

Ten years later, the cross was submitted for placement in the 9/11 Memorial Museum. While the move was opposed by the Coalition for Jewish Concerns, the American Atheists organization went above and beyond by responding with a lawsuit. The suit stated, "Plaintiffs seek declaratory and injunctive relief to require those responsible for the September 11 Memorial and Museum to remove a 20-foot cross from the Memorial and Museum or to provide equal space to memorials from other beliefs. That either the cross be removed from the museum, or symbols representing all religious and nonreligious groups be displayed alongside the cross."

Far from being well-received (as no one thought it would be...), the demand was immediately characterized as a shrieking expression of hatred for the religious. Atheist though I am, I don't hate the cross. I don't hate anything. But, when my haphazardly-donned title is represented on the national stage by a seemingly knee-jerk suit like this one, where the symbol is targeted for bringing honor to some and zero dishonor to anyone, it's easy to understand why people might think I do.

"We're talking about public lands. We're talking about public funds... We're talking about an eighteen-foot memorial," said American Atheists president David Silverman, who believes the cross is an endorsement of Christianity by the government, in violation of the separation of church and state. "It does not represent Jews, Muslims, Mormons, or atheists."

I don't disagree. In fact, were this any other suit, where the object in question had been planned, contracted, and displayed with the intent to memorialize some to the exclusion of others, this post would read very differently. But in this? Let them have it.

No one carved this cross. No one paid for it, and no one picked up a welding torch under the belief that their religion was the only one worthy of recognition. This was a leftover remnant from a building swallowed by terror. It was a real thing that brought real comfort to many.

And I want them to be comforted.

I want the pain of my fellow Americans -- responders, survivors, and family members who underwent an appalling experience -- to be alleviated in any way that it can. So let them bless the tower's skeleton. Let them see in it a joy that is uniquely theirs. Let them lean on it and use it to shoulder weight of their grief so that they might move forward. I may not share in it. I may not understand it. But I can honor these steel beams for doing what I could not as I sat on the other side of the country, staring at the television through teary eyes. It gave them an outlet. It gave them peace.

Let them have it.

Above and beyond anything, I believe in a balance between reason and compassion. According to Silverman, “What we seek is any remedy that honors everyone equally, be they Christian, Muslim, Jew, or atheist. This can either be done with a totally neutral memorial that concentrates on the tragedy and not religion, or one that allows everyone to put up a display of equal size and prominence. In the latter case, we have offered to pay for a display ourselves. If everyone is provided equal treatment, we will drop our lawsuit because fair is fair.” Under this premise, the suit may indeed be reasonable, but it defies compassion. If I'd the power, I would ask them to choose another cause, on another battlefield, one that desperately needs their heartfelt fervor, as well as their funds. I would ask them to give blood, or donate to the Michael Lynch Memorial Foundation. I would ask them to preserve the integrity of reasonableness and decency alike. Because, as much as I respect the struggle to bring equality to everyone whose contributions have been silenced or ignored by religion, in this case, I can't help but feel that no one stopped to remind themselves of the simplest of adages:

It takes nothing away from you to be kind.


*This is me, crossing my fingers, hoping I'm wrong!