The Character of a Nation 24 Years After 911 in the Wake of Recent Events

What has happened to character?

Once, it was the measure of a person’s worth. But today, it seems almost forgotten. True character is costly—it demands testing, pruning, yielding, burning, and even dying to self. Without it, everything else collapses.

Twenty-four years ago today, we mourned as a nation. On September 11, 2001, when planes became weapons and the Twin Towers fell, the shock and awe brought us to our knees. We were united in grief. We were called, as Scripture reminds us, to mourn with those who mourn, to humble ourselves, and to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength—and to love our neighbors as ourselves. This was the character of our nation, then.

But how different things are today. Yesterday’s tragedy did not unite us—it exposed our deep divisions.

In fact, we are more divided than ever. Twenty-four years ago, tragedy yielded unity; today, tragedy has laid bare disunity. Scripture warns us: “A house divided cannot stand.” Proverbs tells us that the foolish woman destroys her own house with her own hands. Sadly, these warnings feel painfully relevant to our nation right now.

We face a choice: to embrace the Truth—capital T—or to cling to the truth of our own making. We know the end of the story, but knowing it is not license to live however we choose. On the contrary, knowing the end should compel us to live as ambassadors of God’s kingdom and to embrace the ministry of reconciliation.

I question the character of our nation. We insist on being right, on proving our right to be right, but in doing so, the true heart of our character is revealed. Just as in the days of Herod, hatred within a nation can lead to grievous outcomes. Yet even then, God can turn tragedy into promise.

Charlie Kirk is not Jesus, but his death has revealed the heart of our nation. Where unity once came from tragedy, today division has been exposed. And so the question remains—how will we respond?

If we truly belong to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—the God who was, and is, and is to come—then we are called to love. To love our neighbors. To love our enemies. To love not our own lives, but the One who gave us life. This moment is an opportunity: a national opportunity to choose life, to choose love, to choose reconciliation.

Scripture urges us: “I beseech you by the mercies of God to present yourselves as living sacrifices.” This is the call before us now.

So today I pray:

• For hearts to be softened toward one another.

• For the peace, the shalom of God, to surround and fill us.

• For swords to be laid down so that we may dwell together in unity.

• For the ministry of peacemakers to arise among us.

• For mercy we do not deserve.

And I pray that we pass this test—that, like the phoenix, we rise from the ashes in the beauty of His holiness. May it be said of us, not that division defined us, but that we returned to love, truth, and reconciliation. This is the character our nation must embrace now.