Even after a whole year, the images have tremendous power. People in free fall after leaping from the windows of their office. Smoke and soot enveloping city blocks as the great towers burn and fall. Men and women shaking with emotion as they weep for loved ones lost. Steam shovels gathering up huge chunks of debris in their giant mouths. Firemen taking off their helmets in silent salute as the bodies of their comrades are borne past them.

These images remain etched on our souls as we recall the horrific events of September a year ago. Even those of us who did not lose a family member or friend in the catastrophe of the eleventh can feel as if we did. And those of us whose faith in God was shaken by the unspeakable terror of it all continue to grope for meaning.

Terry McGovern, a thirtyish woman who lost her mother in the World Trade Center that day, says “You have to believe there’s something deeper going on, that there’s spiritual life.” As she explains on public television’s “Frontline,” aired last week, she has turned toward the faith she had previously lost.

For her, the death of her mother amidst a scene of terror has restored faith, a return that contrasts with the loss of faith experienced by others. “I want the church’s teaching about the afterlife to be true,” she now says. She needs to believe her mother lives on in a different way.

A man who saw, among the people falling from a thousand feet up, a man and woman hand in hand, finds in that image “the most powerful prayer I can imagine.” As he reflects on this awesome sight he expresses his faith: “It makes me think we’re not fools to believe in God, to believe that love is why we’re here.”

And yet others interviewed for Frontline report the destruction of faith. “If there is a God,” says one man, “he is an indifferent God.” Another sounds despairing: “Our hope was sucked out at Ground Zero.”  Still others, blaming religion for the hatred and the violence, feel bitter at teachings that spawn destruction.

A fireman still retains faith but longs to be in contact with his son: “I wish God had a telephone number,” he says with tears in his eyes. Others are moved to tears as the soprano Renee Fleming sings “Amazing Grace.” She herself confesses having been unable to look at her audience at Ground Zero as she sang, for fear of being overcome with emotion.

As I look back on the terrible events of a year ago, my own faith continues to provide support. The spiritual traditions that have marked my whole life still offer me insight and solace even in the face of unappeasable evil. Though I cannot understand evil’s power over the world, I continue to draw strength from a community of faith.

The gestures that my wife and I made on September 11 last year still seem to me appropriate. We walked to our parish church and joined with others in praying for the victims and their loved ones. We had no answers but felt that sharing a sacred meal made sense. Admittedly, it was an intangible response that could help only spiritually. Still, it was important to us and, we felt, others directly involved might appreciate it too.

If there was ever a time when mere spirit could help, this was it.  We were far from the scene of disaster,  so could do nothing physical. However, we did put ourselves in spiritual contact with brothers and sisters undergoing great travail. There was nothing much that could have been said had we been there. Just being present to them spiritually still seems the most appropriate response to unspeakable tragedy.

The spiritual values that emerged for me a year ago remain central. The precious value of family relationships and those among friends, with special attention to reconciliation among those estranged; the heroism of people called to duty in the most hazardous situations; the primacy of spirit as a response to the mystery of evil.

A woman involved in the dire events says for the television cameras: “I was so materialistic; now I want to be more spiritual.” She has found something valuable that has emerged from the ashes.

Richard Griffin