- Archive: Letter from the President and Dean
18 September 2001
Dear Members of the CDSP Family:
Early on the morning of 11 September I arose, energized to teach and be with my students. I picked out a special tie, a brand new one, which I planned to lecture about, for its subtle mixture of dark patterns illustrated a characteristic of the biblical text we were to study: the combination of several literary sources all telling the story of the beginnings of Israel and the world.
On my way to school I first heard of the events of this cataclysmic day and I was shaken badly. It seems both presumptuous and overbold to say much, but I wanted to share an experience and some thoughts I had on that particular day, for they say much to me about the challenges CDSP and others face.
After hearing about the attacks, now there was now different work to be done-to talk with CDSP students, faculty, and staff; to help plan worship services; and much more. During that incredible morning, I often found myself holding onto my tie, a nervous habit I guess, and I noticed some rough places in the fabric, places where the stitching seemed to be coming loose.
Later, during that morning's chapel service, I was seated in path of the sunlight streaming through the stained glass window. As I looked down at my tie, illumined brightly by the light, I saw that it was literally unraveling, the woven fabrics, representing the sources of our common stories and life coming apart-very much like the world seemed to be doing at that very moment.
I looked up at the window through which this light was streaming, revealing the horrendous condition of this tie and there was the figure of Christus Rex, a powerful symbol of God's triumph and sovereignty in the world. And, unbidden, this question came to me: What does this light of the Christus Rex, given to a world unraveling before my very eyes, what does such a light, such a triumph have to do with me, with CDSP, with the world, right now? The answers to this question are slow to come-but I'm convinced that our response to the events of 11 September, indeed all days, has much to do with our ability to address such a question.
In the days, which have followed I have found CDSP-its chapel, its classrooms, its offices, its refectory-everywhere, to be a place of confrontation, of grief, of comfort, of asking, even of celebration and thanks. CDSP, with all of its diversity, like the communities which produced the stories of Genesis, is a place when triumph is celebrated and questioned; a place where sovereignty is challenged and given thanks for.
Most of all, CDSP has been a place to be and to make whole-to study, to pray, to put triumph and failure, both integral parts of our Christian faith, together. It is a place to proclaim God's presence in the midst of an unraveling world. It is a place to reassess and reaffirm our calls to service and ministry, even when, especially when, our ability to understand seems so impossible to attain.
In these past few days I have thought much of the CDSP family, folks spread out all over the world. You represent for me not an unraveling tie, but rather diverse and rich sources of comfort and connectedness, witnessing to the power of God to speak powerfully to all sorts and conditions of God's people.
Because I have begun to see that the light of a resplendent Christus Rex in a stained glass window here in the CDSP chapel has much to do with illuminating an unraveling world, witnessing to a power to heal and make whole, because of this I have hope, if not answers. My prayer is that each of you, wherever you are, may find a way to express and testify to the only One who finally makes sense of all this, and calls each of us to help put the world back together.
My tie is a total loss. But this world we live in still holds the possibility of forgiveness and redemption, with the grace of God and our faithful service, much like the story tellers of Genesis spoke of new beginnings after flood, fire, and cataclysm. I trust this letter finds you well and prepared to walk in the light given to each of us.
Faithfully yours,
Donn F. Morgan
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