[1] Construed narrowly, as a mere question of fact, the answer is plain. Hope has greatly declined since 9/11. This is shown in polls and in countless anecdotes. Everywhere we hear of the anxiety, uneasiness, and fear, affecting even children, that now pervade American life. The reasons for the loss of hope are equally clear. We find ourselves absolutely vulnerable. We feel, with considerable justification, that we can be attacked anywhere, at any moment, and that no security measures will change this situation basically. This marks a primal change for a nation that has, for almost four centuries, been geographically set apart from all foreign sources of danger. This historic change is in ironic contrast with another, nearly simultaneous, change: our emergence as the world's single superpower.

[2] A somewhat more interesting question than the narrow one of fact is more or less implicit in, and perhaps was intended by, the original question. What has happened to the possibilities of hope since 9/11? Do present circumstances largely preclude hope? Or could it be that they somehow open the way to a deeper and truer hope than we have been in the habit of harboring? I suggest that the tragedy in New York City, while leading to fear for our physical security, opened the way to a new kind of hope---a hope more Christian than American hope often has been in the past. Hope which depends on confidence in physical invulnerability, and in actions that can be taken by human agents, is not, if judged by Christian standards, a very substantial hope. True hope looks beyond the world and beyond the radical vulnerability which is inherent in the mortality of each one of us. And it looks beyond human agents and powers; it is founded on a transcendental trust, on trust in God. I suggest that 9/11 invites us to learn the spirituality of true hope. How can we do that?

[3] For Christians, the only complete answer is: by being deep and true Christians---an answer I hardly can, or need to, elaborate on here. It may be worthwhile, however, to say a few words about the obverse side of that answer. To learn true hope we must avoid false hopes. That is a proposition, I think, quite relevant to our present situation. When people are anxious and fearful, false hopes are tempting, and Americans today appear to be strongly tempted.

[4] The most immediate of these false hopes is that of regaining the invulnerability we lost on 9/11. Prudent measures regarding "homeland security" are obviously essential. We must not forget, however, what most of us at present realize, namely, that the security we have enjoyed throughout most of our history, and which we knew had vanished when the highjacked airplanes hit the Twin Towers, is irretrievable. Only if we accept that kind of "hopelessness" are we in a position to overcome a deeper and more serious hopelessness, that which renders us incapable of trusting any but visible, human powers and of looking to any but a worldly future.

[5] Other false hopes concern the agencies and powers responsible for taking whatever measures are prudent. The great danger here is that of exaggerating the significance of our superpower status and forgetting that, rather than reducing our physical vulnerability, it enhances it by arousing envy and hatred in many parts of the world. History suggests that a people as fearful and anxious as Americans today appear to be are particularly susceptible to nationalist idolatry. It is risky, therefore, when we flaunt our independence as "the greatest power in history." Again, this is not to rule out prudence. I do not see how one can rule out even the possibility that a preemptive strike against another nation might sometime be necessary. But it is appropriate, when we speak of such things, for the world to tremble, and we too should tremble. Care in seeking the opinions of other peoples and nations, and hesitation in defying them, is not merely good manners. It expresses a humility which is no more than sober awareness of the limits of our power and wisdom---a humility making room in our minds for authentic hope and for the transcendental trust on which such hope rests.

[6] If there is any other false hope that might divert us from the pursuit of true hope it may be of the kind often vested in money. America is not only the most powerful nation in history but also the wealthiest, and wealth, like power, is a tempting object of idolatry. Such idolatry is of two main kinds: wealth may be idolized as a refuge for the wealthy, or it may be regarded as a sure source of strength and safety for the nation. The former is indulged in by only a few, those with great wealth. The latter can be a national attitude, and that is why it concerns us here. National idolatry of wealth is expressed in preoccupation with productivity and commensurate neglect of issues of distribution, like equality and justice. This means neglect of America as a community, as a single, united people. And this, finally, means neglect of one of the few good things arising from 9/11: comradeship---among firefighters, among New Yorkers, and among Americans brought together momentarily by a great disaster. Enormous national wealth opens up avenues toward true hope only in the company of justice and community .

[7] If these comments as a whole can be summarized, it might be by saying that the main danger before us is spiritual rather than physical. It is that of forgetting our essential weakness, and in forgetting that, no longer being accessible to authentic hope---hope of a kind that does not count on power or money. Needless to say, there is physical danger too, and the government is responsible for taking steps to meet it. We should be wary of sentimental peace-talk. Merely to survive physically, however, is not a great achievement, whereas to learn true hope, in discouraging times, is. If we could do that it would be possible to say that 9/11 worked for good, as Paul assured us all things do with those who love God.