Why I Hate September

When I used to live up north, I loved September. But I live in the Southern part of the United States now, and the promise of fall is fleeting this time of year. I live for the falling leaves, crisp mornings, and sipping hot coffee on the porch as the sunset ushers in the chilly air. Here, the mornings get drier, the wind blows a little cooler, but the sun still beats down hot enough to make it feel like it’s the middle of July. 

September brings bitter recollections as well. Around this time of year, I replay the memory of sitting in our family’s living room at 9-years-old, watching my mother cry on the couch as the second plane hit the South Tower of the World Trade Center, just 68 miles from where I sat. I remember the look of anger on my dad’s face as he realized that the dots falling off the side of the building were jumpers, not debris. I then recall how later that night, after Osama Bin Laden claimed responsibility for the attack, my dad explained what Islam was, why many of its adherents hate Christians like us, and how we “live in a different world now.” 

Almost 24 years to the day, while teaching my final class at the school I work at, texts came flooding into my phone. I saw the footage of Charlie Kirk getting shot in the neck all over my social media feeds, and then continued to see it over and over in my head as I tried to sleep that night. September came to signify the reminder that there is a legion of people on this earth, indeed, in my own country, who would be gleeful at the thought of my death and my children becoming fatherless. Whether jihadists in faraway lands or the far-left of my own nation, the words of the David, which never seemed too relevant to my life, began to make a lot more sense: 

O God of my praise,

Do not be silent!

For they have opened the wicked and deceitful mouth against me;

They have spoken against me with a lying tongue.

They have also surrounded me with words of hatred,

And fought against me without cause.

In return for my love they act as my accusers;

But I am in prayer.

Thus they have repaid me evil for good

And hatred for my love.

Appoint a wicked man over him,

And let an accuser stand at his right hand.

When he is judged, let him come forth guilty,

And let his prayer become sin.

Let his days be few;

Let another take his office.

Let his children be fatherless

And his wife a widow.

–Psalm 109:1-9

During the “peak-woke” era (roughly 2018-2022), it was very much in vogue among the major Evangelical institutions and publications to encourage victimhood and solidarity among the “intersectional alliance.” Essentially, any group that wasn’t “white evangelicals” was to be affirmed, empathized with, and exalted. This was best illustrated during the riots and demonstrations following the 2020 death of George Floyd in Minneapolis. Floyd was one in a long train of perceived martyrs of racial solidarity, almost all of whom would fall into the scriptural category of “certain useless fellows.”

But at the same time, Christians (and Americans at large) faced real, tangible threats at home and abroad. Political progressives began to rip off their masks, advocating not only for the destruction of the family and the human soul, but also expediting the mass incursion of scores of foreigners hostile to our way of life into the US. The COVID-19 period accelerated these threats to a previously unimaginable level. 

Unfortunately, many pastors and Evangelical leaders chose the path of supposed “political neutrality” over confronting the Spirit of the Age. Appealing to leftist sentiments was acceptable; appealing to anything else was not. The absurdity of this period becomes clearer the farther we get away from it, but the threats and perils that marked it have not even begun to subside. The radical left still vies for power. The threat of Islam grows ever greater. 

The irony of the earth-shaking events of September is that much of the overall reaction to both 9/11 and the murder of Charlie Kirk has not fit basic biblical morality and common sense. The response from the American government following the 9/11 attacks was not only to soft-pedal the rhetoric of Islam, but also to increase immigration from Islamic countries and import the threat to our own neighborhoods. Much of the cultural response following the assassination of Charlie Kirk has been positive, but a not insignificant part of the country celebrated the murder, while another portion turned it into a “true-crime” saga. 

It would be easy to throw despair and defeatism out onto the feeds and inboxes of TruthScript’s followers and supporters–in fact, there’s a large market for it. But we’re reminded in Scripture that despair and hopelessness are not permissible for Christians. Instead, we’re to take the long view of things, seeing the hand of Providence across generations, not merely our lifetimes: 

But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.

– 2 Peter 3:8-9

Robert E. Lee aptly summed up this passage in a letter to his wife in 1856: 

…we must leave the progress as well as the result in his hands who Sees the end; who Chooses to work by slow influences; and with whom two thousand years are but a single day.

It’s worth remembering that many of those who wish to do us harm also take this view, though in the negative. Militant Muslims have a long memory, one that goes back to humiliating defeats at the hands of Christian armies. They remember the defeat of the Muslim Ottomans by the Habsburg League at the Battle of Zenta in 1697. They remember the crushing defeat at the gates of Vienna thirteen years earlier. And they certainly remember the successful defense of Malta in 1565 by Christian knights. All of these defeats occurred on September 11, and the timing of the World Trade Center attacks was not an accident. 

The difference for Christians is that we are assured of the final outcome. Whether we perish on the field of battle or at peace in our beds, Christ has already won the victory. His rule and reign cannot be upended by hijackers or assassins’ bullets. This assurance was what gave Charlie Kirk the courage to publicly proclaim Christ, though he knew the danger of doing so. It’s the assurance that has given God-fearing soldiers the courage to charge into battle.

 Captain, my religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me. That is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave.

–Stonewall Jackson

Of course I don’t actually hate September. Even in the South, a little bit more of summer isn’t anything to complain about. Each time and season the Lord grants is another to be thankful for, and to live to His glory. The mournful events of September don’t serve as reminders to be bitter or despairing. They remind me not to cling too hard to this fleeting life, to love and serve others with the time I have, and to pursue courage and boldness in the face of great adversity. 

Most of all, they remind me to leave the confusing, heartbreaking realities of living in a sin-cursed world to the one who “works all things after the counsel of His will” and “works all things together for good for those who are called according to His purpose. 

If we kept these things in mind, perhaps we might have the courage of Charlie Kirk and of the men who ran back into the Towers.