The anniversary of 9/11. Hard to believe it’s been 24 years. Unless you’re very young, you have some vivid recollection of where you were, what transpired in your circle, and how it all felt that day.

It might be my job to ask What has changed for the church, for theology, and for our spiritual lives because of 9/11 and the years since? I suspect that day marked an early moment in the long rise of “Christian Nationalism.” I feel sure that, while before 9/11 fears over our security were mounting, 9/11 forever fixed in our minds that security trumps in over all other concerns – which poses a challenge for the Church and its mission, which isn’t about our safety, but about taking risks out in the world.

The book of Acts reminds us that Christianity was born, and thrived, in a world where there was vast political violence and repression that would put 9/11 in the shade. The Church then knew how to be an alternative culture, and how much a viable alternative was needed then – as now.

Of course, in Acts, Christians were still figuring out some of the most basic things. Paul arrives in Jerusalem during a turbulent season. Lousy governors like Felix had made a mess of everything, and the crude force applied (random executions of citizens) only made things worse. Paul arrives with a band of Gentiles – in Jerusalem, which was becoming increasingly xenophobic. And he was walking into an ever-tightening net from the authorities who were determined to act decisively after Paul had caused so much trouble in so many places.

I am moved by Acts 21:18, which narrates what must have been a dramatic meeting between Paul and James. James, the brother of Jesus, now the leader of the mother-church in Jerusalem. I’ve said often that if you wanted to provide evidence that Jesus truly was/is this Son of God, risen from the dead, you need only point to the fact that his earthly brother, who knew him doing chores and trying to sleep while growing up, didn’t debunk but stood courageously with the rest and pledged total loyalty to Jesus.

Paul, the apostle of grace, faith, grace, faith and grace, speaking with James, whose letter in our New Testament chides those overly reliant on grace: “Faith without works is dead” (James 2:26). Martin Luther wryly suggested that the New Testament would be better off without James, a book he despised. And yet Paul’s anchor of faith and James’s on the way faith necessarily issues in works are not at odds, but complementary.

I wonder what they said to one another. We can’t know for sure, but I am fond of Richard Bauckham’s wise suggestion that “in a conversation between James and Paul there would be much nodding of heads and smiling agreement, as well as some knitting of brows and exclamations of surprise.”