DON'T LET LESSONS OF 9-11 FADE.

Byline: JONATHAN DOBRER

FIVE years post 9-11 and we have had no organized domestic terror attack. We have, however, certainly felt a sense of terror, a sense of anticipation and vulnerability. What is the lasting legacy of 9-11? Is it only fear, vulnerability or rage?

As human beings we look for meaning in our experiences. There is an almost universal faith that every cloud has a silver lining. While we do not believe this in a literal way, we do look for meaning in our suffering and work to create or extract something of use from misfortune.

The great thing about failure is that it usually gets our attention. It calls upon us to do something, change something. It pierces smugness and denial. History has a way of making us re-evaluate significant parts of our lives.

Sept. 11, 2001, was an emergency, an event unforeseen in its scope. It was a failure -- a failure of intelligence and of imagination. Our government failed at doing the one thing that the right and left agree is its primary job and that is, ``To provide for the common defense.''

Have we learned from this failure? We better have learned the right lesson -- the lesson of love, the lesson, not of safety, but of values.

Maybe the kind of pain and insecurity our society is experiencing will have a silver lining and will get our societal attention and help us learn some important things about life, values and priorities. No, I will not argue that it is all ``worth it,'' or part of some divine plan. However, I want to redeem, extract and use those tragic circumstances as well as possible.

The world does look different today for many of us in America than it appeared only five years ago. For me, I find that when I pick up a magazine the ads are shocking to me. The materialistic desires, so a part of our culture seem, as Ecclesiastes wrote, ``a vanity and chasing after wind.''

I turn past the ads for high-end tchotchkes without either envy or interest -- other than wondering why any of that stuff ever seemed important to anyone? Some ads are particularly painful and ironic. There are no ``Musts de Cartier; the only true ``musts'' are air, peace, and buildings that are not collapsing infernos.

At this anniversary and in this time of war, when we feel physically and emotionally vulnerable, it is important to remind ourselves of what is truly important and precious in our lives. We know that the most precious gifts we have to share are our time and love. Everything else is way down the list. I pray we remember this.

After 9-11, we were all so impressed with the bravery, the truly selfless devotion to duty that so many firefighters, police and emergency technicians showed. I was equally impressed by what did not make a difference. People were rescued who needed rescuing. People were carried down stairs -- race, gender and religion appeared to play no part. In the flames, in the dirt, in the dust all were gray. People were not saved by color or religion, not by political party or sexuality. No one asked for a passport, visa or birth certificate.

For a moment, a tragic but a telling moment, we were all just human beings. The irony is that in the midst of such tragedy, our nation worked the way it should every day. From out of the flames, out of the debris, out of the chaos, our humanity emerged. This must give us hope.

My greatest fear is not that ``we are forever changed'' -- as so many said. On the contrary, I am terrified that we have forgotten -- that our moral epiphanies of love, loyalty and the precious fragility of life have faded and we will have returned to ``normal.''

I do not want to do this. I do not want to lose the sense of how much we need each other. I do not want to forget what is important and what is trivial. I do not want to confuse price and value. I want to remember that for a time race, religion, social status did not matter. To return to the status quo would compound the tragedy of 9-11.

The great lesson of the day is simple: Most people are good and decent, generous and brave.

We can try to learn and keep the painful lessons about priorities. We have choices in dealing with trauma. We can try to transcend them, get over them, dull ourselves to their pain. But we can also transform them; by an act of will, we can give them value by living their lessons.

So often we ``get it'' for a while. We go to a funeral, or come close to losing someone precious to us and we are filled with an awareness of our deepest priorities. We promise ourselves to operate out of our real values. We are caught up in a moral fervor -- but the moment fades too fast.

Maybe this time, we will keep it. Maybe this time, we will know that our time and attention, our love and caring are what really count in this dangerous and beautiful world.

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Photo:

(color) People look on as the World Trade Center is attacked in New York on Sept. 11, 2001.

Angel Franco/The New York Times