To some, the World Trade Towers were a symbol of an economic system that works. To others, they were a symbol of an economic system whose success is built on exploitation. Regardless of where one stands in the debate about the causes of wealth and poverty, Tuesday’s terrorism leaves us no choice but to admit that fear, hatred and violence increasingly define the relations between the rich and poor.

Those who don’t have wealth fear that their children’s lives will be worse than their own. Anger grows as they watch their loved ones die of diseases that disappeared years ago in developed nations. Leaders who foster hatred of the developed nations suddenly sound reasonable.

Those who have wealth grow increasingly fearful of the masses of poor people. They become resentful that their wealth does not give them the freedom and safety they once assumed it would create. Leaders who tell them that the poor are a threat to their well-being suddenly sound reasonable.

It is a recipe for madness. A blueprint for mutual self-destruction. Where does it end? The world’s major religions all agree that it is the responsibility of those who have to help those who do not. Jesus, for example, talked about financial stewardship more than any other single issue. What we do or don’t do with our money is an issue of profound spiritual significance. The strong are supposed to help the weak.

And isn’t the well-being of others an important aspect of good economic policy as well? Impoverished people don’t buy products. Uneducated people don’t constitute a good workforce. Strong economies produce jobs that can enable the poor to build a better future for themselves and their families. Long term economic self-interest requires attention to the needs of others.

If both economists and the world’s religions agree that self-interest and the interest of all are inseparably intertwined, what is the problem? The problem is fear, fear that morphs into hostility...that morphs into a willingness to fly a plane into a skyscraper; or fear that turns into a vengeance-filled cruise missile flying through the night with hopes that it will hit an enemy.

The opposite of fear is faith. Our daily lives are built on hundreds of large and small acts of faith. We have faith that when we get on a plane, it will take us to the scheduled destination; that when we sit in an office, we are safe, that the sun will set tonight and rise tomorrow.

What is at stake today is whether we will live lives of fear or lives of faith. We live in a national and personal moment of truth.

In Washington, this is John Wimberly for Marketplace.

You may contact John at john@westernpresbyterian.org.