Read more of Kim Lawton's interview about the aftermath of September 11 with Rabbi Joseph Potasnik of Congregation Mount Sinai in Brooklyn, New York. He also serves as president of the New York Board of Rabbis and as chaplain for the New York City Fire Department:

What we've come to realize since September 11 is that the little things become the big things -- hugging someone, saying something complimentary, expressing personal feelings: "I love you," "I'm sorry." I also find that there's a greater appreciation for the now. For example, in Israel, people who go on a bus recite a prayer, a psalm, and when they exit the bus, they recite a prayer of thanksgiving that they've made it safely to their destination. Some type of tradition has developed here. People who go on a train, who go in a car, cross a bridge are expressing some kind of gratitude that they have arrived safely at home or at a particular place.

For some people it's a complete return to what it was before, and for some, that's very good. Some people need to go back to the way things were. There are people who don't want to live differently, and that, perhaps, is a tribute to their belief in the security that we have from above and below -- that we can live as we did before. But there are others who need some kind of spiritual reassurance, and I think they are the ones who partake of different customs and also appreciate the importance of living each moment as meaningfully as possible.

I don't think we can ever realistically see things [again] as they were. We have to accept that a great catastrophe has occurred in our world. We simply can't write it off or dismiss it as a footnote in history. It's something we live with. We all know families who were affected by the tragedy. How is it possible, really, to simply compartmentalize and to say, "That was then, this is now"? I think we live with it each and every day. The difference is [that] we all walk around with scars or scratches. You can't often heal a scar. But you can cover it. And what we try to do, at least in the spiritual world, is teach people how to cover some of those scars so they can continue to live, and life still has meaning and purpose.

Before the High Holidays begin, we insist that people greet one another and express their feelings for one another. I won't start a service, for example, in the sanctuary until loved ones turn to each other and hug, hold, say something. Then the service can begin. It's not enough to express some kind of love for God. You have to express love to one another.

We have people in the congregation who have lost loved ones. I have a young woman named Haley Lehrfeld who lost her husband, Eric. I married them. They have a child, Laura, who comes to services. She is still a believer, and what she said has sustained her during this entire period is the love of people all around her. Relationships become a source of great strength for people.

We have to realize that we're members of an extended family. There are a lot of names, a lot of faces, a lot of pictures. There are stories behind each of those names, faces, and pictures. I try to get people to be a little more sensitive to the pain of those who are hurting. You can't simply say, "Well, it's not my problem, it's yours." No, it's our problem. We're a community, and the word "community" has the word "unity." We're all supposed to be here for one another.

We walk down to the water [the East River] during Rosh Hashanah to cast away sins. When we walk down to the water, we look across and we see where the towers stood. They're no longer there. Everybody feels it at that particular moment. But that moment for many is a lasting one. I try to get people to transform that negative into a positive by saying that the best thing you can do is ask, "How can I help someone else get on with his or her life?" That would be a healthier expression ... so we try to change the focus a bit from the "me" to the "we."

Sometimes there are those in time of tragedy who ask, "What can I do?" meaning there's nothing I can do, the enormity of the problem is so great, one person cannot make a difference. There are others who ask, "What else can I do?" That's the proper response. We get people to think of how they can be instrumental in helping someone else move on. It becomes a partnership. That's what communities should be all about.

I think [September 11] is always going to be a shock. [The World Trade Center] had become part of the landscape in New York. We are proud; here were the two tallest buildings, and we could see them from Brooklyn Heights. When you would come into New York, you could see them from a distance. It's always going to be a source of pain for many. It's always going to be a point of recognition: that's the way things were, this is the way things are. Beyond the buildings, we'll try to impress upon one another there were people in those buildings. We talk about all the floors, but there were people behind desks, people who were struggling to leave, to survive, to rescue. It's not just about the architecture; it's about the human spirit that was consumed that day.