September 11, 2001: Bringing God to His People

By Bishop Edward J. Burns
Special to The Texas Catholic

On Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001, I walked from my car toward the offices of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops in Washington, D.C. Looking toward the great dome of the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, I remember thinking to myself: What a beautiful day.

Within minutes, the routine of that beautiful September morning changed without warning.

News began to unfold that two airplanes had struck the World Trade Center in New York. Then came word that another plane had crashed into the Pentagon, followed by the report of United Airlines Flight 93 going down in Pennsylvania.

A noon Mass was scheduled at the national shrine. The bishops and approximately 5,000 others gathered there that day, joined their prayers with those of countless people throughout our nation and around the world — for peace, for the victims, for their families, and for a country suddenly shaken by unimaginable violence.

As the day unfolded, I heard about a Franciscan priest, a chaplain to the New York City Fire Department, who had been killed at the World Trade Center. I later learned his name: Father Mychal Judge, OFM. He died while ministering amid the devastation at the site.

His death certificate bore the number “0001” — the first officially recorded victim of the attacks in New York City.

At the time, I had been a priest for nearly 20 years and was serving as executive director of the USCCB Secretariat for Vocations and Priestly Formation. Stories about priests naturally caught my attention. In the days and weeks that followed, I began collecting accounts of how my brother priests responded to the events of Sept. 11.

Their stories revealed something profound about the priesthood.

Father Kevin Smith, a chaplain with the Nassau County Fire Department, learned what was happening at the World Trade Center, picked up his brother Patrick, a New York City firefighter, and headed toward the scene.

Amid the chaos following the collapse of the first tower, Father Smith came upon the body of a man he did not recognize. He verified that the man had died, blessed his body, and continued his mission of ministering to others. Later, he learned that rescue workers had carried the body to a nearby office building. Father Smith found them and recognized the deceased man as Father Mychal Judge. He asked that Father Judge’s body be taken to St. Peter’s Church, where it was placed near the altar in the sanctuary.

Father Smith then went to the first pew — and prayed.

Maryknoll missioner Father Raymond Nobiletti, MM, pastor of Transfiguration Parish in New York, was also among the first priests at the scene. A photographer captured him ministering to a woman who had been severely burned. Moments later, the south tower collapsed. Another photograph shows Father Nobiletti still wearing his stole, now covered in soot and ashes.

Amid the destruction, signs of hope also began to emerge.

A construction worker discovered a massive steel crossbeam standing in the rubble of Ground Zero. For many rescue workers and families, what became known as the “Ground Zero Cross” offered a powerful sign of faith amid extraordinary suffering. It was later blessed in a ceremony involving representatives of the FDNY, NYPD, Port Authority Police Department, construction workers, and Franciscan Father Brian Jordan, OFM.

A cross stood amid the rubble.

In Washington that morning, two priests were at the United States Capitol: Father Daniel A. Coughlin, chaplain of the House of Representatives, and Father Gerard Creedon, a priest of the Diocese of Arlington, who had been scheduled to offer the opening prayer before the House.

As the crisis unfolded, the House was called quickly into session. At 9:52 a.m., Father Creedon prayed:

“God of peace and life, send your Spirit to heal our country. Bring consolation to all injured in today’s tragedy in New York and Washington. Protect us and help our leaders to lead us out of this moment of crisis to a new day of understanding and peace. Amen.”

After the prayer was recited, the speaker pro tempore brought down the gavel and said that Congress will stand in recess until notice.

It is interesting to note that the only act of Congress on Sept.11, 2001, was the prayer of a priest.

Not far away, Father Stephen McGraw, a priest of the Diocese of Arlington, was driving to a scheduled burial service at Arlington National Cemetery when he found himself in traffic near the Pentagon.

American Airlines Flight 77 passed close overhead, struck a light pole, and crashed into the Pentagon.

Father McGraw reached into his glove compartment, retrieved his priestly stole and holy oils, and ran toward the devastation.

He identified himself as a priest. He prayed with people. He anointed the injured. He helped carry people, and he offered whatever words of consolation and encouragement he could.

Among those he encountered was a young woman who had been seriously burned. As Father McGraw ministered to her, she looked at him and simply said, “Tell my Mom and Dad I love them.”

Father McGraw remained at the Pentagon ministering throughout the day. When he finally returned to his car later that night, still in the same spot, it had been identified by the FBI as a witness vehicle.

As the days passed, I learned of many more priests who played an instrumental role in the spiritual response to Sept. 11.

Twenty-five years later, the images of Sept. 11 remain etched into our national memory: the towers falling, the Pentagon burning, the field in Pennsylvania, firefighters climbing stairways while others fled to safety, and a nation struggling to comprehend what had happened.

But there are other images worth remembering as well: a priest covered in ashes wearing his stole, another priest running toward the Pentagon carrying holy oils, a Franciscan chaplain giving his life while ministering amid the devastation, and a steel cross rising from the rubble.

They remind us that even in humanity’s darkest moments, God does not abandon his people.

As religious leaders, pastors, and ministers throughout the country gathered their people in prayer during those difficult days, the words of St. John Paul II offered a powerful message of faith and hope: “Sin, evil, terror, and death will not have the last word!”

Bishop Edward J. Burns is the eighth bishop of the Diocese of Dallas.

Cutline for featured image: A woman grieves at the inscription of her late husband’s name at the national 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York City Sept. 11, 2014. Twenty-five years after the 9/11 terrorism attacks that claimed the lives of nearly 3,000 people, Catholic family members who lost loved ones that day have credited their faith with getting through the losses. (CHANG LEE/OSV News photo, Reuters)