Victim Number One

On September 11, 2001, Father Mychal Judge ran toward the Twin Towers while thousands fled. The sixty-eight-year-old Franciscan friar served as chaplain to the New York City Fire Department, and when the first tower was struck, he didn't hesitate. He pushed through the chaos of lower Manhattan, entered the lobby of the North Tower, and began praying over the wounded and dying.

When the South Tower collapsed, debris swept through the lobby. Father Judge was killed instantly. Firefighters carried his body out on a makeshift stretcher — a simple office chair — in what became one of the most recognized photographs of that terrible day. His death certificate read Victim 0001, the first official casualty recorded.

To the watching world, his death looked like senseless waste. A gentle old priest, crushed under rubble. The foolish might say he should have stayed home, stayed safe. But those who knew Mychal Judge understood something different. He died exactly where he belonged — doing precisely what he was made to do.

The writer of Wisdom tells us that the righteous who suffer and die are not destroyed. "In the eyes of the foolish they seemed to have died, and their departure was thought to be a disaster. But they are at peace." Their faithfulness, tested like gold in the refiner's fire, shines brighter for having passed through the flames. To the world, it looked like tragedy. To the Almighty, it looked like a faithful servant coming home.