FATHER MIKE
I first learned of Father Mychal Judge on that horrible day in 2001, the day the twin towers came down. I watched as grieving firemen lovingly carried his body out of the North tower's smoking rubble. His was the first of many, many bodies that would be found that day.
I did not know Father Mike, but I truly wish I had. I am honored to know his story through those who knew him personally. Robert Emmet (Mychal) Judge was the son of Irish Catholic immigrants from County Leitrim and the firstborn of a pair of fraternal twins. With his twin sister Dympna and his older sister Erin, he grew up in Brooklyn, during the Great Depression. His lifelong affinity for the poor began at a young age; he often gave his only quarter to beggars on the street.
At the age of six, he watched his father die of a slow and painful illness. To compensate for his father's inability to work, Judge shined shoes at New York Penn Station from where he would visit St Francis of Assisi Church on West 31st Street. Seeing the Franciscan friars there, he later said, "I realized that I didn't care for material things ... I knew then that I wanted to be a friar."
In 1948, at the age of 15, Judge began the formation process to enter the Franciscan community. He trained at three seminaries in New York, New Jersey, and New Hampshire before receiving his BA degree from St. Bonaventure University. He completed his training and was ordained a priest at Holy Name College in Washington, DC in 1961. Upon entering the Order of Friars Minor, he took the religious name of Michael, later changing the spelling to Mychal.
From 1961 to 1986, Father Mychal Judge served at St Anthony Shrine in Boston, St Joseph Parish in East Rutherford, NJ, Sacred Heart Parish in Rochelle Park, NJ, and St Joseph Parish in West Milford, NJ. For three years he served as assistant to the president at Siena College in Loudonville, NY. In 1986, he was assigned to the monastery of St Francis of Assisi Church on West 31st Street, New York, where he lived and worked until his death in 2001. Around 1971, Father Mike became an alcoholic, although he never showed obvious signs. In 1978, with the support of Alcoholics Anonymous, he became sober and continued to share his personal story of alcoholism to help others facing addiction
In 1992, Father Judge was appointed chaplain of the Fire Department of New York. As chaplain, he offered encouragement and prayers at fires, rescues, and hospitals, and counseled firemen and their families, often working 16 hour days. "His whole ministry was about love. Mychal loved the fire department and they loved him."He was a member of AFSCME Local 299 (District Council 37).
In New York, he was also well known for ministering to the homeless, the hungry, recovering alcoholics, people with AIDS, the sick, injured, and grieving, immigrants, gays and lesbians and those alienated by the Church and society.
For example, he once gave the winter coat off his back to a homeless woman in the street, later saying, "She needed it more than me." When he anointed a man who was dying of AIDS, the man asked him, "Do you think God hates me?" Father Mike just picked him up, kissed him, and silently rocked him in his arms. A gay man himself, though not practicing, he never tried to hide his orientation from others. It was this orientation that led him to work tirelessly ministering to AIDS victims when the epidemic first came into the public's awareness. He was among the first to not shrink back in mindless fear when in the presence of anyone suffering from the virus. When he would minister in the hospitals which were now full of dying patients, he most likely was the only solace to these who suffered so terribly, first from the disease, then from abandonment by family and friends.
If he encountered a patient who wanted nothing to do with the church or its representatives, having been outcast as a leper or worse, he developed a technique to reach even the most bitter among them. Father Mike carried a bottle of anointed oil with him everywhere. He would walk in, introduce himself, and boldly remove the sheets from the patient's feet and legs which were usually covered with horrible lesions. Then he would lovingly oil their feet and give them a soothing foot massage while speaking to them in a soft, low voice. Few could resist this loving kindness, and there were hundreds, if not thousands, of suffering souls he loved back to their lost sense of hope. Even before his death, many considered Father Mychal Judge to be a living saint for his extraordinary works of charity and his deep spirituality. As surely as Jesus Christ once walked among us, he lived among us again as Father Mike. This remarkable man didn't preach love, he WAS love. And he gave it so freely with every ounce of his being that he lives on today in the spirits of every human he came in contact with and even those amongst us who never laid eyes on him but know his story.
Upon hearing the news that the World Trade Center had been hit, Father Mike rushed to the site. He was met by the Mayor of New York, Rudolph Giuliani, who asked him to pray for the city and its victims. He administered the Last Rites to some lying on the streets, then entered the lobby of the World Trade Center North Tower, where an emergency command post was organized. There he continued offering aid and prayers for the rescuers, the injured and dead.
When the South Tower collapsed at 9:59 am, debris went flying through the North Tower lobby, killing many inside, including Father Mike. At the moment he was struck in the head and killed, he was repeatedly praying aloud, "Jesus, please end this right now! God, please end this!", according to Judge's biographer and New York Daily News columnist Michael Daly.
Shortly after his death, a NYPD lieutenant, who had also been buried in the collapse, found Father Mike's body and, assisted by two firemen and two civilian bystanders, carried it out of the lobby to nearby St Peter's Church, where they lovingly laid him on the altar.
3,000 people attended his funeral on September 15, 2001, at St Francis of Assisi Church in Manhattan. Cardinal Edward Egan presided over the funeral Mass. Former President Bill Clinton, who attended the funeral, said that Father Mike's death was "a special loss. We should lift his life up as an example of what has to prevail ... We have to be more like Father Mike than the people who killed him."
Jennifer Senior writes, in New York magazine, "One month after Mychal Judge's body was pulled from the shattered lobby of 1 World Trade Center, and three weeks after his televised funeral, some of the friar's friends decided to hold a smaller memorial evening of Celtic music and storytelling. Priests, nuns, lawyers, cops, firefighters, homeless people, rock-and-rollers, recovering alcoholics, local politicians, and middle-aged couples from the suburbs all streamed into the Good Shepherd Chapel on Ninth Avenue. Pete Hamill read one of his columns from the Daily News, the Irish band Morning Star played jigs and reels, and Malachy McCourt -- actor, author, and irrepressible raconteur -- stationed himself by the altar, briskly moving things along as emcee. The crowd was so motley, so colorful, it looked like the setup to a joke. (A priest, a lawyer, and an Irishman walk into a bar . . . )"
Father Mike was a long-term member of Dignity, a Catholic LGBT activist organization that advocates for change in the Catholic Church's teaching on homosexuality.
He disagreed with official Roman Catholic teaching, though by all accounts he remained celibate. Father Mike often asked, "Is there so much love in the world that we can afford to discriminate against any kind of love?" I have to agree, and feel this is an appropriate thought with which to end this beautiful story about a man who exuded Love with every fiber of his being. May we all reach out in our own little orbits and follow his exemplary lead. Please God, may we all.
--Jo VonBargen 2013
I first learned of Father Mychal Judge on that horrible day in 2001, the day the twin towers came down. I watched as grieving firemen lovingly carried his body out of the North tower's smoking rubble. His was the first of many, many bodies that would be found that day.
I did not know Father Mike, but I truly wish I had. I am honored to know his story through those who knew him personally. Robert Emmet (Mychal) Judge was the son of Irish Catholic immigrants from County Leitrim and the firstborn of a pair of fraternal twins. With his twin sister Dympna and his older sister Erin, he grew up in Brooklyn, during the Great Depression. His lifelong affinity for the poor began at a young age; he often gave his only quarter to beggars on the street.
At the age of six, he watched his father die of a slow and painful illness. To compensate for his father's inability to work, Judge shined shoes at New York Penn Station from where he would visit St Francis of Assisi Church on West 31st Street. Seeing the Franciscan friars there, he later said, "I realized that I didn't care for material things ... I knew then that I wanted to be a friar."
In 1948, at the age of 15, Judge began the formation process to enter the Franciscan community. He trained at three seminaries in New York, New Jersey, and New Hampshire before receiving his BA degree from St. Bonaventure University. He completed his training and was ordained a priest at Holy Name College in Washington, DC in 1961. Upon entering the Order of Friars Minor, he took the religious name of Michael, later changing the spelling to Mychal.
From 1961 to 1986, Father Mychal Judge served at St Anthony Shrine in Boston, St Joseph Parish in East Rutherford, NJ, Sacred Heart Parish in Rochelle Park, NJ, and St Joseph Parish in West Milford, NJ. For three years he served as assistant to the president at Siena College in Loudonville, NY. In 1986, he was assigned to the monastery of St Francis of Assisi Church on West 31st Street, New York, where he lived and worked until his death in 2001. Around 1971, Father Mike became an alcoholic, although he never showed obvious signs. In 1978, with the support of Alcoholics Anonymous, he became sober and continued to share his personal story of alcoholism to help others facing addiction
In 1992, Father Judge was appointed chaplain of the Fire Department of New York. As chaplain, he offered encouragement and prayers at fires, rescues, and hospitals, and counseled firemen and their families, often working 16 hour days. "His whole ministry was about love. Mychal loved the fire department and they loved him."He was a member of AFSCME Local 299 (District Council 37).
In New York, he was also well known for ministering to the homeless, the hungry, recovering alcoholics, people with AIDS, the sick, injured, and grieving, immigrants, gays and lesbians and those alienated by the Church and society.
For example, he once gave the winter coat off his back to a homeless woman in the street, later saying, "She needed it more than me." When he anointed a man who was dying of AIDS, the man asked him, "Do you think God hates me?" Father Mike just picked him up, kissed him, and silently rocked him in his arms. A gay man himself, though not practicing, he never tried to hide his orientation from others. It was this orientation that led him to work tirelessly ministering to AIDS victims when the epidemic first came into the public's awareness. He was among the first to not shrink back in mindless fear when in the presence of anyone suffering from the virus. When he would minister in the hospitals which were now full of dying patients, he most likely was the only solace to these who suffered so terribly, first from the disease, then from abandonment by family and friends.
If he encountered a patient who wanted nothing to do with the church or its representatives, having been outcast as a leper or worse, he developed a technique to reach even the most bitter among them. Father Mike carried a bottle of anointed oil with him everywhere. He would walk in, introduce himself, and boldly remove the sheets from the patient's feet and legs which were usually covered with horrible lesions. Then he would lovingly oil their feet and give them a soothing foot massage while speaking to them in a soft, low voice. Few could resist this loving kindness, and there were hundreds, if not thousands, of suffering souls he loved back to their lost sense of hope. Even before his death, many considered Father Mychal Judge to be a living saint for his extraordinary works of charity and his deep spirituality. As surely as Jesus Christ once walked among us, he lived among us again as Father Mike. This remarkable man didn't preach love, he WAS love. And he gave it so freely with every ounce of his being that he lives on today in the spirits of every human he came in contact with and even those amongst us who never laid eyes on him but know his story.
Upon hearing the news that the World Trade Center had been hit, Father Mike rushed to the site. He was met by the Mayor of New York, Rudolph Giuliani, who asked him to pray for the city and its victims. He administered the Last Rites to some lying on the streets, then entered the lobby of the World Trade Center North Tower, where an emergency command post was organized. There he continued offering aid and prayers for the rescuers, the injured and dead.
When the South Tower collapsed at 9:59 am, debris went flying through the North Tower lobby, killing many inside, including Father Mike. At the moment he was struck in the head and killed, he was repeatedly praying aloud, "Jesus, please end this right now! God, please end this!", according to Judge's biographer and New York Daily News columnist Michael Daly.
Shortly after his death, a NYPD lieutenant, who had also been buried in the collapse, found Father Mike's body and, assisted by two firemen and two civilian bystanders, carried it out of the lobby to nearby St Peter's Church, where they lovingly laid him on the altar.
3,000 people attended his funeral on September 15, 2001, at St Francis of Assisi Church in Manhattan. Cardinal Edward Egan presided over the funeral Mass. Former President Bill Clinton, who attended the funeral, said that Father Mike's death was "a special loss. We should lift his life up as an example of what has to prevail ... We have to be more like Father Mike than the people who killed him."
Jennifer Senior writes, in New York magazine, "One month after Mychal Judge's body was pulled from the shattered lobby of 1 World Trade Center, and three weeks after his televised funeral, some of the friar's friends decided to hold a smaller memorial evening of Celtic music and storytelling. Priests, nuns, lawyers, cops, firefighters, homeless people, rock-and-rollers, recovering alcoholics, local politicians, and middle-aged couples from the suburbs all streamed into the Good Shepherd Chapel on Ninth Avenue. Pete Hamill read one of his columns from the Daily News, the Irish band Morning Star played jigs and reels, and Malachy McCourt -- actor, author, and irrepressible raconteur -- stationed himself by the altar, briskly moving things along as emcee. The crowd was so motley, so colorful, it looked like the setup to a joke. (A priest, a lawyer, and an Irishman walk into a bar . . . )"
Father Mike was a long-term member of Dignity, a Catholic LGBT activist organization that advocates for change in the Catholic Church's teaching on homosexuality.
He disagreed with official Roman Catholic teaching, though by all accounts he remained celibate. Father Mike often asked, "Is there so much love in the world that we can afford to discriminate against any kind of love?" I have to agree, and feel this is an appropriate thought with which to end this beautiful story about a man who exuded Love with every fiber of his being. May we all reach out in our own little orbits and follow his exemplary lead. Please God, may we all.
--Jo VonBargen 2013
