“What can a priest offer when nothing can be fixed? Presence”. Bishop John S. Bonnici of Rochester was a priest in the Archdiocese of New York on 11 September 2001. That morning, he walked home amid the flow of people fleeing Lower Manhattan and found his room covered in dust. The following day, he went to Ground Zero, where the food court in Battery Park City had been turned into a makeshift morgue. Twenty-five years on, in a time marked by wars and hateful rhetoric, he looks back on those hours and on the fraternity that followed.
(Foto OSV News)
Your Excellency, which image of 11 September has stayed with you most vividly?
I remember setting off towards home amid the flow of people fleeing Lower Manhattan: almost all of them were covered in dust. One of the images that has stayed with me is that of a homeless man, also covered in dust, holding a handwritten sign that read: “Repent and believe, for the kingdom of God is at hand”. Those words, read in that context, resonated with me and, I am certain, with many others as well. They were a reminder to place our trust in the Lord, to recognise that he was with us even amid that horror, and to look ahead in the hope of change and healing.
The following day you went down to Ground Zero. What can a priest offer when nothing can be fixed?
We set out early in the morning with another priest. After passing through several checkpoints and receiving protective masks, we reached the site. We waited for volunteers, firefighters, first responders and police officers to bring in the remains of the victims. I found myself sitting next to two first responders. They were exhausted, shaken and covered in dust. The anguish on their faces was palpable. One of them asked whether I would like something for breakfast. I said no, but he insisted: “What would be a perfect breakfast for you?”. Almost jokingly, I replied: “Two fried eggs with runny yolks, home fries and a toasted bagel”. After a while, the two men disappeared. They returned with breakfast from a diner outside the area: the package contained exactly what I had described. I asked them why they had gone to so much trouble. One of them replied: “Your mere presence here, as a representative of God, gives us hope”. That, then, is what a priest can offer: presence. Being present as instruments of God’s grace can make a difference in any situation.
(Foto AFP/SIR)
New York also experienced extraordinary kindness and fraternity. What remains of that solidarity?
In the days that followed, New Yorkers, who sometimes have a reputation for being distant, drew closer to one another in many ways. Churches, synagogues and mosques were filled: people simply gathered to support one another. People greeted each other, held doors open for others, and showed greater patience in traffic and on the underground. Suddenly, the person beside us was no longer an anonymous and distant figure, but a human being like us, created in the image and likeness of God. As time passed, that sense of fraternity faded. Twenty-five years on, we must humbly heed the call to rekindle it.
How can the memory of the victims be honoured without it being used to justify fear or prejudice against entire peoples and religions?
In looking at the horror and the moments of grace that followed, we must remember that every person, created in the image and likeness of God, is worthy of respect and love. Today’s world has become increasingly individualistic, partly as a result of technology. So-called friends on social media and algorithms that feed our prejudices, sympathies and antipathies have produced a society marked by loneliness, isolation and deep polarisation, in which at times we no longer know how to recognise in the person next to us our neighbour and a potential friend.
What responsibility do the Church and religious leaders have today to ensure that fear does not turn the other into an enemy?
I am convinced that religious and non-religious leaders, on this solemn anniversary, have both the responsibility and the opportunity to awaken in themselves, in those entrusted to their care and in the wider community an awareness of the need to stop, reflect and rediscover the image of God in every person we encounter. By translating our love of God and neighbour into everyday actions, we can truly change the climate we experience today, which is so difficult not only in the United States but throughout the world, and make it better: one person at a time, one act of love at a time. This sad and solemn anniversary is also an invitation to rediscover and live God’s love in all its strength, making it concrete in our relationships.
The post 11 September 2001, the Ground Zero morgue. Bishop Bonnici: “When nothing can be fixed, what remains is presence” first appeared on AgenSIR.