Open the cause for Father Mychal F. Judge's canonization
The Issue
Open the Cause for Father Mychal F. Judge’s Canonization on the 25th Anniversary of 9/11
Oblatio Vitae: The Happiest Man Alive at the Threshold of Sainthood
When Father Mychal Judge was appointed chaplain to the New York City Fire Department, he said, “I always wanted to be a priest or a fireman. Now I’m both.” He told his closest friends, “I don’t need a thing in the world. I am the happiest man on the face of the earth.” His life was a testament to joy. His final hour became the definition of oblatio vitae—the offering of life.
In 2017, Pope Francis opened this path to official investigation for sainthood. Maiorem hac dilectionem takes its title from John 15:13: “Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” The Church now recognizes that a free, voluntary, and heroic gift of one’s life out of charity—accepted in the face of certain and untimely death—can itself be examined as a road to the altars. We are not asking the Church to declare him a saint by applause. We are asking it to investigate his sacrifice while the people who watched him live and die can still testify.
A chaplain who belonged to his men
As FDNY chaplain, Father Mychal’s bond with the firefighters went far beyond an official title. He did not merely visit them. He shared their lives. He lived alongside them in the firehouses, sat at their tables cooking and eating, married them, and baptized their children. When the station bells rang, he ran with them.
His friend Father Michael Duffy said everyone thought Mychal Judge was their best friend. When he spoke with you, you were the only person on the face of the earth. That is why he entered the North Tower on September 11. He went because his men were going.
The day before, on September 10, 2001, he preached at the rededication of Engine 73 / Ladder 42 in the Bronx:
“That’s the way it is. Good days. And bad days. Up days. Down days. Sad days. Happy days. But never a boring day on this job. You do what God has called you to do. You show up. You put one foot in front of another. You get on the rig and you go out and you do the job—which is a mystery. And a surprise. You have no idea when you get on that rig. No matter how big the call. No matter how small. You have no idea what God is calling you to. But He needs you. He needs me. He needs all of us.”
The next morning, he got on the rig.
The visual record of his offering
The Naudet brothers’ footage preserves what the firefighters later tried to say in words. In the dark, dusty lobby of the North Tower, amid falling debris and sirens, Father Mychal paces and prays. His lips move. Those who knew him said he was not talking to himself. He was praying for the men heading up the stairs and for the people falling from the floors above.
Father Duffy testified that this was the purpose of Mychal’s chaplaincy: to bring the firefighters to the point of death so they would be ready to meet their Maker. He could not anoint them all in this life. It was physically impossible. As Victim 0001—the first officially certified fatality of the attacks—Duffy said he went first so he could greet them on the other side, instead of only sending them there.
When a civilian fell from the upper floors and struck a firefighter, Father Mychal moved toward the wounded. He removed his helmet to pray. He was killed when the collapse of the South Tower sent a blast of debris through the North Tower lobby.
Firefighters and rescue workers found him in the dark. They refused to leave their shepherd. They carried him through the ash and laid him before the altar of St. Peter’s Church on Barclay Street. The photograph of that procession has been called a modern Pietà. Recorded as Victim 0001, he was the first to cross over—the priest who stood at the threshold, then became the escort.
That is the mystery named in In Paradisum: “May the angels lead you into paradise; may the martyrs come to welcome you.” Father Mychal had spent his priesthood at thresholds—homeless shelters, AIDS wards, hospital rooms, firehouse kitchens. On September 11 he stood at the last one.
His holiness was how he lived
His offering did not begin at 8:46 a.m. He ministered to the homeless and the poor. He walked with people fighting addiction, including through his own recovery. He cared for AIDS patients when fear and stigma made many stay away. He showed radical love to people the Church itself sometimes kept at a distance. He lived by a prayer that sounds almost too simple until you watch him keep it:
“Lord, take me where You want me to go;
let me meet who You want me to meet;
tell me what You want me to say;
and keep me out of Your way.”
That prayer was answered with terrible exactness.
His reputation has not faded. Every year, firefighters, police officers, survivors, and ordinary people still walk the Father Mychal Judge Walk of Remembrance through Manhattan, retracing his last route and ending at the church where his body was laid. A new generation now knows September 11 only from history. They still meet him there. As Victim 0001, he also stands at the head of the long procession of first responders and survivors who have died since from 9/11-related illness.
Why this matters to me
This effort is personal. On September 11, 2001, I was a second-grade student at Saint Rose Elementary School in Belmar, New Jersey, though much of my childhood was spent in Manhattan as a child model for Ford Models. I did not yet have words for what that morning would mean. I do now.
My grandfather, Deacon Dr. Anthony N. Di Cesare of the Diocese of Trenton, recently passed away. He is the reason I cannot leave this petition as a distant historical request. Father Mychal’s self-gift reminds me of my grandfather’s life poured out for other people.
My grandfather was a periodontist and taught at New York University. He was ahead of his time. Patients and staff loved him because he did not only treat people. He made them feel safe and seen. The obituary said he had a gift for finding potential in people others overlooked, and a soft spot for underdogs. That is not a small resemblance. Father Mychal had the same pastoral heartbeat in a different uniform: the ability to make a firefighter, a homeless man, an AIDS patient, or a stranger in a doorway feel like the only person in the room.
As a Catholic deacon, my grandfather lived a rare completeness of grace, receiving all seven sacraments across his lifetime. That completeness was visible at his funeral: he was surrounded by his seven children and honored by seven priests concelebrating at the altar.
It was in his last moments that the connection to Father Mychal became unmistakable to me. Out of every song I have ever known, I felt an overwhelming need to sing “May the Choirs of Angels” and In Paradisum. I did not choose those chants because they were pretty. They are the Church’s prayer of safe passage—the liturgy of the holy escort. “May the angels lead you into paradise.”
I understand now why those words rose up. I was doing, in a quiet room, what Father Mychal was seen doing in the North Tower lobby: standing at the edge of eternity and helping a soul cross. I believe he was not a bystander caught in a disaster. I believe he was, as Victim 0001, sent ahead—the first companion, the priest who prepared his men for death and then went first to welcome them. He ministered in the stairwells and the dust. Then he stood at the gates.
My grandfather made people feel safe in this world. Father Mychal made men feel safe enough to walk into fire, and then walked ahead of them into the next life. That is why I am asking the Church not for a slogan, but for an investigation.
We cannot wait for a future generation
Church leadership has delayed his cause for years. Some of that hesitation has been attributed to discomfort with the marginalized people he refused to abandon. There has been talk of leaving this to a later generation. It has already been 25 years. The Franciscan friars, firefighters, and friends who knew him are growing older. Testimonies must be gathered now, under the Church’s own process, before those voices are lost.
Pope Francis gave the Church the framework. The witnesses are still here. The photograph, the film, the homily from September 10, and the reputation that will not die are already in the record. What is missing is the official will to look.
How you can support the cause
• Sign and share this petition. A living reputation of holiness is one of the things the Church itself requires.
• Write respectfully to your bishop, diocese, parish priests, and Franciscan leadership. Urge them to support opening the cause with the Archdiocese of New York and the Franciscan Order.
• Learn his life. Watch the documentaries available to the public, including Saint of 9/11 and Victim 0001.
• Submit testimony. Groundwork is already underway. New Ways Ministry has been collecting first-hand accounts, correspondence, and reports of favors sought through Father Mychal’s intercession. If you have something to give, write it down.
• Pray. Pray for the opening of the cause. Share his story in your parish. Ask his intercession for first responders still carrying September 11 in their bodies and their sleep.
Our Lord said, “Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13)
Twenty-five years after Father Mychal was laid before the altar at St. Peter’s, the time has come to let the investigation begin. Please sign and share this.
31
The Issue
Open the Cause for Father Mychal F. Judge’s Canonization on the 25th Anniversary of 9/11
Oblatio Vitae: The Happiest Man Alive at the Threshold of Sainthood
When Father Mychal Judge was appointed chaplain to the New York City Fire Department, he said, “I always wanted to be a priest or a fireman. Now I’m both.” He told his closest friends, “I don’t need a thing in the world. I am the happiest man on the face of the earth.” His life was a testament to joy. His final hour became the definition of oblatio vitae—the offering of life.
In 2017, Pope Francis opened this path to official investigation for sainthood. Maiorem hac dilectionem takes its title from John 15:13: “Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” The Church now recognizes that a free, voluntary, and heroic gift of one’s life out of charity—accepted in the face of certain and untimely death—can itself be examined as a road to the altars. We are not asking the Church to declare him a saint by applause. We are asking it to investigate his sacrifice while the people who watched him live and die can still testify.
A chaplain who belonged to his men
As FDNY chaplain, Father Mychal’s bond with the firefighters went far beyond an official title. He did not merely visit them. He shared their lives. He lived alongside them in the firehouses, sat at their tables cooking and eating, married them, and baptized their children. When the station bells rang, he ran with them.
His friend Father Michael Duffy said everyone thought Mychal Judge was their best friend. When he spoke with you, you were the only person on the face of the earth. That is why he entered the North Tower on September 11. He went because his men were going.
The day before, on September 10, 2001, he preached at the rededication of Engine 73 / Ladder 42 in the Bronx:
“That’s the way it is. Good days. And bad days. Up days. Down days. Sad days. Happy days. But never a boring day on this job. You do what God has called you to do. You show up. You put one foot in front of another. You get on the rig and you go out and you do the job—which is a mystery. And a surprise. You have no idea when you get on that rig. No matter how big the call. No matter how small. You have no idea what God is calling you to. But He needs you. He needs me. He needs all of us.”
The next morning, he got on the rig.
The visual record of his offering
The Naudet brothers’ footage preserves what the firefighters later tried to say in words. In the dark, dusty lobby of the North Tower, amid falling debris and sirens, Father Mychal paces and prays. His lips move. Those who knew him said he was not talking to himself. He was praying for the men heading up the stairs and for the people falling from the floors above.
Father Duffy testified that this was the purpose of Mychal’s chaplaincy: to bring the firefighters to the point of death so they would be ready to meet their Maker. He could not anoint them all in this life. It was physically impossible. As Victim 0001—the first officially certified fatality of the attacks—Duffy said he went first so he could greet them on the other side, instead of only sending them there.
When a civilian fell from the upper floors and struck a firefighter, Father Mychal moved toward the wounded. He removed his helmet to pray. He was killed when the collapse of the South Tower sent a blast of debris through the North Tower lobby.
Firefighters and rescue workers found him in the dark. They refused to leave their shepherd. They carried him through the ash and laid him before the altar of St. Peter’s Church on Barclay Street. The photograph of that procession has been called a modern Pietà. Recorded as Victim 0001, he was the first to cross over—the priest who stood at the threshold, then became the escort.
That is the mystery named in In Paradisum: “May the angels lead you into paradise; may the martyrs come to welcome you.” Father Mychal had spent his priesthood at thresholds—homeless shelters, AIDS wards, hospital rooms, firehouse kitchens. On September 11 he stood at the last one.
His holiness was how he lived
His offering did not begin at 8:46 a.m. He ministered to the homeless and the poor. He walked with people fighting addiction, including through his own recovery. He cared for AIDS patients when fear and stigma made many stay away. He showed radical love to people the Church itself sometimes kept at a distance. He lived by a prayer that sounds almost too simple until you watch him keep it:
“Lord, take me where You want me to go;
let me meet who You want me to meet;
tell me what You want me to say;
and keep me out of Your way.”
That prayer was answered with terrible exactness.
His reputation has not faded. Every year, firefighters, police officers, survivors, and ordinary people still walk the Father Mychal Judge Walk of Remembrance through Manhattan, retracing his last route and ending at the church where his body was laid. A new generation now knows September 11 only from history. They still meet him there. As Victim 0001, he also stands at the head of the long procession of first responders and survivors who have died since from 9/11-related illness.
Why this matters to me
This effort is personal. On September 11, 2001, I was a second-grade student at Saint Rose Elementary School in Belmar, New Jersey, though much of my childhood was spent in Manhattan as a child model for Ford Models. I did not yet have words for what that morning would mean. I do now.
My grandfather, Deacon Dr. Anthony N. Di Cesare of the Diocese of Trenton, recently passed away. He is the reason I cannot leave this petition as a distant historical request. Father Mychal’s self-gift reminds me of my grandfather’s life poured out for other people.
My grandfather was a periodontist and taught at New York University. He was ahead of his time. Patients and staff loved him because he did not only treat people. He made them feel safe and seen. The obituary said he had a gift for finding potential in people others overlooked, and a soft spot for underdogs. That is not a small resemblance. Father Mychal had the same pastoral heartbeat in a different uniform: the ability to make a firefighter, a homeless man, an AIDS patient, or a stranger in a doorway feel like the only person in the room.
As a Catholic deacon, my grandfather lived a rare completeness of grace, receiving all seven sacraments across his lifetime. That completeness was visible at his funeral: he was surrounded by his seven children and honored by seven priests concelebrating at the altar.
It was in his last moments that the connection to Father Mychal became unmistakable to me. Out of every song I have ever known, I felt an overwhelming need to sing “May the Choirs of Angels” and In Paradisum. I did not choose those chants because they were pretty. They are the Church’s prayer of safe passage—the liturgy of the holy escort. “May the angels lead you into paradise.”
I understand now why those words rose up. I was doing, in a quiet room, what Father Mychal was seen doing in the North Tower lobby: standing at the edge of eternity and helping a soul cross. I believe he was not a bystander caught in a disaster. I believe he was, as Victim 0001, sent ahead—the first companion, the priest who prepared his men for death and then went first to welcome them. He ministered in the stairwells and the dust. Then he stood at the gates.
My grandfather made people feel safe in this world. Father Mychal made men feel safe enough to walk into fire, and then walked ahead of them into the next life. That is why I am asking the Church not for a slogan, but for an investigation.
We cannot wait for a future generation
Church leadership has delayed his cause for years. Some of that hesitation has been attributed to discomfort with the marginalized people he refused to abandon. There has been talk of leaving this to a later generation. It has already been 25 years. The Franciscan friars, firefighters, and friends who knew him are growing older. Testimonies must be gathered now, under the Church’s own process, before those voices are lost.
Pope Francis gave the Church the framework. The witnesses are still here. The photograph, the film, the homily from September 10, and the reputation that will not die are already in the record. What is missing is the official will to look.
How you can support the cause
• Sign and share this petition. A living reputation of holiness is one of the things the Church itself requires.
• Write respectfully to your bishop, diocese, parish priests, and Franciscan leadership. Urge them to support opening the cause with the Archdiocese of New York and the Franciscan Order.
• Learn his life. Watch the documentaries available to the public, including Saint of 9/11 and Victim 0001.
• Submit testimony. Groundwork is already underway. New Ways Ministry has been collecting first-hand accounts, correspondence, and reports of favors sought through Father Mychal’s intercession. If you have something to give, write it down.
• Pray. Pray for the opening of the cause. Share his story in your parish. Ask his intercession for first responders still carrying September 11 in their bodies and their sleep.
Our Lord said, “Greater love than this no man hath, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13)
Twenty-five years after Father Mychal was laid before the altar at St. Peter’s, the time has come to let the investigation begin. Please sign and share this.
The Decision Makers
Petition Updates
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Petition created on September 10, 2026