The Power of Sacrifice

On Sunday, April 20, 2008, I was sitting in (the old) Yankee Stadium, the Bronx, New York, N.Y., dressed in cassock, surplice and stole, awaiting the second public Mass by Pope Benedict XVI on his first (and maybe only?) trip to the U.S.A.

I had been one of 80 blessed individuals invited by the Catholic Diocese of Pittsburgh to represent our local church at this Mass.  (Another larger contingent, 300 young people, were invited by then-Archbishop Donald Wuerl to Nationals Stadium in Washington, D.C., a few days earlier for the pope's other Mass in our country.)  Somehow several of us Pittsburgh priests were contacted by the New York office of the organizer of the papal visit, and asked if we wished to help distribute Holy Communion at the Mass.  A double blessing!  We got prime seats, assisted in the Mass, and were soon to stand only feet from the pope as he prayed the Eucharistic Prayer.

Our two buses had to leave our hotel in the wilds of New Jersey that Sunday at 7:00 a.m. to allow enough time to travel into New York City, find our parking lot, and get through security.  The Mass was scheduled to begin at 2:00 p.m., but the stands were full of 59,000 faithful by 9:30 a.m.  About 11:00 began "A Concert of Hope," arranged by the host Archdiocese of New York.  The concert was obviously offered to entertain the folks in the seats while waiting for the pope to arrive in his popemobile, and the Eucharist to commence.  But the musicians (including Stephanie Mills, Jose Feliciano, the West Point Choir, Harry Connick Jr.) went far beyond entertainment.  They provided true spiritual preparation for the liturgy.

The weekend visit to New York City by the pontiff had already made worldwide headlines.  Pope Benedict had met with six victims of sexual abuse by priests in private.  This was a first for any pope, and a clear, public signal that "he got it," that Benedict understood the severity of the clergy abuse scandal, not just in the U.S. but terribly across our universal church.  He reached out to victims as a pastor could, and should.

Pope Benedict earlier that spring morning had also visited Ground Zero in lower Manhattan.  He added his prayers and presence at that holy ground to those of millions, in a call for an end of terrorism and attacks anywhere against innocent human life.

So there I was, sitting only feet from the historic baseball field of Ruth, Gerhig, Mantle, Maris, Stengel, Berra, Ford, Jeter and Rivera.  (And where Pope Paul VI had presided at Mass on his first and only visit to our country back in 1965.)  As the concert unfolded, a distinguished singer dressed in tuxedo took the stage.  From his accent it was clear he was Irish.  Without introducing himself he spoke about his first song.  He said this was not just a song by an American rock musician, but one which people everywhere could make their own, as we gathered in the dark and deadly shadow of the collapse of the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001.

Then tenor Ronan Tynan began to sing in ballad fashion:


Into the Fire

By Bruce Springsteen

The sky was falling and streaked with blood
I heard you calling me, then you disappeared into the dust
Up the stairs, into the fire
Up the stairs, into the fire
I need your kiss, but love and duty called you someplace higher
Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love bring us love

You gave your love to see, in fields of red and autumn brown
You gave your love to me and lay your young body down
Up the stairs, into the fire
Up the stairs, into the fire
I need you near, but love and duty called you someplace higher
Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love bring us love

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May our hope give us hope
May your love bring us love

It was dark, too dark to see, you held me in the light you gave
You lay your hand on me
Then walked into the darkness of your smoky grave
Up the stairs, into the fire
Up the stairs, into the fire
I need your kiss, but love and duty called you someplace higher
Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love bring us love

May your love bring us love

All lyrics copyright Bruce Springsteen


As Tynan sang, it dawned on me that I knew this song.  (Remember, we had no program for any of the musicians or music.)  It was from Springsteen's "The Rising" album, issued the summer after 9/11.  In this album Springsteen offers his thoughts and feelings in song in light of all that took place on and after 9/11.

(If you don't believe me, listen to "Nowhere Man," "World's Apart," "Calling on a Miracle," "Empty Sky," "My City of Ruins," and his anthem of hope, 'The Rising," from the album.)

Then I realized I knew this song well.  I had quoted the chorus in my sermon at my dad's funeral Mass three years earlier.  How many times had I sung this song, and its words lifted my spirits.  Tears were streaming down my cheeks as I quietly sang along with the Irish tenor.

My mind screamed:  He's made the connection!  Ronan Tynan understood the meaning of Springsteen's song, a lament at the sacrifice so many firefighters and other first responders made that fateful day.  For me, the song meant more.  It was an affirmation of the pain and value of sacrifice for another by anyone, whether famed or not.  It was also about my dad and mom, who sacrificed so much of their lives for my brothers and myself, and for many others in their own way.  The Boss may not mention the sacrifice of Jesus Christ our Savior in his song, but to me his Catholic upbringing and sensibility inform every word.

So as we mark the tenth anniversary, to those who died so tragically on September 11, 2001, to all those who tried and did save victims, to those who prevent further terrorist attacks anywhere, and to those peacemakers and peacebuilders who work to eradicate violence and war,

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love bring us love.