Last weekend marked my first visit to the World Trade Center site in Manhattan since the devastating attack of September, 2001. Like most other Americans, I had raptly followed the awful events on television and the other media. But actually being there, I discovered, makes a difference.

By now, the rubble has been cleared out of the huge craters where the great buildings rose. Chain link fences allow visitors to look inside but not to enter. My gaze was drawn to the awkward cross made of steel building fragments constructed a fireman to commemorate the people who died. It serves as a stark reminder of their bright lives and of what they meant to others.

The surrounding buildings show no obvious signs of damage at this time and business has resumed, though at a much lower level. Vendors stand on sidewalks nearby selling photos and other memorabilia to tourists. Down in the excavation workers continue to rebuild underground systems.

One block away, on Wall Street, I also visited St. Paul’s, the oldest church in New York, dating from 1766. George Washington worshiped there on the day of his inauguration, and at other times as well, since New York was still the seat of the federal government.

Before the events of September 2001, St. Paul’s Chapel was already a national landmark. It has always boasted a simple beauty of design, a classic building both exteriorly and inside. Now it would take on new standing because of its response to the tragedy.

After narrowly escaping destruction, this church was reborn on September 11; it quickly became a center for providing food and respite to the emergency workers at the site. Visitors can still see the black smudges on the pews where exhausted workers lay down to rest with their boots on. Wisely, the church authorities have left these marks as a sign of the dedication of people who worked themselves long and hard.

St. Paul’s thus became the site for various forms of ministry over the next several weeks and months.  Meals were served, healing conversations took place, clothing and needed gear were provided, and people were given a sense of a community of caring.

So the rich background of this oldest New York church took on an additional layer of history. Now, in addition to being valued for its association with the beginnings of the American republic, St. Paul’s will be associated with the events of September 11th as long as the structure endures. If every church is a holy place, this place is doubly so by reason of its invaluable role in responding to a national tragedy.

The building would have been leveled by the blast that leveled the twin towers except for the force being absorbed by an old sycamore tree that stood in the church yard. According to information on a panel outside the church, the building could not have withstood the physical forces that destroyed the twin towers. As it was, the church exterior was covered by ash from the great fires and the church yard and burial ground overlaid with papers and other debris.

Can one see in this escape the work of God’s providence acting to safeguard a spiritual resource for the community devastated by so much loss? Whatever the answer, the ministry of St. Paul’s continues and now envelops tourists who come from all over the world to relive the events of that fateful day.

As I walked slowly through the interior of the church, I felt the sacred character of the place. Along side aisles of the church, colored banners are hung as tributes from people who live in other parts of the country. They give testimony to the devotion people at large feel toward those who died on September 11th  and to those who worked to recover their bodies.

Something stirred within me as I reflected on the dire events of that time as well as on the generous responses of both those in the rescue forces and those who ministered to them. This was an outpouring of charity, the greatest of spiritual gifts and the sign of God’s presence. I felt glad finally to be in this spot so many months after the dire events commemorated here.

Richard Griffin