Transfiguration

When my siblings gather for a reunion, we sometimes share stories of our childhood years together. My brother, seven years my junior, once related some episodes with me that I had no recollection of, a reminder that we don’t remember everything that has happened in our lives. We recall the meaningful events, while many incidents are long forgotten.
 
One unforgettable event in the life of Jesus that Peter, James and John never forgot was so profound, that it was recounted in all three synoptic gospels. A light shattering experience, you could say, as they viewed the glory of Jesus in the presence of Moses and Elijah. At first they were terrified, then subdued by what they had seen and heard.
 
After Jesus had risen from the dead, they did share their experience. In his letter, St. Peter recalls the event well, asserting that he was an eye witness of Jesus’ majesty, telling his listeners that he heard a voice from heaven, saying, “This is my son, my beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
 
On this date, 61 years ago, the world witnessed another bright light, one that exploded over the city of Hiroshima, Japan at 8:15 in the morning of August 6, 1945. Just as the world has remembered the transfiguration of Jesus for the past 2000 years, the citizens of that city pray that the world will never forget what happened as a day of disfiguration for the people of Hiroshima.  Above their city, there rose a strange gigantic mushroomed shaped cloud but this time no voice was heard saying, “Listen to him.”
 
Unlike the apostles, the survivors that day did not exclaim, “How good it is for us to be here.” When they dared to look up, they didn’t see Jesus. All around them was havoc, destruction and an eerie silence.
 
Survivors of the atomic blast are known as hibakusha. Fifteen years old at the time, one survivor, Michiko Yamaoka was a half mile from the epicenter of the explosion. Badly disfigured by burns, she endured years of discrimination.  Fifty years later at a high school in Maryland, Michiko had this to say, “I am not a scholar or a politician. I have no intention of being drawn into a political debate about whether dropping the bomb was a justifiable act. I only know what I suffered personally, and that is what I will speak about. The children I speak to must know never to repeat the horrors of the past. They are responsible for building the future. As a hibaksusha, it is my duty to inform them.”
 
The atom bombs ended the most savage and costly war ever fought but daily headlines remind us often that the tragedy of war still prevails. The toll of innocent lives killed since the end of World War II should leave us wondering if the lesson of Hiroshima will ever be learned and why after 2000 years we are still reluctant to follow God’s advice and listen to his beloved son.
 
Three years after the bombing of Hiroshima, Fr. Bernard Mullahy of Notre Dame University wrote this profound reflection:
“Once atomic energy had been locked up in the heart of matter, matter was bound to become explosive. Once all the power and light of the Godhead had been put into human life in the incarnation, Christ was bound to be the most explosive and revolutionary character that ever walked the face of the earth. He was bound to start a chain reaction which would extend across all space and time. At baptism a share of the divine energy that radiated from Christ on Mt. Tabor is put into the soul. From then on, the life of the Christian is to radiate the Christ-like. The radiation is the only thing that can save our atomic era.”
 
Like Michiko, I am not a scholar or a politician. I have no intention of being drawn into a political debate on the merit of the present conflict in the Middle East. But Fr. Mullahy’s comments raise a timely challenge for us as do St. Peter’s words of wisdom. Namely, we would do well to be attentive to God’s beloved son and listen to him.
 
On this feast of the Transfiguration in the year 2006, instead of forgetting the disfiguration of August 6, 1945, we must recommit ourselves to the mission that Jesus repeatedly gives us to radiate his love and light in a world that continues to be darkened by the sins of war and violence. In 1981, when visiting Hiroshima, Pope John Paul II said, “War is the work of man. War is the destruction of human life. War is death. To remember the past is to commit oneself to the future. To remember Hiroshima is to abhor nuclear war. To remember Hiroshima is to commit oneself to peace. One must affirm and reaffirm, again and again, that the waging of war is not inevitable or unchangeable. Humanity is not destined to self-destruction.”  His predecessor, Pope Paul VI, once said, “If you want peace, then work for justice.”
 
By our actions, words, and values, we are the light that illuminates rather than blinds the world around us. We are the light that can build up this war torn world of ours. We do that by remembering Jesus isn’t holed up in some distant tent; he lives in our hearts. His constant presence allows us to say wherever we are and in the midst of whatever we are doing, “Rabbi, it is good that we are here!” If we practice forgiveness, kindness, and compassion, we have a glorious future. Strengthened by this Eucharist, may we be Christ like and bring that message of hope to all we encounter.