'Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.' Sunday Reflections, 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

Saint Peter, El Greco, 1610-13 [Web Gallery of Art]

Monasterio de San Lorenzo, El Escorial, Madrid 

Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

Readings (New American Bible: Philippines, USA)

Readings (Jerusalem Bible: Australia, England & Wales, India [optional], Ireland, New Zealand, Pakistan, Scotland, South Africa)

Gospel John 6:60-69 (New Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, Canada) 

When many of Jesus’ disciples heard it, they said, “This teaching is difficult; who can accept it?” But Jesus, being aware that his disciples were complaining about it, said to them, “Does this offend you? Then what if you were to see the Son of Man ascending to where he was before? It is the spirit that gives life; the flesh is useless. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. But among you there are some who do not believe.” For Jesus knew from the first who were the ones that did not believe, and who was the one that would betray him. And he said, “For this reason I have told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted by the Father.”

Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him. So Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

Pope Francis in Palo, Leyte, Philippines, 17 January 2015 [Wikipedia] 

This Sunday's gospel concludes the Eucharistic Discourse of Chapter 6 of St John's Gospel. The teaching of Jesus that many of his disciples could not accept was what we heard last Sunday: "I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” So Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood. 

St Peter today speaks on behalf of those who stay with Jesus: Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.

In his Angelus audience last Sunday Pope Francis spoke these words which are very relevant to today's gospel. I have highlighted parts of the text.

In these Sundays, the Liturgy proposes to us, from the Gospel of John, Jesus' discourse on the Bread of Life, that is He Himself and that is also the Sacrament of the Eucharist. Today's passage (Jn. 6, 51-58) presents the last part of that discourse, and refers to some of those among the people who are scandalized because Jesus said: "Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day" (Jn. 6,54).

The astonishment of those listening is understandable; in fact, Jesus uses the typical style of the prophets to provoke in the people – and also in us – questions and, in the end, to make a decision. The first of the questions is: What does "eat Jesus' flesh and drink his blood" mean? Is it only an image, a way of saying, a symbol, or does it indicate something real? To answer this, one needs to guess what is happening in Jesus' heart while he breaks the bread for the hungry crowd. Knowing that He must die on the cross for us, Jesus identifies Himself with that broken and shared bread, and that becomes for Him the "sign" of the Sacrifice that awaits Him. This process culminates in the Last Supper, where the bread and wine truly become His Body and His Blood.

It is the Eucharist where Jesus leaves us a precise purpose: that we can become one with Him. In fact, he says: "Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him" (v.56). To remain: Jesus in us and us in Him. Communion is assimilation: eating Him, we become Him. But this requires our "yes", our adherence to the faith.

At times, during the Holy Mass, it may happen to feel this objection: "What is the purpose of the Mass? I go in Church when I feel like it, and I pray better alone." But the Eucharist is not a private prayer or a beautiful spiritual experience, it is not a simple commemoration of what Jesus has done in the Last Supper: we say, to understand well, that the Eucharist is a "memorial", that is, an act that actualizes and makes present the event of the death and resurrection of Jesus: the bread is truly His Body given to us; the wine is truly His Blood that has been shed.

The Eucharist is Jesus who gives Himself entirely to us. By nourishing ourselves from Him and remaining in Him through the Eucharistic Communion, if we do it with faith, it transforms our life; it transforms it into a gift to God and a gift to our brothers. To nourish ourselves from that "bread of life" means being in tune with the heart of Christ, to assimilate His choices, His thoughts, His behavior. It means entering into a dynamic of sacrificial love and become a person of peace, of forgiveness, of reconciliation of sharing in solidarity. It is the same as Jesus has done.

Jesus concludes his discourse with these words; "Whoever eats this bread will live forever" (Jn. 6,58). Yes, living in a concrete, real communion with Jesus on this earth makes us pass from death to life. The heavens begin precisely in this communion with Jesus.

In Heaven, Mary our Mother awaits us – yesterday we celebrated this mystery. May She obtain for us the grace of nourishing ourselves always with faith in Jesus, the Bread of Life.

Servant of God Fr Emil Kapaun celebrating Mass during the Korean War [Wikipedia]

I came to know of Fr Emil Kapaun in my teenage years when I read a biography I came across in a public library in Dublin. I was inspired by his heroism as a chaplain in the US forces during the Korean War. I was delighted to discover that this heroic priest shared a birthday with me, 20 April, and 'cancelled out' another born on that date - Adolf Hitler. (St Rose of Lima, a secondary patroness of the Philippines whose feast coincides with this Sunday, is another on the 'plus' side!)

In the video below it is clear how Father Kapaun, who is being considered for beatification, lived the words of Pope Francis about the Eucharist: To nourish ourselves from that "bread of life" means being in tune with the heart of Christ, to assimilate His choices, His thoughts, His behavior. It means entering into a dynamic of sacrificial love and become a person of peace, of forgiveness, of reconciliation of sharing in solidarity. It is the same as Jesus has done.

In the video [5:38 - 5:56] we hear Fr Kapaun's own voice echoing the words of St Peter in today's gospel: We can be sure to expect that in our own lives there will come a time when we must make a choice that between being loyal to the true faith or of giving allegiance to something else which is either opposed to or not in alliance with our faith.

One cannot but be moved by the description of how Fr Kapaun saved Herbert Miller, a wounded American soldier [2:53 - 3:51]. 'He picked me up and carried me' . . . 'So he carried him for 30 miles.' It means entering into a dynamic of sacrificial love, as Pope Francis said last Sunday.

In the video below it is clear that Chaplain Kapaun utterly believed that in the celebration of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass Jesus the Risen Lord becomes truly present among us and not just symbolically. He put thousands of miles on his jeep to bring the presence of Christ in the Eucharist to the front lines. He often celebrated Mass for them on the hood of his jeep [0:59 - 1:06]. 

In the prison of war camp Fr Kapaun was like a mother to all the soldiers . . . He'd help keep them clean. He'd wash their clothes. He'd lead them in prayer services. He'd celebrate Mass in secret when he could [2:27 - 2:53].

The last thing they saw him do in this life was bless the men who were taking him to his death and pray out loud, 'Father, forgive them for they know not what they do'  [3:33 - 3:44].

The crucifix in the background to those words of Jesus that Fr Kapaun repeated was carved later in his memory by one of his companions in the camp - a Jew.

Surely this heroic priest lived the words of Pope Francis: It means entering into a dynamic of sacrificial love and become a person of peace, of forgiveness, of reconciliation of sharing in solidarity. It is the same as Jesus has done.

The life and death of Fr Emil Joseph Kapaun expressed fully the response of Simon Peter to Jesus, Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.  We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.

A footnote about Fr Kapaun

Fr Kapaun has a Columban connection. He wrote to the Columbans in Omaha, Nebraska, inquiring about the possibility of becoming one. However, his vocation was to be a diocesan priest. In the chapel of the central house of the Columbans in Seoul is a plaque with the names of priests who died during the Korean War as chaplains in the US forces, some of whom used to visit our house. And some of them surely knew some of the seven Columban priests who died in the Korean War and who are being proposed for beatification by the Catholic Church in Korea.

In the two videos above Fr Kapaun's surname is pronounced in different ways: 'capAWN', 'CAPE-un', 'cape-AWN'. As far as I know, the first is correct. 

'The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.' Sunday Reflections, 20th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

From The Gospel of John (2003)  Directed by Philip Saville. Jesus played by Henry Ian Cusick; narrator, Christopher Plummer.

[Today's gospel runs from 1:31 to 2:54]

Readings (New American Bible: Philippines, USA)

Readings (Jerusalem Bible: Australia, England & Wales, India [optional], Ireland, New Zealand, Pakistan, Scotland, South Africa)

Gospel John 6:51-58 (New Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, Canada)  

Jesus said to the crowds:

"I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” So Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.  Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day; for my flesh is true food and my blood is true drink. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood abide in me, and I in them. Just as the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever eats me will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like that which your ancestors ate, and they died. But the one who eats this bread will live forever.”

Mass in the Trenches, The Great War (1914-18)

During his homily in St Peter's Basilica on 26 April this year at the ordination Mass of 19 new priests Pope Francis said: Indeed, in being configured to Christ the eternal High Priest, and joined to the priesthood of their Bishop, they will be consecrated as true priests of the New Testament, to preach the Gospel, to shepherd God’s people, to preside at worship, and especially to celebrate the Lord’s Sacrifice.

In using the words 'being configured to Christ' Pope Francis was echoing what both St John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI taught.

Pope Francis also spoke to the young men of the importance of being ministers of God's mercy, especially through the Sacrament of Penance and the Sacrament of the Sick: Through the Sacrament of Penance you forgive sins in the name of Christ and the Church. And I, in the name of Jesus Christ the Lord and of his Spouse, the Holy Church, ask you all to never tire of being merciful. You are in the confessional to forgive, not to condemn! Imitate the Father who never tires of forgiving. With Chrism oil you will comfort the sick; in celebrating the sacred rites and raising up the prayer of praise and supplication at various hours of the day, you will become the voice of the People of God and of all humanity.

Sometimes being configured to Christ can mean for a priest that, like Jesus himself, he is called to the extent of living those same words in his own life, The bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh. One such priest was Fr William Doyle SJ whose 98th death anniversary is observed this Sunday.

Fr William Doyle SJ

3 March 1873 - 16 August 1917

I am grateful to Pat Kenny, owner of the blog Remembering Fr William Doyle SJ for the information below.

Here is an account of the death of Fr Doyle, which took place in Belgium during the Battle of Passchendaele, also known as The Third Battle of Ypres, from the biography by Alfred O'Rahilly, a university professor who later became a priest:

Fr. Doyle had been engaged from early morning in the front line, cheering and consoling his men, and attending to the many wounded. Soon after 3 p.m. he made his way back to the Regimental Aid Post which was in charge of a Corporal Raitt, the doctor having gone back to the rear some hours before. Whilst here word came in that an officer of the Dublins [editor's note: Royal Dublin Fusiliers, known as the 'Dubs'] had been badly hit, and was lying out in an exposed position. Fr. Doyle at once decided to go out to him, and left the Aid Post with his runner, Private Mclnespie, and a Lieutenant Grant. Some twenty minutes later, at about a quarter to four, Mclnespie staggered into the Aid Post and fell down in a state of collapse from shell shock. Corporal Raitt went to his assistance and after considerable difficulty managed to revive him. His first words on coming back to consciousness were: “Fr. Doyle has been killed!” Then bit by bit the whole story was told. Fr. Doyle had found the wounded officer lying far out in a shell crater. He crawled out to him, absolved and anointed him, and then, half dragging, half carrying the dying man, managed to get him within the line. Three officers came up at this moment, and Mclnespie was sent for some water. This he got and was handing it to Fr. Doyle when a shell burst in the midst of the group, killing Fr. Doyle and the three officers instantaneously, and hurling Mclnespie violently to the ground. Later in the day some of the Dublins when retiring came across the bodies of all four. Recognising Fr. Doyle, they placed him and a Private Meehan, whom they were carrying back dead, behind a portion of the Frezenberg Redoubt and covered the bodies with sods and stones.

Stretcher bearers, Passchendaele [Wikipedia]

Christmas Midnight Mass 1916

O'Rahilly gives an account of the last Christmas Midnight Mass that Fr Doyle would celebrate, an account that shows the Irish Jesuit carrying out two of the responsibilities that Pope Francis spoke about in his homily above to those he was about to ordain: especially to celebrate the Lord’s Sacrifice and Through the Sacrament of Penance . . . to never tire of being merciful. 

Christmas itself Fr. Doyle had the good luck of spending in billets. He got permission from General Hickie to have Midnight Mass for his men in the Convent. The chapel was a fine large one, as in pre-war times over three hundred boarders and orphans were resident in the Convent; and by opening folding-doors the refectory was added to the chapel and thus doubled the available room. An hour before Mass every inch of space was filled, even inside the altar rails and in the corridor, while numbers had to remain in the open. Word had in fact gone round about the Mass, and men from other battalions came to hear it, some having walked several miles from another village. 

Before the Mass there was strenuous Confession-work. “We were kept hard at work hearing confessions all the evening till nine o’clock” writes Fr. Doyle, “the sort of Confessions you would like, the real serious business, no nonsense and no trimmings. As I was leaving the village church, a big soldier stopped me to know, like our Gardiner Street [editor's note: where the Jesuit church in Dublin is located] friend, ‘if the Fathers would be sittin’ any more that night.’  He was soon polished off, poor chap, and then insisted on escorting me home. He was one of my old boys, and having had a couple of glasses of beer — ‘It wouldn’t scratch the back of your throat, Father, that French stuff’ — was in the mood to be complimentary. ‘We miss you sorely, Father, in the battalion’, he said, ‘we do be always talking about you’. Then in a tone of great confidence: ‘Look, Father, there isn’t a man who wouldn’t give the whole of the world, if he had it, for your little toe! That’s the truth’. The poor fellow meant well, but ‘the stuff that would not scratch his throat’ certainly helped his imagination and eloquence. 

I reached the Convent a bit tired, intending to have a rest before Mass, but found a string of the boys awaiting my arrival, determined that they at least would not be left out in the cold. I was kept hard at it hearing Confessions till the stroke of twelve and seldom had a more fruitful or consoling couple of hours’ work, the love of the little Babe of Bethlehem softening hearts which all the terrors of war had failed to touch.”

The Mass itself was a great success and brought consolation and spiritual peace to many a war-weary exile. This is what Fr. Doyle says:

“I sang the Mass, the girls’ choir doing the needful. One of the Tommies [editor's note: 'Tommy' was the generic nickname for the ordinary British soldier], from Dolphin’s Barn, sang the Adeste beautifully with just a touch of the sweet Dublin accent to remind us of home, sweet home, the whole congregation joining in the chorus. It was a curious contrast: the chapel packed with men and officers, almost strangely quiet and reverent (the nuns were particularly struck by this), praying .and singing most devoutly, while the big tears ran down many a rough cheek: outside the cannon boomed and the machine-guns spat out a hail of lead: peace and good will — hatred and bloodshed!

“It was a Midnight Mass none of us will ever forget. A good 500 men came to Holy Communion, so that I was more than rewarded for my work.”

Royal Irish Rifles in trench at the Somme, France, July 1916 [Wikipedia]

Six days before he was killed Fr Doyle wrote to his father about an incident in which he carried out another priestly responsibility mentioned by Pope Francis in his homily: With Chrism oil you will comfort the sick.

A sad morning as casualties were heavy and many men came in dreadfully wounded. One man was the bravest I ever met. He was in dreadful agony, for both legs had been blown off at the knee But never a complaint fell from his lips, even while they dressed his wounds, and he tried to make light of his injuries. Thank God, Father, he said, I am able to stick it out to the end. Is it not all for little Belgium? The Extreme Unction, as I have noticed time and again, eased his bodily pain. I am much better now and easier, God bless you, he said, as I left him to attend a dying man. He opened his eyes as I knelt beside him: Ah! Fr. Doyle, Fr. Doyle, he whispered faintly, and then motioned me to bend lower as if he had some message to give. As I did so, he put his two arms round my neck and kissed me. It was all the poor fellow could do to show his gratitude that he had not been left to die alone and that he would have the consolation of receiving the Last Sacraments before he went to God. Sitting a little way off I saw a hideous bleeding object, a man with his face smashed by a shell, with one if not both eyes torn out. He raised his head as I spoke. Is that the priest? Thank God, I am all right now. I took his blood-covered hands in mine as I searched his face for some whole spot on which to anoint him. I think I know better now why Pilate said Behold the Man when he showed our Lord to the people.

In the afternoon, while going my rounds, I was forced to take shelter in the dug-out of a young officer belonging to another regiment. For nearly two hours I was a prisoner and found out he was a Catholic from Dublin, and had been married just a month. Was this a chance visit, or did God send me there to prepare him for death, for I had not long left the spot when a shell burst and killed him? I carried his body out the next day and buried him in a shell hole, and once again I blessed that protecting Hand which had shielded me from his fate.

The trench warfare of World War I was a form of hell, where evil was present. But Jesus Christ the Risen Lord was present there too - and recognised by so many soldiers, particularly at the moment of death, through the presence of priests such as Fr Willie Doyle SJ, whose inspiring life I first learned about in kindergarten in the late 1940s. In celebrating Mass, in hearing confessions, in anointing dying soldiers, in burying those who had died in battle, priests were bringing hope and light, the hope and light that is Jesus himself, into the midst of an awful darkness. And in some cases these priests were called to be configured literally to the dying Christ so that they could say: the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.

Today please pray for all priests, without whom we could not have the Bread of Life.

'I am the bread of life.' Sunday Reflections, 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

From The Gospel of John (2003)  Directed by Philip Saville. Jesus played by Henry Ian Cusick; narrator, Christopher Plummer.

Readings (New American Bible: Philippines, USA)

Readings (Jerusalem Bible: Australia, England & Wales, India [optional], Ireland, New Zealand, Pakistan, Scotland, South Africa)

Gospel John 6:41-51 (New Revised Standard Version, Catholic Edition, Canada)

Then the Jews began to complain about Jesus because he said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” They were saying, “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven’?” Jesus answered them, “Do not complain among yourselves. No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. It is written in the prophets, ‘And they shall all be taught by God.’ Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me. Not that anyone has seen the Father except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. Very truly, I tell you, whoever believes has eternal life. I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.”

The Prophet Elijah in the Desert 

Dieric Bouts the Elder, 1464-68. 

Sint-Pieterskerk, Leuven, Belgium [Web Gallery of Art]

'Get up and eat, otherwise the journey will be too much for you' (1 Kings 19:7 - from First Reading).

Sto Niño Church, Lianga, Surigao del Sur [Photo: Benjie Otagan]

More than twenty years ago when I was parish priest in Lianga in the Diocese of Tandag, which covers the province of Surigao del Sur on the east coast of Mindanao, one of our voluteer catechists came to me on a Saturday afternoon and told me that her father, who was gravely ill, had asked to receive 'the Bread of Life'. I discovered that Mario, as I'll call him, had been married three times, having been widowed twice. 

When I arrived at the house there were children from his three marriages there, many of them with their own children. There was a palpable sense of joy  in the home and Mario was fully alert. After hearing his confession I invited his family to join us as we celebrated the Sacrament of the Sick before giving him Holy Communion. 

After a period of silence and the closing prayers of the rite I asked those closest to their father/grandfather to place their hands on him. My idea was that we would have some spontaneous prayer. However, Mario changed this into something far more beautiful. He took one of his grandchildren, only a few months old, into his arms, embraced and kissed the child. Then he embraced each of his children and grandchildren and kissed them. Almost everyone, particularly Mario himself, was aware that he had not long to live. He was making a joyful farewell to his family, full of hope because he had received God's forgiveness in the Sacrament of Reconciliation followed by the nourishment of God himself in the Bread of Life.

In the First Reading an angel wakes up the weary prophet Elijah twice with the command 'Get up and eat'. On this occasion Mario's family in effect said the same to me, even though I wasn't weary like Elijah, as they had prepared a snack for me, which is not usual when the priest makes a sick call. However, on this occasion I thought it 'truly right and just' as the joy of the Lord was clearly evident in Mario and his family. He knew that 'the journey' would not 'be too much for' him.

The bread that I will give, says the Lord, is my flesh for the life of the world (Cf John 6:51, Communon Antiphon).

Ego sum panis vivus by Palestrina
Sung by Amici Cantores

Ego sum panis vivus. Patres vestri manducaverunt manna in deserto, et mortui sunt. Hic est panis de coelo descendens: si quis ex ipso manducaverit, non morietur. 

I am the bread of life. Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die (John 6:48-50 - from today's Gospel).

Responsorial Psalm (Philippines, USA)

The Transfiguration 70 years ago in Hiroshima, 6 August 1945

Transfiguration of Christ, Paolo Veronese, 1555-56

Cathedral of Santa Maria, Montagnana, Italy [Web Gallery of Art]

Gore or glory: an anniversary and a feast

A reflection by Maryknoll Fr William Grimm, publisher of ucanews.com, based in Tokyo. [5 August 2015]

August 6, besides being a feast of the Church, Transfiguration, is a terrible anniversary in human history.

Seventy years ago, at 8:15 on the morning of August 6, 1945, an atomic bomb exploded over Hiroshima, Japan.

Eyewitnesses to nuclear explosions describe them in terms similar to those used in the New Testament description of Jesus’ transfiguration, as a light as bright as the sun. However, in Hiroshima and three days later in Nagasaki, the light was followed by darkness as a cloud of smoke, dust and debris covered the sky.

The Hiroshima bombing was the first-ever use of an atomic weapon, and marked the beginning of decades of terror as various nations have joined the so-called ‘nuclear club’ and others work to develop their own nuclear weapons.

In fact, it is little-known that during World War II, Japan was also working to develop such a weapon at the Nishina Laboratory in Tokyo.

Uranium ore for the project was reportedly shipped by submarine from Europe, but the shipment never arrived and an incendiary raid on Tokyo by American B-29 bombers eventually destroyed the research facility on April 13, 1945. (The Nishina Laboratory continues to conduct nuclear research today in a suburb north of Tokyo.)

Though nuclear weapons have not been used since the two bombings in 1945, every one of us has been contaminated as nuclear tests and accidents have polluted our land, air, food, water and bodies with radioactivity. Radioactive pollution is so pervasive that in order to produce radiation-free medical tools, a fleet of sunken German warships from World War I has been ‘mined’ for their pre-atomic age steel.

We all suffer as incredible amounts of talent and treasure are wasted on weapons of mass destruction instead of being used to build solutions to poverty, ignorance, disease, environmental degradation, fear and hatred.

Yet, violence seems to be a part of our makeup. Whether we are children hitting one another, or nations warring against each other, or criminals attacking rivals or terrorists attacking strangers, humankind can legitimately be described as a violent species. Much of what passes for ‘entertainment’ is a glorification of violence. And, even though we use the verb ‘play’ to describe them, many of our sports and the attitudes of players and spectators are anything but playful.

Glorified children of God or demonic murderers — which are we? Are we both? The title ‘Killer Angels’ captures our plight.

Might the light of the transfiguration of Jesus before Peter, James and John offer us something to answer the brightness that ends in darkness for our violence-clouded world?

We must not forget that the one who was glorified on the mountain was the man Jesus. If it could happen to him, it could happen to us. Since God has created us for glory, living as glory-bound daughters and sons of God should be easy for us. It is what we are made for.

Yet, one of the mystifying things about us is that we devote so much energy to being what we are not.

Turning away from our brothers and sisters, turning away from God and turning away from our true selves presumably require extra effort. Yet, we (or to be more specific, I) continue to live the difficult way, the way of self-centredness, the way of selfishness, the way of competition, the way of violence.

The atomic bomb shows what we can be. The transfiguration of Jesus and this feast show us how we should be. If we could accept our destiny and live true to it, what a difference it would make for us and the world!

So, what would living toward glory look like? The life of Jesus, the transfigured one, shows us. Such a life would be at the disposal of others, the life of a servant. It would be a life in which violence toward others, including the quiet violence of using others for our own ends, would be unthinkable. It would be a life of confidence that God's love is stronger than anything we might fear, even death.

Can we live such a life? One man has, and his living it has opened the way to glory for us all.

August 6 shines a bright light on our possibilities both as a human race and as individuals. As individuals, nations and a world, we must choose the path of glory lest we go down the path of destruction.

Transfiguration of Christ, Unknown Cretan icon painter, c.1550

Ikonen-Museum, Recklinghausen, Germany [Web Gallery of Art]

Mark 9:2-10

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.

As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. So they kept the matter to themselves, questioning what this rising from the dead could mean.