Homily for Feast of the Transfiguration Mass for the Victims of Atomic Bombings by Cardinal Blase Cupich, Archbishop of Chicago
This Feast of the Transfiguration was forever changed 80 years ago today. For more than a millennium Christians had gathered on this day, joining Jesus and the three disciples in the ascent to Mt. Tabor to be renewed in that vision when God revealed all that He ever wanted for us. In the vision Jesus is revealed as the Lord of the human story and the first born of our new creation. He is transformed before the eyes of Peter, James, and John. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as light. The heavens opened and a voice declared, “this is my beloved Son, listen to him.”
But on that Monday morning, August 6, 1945, at this very hour, the world was given a different vision of our human story. A different kind of blinding light shone, incinerating this city, shocking all into a devastating silence as an atomic weapon fell from the skies.
On Tabor, light revealed our calling to share eternally in divine glory as sons and daughters of the Father; in Hiroshima, light brought unimaginable destruction, darkness and death and created an unprecedented threat to the survival of the planet and our future. On Tabor, God spoke from the heavens words of love and affirmation; in Hiroshima, the bomb falling from the skies announced human suffering and despair on an unimaginable scale.
Yet, precisely this stark contrast between two visions for humanity makes our celebration of the Transfiguration on the 80th anniversary of the use of an atomic weapon so necessary and compelling. With chilling clarity we are forced on this day to acknowledge the capacity for destruction that lies within our human hearts. Today we are brought face to face with the horrific consequences of unchecked power and hatred and the failure to heed the vision of Tabor, of ignoring the divine voice that calls us to live united as God’s beloved sons and daughters, loving one another as brothers and sisters.
The bomb itself is an ominous marker of the destructive power that arises when the human family is divided. Physicists tell us that the blast occurs when a neutron divides the nucleus of an atom, releasing a tremendous amount of energy and then more neutrons which trigger a rapid, and uncontrolled chain reaction, leading to the explosion. The same is true when we sow division, stoking impulses of anger, resentment, bigotry. These unchecked emotions spiral out of control creating a destructive chain reaction that blinds us to the vision God has always wanted for us.
Nearly six years ago, Pope Francis of happy memory spoke here in Hiroshima of three moral imperatives for pursuing and sustaining God’s vision for humanity and the path to peace: to remember, to journey together, to protect. Today’s Gospel offers insight for understanding what each of these means.
Surely, as the late Holy Father noted, remembering must involve ensuring that the present and future generations never forget what happened here. We honor with gratitude and reverence the example and witness of the Hibakusha, the prophetic voices of those survivors of the atomic bombings who have been agents and instruments of peace for decades. They inspire us to keep alive their stories and memories. But the Gospel calls us to another kind of remembering. There we see Jesus conversing with Moses and Elijah. The remembering must also connect us with the metanarrative, the overarching plan God has for us. This deep remembering keeps us focused on what is at stake. In this and every age, we are called to participate in God’s unfolding plan of salvation, always tethered to the very origins of creation and yet moving forward through the ages to come towards that final day when the court is convened, the books are opened and the Son of Man comes to receive dominion, glory, and kingship, uniting all peoples, nations, and languages. Such remembering put us on the path to peace with each other and God’s creation, giving us the capacity of “awakening the consciences of all men and women, especially those who today play a crucial role in the destiny of the nations; a living memory that helps us say in every generation: never again!” (Address of Pope Francis at the Peace Memorial in Hiroshima, Sunday, 24 November 2019).
When Jesus speaks of journeying together, the second imperative for sustaining the vision of God and pursuing the path of peace, he describes it as an exodus. This now is a journey of liberation, where all are given the capacity to flourish. We flourish when our stories are shared, respected, and celebrated. We flourish when we help one another to become instruments of reconciliation and peace, as Pope Francis observed. We all flourish when we take responsibility to care for our common home. Putting aside selfish pursuits, nationalism, clashing rivalries and divided loyalties, which can ignite a destructive chain reaction, we instead take each step together making sure no one is left behind or overlooked when places at the table of life are set. Our experience in becoming a synodal church can contribute much to society, as we bring forth the values we learn in dialoguing, listening and engaging the other respectfully. This exodus journey puts us on the path of peace but also on the path of liberation as we each make progress in becoming all that God has ever wanted us to be.
Protection is the final imperative. Surely it evokes a sense of taking responsibility for one another’s security and safety. Today a world war fought piecemeal, as Francis often remarked, threatens us all, for wherever security is lacking in one place we all are insecure. Peacebuilding must always involve a commitment to protect one another. But notice how the disciples try to secure their wellbeing and comfort by building tents, as Peter suggests. It is not enough. Rather, as they huddle together in their moment of fear they are wrapped in the protective cloud of God’s presence, which remains with them even after the vision, with Jesus standing alone in their midst. This divine protecting presence is the source of our hope, a hope that empowers us to sustain the vision of God and pursue the path to peace. This hope is not mere optimism. Optimism is about tomorrow, but hope is about today, trusting that even if dark clouds of confusion surround us and all else seemingly fails, Jesus remains standing alone in our midst.
On this day, 80 years ago, the world witnessed the alarming misuse of human ingenuity that brought about inconceivable destruction. So this morning, we are called to sustain and make our own the vision God has always had for us. We do that by remembering our stories and praying for all those who perished and suffered on that tragic day. We do that by taking up the journey together, and by tapping into the deep resources of human ingenuity, this time to protect one another by creating new paths towards a lasting peace.
This Feast of the Transfiguration was forever changed 80 years ago today. May we remain steadfast in telling the world why.