August 6
Each year I find myself struck by the dichotomy that is called to mind on August 6th.
On the calendar of Catholic celebrations, August 6 is the feast of the Transfiguration: the day when we reflect on the Gospel account in which Jesus takes Peter, James, and John to the top of a mountain (Mount Tabor?). There he is transfigured before their eyes. The three disciples see Jesus in a blaze of glory and for a brief moment in time they catch a glimpse of his divinity. An awesome blaze of light...a glimpse of the divine…a memory to sustain them in the troubled times that lie ahead.
And then there’s August 6, 1945. Here, again, we have another blaze of light, but this one doesn’t carry any glimpse of divinity. Rather, it will forever be linked with terror and destruction. A stunning event that hastened the end of a terrible war, but that ushered in another era of violence and destruction. The scene is repeated again a mere three days later.
I’ve read that Dorothy Day called this event “the anti-transfiguration”. It’s a brutal reminder of the depths to which the human person can sink. And it makes the end of the Gospel account all the more compelling and challenging.
The disciples wanted to stay at the top of the mountain; they wanted to stay with the experience of goodness and glory. Jesus won’t let them. This brief moment of awe is to serve as a reminder of what can be, of what will be. Hopefully, it will serve to inspire them and carry them through the days that lie ahead. But the call is to come down from the mountain. The challenge is to see the face of God in the midst of the pain (and the joy) of human experience. The mountain-top experience should fuel the passion that drives them (and us!) to be messengers of peace, even in the face of unspeakable violence.
Merciful God, we pray that you open our eyes to the needs of all; inspire us with words and deeds to comfort those who labor and are burdened; keep our service of others faithful to the example and command of Christ. Let your people be a living witness to truth and freedom, to justice and peace, that all people may be lifted up by the hope of a world made new.
-- adapted from the Eucharistic Prayer entitled: Jesus, the Compassion of God.
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