A few weeks ago it was my very special privilege to visit the beautiful city of Hiroshima in Japan and view some of its ancient shrines and monuments. Like many millions before me I was also drawn to the amazing Peace Plaza commemorating one of the most grievous acts of brutal inhumanity ever perpetrated upon this earth.
At 8.15 am on August 6th 1945 an atomic bomb was detonated 600 metres above the town hall heating the area to over one million degrees Celsius and flattening virtually every building within a 2 kilometre radius. Men, women and children were incinerated in seconds, crushed by masonry or had the flesh literally melt off their bones as they struggled to escape. In a very short period of time over 140,000 lost their lives. For months and even years after the incident many more died from the effects of radiation poisoning.
Citizens in and around Hiroshima lost colleagues, relatives and friends. Many found only the remnants of clothing or no trace at all of loved ones and were unable to find the closure brought though disposal of remains.
Hiroshima and Nagasaki are names that loom starkly in our global conscience alongside Auschwitz and Buchenwald as examples of appalling inhumanity and senseless violence. Yet even from these godless horrors beauty arises.
As I slowly paced the beautiful and simple Peace Plaza in the shadow of the still-standing burned-out carcass of the town hall and watched the Eternal Flame flickering above the cherry-blossom dappled waters of the memorial pool, I felt a deep emotion of peace and an awareness of the towering compassion of our God for this broken struggling world. And I read in many languages these words: Let all souls here rest in peace for we shall not repeat this evil.
Before entering the Hiroshima Memorial Peace Museum I paused to view the Bell of Peace, dedicated on September 20th 1964. I tolled it once and listened to the echoes throb outwards for the best part of a minute. I feel there is little I can do on this world’s great stage to make amends for the millions who die through war, torture and terrorism. What can one person do to make a difference and how could the sound of one bell, large though it is, do anything to change anything?
As I listened to the long heart-pulse of that bell on April 5th 2014, I confess I didn’t pray for world peace or even for peace in my community. I simply asked God to do all He could to change myselfish heart, to make me a man of peace, a purveyor of kindness, to perhaps touch those around me for the good. For peace begins when one decides to behave differently. Blessed are the peacemakers said Jesus for they shall be called sons and daughters of God.
No comments:
Post a Comment