Statue of St. Agnes at the United Nations, New York
(Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year B; This homily was given on July 22, 2018 at Santo Spirito in Sassia, Rome and at the University of Dallas, Rome Campus; See Jeremiah 23:1-6, Psalm 23, Ephesians 2:13-18 and Mark 6: 30-34)
One of the most beloved saints of the Church, particularly here in Italy, is the 3rd century virgin and martyr, St. Agnes. There are several interesting stories that surround her life and martyrdom. Agnes was a very beautiful young woman, and many men desired her hand in marriage. When she refused, declaring that Christ was the only Spouse for her, they resented it. Turning her over to the Roman authorities, she was condemned for the crime of being a Christian. One legend notes how she was first sentenced to be dragged naked through the streets, but was spared by a miraculous intervention. Another story relates how she was to be burned at the stake, but every time they put the flame to the wood it failed to light! Most accounts tell how she ultimately died by the sword, much like St. James, St. Paul and numerous early Christian martyrs.
The most remarkable story about St. Agnes, however, is that she once survived the detonation of an atomic bomb. Now, I know that sounds quite impossible. She lived in the late 3rd Century, long before such things were even conceivable. But I am referring not to the saint herself, but to her statue.
In the Roman Catholic Cathedral in Nagasaki, there was a statue of St. Agnes that stood less than a kilometre away from the place where the atomic bomb landed on August 9, 1945. It is estimated that some 60,000 persons died as a result of that horrific event, including a large crowd worshiping in the cathedral that day. The impact of the blast drove the statue of St. Agnes into the ground and it was subsequently covered over with stone, steel and dirt. It was later recovered and it stands today, not in the rebuilt Cathedral in Nagasaki, but in the world headquarters for the United Nations in New York City.
The statue of St. Agnes is displayed at the UN to remind the world of the centrality of striving for peace and the devastating results that can happen when we fail in that essential task. But it is also a poignant reminder for the Church, that we are not only to pray for peace, but to persevere untiringly in the task of working for it on every conceivable level. Our statue of the beloved St. Agnes belongs in the middle of the political struggle for world peace. The Church has every right and even a responsibility to be fully involved in the political struggle for peace on earth. For that very reason, four modern Popes have visited the United Nations in New York City.
Pope Paul VI (soon to be canonised here in Rome this October), was the first to address the UN General Assembly in 1965. Pope St. John Paul II addressed the UN twice, in 1979 and in 1995. Pope Benedict XVI went there in 2008, and Pope Francis addressed the UN General Assembly just over two years ago, in September 2015.
Pope Francis, like all of his predecessors, spoke passionately about the need to strive for peace in our world. He likewise emphasised the “urgent need to work for a world free of nuclear weapons.” The world we live in must never again witness another Nagasaki or Hiroshima. Just two years after the visit of Pope Francis, to the day, Archbishop Paul Gallagher, the Vatican’s Secretary for Relation with States, addressed the UN and also signed the Treaty on the Prohibition of Nuclear Weapons there.
This past November, Pope Francis gave the strongest statement to date on nuclear weapons, declaring, “If we also take into account the risk of an accidental detonation as a result of error of any kind, the threat of their use, as well as their very possession, is to be firmly condemned.” Pope Francis, however, went on to quote the 1963 encyclical from Pope St. John XXIII, Pacem in Terris (Peace on Earth), which gets directly to the heart of the matter:
“Unless this process of disarmament be thoroughgoing and complete, and reach men’s very souls, it is impossible to stop the arms race, or to reduce armaments, or – and this is the main thing – ultimately to abolish them entirely”
—Pope St. John XXIII,
Pacem in Terris, # 113
What Pope Francis and Pope St. John XXIII are expressing is the Church’s vision for peace, which is not merely the absence of war (see Catechism of the Catholic Church, #2304). St. Augustine, in his City of God, defined peace as “the tranquillity of order.” But it is not tranquillity of an external order only, as much as a tranquillity that is rooted within the souls of persons.
All of our readings for this weekend reflect that longing and yearning for the internal tranquillity that alone can bring harmony to our troubled world. In the first reading from the Prophet Jeremiah we see the dysfunction of a scattered people driven into exile. Their hearts are deprived of peace. To them, God promises a Messiah, “a righteous shoot to David” (Jeremiah 23:5), who will not leave them troubled and harassed but will govern and guide them with wisdom, justice and love. Our responsorial psalm this morning resounds with the “tranquillity of order” that the Good Shepherd comes to bring:
The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
In verdant pastures he gives me repose;
beside restful waters he leads me;
he refreshes my soul.
—Psalm 23:1-3
In the Gospel for this weekend, the Apostles recount to Jesus their intense ministerial activity and He immediately calls them away to rest awhile. Before they arrive at their place of retreat, however, they are met by a veritable crush of people following His every move. They were pining for His healing presence. Far from being irritated or put off by the crowd, St. Mark says, “his heart was moved with pity for them, for thy were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things” (Mark 6:34). They longed for peace in the depths of their souls, and the Prince of Peace gave it to them.
St. Paul, in our second reading this morning, describes the age-old conflict that was evidenced throughout Sacred Scripture: the division between God’s chosen people, the Jews, and all non-Jews or “gentiles.” St. Paul affirms that Jesus Christ has come to reconcile this divide with His own sacrifice on the cross. The Apostle goes well beyond the claim that Christ gives us His peace, and insists, instead, that Christ is Himself the embodiment of the tranquillity we long for:
For he is our peace, he who made both one and broke down the dividing wall of enmity, through his flesh, abolishing the law with its commandments and legal claims, that he might create in himself one new person in place of the two, thus establishing peace, and might reconcile both with God, in one body, through the cross, putting that enmity to death by it.
—Ephesians 2:14-16
Christ died to give us peace, that tranquillity of order that our world needs so much. But are we looking for that peace, finding it in the places where God gives it in abundance? Because He gives us that peace especially here, in the sacraments of the Church, in the teachings of Sacred Scripture, and in the gathering of His faithful. How very many people today live like sheep without a shepherd, and all the while Christ longs to gather them together and feed them with Himself.
In conclusion, I would like to share a story about perhaps the youngest survivor of the atomic bomb at Nagasaki, not a statue but a little boy. I say he was one of the youngest because he was not even born yet; he was still a little baby in the womb of his mother. Fortunately, she was further away from the blast that devastated the city. Several months later she gave birth to a healthy baby boy whom she named Joseph. He was a devout and prayerful young man, and it was no big surprise when he eventually felt God calling him to the priesthood. He went through seminary studies and in 1972 was ordained a Catholic priest. After many years of faithful service, Fr. Joseph Mitsuaki Takami was ordained a bishop, and in 2003 Pope St. John Paul II appointed him Archbishop of Nagasaki.
It is remarkable to consider that, in the devastation and literal annihilation of nuclear warfare, God was immediately preparing a shepherd to bring healing and help for those who would survive. He can provide peace for us even in the midst of darkness and difficulties, but He also desires that we extend that peace and establish it in the relationships and activities of everyday life. The broken world we live in longs for God’s peace, for that “tranquillity of order.” Will we make ourselves available to receive it and then make it known by the way we live?
God, give us the grace to receive this peace that Christ died for and offers in abundance, especially in the sacraments and teachings of our faith, and give us the courage to spread that peace everywhere in the world we live in.
