The coincidence that the bombing of Hiroshima took place on the Feast Day of the Transfiguration is rich in symbolism. Both events record a dazzling and awesome light. One revealed Jesus’ divine calling and power on the mountain. The other made the ‘light brighter than a thousand suns’ appear over the city.
Beneath this similarity, however, lies a terrible contrast. The light that shone in Jesus on Mount Tabor revealed the power of God’s love in Jesus’ mission to save the world and to bring life. For Jesus’ followers it also vindicated in advance his renunciation of political power and his acceptance of suffering. The light from the bomb that fell on Hiroshima revealed the power of human beings to kill one another on a massive scale and to destroy the city and the inhabitable world. It also disclosed the human darkness that goes with war and its power to corrupt human judgment.
After the end of the Second World War people lived in fear of a nuclear war that would devastate the world. This was avoided by a mixture of good fortune, a sense of self-preservation and diplomacy. More recently, however, the fear of nuclear war has weakened as many nations hostile to one another possess nuclear weapons or the capacity to make them, and nuclear power is routinely used to produce power.
MADE NORMAL
The use of nuclear power is being made normal. The tactical use of nuclear weapons is discussed openly in considering military strategies. In Australia, following the practice of many nations, nuclear power is offered as a replacement or support for fossil fuels. For many people it is a symbol of confidence in the human ability to develop technology that, without pain, will solve all the problems of society, including those it causes.
Despite its cleaner image, however, nuclear power is still shadowed by its association with Hiroshima and its initial use for mass killing. It is a symbol of the crazed use of power and technology to kill and destroy. It stands in opposition to the renunciation of coercive power and violence embodied in the story of Jesus’ transfiguration.
In his approach to technology Pope Francis stakes a position in the middle ground, which leaves him open to shelling from both sides. He sets the drama of nuclear power and the transfiguration of Jesus within a broader human play in which arrogance is matched against humility, excess against moderation, respect against abuse, and simplicity against greed. In this play, nuclear power is a part of creation, one of many human tools that can be used to destroy or to build, to enhance human living or to degrade it, to protect the environment or to ravage it.
HUMAN REFLECTION
The heart of the play is not the mushroom shaped cloud that hangs over a nuclear explosion, but the human reflection and decisions involved in its conception and use as a weapon. It is not about the goodness or evil of nuclear technology. It is about the struggle in the human heart between good and evil, and the struggle in the human mind about the limits that we should place on its use and that of other potentially destructive technologies.
That approach invites a reasonable conversation about nuclear technology based on its potential for good and for harm. Part of that conversation must consider whether the technology involved in running nuclear plants and the disposal of spent fuel is safe for eons, about relative costs. It must also deal, however, with the visceral opposition of many people to any limitation being placed on technology out of respect for the environment. Such an attitude invites disaster.