Today we remembered the many thousands of lives that were destroyed by the detonation of the atomic bomb over Hiroshima some sixty-one years ago–many were vaporized in an instant, others spent years dying slowly and painfully. The Irvine United Congregational Church, which I am considering more and more to be one of my several home churches, hung up a thousand paper cranes (as a prayer for peace, and in memory of one of the young victims–if you don’t know Sadako’s story, you should leave this post now and learn more about her), showed a documentary about the war, and invited Japanese-American concentration camp survivors tell about their experiences. My daughter and I folded cranes as Reverend Paul Tellstrom shared the story with the congregation.
Before I go any further, I just have to say, if anyone tells you that we dropped the bombs to save the lives of American soldiers, you’re not getting the full story. President Truman knew at the end of July 1945 that the Japanese wanted to negotiate a surrender. He also knew that the Soviets were going to enter the war on August 15th. There was a serious blockade option on the table. The decision to drop the bomb was an enormously complex one, and minimizing American casualties was one consideration among several. It can be argued that Truman dropped the bomb not to save American lives, but to end the Pacific war before the Russians entered it–avoiding an Eastern version of the partitioning of Germany and Berlin.
Okay, back to the today’s experience: there’s a lot to talk about, but I’ll just focus on two. The fifth hymn in UCC’s New Century hymnal has one Japanese verse, and is sung to one of my favorite traditional Japanese melodies (about the cherry blossoms). The sakura are symbolic of the fleeting, ephemeral beauty of human life, and the transient nature of this world. It was wonderful to sing a Christian hymn to such a haunting Japanese tune. Right before singing the song, we placed the little cranes we had folded into the offering plate. The tiny pink birds stood watch over the gifts of the people. It seemed entirely appropriate.
As Reverend Tellstrom prepared the communion, he poured out a bowl full of a thousand tiny little paper cranes (each smaller than a dime) onto the altar. When I went up to partake of the bread and wine, I also reached out and picked up one of the little cranes. The tsuru represents everything good about life, and the Sadako story has transformed each folded crane into a prayer for peace. When I looked up, I could see the lines of cranes that decorated the hall converging over the altar and then up into the light.
After the service, I asked Pastor Paul if the libation of cranes on the altar was something he had planned. He replied that it was spontaneous. If you ask me, it was inspired.
