A Song for Nagasaki: The Story of Takashi Nagai: Scientist, Convert, and Survivor of the Atomic Bomb

by Paul Glynn

“Your father thought he was doing his duty as a government official. He really believed the Christian faith was subversive and a danger to Japan.

It is another example of the great truth that you understand better than I, Brother—God is always in charge; difficulties, darkness and suffering become opportunities for new graces if we keep trusting.”

“There is enough light for those who desire only to see, and enough darkness for those of a contrary disposition.”

How could he promise to be a half man, a half Japanese? The priest placed salt on Nagai’s tongue. Nagai prayed to be free of the old concupiscences, and peace gradually came. The Latin ceased to sound alien. Rather, it was the harmonious mother tongue of a worldwide family made up of every culture and race.

“Where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge; your people shall be my people, and your God my God; where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord do so to me and more also if even death parts me from you.”

“Donna koto de mo, doko made mo, go issho sasete itadakito gozaimasu. It will be my privilege to share in his journey, wherever it leads and whatever happens on the way.”

Wa, a vital word in Japanese, is rather like the biblical “shalom”. The Kenkyusha Dictionary defines wa as “peace, harmony, reconciliation, unity of comfort”.

They would stop and solemnly bow, calling out: “Sensei, konnichi wa. Good afternoon, Teacher.”

“Look at the rice carefully, and discover behind it the countless generations of farmers who pioneered wild land and nurtured rice paddies through droughts and floods, poverty, war and pestilence. See generations of artisans too in the simple, practical beauty of the bowl and chopsticks and in all the merchants who handled them. See your parents too, who worked hard to be able to buy and cook the rice.”

Nagai’s mother would conclude her lesson by joining her hands and bowing in a gesture of profound gratitude, reciting a prayer that explained all this, and the universe as well: “Namu Amida Butsu. We depend on you utterly, Amida Buddha.”

For instance, the two ideographs that form arigato, “thank you”, literally mean “this came into existence with difficulty”. Behind everything we receive, use or possess, the bonze went on, lie difficulties overcome by great effort. Shigoto, ”work”, is made of two ideographs meaning “something that is a service”. All are the beneficiaries of countless other “workers”, and we owe it to the community to do our own job well, not primarily for material recompense but out of gratitude. This was the boy’s introduction to Japan’s famous work ethic. Nagai the Christian recalled his mother’s gentle homespun spirituality with gratitude.

“Professor, I see you believe in prayer.” Ampere replied: “Everyone has to pray.” The reply struck Nagai with force. It reminded him that he had found God through prayer but was doing precious little to help others do the same.

Assistance is authentic, he jotted down in his journal, when it helps restore a person’s dignity.

“Child of God, acknowledging all the sins of your life, ask forgiveness because they were in opposition to a God who is all love. . . Turn to Christ, who suffered and died for our sins. . . Accept your sickness with gratitude because you can offer it with Christ’s sacrifice on the Cross. . . Let us pray to the Father that you may be restored to health. . . . .”

life is as transient “as the dew of Adashino, and the smoke above Toribeyama”, places for cremating the dead of Old Kyoto, littered with crumbling tombstones centuries old.

As he waited there, his head leaning on Midori’s breast, he thought: This is how a soul must feel when led out of Purgatory.