An infinitely patient Japanese airhostess was trying to say something to me, but even when she had repeated it a few times I could not fathom what she was saying. Then her patience gave out and she suddenly signalled to me that I should follow her. When we reached the opposite side of the plane she pointed through the window … and I saw Mount Fuji. We were flying past it and if I had delayed any longer I would not have seen it. And it was magnificent. This nearly perfectly shaped mountain rose up through the clouds, its summit covered with snow, radiant in the sunshine against the perfect blue sky in the background. And I had nearly missed seeing it.
If young Jesuits indulge in romantic daydreaming it may well be of following in the footsteps of St. Francis Xavier across much of Asia and landing in Japan, the first Christian to reach it. That morning I was flying from Tokyo to Nagasaki to be where Xavier began, and which was to become the first Christian centre in Japan. A friend who had been at school with me and joined the Jesuits with me was stationed there and was my guide during the next week. This was the stuff that dreams are made of, and yet, it is Mount Fuji which comes back to me when I think of Japan.
Considering that clouds and poor visibility often block the view of Mount Fuji, I consider myself lucky to have had a clear view of the mountain. But in that moment I had a vision of the grandeur of God reflected in the glory of his creation, and felt a little like Moses who encountered God in a burning bush. That glory is always there like the wonder of Mount Fuji, but there are times when we become aware of it and feel ourselves blessed in that moment. St. Ignatius taught us to work for the greater glory of God, not that God’s glory can be increased, but it can be increased for us when we become conscious of it and we are surprised with joy.
The Jesuit Poet Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote that the world is charged with the grandeur of God and he believes that it will ‘flame out’; a poetic way of saying it will take us by surprise. The psalms predict that when God appears at the end of the world that all nations will fall prostrate before him when they realise his glory. And when people told St. Ignatius that they found it hard to pray he advised that they think as they start that they are in the presence of God when they pray and he smiles on them.
John Looby, S.J.