Why this reading?

Note: apparently I did not post my homily for the 2nd Sunday of Lent. Here it is…


Did you ever wonder why the Church the story of the Transfiguration is always the reading for the 2nd Sunday of Lent? I mean, the Feast of the Transfiguration already has its own day – August 6th every year. It is not a paucity of readings or a lack of imagination. It is a well chosen reading that deepens meaning and understanding of the Lenten journey. Let me give you five reasons.

First, Lent is a journey toward the cross not away from it. The first Sunday of Lent was a story of Jesus in the wilderness, tempted by the devil. But the direction of the story is not clear at least as far as Lent is concerned. By the Second Sunday of Lent, the Church wants us to be very clear about where this road leads. The Transfiguration occurs after Jesus has spoken about his suffering, rejection, and death. The disciples have just heard words they do not want to hear. Confusion and fear have entered the picture. Into that void comes speculation, rumor, and conversations among the disciples of what Jesus meant – all fueling the uncertainty. If that was all we proclaimed in the gospel then Lent becomes a grim endurance until we can finally get to the Resurrection.

The Transfiguration does not cancel the Cross. It reveals who Jesus is as he goes toward it. It is about learning to walk with Christ through suffering, trusting that God’s presence and glory is not absent from it.

We are not unlike the disciples. We have uncertainties, things that keep us up at night, and events that are unfolding in ways not our liking. We are left apprehensive, perhaps even fearful – but do we feel the presence of Christ in and around us during all this or are we just grimly enduring?

The second reason: God strengthens us before the hard part. For Jesus the hard part is that He is heading to Jerusalem, there to be betrayed, scourged, and crucified – and He has told his disciples all that is coming. But Jesus does not wait until after the Resurrection to show them his glory. He gives Peter, James, and John a glimpse before the events unfold. Why? You know why. We want assurance things will turn out well. Jesus knows the disciples are having a difficult time taking this all in and discipleship is about to overwhelm them. They need the strengthening the experience of the Transfiguration will give them.

And so, the Transfiguration functions as consolation given in advance. It is a memory meant to sustain faith when everything later seems to contradict it. Lent works the same way. Prayer, fasting, and almsgiving are not ends in themselves. They train the heart to trust God when stress increases, things slip out of control, and when obedience becomes costly. The Church places this Gospel here to remind us that God never asks us to walk into darkness without first giving us light.

Lent is a journey towards the cross and God strengthens us before the hard part. Third, “Listen to Him” is a Lenten command. At the center of the Transfiguration is not the light, but the voice: “This is my beloved Son… listen to him.” Lent is fundamentally about learning to listen again – stripping away distractions, quieting false voices, and letting Christ’s word reorient our lives. Notice that Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets, testify to Jesus, point to him and then fade away.  What remains is Jesus alone. This is not accidental. Lent is a season of re-centering, where all religious practices are meant to lead us back to one thing: attentive listening, reflection and obedience to Christ.

Lent is a journey towards the cross and God strengthens us before the hard part, “Listen to Him” is a Lenten command and fourth: Glory is revealed through obedience. “Obedience” from the Latin, obe dire, to listen through. The Transfiguration shows Jesus radiant but not because he avoids suffering. His glory flows from his total alignment with the Father’s will. That matters for Lent, because it reframes holiness. Glory does not come from success or visibility – it comes from faithful obedience, even when misunderstood. Just as Peter misunderstands. But he hangs in there and eventually figures it out.

The Church offers this Gospel early in Lent to prevent a distortion: Lent is not self-improvement.
It is a gift of memory and hope that we can be assured even if we don’t yet understand, Jesus is present and we’ll eventually figure it out.

Fifth and finally, Hope is essential to conversion. The Church knows something about being human: no one perseveres without hope. The Transfiguration is hope made visible. It tells us repentance and change is worth it, obedience is not meaningless in a world amiss, and suffering does not have the final word. It didn’t for Jesus or the Apostles nor with us. Hope reminds us that suffering does not have the final word. Lent with the Transfiguration leads us to trustful surrender.

  • Lent is a journey toward the cross not away from it
  • God strengthens us before the hard part
  • Listen to Him” is a Lenten command
  • Glory is revealed through obedience
  • Hope is essential to conversion

Lent begins in the desert. But this Sunday, the Church teaches us how to walk the Lenten road:

  • with eyes fixed on Christ,
  • with hearts strengthened by hope,
  • with ears open to the Father’s voice,
  • and with courage to follow Jesus through the Cross, trusting that glory lies on the other side.

Amen


Image credit: Photo by Free Nature Stock on Pexels.com

October 1941

October in Tokyo

Throughout October, most Japanese military leaders at cabinet level, at one point or another, left ample evidence of their doubt of success – but these doubts were not expressed at council meetings. In an October joint staff conference, Admiral Fukudome noted that if a war with the U.S. extended into a third year, at-sea losses and limited shipbuilding capacity meant that Japan’s merchant shipping capacity would be nil. At the same conference Admiral Ngano, Chief of Navy staff, reported that Fleet Commander Admiral Yamamoto, the architect of the Pearl Harbor attack, had informed hom that there was little chance war with the U.S. could be successful and should not be fought.

The Total War Research Institute Report was formally presented to senior officials, including members of the cabinet and military leadership. Its reception revealed the core dysfunction of Japanese decision-making in 1941. Leadership regarded the report as accurate and there was no serious challenge to the analysis and yet it did not seem to change the direction or momentum of Japan’s movement to widen the Asia-Pacific War. Military leaders argued that Japan had no alternative, given the oil embargo, because together with political leaders, they feared that abandoning already approved Imperial Conference objectives would cause domestic collapse or military revolt.

Ironically, the Institute report did not prevent war; it only clarified its risks. Its work reinforced the mindset that Japan was facing a closing window: if war was inevitable, it must be fought sooner rather than later, before oil reserves ran out. While the Institute stood as one of the clearest voices warning against war and was evidence that Japan went to war knowing it was likely to lose, but believing the political and strategic costs of restraint were even greater.

When all this was discussed at an October 4th liaison conference, Army Minister Hideki Tojo offered several revealing comments: the Institute report does not account for unpredictability, nor the fighting spirit of the Japanese army, and it dishonors the 200,000 IJA lives already lost in the struggle. While the report noted that war against the U.S. would be strategically irrational unless Japan fundamentally altered its political objectives it did not account for the impact of honor in the mindset of Japanese leaders.

In 1932, Lt. Joseph Rochefort, USN, was studying Japanese while living in Tokyo. Rochefort was later the officer-in-charge of Station HYPO, the Pacific Fleet communications intelligence unit that “broke the code” leading to the June 1942 success at the Battle of Midway. At a social gathering in 1932, Rochefort struck up a conversation with a senior executive of the Mitsui Corporation. Rochefort asked the man about Japan’s involvement in Manchuria and as far as Shanghai, noting that Japan could not possibly defeat the Chinese. The executive responded, “That’s right. But you are forgetting one thing. Our honor has become involved in this, and when honor becomes involved you should forget all the realistics…Caucasians and Americans don’t understand this at all… when honor is involved, we don’t care about anything else.” (Joe Rochefort’s War, p.56).

What the U.S. would see as strategic irrationality, the Japanese saw as a matter of honor.

That placed each cabinet leader “between the rock and the hard place.” There was the Imperial Conference directive from September and the issue of national honor. A good example was Navy Minister Oikawa. Privately he would tell Prime Minister Konoe that if he accepted U.S. demands, the Navy would back him. Navy Chief of Staff Ngano agreed to support Konoe. Yet at the Oct 4th Liaison Conference, Ngano and Oikawa called for setting a timetable. Two days later at a naval leadership conclave, the admirals talked about how to convince the Army to avoid a war with the U.S.  But when given the chance to confront Tōjō and the IJA, the moment passed.

Following this, as Konoe realized the momentum to war was increasing even though the best minds in Japan argued against the possibility of success, he asked Army Minister Tōjō, the minister replied: “Occasionally, one must conjure up enough courage, close one’s eyes and leap off the veranda of the Kiyomizu Temple.” He was alluding to a well-known Japanese proverb and historical image associated with Kiyomizu-dera in Kyoto, whose main hall stands on a high wooden veranda supported by pillars over a steep drop. In Japanese usage it means to take a desperate, all-or-nothing gamble; to act with resolve in the face of fear; and to commit fully when hesitation seems worse than risk

Tōjō was pressing the argument that continued hesitation/endless negotiation was more dangerous than decisive action: Japan must choose war and embrace the risk even if the outcome was uncertain. His use of the metaphor was pointed and framed the choice of war and its uncertainty was the choice of courage, moral superiority and honor. Tōjō’s remark was a classic Japanese proverb, instantly recognizable, emotionally charged, and intentionally used to reframe war as an act of noble resolve rather than strategic necessity. It was rhetoric designed not just to persuade, but to shame hesitation.

To Konoe it implied that further diplomacy was dishonorable, a true leader must be willing to risk catastrophe, and moral resolve mattered more than material calculation. In this sense, the phrase neatly captures the psychological and cultural climate of late 1941 Japan, where symbolic courage increasingly outweighed strategic realism.

Konoe resigned Oct 16th, Tōjō became Prime Minister, who was widely perceived in Washington as a hardliner. In Tokyo, however, Tojo initially continued negotiations—though now within a framework that treated war as an acceptable outcome rather than a catastrophe to be avoided. With the fall of the Konoe cabinet, Prime Minister Tōjō appointed new cabinet members. Realists such as Navy Minister Oikawa were replaced by those more supportive of war.

October in Washington DC

By October 1941, U.S. policy toward Japan was shaped by three hard realities. Japan remained at war in China and showed no intention of full withdrawal. The economic pressures of the embargo had not seemed to modify Japanese behavior or intent. And, U.S. leaders increasingly believed Japan might strike south (or against the U.S.) if diplomacy failed. Despite this, the Roosevelt administration still hoped to avoid immediate war while holding firm to core principles. October diplomacy was therefore about testing whether Japan would make decisive concessions, not about crafting a new grand bargain.

Throughout October, negotiations formally continued between Secretary of State Cordell Hull and Ambassador Nomura – but there was little new as Hull remained firm on his Four Principles. Hull believed that anything less would reward aggression and undermine the international order the U.S. hoped to restore after the war in Europe. While the tone remained diplomatic, Hull, already skeptical of Japan’s honesty and sincerity regarding diplomacy, became increasingly skeptical. He doubted Nomura had authority to negotiate real concessions and so U.S. officials drew the conclusion that Japan was using talks to buy time while preparing for war.

By October 1941, U.S. leaders had access to extensive intelligence from MAGIC intercepts of Japanese diplomatic traffic. These intercepts revealed that Tokyo had set a deadline on negotiations and was pursuing parallel diplomatic and military planning. While MAGIC did not reveal operational attack plans, it confirmed U.S. suspicions that diplomacy was being conducted under severe Japanese internal constraints. This intelligence reinforced Hull’s conviction that the U.S. should not offer interim concessions and any agreement must be substantive and final, not temporary.

In late October, Japan decided to send Kurusu Saburō to Washington as a special envoy. His arrival was viewed cautiously. Some saw it as a last attempt at compromise. Others viewed it as a tactical move to extract limited economic relief. Hull and Roosevelt agreed that no change in U.S. principles should occur simply because Japan added another negotiator. Kurusu’s arrival did not materially alter U.S. policy in October—but it did set the stage for the November proposals.

Kurusu was a senior, well-connected diplomat who had negotiated the Tripartite Pact in Berlin, pPersonal familiarity with Western diplomats, and had a reputation for directness and political realism. Tokyo chose him precisely because he was not a routine Foreign Ministry channel.

By October 1941, Japan sensed that Washington had concluded Ambassador Nomura lacked authority. Sending Kurusu was meant to signal that Japan was serious about reaching an agreement, even though Tokyo was unwilling to alter its basic positions on China or the alliance with Germany. Kurusu’s presence was intended to restore credibility to Japanese diplomacy without changing policy.

Japanese leaders hoped Kurusu’s personal rapport might ease American suspicions, encourage flexibility from Cordell Hull, and possibly reopen the idea of a modus vivendi (temporary agreement). This reflected a persistent Japanese belief that the impasse was partly due to misunderstanding or tone, rather than incompatible objectives.

By this time, Japan’s oil reserves were dwindling rapidly. Kurusu’s mission was also tactical in that it was hoped they could gain time for Japan’s military preparations as, in parallel, explore whether limited economic relief, especially oil, could be secured without major withdrawals.

Kurusu arrived too late and with too little authority. He was unable to offer full withdrawal from China, or renounce the Tripartite Pact. While Kurusu improved the tone, he could not bridge the substantive gap. Japan sent Kurusu because it wanted peace without surrender, time without retreat, and flexibility from the U.S. without changing its own strategic commitments. Kurusu’s mission revealed not diplomatic innovation but revealed the final limits of what Japan was willing to concede.

October 1941 was not a month of dramatic diplomatic initiatives. It was a month when each side consolidated and repeated their positions. By the end of October Roosevelt and Hull believed Japan faced a choice, not a misunderstanding. Japan’s leadership had concluded that diplomacy was unlikely to secure oil without unacceptable concessions Thus, October became the bridge between a season of extended negotiation (summer 1941) and and the final crisis diplomacy during November 1941.

October at Sea

In October 1941, the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN) moved from contingency planning to quiet but definitive operational preparation for a possible December conflict with the U.S. The shifts were deliberate and carefully constructed to appear as normal fleet readiness operations. The key inflection point had been the Imperial Conference of September 6th, past which detailed operations orders began to be issued, and special projects brought from field testing to weapons preparation. IJN Commander-in-Chief of the Combined Fleet, Admiral Yamamoto, had already insisted that if war came, it must begin with a decisive opening blow to the Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor.

In early October, the Combined Fleet was placed on heightened readiness as war plans moved from theoretical exercises to rehearsed operations, especially among the aircraft carrier divisions. There was  intensified training on coordinating multiple carriers with multiple strike groups, all acting as one attack force. In the history of naval aviation this had never been done before. Carrier divisions began systematic coordination, air groups practiced mass takeoff, long-distance navigation, and coordinated attack profiles. There was an emphasis on torpedo and dive-bombing accuracy. Torpedoes were specially modified to compensate for the relatively shallow waters of Pearl Harbor. By the end of the month the First Air Fleet became a functionally unified striking force, even as they remained geographically dispersed.

October also saw less visible but critical moves: fuel stockpiling at forward bases, coordination of fleet fuel oil tanker movements and underway refueling, logistics support, and scheduling of maintenance so that key vessels would be available by late November.

Meanwhile, in October 1941, the U.S. Pacific Fleet was active in routine, but enhanced training. Aircraft carriers were active and ferrying planes to bases in Hawaii.  Cruisers, destroyers, and battleships were active training for nighttime engagements. And other activities, but not so much as to move to a wartime footing.

Both Army Air Corp (B-17s) and the Navy (PBY Catalinas) had limited planes available for patrol and reconnaissance.  Admiral Kimmel requested an additional 100 PBYs to provide the minimum air space monitoring. There weren’t 100 and what was available were being assigned to the Atlantic Fleet as part of anti-submarine patrols and convoy escorts. Kimmel received 8 additional planes.

Neither the Army or Navy had access to the MAGIC intelligence gathered by Washington at Fleet Main. They were sent what headquarters believed they needed. What they did receive emphasized the possibility of Japanese action in Southeast Asia, risks to the Philippines and British possessions, but there was no specific intelligence indicating Hawaii as a target. As a result local command in Hawaii might be threatened at some point, but only after a Japanese strike elsewhere.

Preparedness can be described as training routinely, not urgently while being defensively oriented, and unaware that Japan was already transitioning to an operational attack posture


Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archives. 

Jesus and the Samaritan townspeople.

John brings the Samaria narrative to a close by focusing on the success of the Samaritan mission. Verse 39 notes the faith in Jesus of many Samaritans and explicitly attributes the people’s faith to the woman’s “testimony” (martyria). She, like John the Baptist, is a witness who brings people to faith in Jesus. Also like John the Baptist (3:30), the woman’s witness diminishes in importance when the Samaritans have their own experience of Jesus (vv.40-42). The Samaritans invite Jesus to stay with them, and he stays for two days (if. 40). The use of the verb for “stay” (menō) recalls 1:38 and Jesus’ meeting with his first disciples. To stay with Jesus is to enter into a relationship with him (cf. 15:4, 7). Many more persons come to faith in Jesus as a result of this stay (v.41), and in v.42 those who believe acknowledge that their own encounter with Jesus supplants the woman’s word. This is the model of witness and faith in the Fourth Gospel: The witness that leads to Jesus is replaced by one’s own experience of Jesus.

The Samaritans’ acclamation of Jesus as the savior of the world (v.42) is the most sweeping christological confession yet encountered in the Gospel. Salvation may be from the Jews (v.22 b), but it is not limited to the Jews. Ethnic and religious distinctions that figured prominently in this text (vv.9, 20-22) are dissolved in this recognition of the universality of salvation available in Jesus (cf. 3:17). The Samaritans’ confession evidences the truth of Jesus’ words in vv.21-24; the hour has indeed come when neither this mountain nor Jerusalem will define the worship of God


Christ and the Woman of Samaria | Pierre Mignard, 1681 | The North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh | PD

Momentum to War

In Washington August 1941, Ambassador Nomura continued discussions with Secretary of State Cordell Hull. Nomura emphasized Japan’s desire for peace and mutual understanding, but he lacked clear negotiating authority and often received delayed or contradictory instructions from Tokyo. Hull, meanwhile, insisted on his four principles: withdrawal from China, respect for sovereignty, non-aggression and interference in another country’s internal affairs, and equality of commercial opportunity in the Asia-Pacific region.  While the tone remained civil, the substance hardened. Hull increasingly doubted Japan’s sincerity, particularly as intelligence suggested that military timetables were advancing regardless of diplomacy.

The Imperial Conference

The Imperial Conference of September 6, 1941, marked the formal fusion of diplomacy and war planning. In the presence of Emperor Hirohito, Japan adopted a policy resolution stating that negotiations with the United States would continue through early October. If no agreement was reached, Japan would prepare for war against the United States, Britain, and the Netherlands. This decision was momentous. It established a deadline for diplomacy and subordinated negotiations to military necessity. It fundamentally shaped Japanese behavior for the remainder of 1941.

War planning, already in development, was accelerated now that a timeline was in place. The Army planned its move into the Philippines and Malay, while the Navy planned the attack on Pearl Harbor. Meanwhile, Konoe, increasingly isolated, still hoped for compromise. But the military interpreted the decision as authorization to proceed unless the U.S. accepted Japanese terms.

The Conference was not a simple presentation with Emperor Hirohito endorsing the decision. The questioning and conversation was extensive. Under questioning by the Emperor, Navy Chief of Staff Nagano acknowledged that Japan could not militarily defeat the U.S. He likened the decision for war to a doctor offering a dying patient a radical medical procedure with a 30% chance of success. Nagano advised the Emperor that the U.S. would pursue a protracted war, but that the current moment favored Japan if they attacked the U.S. by the end of 1941. He further commented that if Japan waited until the end of 1942, there was zero chance for success. His recommendation was to strike south for resources, not attack the U.S. and establish a defensive perimeter to deny U.S. access to the western Pacific. Part of his reasoning was that Germany would defeat the Soviets by the end of 1941 and that Britain would be invaded in the summer of 1942 putting pressure on the U.S. to support the European conflict.

Army Minister Sugiyama offered few details, but along with Ngano, under Imperial questioning, recognized that the Emperor placed a priority on diplomacy that led to peace in the region. When the Emperor asked if they agreed with that priority, both Sugiyama and Ngano agreed.

That all being said, nothing changed in the “Outline of National Priorities in View of the Changing Situation.” The Imperial Conference did not lock Japan into war with the U.S., but ramped up the momentum towards war, narrowed the room for diplomacy, as well as setting a deadline for diplomacy’s success.  

Konoe, increasingly isolated, still hoped for compromise. But the military interpreted the Imperial decision as authorization to fully prepare and proceed to a war footing unless the U.S. accepted Japanese terms. Throughout September 1941 Prime Minister Konoe pressed for a meeting with President Roosevelt but was constrained to use the language of the “Outline.” Via back channels, Konoe tried to communicate to U.S. Ambassador Grew that in 1-on-1 talks, Konoe would abandon the hard points of the “Outline.”  Konoe was also clear that without the meeting, the Konoe Cabinet would fall leading to a virtual military dictatorship.

The Institute Report

In late August 1941 the Total War Research Institute concluded that Japan would lose any war with the United States – these were similar to the estimates from the War Ministry and IJA General Staff Intelligence reports. The Total War Research Institute (Sōryokusen Kenkyūjo) was established in 1940 under the Prime Minister’s office. It brought together elite civilian bureaucrats, military officers, economists, industrial planners, and academics. Its mission was not propaganda or operational planning, but cold strategic analysis: manpower, industry, resources, morale, finance, logistics, and the sustainability of total war sustainability against the United States, Britain, and their allies. 

The report was presented to leadership throughout September. Its conclusions were stark and were prescient in the way the war played out:

  • Japan could expect early tactical successes, especially at sea.
  • Long-term victory was impossible against the industrial and economic power of the United States.
  • Japan would face severe oil and raw material shortages
  • Japan was unable to match U.S. industrial replacement capacity
  • Likely blockage and limited merchant shipping would lead to gradual economic exhaustion

The report noted that even a favorable early war would likely end in defeat within several years unless the U.S. chose to negotiate early which the Institute judged unlikely. The Institute’s famous bottom line was that war against the U.S. would be strategically irrational unless Japan fundamentally altered its political objectives.


Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archives.

The return of the disciples

This passage provides a bridge between Jesus’ conversations with the woman and with his disciples (vv.31-38). The disciples’ reaction to Jesus is similar to the woman’s initial response to him (v.9): shock that Jesus would violate social conventions. Unlike the woman, However, the disciples keep their questions to themselves.

The woman makes no response to Jesus’ bold self-revelation, perhaps because of the disciples’ return. She departs from the well, leaving her water jar behind. Like much narrative detail in the Fourth Gospel (e.g., 1:37-39), the detail about the jar works on two levels simultaneously. On the level of the plot line, the abandoned water jar provides a link between the two conversations at the well. The woman’s jar will stand before Jesus and his disciples as they speak. Yet the detail also has meaning on a more theological level. The abandoned jar suggests that the woman’s concern of v.15, the desire for miraculous water, has been superseded by the revelation of Jesus’ identity. 

In response to her conversation with Jesus, the woman goes into town and bears witness to what she has heard. Her witness is threefold. First, she invites her fellow townspeople to “come and see.” This invitation is crucial in the Fourth Gospel (cf. 1:37-39, 46). It is an invitation to participate in the life of faith, to experience Jesus for oneself. Second, the woman offers her own experience as the basis of her witness, which here may build on the Samaritan expectation of a teaching Messiah (cf. v.25). Third, she broaches the question of whether Jesus might be the Messiah. The translation accurately captures the tentativeness of the woman’s words. (The question begins with the negative particle (meti) in the Greek, a construction that anticipates a negative or contradicting response.) She cannot quite believe that Jesus is the Messiah, since he challenges her conventional messianic expectations (vv.23-25), but her lack of certitude does not stand in the way of her witness. The woman’s behavior stands in marked contrast to many characters in the Fourth Gospel who will insist on their own certitudes (e.g., Nicodemus, 3:9; the crowds, 6:25-34; the Pharisees, 9:24-34) and hence close themselves to what Jesus offers. The woman’s witness brings the townspeople to Jesus (v.30). Their movement toward him provides the backdrop for Jesus’ conversation with his disciples.

Conversation between Jesus and his disciples

Jesus’ conversation with his disciples follows a similar pattern to his conversation with the woman, albeit abbreviated. It opens with a dialogue that revolves around a misunderstanding about the meaning of “food” (brōsis, vv.31-33; cf. the misunderstanding about “living water” in vv.10-15). This dialogue is followed by a longer speech by Jesus (vv.34-38; cf. vv.21-24) in which he offers a new way of thinking to his conversation partners. Both of these final speeches by Jesus have an eschatological orientation.

The disciples ask Jesus to eat the food that they have brought from town (v.31; cf. v.8), but Jesus does not accede to their request (v.32). The disciples are confused by Jesus’ words and assume that he must be referring to food that someone else had brought him (v.33; cf. vv.11-12). In v.34, Jesus makes clear that the food that sustains him is his vocation: to do the will of the one who sent him and complete God’s work. God is frequently described in the Fourth Gospel as the one who sent Jesus (e.g., 5:23-24, 30) and Jesus’ mission is often characterized as doing the will and the work of God (5:30, 36; 6:38; 10:37-38). Jesus’ description of his food is deeply connected to Johannine christology; food is the metaphor for Jesus’ divine commission and the enactment of the relationship between Jesus and God. Verse 34 underscores that any discussion of Jesus’ identity is meaningless apart from a discussion of his vocation. The necessity of Jesus’ journey into Samaritan territory and his conversation with the woman can be understood as examples of Jesus’ “food,” of doing the will and work of God; true food which sustains him.

The focus of Jesus’ words now shifts slightly. Jesus has just spoken of his role in completing the work of the one who sent him; he then turns to a traditional biblical image of completion—the harvest (e.g., Isa 27:12; Joel 3:13). Harvest imagery is structured around two agricultural proverbs.

In v.35, Jesus draws his disciples’ attention to a common agricultural saying (“Do you not say, ‘In four months the harvest will be here’? I tell you, look up and see the fields ripe for the harvest “). This proverb has not been attested outside the Fourth Gospel, but it reflects agricultural life in ancient Palestine; there is a waiting period between seedtime and harvest. At the end of v.35, Jesus informs his disciples that the waiting is over. Jesus exhorts his disciples to look around them: “look up and see the fields.” Jesus asks his disciples to attend carefully to the situation in which they find themselves, to read the data of their own experience instead of trusting in conventional wisdom (this motif will appear again in 9:28-33, where the blind man’s trust in his own experience is superior to conventional teachings). In their immediate context, Jesus’ words draw the disciples’ attention to the Samaritans who are coming to him. The “crop” of Samaritan believers is proof that the harvest is ready.

Jesus’ words echo what he said earlier to the Samaritan woman: “The hour is coming, and is now here” (v.23). The conventional understanding is that one must wait for the Messiah/harvest (vv.25, 35a). In reality, both are here now – again echoing the earlier conversation with the woman.

Verse 36 continues the imagery of the immediacy of the harvest. The reaper is already at work, receiving wages, gathering fruit. Sower and reaper now share in the joy of the harvest echoing Psalm 126 and Isaiah 9:3). It is tempting to suggest God as the sower and Jesus the reaper – and perhaps rightly so. But rather than looking outside the Johannine text. John the Baptist told the parable of the bridegroom and his friend to illustrate joy (3:29); Jesus now tells the parable of the sower and the reaper to illustrate the arrival of the eschatological present and its attending joy.

The second agricultural proverb occurs in v.37: One sows and another reaps. The reality of the saying is playing out in real time: I sent you to reap what you have not worked for; others have done the work, and you are sharing the fruits of their work.  Point being that the woman has done the sowing and they will reap the harvest of her efforts. This seems to point to the disciples’ future, when they will be “sent” (apostellō) by Jesus to continue his work (e.g., 17:18; 20:21). The latter part of this account is a foreshadowing of the mission of the early church (Acts 8:4-24).


Christ and the Woman of Samaria | Pierre Mignard, 1681 | The North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh | PD

Disturbed

I am a bit troubled by today’s readings. The gospel is this uncomfortable sequence in which Jesus, for the third time, has told his disciples 

Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes, and they will condemn him to death, and hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and scourged and crucified.” 

At least this time Jesus lets them know he will be raised from the dead… not that they understand what he is telling them – or maybe they weren’t really listening.

Then comes the mother of the sons of Zebedee. It is as though they are saying: “OK, sure, that’s all good and well, but when you come into your kingdom…” 

There is a part of me that wants to reply, “Really?!?” 

And there is the part of me that is troubled. 

How many times have I missed the important Words of God while I was thinking of something else, something focused more on me than on the ones I am called to serve. When I am focused on my list of things to do… no doubt important … but are they things of service to the Lord and his people?

I wonder if sometimes I am exactly like the people in the first reading who are conspiring against Jeremiah. They’re thinking: So what if we get rid of Jeremiah, “It will not mean the loss of instruction from the priests, nor of counsel from the wise, nor of messages from the prophets.”  At least not the ones who give us what we want to hear, offer easy grace, and don’t disturb us from our view of the world.

The Word of God: just last week the prophet Isaiah told us that the Word goes out and accomplishes its mission and does not return to God empty-handed. 

The question is will the Word return with us in hand? Did we listen even when it made us uncomfortable, disturbed our world view, and shone a light on a path we are less-than-willing to walk.

The world is not ready to hear the disturbing words of the Gospel. Folks don’t like the true prophet who draws people’s attention to the things they don’t want to hear. Folks need to figure all that out. 

But what about us? Are we willing to be disturbed?


Image credit: The Prophet Jeremiah, Michelangelo, fresco on ceiling of Sistine Chapel, Vatican City | Public Domain

The Turning Point

The previous posts attempted to lead the reader through the labyrinth of thoughts and attitudes that formed the currents of Japanese-U.S. relationship from the beginning of 1941 until June 1941. Within the U.S. government, the key figures were already in place and would remain so for the remainder of 1941 as would their views and recommendations. Within the Japanese government the same could not be said. There were changes in the Foreign Ministry, Navy Ministry, and in the office of the Prime Minister. These changes are a reflection of the changing and narrowing of Japanese options.

In May of 1941, after months of private negotiations, Ambassador Nomura delivered Hull’s 4 principles to Tokyo. They were sent without context. Nomura never indicated that these were at the core of Secretary Hull’s agenda. Foreign Minister Matsuoka rejected them in substance and issued a counter-position that sharply redefined the terms of any agreement. Hull’s Four Principles (sovereignty and territorial integrity; non-interference; equality of commercial opportunity; peaceful change) were, in Matsuoka’s view, abstract and one-sided. His counter proposal stressed five key elements:

  1. Any settlement had to recognize Japan’s leadership role and security needs on the Asian mainland. This meant the U.S. had to recognize Japan’s “special position” in East Asia, especially in China, which the Four Principles implicitly denied. 
  2. Non-abrogation of the Tripartite Pact: Japan would not renounce or dilute its alliance with Germany and Italy as a precondition for talks.
  3. Reciprocal non-interference, meaning the U.S. should cease material and moral support for China, notably aid to Chiang Kai-shek, if Japan were to consider moderation of its China policy.
  4. Stability through spheres of responsibility, not universal rules. Japan argued that regional order required acknowledging existing facts created by force.
  5. Economic normalization first, particularly restoration of trade (notably oil), before political or military concessions.

In effect, Matsuoka transformed Hull’s universal principles into a regional, power-based framework that preserved Japan’s gains in China and its axis-powers alliance commitments. This response hardened American skepticism about Japan’s sincerity and widened the gap that later negotiators, after Matsuoka’s removal in July 1941, would struggle unsuccessfully to bridge.

At this point, Japanese–American relations were already severely strained. Four years of war in China, Japan’s alignment with Germany and Italy, and growing American economic pressure had narrowed the space for compromise. Yet neither side regarded war as inevitable in June 1941. Diplomacy continued, but increasingly as a race against time, shaped by internal political constraints and strategic calculations.

In Tokyo, the central question was whether Japan could secure its objectives, especially access to vital resources, without provoking war with the United States. The Japanese made efforts to secure long term oil delivery contracts through the Dutch East Indies. However it was not purely a commercial proposal, the request while offering preferred trading status to the Dutch East Indies also required recognition of Japan’s territorial gains and regional leadership. The Dutch rejected any agreement that implied political concessions or recognition of Japanese expansion in China or Southeast Asia. They coordinated closely with the United States and Britain, aligning Dutch policy with the broader Allied strategy of economic pressure. After Japan’s move into southern Indochina, the Dutch joined the asset freezes and export controls, effectively ending meaningful oil sales to Japan. 

For Japanese leaders, the Dutch refusal was decisive. It confirmed that no major Western power would break ranks to supply oil. It reinforced the military argument that Japan must seize the oil fields rather than negotiate for access. By late summer 1941, Japanese planning explicitly assumed that oil would be taken by force if diplomacy failed.

In Washington, the question was whether Japan could be deterred from further expansion without concessions that would undermine U.S. commitments to its alliance partners: China, Britain, and the Netherlands.

Outline of National Priorities

The decisive turning point on the Japanese side came at the Liaison Conference of June 27–30, 1941, attended by civilian leaders, Army and Navy chiefs, and senior bureaucrats. This body coordinated policy between the government and the military and effectively set the framework for subsequent diplomacy. The conference produced the document titled “Outline of National Priorities in View of the Changing Situation.” When is this in time? It is before the Japanese move into Southern Indochina and the subsequent financial freeze and de facto oil embargo.

The significance of the document lay not in operational details but in its strategic logic. The core assumption of the “Outline of National Priorities” were:

  • The European war favored Japan in the short term, as Britain was stretched and Germany appeared dominant.
  • The United States was the primary long-term threat, due to its industrial capacity and naval power.
  • Japan must secure the resources of Southeast Asia, especially oil, to sustain both the China war and national defense.
  • Diplomacy should be pursued—but without sacrificing core objectives, especially Japan’s position in China.

The document endorsed a dual-track policy: (1) continue negotiations with the United States and (2) preparations for military expansion southward if diplomacy failed. Importantly, the conference concluded that waiting passively risked strangulation through economic pressure. This logic framed all subsequent diplomatic negotiations.

The “Outline” was handled as a confidential document that was never transmitted via diplomatic cables and so the U.S. was unable to intercept and decode. While the U.S. decision makers never saw the “Outline”, through other MAGIC intercepts of Tokyo–Washington diplomatic instructions, U.S. officials inferred Japan’s strategic direction, deadlines, and bargaining posture. Messages revealed that Japan was operating under time pressure, that negotiations had implicit deadlines, and that military preparations were proceeding in parallel with diplomacy. These intercepts conveyed the effects of the Outline: rigidity on China, insistence on economic relief, willingness to risk war. but not its formal articulation or internal debates.

June was also an important month in that Germany invaded the Soviet Union on June 22, 1941 requiring Japanese leaders to reassess their strategic options. With the Soviet threat temporarily reduced as they turned to the West to face the German advance, Japanese attention shifted decisively south. In early July, another Liaison Conference approved the occupation of southern French Indochina, a move that went far beyond earlier deployments in northern Indochina. 

The decision of the Liaison Conference to advance into southern French Indochina was formally presented to, and approved by, the Emperor at an Imperial Conference on July 2, 1941. At that Imperial Conference, the government and military placed before Emperor Hirohito the policy resolution that authorized the southern advance into Indochina, continued diplomacy with the United States and Britain, and simultaneous preparation for possible war should diplomacy fail. The Emperor gave his assent, making the move into southern Indochina official state policy. Although well after the fact and Japan’s move into Southern Indochina, on August 8th MAGIC intercepted a message detailing the decision of the July 2nd Imperial Conference.

Although presented diplomatically as a stabilizing measure, it was widely understood by Tokyo and Washington alike as a direct threat to British Malaya and the Dutch East Indies. The American response was swift and severe: Japanese assets in the U.S. were frozen and oil exports effectively ceased. For Japanese leaders, this was a shock. While economic pressure had been anticipated, the scale and immediacy of the oil cutoff transformed diplomacy from a matter of advantage into one of national survival. The oil cutoff intensified internal divisions:

  • The Army argued that Japan had little choice but to prepare for war. Prolonged negotiation would only weaken Japan’s position.
  • The Navy warned that war with the United States was unwinnable in the long term but concluded that if war was unavoidable, it should be fought sooner rather than later.
  • Prime Minister Konoe Fumimaro sought a diplomatic breakthrough, including a personal summit with President Roosevelt, but lacked the authority to compel military compromise.

Throughout July and August, Liaison Conferences repeatedly reaffirmed the need to continue negotiations while accelerating military preparations, an inherently unstable posture.


Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archive.

The Conversation: Part 2

This coming weekend is the 3rd Sunday of Lent. In the previous post we went into great detail about the first part of the conversation between Jesus and the Samaritan woman (thru John 4:15). Now we will continue to dive into the details in order to unpack this amazing narrative.

16 Jesus said to her, “Go call your husband and come back.” 17 The woman answered and said to him, “I do not have a husband.” Jesus answered her, “You are right in saying, ‘I do not have a husband.’ 18 For you have had five husbands, and the one you have now is not your husband. What you have said is true.” 19 The woman said to him, “Sir, I can see that you are a prophet. 20 Our ancestors worshiped on this mountain; but you people say that the place to worship is in Jerusalem.” 21 Jesus said to her, “Believe me, woman, the hour is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem. 22 You people worship what you do not understand; we worship what we understand, because salvation is from the Jews. 23 But the hour is coming, and is now here, when true worshipers will worship the Father in Spirit and truth; and indeed the Father seeks such people to worship him. 24 God is Spirit, and those who worship him must worship in Spirit and truth.” 25 The woman said to him, “I know that the Messiah is coming, the one called the Anointed; when he comes, he will tell us everything.” 26 Jesus said to her, “I am he, the one who is speaking with you.”

Go call your husband. Jesus introduces a new topic in v.16 possibly to provide a fresh angle on his identity: Jesus said to her, “Go call your husband and come back.”  Prior to this, Jesus’ invitation to the woman was couched in the metaphor of living water. Now Jesus’ invitation will be grounded in the woman’s own life.

Continue reading

When Worship and Life Drift Apart

Both readings today speak with a sharpness that may unsettle us but it is the sharpness of a physician’s scalpel, not a weapon. God is not condemning for the sake of condemning. He is calling His people back to integrity, back to a faith that is lived and not merely displayed.

Through the prophet Isaiah, God addresses leaders who are very religious on the surface. They offer sacrifices. They observe rituals. They show up for worship. And yet God says something shocking: “I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity.” In other words, religious activity has become disconnected from moral conversion.

So God does not ask for more prayer, more offerings, or more public devotion. Instead, He says: “Wash yourselves clean. Put away your misdeeds. Learn to do good. Make justice your aim.” God is not rejecting worship. He is rejecting worship that does not change how people live.

Jesus makes the same point in the Gospel from Matthew, though He directs it squarely at religious leaders. The scribes and Pharisees know the law. They teach correctly. But Jesus says they “do not practice what they teach.” Faith has become something they perform rather than embody.

Jesus’ concern is not with leadership itself, but with leadership that seeks recognition instead of responsibility. Titles, honors, places of importance—these become substitutes for humility. And when faith becomes about being seen, it quietly stops being about being faithful.

At the heart of both readings is a single question God asks every generation:
Does your worship shape your life or does it simply decorate it?

God desires a people whose prayer leads to justice, whose knowledge of the law leads to mercy, and whose closeness to God leads to humility. That is why Jesus ends with a simple but demanding truth: “Whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

Humility, in Scripture, is not thinking less of ourselves it is living honestly before God, allowing Him to align our words, our worship, and our actions. It is choosing consistency over appearance, conversion over comfort, obedience over applause.

Today’s readings invite us to examine not how religious we appear, but how deeply our faith is shaping our daily choices: how we speak, how we forgive, how we treat the vulnerable, and how we seek God when no one is watching.

If we are willing to listen, God still speaks the same promise Isaiah proclaimed: “If you are willing, and obey, you shall eat the good things of the land.”

Not because we performed well but because we allowed our hearts to be changed.


Image credit: CANVA, “a sailboat adrift” AI generated, downloaded Mar-1-2026

Dialogue within Japan

The previous posts focused on the internal dialogue within the United States government during the period January into June, 1941. The focus was limited to the Departments of State, Treasury, Army (War) and Navy; the office of the President of the United States; and even included independent non-governmental agents helping/confusing depending on one’s perspective. The positions and approaches on how to best engage the Japanese government were varied, sometimes inconsistent, and largely reactive to Japanese actions. The State Department under the leadership of Cordell Hull consistently advanced Hull’s “Four Principles” which were end-states of diplomacy without interim checkpoints and thus lacking in measured concrete progress. Within the Far East Division of State there were proponents of assertive action and response as well as those who wanted to always engage Japan diplomatically. The Treasury Department was largely “let’s use the financial tools available” and bring Japan’s aggression to heal. But, from that same department, the White Proposal took an approach which addressed material and non-materials concerns of Japan in measured and concrete ways. And then there was the President, Franklin D. Roosevelt, who preferred one-on-one meetings between leaders to make decisions.

That was a high-level view of the milieu in the U.S. What about in Japan?

Japan’s Internal Debates on the United States 

In the first half of 1941 the idea of war between Japan and the U.S. was not considered inevitable or even desirable. It was a period of strategic uncertainty, factional rivalry, economic anxiety, and diplomatic improvisation within Tokyo. Although Japan had already been at war in China for nearly four years, its leadership remained divided on how to consider the United States. Should they should be deterred, negotiated with, or ultimately confronted. Between January and June 1941, the Japanese government under Prime Minister Fumimaro Konoe wrestled with three interlocking questions:

  1. Could the China War be ended on terms acceptable to Japan?
  2. Should Japan align more deeply with Germany?
  3. Could conflict with the United States be avoided without abandoning imperial gains on mainland Asia? During the first half of 1941 this meant Manchuria, parts of Northern China, every major sea port in China, Taiwan (Formosa), Korea, and Northern French Indochina (North Vietnam)

The answers varied depending on whether one looked at political leaders, diplomats, or the armed services.

Political Circles: Konoe and the Problem of Survival

Prime Minister Konoe presided over a fragile civilian government increasingly overshadowed by military influence. In part by Meiji Constitution and in part by practice, the military occupied a minimum of four cabinet positions (Army, Navy, Army Minister, Navy Minister). If any one of them objected to a government policy or proposal, they simply resigned. This meant the Prime Minister had to form a new government and, as often was the case, the military refused to assign a new cabinet member until it received assurances that decisions would be in their favor. The Prime Minister had to navigate these waters.

Politically, three broad positions existed within the political arena: the pragmatists, the hardliners, and the diplomats. Prime Minister Konoe, cabinet members outside the military, leaders of key industries and others formed the “Pragmatists” view. They recognized Japan’s strategic weakness relative to the United States, especially in industrial capacity and oil supply. They favored:

  • Continued negotiations with Washington
  • A possible summit between Konoe and Roosevelt
  • Limited concessions (e.g., partial withdrawal from China under conditions)
  • Avoiding a two-front confrontation while Germany was at war with Britain

This group did not advocate abandoning imperial gains, but rather modulating expansion to avoid provoking U.S. intervention. However, Konoe’s weakness was structural. The military retained constitutional autonomy, and he lacked the authority to compel strategic compromise on their part, and sometimes to even control the military.

Right-wing politicians and ideological nationalists formed the group of “Hardliners” and by-in-large had the support of key elements within the military. The hardliners framed U.S. pressure and especially its support for China, as hostile interference in Japan’s rightful sphere. While not yet uniformly calling for immediate war, they increasingly depicted confrontation as inevitable. They argued that:

  • The United States’ goal was to strategically control Japan economically, tightening or loosing controls as needed until Japan complied with U.S. demands.
  • The Sino-Japanese War must be seen through to a political reordering of East Asia in which Japan established its own version of the Monroe Document. As the U.S. did in Central America and the Caribbean to eliminate despots and bandits, so too was China doing in China where war lords and the Chinese communists were disrupting peace and Japanese interests.
  • Any retreat from already achieved mainland Asia gains would undermine imperial prestige and internal cohesion and ultimately lead to losing it all.

The Diplomatic Circles were mostly associated with the Japanese Foreign Ministry. Unlike the U.S. where Cordell Hull had been in charge of the nation’s diplomacy, from 1930 until the end of 1941 Japan had ten different Foreign Ministers serving in 13 different cabinets. The high turnover reflected the instability of Japanese politics, the growing influence of the military, and the intensifying internal divisions over diplomacy toward China, the Tripartite Pact, and negotiations with the United States. Within the Foreign Ministry, debate was intense and more nuanced than often assumed and was not always clear to U.S. leaders who depended on Ambassador Joseph Grew whose connections were with the moderate wing of the government and was not always able to discern the shifting alliances and currents within the Japanese government. 

Within Tokyo some diplomats favored a modus vivendi, a temporary freeze on expansion into other Asian countries in exchange for economic relief. Others believed U.S. policy was fundamentally hostile and would not accept Japan’s position in China under any conditions other than full withdrawal. An intrinsic problem was always China because Japan’s government was always reacting to independent decisions being made in China by the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA). Japan never had a policy or “end game” for China. As a result, diplomats lacking concrete instructions were often negotiating without authority or substance regarding the central issue: China. 

When Admiral Nomura was sent to Washington DC, he was sent without instructions regarding any aspect of U.S.-Japanese relations and trouble spots – and yet was expected to steer the relationship away from confrontation with the U.S.  Nomura, who had spent extensive time in the U.S. believed that war with the U.S. would be catastrophic. As a result his default position was incremental compromise to stabilize relationships and renormalize trade. This likely created the environment where Nomura was drawn into the Maryknoll/John Doe dialogue and then later private negotiations with Secretary Hull. The effect was 6 months passed and U.S.-Japanese relations were as they had been since the beginning of 1941.

Debate within the Imperial Army and Navy

The most consequential debates occurred within the armed forces, particularly between the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA) and the Imperial Japanese Navy (IJN). The Army remained focused primarily on securing victory in China and guarding against Soviet Union incursion into Manchuria (the northern strategy). However, after Germany invaded the Soviet Union in June 1941, Army factions renewed the debate about striking north into Siberia while the Soviets were occupied on the eastern front.

Even before June, many Army leaders believed economic strangulation by the U.S. would force Japan’s hands to launch offensive military action to the resource-rich Southwest Pacific. That said, in early 1941 the Army had not yet finalized a decision for war with the United States but knew that the southern expansion would increase the likelihood of war with the Americans.

The Navy’s position was paradoxical and was increasingly the more important voice from military circles. Senior naval leaders recognized U.S. industrial superiority., understood a long war would likely end in Japanese defeat, and yet believed that if war came, it must begin with a decisive blow to take the U.S. out of the conflict for a period while Japan consolidated gains in the south and created a defensive zone to the east against the U.S. fleet. In early 1941, many in the Navy preferred avoiding war if possible but in any case to have more time for adequate preparation. 

But there was a contingent of naval officers that understood the U.S. was in the midst of  building a two-ocean navy with the 1940 signing of the Naval Expansion Act. The act authorized the U.S. Navy to build 18 aircraft carriers, 7 battleships, 33 cruisers, 115 destroyers, 43 submarines, 15,000 aircraft, and 100,000 tons of auxiliaries. It was thought that a surprise attack was necessary, but the policy was not settled.

Economic Realities and Strategic Anxiety

Among all the groups, a central driver of debate was oil. Japan imported roughly 80% of its oil from the United States. By early 1941 U.S. export controls were tightening, Japanese reserves were finite and economic planners warned of severe vulnerability as the military operations continued to draw down oil reserves. The strategic dilemma became increasingly stark:

  • Concede in China to preserve economic survival?
  • Or seize resource-rich Southeast Asia (Dutch East Indies) and risk U.S. war?

This tension simmered throughout the first half of 1941 but did not fully crystallize until after July.

By June 1941, Japan had not yet decided on war with the United States. Japan’s internal debate was characterized by:

  • Political fragility within Konoe’s government
  • Diplomatic efforts lacking decisive authority
  • Military contingency planning without full consensus
  • Growing anxiety over economic vulnerability

The period was one of conditional escalation rather than inevitability. War became likely only when the internal  debates (oil, China, and southern expansion) collapsed into a consensus after the summer crisis of 1941: the invasion of Southern French Indochina and the subsequent U.S. economic freeze and oil embargo. Any settlement that required major withdrawal was politically impossible at home in Japan.


Image credit: various photographs from Naval Aviation Museum, National World War II Museum, and US Navy Archive. |