2020
Atomic Bombs, U.S. Marines, and a Japanese Christmas Concert
December 2020


Area Presidency Message

Atomic Bombs, U.S. Marines, and a Japanese Christmas Concert

“We know something of your American Christmases,” he said. “We should like to do something to make your Christmas in Japan more enjoyable.”

Each Christmas, we have a family tradition to read our favorite Christmas stories. Sister Nattress and I have come to love a story that was shared by President James E. Faust (1920-2007) in December 2004. He recounted an experience told by Kenneth J. Brown who was serving as a U.S. Marine in Japan following the dropping of two atomic bombs in World War II. Brother Brown shared a brief description of a humble, yet courageous man who he described as follows:

“His polite bow to me was no bow of submission. Rather his squared shoulders and lifted head let me feel as if I were looking up at him even . . . though I towered over him a foot or more” . . .

“I respectfully asked if I could be of service. [In his clear English] he introduced himself as Professor Iida. …

“‘I am Christian,’ he said. ‘I am told this is the head minister’s office. Are you a Christian? It is good to talk with a follower of Christ; there are so few Christian Japanese.’

“I took him to the inner office of the division chaplain and waited while the two men conversed. Professor Iida stated his request briefly. He was a teacher of music in a Christian girls’ college until it was closed by imperial command. . . . He had been imprisoned because of his professed Christianity. After being released he had returned to Nagasaki and continued his music instruction in his home even though it was forbidden. He had been able to continue a small chorus and would be pleased if . . . they [could] sing a concert for the American Marines.

“‘We know something of your American Christmases,’ he said. ‘We should like to do something to make your Christmas in Japan more enjoyable.’

“I felt sure the chaplain would give a negative reply. Our unit was one of hardened fighters, four years away from home, who had fought the enemy from Saipan to Iwo Jima. . . . Yet there was something about the man that bespoke sincere desire to do a good deed so that . . . permission was granted. The concert would be held on Christmas Eve. …

“The concert was well attended; there was nothing else to do. The theater . . . had been cleared of its fallen roof and men were sitting on the jagged walls. The usual momentary hush fell over the audience as the performers filed on stage. …

“The first thing we noticed was that they were singing in English and we became aware that they didn’t understand the words but had memorized them for our benefit. Professor Iida had taught his students well; they sang beautifully. We sat enthralled as if a choir from heaven were singing for us. . . . It was as if Christ were being born anew that night.

“The closing number was a solo, an aria from ‘The Messiah.’ The girl sang with all the conviction of one who knew that Jesus was indeed the Savior of mankind and it brought tears. After that there was a full minute of silence followed by sustained applause as the small group took bow after bow.

“Later that night I helped Professor Iida take down the trimmings. I could not resist asking some questions that propriety forbade but curiosity demanded. I just had to know.

“‘How did your group manage to survive the bomb?’ I asked.

“‘This is only half my group,’ he said softly, but seemed unoffended at my recalling his grief so that I felt I could ask more.

“‘And what of the families of these?’

“‘They nearly all lost one or more members. Some are orphans.’

“‘What about the soloist? She must have the soul of an angel the way she sang.’

“‘Her mother, two of her brothers were taken. Yes, she did sing well; I am so proud of her. She is my daughter.’ . . .

“The next day was Christmas, the one I remember best. For that day I knew that Christianity had not failed in spite of people’s unwillingness to live His teachings. I had seen hatred give way to service, pain to rejoicing, sorrow to forgiveness. This was possible because a babe had been born in a manger [and] later taught love of God and fellowmen. We had caused them the greatest grief and yet we were their Christian brothers and as such they were willing to forget their grief and unite with us in singing, ‘Peace on earth, goodwill to all men.’ …

“That day also I knew that there was a greater power on earth than the atomic bomb.”1

Speaking of the Savior, President Nelson said that He “came to pay a debt He didn’t owe, because we owed a debt we couldn’t pay.”2

How grateful we are for the Saviour of all mankind; His birth, His life, His infinite Atonement and His Resurrection. He is the Master Healer. He is the Light of the World. He has promised all of His children peace, happiness and eternal life as we come unto Him. May we share His love and our gratitude this Christmas Season and always as we love, forgive and serve one another.

Notes

  1. Kenneth J. Brown, as quoted in James E. Faust, “The Power of Peace,” Liahona, Dec. 2004, 3–4.

  2. Russell M. Nelson, in Handel’s Messiah: Debtor’s Prison (video), ChurchofJesusChrist.org/media-library.