By Jenny Kraska

At first hearing the Gospel reading, the words of Jesus can be unsettling: “Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” We know Jesus as the Prince of Peace, the One who came to reconcile all things to the Father. Yet in this Gospel reading He speaks of fire, division, and strife.

This apparent contradiction can leave us perplexed. But Christ Himself was a sign of contradiction, as Simeon foretold when the infant Jesus was presented in the Temple. His life and mission revealed the love and mercy of God, yet that same truth and love confronted sin, hypocrisy, and injustice. The Gospel comforts the afflicted but also afflicts the comfortable.

To follow Christ is to share in His mission, and that means we too will sometimes become signs of contradiction. Our call to be saints and to bear witness to the Gospel will not always be met with applause or agreement. Truth, even when spoken with love, can stir resistance. Think of St. Thomas More, who stood firm for the authority of the Church, knowing it would cost him his life. Or St. Oscar Romero, whose defense of the poor and call for justice provoked threats, division, and ultimately martyrdom. Holiness often comes with a cost.

Division in this context is not about fostering hostility for its own sake. Rather, it is the inevitable result when the light of Christ shines into a world still marked by darkness. Some will receive that light with joy; others will turn away. The Gospel challenges us to choose between comfort and conversion, self-interest and sacrificial love, earthly peace and the peace that only God can give.

This month, the world marks the 80th anniversary of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki – two events that brought the horrors of World War II to a close yet left deep wounds in the human family. These anniversaries remind us of the tension that Jesus describes. The human longing for peace is universal, but history shows how far we often are from the peace Christ offers. Nuclear weapons brought an end to fighting, but at a terrible cost to human life and dignity. The division between God’s vision for humanity and the choices we make in fear, pride, or revenge remains painfully real.

In remembering Hiroshima and Nagasaki, we are called not simply to lament the past but commit ourselves anew to the Gospel path of peace – a peace rooted in truth, justice, and conversion of heart. This peace is not naïve or fragile; it is forged in the fire of the Holy Spirit; the same fire Jesus speaks of in this Gospel. It is peace that refuses to compromise with evil, even when such refusal brings conflict or suffering.

May we embrace our calling as disciples to be, like Christ, signs of contradiction – witnesses to a love that is stronger than death and a peace the world cannot give.