Beneath the Surface

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist. One of the striking things about today’s celebration is that, although we celebrate the birth of St. John the Baptist, almost nothing dramatic happens apart from Zachariah being again able to speak. Otherwise, there are no miracles visible to the crowd. There is no theophany or voice from Heaven. The skies do not fold back to reveal the glory of God. Instead, there is simply the birth of a child.

To the neighbors and relatives gathered around Zechariah and Elizabeth, it was certainly an occasion for joy. They recognized God’s mercy in giving a son to an elderly couple who had long since given up hope of having children. But they could not possibly have known what God was preparing. They saw a child. God saw the prophet who would prepare the way for his Son. 

Turn the page and … and nothing. Today’s Gospel ends with a sentence that covers nearly thirty years in just a few words: “The child grew and became strong in spirit, and was in the desert until the day of his manifestation to Israel.” (Lk 1:80) Thirty years…summarized in one sentence. Why? Because those years were years of preparation. John’s public ministry would last only a short time. But before he ever preached a sermon or baptized a single person, God was quietly shaping him for the mission that lay ahead. The same quiet preparation is reflected in the first reading from Isaiah: ‘The LORD called me from birth, from my mother’s womb he gave me my name.” (Is 49:1)

Long before Isaiah spoke as a prophet, long before John preached in the wilderness, long before Jesus began his public ministry, God was already at work. That is often how God works. We usually notice God in the extraordinary moments—the answered prayer, the unexpected blessing, the turning point in our lives. But today’s feast reminds us that God is often doing his greatest work long before we recognize it.

He is preparing tomorrow while we are living today.

Most of our lives are not lived in dramatic moments. Most of life consists of ordinary days. Parents raising children. Students studying. People going to work. Someone caring for an aging spouse. A person faithfully coming to daily Mass. Someone quietly praying for a son or daughter who has wandered from the faith. Day after day, nothing seems remarkable. And yet God is at work.

Perhaps we underestimate what God can accomplish through ordinary faithfulness because we are too focused on immediate results. A teacher may never know how a word of encouragement changed a student’s life. A parent may not see the fruits of years of love and sacrifice until much later. We priests may never know how one homily, one confession, or one hospital visit strengthened someone’s faith. That is why today’s feast invites us to trust.

Trust that our prayers are not wasted. Trust that acts of kindness matter. Trust that the habits of faith we practice today are preparing us for what God will ask of us tomorrow.

John did not suddenly become the great prophet out there on the Jordan. God had been preparing him all along. The same is true for us. These ordinary days matter – all the routine, everyday mundane things matter if we trust and persevere in faith. There, beneath the surface, God is often accomplishing his greatest work. Maybe we see the fulfillment; maybe not.

One day, John would point to Jesus and say, “Behold, the Lamb of God. But before he could point others to Christ, God spent years preparing John’s own heart. Perhaps that is what God is doing in us right now. We may not yet know why he is asking us to be patient, or faithful, or persevering. We may not yet see what lies ahead. But we can trust that every day lived with faith becomes part of God’s larger plan.

We thank God for the extraordinary moments of our lives, but let us remember to thank Him for the ordinary ones, too. It is in the ordinary that God is preparing something extraordinary. He is preparing tomorrow…while we are faithfully living today. 

Amen.


Image credit: Mosaic in the Baptistry of the Duomo in Florence, Italy. Photograph by Sailko – Own work, CC BY 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=41892066

Taking up the Cross

Jesus uses the expression “take up his cross” here and more famously in Mt 16:24: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me.” What is Matthew’s intent in using this expression? Undoubtedly writing some 40 years after the Crucifixion, it echoes the Roman execution methods broadly and the death of Jesus specifically. The cross, in this context, represents the suffering, rejection, and ultimately, the crucifixion that Jesus himself would endure. Taking up one’s cross, therefore, implies a willingness to bear the hardships and challenges associated with following Jesus, even if it leads to personal sacrifice or persecution.

Matthew’s use of the expression “take up his cross” conveys several important messages:

  1. Self-Denial: To take up one’s cross means to deny oneself, to relinquish personal desires, ambitions, and comforts in order to fully commit to following Jesus. It implies a surrendering of one’s own will to align with God’s purposes.
  2. Identification with Christ: Taking up the cross signifies an identification with Jesus in his suffering and rejection. It means embracing the path that Jesus walked, even if it entails hardship or persecution. It is a call to imitate his sacrificial love and obedience to God.
  3. Counting the Cost: By using the image of the cross, Jesus underscores the seriousness and commitment required in discipleship. It is a call to count the cost and understand that following Jesus may involve personal sacrifice, including the possibility of enduring suffering or opposition.
  4. Radical Allegiance: Taking up the cross signifies a radical allegiance and loyalty to Jesus above all else. It requires placing Jesus at the center of one’s life and being willing to prioritize him over personal comforts, ambitions, or even the expectations of others.

Image credit: Sermon on the Mount (1877) by Carl Heinrich Bloch, Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Castle, Public Domain

Wisdom and Knowing When

We continue to draw our gospels from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Today the Gospel is taken from Matthew 7 which is the concluding part of the Sermon. The opening verse is not the most attractive saying: Do not give what is holy to dogs, or throw your pearls before swine, lest they trample them underfoot, and turn and tear you to pieces. (v.6). It might be surprising to hear such harshness as the verse comes immediately after Jesus has taught “Stop judging…” (v.1) and right before the “golden rule”: “Do to others whatever you would have them do to you.” (v.12)

Dogs in the ancient Near East were generally not household pets. They were scavengers, roaming in packs around villages. They symbolized what was unclean or outside the covenant community. Swine were ceremonially unclean animals according to the Mosaic Law. Jesus is not making a comparison with these two unclean animals and people, rather he is vividly reminding people about holiness. Do not give what is holy…” refers to things consecrated to God. Under the Law, meat from certain sacrifices belonged to God and was never to be treated casually or thrown to animals. The dog will have no concern about the meat having been an offering to God. Pearls, meanwhile, were among the most valuable possessions a person could own. Pigs cannot recognize their value. To a pig, a pearl is no more useful than a pebble. The says something immensely valuable is being offered to someone incapable of recognizing its value.

Across the ages, the Church’s understanding has been consistent. The most common interpretation is that Jesus is teaching discernment and learning to exercise prudence. The Gospel is offered to everyone, but not every moment is the right moment for every conversation. That is when discernment is needed. Sometimes a person is simply not ready to hear. Jesus himself demonstrates this as He speaks differently to the crowds, the disciples, the Pharisees, Pontius Pilate, and King Herod. Before Herod, Jesus remains silent. It is not because Herod is beyond redemption, but because Herod seeks only entertainment, not truth.

Discernment is not a lack of charity. It is part of wisdom.

Jesus is saying evangelization requires wisdom. He is not saying, “Give up on difficult people” as He send the apostles to everyone – even to the ends of the earth. But he also cautions them to seek discernment: “Whatever town or village you enter… if the house is unworthy… leave.” (Mt 10ff) and “if anyone will not welcome you… shake the dust from your feet.” (Mt 10:14) Sometimes continuing an argument only hardens hearts further. Sometimes silence witnesses more powerfully than debate.

This passage may be more relevant today than ever. We live in a culture of constant argument. Social media encourages endless debate. People often feel obligated to respond to every criticism of the Church, every hostile comment, every provocative post. Jesus reminds us that not every discussion is fruitful. Not every argument deserves our participation. Not every critic is genuinely seeking the truth. There is a difference between someone who asks sincere questions and someone who merely wishes to mock, ridicule, or provoke. Wisdom lies in knowing the difference. As Saint Augustine observed, charity itself sometimes requires us to recognize when further discussion will do more harm than good.

There is also another, gentler way to hear this Gospel. Think about the most precious things in your life:

  • your deepest friendships,
  • your love for your family,
  • your most profound experiences of God,
  • moments of prayer that changed your life.

These are pearls. Do not speak about them carelessly. Share them with people who will receive them reverently. The Gospel is the greatest pearl of all. Share it generously but also wisely. Pray for the grace to recognize when a heart is ready to receive it, and when the more loving response is to step back, continue praying, and wait for the Spirit to prepare the soil.

Ultimately, evangelization is not about winning arguments. It is about helping people discover the incomparable pearl that is life in Christ and in so doing encounter holiness.


Image credit: Sermon on the Mount (1877) by Carl Heinrich Bloch, Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Castle, Public Domain

Divisions

The coming Sunday is the 13th Sunday of Ordinary Time in Liturgical Year A. As Jesus had warned in earlier passages, there will be divisions within families that will bring a believer to a choice: loyalty to Jesus or the family.

37 “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me;38 and whoever does not take up his cross and follow after me is not worthy of me.39 Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

Jesus is emphasizing that the love and devotion his followers have for him should surpass even the strongest familial bonds. In Jewish culture, family relationships were highly valued and held significant importance. However, Jesus is asserting that his disciples’ commitment to him must take precedence over their love for their parents – even above their own children.

The verse does not mean that Jesus disregards the importance of familial relationships or discourages love for family members. Rather, it serves to emphasize the primacy of commitment to Jesus and his teachings. Jesus is calling for a radical reordering of priorities, where disciples should be willing to let go of any attachment that could hinder their complete devotion to him and his mission.

By stating that those who prioritize family relationships over their loyalty to him are “not worthy of me,” Jesus sets a high standard for discipleship. He emphasizes that true discipleship requires a wholehearted commitment and a willingness to let go of any competing loyalties.

It is important to note that Jesus’ words in this verse are intended to provoke self-examination and challenge his followers to consider the depth of their commitment to him as it points to a recurring theme in Jesus’ teachings, where he asks his followers to let go of earthly attachments and prioritize their relationship with God and the kingdom of heaven.

France notes, “Because of the division which Jesus provokes within families (vv. 34–36), true discipleship may bring a conflict of loyalties, and in that case, following Jesus must take precedence over the natural love of family (the Greek word is phileō, natural affection, not agapaō, the loving commitment which is a Christian characteristic). The Christian may even have to leave his family (19:29). The Lucan parallel (Luke 14:26) calls for ‘hatred’ of the family, but Matthew’s version correctly interprets this Semitic idiom (cf. Gen. 29:31; Deut. 21:15; Mal. 1:2–3) as an expression of prior loyalty or of choice rather than of actual dislike. Jesus calls not for an unloving attitude, but for a willingness to put him first in the concrete situation where the calls of Jesus and of family conflict.”

The “loss” of family is bad enough, but there is also another cost that might be required of the disciples. What is interesting is that all the while Jesus is warning the disciples of the rough times that lay ahead, much of Matthew 9 described the mission of Jesus as a spectacular success. It is natural to think that the disciples expected their mission, in His Name, to be as spectacular.  It is as though from “left field” that Jesus then introduces the imagery of the cross. There is no soothing image or metaphor for the cross. The cross in the sign of Roman domination and the power over an occupied people. To take up one’s cross is the description of a death sentence being implemented.

The disciple is asked to place aside his or her own inclinations and interests, as well as those of the natural family, in order to truly follow Jesus. To give up the life one once held (even unto death) is the path to find the life that is truly worth living.


Image credit: Sermon on the Mount (1877) by Carl Heinrich Bloch, Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Castle, Public Domain

True Family

The coming Sunday is the 13th Sunday of Ordinary Time in Liturgical Year A and continues to explore verses in the “Missionary Discourse” of Matthew’s gospel. Last week, in discussing the 12th Sunday passage (Mt 10:26-33) we noted that Jesus had sent the disciples on mission: we learn the names of the Twelve, hear of their commission (vv. 5-15), and, also, we hear warnings of the persecutions they will face (vv.16-25). It is after this warning that last week’s gospel, ominously opens with: “Therefore do not be afraid of them.” Yes, as Jesus warns, they will share in the life, mission, and suffering as will their Teacher. But, they are to trust the One who cares for the even smallest of creatures. The sparrows, which can be purchased for a pittance, are cared for by God (v.31) during their lifetime alive, but even their death is within the Creator’s care. All happens with “your Father’s knowledge” – and so the disciples are to trust.

The gospel for the 12th Sunday ends with a promise of salvation on the last day for those who acknowledge Jesus. The gospel for the 13th Sunday is almost like a “pep talk” encouraging the Twelve (who are still the audience for this discourse). Between the 12th and 13th Sundays, we do not cover several verses, important to the context of the reading:

“‘Do not think that I have come to bring peace upon the earth. I have come to bring not peace but the sword. For I have come to set a man ‘against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one’s enemies will be those of his household.’” (Mt 10:34-36)

While Jesus is often referred to as the Prince of Peace and his teachings promote peace and reconciliation, he clarifies that his arrival and message may have a disruptive impact on societal and familial relationships. Jesus is simply stating a reality that may occur as a result of his message and the choices individuals make in response to it.

These verses also add a new dimension. The hostilities the Twelve will face is not some  byproduct of the mission, it seems to be an intention of the mission. The purpose of Jesus’ coming, in part, is “not peace but the sword.” We should not be surprised. When a new kingdom is announced, the “old” kingdom does not go quietly into the night. It was the experience of the OT prophets and these NT apostles should not expect a different reception.

All this is asking for a radical loyalty – not just obedience to the teachings, but to witness to Him before the world. The text reflects a real situation in Matthew’s church, where people sometimes had to choose between their family and their faith. In some apocalyptic views, the breakdown of family structures is part of the terrors preceding the eschaton. Matthew finds this a meaningful framework within which to interpret the experience of his own church.

The gospels have already introduced the idea of the “true family” of Jesus, those who are already members of “his household” in v.25.  There Jesus had alluded to the community of disciples as Christ’s true family against the charge of possession by Beelzebul and the disruptions of the ties of natural kinship. It is Jesus’ affirmation of the Christian community as the family of God where ties are closer and more demanding than natural family ties.


Image credit: Sermon on the Mount (1877) by Carl Heinrich Bloch, Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Castle, Public Domain

Final Thought: Love outweighs fear

“Do not fear!”  has been repeated throughout this passage of the gospel for the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time. They serve to encourage the disciples to fearless confession in the face of opposition. Each saying is introduced by “Do not be afraid” (vv. 26, 28, 31) and attacks the fears that could cause the disciples to abandon their mission. The first saying (vv. 26–27) appeals to the inevitability of the coming of God’s kingdom and Jesus’ witness to it. Then the hypocrisy of the disciples’ opponents will be revealed. The second saying (vv. 28–30) appeals to God’s care for Jesus’ disciples. Their opponents can destroy the body but not the soul. The third saying (vv. 31–33) appeals to the final judgment before God, which will be based on the disciples’ faithfulness to Jesus during the conflicts that are part of their mission.

Jesus acknowledges the reality of fear, but asks that trust in God as loving Father outweigh the fear of the child.


Image credit: Image credit: The Sacrament of Ordination (Christ Presenting the Keys to Saint Peter), c. 1636-40, by Nicholas Poussin, Public Domain

What Kind of Eyes?

The gospels from the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5 and 6) continue and in many ways the underlying question remains for whom and with whom are we choosing to be formed; who and what are we becoming. 

“The lamp of the body is the eye. If your eye is sound, your whole body will be filled with light; but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be in darkness. And if the light in you is darkness, how great will the darkness be.” (Matthew 6:22-23)

This brief saying of Jesus in Gospel of Matthew 6:22-23 is one of the more intriguing passages in the Sermon on the Mount. At first hearing, it can sound cryptic. Yet in its biblical context, it is the gateway to a profound reflection on discipleship; one that is especially relevant in our visually saturated, media-driven world.

The passage comes immediately after Jesus’ teaching about storing up treasures in heaven (“Where your treasure is, there also will your heart be”) and immediately before his teaching that “You cannot serve God and mammon.” This placement is important. Jesus is not changing the subject. He is speaking about how our desires, values, and choices are shaped.

The New American Bible translates the Greek word haplous as “sound.” The word carries several meanings: healthy, whole, sincere, single-minded, or generous. Many biblical scholars think Jesus is describing an eye that is undivided in its focus on God. The “sound eye” sees reality clearly because it is not distorted by greed, envy, or selfish ambition. In Jewish tradition, the “good eye” was often associated with generosity. A person with a “good eye”  looked upon others with compassion and shared freely. By contrast, a person with an “evil eye” was stingy, jealous, or resentful. For example, in Book of Proverbs 22:9 (NAB), we read: “The generous will be blessed, for they share their food with the poor.” The Hebrew literally speaks of one who has a “good eye.” 

Jesus continues: “But if your eye is bad, your whole body will be in darkness.” We are not talking about diminished eyesight, but to a way of seeing the world that is distorted. An unhealthy eye can be clouded by greed, envy, prejudice, resentment, lust, pride, or materialism. Such a person may physically see clearly but spiritually perceive very little.

Our eyes are not merely windows through which we see the world; they are also windows through which our values enter our lives..

If the light in you is darkness, how great will the darkness be.” Jesus is warning against self-deception. The greatest danger is not knowing that one is in darkness, believing one’s darkness is actually light. We justify selfishness, rationalize dishonesty, or allow resentment to become “common sense.” Spiritual blindness often begins with small compromises.

These days we live in an age in which our eyes are constantly occupied with social media, advertising, movies, videos, streaming services, all with endless scrolling. Jesus invites us to ask not only, “What am I looking at?” but also, “What is shaping the way I see.”  If we constantly consume anger, outrage, envy, fear, or consumerism, those things begin to color our vision of the world. Conversely, if we regularly contemplate Christ in prayer, read Scripture, notice beauty, practice gratitude, and look upon others with compassion, our vision becomes clearer.  The question is not simply what enters our eyes but what kind of eyes we are developing.

Back in the day photographers spoke about “developing” film in a darkroom. What emerged on the photograph depended on what the camera had been focused on. In much the same way, our souls gradually develop according to what we habitually look at and dwell upon.

  • If we spend our lives looking for reasons to criticize, we become critical people.
  • If we look for reasons to be grateful, we become grateful people.
  • If we look for opportunities to serve, we become servants.
  • If we look upon others with the eyes of Christ, our own hearts begin to resemble his.

For ultimately, Christian discipleship is not just about seeing the world differently. It is about learning to see the world and every person in it with the eyes of Christ.

What kind of eyes will you ask God to give you?


Image credit: Sermon on the Mount (1877) by Carl Heinrich Bloch, Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Castle, Public Domain

What is asked of us

This coming weekend is the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time.  In previous posts we have been exploring the human reaction of fear in the context of the divine mission. Jesus has given them assurances for their time in the mission, reason to not be afraid. Now He provides eternal assurances: 32 Everyone who acknowledges me before others I will acknowledge before my heavenly Father.33 But whoever denies me before others, I will deny before my heavenly Father.”  

There is the old expression, “fish or cut bait.” One has to choose to move forward and take action (fish) or simply be back on shore “cutting bait.” So too, the question of priorities – who to fear – is asking a radical loyalty and fidelity to Jesus.

The previous mention of judgment before God gives added urgency to the choice. You can play for the short-term benefit and garner human approval or the long play of maintaining a prior loyalty to Jesus in the face of human opposition. The issue is not merely obedience to Jesus’ teaching, but the explicit “acknowledgement” of him as Lord before a hostile world. The demand is for faithful witness to Jesus even when it means suffering in Jesus’ name.

It is not without basis that one suggests that Jesus’ verdict will be on a reciprocal basis: acknowledgement or denial depending on whether they have acknowledged or denied him. In this it is a matter of final judgment. But it is also a “long play.” Consider the story of Peter and his denials of Jesus (26:69–75). He denied Jesus under the pressure of public opinion, but Peter’s subsequent rehabilitation suggests that the stark verdict of this saying allows for a temporary lapse under pressure.


Image credit: Image credit: The Sacrament of Ordination (Christ Presenting the Keys to Saint Peter), c. 1636-40, by Nicholas Poussin, Public Domain

Yet Trust in God

This coming weekend is the 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time.  In previous posts we have been exploring Jesus’ admonitions to not be afraid during the course of the evangelizing mission. In this post, Jesus begins to offer reasons and assurances to support the admonitions: 29 Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge. 

The Greek text literally translates as “without your Father.” Most translations include “knowledge,” “consent,” “will,” or “care” as the English seems to demand a clarification from the expression. But depending on the view of the reader it simply offers up more questions of divine sovereignty and providence: “does God simply know about the death of the birds (and therefore also of his people), or does he allow it, or does it happen because he has decided on it, or is the point that even in their death they are not outside his loving concern?” (France, 404).

This section does not try to sketch a misleading picture of a God. Sparrows fall to earth and disciples of Jesus are slain, and Jesus never says that it hardly matters. “What these sayings assert is that God is indeed God, that he is above success and failure, help and isolation, weal and woe, holding them in hands that Jesus says are the hands of the Father.” (Schweizter, as found in France, 404)

Where these verses begin with the repeated message not to fear, this verse reminds the reader that fear in general and fear of God (v.28) is balanced by trust in God as one’s heavenly Father. The God who can destroy in Gehenna is also the One who cares for the smallest of creatures. The sparrows, which can be purchased for a pittance, are cared for by God (v.31) while alive, but even their death is within the Creator’s care. How much more true is it of the children of a loving Father.

30 Even all the hairs of your head are counted. 31So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. 

Some things are impossible to count: the stars in the heavens, the grains of sand on the shore, and the hairs on your head (baldness aside!) The impossibility of counting the hairs of the head is proverbial (Ps 40:12; 69:4), but even the impossible is not impossible to God who made them. The Creator’s intimate knowledge of those he has made is expressed movingly in other imagery in Ps 139:1–18. Equally proverbial is the saying “not a hair of his head will fall to the ground” to express a person’s total security (1 Sam 14:45; 2 Sam 14:11; 1 Kgs 1:52; cf Dan 3:27, Luke 21:18; Acts 27:34.22) The Father who knows the number of each disciple’s hairs will make sure none of them are lost.

As we learned in v.29, the small sparrow matters to the Creator, and so (for the third time) the disciples are told not to be afraid. All of God’s creatures are important to Him, none more so than humanity.


Image credit: Image credit: The Sacrament of Ordination (Christ Presenting the Keys to Saint Peter), c. 1636-40, by Nicholas Poussin, Public Domain

Marine Corp Museum

The National Museum of the Marine Corps is an amazing history museum and a tribute to the U.S. Marines Corps. It is located on a 135-acre site adjacent to Marine Corps Base Quantico, Virginia and right off Interstate I-95. Its exhibits cover the history of the Marine Corp from its inception November 10, 1775, at Tun Tavern in Philadelphia to it modern 21st century deployments. The exhibits include artifacts, movies, and other features that animate and amplify the presentation. Most, if not all, of the docents are retired U.S. Marines and are steeped in the history of the Corps.

In the World War II Hall one segment is dedicated to the landings at Iwo Jima and the iconic flag raising on February 23, 1945 atop Mt. Suribachi. The first flag was raised about 10:30 am by a patrol from the 28th Marines who tied a small flag to a piece of iron pipe and planted it. The sight of this first flag was roundly cheered by the Marines fighting on the island and the fleet on the ships offshore.

Shortly after, the commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Chandler Johnson, realized the small flag was obscured from many parts of the island and decided a larger flag was needed for maximum visibility. A 96-by-56-inch flag was brought up the mountain to replace the original one. It was this second flag-raising that Associated Press photographer Joe Rosenthal captured in his Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph. Today, both historic flags are preserved at the National Museum of the Marine Corp. The second flag, which flew for several months, is wind torn and stained by the island’s volcanic ash, and is always on display. The first Iwo Jima flag is brought out of storage and displayed annually from mid-February through late March to align with the historical timeline of the Battle of Iwo Jima, which lasted from February 19 to March 26, 1945.

There is a whole story about the second flag raising which you can read here. Each time I have visited the museum – which is only 5 minutes from the friary – the docents well explain the history. However, the last visit was different.

Across the passage from the flag display is a memorial wall that contains an “Eagle, Globe & Anchor” pin for each Marine who died on Iwo Jima, a Navy emblem for the sailors who perished in the Iwo Jima operation, and a single emblem for the Coast Guard sailor who died. If you simply turn around from the “flag corner” you miss something very special. But if you move ~15 feet away and turn around, you will see this:

It is an image of Mt. Suribachi with landing craft headed toward shore for the landing.

So, visit the museum, enjoy the docents and take a moment to see this spectacular memorial and in so donig, honor the 6,821 U.S. service members who were killed in action or died of their wounds.