No More Dark Outside

I think one of the important things I do in Tokyo is helping out missionary families. Babysitting wild boys, washing dishes, or cooking a meal for my allergic-to-everything teammates can be tiring, and perhaps doesn’t seem like the most glorious or rewarding way to spend my time. But I believe in the work God is doing through them, and I believe attempting to be a good Christian influence in these kids’ lives is a worthy ministry to strive for. And sometimes… I am amazed by how they minister to me:

As I was washing up after dinner, Coen (an almost-4-year-old MK whose family I lived with my first 9 months in Japan), stomped over and demanded, “I want to go Jesus’ house!”  Lately he’s been asking to go to my house, or Ayako’s house whenever he sees us, I think as a coping mechanism to deal with the new-baby-brother blues. So I wasn’t too surprised and teased, “Well, Jesus’ house... if you mean heaven, you have to die before you go there. I don’t think it’s your turn to die quiet yet”. “Then, I want to die!” he declares as the furrow in his brow deepens with anger. I realize it might be time for a chat and pause from the mountain of dishes. As I gently asked some questions, trying to figure out what’s going on in this little guy’s head, he finally admitted, “Jesus’ house no more dark outside”.  I had to agree that did sound very nice. Maybe Coen’s thought process was simply “dark outside” means bedtime, and he didn’t want to go to bed. But there is such beauty and truth, a deep desire Coen expressed in those words better than I could say myself. I long for no more dark outside. I long for the time when all the scary things we don’t like are no more. I long for the sin and confusion and weakness in my heart and mind to be gone forever. I long for the loneliness and spiritual darkness in this world to be vanquished by the bright Light of Christ. I long for the darkness of dear friends’ unbelief to be washed in that same wonderful Light.

As I was saying goodnight and goodbye, Coen asked why I couldn’t sleep there, on the futon. “Do you not like our house anymore?” he gazed up from my lap with big, sad eyes. I tried to let him down gently: I do like your house. But there are too many people in this house! So I live in a different house so we all have enough room. Coen’s eyes lit up with revelation and I couldn’t wait to hear what crazy idea was about to come out of his mouth. And there it came: “We can all go Jesus’ house! In Jesus’ house, there be SO much room!” That’s right, Coen. Jesus is SO big, and his house is SO big, and with Him, one day, we can all stay together. No more goodnights. No more goodbyes. We will live together with our Lord who is SO big, with no more dark outside.

喜びの歌声

Below is my attempt at translating (with lots and lots of help from a dictionary) the new song we're learning in Gospel Choir. My grammar is probably all wrong, but I think I get the gist:

You keep an eye on little, weak me

I thank You

While I shed tears you encouraged me

I praise You

 

I met you and am changed

Now I don't walk in darkness.

Please illuminate my path,

You are the light that shines on me

 

Singing with joyful voice, the Lord's love is full

The Kingdom of God is in our midst!

 

 



I usually attempt to translate the songs we sing in Japanese, partly because it helps me memorize the Japanese text...but also because I want to know what I'm proclaiming! And I'm so thankful I did: simple and true, this song is encouragement I need this week.

God, the God filled to overflowing with love, is here. The "I Am" God...IS.
That is all. Simple and profound. He exists, right here, right now, and that is all little weak me needs. And of course, no Gospel song is complete without the final word: Hallelujah!

さしぶり！（Sashiburi!）

Loosely translated, "long time no see!" Sorry I've failed in the blogging world the past 2 months. So much has happened...so much learned, so much still to process. For now, here are a few things I never would've expected to see in Tokyo...and I absolutely love! 

kaki. (aka, persimmons. I had heard of something called a "persimmon", but had no clue what they were. These guys showed up in grocery stores this month, apparently only available in the fall, and they are fabulous.) 

mountains. As soon as the weather got cooler I took advantage of my day off to take a train to Takao-san, a little over an hour away on the edge of Tokyo. Quiet, greenery, little waterfalls, hardly any people...so refreshing.

What's a hike in the mountains without...the 7 dwarves???

waterfalls...

...pretty views...

...and oo, look! there's teeeny, tiiiiny Tokyo!

Day in the Park

 I just went to check out this museum (full of art/artifacts), but heard music coming from the grassy area right outside, went to check it out, and at first was pretty weirded out that the fairly large group- at least 100- was only men. Then I realized I recognized some of the words - 十字(cross)、えいえん (eternal)...and quickly gathered this was no ordinary concert in the park. These men were worshipping together; a ministry to the homeless; a church. Not at all what I expected to stumble across today!

A couple more snapshots from the park. Between seeing the church, the art in the museum (lots of Shinto/Buddhist roots), and strolling through several nearby shrines, my mind stayed busy meditating on: beauty, contrast, water, purity, high places, worship, light, prayer...

Goodbye Tsugumi

I'm reading a book called "Goodbye Tsugumi" (confession: mainly because the author's name is "Banana Yoshimoto", and that is just fantastic) and I'm really enjoying it. It keeps surprising me with these random paragraphs of thoughts from the main character that just scream "God!". For example:

"...the ocean had always been there, in the good times as well as the bad...all I had to do was turn my head and it would be there, always the same...what on earth did people in the city turn to when they felt the need to reckon with "balance"? Maybe the moon?...but then the moon was so small and far away, and something about it felt sort of lonely, and it didn't seem like it would really help..."

The need for something constant. And not just constant, but bigger - greater than ourselves. And not just greater, but near- close- here with us. I long for the world to see that that something is there. And just as the ocean is more helpful than the moon, our God is infinitely more satisfying than the ocean.

Where do you turn when you feel the "need to reckon with balance"?

Matsuri! (Festival!)

One of the portable shrines (omikoshi)
at the shrine the night before.

Our neighborhood had their big, only-happens-every-few-years festival (Sumiyoshi Shrine Grand Festival). They had to post-pone it last summer because of the 3-11 disaster, so it was a huge deal.

They've been building these huts around the community
all summer, so I've been super curious about what would
go in them! Notice the offerings of sake, symbols of the crane and
the crest with the 3 dots, and (blurry- sorry) dragon heads. 

The dragons started at the shrine, with this big repetitive
 ceremony of mock fighting/dancing, then paraded the town.
While really fun and interesting, it sinks in how much of a
religious festival this is: we saw lots of people displaying framed
pictures of deceased family members (whether to help their spirits
travel back, or get blessings for them from the gods, or something
entirely different? I'm not sure...)

The ones with green lighting were kinda creepy...




All of the portable shrines feature this bird on top.
Our guide at the history museum said the shrine gates
(called torii; tori=bird) were originally made for
the birds to perch on. Birds are definitely an important symbol; I think they're supposed to connect the world/spirit world...

Lots of excited people, lots of mikoshi of all sizes parading
the town, lots of water being splashed on the carriers!



I woke up at 7 Sunday to the sound of drums, and looked out
window to see one of the mikoshi "parading" the river around
our little island neighborhood.



and docking right below us!





Tasty festival food, colors, music, clothes, decorations, meanings behind them, learning more about what my neighbors believe and desire... I'm still processing it all. Such an interesting weekend!   

Reflections on Tea

Single flower in a vase. Single kanji painting to meditate on (waterfall). Tatami mats. Shoji (white paper) doors. Small sweet cake. Green tea. Every turn of the bowl, twist of the hand, placement of the cup...is careful and deliberate.

For weeks I have been processing the tea ceremony experience, trying to figure out how to put my thoughts into words. It is fascinating to look into Japanese history, culture, and values... and to compare with Communion. While it is obviously missing the deep and powerful meaning of the Lord's Supper (I'll just say "grace!" and leave it at that), it shares so many other themes: ceremony, beauty, humility, cleanliness. In the tea room, everyone is equal. The mind is quiet and meditative. The small cake and tea are not meant to fill you up like a meal. The relationships of everything from placement of tea cup to whisk, to the relationships of person to person are central.

Though there is a loneliness, an emptiness, in Japan, sometimes more than others, which some people sense more than others... Japan is so incredibly good. While there are certainly exceptions and I wouldn't make these as universal statements, the values and themes we saw in the tea ceremony can often be seen all around Tokyo: the cleanliness of the subways and streets, the conscientiousness of the people around you, the care for beauty seen everywhere from bento lunches to plants grown on every doorstep, the honor, the drive to excell, things are orderly and prompt, people are helpful and hospitable, my person and my belongings are far safer than they were in, say, Jackson, MS...

 I glimpse the beauty of Communion in the tea ceremony, and in the many good aspects of Japan I see a shadow of the Creator, like His signature on a masterpiece. While I fumble for words to express both the goodness and deep need in Japan, my mind keeps returning to this quote: "The Divine ‘goodness’ differs from ours, but it is not sheerly different: it differs from ours not as white from black but as a perfect circle from a child’s first attempt to draw a wheel. But when the child has learned to draw, it will know that the circle it then makes is what it was trying to make from the very beginning." ~C.S. Lewis (Problem of Pain)