I'm going to make an effort to get a blog up for every day this week for good communication purposes! Please pay no attention to the fact that it's already Thursday but I'm only now posting Sunday. ;-)
Every Sunday morning at 9:30, about six of us gather for English Bible Study. This week, the highlight was a student who has been coming regularly who had a large ah-ha moment. The Bible passage was about us being the light of the world, and he noticed at the end how it says "They will see your good works and praise your father in heaven". He talked to the group about how he normally is disappointed if people don't seem to notice when he does good things, but that he was understanding how God was supposed to get the credit anyway. It was a good moment. :-)
From English Bible Study, we go straight to Sunday worship. I spend the service either studying Japanese by looking up words I don't know or by writing prayers down in my notebook. This week it was a prayer writing sort of week. I was grateful for the time to rest and pray. This past Sunday was also 'sohji' day, or cleaning. Twice a year, we split into two groups. We younglings form a band to furiously slide pews all the way to the back of the sanctuary and then use a combination of sweepers, a vacuum cleaner, wet rags, and finally rags wet with wax to beat the floor into shiny submission.
Then, half an hours rest, and then all the pews go to the front of the sanctuary and the attack is repeated on the back half. Everyone helps out however they can. Aaron's daughter Cassidy went at it with a wax rag as well, and was gently corrected when her wax was making smudges against the grain of others' waxing rows. Yasui Sensei's (the pastor's) son, three year old Yuki, helped us in the second half by shouting out 'orai orai orai' (back up back up--used for cars, usually). We couldn't quite figure out where he was trying to get us to back up to, though. ;-)
I was almost successful in convincing Takaaki that he needed to dust every page of the Bible on the front alter individually, but in the end my merciful side got the better of me and I told him I was joking.
In between Japanese worship and our evening English worship, I head a few blocks over to a local Assemblies of God international congregation. Their afternoon worship is a diverse group of young people from America and various Asian countries. I love having a place to worship in English where I don't need to lead anything. The music is loud, and it's easy to be free there. This Sunday, there was a guest speaker from America who commanded us in the name of Jesus to not waste our time in Japan. Usually I have to slip out before the end of the message, but I would have had to step on various people to do that. Turns out I was really glad I was able to stay. They opened it up to free prayer time, which is always my favorite time to be in an Assemblies of God church. Everyone just starts praying...some in their own languages, some in tongues, some with tears. One girl nearly always begins to sing, and the melody lifts sweetly with the prayers. Hands are raised, people fall to their knees. I love being able to switch from speaking to listening for God to singing all without attracting attention.
I had to slip out in the middle of the prayer time, though, and race back to Hongo to prepare for the English worship I was about to be leading. I never thought I would be good at giving sermons, which was the big reason I never wanted to become a pastor. Now I find that I am not so bad at them, but the stress level is still out of this world. I don't really plan what to say...just a topic. Sometimes I talk for a long time, sometimes only a few minutes. This Sunday, still very much in a prayer mood, I only managed to talk for a few minutes and then announced I was just going to pray for them. Sometimes people understand me better when I'm talking to God than when I'm talking to them anyway...I might do it more often.
We gather after Evening worship to have tea downstairs and chat. By that point, I was worn out. I stayed for a little while, but then escaped for the evening.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
24/7 Prayer at Hongo
We were spread out around the office space at Hongo, stuffing things away in backpacks, the last of the pizza boxes having been thrown away and the dishes dried and shelved. Kat reminded us that we had planned on closing the week of prayer with prayer, and we all turned to Takaaki. We all bowed our heads, and Takaaki, not used to Christian customs, after a slight pause asked, "Do I start now?" Smiles and nods all around.
"Our Father in heaven..." He paused often as he recited the Lord's prayer, but said it with confidence. Only one small chuckle from him when he got to the last line. "The kingdom...For the kingdom, and the glory...and the power are Yours. Now and forever. Amen."
The past three weeks have been a crazy blur of excitement. Three weeks ago, I got up the guts to tell Yasui sensei that what I wanted more than anything was to run a 24/7 prayer room at Hongo during the 10 days of prep for Global Day of Prayer. Two weeks of emails flying off my fingertips, of conversations with every Christian I knew, of leaving my shyness in the gutter and running into Assemblies of God churches, Kristo Kyodan churches, random Christian offices. Of trying to commandeer every Christian and leaning towards Christian person I know into spending at least one hour with God this past week.
There were so many surprises during these three weeks.
-A friend calling me right when I was struggling about the thought of whether God was really calling me to do this and whether I could really do it or not to say, "Did you ever notice in the story of David and Goliath that God never speaks to David? That David just trusts God and goes out to fight?"
-Sitting down in the Assemblies of God church after having failed to connect with the pastor only to have the leader of a campus Christian group say, "Hey, would you come to our party on Monday night?" Me: "Umm...I'm not a college student...is that really okay?" Her: "Absolutely!" And proceeding to get connected with a great campus group where the leader really supported my idea and agreed to forward all my emails to the group.
-Walking into the Christian Center in Ochanomizu, getting shuffled to the Navigator's office, and then to the JEA office so that I walked into their meeting about the Global Day of Prayer that I didn't know they were having. They actually reported my information on a flier that went out to not a few churches in Tokyo. Yasui sensei was very surprised to see us listed on it! ;-)
-Going to the YMCA without really knowing what I would do there only to meet two of the four YMCA people I know right in the doorway because they arrived at the same time I did. One of them ran door to door and told his entire dorm.
It was the strangest thing once we actually started praying because my workload went way down. I would pause at different times of the day as I realized that someone was *always* praying in the little room my friends and I had put together. And it was amazing to think that it would flow without me doing a thing. Though there were still so many prayer hours open at the beginning that I was pretty nervous.
When I woke up Monday morning, so far as I knew, there were eight hours open on Monday and no one signed up to pray at night any night of the week (people had only signed up for Sunday night and Monday morning). There was also a huge gap Tuesday afternoon and other huge gaps later in the week.
Another huge surprise was arriving at Hongo Monday morning to look at the prayer schedule, only to find that a mysterious "Atago" had signed up to pray from 12am-4am every, single night.
We also got to meet Takaaki Monday morning. Takaaki is one of my non-Christian students who has been coming to church, English Bible study, Beginner Bible Class, and Christianity Today class for about six months now. I hadn't asked him to pray, but when he saw my schedule and all the empty blanks, he signed up to pray from 2-6 the very first night. I managed to negotiate him down to 2-5. And even after that, he saw there was an open slot from 8-9 the next morning and he signed up there as well. And later for two hours Tuesday afternoon. Then another hour on Friday and another two on Saturday.
My friend Jenae was praying from 7-8 that morning, and apparently he came right into the prayer room when it was his turn and informed her it was time for her to leave. I had been teasing Takaaki about his 2-5 prayer slot, telling him that sleeping did not count as praising God or praying. He told me very proudly when we came to take over for him at 9:00 that he had not fallen asleep.
There were still open prayer hours all day Monday, though. And I could not fill four of them. I sent out a desperate email, and by 10:00 on Monday morning I had the four hours I couldn't fill filled. Then I had some cancellations in the afternoon and had six open hours there. I was able to fill those and thought, "Well...Monday is usually my sabbath anyway..." but then I went to hang out at Carol's and Carol and Charity both signed up for two hours each. So, I thought I was at two hours of time in the prayer room. Then I got an email while I was in there praying that said, "I hope you saw on the schedule that I signed up to pray!" I only got one hour with God!!!
It became almost funny, because the same thing happened on Tuesday. There were three hours open, and I was hoping to get them, and then people signed up and left me with just one again.
Wednesday we had our first person who forgot to come. The woman before her had already been praying for two hours and was ready to go home. I was in the middle of English class. The Hongo receptionist grabbed me during our class break to explain the problem. But maybe three minutes later, she came and grabbed me again. "Harui just came! You have to go up to the prayer room and see him!"
Harui is one of my non-Christian Beginner Bible Class students. He had originally signed up to pray with a church member at six in the morning, but he had overslept and not come. He had just randomly stopped by to ask if he could pray right then. He was the only person the entire week to do that and it just so happened that it was right at the only time when a student forgot to show up. God is too good!!!
So, I went upstairs to check on Harui. He was already sitting on a cushion, the "Seek His Face" prayer guide clutched in his hands. He started to stand up when I came in and apologized for not showing up earlier. I assured him it was fine and pulled up a cushion beside him. He said, "I don't know how to pray." I gave him the best 1-2 minute set of prayer pointers I could, let him know he could talk to God however he wanted, and then demonstrated by praying for his prayer time. I asked him if he would be okay and he said, "I want to seek His face alone." I ran back down to my class.
Wednesday was the day filled almost completely by Hongo church members. It was good to see all of them. They all made a point of coming to tell me, "I prayed." Or to wave to me from the window on their way up the stairs. One woman who I have never talked to before this (in fact, I once heard Yasui sensei tell her to ask me how many people were at Bible study and she went and had Etsuko ask me instead) came down to talk to me and said, "It's hard to pray for an hour at home, but it was so easy here!" It was a short, but real conversation.
Wednesday night I had only a short period of time to actually get food before I was supposed to get food, but I never made it because a man named Toshiyuki had returned to the prayer room (after 10:00 at night, I might add) just to check the schedule and see if he could get in to pray again. He had come the very first night and come an hour early just to plan out what he would pray for that night. Then he had signed up to pray again. Now he was back for the third time, even without a slot that was his. He started telling me how much he had really liked praying the other day because the day's topic was about children, and he had so many things to pray because of his recent trip to Indonesia. He was now considering signing up for an open 5:00am slot just to get back in the prayer room. He did. :-) And then he sent me an email telling me how sorry he was not to get to pray Saturday afternoon too.
On Friday as we were leaving Coffee Hour, yet another of my non-Christian students came up to me and asked if she could spend an hour in the room. I reminded her, "This isn't an English school event. It's a Christian event. Do you want to pray?" She turned back sideways, almost as though protecting herself. "Can't I just sit quietly in the room?" she asked. I told her only if it was praying and offered to come and pray with her if she wanted some guidance. She told me that idea was scary, but somehow agreed anyway.
So, at 10:00 this morning I found myself going off to pray with a non-Christian. I wasn't sure how I would lead her, but we ended up following a prayer guide in the room. I tried to give her as much freedom to pray as possible. We spent some time reading a Psalm and discussed it a little bit. We spent some time listening for God. We spent some time singing. We spent some time praying about her needs. I asked her what she would ask God for if she could ask him for anything, and she went right from sounding as though she were explaining it to me to asking God for it. It was for her mother to be able to get hearing aids so her parents could have normal conversations again. She entered the room pretty scared and left it thanking me for the time and how much she had enjoyed it.
Rather ironically, I finally got my long period of time in the prayer room. I think it was God's special gift to me...I needed those three hours in the prayer room just to be there and realize, "Here it is...the end." I spent a lot of time pleading with God...the scariest thing about running 24/7 prayer for the week is that a lot of people will think it's extreme, when really it should be the norm in Tokyo right now. I have left the week with a longing to do it again. But it's not time yet. Now I have a better idea how to build relationships so that it will run smoother next time. It's time to do some more of that, and to rest, even if I don't want to.
We sat around boxes of pizza tonight. There was lots of laughter. The mysterious "Atago" who had been my guardian angel for filling prayer slots turned out to be a man who had been praying at Hongo at night every once in awhile for two and a half years now. He said, "I felt a difference as soon as I walked into Hongo Monday night. It was easier to connect to God and much easier to stay awake." One of the VYM girls also said, "Yeah...I got into the room and countries kept popping into my head to pray for."
Takaaki prayed us off, friends scattered, Atago said, "Mata upstairs!" Which is kind of like, "Until upstairs!" "We'll see each other upstairs praying again soon!" I cleared off the table outside the prayer room but I couldn't bring myself to take apart even one part of the room itself.
This week has been a magical week of doing what fulfills me the most. I love leading people into prayer. I love watching them fall in love with God in a way that isn't academic but is about finding Him in that secret place where our heart goes out dancing with His. This week has been a small taste of what I want to spend my life doing. And as the taste has still been pretty small, it's grown both my longing and my faith that it can happen.
"Our Father in heaven..." He paused often as he recited the Lord's prayer, but said it with confidence. Only one small chuckle from him when he got to the last line. "The kingdom...For the kingdom, and the glory...and the power are Yours. Now and forever. Amen."
The past three weeks have been a crazy blur of excitement. Three weeks ago, I got up the guts to tell Yasui sensei that what I wanted more than anything was to run a 24/7 prayer room at Hongo during the 10 days of prep for Global Day of Prayer. Two weeks of emails flying off my fingertips, of conversations with every Christian I knew, of leaving my shyness in the gutter and running into Assemblies of God churches, Kristo Kyodan churches, random Christian offices. Of trying to commandeer every Christian and leaning towards Christian person I know into spending at least one hour with God this past week.
There were so many surprises during these three weeks.
-A friend calling me right when I was struggling about the thought of whether God was really calling me to do this and whether I could really do it or not to say, "Did you ever notice in the story of David and Goliath that God never speaks to David? That David just trusts God and goes out to fight?"
-Sitting down in the Assemblies of God church after having failed to connect with the pastor only to have the leader of a campus Christian group say, "Hey, would you come to our party on Monday night?" Me: "Umm...I'm not a college student...is that really okay?" Her: "Absolutely!" And proceeding to get connected with a great campus group where the leader really supported my idea and agreed to forward all my emails to the group.
-Walking into the Christian Center in Ochanomizu, getting shuffled to the Navigator's office, and then to the JEA office so that I walked into their meeting about the Global Day of Prayer that I didn't know they were having. They actually reported my information on a flier that went out to not a few churches in Tokyo. Yasui sensei was very surprised to see us listed on it! ;-)
-Going to the YMCA without really knowing what I would do there only to meet two of the four YMCA people I know right in the doorway because they arrived at the same time I did. One of them ran door to door and told his entire dorm.
It was the strangest thing once we actually started praying because my workload went way down. I would pause at different times of the day as I realized that someone was *always* praying in the little room my friends and I had put together. And it was amazing to think that it would flow without me doing a thing. Though there were still so many prayer hours open at the beginning that I was pretty nervous.
When I woke up Monday morning, so far as I knew, there were eight hours open on Monday and no one signed up to pray at night any night of the week (people had only signed up for Sunday night and Monday morning). There was also a huge gap Tuesday afternoon and other huge gaps later in the week.
Another huge surprise was arriving at Hongo Monday morning to look at the prayer schedule, only to find that a mysterious "Atago" had signed up to pray from 12am-4am every, single night.
We also got to meet Takaaki Monday morning. Takaaki is one of my non-Christian students who has been coming to church, English Bible study, Beginner Bible Class, and Christianity Today class for about six months now. I hadn't asked him to pray, but when he saw my schedule and all the empty blanks, he signed up to pray from 2-6 the very first night. I managed to negotiate him down to 2-5. And even after that, he saw there was an open slot from 8-9 the next morning and he signed up there as well. And later for two hours Tuesday afternoon. Then another hour on Friday and another two on Saturday.
My friend Jenae was praying from 7-8 that morning, and apparently he came right into the prayer room when it was his turn and informed her it was time for her to leave. I had been teasing Takaaki about his 2-5 prayer slot, telling him that sleeping did not count as praising God or praying. He told me very proudly when we came to take over for him at 9:00 that he had not fallen asleep.
There were still open prayer hours all day Monday, though. And I could not fill four of them. I sent out a desperate email, and by 10:00 on Monday morning I had the four hours I couldn't fill filled. Then I had some cancellations in the afternoon and had six open hours there. I was able to fill those and thought, "Well...Monday is usually my sabbath anyway..." but then I went to hang out at Carol's and Carol and Charity both signed up for two hours each. So, I thought I was at two hours of time in the prayer room. Then I got an email while I was in there praying that said, "I hope you saw on the schedule that I signed up to pray!" I only got one hour with God!!!
It became almost funny, because the same thing happened on Tuesday. There were three hours open, and I was hoping to get them, and then people signed up and left me with just one again.
Wednesday we had our first person who forgot to come. The woman before her had already been praying for two hours and was ready to go home. I was in the middle of English class. The Hongo receptionist grabbed me during our class break to explain the problem. But maybe three minutes later, she came and grabbed me again. "Harui just came! You have to go up to the prayer room and see him!"
Harui is one of my non-Christian Beginner Bible Class students. He had originally signed up to pray with a church member at six in the morning, but he had overslept and not come. He had just randomly stopped by to ask if he could pray right then. He was the only person the entire week to do that and it just so happened that it was right at the only time when a student forgot to show up. God is too good!!!
So, I went upstairs to check on Harui. He was already sitting on a cushion, the "Seek His Face" prayer guide clutched in his hands. He started to stand up when I came in and apologized for not showing up earlier. I assured him it was fine and pulled up a cushion beside him. He said, "I don't know how to pray." I gave him the best 1-2 minute set of prayer pointers I could, let him know he could talk to God however he wanted, and then demonstrated by praying for his prayer time. I asked him if he would be okay and he said, "I want to seek His face alone." I ran back down to my class.
Wednesday was the day filled almost completely by Hongo church members. It was good to see all of them. They all made a point of coming to tell me, "I prayed." Or to wave to me from the window on their way up the stairs. One woman who I have never talked to before this (in fact, I once heard Yasui sensei tell her to ask me how many people were at Bible study and she went and had Etsuko ask me instead) came down to talk to me and said, "It's hard to pray for an hour at home, but it was so easy here!" It was a short, but real conversation.
Wednesday night I had only a short period of time to actually get food before I was supposed to get food, but I never made it because a man named Toshiyuki had returned to the prayer room (after 10:00 at night, I might add) just to check the schedule and see if he could get in to pray again. He had come the very first night and come an hour early just to plan out what he would pray for that night. Then he had signed up to pray again. Now he was back for the third time, even without a slot that was his. He started telling me how much he had really liked praying the other day because the day's topic was about children, and he had so many things to pray because of his recent trip to Indonesia. He was now considering signing up for an open 5:00am slot just to get back in the prayer room. He did. :-) And then he sent me an email telling me how sorry he was not to get to pray Saturday afternoon too.
On Friday as we were leaving Coffee Hour, yet another of my non-Christian students came up to me and asked if she could spend an hour in the room. I reminded her, "This isn't an English school event. It's a Christian event. Do you want to pray?" She turned back sideways, almost as though protecting herself. "Can't I just sit quietly in the room?" she asked. I told her only if it was praying and offered to come and pray with her if she wanted some guidance. She told me that idea was scary, but somehow agreed anyway.
So, at 10:00 this morning I found myself going off to pray with a non-Christian. I wasn't sure how I would lead her, but we ended up following a prayer guide in the room. I tried to give her as much freedom to pray as possible. We spent some time reading a Psalm and discussed it a little bit. We spent some time listening for God. We spent some time singing. We spent some time praying about her needs. I asked her what she would ask God for if she could ask him for anything, and she went right from sounding as though she were explaining it to me to asking God for it. It was for her mother to be able to get hearing aids so her parents could have normal conversations again. She entered the room pretty scared and left it thanking me for the time and how much she had enjoyed it.
Rather ironically, I finally got my long period of time in the prayer room. I think it was God's special gift to me...I needed those three hours in the prayer room just to be there and realize, "Here it is...the end." I spent a lot of time pleading with God...the scariest thing about running 24/7 prayer for the week is that a lot of people will think it's extreme, when really it should be the norm in Tokyo right now. I have left the week with a longing to do it again. But it's not time yet. Now I have a better idea how to build relationships so that it will run smoother next time. It's time to do some more of that, and to rest, even if I don't want to.
We sat around boxes of pizza tonight. There was lots of laughter. The mysterious "Atago" who had been my guardian angel for filling prayer slots turned out to be a man who had been praying at Hongo at night every once in awhile for two and a half years now. He said, "I felt a difference as soon as I walked into Hongo Monday night. It was easier to connect to God and much easier to stay awake." One of the VYM girls also said, "Yeah...I got into the room and countries kept popping into my head to pray for."
Takaaki prayed us off, friends scattered, Atago said, "Mata upstairs!" Which is kind of like, "Until upstairs!" "We'll see each other upstairs praying again soon!" I cleared off the table outside the prayer room but I couldn't bring myself to take apart even one part of the room itself.
This week has been a magical week of doing what fulfills me the most. I love leading people into prayer. I love watching them fall in love with God in a way that isn't academic but is about finding Him in that secret place where our heart goes out dancing with His. This week has been a small taste of what I want to spend my life doing. And as the taste has still been pretty small, it's grown both my longing and my faith that it can happen.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Late Night Religious Deep-ness
So...my Wednesday advanced class just beat all records at how late our Bible Study went overtime. The class is supposed to end at 9:10. Our previous record was 9:55, with one student continuing to ask questions privately until 10:15. Tonight we set a new record of 10:50.
Usually I do most of the talking. They toss questions at me and I try to explain them all away, with varying levels of success. It's the class where I feel like God takes over my talking most often, or at least the class where I end up spilling my entire heart about God, humanity, or my own place in the middle of all that without a second thought until all the words are already lying out there in a jumbled heap. It's only after they've been said that the touch of embarrassment can come in. That sense of, "Oops. That was the real me in unrestrained form. Is that a good idea in front of my students?"
Tonight, however, I managed to get them talking. I don't remember exactly how, but it had something to do with Buddhism. They started talking about praying for dead people, and how the prayer is connected to the spirit separating from the body. I asked where the power in the prayer came from, and I think we reached the following conclusions:
1) The prayer has no real power. The spirit separating from the body is just a natural process that will happen regardless of whether the dead are prayed for or not.
2) But prayer for the dead is still important. It shows a respect for the dead person, and that respect is deserved merely on the merit that the person is dead--kind of like respect for the completeness of their life.
3) The meaning behind this prayer is really irrelevant to the people in my class. But the action of folding their hands in memory of one who is died is important to them.
4) Even though most people in my class were arguing from a "Japanese" viewpoint, their idea of the afterlife ranges from unconsciousness (preserved in the memories of loved ones), person becoming a kind of God, or person going to Nirvana.
5) None of my students believes that Truth exists. Some make exceptions for science, some do not. It does not bother at least two of them to know about themselves that they view the world in the way that makes them feel the most comfortable.
Probably I have managed to misunderstand something in here...it was an interesting experience...several times I had to make them repeat things or explain them in a different way multiple, multiple times before I understood enough to go on.
But we finally reached this point of just raw honesty with each other. When they're sitting there like, "We can't believe in truth and we can't believe in God." And a couple of the class members said, "We wish we could believe in God." Which is the point that I start weeping inside. And I decided to dare asking a question that I had never asked in this direction before. I often talk to people about "What keeps you from believing in God?", but I asked them tonight, "What would it take for you to believe that God exists? What if God's existence and the existence of suffering are both true realities?"
I never quite got a straight answer out of them. It took a lot of times for me to repeat the question and try to help them understand it. But their answers were interesting when they did answer, one woman's especially. She talked about how she knew that believing in God would change everything...she is a doctor, and she said that the Truth was whatever the patient said it was, but that that would have to change if she believed in God. She's been thinking about the issue of when life begins and abortion recently and she said she knew she might have to deny some patients treatment if she had God to give her something absolute in her life. And I realized something as she was talking, which was that, even though she had said she wanted to believe in God, really she didn't. Not yet. She knew how difficult that switchover would be. I filed that thought away to pray for her later.
I don't know if this class has any idea how much I love them. But in my final outpouring of heart for them today I got ever so slightly teary eyed. Just enough to grab a tissue and try to dab at my eye at sneaky moments when I hoped they wouldn't notice to try to keep it from stinging and getting worse.
After we were done in class, I was at my desk cleaning up, and we must have been talking in English long enough that they forgot to switch back to Japanese while they were in the kitchen cleaning up the teapot and cups. So I get to overhear them saying, "Yeah...I realized today that I really don't understand Buddhism" and then, "Pamela was crying. I think we made her sad because we couldn't understand."
They actually filed out, the four of them who were left, and apologized for making me sad. I was speechless. Honestly, I hadn't felt so sad until they came out and said it like that. But how could I possibly explain? I finally said, "Japan often makes me a little sad. That's why I'm here. That's why I want to stay." Then they were rather speechless. But my wonderful lady doctor said, "But, Pamela, I really like hearing what you have to say."
I know God is reaching to them. I see it in their faces, in their questions, in what grabs their attention. Evangelism is child bearing. As such, it is painful work. I don't mean in terms of conflict. There is no conflict in this class. Just question asking and seeking and trying to understand. But I ache for them.
Usually I do most of the talking. They toss questions at me and I try to explain them all away, with varying levels of success. It's the class where I feel like God takes over my talking most often, or at least the class where I end up spilling my entire heart about God, humanity, or my own place in the middle of all that without a second thought until all the words are already lying out there in a jumbled heap. It's only after they've been said that the touch of embarrassment can come in. That sense of, "Oops. That was the real me in unrestrained form. Is that a good idea in front of my students?"
Tonight, however, I managed to get them talking. I don't remember exactly how, but it had something to do with Buddhism. They started talking about praying for dead people, and how the prayer is connected to the spirit separating from the body. I asked where the power in the prayer came from, and I think we reached the following conclusions:
1) The prayer has no real power. The spirit separating from the body is just a natural process that will happen regardless of whether the dead are prayed for or not.
2) But prayer for the dead is still important. It shows a respect for the dead person, and that respect is deserved merely on the merit that the person is dead--kind of like respect for the completeness of their life.
3) The meaning behind this prayer is really irrelevant to the people in my class. But the action of folding their hands in memory of one who is died is important to them.
4) Even though most people in my class were arguing from a "Japanese" viewpoint, their idea of the afterlife ranges from unconsciousness (preserved in the memories of loved ones), person becoming a kind of God, or person going to Nirvana.
5) None of my students believes that Truth exists. Some make exceptions for science, some do not. It does not bother at least two of them to know about themselves that they view the world in the way that makes them feel the most comfortable.
Probably I have managed to misunderstand something in here...it was an interesting experience...several times I had to make them repeat things or explain them in a different way multiple, multiple times before I understood enough to go on.
But we finally reached this point of just raw honesty with each other. When they're sitting there like, "We can't believe in truth and we can't believe in God." And a couple of the class members said, "We wish we could believe in God." Which is the point that I start weeping inside. And I decided to dare asking a question that I had never asked in this direction before. I often talk to people about "What keeps you from believing in God?", but I asked them tonight, "What would it take for you to believe that God exists? What if God's existence and the existence of suffering are both true realities?"
I never quite got a straight answer out of them. It took a lot of times for me to repeat the question and try to help them understand it. But their answers were interesting when they did answer, one woman's especially. She talked about how she knew that believing in God would change everything...she is a doctor, and she said that the Truth was whatever the patient said it was, but that that would have to change if she believed in God. She's been thinking about the issue of when life begins and abortion recently and she said she knew she might have to deny some patients treatment if she had God to give her something absolute in her life. And I realized something as she was talking, which was that, even though she had said she wanted to believe in God, really she didn't. Not yet. She knew how difficult that switchover would be. I filed that thought away to pray for her later.
I don't know if this class has any idea how much I love them. But in my final outpouring of heart for them today I got ever so slightly teary eyed. Just enough to grab a tissue and try to dab at my eye at sneaky moments when I hoped they wouldn't notice to try to keep it from stinging and getting worse.
After we were done in class, I was at my desk cleaning up, and we must have been talking in English long enough that they forgot to switch back to Japanese while they were in the kitchen cleaning up the teapot and cups. So I get to overhear them saying, "Yeah...I realized today that I really don't understand Buddhism" and then, "Pamela was crying. I think we made her sad because we couldn't understand."
They actually filed out, the four of them who were left, and apologized for making me sad. I was speechless. Honestly, I hadn't felt so sad until they came out and said it like that. But how could I possibly explain? I finally said, "Japan often makes me a little sad. That's why I'm here. That's why I want to stay." Then they were rather speechless. But my wonderful lady doctor said, "But, Pamela, I really like hearing what you have to say."
I know God is reaching to them. I see it in their faces, in their questions, in what grabs their attention. Evangelism is child bearing. As such, it is painful work. I don't mean in terms of conflict. There is no conflict in this class. Just question asking and seeking and trying to understand. But I ache for them.
Friday, April 4, 2008
A God who allows rants
A lot of my time in Japan has been spent fighting to pray. The past few months have been especially that way. They've been the kind of months where, whether alone or in groups, I sit down to talk to God and find myself wondering what I could possibly have to say to a God who knows everything, can do anything, etc.
It's odd sometimes how hard it is to be honest with myself. It seems like it would be more natural to be dishonest with other people and straight in my own thoughts, but somehow it has never worked that way for me. I will be innocently going along, really believing that everything is all right until a friend says, "You've been acting like something is bothering you." Which is usually news to me. Until about twenty minutes later when the friend has managed to drag some woe out of me that I didn't know existed.
God has done that for me a couple times now too.
I sometimes get stuck in the rut of "this is how I should approach God" and even begin to feel proud at how well I've fortified myself in trusting Him, entering His courts in praise and thanksgiving, did much more intercessing than "troubling" Him with my own problems...one could almost forget that I *have* problems.
Until God slows me down, steals my ability to pray, and we're left staring at each other, me as confused as when my friends have sat me down to say, "Something is obviously bothering you." It took me until this week to realize that I wasn't really on speaking terms with God. Oh, I knew I hadn't been talking to Him. But I'd kind of been blaming Him for that. It wasn't that I hadn't set the time aside, after all, I just hadn't really had any words for Him when I had. So the only possible explanation in my mind was that He was trying to teach me something. Which I suppose He usually is, but I usually don't figure it out until the lesson is over. If I think I've figured it out before that, there's a good chance I have no idea.
The first time He did it to me was at prayer retreat last August. Part of the retreat was to take a day apart with God. I'd been wandering around and finally "arrived" at a small clearing out in the trees. There was no one around for a *long* ways. And I felt God say, "You can shout here." To which I'm thinking, "Umm...great. But...er...I don't really feel like shouting about anything." Ten minutes later...it was a rant to end all rants.
It was the same way this week. That feeling of, "We are not going anywhere until you [Pamela] sit down and give Me your heart, even if it's hurt and angry right now." And I'm thinking, "Dude...there's no need to get angry at You. I trust You. I know it will be okay. Why do You want me to shout at You?" A theme of Japan has been God saying over and over again, "I want *everything* from you. Not just what you think is the good you have to offer. You are not allowed to choose what is good enough for Me. I want *everything*."
I think it has been about three days of ranting at God now. But something finally fell into place late this morning, and the ranting gave way to real, true, honest-to-goodness worship. The kind where each word of the song strikes my heart with how amazing this whole journey with God is and where each stroke of the guitar feels like a dance of joy. And today, as students were coming in and registering and I was sitting working on a class syllabus I found my thoughts drifting to various people to pray for. It has been *eons* (read: probably not more than several weeks) since that was true.
My ranting isn't done quite yet, but I found myself amazed right now...what kind of God really wants His people to rant at Him? Seriously?! Really...we have a God who doesn't wait for us to pretty ourselves up until we can come before Him, flawless and beautiful. He wants us to sprint up to Him, our clothes torn and dirty, our words foolish and our lips stammering. Somehow, I think we're more beautiful in His eyes that way.
It's odd sometimes how hard it is to be honest with myself. It seems like it would be more natural to be dishonest with other people and straight in my own thoughts, but somehow it has never worked that way for me. I will be innocently going along, really believing that everything is all right until a friend says, "You've been acting like something is bothering you." Which is usually news to me. Until about twenty minutes later when the friend has managed to drag some woe out of me that I didn't know existed.
God has done that for me a couple times now too.
I sometimes get stuck in the rut of "this is how I should approach God" and even begin to feel proud at how well I've fortified myself in trusting Him, entering His courts in praise and thanksgiving, did much more intercessing than "troubling" Him with my own problems...one could almost forget that I *have* problems.
Until God slows me down, steals my ability to pray, and we're left staring at each other, me as confused as when my friends have sat me down to say, "Something is obviously bothering you." It took me until this week to realize that I wasn't really on speaking terms with God. Oh, I knew I hadn't been talking to Him. But I'd kind of been blaming Him for that. It wasn't that I hadn't set the time aside, after all, I just hadn't really had any words for Him when I had. So the only possible explanation in my mind was that He was trying to teach me something. Which I suppose He usually is, but I usually don't figure it out until the lesson is over. If I think I've figured it out before that, there's a good chance I have no idea.
The first time He did it to me was at prayer retreat last August. Part of the retreat was to take a day apart with God. I'd been wandering around and finally "arrived" at a small clearing out in the trees. There was no one around for a *long* ways. And I felt God say, "You can shout here." To which I'm thinking, "Umm...great. But...er...I don't really feel like shouting about anything." Ten minutes later...it was a rant to end all rants.
It was the same way this week. That feeling of, "We are not going anywhere until you [Pamela] sit down and give Me your heart, even if it's hurt and angry right now." And I'm thinking, "Dude...there's no need to get angry at You. I trust You. I know it will be okay. Why do You want me to shout at You?" A theme of Japan has been God saying over and over again, "I want *everything* from you. Not just what you think is the good you have to offer. You are not allowed to choose what is good enough for Me. I want *everything*."
I think it has been about three days of ranting at God now. But something finally fell into place late this morning, and the ranting gave way to real, true, honest-to-goodness worship. The kind where each word of the song strikes my heart with how amazing this whole journey with God is and where each stroke of the guitar feels like a dance of joy. And today, as students were coming in and registering and I was sitting working on a class syllabus I found my thoughts drifting to various people to pray for. It has been *eons* (read: probably not more than several weeks) since that was true.
My ranting isn't done quite yet, but I found myself amazed right now...what kind of God really wants His people to rant at Him? Seriously?! Really...we have a God who doesn't wait for us to pretty ourselves up until we can come before Him, flawless and beautiful. He wants us to sprint up to Him, our clothes torn and dirty, our words foolish and our lips stammering. Somehow, I think we're more beautiful in His eyes that way.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Sakura season!
Right now in Tokyo the cherry trees are in full bloom. Just wanted to share the beauty with you! It is a custom in Japan during cherry blossom season to go to "hanami". In kanji, this word is written: 花見. The first character means "flower" and the second character means "look". Basically, this means you go and spread a tarp under a blooming tree and hang out enjoying it.
I went to hanami with some of my students last week. Whenever food is involved, my students do amazingly impressive things. I had kind of expected the food to come out all at once like a traditional American picnic. But food kept showing up out of bags throughout the entire meal. Homemade inari-zushi (rice wrapped in thin sweetened tofu), cooked carrots and lotus root with a sauce to go over the top, little dango (balls made from pounded rice) with a sweet glaze over them, etc.Tokyo usually feels really busy. It's easy to walk through a crowd. There's usually a rather slow lane of walkers, and then a stream of people in a hurry that one can jump into. But the blossoms put even Tokyo walkers into slow motion. I left to meet a friend at the train station this last weekend. My walk crosses some ponds, and the path is lined with cherry trees. Usually the walk takes me around 20 minutes, but I was eight minutes late because the whole path was filled with people looking up at flowers, ambling along slowly, enjoying food and friends as they went. Even though it made me late, it's lovely to see Tokyo slow down to enjoy beautiful things!
Monday, March 24, 2008
Starting Out Again!
Happy Easter! Easter omedetou!
Yesterday was a double or triple treat. It was Easter, 'nuff said (much dancing). It was also the first baptism I have gotten to see in Japan. It was a woman maybe in her late 20s. She's been attending Christian schools, with the exception of kindergarten, since she was in preschool. She's played the organ at Hongo for awhile.
She had her hair very neatly up back in a bun, and she knelt very seriously and calmly by the baptismal bowl. Yasui Sensei was kind to her. I don't think there was enough water in his hands even to drip and he wiped it across her head three times in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The enthusiast in me was slightly disappointed by the lack of water everywhere...after all, God doesn't just come and get our hair a little wet, He pours all over us and leaves our hair a mess and our skirts dripping wherever we go. It was so lovely to see, though.
Apparently at Hongo, it is a custom for the person being baptized to give their testimony. I was particularly excited for this part, and made one of my bilingual friends translate the whole thing. Adult decisions for baptism are always somewhat puzzling to me. There is often a quiet miracle behind them all. Some people can point to some dramatic, concrete moment when they knew God was real and that He loved them. But the woman baptized yesterday fits a theme I have heard from many of them...they have gradually come to believe, and finally knew it was time to be baptized.
Our spring break is wrapping up now, and starting today, we hit the streets! That's right, it's pamphlet time of the year again!
For the next three weeks, Aaron (the long term missionary who runs the English Center at Hongo) and I will be handing out pamphlets at train stations and university gates. We'll start registering students for the new school year, which begins April 8th, next week.
Please pray:
1) For us to have minds that are praising God and praying as we hand out pamphlets so that His light can shine through us the most brightly
2) For our pamphlets to find their way into the hands of those who are hungry for God or who are at a time in their life when "seeds" can be planted.
3) Pray for our ministry, that God would always be molding us into a ministry where He can send those who need Him and they will get what they need
Yesterday was a double or triple treat. It was Easter, 'nuff said (much dancing). It was also the first baptism I have gotten to see in Japan. It was a woman maybe in her late 20s. She's been attending Christian schools, with the exception of kindergarten, since she was in preschool. She's played the organ at Hongo for awhile.
She had her hair very neatly up back in a bun, and she knelt very seriously and calmly by the baptismal bowl. Yasui Sensei was kind to her. I don't think there was enough water in his hands even to drip and he wiped it across her head three times in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The enthusiast in me was slightly disappointed by the lack of water everywhere...after all, God doesn't just come and get our hair a little wet, He pours all over us and leaves our hair a mess and our skirts dripping wherever we go. It was so lovely to see, though.
Apparently at Hongo, it is a custom for the person being baptized to give their testimony. I was particularly excited for this part, and made one of my bilingual friends translate the whole thing. Adult decisions for baptism are always somewhat puzzling to me. There is often a quiet miracle behind them all. Some people can point to some dramatic, concrete moment when they knew God was real and that He loved them. But the woman baptized yesterday fits a theme I have heard from many of them...they have gradually come to believe, and finally knew it was time to be baptized.
Our spring break is wrapping up now, and starting today, we hit the streets! That's right, it's pamphlet time of the year again!
For the next three weeks, Aaron (the long term missionary who runs the English Center at Hongo) and I will be handing out pamphlets at train stations and university gates. We'll start registering students for the new school year, which begins April 8th, next week.
Please pray:
1) For us to have minds that are praising God and praying as we hand out pamphlets so that His light can shine through us the most brightly
2) For our pamphlets to find their way into the hands of those who are hungry for God or who are at a time in their life when "seeds" can be planted.
3) Pray for our ministry, that God would always be molding us into a ministry where He can send those who need Him and they will get what they need
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
An Afternoon at Kabuki
My parents have been visiting these past few weeks, which has given me lots of different opportunities to run around and do things I don't usually do. We went to a kabuki play this afternoon and evening. Kabuki is a kind of traditional Japanese theater. All of the actors are men, and the story lines are often complex and confusing--even to Japanese people. The point of Kabuki is less about the story and more about intricate costumes, sets, and beauty in general.
Nevertheless, I always find myself quite drawn into the story. What can I say? I enjoy confusing complexity.
The second act was Kyokanoko Musume Dojoji (The Maiden at Dojoji Temple). It opens with a line of monks who are lamenting that they will have to perform some very long rites that day because they are dedicating a new temple bell. But they are a little comforted by the fact that one of them has a bottle of sake they can pass around and another has an octopus they can eat while performing the laborious rites.
Then they are distracted by the arrival of a lovely woman. Bravely, one of the monks approaches her and inquires whether she is a local dancer or an innocent maiden. Learning that she is a dancer, the monks break temple rules and allow her inside to worship, but present her with a dancing hat, hoping that she will perform for them.
The next section of the play is her dance. A beautiful, slow sequence. Attendants occasionally get on stage, pull a few cords off "her" costume, and in one jerk are able to completely change it from one kimono to another underneath it.
In the final transformation, the woman uses magic to cause the new temple bell to fall, and we learn that she is truly a jealous serpent spirit who hates the bell and has come to destroy it. The bell comes down on top of her, and the monks must take action.
The monks suddenly become very pious. They pull our their best prayers, hoping to lift the bell, but it does not move. They confess all their sins and lament their worldliness, merry living, and how their actions have not prepared them for the afterlife. The bell stays firm. Then, they pull out their prayer beads for extra strength, but this also fails. They hear the approach of others, and the monks run away.
The new arrivals are a group of strong men. They use all their strength to pull on the rope to lift the bell, but they also fail. Finally, the bell shakes of its own accord and lifts. The demon serpent spirit is revealed and makes the strong men's weakness known.
At that moment, a lone warrior comes and confronts the serpent. He gives the serpent a choice, be gone immediately, or to end up turned to dust "under his feet". There is a brief fight, and the serpent gives up, acknowledging that it cannot win.
I am always interested to see ways that God reaches to different cultures, and Japan in particular. (I'm just a *little* particular to Japan ;-) ) And from that perspective, I found this play fascinating.
The monks and strong men are powerless against the demon. They need another to fight for them. I was especially fascinated by the expression "turn to dust under his feet" because of the image of Satan being placed under Christ's feet on the cross that is in the Bible. In Ephesians 1:18-23, for example, it talks about the power that we have as Christians and the connection to Christ's resurrection, in which "God placed all things under [Christ's] feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church", the part just before that is a little bit more specific about the "everything" that Christ has been given authority over, including "all rule and authority, power and dominion".
The priests of the Kabuki play and even the strong men could not put the serpent under their feet. Their confessions and piety were not enough. Their combined physical force was as nothing.
Today around the world, many are still fighting evil with their own goodness and their own strength. Christians certainly believe in goodness, and as people get a hunger for God, they will necessarily begin to clean up their lives. But there are a plethora of religions out there to help people to be good and strong. If that were all Christianity was, it would have little to add to the religious spectrum. But Jesus has always stood for sinners. Christianity is about a promise of redemption between us weak sinners and the God of All. Christianity is not about good people, but about a Good God who insanely and beautifully lays down as a sacrifice His own self. What kind of God sacrifices the beautiful to save the ugly? How awesome He is!
Being in Japan, I talk to a lot of people who have a positive image of Christians. They see us as being kind, good people. In a way, we have to get past that. Kind, good people run the world over. But there is only one Jesus. And every single one of us needs Him to put the evil within us under His feet.
Nevertheless, I always find myself quite drawn into the story. What can I say? I enjoy confusing complexity.
The second act was Kyokanoko Musume Dojoji (The Maiden at Dojoji Temple). It opens with a line of monks who are lamenting that they will have to perform some very long rites that day because they are dedicating a new temple bell. But they are a little comforted by the fact that one of them has a bottle of sake they can pass around and another has an octopus they can eat while performing the laborious rites.
Then they are distracted by the arrival of a lovely woman. Bravely, one of the monks approaches her and inquires whether she is a local dancer or an innocent maiden. Learning that she is a dancer, the monks break temple rules and allow her inside to worship, but present her with a dancing hat, hoping that she will perform for them.
The next section of the play is her dance. A beautiful, slow sequence. Attendants occasionally get on stage, pull a few cords off "her" costume, and in one jerk are able to completely change it from one kimono to another underneath it.
In the final transformation, the woman uses magic to cause the new temple bell to fall, and we learn that she is truly a jealous serpent spirit who hates the bell and has come to destroy it. The bell comes down on top of her, and the monks must take action.
The monks suddenly become very pious. They pull our their best prayers, hoping to lift the bell, but it does not move. They confess all their sins and lament their worldliness, merry living, and how their actions have not prepared them for the afterlife. The bell stays firm. Then, they pull out their prayer beads for extra strength, but this also fails. They hear the approach of others, and the monks run away.
The new arrivals are a group of strong men. They use all their strength to pull on the rope to lift the bell, but they also fail. Finally, the bell shakes of its own accord and lifts. The demon serpent spirit is revealed and makes the strong men's weakness known.
At that moment, a lone warrior comes and confronts the serpent. He gives the serpent a choice, be gone immediately, or to end up turned to dust "under his feet". There is a brief fight, and the serpent gives up, acknowledging that it cannot win.
I am always interested to see ways that God reaches to different cultures, and Japan in particular. (I'm just a *little* particular to Japan ;-) ) And from that perspective, I found this play fascinating.
The monks and strong men are powerless against the demon. They need another to fight for them. I was especially fascinated by the expression "turn to dust under his feet" because of the image of Satan being placed under Christ's feet on the cross that is in the Bible. In Ephesians 1:18-23, for example, it talks about the power that we have as Christians and the connection to Christ's resurrection, in which "God placed all things under [Christ's] feet and appointed him to be head over everything for the church", the part just before that is a little bit more specific about the "everything" that Christ has been given authority over, including "all rule and authority, power and dominion".
The priests of the Kabuki play and even the strong men could not put the serpent under their feet. Their confessions and piety were not enough. Their combined physical force was as nothing.
Today around the world, many are still fighting evil with their own goodness and their own strength. Christians certainly believe in goodness, and as people get a hunger for God, they will necessarily begin to clean up their lives. But there are a plethora of religions out there to help people to be good and strong. If that were all Christianity was, it would have little to add to the religious spectrum. But Jesus has always stood for sinners. Christianity is about a promise of redemption between us weak sinners and the God of All. Christianity is not about good people, but about a Good God who insanely and beautifully lays down as a sacrifice His own self. What kind of God sacrifices the beautiful to save the ugly? How awesome He is!
Being in Japan, I talk to a lot of people who have a positive image of Christians. They see us as being kind, good people. In a way, we have to get past that. Kind, good people run the world over. But there is only one Jesus. And every single one of us needs Him to put the evil within us under His feet.
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