Reinstatement

No matter how long I am in this country, and how much I think I have this culture, and these people understood, I continue to find myself blundering about, like a man in the dark, like a person who thinks they are winning at cards, only to discover that they misunderstood the rules and are actually in last place.

Last February I made plans to spend my spring break with one of my host families, in Yokohama. Right before the trip, Japan was hit with a 9.0 earthquake, tsunami, and nuclear meltdown. My family advised me against going to Tokyo because of the instability of the nuclear situation in Fukushima, and Tokyo’s proximity to the disaster. I told the Otsuki that I would not be able to go. I knew that Japanese people don’t like it when plans are changed, but my American way of thinking assured me that natural disasters trumped cultural rules about sticking to the original plans.

After I canceled on my host family, I was asked to go to the disaster area with CRASH Japan. I worked in the office in Saitama (just north of Tokyo) for two weeks, and made a supply run to Ishinomaki, Miyagi Prefecture. I figured that because I was already near Tokyo, I might as well try to see my host family. I messaged them asking if I could come. They said yes, but when I arrived, I was greeted with an incredibly cold reception, and scolded “you should really think about how other people feel!”

I spent the next two days trying to put together the pieces to figure out what I had done wrong, and how to fix it. During the next month I tried to win myself back into the good graces of the family by apologizing profusely and sending cards and presents (which is very appropriate in a reciprocity culture such as this). During this period, my host grandmother, Kazuko, passed away from stomach cancer.

In Japan there is a saying, “You are born Shinto, married Christian, and buried Buddhist.” Syncretism is a way of life. Where Western cognition would say either/or, Japanese cognition would say both/and. Being a Christian in the presence of the death of a loved one is an incredibly difficult situation in Japan, regardless of if you are a Japanese national or foreigner. There is no traditional category for exclusion devotion to one set of beliefs, so the Christian who refuses to partake in ancestor worship or Buddhist rights in seen as cold, rude, disrespectful, and uncaring.

I was invited to spend this past weekend with the Otsuki family, directly after Obon (a Buddhist week long celebration when the spirits of the deceased family are thought to return to the home). It was my first time to visit since grandma passed, and I was unsure of where I stood with the family. I had a feeling I was going to be put in some very compromising situations, amidst my own grief.

Michelle vs. Incense: Round One. I walked into the house, flowers and gifts in hand (as is appropriate when you visit any Japanese home), and was greeted with a long hug. I had intended the flowers for the dining room table or living room, but my host mother graciously received them from me, took me by the hand, and headed for the Buddhist altar that had been erected in the tatami room, complete with a large picture of grandma. My host father’s voice carried from the other room, “Michelle, go burn grandma some incense.” My heart started to pound a bit, I loved my grandmother dearly, and loved the family dearly, but was not about to compromise my faith… how was I graciously going to duck out of this one? Luckily for me, dinner was waiting on the table, and Naoko set the flowers down on the alter, and said, “let’s go eat.” Round one: cleared.

The dinner table overflowed with amazing food, drink, and stories from the past four months we had been apart. Everyone was happy to be together. My adorable 92 year old host grandpa wouldn’t stop doting on me, telling me how beautiful I looked, how happy he was that I came, and about all the presents he had made and bought for me. He asked me if I would stay in Japan for the rest of his life, to which I enthusiastically answered, “yes!” and he threw his hands into the air and cried “bonsai!” Things seemed to be just like normal.

Michelle vs. Incense: Round Two. Somehow I ended up in front of the altar again, with my host mother. Naoko lit and incense and placed it on the altar, and asked me to do the same. I told her I was very sorry, but I couldn’t, because I was a Christian. She replied by saying, “It’s ok, go ahead, Buddhism isn’t strict…” As I sat there, unmoving, looking at grandma’s picture, we both started sharing stories of grandma and crying a bit. Then I remembered that we had left water boiling on the stove… Round Two: Cleared.

That night, they took me out to an incredible Korean BBQ restaurant for dinner (I’ve pretty sure my meal was well over $70 US). Half way through the dinner, Naoko reached into her purse and pulled out a beautiful pearl bracelet, with a heart clasp, and handed it to me. The bracelet had been a gift from my host father Kousuke’s mother, and like the handmade yukata that my deceased grandmother had made for Naoko that was now in my care, Naoko wanted me to have this bracelet as well. As I stared at the beauty of my first string of real pearls, I felt a bit like the prodigal son, or Peter on the beach with Jesus, being reinstated into the family. It was clear that whatever horrible blunders I had made over the past months were forgiven, and I was family again.

Michelle vs. Incense: Round Three. It was in light of all of this, that I was faced with the biggest challenge. The next afternoon, I was sitting in the living room talking with grandpa, who loves whiskey and horse races just like my late grandpa Dave, when Naoko came in to announce that her older sister and niece would be coming over shortly to burn incense. “AGGGHHHHHH!!!!! How am I going to get out of this one?” I thought. Soon enough, the relatives arrived, and everyone kneeled on the living room floor to bow, faces to the ground, while exchanging traditional greetings (this very rarely takes place in modern family settings, attesting to the adherence to tradition alive in my host family). After I humbly introduced myself, everyone headed for the altar upstairs… I lingered at the foot of the stairs, not sure what to do. Staying downstairs alone wasn’t a good option in a group-oriented culture, but neither was refusing to burn incense in everyone’s presence. After taking my foot on and off of the first stair multiple times, I went back to the living room, fell to my knees and spent the rest of the time praying for the Otsuki family. Grandpa came down stairs first, and started chatting with me like normal, as everyone slipped into the room one by one as natural as ever, joining in the conversation. Round three: cleared.

I stand in a long line of Christians who have refused to deny Christ, or worship other gods, beginning with the early church, continuing on to today, and including a great number of Japanese Christians that shed their blood for the faith in the 1600s. When commanded to deny their faith, or perish, they boldly declared, “death first!” My friend sent me this text just before the incident with the relatives, “’Stand fast in the faith, and love one another, all of you, and be not offended at my sufferings.’ These were the last words of Perpetua to her pagan family before being martyred for not burning incense to Caesar. ” Although the consequences of my actions would only mean broken relationships, not any kind of physical punishment, my heart also resounded with the cry of those who have gone before me, “DEATH FIRST! I will not deny my Savior!”

This experience, as mellow as it was compared to what my Christian brothers and sisters are going through around the world, has left me with a lot to contemplate, mostly about my own relationship with God. When faced with blatant idolatry, my heart can respond “DEATH FIRST!” But this “DEATH FIRST!” mentality seems to be missing from my handling of other areas of sin in my life. Will I talk about someone behind their back? My reaction should be “DEATH FIRST!” Will I withhold money that could be helping someone in need? Again, my reaction should be “DEATH FIRST!” Will I fail to trust God to provide for my heart, and try to take matters into my own hands? “NO, DEATH FIRST!” But instead of the appropriate reaction, I find complacency in many areas of my life. Colossians 3:5 spells it out clearly, “Put to death, therefore, whatever belongs to your earthly nature: sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed, which is IDOLATRY.” Any sin, even if it looks like selfishness, as opposed to burning incense to foreign gods, is in its very nature idolatry. Jesus, thank you for your faithfulness to me this weekend. Jesus, teach my heart to cry “DEATH FIRST!” in every area of my life that is out of alignment with your call to absolute righteousness.