Hikikomori

He will cover you with his feathers and under his wings you will find refuge;”             Psalm 91:4a

Hikikomori

Ichiro Takahashi* has not gone to school, held a job, met a stranger or left his house for over three years. He is one of a growing segment of modern day hermits known in Japan as “hikikomori.” This unusual phenomenon was first identified by Dr. Tamaki Saito in the 1990s when a number of parents whose children had dropped out of school and had gradually withdrawn from the world, sought his professional help. Observing this pattern, Dr. Saito coined the term “hikikomori” (引きこもり) to describe these individuals, which means literally, “pulling inward.”

Recent surveys of the Japanese population estimate that over half a million people can be classified as hikikomori, with the vast majority of them male and their average age is 31. The Health, Labor and Welfare Ministry now defines hikikomori as an individual who has remained isolated at home for at least six consecutive months without going to school or work and rarely interacts with people outside of their immediate family. Sociologists and psychologists point to a number of contributing factors that lead people to this withdrawn lifestyle. For some, it is the pressure to perform in school; for others, the demand to conform to various societal expectations. Overprotective parenting, particularly by the mother, often compounds the problem and serves to facilitate such behavior. An academic or social failure may be the initial trigger that causes many hikikomori to stray from conventional social circles. They then find it difficult to return to the path of normal life interactions. Many of these self-imposed isolationists may suffer from anxiety, depression, internet addiction or exhibit OCD tendencies that further complicate efforts to assist them.

Concerned about this growing trend, the Japanese government is taking measures to identify the scope of the problem and provide effective solutions. However, reversing such a widespread and deeply complicated sociological shift is proving to be no easy matter. With a steadily declining population, and fewer and fewer able bodies available for the work force, Japan desperately needs young men like Ichiro Takahashi to reengage with life and become contributing members of society. Research also reveals that there are countless more individuals who are not identified as true hikikomori, but are barely coping with routine social demands and are thus described as “functional” hikikomori.

The hikikomori phenomenon is now extending beyond Japan to other countries and is manifesting itself in an array of behavioral patterns rooted in a variety of coping mechanisms. In many ways, the hikikomori represent the extreme end of a social spectrum where we all reside, but in varying increments. All of us are looking for security and safety in some form in a world where the rules are constantly changing and we feel like victims to things beyond our control. Most of us press on in life, despite these threats that can potentially unsettle us, but our conformity to normalcy doesn’t eradicate our longing for sanctuary in the midst of pain and chaos. Therefore, it is essential to recall that God does offer refuge to anyone who turns to Him, like the beautiful analogy where a mother hen shelters her chicks under her wings. While our natural response to the difficulties in life may be to “pull inward” like the hikikomori, we are invited to lean into God. There is no safer place.

*Fictitious name

Karaoke

“But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy.”  Psalm 5:11a

Karaoke

The distinguished members of the local Japanese Rotary Club had just finished their sumptuous meal which would shortly be followed by a mild case of indigestion. The source of their discomfort that evening was not what they ate, but was actually on stage holding a microphone doing a poor Elvis impersonation. The culprit was me, and that was my introduction to karaoke. As the token foreign guest for the occasion, I was obliged to “honor” the assembled members with a song. In a state of sheer terror, I chose to sing “I Can’t Help Falling in Love with You” by the King of Rock himself, since it was the only song in English on the provided playlist. As an impromptu romantic gesture, I also dedicated the song to my lovely wife, who, understandably, was desperately looking for a place to hide!

Karaoke (カラオケ) is now a world-wide phenomenon, and the correct pronunciation is not “keh-ree-oh-kee,” as it is widely used in the West, but is instead, “kah-rah-oh-keh.” Karaoke is actually a blend of two words — kara (meaning “empty”) and oke (which is an abbreviation for “orchestra”). Taken together, karaoke means literally “empty orchestra,” or music that is missing the lead melody and vocals. That melody is provided by an amateur vocalist who sings along with a microphone to the recorded instrumental music following the lyrics provided on a video screen.

Daisuke Inoue, a Japanese musician, is generally credited with inventing karaoke in 1971 when he developed the equipment that helped launch its huge popularity. As a result, venues advertising “karaoke boxes” are now quite common throughout Japan. These are basically soundproofed private rooms rented by the hour that come equipped with karaoke machines, comfortable lounge furniture and refreshments available to order.

For many Japanese, karaoke is a great means to relief stress and enjoy relatively inexpensive fun with friends. We witnessed the unusual power of karaoke years later while doing relief work. We had gathered a number of people displaced by the huge tsunami that struck portions of Japan and facilitated an event centered on karaoke. Not wanting to destroy the ambiance of another public gathering with my vocal skills, I gladly refrained from joining the many performers. Instead, my wife and I enjoyed our front row seats to a magical evening of observing those who had lost so much, coming together as a community for a few moments of frivolity and much needed healing.

That event was a vivid reminder that we are designed by our Creator to sing. Music offers a unique opportunity to express deep feelings and thoughts that, in turn, can bring joy and healing to the participant. Heaven is described as a place where music abounds, but the focal point there is on God Himself as everyone offers up praise to Him. While our participation in such heavenly choirs still awaits us, we are encouraged to recall the greatness, mercies and deeds of God and express them in song while we linger here on earth. Instruments and skilled musicians can certainly help facilitate such singing, much like a karaoke machine, but the joy such music brings comes not through our expertise, but from a thankful heart. The Bible calls this worship and this is the kind of singing that brings delight to God (John 4:21-24).

God Spoke

“In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son…”  Hebrews 1:1-2a

Emperor Hirohito

On Aug. 15, 1945 a “god” spoke. When Emperor Hirohito of Japan directly addressed his subjects for the very first time, life came to a temporary standstill around the world. Hirohito’s announcement of Japan’s unconditional surrender not only ended a war and brought peace, it ended the myth that the emperor of Japan was divine. He spoke and the world changed.

Because of this historical event, much changed in Japan as well. A new constitution was adopted and war was renounced. Democratic ideas took root in Japan and the emperor was reduced to a figurehead.  Japanese industries flourished and a new middle class rapidly emerged, resulting in a booming economy. The phrase “Made in Japan” stamped on manufactured goods was no longer derided as symbol of cheapness or inferiority, but esteemed as a mark of quality and success. Expensive vacations, quality education, designer clothes and the latest electronic gadgets could be purchased by the masses and it seemed the lone threat to a peaceful, prosperous society was the legendary Godzilla!

Certainly much changed after the emperor spoke, but in some regards nothing changed. The gods of war had only been replaced by the gods of materialism. At the same time, the traditional gods of Japan were still venerated through worship at Shinto god shelves or Buddhist altars in homes throughout the country. Japanese still made periodic pilgrimages to the local shrines or temples for various life events and relied on good luck charms for success and protection. An occasional church could be found in obscure corners of Japan, but temples and shrines remained the symbol of the country and retain a strong grip on Japanese hearts. Everything has changed and yet nothing has changed.

However, according to the Book of Genesis, everything changed when the God of the Universe spoke and the world as we know it came into being. The sun, moon, stars, oceans, dry land, vegetation, life and mankind itself were created by the mere voice and directive of God. But God didn’t stop there. He continued to speak to the hearts of men, as the author of Hebrews explains, calling them to repentance and into a relationship with Himself. This God who speaks ultimately provided eternal reconciliation to mankind, not through superior weapons of war and powerful armies, but through the death of His Son. This ultimate act of love and sacrifice brought eternal change to the world. Through the cross, God offered peace, not just between men, but more importantly, between God and man. The Living God has spoken, and hopefully, people in Japan and around the world will listen.

Traffic Mirrors

“’For I know the plans I have for you. ‘declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”                        Jeremiah 29:11

Curved Mirror

The urban sprawl of Tokyo has grown slowly over the centuries on top of an ancient network of roads, hilly terrain and even encompasses over a hundred river and canal arteries. Many of Tokyo’s streets were originally little more than footpaths and presently bear more resemblance to a wide sidewalk or an alley rather than a conventional thoroughfare. These minor roads snake through residential areas and many of them are reduced to a single lane, allowing passage for only one car at a time. On top of this, they are generally fraught with numerous curves, severely limiting vision of what lies ahead. This makes navigation quite challenging and even dangerous at times as drivers can’t anticipate oncoming cars, bicyclists and pedestrians.

Because of these difficult conditions, Japanese traffic engineers have developed and implemented an ingenious, yet simple device to help facilitate safety. It is called a “kābu mirā “(カーブミラー), which is basically a large convex (curved) mirror mounted at the top of a pole. These special mirrors enable drivers to literally see around the blind corner or sharp bends in the road to determine if it is safe to proceed. We relied on these mirrors daily when bicycling or driving to the office from our home and I’m sure they prevented countless accidents for us and many others.

Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of such mirrors to help us navigate the inevitable unknowns of life. There are no kābu mirā that reveal the coming of major health problems, employment setbacks, relationship breakdowns, financial challenges or natural disasters such as the recent COVID-19 pandemic. As a result, our lives often seem to be unpredictable, chaotic and without purpose as we feel victimized by one crisis after another.

But this is not what the Bible teaches. The God who created life is depicted time and time again as the same God who knows, sustains and directs our lives and the affairs of this world (Psalm 139:1-18). God reassures His own people of this truth while they were living in exile in a foreign land as a result of their disobedience. “’For I know the plans I have for you. ‘declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”  This verse is not a promise that all their problems will immediately disappear, but rather, an offering of hope in the midst of despair. That hope is not placed in the possibility of coveted changed circumstances, but instead, in the very person of God. A God who loves us. A God who will do what is best for us. A God who reigns above the forces of evil and calamities that sometimes seem to dominate this world.

God has a plan for the nations and He has a plan for us. That plan is good. But saints of old were only provided glimpses and hints of how those plans would unfold. Like us, they could not see beyond the curve in the road, so they just continued to drive forward in faith. Fears of turmoil, dire consequences and impending economic collapse currently dominate the news cycles and social media, but as people of faith, our well-being and future are not dependent on the affairs of this world. Therefore, we would do well to emulate the Psalmist and pray in this way: “Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” (Psalm 139:23-24) If God is visible in your kābu mirā, that is all you need.

Unseen Danger

“For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world,”                                      Ephesians 6:12a (NLT)

radiation monitor

A shroud of silence hung eerily over deserted streets, homes, businesses, schoolyards and other public places that once bustled with activity. Outside of a few lonely security guards wearing protective clothing, there were no normal signs of life. No people, no pets, no stirring. Wherever we looked, nature appeared to be taking over each vacant town as greenery and wildlife seemed to be flourishing unchecked by human interference. It was as if all human life had been squeezed out of the area by an invisible, deadly force. Temporary gates now barred entrances to every street and driveway.

Entering the vicinity, we passed massive dumps filled with radioactive waste and radiation monitors posted along the road flashed cryptic numbers warning us of unseen dangers. We were driving through the Fukushima radiation exclusion zone that had once been the thriving home of 150,000 inhabitants. They had been suddenly forced to flee following the Great East Japan Earthquake of March 2011 and the resultant tsunami that compromised the local nuclear plants.

The radiation exclusion zone was initially off limits to everyone, but several years later, it was now possible to drive through portions of the formerly forbidden region. With the passing of additional time, residents were eventually allowed to return to designated areas that were declared safe for human habitation. As part of a massive decontamination effort, a literal army of government workers had laboriously scrubbed down the more effected areas of those previously deserted towns and even removed thousands of tons of radioactive topsoil and vegetation. The nuclear reactors were also decommissioned and together, the resultant cleanup attempts had served to lower some of the radiation markers. However, despite these large scale endeavors, the majority of the local residents were understandably hesitant to return to their homes and businesses. To lure them back, the government had rebuilt or reopened schools, shopping areas, sports centers, hospitals, housing complexes and offered additional financial incentives. But the scars on both the land and in people’s hearts still stubbornly remained; such wounds will likely take decades to fully heal.

Now, around the world and a couple of years later, silent city streets, daily news postings of COVID-19 related deaths and accompanying fears have an uncanny similarity to that unique experience in Fukushima. Interestingly enough, on that day when we drove through those modern Japanese ghost towns, my thoughts were drawn to other unseen dangers besides the flashing numbers on the radiation monitors. Since we live in a physical world, it is natural to become preoccupied with matters of physical safety. However, the Apostle Paul warned the Ephesian Christians (Ephesians 6:12) that ever present dangers of a different nature were potentially far more lethal. These dangers are the radioactive seeds of pride, selfishness, anger, apathy, strife, slander, lust and greed that are sown unseen by the Evil One himself, silently destroying healthy lives and communities. This form of pandemic can be far more destructive than any physical terror we might have to face in the present or in days to come. Fortunately, God has graciously provided His Word, His Spirit and His people to serve as warning monitors to assist us as we travel through life facing seen and unseen perils. Our safety and well-being are, thankfully, in His hands, but we must give heed to the warnings posted for our protection.

Shinto Blessings

“From the Lord comes deliverance. May your blessing be on your people.”  Psalm 3:8

shinto blessing2

While sitting in the office of the local Shinto priest, my gaze fixed upon a placard on the wall which advertised (in Japanese) set charges for services rendered:

  • ¥10,000 for a car blessing
  • ¥5,000 for a school entrance exam blessing
  • ¥10,000 for a baby blessing
  • ¥15,000 for a new home blessing
  • ¥10,000 for a marriage blessing

The whole concept stunned me on many levels and several questions came to mind as I chatted with my gracious host in a very unfamiliar setting. “How can mere mortal men place themselves in the position of dispensing blessings on behalf of the gods?” was something I asked myself. I did my best to politely nibble around the edges of this concept as I conversed with the Shinto priest. He explained, according to the Shinto religion, that nearly all objects, including both animate and inanimate, possess a spiritual essence known as kami (神). These kami are everywhere, but they are not regarded as omnipotent, omniscient, or even immortal. The term “Shinto” (神道) means literally “way of the kami” and they reportedly number over eight million. These spirits are duly venerated across Japan at various public shrines and private god shelves. It is believed by many adherents that kami have the power to dispense blessing on their devotees through rituals, good luck charms and designated intermediaries such as the priests.

As I sat in the office of the local priest, other questions continued to fill my mind such as: “How can one charge money for a blessing?” From my perspective, such a practice seemed to reduce religion to a mere business transaction. This thought led naturally to another related question, which was, “Why would people actually participate in such obvious duplicity?” Perhaps the explanation to this conundrum resides in the standard practice of Shinto religious ceremonial procedures, where devotees have a sense that they cannot approach the kami with a request without some form of ritual purification to remedy their unclean state. This rite of purification is called harae (祓) and it usually begins with a symbolic washing using water near the shrine entrance. The next phase in absolution is conveniently performed by the priest (for a fee!), who rhythmically waves a large paper shaker called an ōnusa (also referred to as a haraegushi) over the object or person to be purified and blessed. Only after these procedures are performed can one approach the kami and hope to have their request granted.

Lying at the heart of the many intricate rituals of Shintoism is the basic human desire to be blessed by something or someone greater than one’s self. We want a healthy baby, success on a test, protection from infectious diseases, safety on the road, a good paying job, and a happy marriage, but such objectives often elude us because they lie beyond our control. Therefore, we are tempted to turn to a higher power to obtain them. Fortunately for us, there is a Higher Power who graciously dispenses such blessings on His people (Psalm 3:8) despite our unclean condition. We are beckoned to approach this God to request such favors, not because of our worthiness or the intercession of others, but because of the forgiveness provided through the cross by His Only Son. No fee is charged; God has paid it all. A few years later, this same priest reached the same conclusion and turned to Jesus for eternal absolution.

Counting Bowls

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” Psalm 90:12

wanko soba

Iwate Prefecture has many cultural distinctives and I happened to witness one first hand while eating my lunch and waiting to board a bullet train bound for Tokyo. I silently watched as a waitress in the restaurant hovered over one particular customer who was rapidly slamming down bowls of buckwheat soba noodles in front of him as fast as he could consume them. This bizarre scene continued for a period of time with the bowls stacking up until the man eventually halted his eating frenzy by placing a lid on his final bowl as an obvious indication of surrender.

I later learned that this unique custom is called “wanko soba” where wanko means “bowl” and soba is the Japanese word for buckwheat noodles. At a recent eating competition, the winner consumed 383 bowls of noodles in ten minutes. Apparently many people who visit Iwate are eager to experience the wanko soba challenge and even leave with a certificate verifying how many bowls they ate as a souvenir of their unique experience. While the whole scene was rather entertaining, I was not tempted to participate, but rather, quietly ate my own lunch of noodles at an unhurried pace before proceeding on my journey without indigestion.

No one is quite sure of the origin of this unusual custom, although several theories abound. Probably one of the most common is that of a powerful lord whom locals were suddenly asked to entertain when he passed through their territory. Embarrassed that their local cuisine was not up to their special guest’s usual standards, they served the nobleman just a small portion of their common fare of noodles in addition to other standard dishes. To their surprise, he demanded more noodles so they kept providing additional servings in small bowls until he was finally satisfied.

We don’t know if this particular account is historically accurate, but at least it is an entertaining explanation of why the locals count bowls of consumed noodles. Of course, it is human nature to keep track of things by counting them, but it is important to remember that God has a different perspective, and therefore a different way of counting or evaluating things in certain circumstances. For example, we are told that with God a day is like a thousand years and a thousand years is like a day (II Pet. 3:8). He is also the Good Shepherd who zealously searches for the one lost sheep (Luke 15:4) while our focus would more likely be on the remaining ninety-nine. God identifies trillions of stars by name and unerringly knows the number of hairs on our head and the grains of sand on every seashore. Yet, not even a sparrow falling to the ground escapes His notice (Matt. 10:29). God can amazingly see the vast whole and the intricate details of the most seemingly insignificant matter all in one glance without the constraints of time and space.

It is critical to bear such truths in mind when newscasters announce the latest numbers of COVID-19 cases. At the same time, we anxiously track the economic plunge of our hard-earned investments while worriedly taking note of our dwindling supply of goods needed for daily life. We are by nature prone to panic and anxiety about matters beyond our control, but God’s peace and provision in the midst of such extreme circumstances comes as we learn to lean into Him. We certainly need to count, but we would be wise to do so with a heavenly perspective. Like Moses, we should pray: “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12) Rather than counting bowls, we are called to count each day for eternity and trust the God who knows the very hairs on our head and loves each of us as the one lost sheep.

Too Close for Comfort

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”               John 13:35

crowded train

Desperate for a distraction from my troublesome circumstances, and partially out of curiosity, I began to count under my breath. “One, two, three, four… eleven.” When I finished, I discovered that I was fairly close to my original estimate, but I was still off by two people. There were actually eleven people touching me in the jam-packed train, including the poor woman whose face was planted in my right armpit. Welcome to the Tokyo rush hour on severely overcrowded trains!

I chastised myself for not planning better as I usually managed to avoid this unpleasant press of people. Fortunately, I don’t commute by train to work, so I generally dodge such circumstances that many have to endure on a daily basis. But on this particular day, I had arranged to meet someone for an early appointment which required me to enter the unwelcome fray of rush hour madness. However, at the more crowded stations in Tokyo, help is available to assist desperate travelers like myself reach their destination on time. These special white gloved assistants are called “oshiya,” (押し屋) which means roughly “professional pusher.” Oshiya are employed part time during peak commuting hours to push people into train cars and ensure that nothing gets caught in the doors, thus enabling the train to depart on time.

The original oshiya were hired to work at the notoriously busy Shinjuku Station and were initially called “ryokaku seiri gakari” (旅客整理係), which meant “passenger arrangement staff.” A lot is certainly being arranged by these dedicated laborers as you can witness for yourself through the following link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E7kor5nHtZQ. My most unforgettable train experience occurred when we were traveling through Tokyo as a family on a crowded train and I hoisted my youngest child above my head with outstretched arms to protect him. The train car suddenly became so packed with people that I was soon trapped in that awkward position, unable to lower my arms. However, my son didn’t seem to mind his lofty perch as he had a great birds eye view of the chaos below while I strained to hold him up for what seemed like an eternity until we finally reached our stop.

While we may not enjoy such close proximity with people when riding on a train, the Word of God teaches us that living in community with one another is actually an essential element in our spiritual growth. The New Testament repeatedly exhorts the people of God to practice the various “one another” commands that promote successful communal life. In so doing, we honor God, who calls us to abandon our natural inclination towards selfishness and beckons us to live together in unity. This is no small task.

Among the many “one another” commands are:                                                               Forgive one another                 Serve one another                                                                 Accept one another                   Comfort one another                                                                Pray for one another                Be kind to one another                                                             Bear one another’s burdens   Encourage one another                                                           Love one another

Like passengers on a crowded train, many of these injunctions seem a little too close for comfort as they demand actions and attitudes of us that run counter to our deeply ingrained sense of self preservation. But as Jesus pointed out in His final exhortation to His disciples, the implementation of these commands is what sets us apart from the world and its modus operandi (John 13:35). Due to the current COVID-19 pandemic, we are rightly advised to temporarily practice social distancing to preserve physical health. But on the other hand, distancing ourselves from others long term invites other potentially deadly consequences. Only love for one another can bring genuine healing to a sick world.

Neighborhood Music

“For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.”       II Corinthians 5:1

5pm chime2 Throughout Japan, usually at 5 pm, a standard melody is played over loudspeakers placed strategically within the local communities. Known affectionately as the 五時のチャイムor “5 pm Chime,” it is officially part of the Municipal Disaster Management Radio Communication Network (it is quite a mouthful in Japanese as well).

This network of speakers is part of a nationwide system designed to warn residents in the event of an emergency due to a natural disaster or even the launch of missiles from North Korea. These warnings almost became routine to us while working in a disaster zone where we experienced repeated aftershocks and tsunami warnings following the Great East Japan Earthquake of 2011. In addition to emergency announcements, many communities utilize this system to notify residents of local events or to report the presence of suspicious persons and even wildlife. It was quite common for us to receive loudspeaker warnings of local bear sightings when we lived in a more rural area.

Some residents regard these daily announcements as an annoyance, particularly if your house is located within close proximity of one of the speakers and your neighborhood adds a 6 am “wake up song” to its repertoire. The 5 pm Chime song that is played most frequently is an instrumental version of “Yuyaku Koyake,” roughly translated as “Sunset,” and is a famous Japanese children’s folk song with the lyrics dating back to 1919. (Antonin Dvorak actually composed the song as part of his Symphony No. 9 and when words were added, it was given the title “Going Home.”) You can go here to listen to it as we would experience on a daily basis:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OFWZ5-bd7nQ. Some communities play alternative songs, including well-known western tunes such as “Edelweiss,” “Auld Lang Syne” and “Moon River.”

The stated purpose of the 5 pm chime is to ensure that the broadcast system is working correctly, but it also serves to remind children that playtime is over and that they should return home with the setting sun. However, for people like us and for many Japanese as well, this melancholic melody that was once a part of our daily routine prompts feelings of nostalgia for days gone by full of friends and related activities.

It is actually quite normal to long for places, people and for circumstances that no longer exist when faced with unwelcome challenges and an uncertain future. We are naturally inclined to seek permanence and peace that somehow eludes us in the present, so we mistakenly convince ourselves that we possessed such things in the past. But God has created us for something else that is beyond our past and present experiences. Our permanent home awaits us in eternity. So the temporary joys of our present, as well as our past life, are only a dim shadow of things to come. The 5 pm chime is a reminder that we are just presently camping. We have yet to occupy our eternal home in heaven.

My Hometown

“My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest.”      Isaiah 32:18

Furusto

Our “choir” for that day featured no gifted singers, but what it lacked in ability was more than compensated for by the heartfelt participation of the predominantly older voices gathered in one of the many temporary housing areas scattered along the northeast coast of Japan. We were serving coffee, tea and homemade cookies to those who had been recently displaced by the tsunami following the Great East Japan Earthquake. A team of volunteers then led everyone in singing the famous Japanese folk song “Furusato,” (故郷) translated “My Hometown.” As my wife and I listened to the well-known words to the song, we were emotionally unable to add our voices to those who had lost so much.

I chased rabbits in those mountains
I fished in that stream
I still dream now and then about those days as a child
How I long for and miss my hometown

How are my father and mother?
Are my old friends okay?
Whenever it is rainy and windy
I recall my happy childhood in my hometown

Some day when I've done what I set out to do,
I will return to what used to be my home
The mountains are green there in my hometown

Described as a song that reflects the heart of Japan, Furusato* is traditionally sung as a wistful contemplation of bygone days with the slight hint of hope that those happier times will someday be recovered. But the words on this occasion seemed empty as they were being mouthed by people who had lost their homes, loved ones, jobs and even their way of life within the span of a few minutes on March 11, 2011. The mountains and streams from their childhood memories still remained, but there would be no returning to the furusato they enthusiastically sang about.

That single moment, among the many we experienced doing relief work, captured for us the uniqueness of the Japanese and their amazing, resilient response to unmitigated, personal disaster. All that remained of many towns and neighborhoods along that coast were vast fields of empty foundations that eerily resembled ancient archeological ruins. Those who remained continued to press on, clinging to the memories of their furusato with little hope of livelihood, and many were still struggling to pay off loans on houses that no longer existed.

Although the song “Furusato” is known by all Japanese, very few are aware that the tune and lyrics were actually written by Christians. As such, the composers used the metaphor of furusato to portray the people of God as sojourners on earth waiting for their eternal, heavenly home. This theme comes out clearly in the last verse where it says “Someday when I’ve done what I set out to do, I will return to what used to be my home.” It is good to keep this worthier objective in mind as we seek to point the way to our eternal furusato to others, while standing shoulder to shoulder with those who have lost their earthly furusato.

*You can listen to the song Furusato through the following link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gcmcXrCihrA