“Eat nothing made with yeast. Wherever you live, you must eat unleavened bread.” Exodus 12:20
After a few months in Japan, I was starving for some familiar American junk food. McDonald’s (pronounced “Makudonarudo”) was already fairly common at that time, but my friends and I were particularly hungry for pizza. When someone informed us that there was a Shakey’s Pizza located downtown that offered an all-you-can-eat buffet for only ¥500, we immediately organized an expedition to satisfy our pent-up cravings. Upon arrival, we strategically located ourselves at a table closest to the serving counter so we could be the first to pounce on the fresh pizzas as they were brought out. A couple of minutes later, when a pizza was pulled out of the oven and sliced up for the waiting customers, we sprang into action. To our dismay, the main topping on this particular pizza was corn, so we reluctantly returned to our table to wait for a better offering. Shortly afterwards, we leapt into action when another pizza was served, but this one was covered with octopus tentacles so again, we took a pass. The next one looked like a cheese pizza which we hungrily scooped up, but one bite revealed the “cheese” was actually mayonnaise! We were eventually rewarded with some pizzas that looked and tasted more familiar, but that day served as a reminder that common foods back home may be mixed with some uncommon ingredients in Japan.
We really weren’t in a position to complain as Americans back home were guilty of similar culinary infractions upon Japanese food. For example, when sushi was first introduced in the West, it suffered all kinds of abuse by innovative chefs and inexperienced customers. On occasion, I enjoyed observing the horrified response of my Japanese friends when I informed them that some Americans liked to put ketchup on their sushi before eating it. Perhaps this was a petty form of revenge for what the Japanese had done to my beloved pizza. Thankfully, after a few years of culinary experimentation on both sides of the ocean, recognizable forms of both pizza and sushi are now readily available for traditional diners like myself.
Before partaking in the First Passover (Exodus 12), God instructed the Israelites to prepare bread, but it was not to include the usual ingredient of yeast. The purpose of this curious omission was to drive home the powerful point that they were to be a people set aside for God, living consecrated lives in line with His purposes. Centuries later, the New Testament picks up on this theme using the concept of yeast synonymously for sin, because it can spread into our lives affecting everything it touches (Galatians 5:9). This is why the Apostle John calls for us to exercise discretion in what we crave in this world while we continue to live in it (I John 2:15-17). Our fondness for particular foods is certainly understandable and often culturally driven, but our appetite for things or activities that are diametrically opposed to the will of God can lead us astray and set us on a path of destruction. Mixed ingredients can be acceptable when it comes to culinary matters, but in the spiritual realm, it can give us a bad case of eternal indigestion.

Christmas was drawing near and as newcomers to our neighborhood, we thought it would be a nice gesture to take a gift of homemade Christmas cookies to each of our neighbors. We should have known better. Within hours of dispensing our holiday goodies, our doorbell started ringing. It was payback time. Through our unsolicited gifts, we had unintentionally obligated our neighbors to correspond in kind. Therefore, several of them responded to our meager gift by reciprocating with something of equal value. In Japan, no one wants to be put in the awkward position of indebtedness to someone else.
Japanese has a reputation for being a very difficult language for native English speakers to master, but it actually incorporates a considerable number of English words in its vocabulary. Unfortunately, many of these words are often unrecognizable. Called
Soon after our initial arrival in Japan, we were a little bewildered by some things we observed when we joined a Japanese family who had kindly invited us over for a meal. Before we even sat down to eat, the husband proceeded to demean his wife’s efforts in cooking and house cleaning. Unlike the typical American domicile, we didn’t notice any family photos capturing activities of the children or anything commemorating their individual achievements. Little mention was actually made of the children outside of our hosts’ minimal responses to our polite inquiries. We also thought it odd when they referred to their son as a “baka musuko” (stupid son). We went home that evening rather puzzled by our experience, but later learned that it is considered socially taboo to praise one’s own family.
Long before the term “selfie” carved out a unique niche in our lexicons, the Japanese used an alternative word that eventually became a part of our personal vocabulary and history. It is called “kinen shashin” (記念写真) and it is roughly translated as “commemorative photograph.” Whenever a group assembles for a particular occasion, someone inevitably calls for a kinen shashin to be taken to commemorate the event. If you browse through our personal photo albums (back in the day when we collected physical photographs), you will discover quite a few of these kinen shashin scattered among other pictures portraying family and friends in various locations and activities.


