Scary Phone Calls

“But if it is by the Spirit of God that I drive out demons, then the kingdom of God has come upon you.”

Matthew 12:28

Do you, or someone you know, experience difficulty in getting your child to take a nap, brush their teeth or clean their room? If so, Japan has the perfect parenting app just for these kinds of situations. It’s called “Oni Kara Denwa” (鬼から電話), or “Phone Call from a Demon/Ogre.” This highly unusual, and rather controversial, concept straddles the line between creepy psychological abuse and facetious fun. However, the clear and laudable intention of this unique parenting approach is to promote better behavior among disobedient children. Surprisingly, over ten million desperate Japanese parents have downloaded the somewhat questionable Oni Kara Denwa app in an attempt to raise socially responsible children.

Oni, often translated as ogres or demons,are usually depicted in Japanese folklore and modern stories as malevolent, fearsome creatures who dispense misfortune or act as agents of divine justice when unwittingly provoked. Over the centuries, well-meaning parents have routinely tapped into these semi-benign stories by subtly invoking the threat of demons to their uncooperative children with the goal of promoting better behavior from them. For example, if one’s child refuses to do their homework, eat their vegetables, throws a tantrum, or is caught in the act of lying, a tech-savvy parent can just download the app and choose an ogre who seems best suited for that particular problem. The phone then rings, is handed over to the child, and the oni will proceed with warnings and threats in an attempt to scare the child towards improved conduct. The variety of characters available for such an assignment may include a number of characters ranging from traditional ogres to witches, ghosts, zombies, aliens, wolfmen, scary ninjas and even a frightful old hag. The content and tone of the threat will vary according to the conscripted character and the nature of the misbehavior. The app also employs the partly humorous, yet frightful facial expressions of a famous comedian known as Kintaro, as well as several animated creatures whose images are equally unsettling.

The idea of employing fraudulent ogres to terrorize a child into better behavior seems to be an abhorrent and rather dubious parenting technique, particularly if one’s worldview includes the actual existence and activities of demons. Scriptures tell us that one of the identifying signs of the promised Messiah was that he would have unprecedented authority over both the physical and spiritual realms, enabling him to heal all manner of illnesses and cast out demons (Luke 7:18-23). Jesus himself testified that such an exhibition of power over evil was an important indicator of the imminence of God’s kingdom (Matthew 12:28). He further affirmed this truth through an analogy where he compared himself to one who “ties up the strong man,” in reference to Satan, in order to “plunder his house” (v.29). Possessing such knowledge, as children of God, we should not live in fear of darker entities and their evil intentions. Instead, we are repeatedly exhorted in the Scriptures to fear God, not because He is capricious and needs to be placated, but because He is worthy of our worship. Solomon arrived at the same conclusion noting: “Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the duty of all mankind.” (Ecclesiastes 12:13) Therefore, rather than utilizing an app based on terror, we should revere our holy, omnipotent and omniscient Heavenly Father who desires our well-being above all else. We can approach Him anytime, anywhere, even without an app.

Obon

“Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is my gospel.” II Timothy 2:8

The festive atmosphere associated with the local bon odori beckoned our young family to join in, but we held back, wondering if we should participate in this unfamiliar cultural activity. However, the sound of laughter and merry music were like a magnet pulling us in as we watched neighbors of all ages dancing in rhythm while wearing colorful, traditional attire. From previous research, we understood that the celebration historically centered on acknowledging the return of one’s dead ancestors. However, the majority of the participants were probably unaware of the festival’s origins. Over the years, obon had steadily evolved into a quasi-family reunion where people return to their ancestral homes to pay homage to their deceased ancestors and reconnect with family.

The exact etymology of the term bon (盆) remains unclear and the “o” is an honorific prefix that was added at some point. This annual celebration primarily traces its roots outside of Japan, as it includes elements of Buddhism and Daoism. Many scholars believe “bon” is actually a transliteration of an ancient Sanskrit word. Similar festivals in other cultures are commonly called “lantern festivals” and that same terminology is sometimes used in association with obon practices in Japan. The Japan version usually spans a three-day period in the middle of August, but the exact starting date differs slightly from region to region. Obon is generally regarded as a time when ancestral spirits visit their respective household altars and graves, which prompts relatives to make preparations to welcome them back. Such preparations will include the gathering of family members, cleaning family graves and stocking them with food and flowers. In addition, communities throughout Japan host obon dances, called bon odori to invite the spirits home. The participants in the dance typically wear a yukata, which is a light cotton kimono, and in addition to dancing, they enjoy simple carnival games and local foods served for the crowd.

At the outset of obon, small fires are often lit to guide the spirits home and at the conclusion of the three days another fire is used to send the spirits back. Some localities may sponsor a much larger communal fire for the same purpose while others customarily place floating lanterns in bodies of water to help the spirits return to their world. People who have lost a family member within the past year may give special attention to the annual obon preparations and take extra measures to attend.

Although few Japanese believe in the religious overtones of obon, many continue to dutifully follow the traditions handed down to them by their family and everyone enjoys the rare three-day break from work routines. Technically, obon is not a public holiday, but most businesses give their employees the time off, which in turn results in massive transportation issues with large numbers of people seeking to travel home at the same time.

While it is a good thing to acknowledge and express thankfulness for the lives of ancestors who contributed to our present existence, we must be careful in where we draw the lines in such activities. Well-intended celebrations and ceremonies centered on deceased loved ones can easily spill over into alternative forms of idolatry that the Scriptures clearly forbid. For example, attending a graveside ceremony can be an acceptable sign of respect and love, but the offering of food or incense to the dead crosses a line that morphs into an act of worship and betrays our devotion to the One True God. But there is one exception to this practice who we much clearly remember and honor. (II Timothy 2:8) Jesus Christ was truly raised from the dead. This is our gospel. His life and death are worth celebrating and sharing.

Honorifics

“So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith.” Galatians 3:26

Every society utilizes standardized language patterns and cultural behaviors to help identify an individual’s place within society and Japan is no exception to this rule. Visible in children’s playgrounds, educational institutions, corporate structures and family interactions, these social and language cues serve to govern life. More importantly, they help to facilitate community. In Japan, this common practice can be clearly seen in the use of honorifics embedded in daily communication. Generally known as keishō (敬称), certain suffixes or prefixes are routinely utilized when referring to or addressing others in conversation.

The suffix of “san” (さん), attached to a person’s name, is by far the most common honorific employed in every day speech. San is typically translated as “Mr., Mrs., Ms. or Miss” and is generally used as a title of respect between adult equals in both formal and informal contexts. It is also applied to senior family members such as fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles and grandparents as a sign of respect. A higher level of esteem is indicated through the suffix “sama” (様), which is applied to people of greater status within society, a group or an organization. This particular honorific is also customarily utilized in formal correspondence and standardly attached to the addressee’s name on an envelope.

In contrast to san and sama, the suffixes kun (君) and chan (ちゃん) are informally used for a generally younger demographic and tend to be more gender specific. For example, kun is often attached to the name of younger men or boys by an older speaker or someone within the same age group. Kun can also indicate a junior status within the workplace or an academic circle. Both males and females may refer to someone using the kun suffix if they feel an emotional or other attachment to the individual. Unlike the designation kun which is commonly applied to boys, chan is most frequently used for girls, small children, babies, female friends or for women who seem young in the eyes of the speaker. Among young people, chan can connotate a close relationship or a feeling of affinity. In addition, “o” and “go” are often used as honorific prefixes to nouns that indicate certain positions such as a customer or a doctor.

Titles such as senpai, kōhai and sensei are neither suffixes nor prefixes, but rather, honorific terms which are frequently used to indicate relationship. A senpai (先輩) is a senior colleague or classmate because of their age or experience and literally means “former born.” Opposite of a senpai is a kōhai (後輩), who is a junior in the relationship within an informal hierarchy commonly found in schools, clubs and businesses. Probably the most common honorific term is sensei (先生) which is not an age indicator but rather, highlights an individual’s level of expertise within their respective field, such as a doctor, an artist or a scholar. Sensei is usually translated as “teacher,” as some kind of teaching role is often involved.

The world in which we live sometimes seems to be overly preoccupied with separating people into categories that can often produce negative results such as prejudice, discrimination, injustice and intolerance. But the New Testament clearly teaches that all such prejudicial constructs and categories that typically divide us are abolished at the foot of the cross. It is not our skin color, gender, economic status or occupation that earns us any favor with God, but solely our faith in what He has done through His Son Jesus. Manmade efforts to create and foster community are no longer needed when we become children of God. (Galatians 3:26) Through the grace and work of God, everyone has a seat at the table.

Teachers

“Not only was the Teacher wise, but he also imparted knowledge to the people.” Ecclesiastes 12:9

Teacher

In 1984 a surprisingly popular film, The Karate Kid, hit the theaters with a unique storyline centered on a confused American teenager who was trained in karate by an older Japanese man using rather unconventional methods. While the movie was certainly entertaining, it had an additional impact of introducing the Japanese concept of “sensei” to American culture. In his role as a sensei, Mr. Miyagi passed on his knowledge of karate to his young apprentice, who in turn slowly grasped not only martial arts skills, but how a Japanese sensei is quite different from a normal teacher. In general terms, a sensei is used as a title of respect for someone who has accumulated extensive training and knowledge in a particular skill or art form and then passes on that expertise to a willing learner.

The literal translation of sensei (先生) is a “person born before another,” which gives way to the wider meaning of “one who comes before.” This broader application of the term implies a mutually understood relationship where one member is regarded as a superior and the other as an inferior. This disparity in status is not grounded in intrinsic worth, but rather, on the possession of certain skills, experiences and knowledge. When the word sensei is actively employed across various social, artistic, religious and financial constructs, it usually includes doctors, pastors, musicians, traditional craftsmen, politicians, martial arts instructors, experts in tea ceremonies and, of course, educators.

The opposite word for sensei is deshi, who is regarded as the student or apprentice in the instructional relationship. However, there are times when these relational or social lines are not clearly fixed but are contingent upon peculiar circumstances. For example, when we studied at our organization’s Japanese language school, we respectfully referred to our teachers as sensei. But if the teacher was a Christian and we attended the same church, he or she would dutifully acknowledge us in public as sensei because of our pastoral training and position. We were both sensei, but only within certain contexts. In the course of ministry, we sometimes pushed back against this somewhat artificial divide when applied to clergy and laity. We frequently encouraged church members to drop the honorary suffix of sensei when referring to us but due to deeply established patterns, many found such changes to be very difficult to implement. Perhaps The Karate Kid best captures these traditional nuances in a couple of widely used quotes by Mr. Miyagi who attempts to explain his sensei role to his new pupil in fractured English.

“No such thing as bad student, only bad teacher. Teacher say, student do.”

“We make sacred pact. I promise teach karate; you promise learn. I say, you do, no questions.”

Inherent within the concept of teacher in nearly every culture are the elements of instruction and authority, which are embedded in a mutually understood relationship. This important role can then be readily applied to God Himself who is depicted as a teacher by the patriarch Job in confronting the criticisms of his so-called friends (Job 36:22). Since God is the Creator and sustainer of this universe, it naturally follows that He is uniquely qualified to instruct us in how to successfully live within His perfectly established parameters. However, God also chooses to delegate this role to others who can instruct us in godliness based upon their understanding of His Word and their spiritual character cultivated in their personal walk with God. Among these recognized sensei in the Bible is the one who is aptly referred to as “the Teacher” in the Book of Ecclesiastes and commonly identified as King Solomon. (Ecclesiastes 1:1) Solomon certainly had authority as the King of Israel, but his deep understanding of the things of God and his willingness to pass that wisdom on to others set him apart from the other kings who followed. Sadly, Solomon eventually disqualified himself as a teacher as he strayed from the precepts he had taught others. We must choose our sensei carefully and follow in God’s ways.

Respect for the Elderly

“Show respect for the elderly and revere your God.” Leviticus 19:32

It was senior discount day at the local ski slope in Japan and for the first time, my wife and I were eligible to receive this special rate. When we bought our tickets, we were pleasantly surprised to discover that an all-day lift pass, which normally costs $65, was reduced to only $15. I quietly congratulated myself on this unexpected boon, thinking that getting older has its perks! As is true in many Asian countries, Japan respects the elderly contingent of its society. It has even set aside one day of the year to honor its senior citizens, calling it Keiro no Hi (敬老の日), meaning “Respect for the Aged Day.”

Japan enjoys the world’s second longest life expectancy (87 years for women, 81 for men) and boasts of the greatest number of centenarians (80,000), with the vast majority (88%) of them being women. This rapidly graying trend in composition of the population makes Japan the fastest-aging country in the world; almost a third of its people are age 65 or older. A seemingly contradictory consequence of this increase among the elderly is an alarming steady decrease in the population, which in turn, puts other negative pressures on an already overburdened economy.

Despite these concerns, the elderly still enjoy a number of privileges in Japan such as special seating on public transportation, substantial senior discounts to various activities and extra time for new forms of leisure targeting this particular group in society. In addition, healthcare is inexpensive and available to all, but obviously, it is the older generation that takes the fullest advantage of this benefit. Many elderly live under a single roof with younger family members who assist with their care and this helps to cut overall costs. While some people may consider this to be a burden, most retirees are treated with a measure of respect and honored in their twilight years for their past sacrifices for their family.

One of the alarming trends in Japanese society closely related to this topic is the rapid aging of church members and the elderly pastors that care for them. Recent surveys reveal that 89% of Japanese pastors are over the age of 50 and almost half (47%) are over the age of 70. While it is certainly beneficial to have a good number of older pastors to care for an increasingly graying church, this does not bode well for the future growth of the church which must include a younger demographic.

Besides the benefits of cheaper ski lift tickets and numerous discounts, getting older in Japan has other meaningful advantages. For example, older pastors and church members have an increased measure of wisdom and maturity that comes from years of experience and this knowledge can be passed on to others for their benefit. This is true in many other areas as the elderly still have much to offer to the younger generation. Fortunately, Japan is a country that does not discount the contributions of the aged in such matters, but at the same time, the elderly must exercise discernment and grace in dispensing their wisdom gleaned over many years. Respect for the elderly is a biblical imperative (Leviticus 19:32) that has the potential to bring blessing to both the old and the young. Obedience to this command is also an indicator of one’s attitude towards God Himself. In that regard, every day should be Keiro no Hi.

Evaporated People

“What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14b

When Takahashi san* was laid off from his high paying job without warning, he was ashamed to tell anyone so he continued to pretend every day that he was going to work. After a few weeks, Mr. Takahashi could no longer maintain the charade so instead of disclosing the situation or committing suicide as some might choose to do, he simply disappeared. In doing so, Takahashi san joined the company of many others like him who in colloquial Japanese are referred to as “jōhatsusha” (蒸発者) or, the “evaporated ones.” Each year roughly 100,000 Japanese disappear in a similar manner with a number of factors accounting for such an extreme reaction. Some are fleeing abusive marriages, others seek to escape financial obligations such as unpaid loans or gambling debts, while many simply cannot face real or perceived expectations they have failed to meet.

The term jōhatsusha was first coined in the 1960s when many individuals started to disappear in order to escape broken marriages to avoid public and expensive divorce proceedings. This new social trend escalated even further in the 1990s when the economic bubble burst and a multitude of people, particularly men, suddenly lost the security and benefits of lifetime employment. Seeking a reset in life, many changed their names and often refused entitled public benefits in order to maintain their anonymity. These “evaporated people” quietly entered into a burgeoning shadow economy by taking on low-paying day jobs to make ends meet and increasingly congregated in urban areas of Japan often dominated by Japanese yakuza (mafia). In most cases, it is possible for jōhatsusha to hide in plain sight because of strict Japanese privacy laws that protect their identities. As time slips by, many families cease looking for them altogether and slowly start to regard them as being “dead.” In addition, police have no obligation or interest in tracking jōhatsusha down unless they have committed some kind of crime. Once someone steps out of line in Japan it is very difficult to reenter normal societal patterns, even if one has a change in heart. Second chances are rare in Japan so those who initially choose to evaporate tend to remain in an invisible state, even if they eventually regret that choice.

Since this social phenomenon is widespread and continues to quietly increase, shady companies have steadily emerged alongside this trend to assist those wishing to disappear. These new enterprises are referred to as “yonigeya” (夜逃げや), which is roughly translated as “night flight relocators.” For a set fee, depending upon the service rendered and risks involved, these dubious companies provide the practical logistics needed to help people evaporate. This assistance may include moving possessions, creating false documentation, dealing with loan sharks, offering physical protection, providing transportation or finding a new living location. In addition to yonigeya, published guidelines are easily available to assist those who are considering a jōhatsusha lifestyle.

The choice to evaporate and disappear from life is for many a form of self-preservation. For some it even includes an element of altruism that provides an alternative so they can avoid inflicting any further pain upon loved ones. However, most jōhatsusha would probably acknowledge that adopting a vaporous lifestyle is an inadequate solution that may solve some problems but also creates others. Such acts of desperation inevitably remind us of the transient nature of life itself apart from God and living according to His purposes. James describes such a life as being like a “mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (James 4:14b) We may be able to evaporate from the pursuit of men but never from the presence of God. Unlike a vapor, a life of obedience lingers for eternity.

*Fictional name and incident

Together

“Glorify the Lord with me; let us exalt his name together.” Psalm 34:3

We had not been in Japan very long before we soon came to understand that Japanese place a high value on doing things together. This concept of togetherness manifests itself in many forms and it is drilled into behavioral patterns from early childhood. The Japanese term often used to describe this value is isshoni (一緒に), which means basically, “together” or “at the same time.” However, isshoni goes much deeper than the West’s typical concept of teamwork, which promotes the idea of togetherness primarily as a means to a desired end. In Japan, isshoni is considered an objective in itself, where togetherness is almost always preferred over doing things alone or in isolation. The general propensity in the West is to tackle problems and seek solutions as individuals. This independence from others theoretically sets a person free from group entanglements that might otherwise hold them back from reaching their desired goals. But in contrast, Japan views the process of isshoni as a necessary process for identifying and achieving lasting objectives.

With this overall purpose in mind, children are frequently clumped together into groups called “gumi” for sports, clubs, activities and various projects, which in turn encourages everyone to perceive their identity as a member of a particular group. As these children steadily advance toward adulthood, the concept of isshoni continues to play a vital role in business structures, various social routines, neighborhood activities and even leisure times. However, the steady erosion of the extended family in Japan has had the opposite effect as it promotes increased isolation and a marked departure from the traditions of isshoni. Therefore, to strengthen the moral fabric of the nation, the Japanese government actively promotes policies that enhance isshoni activities among families and communities. One example of this is the popular and publicly sponsored children’s TV program aptly titled “Okaasan to Issho” (Together with My Mom) that my wife and daughter were invited to join on one memorable occasion when the show was filmed locally.

When I was given the opportunity to preach my first sermon many years ago, I spoke from Psalm 133, which starts out, “How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity.” That particular passage powerfully spoke to me in my younger days and continues to impact my life after many years of ministry. As a relatively young believer when I prepared that initial sermon, I realized that I had been positively influenced by my Christian college community and the many godly members of a new church plant I attended. Collectively, the people God had graciously placed into my life played a critical role in shaping my values, ministry skills and personal choices that remain with me to this day. Unknown to me, many of the higher aspects of isshoni were imprinted on my heart even then as part of God’s redemptive and sanctifying work in my life. As God exists in a Trinitarian relationship, it should come as no surprise that He graciously uses community to accomplish His purposes in us and through us. God is an Isshoni God and isshoni we serve His purposes together. Isshoni may not be an end in itself, but it is certainly instrumental in facilitating our true goal, which is to “exalt his name together.” (Psalm 34:3)

Apprenticeship

“The things you have heard me say in the presence of many witnesses entrust to reliable people who will also be qualified to teach others.” II Timothy 2:2

apprentice

Every culture has a vested interest in transferring knowledge from one generation to the next as part of the essential process of preserving its own uniqueness. This passing of the torch often involves the retention of certain skills and expertise that acquire considerable time and effort to acquire. For this reason, the concept of apprenticeship was widely practiced for centuries in certain trades and crafts to ensure the continuity of valuable services, goods, information and techniques. Much of this transference of knowledge occurred within a semi-indentured form of relationship from an acknowledged master to a novice. But over the last century, these former feudalistic and austere tendencies of ancient apprenticeship practices have largely given way to a modern system of employment that allows for much more individual freedom. Despite this shift, Japan still retains a certain element of apprenticeship that is more obvious in certain vocations.

This proclivity in Japan towards acquiring a particular skill through a rigorous, time demanding and low paying training program was brought to our attention a few years ago by a long-time friend. Trained in the field of medicine, this individual was seeking a complete change in life and had settled upon making customized surfboards for a living. When we inquired about the process, we learned that our friend would receive a very minimal salary and was expected to devote long hours for several years with hardly any days off for the privilege of mastering this modern craft. This apprenticeship-like arrangement for mastering a particular skill was very similar to what we had heard about master sword makers, professional sushi chefs, tea ceremony teachers, kabuki actors, trained calligraphers and other areas where one desires to become an expert in certain arts and crafts.

For example, if someone wants to become a recognized sushi chef in a high-end restaurant, they usually must start at the bottom washing dishes. Then, after a period of time, they may be entrusted with the correct preparation of the rice and eventually, they begin their more formal apprenticeship training using knives. The whole process may require up to a decade under strictly guided tutelage. Upon completion of their contractual service, these former apprentices are recognized as fully trained professionals and are qualified to start their own business or seek employment elsewhere.

The concept of biblical discipleship in many aspects mirrors the idea of apprenticeship in its objectives, but certainly not in many of its methods. The goal is to train others in godliness, faithfulness and truth and Jesus provided a pattern of a newer and improved model of discipleship that was built on love. A disciple, called a deshi (弟子) in Japanese, is generally an individual who is committed to certain goals. To achieve their objectives, they follow someone wiser and more experienced who is commonly referred to as a sensei (先生), or teacher in Japanese. This was similar to the strategy Paul laid out to his own disciple, Timothy, who was exhorted to implement the same patterns with other like-minded and reliable God followers who would, hopefully, influence others. (II Timothy 2:2) Heavenly and eternal objectives should spur us to apprentice ourselves to others more mature than ourselves, who can assist us in our spiritual journey. Assuming that we are good pupils, we should also aspire to become good teachers. In the way of the Cross, the deshi becomes the sensei, all by the grace of God.

When Yes Means No

“our message to you is not ‘Yes’ and ‘No.’” II Corinthians 1:18b

YesNo2 Still a stranger to the unique ways of Japan, I visited the largest ski shop in Sapporo, completely unaware of the rabbit hole I was about to enter. It all began with a simple question: “Do you have any men’s ski boots in size 29 centimeters under ¥20,000?” (around $200) Much to my surprise and satisfaction, the salesman immediately replied “hai,” which I understood to mean, “yes.” I was then instructed to sit down while he disappeared in the back to retrieve the boots.

A few minutes later the salesman emerged triumphantly bearing a nice pair of men’s boots in the correct size, so I started to quietly congratulate myself on my successful shopping foray. But my premature celebration came to a screeching halt when I noticed the price tag dangling from one of the boots: ¥85,000! After catching my breath, I reminded the salesman of my meager ¥20,000 budget. Seemingly nonplussed by my intransigence, he proudly told me that they were willing to make the boots available at a special price of only ¥70,000. After a few more enquiries and direct negotiation with the manager, I soon learned that this was the ONLY pair of men’s ski boots the store had in my size. I was now trapped in a quasi life and death struggle as the bargaining continued. The price soon dropped to ¥60,000, and then ¥50,000 as I kept politely insisting that I only had ¥20,000 for the purchase. The store personnel probably thought this was a clever bargaining ploy on my part and didn’t fully grasp that I actually had only ¥20,000 for the purchase. By now I was just looking for an avenue to escape my predicament as all the salesmen repeatedly huddled together to discuss their strategy. Approximately one hour later and exhausted by the experience, I eventually walked out the front door with my new pair of ski boots purchased for only ¥20,000. I was completely befuddled as to what had transpired inside.

First of all, hai can simply mean “I hear you,” or “I acknowledge what you said.” So, the salesman never actually promised that the store had what I was looking for at the price I had requested. Secondly, to complicate things even further, it is considered impolite to tell a customer “no,” implying that they can’t help you. Unknown to me, I had unwittingly placed the store management in an awkward position of being unable to refuse my request. Upon further reflection, I think we all learned something that day as I was possibly the first foreigner to ever shop at their store. As the years went by, I continued to use those boots, which served as a reminder that “yes” can sometimes mean “no” and that I had much to learn about communication in Japan.

I seriously doubt that the Apostle Paul ever tried to purchase ski boots and was faced with a similar quandary, but he was charged on one occasion of inconsistency in his messaging. It appeared that his “yes” and “no” were in contradiction with one another as Paul had previously stated his intention to visit the Corinthian church on his way to Macedonia (II Corinthians 1). However, for reasons not stated, Paul was forced to cancel those plans which led to unfair criticisms of his character. After rebuffing these somewhat trivial arguments in his letter to the Corinthian Church, Paul used this theme to emphasize the surety of the promises of God in Christ. “For no matter how many promises God has made, they are ‘Yes’ in Christ.” (v.20) This is a great reminder that there can be confusion among people in communication, and there may even be confusion regarding one’s character, but God’s message and His plan of redemption through His Son are unequivocally clear. God’s “yes” in Christ is an eternal game changer for all who believe.

Outcasts

“’I will restore you to health and heal your wounds,’ declares the Lord, ‘because you are called an outcast.” Jeremiah 30:17

When we resided in Japan as foreigners, we had a pretty good idea of what it felt like to be outsiders (see previous blog on aliens), but centuries before we arrived, Japan instituted a class of people who were considered to be outcasts. They were known as the “burakumin” (部落民) which can be translated as “hamlet” or “village people.” This peculiar name stuck because the burakumin tended to live in segregated communities scattered throughout Japan performing what was then regarded as the dirty tasks needed by society. These jobs were typically associated with death and therefore included trades like butchers, tanners, executioners and undertakers. The burakumin were looked down upon as the “defiled ones”; the more derogatory name for them in the feudal era was “eta” (穢多) that meant literally “an abundance of defilement.” Therefore, the areas where they lived were distained and commonly referred to as “etamura,” or “defiled villages.”

This ancient social outcast system surprises many who admire modern Japan as a homogeneous society where equity under the law is a high value and a common practice. Indeed, this is largely true, but the dark strands of burakumin prejudice quietly continue to exist in various forms despite legal injunctions against it. Japanese warlord Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1537-1598) was historically responsible for creating this untouchable class in the 16^th century when he divided the entire Japanese population into four hereditary castes in the descending order of samurai, farmer, artisan and merchant. The burakumin were then relegated to a category below this arbitrary caste system and their degraded status was not based on different ethnicity, but exclusively upon the tasks they were required to perform.

Burakumin continued to live for centuries under a cloud of discrimination within Japanese society but this prejudice was officially terminated in 1871 by a law that is now known as the “Emancipation Edict” that granted full legal status to all burakumin and their descendants. However, it took decades for the rights of this historically oppressed group to be fully recognized. Even today, some forms of subtle discrimination continue, particularly when it comes to marriage or in some cases, employment. Several studies indicate that there are over two million burakumin within Japan and 60 percent of the Japanese mafia known as yakuza (see previous blog), are comprised of burakumin. Due to the shameful and delicate nature of this subject, the existence and the plight of the burakumin is even now rarely acknowledged in Japan.

A common phrase in the Old Testament, particularly in the Pentateuch, is “outside the camp.” This phrase refers to a status of uncleanness where certain sacrifices, ritually unclean individuals and evil doers were deliberately separated from the community of God’s people with the goal of maintaining holiness within the community. When individuals were expelled to life outside of the camp, it was generally viewed as a temporary measure, not a permanent banishment or form of discrimination, as the ultimate objective was their full restoration to the community.

The author of Hebrews (chapter 13) picks up this complex theme and noted that “Jesus also suffered outside of the city gate to make the people holy through his own blood,” (v.12) and that we should “go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore.” (v.13) Such an amazing response turns human contrived caste systems and prejudicial attitudes on their head as it declares that no one is outside the grace of God. We are all outcasts and defiled by our sins, but God loves us so much, He figuratively went outside of the camp to redeem us. Let us therefore join Jesus “outside the camp,” taking on the scorn of others, to minister to a hurting world.