Koenji Awaodori Festival

Tonight I had the pleasure of going to the Koenji Awaodori Festival with two of my students--Mutsuko and Keiko. Here's a quick clip about it:

About 188 groups(ren), 12,000 dancers perform Awa dance to lively music and parade through the nine routes set up along the shotengai(shopping promenades). Koenji Awaodori is the second largest of all the Awaodori festivals held throughout Japan. It also highlights the summer of Tokyo as one of the three largest summer festivals of the area.

(http://www.koenji-awaodori.com/indexEn.html)

It was an absolute blast. The dancing was elegant and purposeful and pronounced. All ages participated. Each group was led by a tall banner made of lanterns displaying their group name. People wore kimonos, yukkatas, or hapi coats, and some of the women wore geta footwear. The dancers dance for three hours straight with their arms above their shoulders. It was absolutely fabulous. And crowded!

Here are some photos from the night:

This last photo is from Sunday. The three of us also went up to the Yakota USAirforce Base. The base held their annual Friendship Festival and opened their gates to the public for the weekend. There were bands and stands and demonstrations, as well as a 3-on-3 basketball tournament and a hanabi (fireworks) display to close out the weekend. Keiko is on the left, and Mutsuko is on the right.

End of August

Smells of Japan:

The burning incense of temples and shrines

Beer on the breath of men riding evening trains home after post-work drinks with colleagues

Old man sweat.

The last one is terribly disgusting. Old men have their own smell to begin with, but the sweltering summer heat of an out-of-the-ordinary sweltering Japanese summer causes the smell to blend with profuse sweating. And Japan is a country populated by those over 65. The culture is slowly evolving to more resemble Western culture and twenty-somethings who were previously married and reproducing are now working more diligently than ever and pursuing dreams of their own. The kodomo population is shrinking and schools are closing because there are not enough children to fill them.

The middle-aged group is rising in independence and the natural inclinations that Westerners feel towards their fellow man is very evidently missing. The mindset of the Japanese fascinates me. Group mentality occurs as naturally as breathing in and out. One for all. Yet "all" is a finite, countable number here. And outside that number, people are inconsequential. Perhaps we could say "One for all. Nothing for the rest." Every day in the eki, I feel it. To the man pushing past me or the two women blocking the ticketwicket so they can talk, I'm of less value, of less consequence than the cicadas that fill the trees this time of year. I'm background noise and easily ignored, though sometimes obnoxious.

While in the West, we might say we do this, too--especially if you're a human rights activist and start complaining about how we walk by the homeless every day on the streets or how the big corporations screw the little guy or whatever you want to say--but at the core, we recognize some humanity in those around us. It's different. I may feel demeaned by the customer who looks at me, her server, as someone who couldn't do better than this in life and is thus inferior; but here I feel like a piece of useless, purposeless furniture. They say that it's better to be hated than to be thought of indifferently, because at least then that person has taken notice of you... this is the difference I feel here.

Yahoo! featured an article the other day that highlighted the consequences of this mentality--the man believed to be the oldest in Japan was found dead in his room. Apparently he had been dead for 30 years. Thirty years... Neighbors who were interviewed never noticed that the man was missing, that the man had stopped coming in and out of his home, ever. Thirty years!

This opened the door for investigations into the "disappearances" of many other septuagenarians across the country who have, in fact been dead. Of course, officials look into controversies surrounding fraud--but really, is fraud the true problem or is it the fact that so many people can get away with hiding the death of a person for so long? The fact that others don't care to notice. The mentality is heartbreaking.

In one of my classes this week we read Max Lucado's You Are Special. It's the story of Punchinello, struck down by society, but prized in the eyes of his creator. It's the story of us and God. We are so prized by our Creator. We are, each of us, an expression of His glory. The story is impactful personally--but stretch your mind for just a moment and realize that if He loves us so ardently, then that means that He loves them in the exact same manner. As Christians, we are called to love.

Or at the very. least. recognize the expression of God's glory in a fellow human being.

Busy!

Today officially ends two weeks that were surprisingly filled to the brim!

Of course, these were all the good kinds of busy, but even the good busy-ness will exhaust you and pull you to your edges.

Last weekend, a team from Kim Sensei's church in Korea came. They spent their week touring Tokyo and learning about its religious traditions, in evangelism, and cleaning the church building top to bottom. This was really my first experience with Korean teenagers--my friend Seul Kee is Korean, and from the same church, but I've spent time one-on-one with her and she's past her teenage years. Koreans are excitable, energetic, and very touchy-feely. They greet you with hugs, hand-holding, and inter-locking arms. It can be surprising, but comes from such a joyful place that it's hard to be bothered by it! There were 25 of them, as well as several leaders and the youth pastor. Yes.. around 30 team members in that little church! It's a good thing they don't suffer from the "personal space" trait that most of us Americans do!

I spent the entirety of the weekend with them--from sunup to sundown, Saturday through Monday. We spent Saturday in one area of downtown called Odaiba (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odaiba). Imagine Chicago's Navy Pier, but blown-up and heavily commercialized. There's a huge ferris wheel, several malls, and museums, as well as the Fuji TV headquarters (think NBC Studios in NYC on crack). We prayed over the idols of science and commercialism, and sat between Fuji TV and Aqua City Mall, singing praises in Korean, Japanese, and English. Once again the accessibility, the vastness, the creativity of the Body of Christ hit me full force. As the sun was setting, we sang over Tokyo Bay and a gentleman traveling through Asia on holiday joined us. I'm so comfortable with going about my day-to-day life at home with my Christianity being a fact that contributes to who I am in the same way that my brown hair and brown eyes are traits. But in this moment, our relationship with Christ was put on display and it attracted fellow believers. That every day would be like that! How comforting would I find it to travel in another country and run across other Christians so openly adoring the same Father who brings us all safely together.

It was a beautiful moment that continued on into the next morning when Thorston, our German friend, joined us for church. Kim Sensei was beaming as she looked around our little congregation and rejoiced in how God's Kingdom was represented: Korea, Germany, Japan, American, China, Brazil. All in our little church! It was beautiful.

I was able to spend all day Monday with the team, also. Those kids are just fantastic. I had so much fun talking with them and learning little bits of Korean! Although they spoke little English and little Japanese, communication somehow moved smoothly because the want to communicate was so strong. Their joy, their love--it's contagious. Monday we drove up to Mt. Fuji. To Fuji-san, as the Japanese refer to it. They personify the mountain with the predicate san because to them, the great landmark is a god. They have a saying, in fact, that they repeat when they reach the top--similar to "I have conquered the god. I am greater than a god. I can conquer anything." People journey from all over to worship at the shrines on Fuji-san. Which made it that much more powerful when we prayed over the mountain and sang praise songs on its side.

Unfortunately for us (or perhaps fortunately, depending upon your perspective) it rained on Monday and although we were physically standing on the mountain, we couldn't see very far past us. In fact we couldn't see the mountain itself at all! It was cloaked in fog. Nevertheless, thanks to the many Banner issues I've received from friends and family at home, we were able to get a photo--the entire Korean team, me, and my friend Hannah all reading The Dillsburg Banner in the middle of Mt. Fuji! It was fun and funny and they were all excited to pick through copies of my hometown newspaper.

(Time for class.... edit coming later..)

His Grace

No one can redeem the life of another

or give to God a sufficient ransom--

the ransom for a life is costly,

no payment is ever enough--

Psalm 49:7-8

It seems like such a simple concept and one that should be understood. After all, if we follow the Roman Road (as so many of us have learned throughout our Sunday School days) we know that the only ransom for the sin that we all commit is death and our Heavenly Father sent His Son to do just that. We've been saved this death by His grace and His grace alone. Christianity 101.

But the concept outlined in Psalm 49 becomes more difficult when it's put into action. When there are those that you love--really, really love--who are suffering under brokenness, through darkness, against lies and pride and anger. It's painful to watch when you know how deeply our Lord loves and how free is His grace. How precious and peaceful and hope-filled is life in the Light. It's so tempting to slip into if-then prayers. I've had to backtrack in a few of my own when I replay what I've just said or written.

In Romans 9:16, Paul reminds us that "It does not depend on human desire or effort, but on God's mercy." Of course, this verse in context refers to salvation by grace as opposed to works, but the concept is the same: we are redeemed by God's mercy, lifted from an empty life by God's mercy. "Ears that hear and eyes that see--the Lord has made them both" (Prov. 20:12). It doesn't matter how much I want it to happen, it is the Lord whose way prevails. "In their hearts human beings plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps" (Prov. 16:9).

I consider how often I attempt to plan my course (or the courses of others, for that matter) and I'm struck with how limited my sight is. For in my mind I can see only the future that I imagine and the past I remember; and physically I can see only what is directly in front of me, and perhaps a little to my sides, if my peripheral vision is sharp. Though I know there is a small oven behind me, I cannot see it. I cannot see my refrigerator magnets or what's past the shojii screen that's covering my window. I can't see Indiana or my dad's home in Hershey. I can't see the seas of the Caribbean or the stars or the moon. I can't see the future or the past. I can't see the street my parent's grew up on or the men my grandmother dated before my grandpa. I can't see what happened to make my parents who they are or the moment that I changed from a little girl into a teenager. I can't see who I'll marry or the children I'll have. I can't see where my best friends will be living in ten years or the reasons why they decided to live there. I can't see the hair on the top of my head or the calluses underneath my toes. What's below my floorboards and what's hiding behind my air conditioning unit? I see none of these things. But the Lord sees them all. And then some.

It's for reasons like these that I'm beyond grateful for the Lord's sovereignty. It's reasons like this that I'm convinced of His faithfulness. That I'm floored by His unchanging, ever-present, steady nature. Beyond a shadow of a doubt I know that He has a plan and a purpose and even if I ache so badly I'm brought to tears for those in my life who are broken, I will praise God that He alone can save.

The price on our heads is costly--but take heart, for Christ has already paid the price.

Hanabi

It's been a wonderfully exciting week here in Japan. Despite being just under two months away from coming home still, I feel as if things are beginning to wrap up. I've said several see-you-laters to many of the missionaries here as August is vacation month, a time to rest up, enjoy family, and rejuvenate. And I've finished off my lesson planning for the remainder of the term. I have four sessions left with each class--only four! And hearing more from those of you at home has pulled my heart in that direction.

Nevertheless, things are still happening here! The classes that I did have this week were smaller than usual--predictable as it's holiday season for the Japanese. But the smaller class sizes enabled deeper and more directed conversations and even as I bumbled through my Bible lessons for the week, we ended with questions about why we read the Bible, why there are two parts, and who God is as He's displayed in the Word. I met Yuri for coffee, too, this week and was floored to learn that her story is very similar to mine. We struggle with similar situations and relationships in our lives. It was encouraging to share. Isn't it amazing how sharing our beliefs and experiences solidifies them in our hearts? The more I share of God's faithfulness in my own life, the more I share the stories of God's faithfulness in the Old Testament, the more I find my heart encouraged and emboldened. My reminders to them are reminders to myself--God is faithful, never changing, the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. His love is too strong, deep, high, and wide for words.

I've expressed before that I feel myself in the midst of change. While life is made up of constant changes, this is a big one. And now, this week, I feel changed. I still can't put my finger on any drastic change in thinking or behavior (and perhaps that's because I'm still "out of my element"), but I feel it. I'm excited and scared and nervous to move forth. I'm nervous about what God will ask of me next and I'm scared I won't want to give it. But I'm excited because I know that I will. My deepest desire is to be used by the One who made me.

One of my most encouraging and intentional friends, Mrs. Carpenter, shared a beautiful reminder with me in an email the other day. She says, Our God is a God of adventure and mystery and fairytales.... let's chase Him down!

He so is.

A God of adventure and mystery and fairytales.

And I want nothing more than to chase Him down.

A few photos from this last week of Hanabi festivites: