Tuesday, April 18, 2006

The Biggest Little Baptism in Tokyo

Baptisms are grand, festive occasions. When a person becomes a child of God and has water drenched on their head, it is like having a party during worship. Last Sunday, we had two.

Throughout Lent, two women had been learning about being disciples , preparing for baptism on Easter morning. Twice during Lent the women stood at the baptismal font while the congregation pledged continuing support for these two women on their faith journey. One time, they were marked with the cross: on their head, mouth, heart, hands ... over and over. I was moved. Each and every part of these women was marked as holy (wholly!) to God. The second time, each was given their own liturgy book, and again, the congregation was there supporting and praying for these two women.

Easter morning, the women came to the font. The smallest font I have ever seen. The silver bowl seemed so tiny, but it was filled to the brim with water. And perhaps it was deeper than it looked. I can't help but think of the miracle of Hanukkah and the oil which lasted for eight days. The water in this bowl drenched the heads of two women, three times each.

The pastor cupped both hands, plunged them into the water, and water poured over her head, the font, and the floor. "In the name of the Father...." So much water, like a child playing in the tub. "And of the Son ...." Water, running down her hair, her neck. "And of the Holy Spirit ..." After that she was handed a large, fluffy white bath towel. She needed it!

Then the pastor did it again! Two women, completely drenched from that tiny bowl of water. God's miracle in baptism -- enough water to take a bath in. (The Japanese word for baptism (seirei) is a combination of the words for "wash" and "worship"). Enough water to cleanse us and make us children of God.

On this festive day, we welcome two new members into God's family. And, dripping with water, we shout together, "Christ is Risen, indeed! Alleluia!"

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

How did I get here?

Anyone who has ever met me knows that I am physically capable of getting lost inside my own house (thankfully, that has not happened yet. But, never say never!).

That being public knowledge, whenever I leave the house, it is wise for me to wear several tracking devices, carry various maps and be eqipped with GPS (I seriously did consider buying a cell phone eqipped with GPS, but it was just too expensive). And leave early. If possible, three days early.

Last Sunday I decided to walk to the church where I attend English worship services, because it is close to my new house and because I had a map and because I didn't want to spend the money for the subway. According to my map, it should have taken somewhere between 30-45 minutes to walk there. And that's if I took only main roads, without any shortcuts. So, knowing my penchant for taking the senic route, I left an hour and a early.

Leaving my house, I was optimisitc. This time I would do it right. I studied the map well before I left, then tucked it in my purse for further reassurance.

After a few blocks of walking past familiar stores, I looked past them and saw a ferris wheel. Wait! A ferris wheel? How did I get here? There is no ferris wheel where I am going!

However, there is a ferris wheel just past where I am going, so I must have misjudged the distance, gone too far, and it is obviously time to cut to the east, like I knew I would have to. Okay, so, turn left and ... and come to an unfamiliar intersection.

No street names, no familar landmarks, and a looming ferris wheel.

I kept walking for awhile. Eventually, something would look familar, or I would come to another large intersection, or I would stumble upon a subway station, and things would be fine again. Finally I came upon a map that showed where I was and labled different parts of the neighborhood. Unfortunately, the university I needed as a landmark was not on there, but at least I had an idea of which way to head (and it was away from the ferris wheel. See, I knew it!)

I started walking, and now realized that I was going to be late for church if I did not find it or a subway station soon. So I kept walking and picked up the pace. Suddenly, I was filled with dread. I recognized the gas station in front of me. I recognized the intersection in front of me. I walked for an hour in a circle. I was back to my house.

How did I get here?

I got on the subway, as I had tried to avoid all along. Once I finally made it to church (I got lost again taking a new subway route, too), I tried to explain what happened. Someone asked, "So you turned at the ferris wheel, right? It's just down the street."

The ferris wheel I had been trying to avoid was supposed to have been my landmark. For six months, I have been approaching the church from a different direction. I had never known that behind a group of tall buidings sat a small amusement park.

I am still not sure how I arrived at the church. It's amazing I manage to find my way anywhere at all! (P.S. Even after all that, I was still five minutes early for church!)

How did I get here?

Friday, April 07, 2006

Korean, anyone?

As if I did not already have enough on my plate trying to learn Japanese, I came across a church offering Korean lessons.

"Why not?" I thought. "Why not give it a try?"

I have a friend who is Korean, who told me that Korean and Japanese are very similar, that is why it was so easy for him to learn Japanese.

"Why not?" I thought. "What can it hurt?"

My ego, for one thing.

My brain, for another.

I obviously came in to the class after it originally started, for there I was being introduced as a new class member, and would you all please introduce yourselves .... in Korean!

Ummm, yea.

The class is, of course, taught in Japanese (maybe I'll learn my Japanese this way!). After an hour of counting in Korean, I can now say one and ten, but nothing in between. We also also practiced days of the week, but forget it, I can barely remember those in Japanese. The good news: the class is only once a month.

What was I thinking?