Happy Birthday, Alina!
(Front, l-r: Cheryl, Alina, Rachelle;
Back: Bernie, Timothy, Amanda)
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Special Call to Prayer
Ishanti. That’s what her uncle lovingly whispered three times into her right ear as he cradled her in his arms. The baby girl with tiny, perfectly formed features and a full head of jet black hair slept through it all. Just two weeks old, she didn’t know that Ishanti was her name, consecrated by a Hindu priest according to the position of the stars, nine planets, and the moon at the time of her birth. Now, in the presence of the priest, it was bestowed upon her by her uncle, aunt, parents, and grandparents in a solemn ceremony that invoked the multiple gods of Hinduism to bless her precious life.
Without doubt, we felt some dissonance yesterday as we observed this ceremony at the home of some acquaintances. For one thing, we are in Japan and not in India. Here we are accustomed to the trappings of Buddhism—family altars, some elaborate and as large as small closets; statues carved from wood or stone or cast in bronze and gold; prayer bracelets with beads of jade or colored glass; incense, flowers, and fruit offerings; and shaven-headed priests clad in the flowing robes of their trade.
The markers of Japan’s indigenous religion of Shintoism are also evident wherever one goes in this land—wooden archways called torii, often painted orange, that mark the entrances to holy sites, erected on mountaintops, in the water, on the edge of rice paddies or wooded areas, or even on rooftops; piles of small rocks stacked one on top of the other in the forests; gentle-faced stone-carved jizo statues beside the roads to protect travelers along their way; god shelves in homes and businesses; and more.
But this was our first encounter with Hinduism in Japan. Yet it wasn’t just this display of religious devotion in the fourteenth floor apartment with a magnificent night view of Tokyo that confronted us: the chanting; the elephant god statues; the numerous depictions of the eternal seeing eye that identifies Hindu temples; the incense and rice offerings; and the yellow-orange marigold petals used both as gifts to the gods and as blessings on those in attendance.
What challenged us most was wondering if little Ishanti, surrounded by love, could ever possibly come to know the God who is Love? And her mother and father? Looking around that room filled to overflowing with highly educated and financially privileged young men and women representing Indonesia, Hong Kong, Australia, Singapore, and Japan, we felt more sadness than anything else. Where will this elite group spend eternity? Is there anything we can possibly do to influence this answer?
To be honest, we confess to feeling somewhat hopeless. Our worlds are so different, even if we do live in Tokyo. And yet, could it be that God himself brought Cheryl into contact with this family in order to be his link into her world? Why indeed would she have invited us, of all people, to attend this important celebration that is so sacred to Hindus? Mordecai’s words to Esther echo in our minds today, “Who knows but that you have come . . . for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14).
Oh, God, embolden and equip your servants to do your bidding in this place that your Love may be proclaimed. One day, when we stand before you, may you declare to us, “Well done, good and faithful [servants]! Come and share your master’s happiness” (Matthew 25:21).
Without doubt, we felt some dissonance yesterday as we observed this ceremony at the home of some acquaintances. For one thing, we are in Japan and not in India. Here we are accustomed to the trappings of Buddhism—family altars, some elaborate and as large as small closets; statues carved from wood or stone or cast in bronze and gold; prayer bracelets with beads of jade or colored glass; incense, flowers, and fruit offerings; and shaven-headed priests clad in the flowing robes of their trade.
The markers of Japan’s indigenous religion of Shintoism are also evident wherever one goes in this land—wooden archways called torii, often painted orange, that mark the entrances to holy sites, erected on mountaintops, in the water, on the edge of rice paddies or wooded areas, or even on rooftops; piles of small rocks stacked one on top of the other in the forests; gentle-faced stone-carved jizo statues beside the roads to protect travelers along their way; god shelves in homes and businesses; and more.
But this was our first encounter with Hinduism in Japan. Yet it wasn’t just this display of religious devotion in the fourteenth floor apartment with a magnificent night view of Tokyo that confronted us: the chanting; the elephant god statues; the numerous depictions of the eternal seeing eye that identifies Hindu temples; the incense and rice offerings; and the yellow-orange marigold petals used both as gifts to the gods and as blessings on those in attendance.
What challenged us most was wondering if little Ishanti, surrounded by love, could ever possibly come to know the God who is Love? And her mother and father? Looking around that room filled to overflowing with highly educated and financially privileged young men and women representing Indonesia, Hong Kong, Australia, Singapore, and Japan, we felt more sadness than anything else. Where will this elite group spend eternity? Is there anything we can possibly do to influence this answer?
To be honest, we confess to feeling somewhat hopeless. Our worlds are so different, even if we do live in Tokyo. And yet, could it be that God himself brought Cheryl into contact with this family in order to be his link into her world? Why indeed would she have invited us, of all people, to attend this important celebration that is so sacred to Hindus? Mordecai’s words to Esther echo in our minds today, “Who knows but that you have come . . . for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14).
Oh, God, embolden and equip your servants to do your bidding in this place that your Love may be proclaimed. One day, when we stand before you, may you declare to us, “Well done, good and faithful [servants]! Come and share your master’s happiness” (Matthew 25:21).
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