John's Last Words

For those of us who knew him, John's last update is one we will never forget. Written but five days before his death, John shares at an emotional depth rare for him, especially in such a public letter. In this letter I see John, not as a perfect man, but still struggling against the flesh. Yet we see a spiritual man, a man on pilgrimage. I see a picture of a man loving his enemies, like his God who loved His enemies and died for them.

How powerful today in a world of brokeness in relationships between inviduals and nations alike, to have an example like John and his father to point to the possiblity of healing and forgivenss the Gospel offers. I can't help but to note that John's father's private struggle with forgiving the Japansese has born fruit not only in his own life, but in that of John and all those who have been impacted by these words.

John, we miss you and your example. Farewell for now Brother.

07/26/2006

I was 5 years old when I heard my dad speak Japanese for the first time.  I didn't know how to speak English yet, but I knew that English was not the language that came out of his mouth.  It was probably the first time I wanted to learn Japanese because every little boy wants to be like his dad.  But I learned later that my dad didn't choose to learn Japanese.  He was physically forced and beaten by Japanese officials to speak it as a child and had to attend Japanese schools.  You see, my father lived during the Japanese occupation of Korea and was forbidden to study under his native language and speak it under law and penalty of physical abuse, which he received.  And so I grew up hearing these kinds of stories and developing some indignation for these people who would lay a hand on my dad and my family.  How dare they?  It was not unusual for my parents to speak badly about the Japanese.   In fact, the word "Japanese" was usually accompanied with a swear word of some sort and never mentioned by itself.  Nevertheless, I still aspired to learn the language for some reason and applied to attend school in Japan for a year during college.  Fearful of my father's reaction I applied in secret and when I was accepted into the program I waited to tell him until the very last minute.  I'll share his reaction a little later.
 
This past weekend I went to visit a controversial war museum that honored its war "heroes" with some of the students.  I knew there was a potential for me to get upset by going to view it, but wanted to see what all the controversy was all about.  Sure enough, I ended up having to exercise some of my Christian muscles, if you know what I mean, especially the ones that control forgiveness.  Throughout the museum the exhibits told of how peaceful of a nation Japan was and how it was the Americans that pushed them into WWII, which they had called "The Greater East Asian War."  They called the invasion of Korea the "Annexation of Korea" and made it sound like it was an amicable, bilateral decision involving both countries.  And they defended the invasion and occupation of other Asian nations as being ultimately beneficial to them.  One exhibit stated that Japan's occupation of these Asian countries inspired them to fight off colonialism and seek freedom when they saw how the Japanese were able to fight against Western enemies.  It's like a school bully growing up one day and telling the children of the students he beat up that it was for their parents' own good because it made them tougher in the end.  Perhaps he should be thanked.  At this museum Japan was completely blameless.  Not once was there an offer of an apology for the brutality they inflicted to families like my own, and not once did they describe themselves as aggressors during the war, but portrayed themselves as innocent peace seeking citizens who were pushed into war by the evil Western forces.  I was offended as an American, a Korean, and as an idealist who values truth.  The last part of the museum contained the photos of all the fallen soldiers of the war and said that all their souls returned there to have peace.  It is considered a sacred place for right wing nationalists.  The current prime minister, Koizumi, got some criticism for having visited the shrine there and having offered up prayers for the soldiers.
 
I pretty much hurried through that last part of the museum because I had a hard time looking at these soldiers' faces.  Two thoughts competed for supremacy in my mind.  One was, "These are the ones who caused so much agony for my parents and my family and my people.  I wonder which one of these guys personally assaulted my dad."  The other thought was, "I can't believe that God loves every one of these soldiers.  It's unfathomable.  But He does."
 
I left the museum being very pensive and upset at the fact that such a place existed, but was always met with Words such as, "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  And I had to marvel at the fact that God loved us and died for us while we were still His enemies.  He didn't wait for us to change or offer an apology.  And so I was faced with a decision.  Do I harbor any bitterness and unforgiveness or do I choose to "love each other dearly, for love covers over a multitude of sins"?  I have to be honest and tell you that it wasn't an easy decision to make.  In fact, it's more like a constant negotiation.  Love for me is much more a matter of choice than a feeling.
 
There is a scene in *The Lord of the Rings* where Frodo hands Galadriel, who is like an Elven Queen, the One Ring.  This ring has the potential to make her strong and fearsome, but ultimately very evil.  She takes the ring and undergoes great temptation to wear it, but in the end resists and gains power over the lure of the ring.  She has now earned the right to go into the West, a kind of heaven, which was forbidden to her until then because of her past history of disobedience.
 
I was offered that Ring of vengeful thoughts and bitterness at the museum and am daily offered that ring from many sources both at home and abroad.  With each offering I'm given a choice to wear the ring and become powerful in my own anger and hate, or humbly refuse it and choose to wear a "garland of grace."  I wish I could say that I always choose grace, but I must confess that such is not always the case.  But this much I can say.  I do not hold accountable the Japanese today for the crimes of their ancestors.  Praise God for that.  But there's always a bit of tension for me coming to Japan because of the history of the two countries and because of the things I have to sacrifice by coming here.  I don't come to Japan because I have this great love affair with Japan.  I come to Japan because God loves the Japanese.  This museum showed me that my love is in short supply, but God's love is limitless.
 
Well, here's how my father reacted to my decision to go to school in Japan and learn Japanese and not to Korea and hone my Korean speaking skills.  He responded with grace and support.  You see, my father became a Christian while I was in jr. high and ultimately forgave the Japanese for all their wrongdoing.  He bought me my first Japanese dictionary, which I brought with me.  And from his life I personally saw the transforming power of the Gospel.  He is a completely different man.  He can even say "Japanese" without using a swear word. :)
 
Perhaps you can understand why my friendship with Shinichi is so encouraging to me, for in Christ there is "no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all" (Col 3:11).
 
John