Seoul - Nuclear Security Summit

One of the events in Fukushima this March was the Fukushima International Forum, in which we shared wisdom from around the world regarding how local churches have tackled major crises such as the Chernobyl explosion in 1986 and several other recent disasters like Sichuan Earthquake in China in 2008. We also discussed most probable future man-made disasters that will shake the world: North Korea. After so many meetings and events in Japanese cities from Nagasaki to Fukushima, my mind was saturated both with stories of remarkable witness and stories of failures from local churches around the world as I left Japan (with a few more stories to write on Fukushima!) to come to Seoul for a few days of R&R.    

I arrived at Incheon airport last Saturday afternoon. The airport looked clean and efficient as usual, but it was quieter and filled with more security police than I'd seen in that airport in the last 10 years. I didn't know that there was to be a Nuclear Security Summit being held this week in Seoul. The summit included leaders from over 50 nations and over 5,000 other delegates, journalists, and so on.

One of the hottest topics talked about among people before the summit began was North Korea's plan to launch a rocket some time between April 12th and 15th in celebration of the 100th birthday of the late leader, Kim Il-Sung (grandfather of Kim Jung-Eun). Despite having one of the largest militaries in the world, North Korea has a starving population and is trying to negotiate food aid from the USA but has technology to make a missile that could potentially reach as far as the Philippines or Australia (just so you know, South Korea does not have the technology to produce such powerful missiles!). North Korea is now planning to launch a rocket into space. You can read more about the planned rocket launch next month on the BBC website, here.

The Japanese Prime Minister, Mr. Noda, quietly left the Nuclear Security Summit before its official closing ceremony after slamming North Korea, even though representatives had agreed not to discuss localized nuclear issues such as Iran and North Korea at the summit (Read Reuters report here). While many Heads of State were busy with bilateral summits and agreements before and after the summit, Mr. Noda came to Seoul quietly, had no other meetings, and left quietly. One could suspect his unusual actions may be due to the present crisis in Fukushima, but the Korean media suspects more than that. Korea and Japan share a history of wars and hatred, and extreme right-wing nationalism has been growing in both nations over some of the unresolved issues of the past. No one truly knows the reason other than Mr. Noda himself. 

Incheon Airport

The Politics of Fear and the Culture of Numbness

Returning to Seoul after spending 2-3 weeks in Fukushima, I am always overwhelmed by the emotional distance and the depth of brokenness between the two nations compared with their physical closeness. Fukushima seems to have long forgotten by world media, but the fear of radiation often surfaces in Korean media, as in Tokyo or other parts of Japan. At the same time, as I talked with a few friends in Korea over lunch or coffee this past weekend, the Korean people do not seem concerned about North Korea's rocket launch plan in Seoul, I sense more than fear of radiation; there is also fear coming from the past. Koreans fear what Japan might turn to in dealing with its neighbouring nations out of this ongoing national crisis. The mass-irritation and deep anger toward Japan felt by my own people in Korea makes me wonder at the bizarrely high level of silence and numbness with regard to the current situations with our own brothers and sisters beyond the 38th Parallel North. 

I cannot really speak into this century-old hatred between the two nations, as one who did not experience the atrocities of the Japanese occupation or of the Korean war. All I can say as a Korean is that we need to work toward building a shared future of "shalom," a true peace that is not simply a passive silence. And it must begin here and now. No more waiting.

A Memoir of Hiroshima: No More! Because I was a victim...

A lot of anger and resentment in Fukushima has triggered the anti-nuclear protests more strongly than the efforts to regenerate economy and community. I've been wondering about this for several months now and knew the answer was in the recent history of Hiroshima and Nagasaki where the previous nuclear disaster was related to the wars.


To help us navigate future direction for transformation of Fukushima, Midori and I decided to learn deeper historical roots and wider social contexts of this nuclear crisis in Fukushima - the largest national crisis in Japan since the WW II. Thus we felt a trip to Hiroshima and Nagasaki seemed like a necessary step before we could move forward, especially for my trip to Chernobyl a few months ago opened our eyes that nuclear crisis is not simply an energy crisis. In Hiroshima, we went to visit a local church whose pastor has been involved in the peace movement for over four decades now.   


Hiroshima Tobu Church of United Church of Christ in Japan

Children playing at the front yard of the church

Rev. Tsukishita has been ministering this church for over forty years. American Missionaries from USA who came to work at a women’s mission school started the church in the 1930s, before World War II. After the war when all the American missionaries left Hiroshima, Tsukishita’s father came to this church. Tsukishita was only two years and eight months when the atomic bomb was dropped in Hiroshima. His memory of the disaster comes mostly from what he heard from his brother who was five years old at the time.

The Sun is Falling Down!

The two brothers were playing outside their home on August 6^th, 1945 when the older brother said, “The Sun is falling down!” and they were blown away in the heavy wind blowing from the descending bomb. The atomic bomb dropping from the sky looked like a giant red ball, resembling the sun, to the eyes of witnesses on that day. The two children survived that day but the real struggle of fear of death and radiation sickness was just starting. For many years the Hiroshima City government announced a list at the end of December of the people who died of radiation sickness that year. The fear of death became especially real in the mind of young Tsukishita after a 12-year-old girl, who was at the same age as Rev. Tsukishita, suddenly died of radiation.

Growing up with such strong fear, Tsukishita sensed a growing desire in his heart that he wanted to help people remember this tragic historical event. After becoming a minister, he started a peace movement because he wanted to overcome the disaster not by anger and resentment, but with a renewed heart for peace building and reconciliation. He started teaching young people with puppets to help them remind the tragedy of Hiroshima. In addition to this initial peace movement, he also started organizing events and seminars, and prison-visiting ministries. 

“Love one another,” the greatest command of Jesus, the ultimate peacemaker.

A turning point came in his peace movement when he visited Seoul, Korea in 1981. He was walking at Tapkol Park where the declaration of independence was publicly read on March 1, 1919 by the rising Korean elites. These elites were largely Christians who had been organizing underground national movements in the 1910s and 20s against Japanese occupation.  Tsukishita heard a Korean elderly man shouting in Japanese behind him, which made him realize that he was not only a victim of the war but also an offender. For the first time, he saw the other end of the tragedy and started helping Korean Hibakusha, (Japanese for atomic bomb victims) in Hiroshima.

Rev. Tsukishita

 Tsukishita, the seasoned peace activist, says there are two ways of peace: “Pax Romana means simply absence of war, a society quieted by the control of those who have power. It is a reactive peace movement. But the truce peace movement, or proactive peace movement is different. It is not a controlled condition from outside, but it is rather a condition of heart, actively seeking wellbeing of others, by loving them and serving them because Jesus commanded, ‘Love one another.’” In the quiet but assertive voice of Rev. Tsukishita, the power of love and shalom is clear. This is the voice of a wounded healer. 

Peace movements aren’t just about creating the loudest noise of “anti-“ campaigns, but rather are about sowing a small seed of sacrificial love or act of service in the heart of the other, according to Reverend Tsukishita. The sacrificial act of loving others starts small like a mustard seed, but it grows large and bears fruit. That’s what he hopes after forty years of quiet, resilient work for peace in his home city, Hiroshima. 

No more pain, no more suffering.

As a young victim of the atomic bomb, Tsukishita’s deep motivation of starting a movement for peace was his determination: no more pain, and no more suffering. However, he has now realized that human power alone is never good enough to build peace. “I feel very sorry for what happened in Fukushima for I couldn’t do anything for them to prevent such a tragedy again.”

No More.

This “no more” is very powerful. Wherever we encounter volunteers rising up amongst disaster victims, this common sentiment is the backbone of everything they do.  I am again witnessing story after story here in Fukushima from people who now selflessly love their neighbors because there was someone who had gone before them to prepare the way of this sacrificial love.  

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

(John 15”:13)

the Old and the New: A-Bomb Dom under renovation

Peace Boulevard in Hiroshima - a rare scenery of urban landscape because most cities are built around narrow streets in Japan.

Pray-Listen-Act: the Strategy of Transformation

The story of 3/11 Fukushima must not end as tragedy. It is only the beginning, and that's what I keep hearing from the local churches we've been visiting. The course of history in Fukushima is changing because of these faithful followers of Christ.

As I was listening to people's stories here in Fukushima and watching TV programs on the 1st anniversary of the disaster, one thing was very clear to me. The faces of Christians are brighter with smile and joy and their voices carry determination of hope and strength coming from Jesus. There is no energy of anger and bitterness. Of course people remember the day, March 11, with great sorrow and grief. But a true lament before the living God, the righteous and true loving Father, gives birth to a new life of hope as the author of Lamentation wrote several thousands years ago.

I'll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness,
   the taste of ashes, the poison I've swallowed.
I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—
   the feeling of hitting the bottom.
But there's one other thing I remember,
   and remembering, I keep a grip on hope.

(Lamentations 3:19-21, The Message translation)

This week I've been privileged to hear some of the precious stories of transformation, small seeds of sacrificial love growing in Fukushima. I will share stories in the next few days, but here are some faces shining with gratitude and joy. 

Two brothers, thankful for a new family of faith

A pastor excited with prophetic imagination to rebuild an entire village

A fearless mother encouraging other mothers to not fear radiation

A community volunteer and church leader, giving thanks for losing (!) his job on March 10, 2011 as it was God's providence for making him available to serve his suffering neighbors

A relief worker who finds joy in listening to stories of victims finding encouragement through her love and care

Midori and her colleagues have been faithfully walking with these local churches for the past year by praying and listening together as a way of discerning where and how to act.

We would like to offer the same tool to many others as we are all part of this grand story of God's redemptive work in our hurting world. I would specially like to invite you readers to join us in prayers this weekend, as a group of us gather in Fukushima for a very special day of prayer and listening. Please click here to download a prayer guide for Fukushima, the Healing of the Land.

The Death of Trust

Asahi poll shows that most Japanese people distrust their government (click here to read). 

Fukushima has surfaced back on world media as Japan held the 1st anniversary of the disaster as a nation-wide commemoration of the 1st anniversary of the disaster. Here's an well crafted article, The Death of Trust in the Economist (click here to read) In that article,

Mr. Noda [Prime Minister] says, rather blithely, that “everyone has to share the pain of responsibility” for what happened at Fukushima. Indeed, much of society, excluding an anti-nuclear fringe, happily accepted the “safety myth” that enabled Japan to cram 54 nuclear reactors on one of the world’s most earthquake-prone archipelagos. But if people bought the myth, it was because successive LDP governments, ministries, big-business lobbies, media barons and university professors sold it to them.

Safety Myth. 
That is one side of the double-edged sword in dealing with aftermaths of this triple-disaster. Everyone simply believed that it would be safe. Most evacuees we met on this journey to Fukushima told us how powerless they have felt when this myth shattered a little over a year ago and when TEPCO and the government kept silent and moved slowly.

Censorship.
The other side of the double-edged sword is the deceit and delay of communicating information on radiation. The same article above mentions below:

Possibly the most sensitive source of popular disquiet relates to information on radiation. This was partly held back to avoid causing panic. In some instances that may have been justified—though experts like Tatsuhiko Kodama, head of the Radioisotope Centre at the University of Tokyo, say there was no excuse for the bogus assurances that there was no risk to public health. “What makes me most angry is the censorship,” he says.

The anti-nuclear protests that have been spreading like a brush fire in the whole country carry a lot of anger, bitterness and resentment not simply because of what happened in that devastating disaster, but more importantly because of how the disaster response was handled by the government and authorities.

Nowhere to turn for help, not even to the government elected through democratic processes.  In the eyes of most secular Japanese that's what this one year has been, and how they feel when 'the gods of nature' cruelly punished the humanity. And it is only we humans needed to look after ourselves.

Is that the end of this tragic story one year after the triple-disaster?

Fukushima, in the Eyes of the World (3)

Continued from NHK News 7 (English) on March 11, 2012

Anti-nuclear power protests spread throughout Japan

Fukushima, in the Eyes of the World (2)

Continued from NHK News 7 (English) on March 11, 2012

A nation-wide problem of storing radioactive waste

Fukushima, in the Eyes of the World (1)

One year after the Great Tohoku Disaster, here's the latest numbers:

Death: 15,854 (1,605 in Fukushima, no death from radiation) 
Missing: 3,155
Evacuees: Over 60,000 households
 
The following clip is from NHK News 7 (English) on March 11, 2012

Nuclear accident according to TEPCO 
and the problems of radio-contamination.

3/11, 2:46 pm - Iwaki Station, Fukushima

Japan observed the nation-wide 1 minute silence today at 2:46 pm to commemorate the anniversary of the Great Tohoku disaster. Midori and I stopped at the train station in Iwaki after church.

Iwaki Station Square, view from the street

Nagasaki - a detour en route to Fukushima

March 8, 2012 - Nagasaki, Japan

It's my fourth visit to Fukushima and this time it includes a detour in the south via Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Why Hiroshima and Nagasaki? We want to learn how Christians engaged in restoration of communities and cities after the atomic bombing at the end of World War II and bring that learning to and for Fukushima.

Today Midori and I spent most of the day to walk around the city of Nagasaki to learn its history, culture and people and visited a couple of museums, including the 26 Martyrs Museum. The museum was opened in February 5, 1961, on 364th anniversary of the crucifixion of the 26 saints in Nagasaki. It was the very first official persecution on Christians in Japan, and only to be followed by thousands and thousands more shortly after that.

It was an inexplicable moment. Horror, sorrow, awe, reverence, and gratitude. This is best I could describe the movements of my emotions. St. Paul Miki, one of the 26 martyrs, a Japanese Christian said to his offenders as he was dying on the cross:

All of you who are here, please, listen to me. I did not come from the Philippines. I am a Japanese by birth, and a brother of the Society of Jesus. I have committed no crime, and the only reason why I am put to death is that I have been teaching the doctrine of Our Lord Jesus Christ. I am very happy to die for such a cause, and see my death as such a great blessing from the Lord. 

At this critical time, when, you can rest assured that I will not try to deceive you and I want to stress and make it unmistakably clear that man can find no salvation other than the Christian way. The Christian law commands that we forgive our enemies and those who have wronged us. I must therefore say here that I forgive Taikosama (Hideyoshi). I would rather have all the Japanese become Christians. 

(From Luis Frois, Martyrs Records, 1597)

Soon after this tragic event took place on the hill of Nagasaki, the rich and the powerful started to build a tight control over foreign trade as they were afraid of Christianity being further spread to Japan. So they built an artificial island, Dejima, to keep all foreigners (Portuguese first then Dutch as part of their East Indian Company trade) on that small area of 120 m x 75 m (9000 square meters, a fan-shaped island with only one bridge to the mainland) and controlled all the trade routes to a small port in Nagasaki. They wanted science, technology, education, weaponry from the West, but no Christianity. 

Japan was a newly unified nation by the warlord Hideyoshi who invaded and kept the war with Korea for seven years, with an ambitious plan to take over the mainland. He died only a year and a half after he ordered the 26 Christians to be killed in Nagasaki. Since mid 17th century Japan closed itself to the rest of the world for over 200 years in fear of the growth of Christianity in its homeland. Some Christians fled to Macau and majority of other Christians went underground. Because of this persecution, Japanese Christianity quietly grew in its unique and authentic form during this dark age. Bibles that were translated to Japanese were all burned and there was no priest to shepherd this secretly growing community. They often carried Buddhist symbols with Christian symbols hidden deliberately so their faith would not get exposed to outsiders.

I stood on the second floor of the captain house in Dejima, where captains of Dutch East Indian Company trade ships would come and stay. Looking though the window, all I could tell was the passage of time. The small artificial island is now completely locked in by the expansion of the city, after surviving the atomic bombing.  I could only see the hills behind the Nagasaki Customs building as if this hidden history is now completely surrounded by the modern urban noise.

 Midori and I walked to the warf and wandered around a bit along the water. This quiet water is enclosed by gentle hills. Honestly, it is hard to believe how much this little narrow port carried the tragedies and silence for the last 500 years or so.

 

On the plane coming to Japan last weekend, I was overwhelmed by the thought that it's been only twelve months since the disaster happened last March, and we've experienced so much and Japan has been going through a quiet crisis again. What will the future hold? We do not know. 

One thing I am grateful though is that Nagasaki already taught so much about the resilience and unwavering faith of our forefathers and mothers who gave us more than enough to find ways for Fukushima's future, and perhaps for the rest of us, too.