Relational Relief: a ministry of Holy Saturday

The Way of Martyrs: Self-denial in a culture of self-promotion 

After one year in which I visited Fukushima four times from Vancouver, what have I learned? I started asking myself this question as I reflected on the yearlong process. All I can testify is what I saw and what I heard: the powerful stories of local church reaching out to their neighbors at the cost of their own safety and material possessions (potential losses of career and jobs). I feel deeply privileged to eye-witness the grace of God flowing through the tiny small segment of Japanese population to tens of thousands of people affected by the triple-disasters.

A local church is a community of people who put their faith in Jesus Christ and follow him as his disciples with a clear mission to love God and love neighbor. This dual-love rises from a dual-knowledge of knowing God and knowing oneself. This is the backbone of discipleship process and a source of power that has transformed communities and nations throughout the centuries.

The bridge between the dual-knowledge and the dual-love is the simple yet powerful place of self-transformation: Dying to self. Jesus said, “Take up your cross and follow me” (Matt 16:24). No one goes to a place of life and glory with a cross. There is no career, no future. Your cross will take you to a place of death just as the cross Jesus took upon himself led him to Golgotha. But the death is not the end and it does not take the final victory. God raised Jesus from the dead and establishes his Kingdom on earth. The way this kingdom advances is through a new life that is birthed out of the death that followers of Jesus willingly go to - through serving others sacrificially. In some contexts this death is the physical death believers willingly accept when facing persecution (martyr, which means witness in the original Greek word).  But in many other contexts, it is more of dying to self and choosing to serve others at the cost of one’s own life.

This is the essence of transformation and what some Christian traditions call green martyrdom as opposed red (blood) martyrdom. After persecution of Christians ended in the Roman Empire, after extreme asceticism of the desert fathers (and mothers) declined in the early church history, the monastic movement was started in the West by those who renounced the desires of the good human life on earth in order to purse a lifestyle given to the service of others and of creation (that’s where the color green comes from). This is evident in the early hymns of Irish Celtic Christian traditions (before the tenth century):

We carry the cross of Christ in two ways, both when we mortify the body through fasting, and when out of compassion for him we regard the needs of our neighbor as our own. A person who has compassion for the needs of our neighbor as our own. A person who has compassion for the needs of his neighbor truly carries the cross in his heart.

Perhaps this movement of local church ‘dying to themselves’ and loving their neighbors by serving sacrificially will continue in Fukushima even after all the foreign agencies leave and all the resources dry up in the country, because these transformed people will be still there. And that’s the secret of how to turn ordinary Christians into relief workers in their own communities in times of disasters. This is genuine relief work and genuine love to the point of dying. 

Relational Relief: a ministry of Holy Saturday

The term 'Christian relief work,' however, has carried baggage for a long time because of unhealthy past mission practices, particularly of 20^th century's notions like ‘rice Christians’ and prosperity gospel. Even today, many churches and Christian organizations view relief work as platform for doing evangelism or as merely a pre-cursor to evangelism. ‘Evangelism’ is viewed the "real" Christian work whereas relief work is not good enough on its own.  

There is another view which advocates the total separation or dichotomization of relief and evangelism. Some would argue that relief work has nothing to do with evangelism or should not interfere with evangelism. Or they might say that relief work hinders from doing ‘the real gospel work’ of saving souls for heaven. In any case, the view of the gospel is reduced down to ‘saving souls for heaven’ and the way relief work is conducted in such a way that it is assumed to be only dealing with physical loss and resources like food, water, shelter and so on (the basic necessities of life). This is again a reduced and distorted view of ‘the loss of human life’ and what it means to restore and reconcile all things to God through Christ (Col 1:15-20).

We have much work to do here to overcome problems of reductionism at all fronts of our lives. We need to once more emphasize the importance of restoring right relationships in the relief work with genuine motives to serve those outside the four walls of the church building. And that is to re-imagine how relief work can be done differently: relationally, holistically and communally. That is the foundation of transformation we have encountered in local churches in Fukushima.

Offering genuine love is a witness to the greatest love received from Jesus. Relief work done with genuine motives, the ‘willingness to take up one’s cross and go’ may be a way of martyrs, and is a witness because of the hope of resurrection. This is the ministry of Holy Saturday, caught between death of Good Friday and the hope of Easter Sunday.

Ikarashi, a courageous pastor, in Iwaki boldly confesses this way:

Q. What is the attitude of people in Fukushima toward the church after the disaster?

A. Many professional people escaped Iwaki, even the mayor. The attitude of leaders caused the Japanese people to lose confidence [in the leaders]. But the church is called to testify to the glory of God – we started a volunteer centre before the government started. Church people are trying to come into the city; everyone else is trying to leave. This strengthens our relationship, and people hear what we are saying.

Q. How do you overcome fear of radiation?

A. In the days after the disaster, even Christians began to escape from Fukushima. We prayed to God, and we decided to die for the victims, because we could each discern a call (with the senior pastor and other pastors). Alone, I don’t think I could decide to die for the people of Fukushima. But God chose us, the body of Christ. It is only by his grace.

Q. Confession of willingness to die among you and the other pastors, how did you come to this? Together or separately, etc?

A. Many people lost families in the disaster and I also lost my daughter after. This taught me that we do not know what will happen even tomorrow. But the reason we share the gospel is life, eternal life. We don't know about tomorrow – but physical death is not the only goal, it is only the process. In suffering and trials it is easy to hear the voice of God. But we have to change our attitude to God, everyday, we have to obey and we have to prepare for both physical death and Christ’s return.