“And What Do You Do?”: Self-Introductions (自己紹介) and Relating the Missionary Vision in Japan

If you’re a missionary or hang out with any very long, especially those in industrialized countries, you’re sure to hear the idea of “platforms” discussed.  This refers to a kind of service that acts as an entryway to gain an audience, or to legitimize one’s presence with a user-friendly category. 

For the record, I don’t think it is too difficult with God’s leading to find a basis and opportunity for being able to share the gospel, and it’s not my desire to make excuses for being a missionary. It is the second situation of being more easily understood that I’m focusing on here.  See, if they don’t have an accurate understanding of the label ‘Christianity’, ‘missionary’ sure ain’t gonna get too much traction without some fleshing it out.

In Japan, titles on business cards are especially important so people can know each other’s place in the hierarchy and therefore what register (linguistically, as in politeness level) to use with each other.  Also, the prestige of one’s group, that is, company affiliation, usually overshadows the particular job description.  Form over function, style over substance, and all that.

Of course, with this trump card you can easily outrank everyone in the room.

Unless we’re talking about relief work or straight-up street preaching (yee-haw), just introducing oneself with “I’m a missionary” can often seen as somewhat haughty or at least off-settling to the listener.  Even I often kind of distrust people working as church professionals.

If you’re not too sure, try it sometime and see what reaction you get, either from indigenous people or your own post-colonial countrymen.  Unless they are fellow believers, it tends to quickly shut down the conversation with a sledgehammer of awkward silence.  You might as well title yourself “Bringer of the Flame of Enlightenment and Civilization.”  Feel free to go ahead and add “apostolic” before it as well.  And “Great White.”

As little as I remember from Communications class in college, one of the central precepts was that communication is not about talking, but about being understood.  In the Perspectives on the World Missions Movement course, somewhere I think in the midst of the chapters on emic/etic ethnography, there was a lesson on how the missionary role can be perceived connotatively by different peoples.  It could simply be as stranger or foreigner or curiosity.  Or perhaps “Two-Faced Burner Down of Our Culture.”

In missiology as in daily life, what message is received depends entirely on the perceptions and categories the listener has about such terms.  It would be wonderful if we could set aside our worldview or lenses and, let’s be real, entire cultural upbringing for a moment in order to be more objective about things, but who does that? As David Hesselgrave, missiologist and missionary to Japan, phrased it, “It is as though their glasses have become a part of their eyes” (210).

Even in our own culture we feel the need for fancy names these days.  When I worked at the library, I wasn’t a librarian or even reference librarian, but a Library Service Specialist.  Doing data entry, I was an Indexing Specialist, brimming with clerical expertise.  We see such self-important titles in abundance today as we become more status-conscious.  Often we are ashamed or embarrassed of what we really do, either because it falls short of our personal dreams or doesn’t match up with the expectations of societal norms. 

In your adopted culture, what are their traditional vocational categories?  Of course, being involved with orphanages, prisons, refugees, non-profit advocacy, and other such direct charity-type work hardly needs any further label or explanation.  And generally speaking, missionaries with ‘tent-making’ credentials can bypass the awkwardness of such conversations: “Oh, you work for a church?  So… you’re getting paid to tell me about God and the Bible?  Interesting… and is that commission-based?”  (Get it?  Commission-based!  Matthew 28?  Anyway…)

But what if you don’t fit into a neat, secular category in society like teacher, businessman/salaryman, entrepreneur (hardly less pretentious-sounding than missionary), writer, musician, student, or metaphysician?


Sick People Don’t Need Doctors

One’s role is best understood in relation to what service or product – basically the solution – one provides.  Let me suggest we look more closely at just exactly what kind the missionary job description entails in the discipleship process and how to reformulate the title in light of that.

Japan has the second or third largest economy in the world.  Anyway, it’s rather affluent.  It doesn’t need our American monetary aid or clothing and food packages, thank-you-very-much.  Though they do have a tendency to buy advanced aircraft and anti-ballistic missile systems and such from us.

The popular image usually presented of Japan is one of serene perfection, a utopia of nature and technology in harmony, albeit with some extremely disturbing cartoons.  Most Americans have that sort of fuzzy picture in their heads, with Godzilla and sushi and cherry blossoms figuring prominently in the foreground.  Of course, scratching the surface, reality is far different and the effects of sin are far-reaching, distorting relationships away from love and acceptance to that of distrust, bitterness, and resentment.

I’ve written about some of this in greater context in other articles, but from a missional point of view let’s take a glance at the issues facing Japanese society and families today, many of which are familiar to Westerners in our own culture:

-Fatherlessness (or ‘Father-emptiness’ as one of my students phrased it).  Even though many families stay married (at least until the kids are out of the house), most fathers are either pressured to work long hours for the sake of appearances or simply because they don’t know how to relate to their family.
-Severe emotional and communication barriers in marriage.
-Lack of conflict resolution skills, inverted hierarchy, discipline, fear of confrontation, etc. in parenting.
-Aimlessness, ennui (existential apathy), and anomie (alienation, purposelessness from breakdown of norms) among youth; a growing lack of civility, propriety, etc. in what has been a traditionally a very conservative Confucian culture.  Young men especially grow up with very little sense of masculinity, spurring labels like “herbivores.”

On top of those family problems there are more general symptoms:

-Epidemic levels of suicide; consistently over 30,000 a year, or once every fifteen minutes. (Interestingly, South Korea recently surpassed that).  Suicide is the leading cause of death among youth men and women.  Most people have been impacted in some way by a friend or family member who has committed suicide.
-General depression and hopelessness; few seek to discover meaning in life in the midst of a materialist society.
-Phenomena like hikikomori (acute social withdrawal), where people shut themselves in isolation often for years or decades; some estimates number over a million young people are afflicted with this condition.
-A growing “school phobia” (toko kyohi) kind of withdrawal.
-Japan is the number one provider in child pornography.  Teen prostitution, abortion, etc. are also prevalent.
-Christian terms like “God”, “sin”, or “eternal life” have completely different meanings in Japanese making it problematic to communicate effectively.
-Idol worship is ubiquitous, making for deeply-embedded demonic strongholds.
-Japan is less than 1% Christian, one of - if not the - largest unreached people groups in the world.

The government and traditional agencies cannot provide solutions to these kind of sociological issues because at their root these problems are spiritual in origin and therefore require a spiritual solution.  A material worldview has no adequate category for understanding and responding to moral issues.  They have no context to recognize these as ramifications of sin, let alone to perceive the salty application of the gospel. 

Expressing the kind of needed ministry envisioned by the missionary must take into account these spiritual issues.  When social norms are in disarray, to properly diagnose them in the context of a gospel-informed, Jesus-centered lifestyle, we have to examine the underlying worldview factors, unraveling the implications of a materialist/karmic worldview, exposing these false belief systems to the light of the gospel, addressing questions of identity and community, self-perception, a sense of security and belonging.


Be Sure to Pack a Hefty Theological Tool Kit/Medicine Bag

Now that we have a more refined sense of the job description, we can proceed to find a fitting title.  One could call this community/campus outreach or apartment ministry something, but those vague-sounding categories only make sense to other Christians.  In the process of facilitating community, assessing needs, networking churches and ministries, however, it does make sense to see our work to some extent in respect to traditional neighborhood associations (隣組 or 町内会). 

Others like Hesselgrave have made the same observations about the relatively stagnant communication/relational model of a top-down corporate-style church compared to the free-flowing cooperative, participatory model of the traditional neighborhood associations.  Then there’s the discussion meetings (座談会) and group counseling sessions (法座) that Soka Gakkai and other burgeoning cult groups employ in addressing the need of potential converts to belong to a dependable group with a strong leader.  Who could argue that such values as camaraderie, kojo (close fellowship), jitafuji no kyo (no distinction between people), sogo-shinai (mutual love), shinrai (confidence), kyodo (collaboration), rentaisekininkan (sharing of responsibility), are not needed in today’s society (502, 608-609)?

The clouds of suspicion by the receptor audience are only dispelled when they see us with a clear and credible identity/purpose in the professional world so that trust can begin to be established.  The more concrete, the better.  Like, “I’m studying people’s opinions on spiritual beliefs, like the effect different beliefs have on youth people and families” or “I’m working with a church to understand more about the impact and implications of the New Religions on Japanese society.” 

One could also consider it along the lines of holistic (transcendental? existential?) counseling.  Or perhaps intervention, preventive, or relational counseling.  Not that that will necessarily make a lot of sense to your friends and supporters back home in the States.  If psychiatry sounds too daunting, perhaps “advocacy work” works?  Much of missionary work is about highlighting the outstanding needs of segments of society. 

There is much overlap to be found in the area of counseling and applied or even pastoral theology (I find the term ‘practical theology’ redundant).  Hayao Kawai, president of Association of Japanese Clinical Psychology, which I assume is as thoroughly secular-humanist as American psychological associations, sees mental health and a realized identity with a spiritual backdrop:

“ ‘In your country, individualism is at first really based on Christianity.  Even though you do what you like, you never forget about your God.  God is looking down, like an ego, judging you.  But in Japan, there is no God but the ie,’ and no one to judge but the group. ‘Westerners have a long history of becoming individuals, and you have established how to create relations with others. But we don’t share that experience in Japan … I often think that our challenge now as Japanese is to come up with a new way to become individuals without relying on Christianity’ ” (Zielenziger 69-70).

Interesting, Dr. Kawai’s choice of words.  To rely on Christianity (as one would a crutch) strikes him as out of the question from the get-go.  He seems to take it for granted that such a belief system may work fine for the rest of the world, but is incompatible with Japanese culture.  Or, more specifically with ie (家), which is sort of like household.  It’s the extended family system including ancestors, not unlike the Roman household cult with its accompanying religious rites (sacra familiae).  Well, to some extent it is true that the ie and Christian worldview are mutually exclusive, since the gospel does repudiate the Buddhist-Confucian system of ancestral rites.  I discussed this a good deal in the Halloween article on O-Bon.

Though Dr. Kawai might be over-generalizing about an outdated 1950s view of America as a “Christian” nation, that’s neither here nor there.  He might also think the same theological backdrop applies for Europe and therefore lump the West together as a culture of individualism derived from a Judeo-Christian worldview.  I won’t argue with that, but if so, what does that say for the East?  Is he implying that the East has never had a tradition of individuated identity?  (It’s certainly not to be found in Sankhya Hinduism or Buddhism.)  If so, it sounds like he’s got an uphill battle to try to discover individuality in the East if it hasn’t yet sprung up in the past few thousand years.

Which is not to say that it isn’t true that Asians feel more constrained by modesty and their peers, making them reluctant to put forth their view or ability in public.  As Hesselgrave points out, the Japanese don’t even have a standard word for the first person due to the overarching important of hierarchy of status in the Japanese language.  Even the word for an “individual” is subsumed by notions of relationship (in the case of jinkan, kanjin, and aidagara).  And then there’s the constant stamping down on individual dissenting opinion by the powers that be in Japanese society; maintaining harmony often just means to bow to whatever the boss wants. 

On the other hand, the individualism of the West and of evangelicalism has certainly run amok. As a corrective, Hesselgrave suggests a welcome approach for Asian converts dealing with their wary families.  Instead of bracing for inevitable rejection as a pioneer-cum-martyr, one could first explain the ideal of the Christian family at harmony with God and one another, apologize for not having been a dutiful son or daughter, etc., and then commit to being a better son or daughter, etc. with God’s help (606).  After all, new converts are the main point of Christian contact (missionary) to their families.

Getting back to the tangent, it just goes to reiterate that there is a significant cultural and conceptual gap for the missionary to bridge in helping to familiarize people to unconventional concepts like, say, monotheism or missionaries or, apparently, “I.” 

Of course, a firm grasp of the target language, indigenous religions, and worldview are essential prerequisites in learning to be incarnational.  But showing up as an ambassador or representative has plenty of nonverbal elements.  Much of our cross-cultural explaining is best done through action.  Loving service, for example, speaks for itself.  What would it be like to answer a question about one’s church with “We provide prayer and spiritual blessings for our families and neighborhoods and community.  We sing protection over our city.  Ultimately, we seek to transform communities through lifting up the light and life of God’s Word”?  If that seems like a priestly or shamanic function, that’s because it is.

I probably would not identify myself as a shaman as such, tempting though it might be to dress up like Dr. Strange.  But neither would I hesitate to assert that Christians have assess to vastly higher power than shamans, as we are called to fulfill our function as priests of the new covenant, interceding for the lost. 


Like Name, Like Status

It’s a shame we can’t go back to the colorful epithets, sobriquets, and naming conventions of yesteryear, like, say, “Jack Shepherd”, “Edward Longshanks”, and “Beren One-Hand.”  With names like “Ivan the Terrible”, “Crazy Horse”, “Ethelred the Unready” or “Joe the Plumber”, you kind of know what you’re getting. 

I think “Daniel the Rhymer” has a nice ring to it, something of the old raconteur or perhaps rakugoka (落語家).  Unfortunately, in spite of my background in acting, accents, and general wordsmithery, we don’t really have a place in our society today for the minstrel bard (invoking the Holy Spirit as muse), unless it’s at the Renaissance Festival.  Although, in some parts of the world we still have pirates around, so who knows. 

Storytelling guilds and folk societies are quite popular these days.  I think of Garrison Keillor.  I think of my college professor who sat on his desk and wove narratives that inspired me to change one of my majors to history.  In other words, I would commit myself to listening to Garrison for hours on end because of his consummate skill and artistry.  I obviously trusted my history professor enough to shift the course of my studies.  What could be more cathartic and compelling and persuasive than Jesus with his parables? What is the gospel but an incarnational life-giving proposition within story form? 

We must be careful in our storying to always relate the narrative back to the larger story that encompasses God’s plan in salvation history.  Needless to say, the task of communicating the gospel is not so simple as to present five quick steps to heaven – a gross distortion and mishandling of culture, worldview, the reasoning of the carnal mind, and the gospel itself. 

But take heart.  Our authority is in the timeless book we carry.  God has purified His Word seven times (Psalm 12:6) and magnified it even above His Name (Psalm 138:2).  It is a fire and a hammer and a sword (Jeremiah 23:29; Hebrews 4:12).  As long as we don’t get in the way too much (like with our overly Westernized systematic theologies), it’s pretty effective all by itself (Isaiah 55:10-11).  The Word of God was not meant to be studied academically or exegeted in a classroom, but rather to be fruitfully sown forth in the day-to-day intersecting paths of our work and needs and relationships (Deuteronomy 6:6-9).

It would serve us well to speak half as much as we listen and listen half as much as we pray.  Before telling your own anecdote or parable or biblical story, survey your friend for her favorite folktale.  Whether in Japanese or in English as a second language, the tone, gestures, nonverbal cues of method acting, and a dialogue loop of feedback are great in helping along the listener’s understanding of unfamiliar words and concepts.  If you can do it to the beat of a drum around a campfire, even better.

This all implies a diligence in mastering your craft.  If you want to hit a target, you can surely run up and throw your arrow at it.  Much more effective is to first string it to the bow and let fly.  Our goal is to penetrate the tablet of people’s hearts with words of spiritual life.  To be a shaman in one respect literally meant to enact ritual dances.  To be the oral interpretative bridge that is the missionary means to share and enact the gospel as a story-teller. 

Of course, that often carries with it the expectation that people might still look at you funny, no matter what public identity you end up with.  (Like the neighbor association’s priestly, story-telling, ethnographic relational counselor.)

Which reminds me of one time when I was helping out at one of those ubiquitous “International Cafés” that Japanese churches put on for outreach.  English conversation and coffee being the draw (read: bait-and-switch) to get people to come into the church for a gospel message.

As people entered, they would first get name tags.  I would usually do a little drawing and add some colorful effects to mine.  Yes, that made me stand out a bit in a culture that idolizes conformity, but what you see is what you get. 

Next to me, a Japanese guy I knew asked if I could decorate some graphics on his too.  Sitting at the name card table, however, was a more straight-laced Japanese church girl.  She frowned at this practice, probably making some remark about my profaning of the honorable name tag.

“You don’t like it?” I asked.
“It’s weird.  Why do you have to be different?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, and thought for a moment.  “Maybe God made me that way?”
She sniffed.  “I don’t think so...”

Honestly, if I had been wearing a pirate costume, I don’t think it would have changed her opinion of me.



References:
Hesselgrave, David. Communicating Christ Cross-Culturally.
Zielenziger , Michael. Shutting Out the Sun: How Japan Created Its Own Lost Generation.

Some Recommended Reading:
John Piper, Don’t Waste Your Life.
Ralph Winters, ed. Perspectives on the World Christian Movement: A Reader.
Roland Allen, Honor and Shame.
Ruth Benedict, The Chrysanthemum and the Sword.
http://www.simon-cozens.org/content/making-friends-teaching-english-and-post-colonialism
http://www.simon-cozens.org/content/counter-contextualization-keeping-our-saltiness

敷居はどのくらい高いのでしょうか？ (“How High is the Threshold?”)

That’s the phrase I have printed on my name card.  It’s meant to be thought-provoking, like an ice-breaker.  Based on feedback from Japanese friends, I assume I got the grammar right.  It comes from a lesser known Japanese idiom, 敷居が高い (“The threshold is high”), referring to how a person might feel bad in visiting someone that they haven’t kept in touch with for a while.  In order words, it describes the hesitancy someone feels in such a situation. 

It also applies to how Japanese typically view visiting a church or becoming a Christian to be a daunting proposition.  Their perception is that the entrance requirements are too high to come in, like the image they might have of being burdened with a lot of church duties on top of their already loaded work schedule, etc.  But I’d like to focus a little more closely at some of our assumptions about religion and what the threshold (or ‘entrance requirements’, if you will) to Christianity is really like.


At Ease on the Broad Path

When thinking of religion, Japanese might naturally consider themselves to be in the “no religion” category (無宗教), as they say, simply because they don’t have to commit to any kind of active beliefs in being a part of the cultural Buddhism, Shinto, and Confucianism that surrounds their daily lives.  For them, there is no threshold at all for these religions because by birth they are automatically logged in the family register at the local temple, etc.  No creed or membership covenant or tithe or some other measurable act by which to determine their being included in those religious systems.  By contrast, the idea of Christianity to their popular imagination looms ominously foreboding, like the massive stairs and portal to some Gothic cathedral: one actually has to believe in something. 

The Buddhist monk and poet Saigyō Hōshi (1118-1190), dwelling on the spiritual center of Shinto devotion at Ise Shrine, composed: 何事のおわしますをば知らねどもかたじけなさに涙 こぼるる。

What is enshrined I do not know,
But the awe of a sense of gratitude
Brings tears to my eyes.

Quite lovely.  I realize it’s rather succinct in the simple poetic style, but the natural question is: for what or to whom is the gratitude directed?  Was there any content or knowledge to his devotion or was it just a vague feeling?

Imagine if you saw me in the park crying tears of joy and asked me, “Hey, are you okay?  What are you crying about?” and I replied, “Oh, I don’t know really.  I’m so grateful.”  “Grateful for what?”  “I’m not really sure.  Just grateful for something, I guess…”

It sounds touching and sublime at first hearing, but under closer examination the feeling becomes not just ineffable, but incoherent.

To the Asian mind, Buddhism is pretty wide open, a tolerant wonderland of come-as-you-please.  Consider the Pure Land sect of Buddhism.  Originally from India, after a few hundred years the Pure Land teaching spread to China.  Shan-Tao (613-681) wrote in the Hanju Panegyric*, “The sharp-edged sword is another name for Amitābha.  An invocation of the name absolves one from all sin” (Nakamura 495).  Wow, talk about your get-out-of-jail-free cards.  Again, on first hearing, it sounds pretty easy.  Sounds a lot like Christianity, in fact...

Centuries later in Japan, Hōnen (1133-1212) took up this theme, which his disciple Shinran (1173-1262) further developed into the present day form of the doctrine in Jōdo Shinshū or “True Pure Land Buddhism” (as opposed to False Pure Land?).  Simply reciting the invocation of Amida Buddha’s name (the namu-Amida-butsu or nembutsu) just once, like an abbreviated Sinner’s Prayer or the gohonzon of Nichiren, is sufficient for one to be reborn into the Pure Land. 

It’s not quite as tolerant as it sounds though.  The Shinshū sect of the Honganji (Original Vow) order were known as the “followers of the gate” (monto) for their “closed door policy” (Nakamura 482).  Both Buddhist orders and Shinto sects are known for their “characteristically sectarian exclusiveness” (Nakamura 486, 487) – each of them apparently sure that they alone possess the one, true key for unlocking the secret of knowing how to get rid of sin and be allowed into heaven.

Nichiren, for example, founder of another extremely influential Buddhism sect in Japan, thought that the nembutsu was of no effect in getting rid of sin, and opposed other sects quite violently.  “Those who practice invocation to Amitābha,” he famously declared, “are due to suffer continuous punishment in hell; the Zen sect is the devil; the Shingon sect is the ruiner of the country; the Ritsu sect is the enemy of the country.”  He even believed himself to be a reincarnation of a bodhisattva (Buddhist savior).

So the question is, how did Shinran know that nembutsu was true and using this fetishist formula would work?  According to his own words, he didn’t! 

In his Tannishō (“Tracts Deploring Heterodoxies”), Shinran confessed, “I do not know whether the nembutsu is actually the means to rebirth in the Pure Land, or whether perhaps it is the road to Hell.  Even though I were cajoled by Saint Hōnen that I should go to Hell through the nembutsu, I should do so and not regret it” (Nakamura 450).

To this I would say, and please excuse my French, what the hell?  It sounds more like a teenage lover’s suicide pact than something a rational person would consider.  Instead of rigorously examining the object of his faith, he relies solely on the authority of his master, trusting that Hōnen was right about matters of eternal salvation, who in turn trusted in Shan-Tao...


What to do with a Broken Compass?

Here’s what I don’t understand about Pure Land Buddhism.  Are sins so inconsequential and easy to be wiped away?  Is Amida so powerful that he can just wave his hand and – poof – goodbye sins?  How does he erase the stain of our evil thoughts and actions and words?  I presume these Pure Land guys (as well as Muslims believing in the blanket forgiveness of Allah) have given due consideration to these questions somewhere in their voluminous works and commentaries on the sutras, but so far I haven’t read it.

How do we understand the deep stain of sin?  Emperor Daigo (885-930) once composed, “At the bottom of Hell there is no real difference whatsoever between the members of the Imperial family and slaves.”

In the same vein, Shinran is perspicuous enough to have stated about himself, “There is no end of evil nature, Man’s mind is as abominable as a viper” (Nakamura 515).

How reminiscent of Jeremiah’s word, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?” (17:9).

Also, Paul’s language in Romans 3:10-20, quoting various passages from the Old Testament:

As it is written: “There is no one righteous, not even one;
there is no one who understands;
there is no one who seeks God.
All have turned away, they have together become worthless; there is no one who does good, not even one.”
“Their throats are open graves; their tongues practice deceit.”
“The poison of vipers is on their lips.”
“Their mouths are full of cursing and bitterness.”
“Their feet are swift to shed blood; ruin and misery mark their ways, and the way of peace they do not know.”“There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God. Therefore no one will be declared righteous in God’s sight by the works of the law; rather, through the law we become conscious of our sin.

It is therefore indeed remarkable that Shinran had the insight that he did in understanding his sinful condition.  Self-reflection begins with honesty or sincerity, honesty begins with humility, and humility with brokenness.

Admittedly, these are not typical traits of the Japanese.  Dr. Hajime Nakamura, noted scholar of Hinduism and Buddhism, writes, “It may be rightly asserted that, generally speaking, the Japanese are not at all very sin-conscious and that this fact is tied up with the this-worldly tendency of the Japanese” (518).  He goes on to talk about shame-consciousness centered around one’s particular social nexus. 

The Bible speaks of Creator God as Lord of Heaven and Earth.  Sin is only rightly understood as sin when seen as a personal offense against our Maker.  All of us have come under the universal curse of sin and shame and the condemnation of God, no matter how much we may try to ignore it with apathy (無関心) or suppress such knowledge with our unrighteous lifestyle.

In the Dhammapada we read of the need to wake up, to pay attention to spiritual matters: “Earnestness is the path of Nirvana; thoughtlessness the path of death.  Those who are in earnest do not die; those who are thoughtless are as if dead already” (9, 4).  When we find that our compass is broken, self-reflection and soul-searching is a good beginning.


Seeking the Right Road Sign

So as Shinran and his fellow Shinshū “followers of the gate” were excommunicating those who had different beliefs, the idea was clear that truth, by definition, is exclusive. Either Amida Buddha is the way to find forgiveness of sins or he isn’t.  Every religion makes claims as to knowing the truth about reality and the human condition, and therefore denying the opposing claims of other religions. 

Islam therefore inevitably posits, “And whoever desires other than Islam as religion - never will it be accepted from him, and he, in the Hereafter, will be among the losers” (Qu’ran, Sura 3:85).  Buddha similarly states, “Now in this doctrine and discipline, Subhadda, is found the noble eightfold path, and in it alone, Subhadda, is the man of true saintliness.  Void are the systems of other teachers – void of true saints” (Mahaparinibbana Sutta 5,62).  Moreover, even within Buddhism, the claims of the Theravada sect and Mahayana sect are fundamentally in opposition to each other, not to mention all the sub-sects. 

If one person claims to have found the key to a lock, obviously that means that other keys don’t work.  Contrary to Wumen’s Zen idea of the “Gateless Gate” (無門関), thresholds are inevitable.  To put it another way, if you were to invite me to a party and offer me a map with directions, it would ignorant and silly for me to wave it away, “Oh please, those directions might be fine for you, but I don’t need that.  I’m sure if I’m really sincere and just keep driving I’ll eventually find the place.”

The Pure Land Followers of the Gate at least got one thing right.  They knew the gate to truth would have to be narrow, but they had no confidence that they had chosen the right gate. 

Jesus’ admonition then would have made perfect sense to them: “Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it” (Matthew 7:13-14).  狭い門からはいりなさい。滅びに至る門は大きく、その道は広いからです。そして、そこからはいって行く者が多いのです。いのちに至る門は小さく、その道は狭く、それを見いだす者はまれです。

I would claim that Amida, in fact, is not the way to be forgiven and go to heaven.  Buddha himself would not have believed in such categories, much less that he as a man could do what is required to offer anything like salvation.

“The Lord Buddha continued: "What think you, Subhuti? Do you imagine that the Tathagata reflects within himself, 'I will bring salvation to all beings'? Entertain no such delusive thought. And why? Because, in reality, there is no such dharma as 'salvation' for any one; and there is no such thing as a living being to whom 'salvation' can be brought. What is referred to as an entity, a being, a living being, a personality, is not so in reality--it is only so understood by ignorant and uneducated people” (Diamond Sutra 25).

Contrary to the claims of the Pure Land sect, Buddha himself was straightforward in explaining that he was not to be depended on for salvation.  In another place in the Dhammapada, we have, “By oneself the evil is done, by oneself one suffers; by oneself evil is left undone, by oneself one is purified. The pure and the impure (stand and fall) by themselves, no one can purify another.” (6,5).

From Buddha’s final speech in Mahaparinibbana Suttanta: “Rely on yourselves and do not seek any external help” (2, 33) and again, “Those who, relying upon themselves only, shall not look for assistance to any one besides themselves, it is they who shall reach the topmost height.” (2, 35)  “Buddhas do but point the way – work out your salvation with diligence.” (Humphreys 120).

Jesus, on the other hand, has provided sufficient and compelling evidence of his identity as not only the way to truth, but truth itself.  He evidences that he is indeed the one true God.  And as the living God, he demonstrates his ability to forgive our sins against him and give us new hearts (Luke 5:17-26; John 10:37-38; 14:11). 

Some people prefer to mock and ask dismissively, “What is truth?” (John 18:38).  It is far easier to scoff away the notion than to face up to the convicting realization that my life falls short of how I ought to have been living.

Author and pastor, Dr. Curt Daniel puts it well:

“Jesus is the answer.  He is the truth.  And He alone is ultimate truth.  Furthermore, He is the truth, not one truth among many.  These powerful words stand in stark contrast to the silly idea, ‘That’s true for you, but something else is true for me.’  Jesus is the ultimate truth for all mankind.  One more thing: Jesus tells us that ultimate truth is personal, not abstract.  Truth is a person, not a principle.  So, then, the answer to the search for the meaning in life in not merely in right doctrine, but in the right person – Jesus.”1

Truth then is not just some man’s opinion, differing according to each person, or merely something that is to be abstracted and theorized about.  In Jesus, truth is ultimate and unique. 


Entering the Narrow Gate (狭い門)

We can read of Jesus interacting with a wide variety of people, knowing their thoughts, healing them, speaking words of kindness and compassion, teaching great spiritual truths, casting out evil spirits with a word.  He had firsthand knowledge of heaven, since that was his throne.  When he was about to return to heaven, one of his disciples asked him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” 

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).

It is because of this that the early Christians were first known as Followers of the Way (as in 基督道 or just 道).  See Acts 9:2; 16:17; 18:25-26; Acts 19:9, 23; esp. Acts 24:14, 22. 

And again Jesus said:

“Truly, truly, I say to you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who have come before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them.  I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. […] The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:7-10).

“We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; but the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (Isaiah 53:6).
 
Jesus alone provided up his own perfect life to be sacrificed on the cross in place of our lives so that the righteous standards and perfect justice of God would be satisfied (Hebrews 10:10, 14, 18-22).  In doing so, he made the way open for us to be reconciled to God if we would repent of our sin and trust him.

This is verified in the historicity of Jesus’ death and resurrection.  The fulfilled prophecies, the empty tomb, and the eyewitnesses whose testimony was sealed by their martyrdom all compel us to discover the fact of the resurrection trustworthy.  Not that I need any such proof; I know personally that he is the way because of how he confronted me, and has forgiven me of my terrible and shameful sins against him and how he has experientially changed my life. 

The threshold of being separated by our sin from relationship with God is very high indeed.  Jesus was kind enough to lay down his life as a bridge for us so that we could be reconciled to God.  Now the main barrier remaining is simply our stubborn pride that would keep us from repenting of our sins and accepting his gracious gift of new life.


Selected References:
Humphreys, Christmas. Buddhism. Harmondsworth, England: Pelican Books, 1951.
Nakamura, Hajime. Ways of Thinking of Eastern Peoples.  Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1964.

1. http://faithbibleonline.net/MiscDoctrine/IsJesusChristTheOnlyWayToGod.htm

*“Hymns praising Birth in the Pure Land based on Samadhi”.  Also called Ekangyo Tomyo Hanju Zanmai Gyodo Ojosan, or simply Hanju-san.