In the “Kingdom” at 94, I am a senior citizen.
Sometimes I have an experience like this: I see something that triggers images of an event or of a person from long ago. Do other “seniors” have such experiences?
For example, just last week I saw a disabled child in a wheelchair. From the depths of my consciousness, a scene from forty years ago rose to the surface. I saw children playing in the church yard. There were five disabled children in wheelchairs with smiling faces. It was a Saturday afternoon after the children’s “Meet Jesus” class. This class was for children of parishioners but was also open to anyone who wished to come.
But first some background. At that time, Bishop Stephen Hamao was at the helm of the Yokohama diocese. Our bishop’s constant theme was: “Let us be an open church, a welcoming church, a missionary church.” He used those three words.
At times our bishop gave us practical advice. For example, he told us: “Most of our church halls are not used on weekdays. Let it be known that they are available free of charge for those who wish to use them.” So, on Saturdays our hall for the “Meet Jesus” children’s class was open to all. The hall was also used (at different times) by a day nursery, by choirs, by AA groups, and once by a Buddhist monk for a funeral of a local resident.
But back to the surfaced memory! I saw five disabled children being gently carried from a big car to the church— children waiting in their wheelchairs, with large smiles on their faces.
The man responsible for the child transport was Yamada-san. At a sharing meeting of the church men’s group, he told us: “As you see, I have a big car with very generous horsepower. Speed used to be like a hobby for me. The toll road to Nagoya was my speedway. But after my wife died so peacefully in the church’s embrace, I re-considered my way of living. Now I get far more enjoyment and satisfaction by going around the houses to collect disabled children for the Saturday school. It does my heart good to see these children come from a rather lonely life to enjoy the company and fun with the children at the church. Their mothers also get a rest.”
That is the memory that came from the depths.
But as it happened, this was followed by another memory. One of those coming to our Saturday school was a young girl from the neighborhood. Her father was known as a Yakuza gang member (due to his visible tatoos). He wrote us a letter saying: “Thank you for the warm welcome that you give my daughter at your church. At her school she is teased and bullied. But with your children she feels welcome and experiences genuine friendship. She always returns home happy. I thank you for this healing effect.”
This kind of welcoming church, a church that walks together, is now called “synodality.” I find that concrete examples are a more effective explanation than theological shorthand.
Columban Fr. Barry Cairns lives and works in Japan.
