Every year in August, about 100 or more people descend on the little town of Kashima, Japan for the annual summer training event sponsored in part by the Aiki Kai, the primary organization of the art of aikido. For me, it was a time mixed with a good deal of laughter, sweat, pain and anxiety, especially if you were not a yudansha (black belt). My first time was in 1997 and I was not prepared for the rigorous three-day event. In my ignorance as a foreigner, I neglected to plan, assuming there there would be things that I didn't have to buy, like fresh water. I only brought one uniform...huge mistake because August in the southern part of Honshu, the main island of Japan, is sweltering and damp...as was my gi every day. Nothing like getting up at 4:00 a.m. and donning a soaking wet gi.
I also didn't anticipate the vast number of aikido practitioners, much less the varied levels of experience. All classes at summer training started with either the ken (wooden sword) or jo (quarter staff) followed by instruction by the teacher; in this case, Isoyama Shihan. Imagine sitting in a Japanese martial arts training hall that is over 100 years old, one side with over 1000 tatami mats, the other highly polished wood floors where the kendo classes were held. The surrounding grounds were immaculately groomed and you could tell there was much care and detail in every aspect of that place. It looked like something out of an old samurai movie.
Of course, there are many things about summer training that I'll never forget. Like I said, there were over 100 people at this event every year, all Japanese except for the very small contingent of Americans from Misawa. And while I ran into a few older men who were not fond of our presence there, the majority of people were genuinely happy to train with us and have us participate. Despite our language barrier, I came to understand enough Japanese to converse and I had some pretty fascinating discussions with people from all over the country, typically over beer after a long day of training. The constant theme was this: "We're happy and honored to share our art and culture with you." We talked about lot's things: politics, daily life, jobs, martial arts...and faith. We all complained about how tired we were, but it was a good kind of tired.
After three grueling days, the event culminated with a run through the the city and a blessing at the Kashima Shinto Shrine, which is well over 200 years old. I'd never seen or been a part of a Shinto ceremony before. I have to admit, the first time was a little uncomfortable because I felt a tinge of guilt given my Christian faith and beliefs. However, I really came to appreciate these moments and I found lots of similarities between Shintoism and Catholicism, for example; incense, candles...intense prayer. Oddly enough, my faith deepened tremendously during my experience in Japan. I credit much of this to having my world opened up, especially at events like summer training where I met some of the kindest, most genuine and yes, faith filled people I've ever known. Maybe not my faith, but faith nonetheless. And they acted on that faith, be it Buddhism or Shinto. And guess what? We share a common theme: be kind to one another. Try your best to be a good person.
The Bible is very clear when it comes to salvation; there is only one way to Heaven and that way is Jesus Christ. This is hard for non-Christians to understand and it's equally hard for many of us in the faith. Given experiences like this, I simply cannot share the harsh view held by some of my brothers and sisters, that most of these people who were so kind and welcoming are probably going to end up in Hell due to their lack of faith and belief in Christ. I believe in scripture and the words handed down by the prophets through God. I read the Bible daily and try to live up to the unattainable standards. I believe in the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirt.
However...
There are mysteries we simply can't solve on this side of the dirt. The one thing that the most faithful Christian or the most ardent Atheist doesn't know is what happens after our eyes close for the last time. No one knows except for the Father and people who have passed. If I believed in some preachers I've heard and gave credence to the convictions of a few very religious people, then my first wife, one of the most Godly women I've ever known, would be in hell right now because she wasn't baptized again after birth. Many argue that baptism at birth doesn't count. No way. I know where she is. And I know who she's with. That's not wishful thinking, nor is it adding to or taking away from biblical teaching. It's as simple as this: I know. And...I know what I don't know. Every time I went to summer training, I was humbled by what I didn't know. That is a lesson I try to spread throughout my life, especially faith.
Three men on the cross; the one to the right of Jesus went to paradise without ever having stepped foot in a church, didn't go to bible study, probably never heard a sermon. He certainly wasn't baptized before he died. But the man in the middle said he could go. That's grace beyond all understanding. Nobody really knows until we close our eyes for the last time. So...
Let's treat each other with the same kindness and sincerity that I experienced in Japan from people who, for the most part did not share my faith but lived theirs. Let's try to remember that if we don't want to be judged, we can't judge either. Boldly express your faith, but don't be so sure you know everyone's fate. We don't, Thank God. Let that be your guide for how you treat others.
The word, "hope" appears 130 times in the Bible. I think it's mentioned so often because we're not supposed to know everything. Hope is the foundation of love and faith. I live in the hope that by God's grace and mercy, we all end up at the table.
Dave Magliano
Tatsu Dojo
Jissenkan Budo
Dojo Cho
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