Visiting a Buddhist Temple

Christmastime is here, and I have safely arrived home to Ontario. My trip went well and I especially enjoyed my 8 hour layover in Tokyo airport. I took the opportunity to visit the city of Narita, outside Tokyo, and do some sightseeing. The main attraction is the Buddhist temple and some shops around it featuring Japanese souvenirs. People flock to this temple on a certain date in winter, because on this date one prayer is worth a thousand in their quest for good works earning a better next life. It was cool to see a different part of Japan, but the most memorable portion of my visit occurred around 1:30 pm, when I was tired and feeling ready to return to the airport. Instead, I paused on my way to the bus stop to watch a worship ceremony in the temple. I didn't understand what was said but I watched people kneeling in honor of Buddha, offering their purses to a priest who held them briefly over a flaming fire, throwing money into an offering, and bowing their heads in prayer. Outwardly, the motions are (somewhat) similar to Christian worship. Inwardly, so little is the same. When I kneel to pray, I honor a God of love who knows me and accepts me as I am. I am not trying to earn His pleasure through good works. When I offer my purse (and no, I don't hold it over a flaming fire, but I do like the symbolism of offering God our wallet, which is sometimes so tough to do), I give because He has first given so much for me. When I bow my head to pray, I am earnest because I know God really hears my prayer and will act on my behalf, doing what, in love, He knows is best for me. And I can listen to Him, and speak with Him as a friend, because His Spirit lives in me. I walked around this temple singing an old kids' song, "God's not dead, NO! He is alive..." and prayed that God would reveal His love and truth to the Japanese people who are bound in worship to a god who, in statue form, is dead, and who, in spiritual reality, is the father of lies that hates them through and through.

I will be thinking of this at Christmas, as I remember how God showed His love for us, coming to earth Himself as a tiny baby, living among us, taking our sin, and dying a death we deserved. He rose and lives as King of Kings forever, and I am called His daughter. Wow!

I have the greatest respect for people who practice this religion. Those who do so with dedication are earnestly trying to do what is right. Their discipline in worship surpasses mine at times. And yet, I long to sit down and talk with them. I want to know if their hearts are satisfied by the teachings of Buddha. I want to know if they live in peace, confident that what they believe is true. I want to know if they trust and love their god, or if they serve him out of fear and duty.

I can only trust what I have heard others say, and what I have learned in own study comparing religions. There is no god like Yahweh, who loves and forgives and accepts, while maintaining His own holiness and perfection. For me, there is no one but Jesus Christ to whom I will kneel, for whom I would hold what is dear to me over the "flames" (symbolic, for me, of giving control of everything to Jesus), and with whom I will converse through prayer. I will offer Him my life, because He has offered me His.

Merry Christmas!