From strangers to sons

When I first arrived in Japan in June 2023, I had no church community, no settled home, and no clear idea of where to begin. I had left academia and was working as a day trader. Japan was unfamiliar, and although I had faith in Christ, I did not yet know where to root myself spiritually.

Through a series of connections that I now believe were guided by God’s hand, I arrived at the JEMA office and met one of the staff members there. She told me that a friend was the daughter of a pastor leading a small church near where I was staying. That church was Shonan Christ Church in Kashiwa, Chiba.

Translation as a lifeline

The church had originally been founded by English-speaking missionaries, but it had transitioned to Japanese-only services. Upon retirement, the senior pastor passed the church into the hands of a younger Korean-born pastor.

Although the sermons were in Japanese, the kindness of the congregation and the spiritual warmth of the space crossed any language barrier. The pastor graciously shared his sermons with me each week in PDF format, allowing me to translate them and follow along more closely. That small act of care became a lifeline. It allowed me not only to understand the message, but to experience the rhythm and flow of a Japanese sermon in a meaningful way.

What makes Shonan Christ Church special is not its size or structure but its deep sense of familial love. Each member is seen and known. It is not just a place of worship. It is a place where people remember one another’s birthdays, pray over job transitions, and follow up with those who have been absent.

Connecting through language study

Through this church, I was also introduced to a small nonprofit Japanese language school run by retired teachers. Twice a month, I attend Japanese language classes taught by a teacher who generously gives her time and energy to help us learn. Her patience, clarity, and care reflect her heart to serve. These sessions have become spaces of encouragement and cultural connection.

Beyond language barriers

Through other connections in the community, I was introduced to a second church in Kashiwa called Shalom Church, led by another Korean congregation. The sermons there are delivered in Japanese. Shalom is different in form but similar in spirit. It is multilingual by nature. In one gathering, you might hear Japanese, Korean, English, and Mandarin spoken across the room. Though I only speak English, Cantonese, and some Mandarin, I have never felt excluded. Worship songs in unfamiliar tongues still move me. Prayers whispered in Japanese or Korean are often met with quiet amens from across the room, even by those who do not understand every word.

Becoming family

These churches have become the framework for my daily and weekly rhythms. Their gentle persistence in showing love, their openness to welcome others, and their commitment to prayer have influenced how I view Christian community. I am especially encouraged by those who give their time and energy to serve, even when it means sacrificing rest or comfort. Whether preparing food, teaching Scripture, or quietly cleaning after a gathering, their faith is expressed in simple but consistent ways.

Before moving to Japan, I lived in Taiwan. I was baptized there during a men’s Christian campfire fellowship that met on the first Wednesday of every month. It was in that setting—under open skies, around a fire with men sharing honestly about their battles—that I first learned how to truly converse with God. I learned to listen quietly and open my heart. That experience changed my walk with Christ. I now carry a desire to start a similar campfire fellowship in Japan, a space where fathers and working men can speak openly, support one another, and encounter God together.

As a tentmaker, I often live between two worlds. My professional life revolves around AI research and trading, but my spiritual life is grounded in church communities where shared meals and small acts of kindness carry the presence of Christ. It is in this space, between translating sermons, sharing conversations after worship, and offering quiet prayers before sleep, that I have come to know God more intimately.

Through the quiet example of multilingual churches in Japan, I have learned that ordinary faithfulness can be powerful. These communities have not only welcomed me but taught me what it means to belong. I was once a stranger. Now I am part of the family.

Photo submitted by author