We are the arms of Christ

For years, my artist’s eyes have been drawn to the weathered boards, rusty tin roofs, and peeling paint of abandoned buildings. Hokkaido’s countryside is littered with such buildings, left behind in the wake of low birth rate and aging population (shōshikōreika). I like to photograph these structures. It feels like I am documenting the life of some unknown person. At the same time, my own loneliness finds expression in photos of abandoned buildings.

In summer 2022, my husband Keith and I started working in partnership with the four JECA¹ churches in Sorachi, a fertile valley bridging Sapporo and Asahikawa filled with rice and soba fields, apple trees, and sunflowers. The region has seen sharp population decline, and there are many elderly people here. From shuttered shopping streets to battered farm houses, I find ample material for my photography habits. I wondered, given the circumstances, if church members felt lonely or isolated, and if so, what could be done to help.

To try to find answers to this question, I talked to six people in two churches. Takikawa Church is in Takikawa City (population 38,929²) towards the north end of the Sorachi region. Their pastor, Shinsuke Tanaka, and his wife, Rumiko, have served there since 1997. Eriko was born, raised, and baptized in Takikawa. After attending university in Sapporo, she returned to teach school and take over her family’s ryokan (traditional inn).

Sunagawa Church is located in Sunagawa City (population 16,011³), immediately to the south of Takikawa. At the time of writing, Pastor Tanaka also served as advisor pastor for Sunagawa Church since their pastor died in January 2021.⁴ Mieko, the former pastor’s widow, has served there since 1999. Kayoko teaches at OMF’s Japanese school in Sapporo, but returns home to Sunagawa each Sunday to support the church. Sunagawa is Nori’s home church; after a series of job transfers, she returned to retire there.⁵

A lonely situation

The Japanese word for lonely is 寂しい (sabishii). In the world of tea ceremony, sabishii has positive connotations. Imagine a windswept mountain landscape with a rustic tea cottage—perhaps a bit like the abandoned buildings I find so appealing. No one is around except you and your host, who will entertain you with sweets and tea and join you in enjoying the natural beauty. This kind of “lonely” isn’t really lonely at all. It’s intimate and exciting, with twinges of artistic pathos.

When it comes to interpersonal relationships, however, sabishii loses these positive connotations. Loneliness implies loss of connection. In a society that values community as Japan does, it can be difficult to admit to feeling lonely.

That being said, “sabishii” was the word church members used to describe Sunagawa and Takikawa cities. Class sizes have dropped and some schools have merged. Over the 25 years of Pastor Tanaka’s ministry, the city has lost 20% of its population, while Sunagawa City lost 25%, and two of Takikawa’s six Protestant churches have closed.

Why the decline? The Sorachi region, beautiful countryside surrounded by snowcapped mountains, has clean air, clean water, and delicious food. From my outsider’s perspective, it seems like a great place to live. But there are no universities and few jobs for the university-educated to return home to. When children leave the community to further their education, most find employment near their universities. There are exceptions: city employees, health care workers, and school teachers can find job security in these small cities. Eriko was able to return to Takikawa as a teacher. Pastor Tanaka’s daughters received their nursing training locally and found work in Sunagawa Hospital, but both dream of moving to Sapporo.

Regarding children moving away, Mieko commented, “Of course it’s lonely, but it can’t be helped.”

Kayoko, who has a burden for the children of Sunagawa, told me that many church members have children and grandchildren in the area. The problem is not so much the lack of children, but that evangelizing one’s own family is difficult. Also, children in a large city church may have friends at Sunday school and even Christian classmates; in a small town with a small church, children from Christian homes may feel isolated or even be bullied at school.

Since Mieko has been there (24 years), Sunagawa Church has buried about half their members, including their pastor. The average age of members is over 70, and finances are tight. Even though Takikawa Church is younger on average, no children attend, and some important outreach initiatives are still on hiatus due to COVID-19.

Embraced by the family of God

Church members talked freely about difficult circumstances, but how did they feel about them personally?

“I have often heard Christians in small towns talk about feeling lonely and isolated. What about you?” I asked.

“No,” said Mieko, “I’m sorry; I can’t say that I do.” She smiled sheepishly. I think she knew what sort of answer I was expecting.

Nori likewise said she had never felt lonely. “I know that God is with me in times of suffering. When my husband died, God provided helpers when I needed them.” The other four interviewees were unanimously not lonely.

I was surprised. When I considered the challenges facing these two churches, I expected loneliness. Perhaps, I thought, “I’m lonely” is hard to say in connection with one’s church community. But as they talked about their churches, I began to see a picture of close-knit and loving church families.

To Eriko, Takikawa Church is laid-back and easy to enter. Her church family was a big part of her decision to return home after university.

Sunagawa Church, said Nori, is a place where she can have fellowship with others and with God. “We are God’s family.” She chose to retire in Sunagawa because of her home church. Mieko described Sunagawa Church as patient, prayerful, and generous.

Just as my loneliness shows up in my photography habits, I realized that I was looking through the lens of my own experience. Missionary life can be very lonely, especially when misunderstandings happen with Christian friends. We are vulnerable, far from our homes and emotional safety nets. In my past, church has been a cause of loneliness, not a solution. But even these small churches are doing something about the problem of loneliness in their communities. This realization convicted me of my cynicism and moved me to tears.

We are the arms of Christ

What is unique about these churches that builds community and wards off loneliness? Certainly the connection between the four JECA churches in Sorachi is significant: joint women’s fellowship, pulpit exchange, and a yearly gathering (pre-COVID). Their easy distance from Sapporo churches (one to two hours by car) also means that in challenging times, outside help is near.

But more than that, I think their secret is in cultivating a ministry of being—spending many years in fellowship and friendship with one another, and quietly inviting others into that friendship. I asked them to share their wisdom with us.

Pastor Tanaka has mastered the art of walking at the pace of the community. “Pay close attention to the people and culture of your church,” he advised. “Each church is unique. Find ways to use your own gifts and the gifts of those in your community.”

Nori suggested joining community activities. “Be the fragrance of Christ, even when circumstances do not allow direct evangelism. People will notice, and you will find opportunities to speak about faith.”

Rumiko shared tips for Bible studies with the elderly: keep things simple and short so that seekers don’t give up before they start. Give them a little and let them ask for more.

When Pastor Tanaka came to Takikawa as a young father, he connected easily with other families. Now he is nearing retirement age. “My point of view has changed. I have begun to think like an elderly person. I find it easier now to make our church welcoming to the elderly and to think of activities they might enjoy.” With his mature eyes, Pastor Tanaka envisions a simple community outreach with exercise and tea time. He showed me the beautiful homemade Christmas cards that the church will send to elderly seekers. He expects them to be well received. A personal touch helps convey the church’s warm regard for seekers in the community.

I leave you, dear readers, with words of encouragement on behalf of the Christians in Sorachi. When I talked to these six people, as I prepared to write this article, they each thanked me repeatedly for being here, as if I were a representative of all missionaries in Japan (it was unlooked for and frankly embarrassing). Even more than what you do, it is important that you are here, in Japan. Your very presence expresses the love of God and the global church for the small, struggling, aging churches where you serve, for the cities and towns where you live, and for the people living in your neighborhood. We join our Japanese brothers and sisters, becoming the arms of Christ to embrace the lonely. Take heart, friends. May your loneliness lead you to connection, as did mine.

1. Japan Evangelical Church Association/日本福音キリスト教会連合
2. 2020 figure, “滝川市　年齢別・町別・年度別人口.” City of Takikawa (Japanese website). https://www.city.takikawa.hokkaido.jp/210shimin/02shimin/05koseki-juumin/jinnkou.html (accessed Feb 20, 2023).
3. March 2021 figure, “砂川市：世帯と人口の推移.” Sunagawa City (Japanese website). https://www.city.sunagawa.hokkaido.jp/data_sunagawa/setai_jinkou_suii.html (accessed Feb 20, 2023).
4. Praise God, Sunagawa Church welcomed a new pastor in December 2022.
5. Nori’s name has been changed for privacy; all other names are used with permission.
Photo by author