by Elizabeth Ann Boyles | Aug 9, 2021 | Far East Tidbits, Sometimes I write about...
A major Japanese Buddhist festival takes place in August called Obon. It has beautiful aspects of family reunions, local gatherings, and lantern spectacles. Yet there is a troubling side for Japanese Christians.
Obon is one of the three most important annual festivals in Japan. It speaks powerfully of devotion to family. However, this may include honoring the spirits of the family’s ancestors. The day for reverencing one’s ancestors has a long, long tradition in Japan, existing even before Buddhism arrived in the country in the sixth century A.D. An ancient idea was that the living family members could offer their good deeds on behalf of the dead, who they believed were in agony—hanging upside down in hell. This offering would open hell so their ancestors’ spirits could be released..
Many of these original beliefs have evolved or entirely disappeared, and new traditions have grown up. Now families often light a lantern in front of their house or a candle at their altar to guide their ancestors’ spirits home for a short four-day release. During this time, they may offer food and prayers at gravesites, update the spirits on recent happenings, and attend a temple with the recitation of Buddhist scriptures. The celebrants may also take part in a neighborhood folk dance. At the end of the festival, in order to assist the spirits in their return to the other realms, many families—some of whom are just following traditions rather than beliefs—send small boats carrying lanterns and foodstuff down streams, leading the spirits to the ocean.
Observing Obon is a strong tradition even for those who are not Buddhist, for it speaks of care and respect for one’s elders while providing some interesting activities. For those people who find comfort in the idea of their deceased loved ones’ homecoming, it is an extremely significant festival. The lanterns and boats also offer a wonderful spectacle to everyone. However, Christians understand that the root of the festival’s traditions is contrary to their faith. They believe the spirits do not really visit, could not be helped by material offerings, and should not be prayed to as powerful beings.
The third book in the Dragonfly Trilogy attempts to show the Obon dilemma for the main character. Without giving a spoiler, I can say that early in the story, she does not deal well with her family’s visit to the gravesite.
When I lived in Japan in the 1960’s, I participated in a neighborhood Obon folk dance, having been assured by my Christian friend that it had no religious connotations. I’m not sure even now if that was the case. But this shows how hard it is for a foreigner like me to understand and explain the festival. For this overview, I relied on a little book by Tatsumi Hashimoto for the historical information and additional pastoral insights.[1]
During this year’s festival, may the Lord give wisdom and strength to the Christians as they show love, care, and respect to their families while avoiding the appearance of ancestor worship.
[1] Hashimoto, Tatsumi. Ancestor Worship and Japanese Daily Life. Tokyo, Japan: Word of Life Press, 1962.
by Elizabeth Ann Boyles | Jul 9, 2020 | Far East Tidbits, Sometimes I write about...
In order to share this photo, I did a little research on the “Lucky Bamboo” sitting there on my genuine bamboo stool, which we shipped home from Japan fifty years ago. I found the plant is a fake, not related to genuine bamboo at all! It’s actually dracaena sanderiana, a houseplant that can grow in soil or water. (I wondered why I couldn’t find any dirt under the pebbles and water in my plant’s pot.)
Now, it turns out that it’s lucky I accidentally bought the houseplant because I’ve just learned there’s lots to love about real bamboo and one BIG thing to hate, at least in certain situations.
First, what’s to love? Genuine bamboo, which is actually a species of grass is extremely fast-growing, flexible, and stronger than steel by weight. It can be used to make flooring, fences, giant scaffolds for constructing buildings, hundreds of utensils, even fabric. If a bamboo forest is harvested, the plants grow back in just a few years. Bamboo can be woven into lovely artwork, and the shoots (when treated) are edible, as we know from eating in Asian restaurants. A breeze blowing through bamboo causes a lovely clacking sound. Bamboo is so useful and beautiful, it is sometimes called a “miracle” plant, bringing to mind our Intelligent Designer.
Now, why can bamboo be abhorred? There are two general types of bamboo: runners and clumpers. Runners are the villains in city yards. There’s a saying: “The first year, bamboo sleeps; the second year, it creeps; the third year, it leaps.” The plant appears docile for the first two years, but its devious root system is expanding underground like crazy. The third year, sprouts may pop up several feet away from the original plant and may wreak havoc in neighbors’ yards too. The clumping type is much more manageable, but the runners are often sold in nurseries—buyer beware.
That said, the deep admiration people feel for bamboo in Asia, where it grows abundantly, can be seen not only in the evergreen bamboo groves cultivated in parks and temple grounds, but also in paintings, folktales, and proverbs. A Japanese proverb says, “The bamboo that bends is stronger than the oak that resists.” This truth can be seen in martial arts when the master bends with his opponent’s attack and then utilizes the opponent’s strength.
Bamboo figures in my first book in one scene. Sumi, who is irrepressibly curious, hides behind a clump of bamboo to spy out a romantic couple. She is shocked to see lips touch in a Western-style kiss. Before she can discreetly move away, she observes a crude man strolling past with the scholar her grandfather wants her to marry. This discovery causes Sumi to take a big risk—one she later greatly regrets.
Have you owned a “lucky bamboo” houseplant or had a grove of real bamboo in your yard? I’d love for you to share any experiences you’ve had with bamboo.
by Elizabeth Ann Boyles | Jul 31, 2019 | Evidence for Faith, Sometimes I write about...
Today on the news, I listened to the account of a senseless, fatal shooting in California. The Dallas Morning News described more tragic loss of life locally. Death is our final, great enemy. Even Jesus wept for the deep heartbreak it brings.
Recently I read an account by Ruth Graham (Billy Graham’s wife—both now deceased) about how God touched one family during a terribly difficult time of loss.
Robert Armistead visited his elderly mother every day at a Nashville hospital, where she lay close to dying. During this time, his seventeen-year-old son Robin came down with a strange fever. Robert didn’t tell his mother about the illness in order to keep her from worrying about her dearly-loved, oldest grandson. Robin unexpectedly died after just a few days of sickness. While preparing for the funeral, Robert still didn’t tell his mother what had happened and worked hard to keep his bedside manner as natural as possible, thinking Robin’s passing would be too much for his mother in her fragile condition.
Returning to the hospital from the funeral, he found his mother in a coma. He sat by her, knowing it was the end. She came out of the coma, smiled at him, then became unconscious again.
While he watched her, her eyes opened a second time, with a “look of wonder.” And here’s the quote: “I see Jesus,” she exclaimed, adding, “why there’s Father and there’s Mother . . .” And then, “And there’s Robby! I didn’t know Robby had died . . .” Her hand patted her son’s knee gently. “Poor Bob [her name for Robert] . . .,” she said softly, and was gone.1
The Scriptures tell us that death is swallowed up in Christ’s sacrificial victory. Jesus’ resurrection, the eyewitness accounts—verified by their willingness to suffer rather than deny their message—and his followers’ changed lives, then and now, provide all the evidence we really need, yet isn’t it encouraging in the face of so much darkness to hear about the times God gives an extra peek into the hereafter. I’m sure you too have heard accounts like this.
[1] Graham, Ruth Bell. Legacy of a Pack Rat. Nashville: Oliver-Nelson Books,1989.
Photo by John Towner on Unsplash.
by Elizabeth Ann Boyles | Jul 4, 2019 | Evidence for Faith, Sometimes I write about...
I love to hear and read about remarkable answers to prayer. Here is one of my favorites.
Edith and Francis Schaeffer believed they had been led to Switzerland in the mid-1950’s to use their lifestyle and message to show that God truly exists. Yet, they received an official notice that they were being expelled from the country. A few local people had objected to the Schaeffers’ Sunday service and outreach. Others in the village strongly supported the Schaeffers, but the government said the family could stay in Switzerland only if they found a place to live in a different area. When they received the notice, very little time remained before the deadline to leave.
During the last possible day to find a new house to rent, Edith, in tears, realized that only God could provide the place. All the places she and Fran had looked at were either unavailable or too expensive. In the last thirty minutes before she had to go catch the train, a real estate agent, who had ignored them in the past, called to Edith to come with him to see a three-story chalet part-way down the mountain from the ski resort where she had been looking. The place turned out to be ideal, but it was for sale! They didn’t have any money, and besides that, who would buy a house when threatened with expulsion from the country?
After an hour of fervent prayer that evening, Edith startled herself by praying a very unusual and almost presumptuous prayer. She asked that they would receive $1000 by 10 a.m. the next morning if God really wanted them to buy that chalet. That amount, which would be toward a down payment, was really a great deal of money back in 1955.
The next morning, the postman met the Schaeffers on the way to the train. Edith opened a letter from an American couple who had never sent money before. They had enclosed exactly $1000! Later Mrs. Salisbury told Edith they had prayed for three months about how to spend the unexpected money her husband had received at work. One night they reached the conclusion that it should be sent to the Schaeffers for their work with young people. The couple immediately drove through a rainstorm to mail the letter at the main post office, feeling they shouldn’t wait until the next morning.
Only God could have orchestrated the perfect answer to Edith’s prayer, as the letter had to cross the ocean, be for the exact amount, and arrive at the precise time! I’m also struck by the purpose underlying this answer because the prayer verified the Schaeffers’ path for their life’s ministry.
The photo of the Dents du Midi in the Swiss Alps shows the mountains that could be seen from their chalet. Thanks to Vladimir Nordmann, who posted the shot on Unsplash.
This answer to prayer and stories of how God worked through the Schaeffers’ new alpine home can be found in L’Abris by Edith Schaeffer. It’s written in English and available on Amazon. 
by Elizabeth Ann Boyles | Jun 18, 2019 | Sometimes I write about...
Have you ever been lost? Not just confused by directions, but really lost and having no idea how to find your way? In one of the stories I’m writing, a character becomes lost in the back alleyways of Shanghai. While writing about this, I empathized because back in 2002, I got lost in Shanghai.
The team of Dallas Baptist University students and I had gone shopping with our Chinese guide to a tourist area far from the campus where we were staying. There were lots of stalls along the street, and the whole group stopped to look at some wares. I looked at the scarves in a stall right next to where the group was—just a yard or two away. When I looked up, the whole group was gone. I looked up and down the street. They had flat disappeared.
I walked in the general direction we’d been going, thinking I’d see them momentarily. Nope. I even stood in the middle of the small street’s intersection, making myself conspicuous. The Chinese people ignored me and walked past. No Americans were in sight.
I thought about taking a taxi back to the campus, but then the group wouldn’t know where I was when it came time to meet at the end of shopping. They would probably wait for me and not leave the area, not realizing I had gone to the campus because I’d gotten lost and didn’t know where to meet them.
So, I had to find the group. Believe me, I was praying nonstop.
After about an hour, I walked down a main street, looking for someplace that might have an English speaker. I came across a small hotel and entered. While I was trying to explain my problem to a kind person who didn’t really speak English, I glanced out the window, and two DBU students were walking past.
It turned out they had gotten an urge to see the area outside the walled-off place the group had entered to shop right after I’d gotten separated. I was the group’s professor, but tears of relief poured down my face as they smiled at me. I believe those two guys took an exploratory walk in answer to my prayers.
The topic of getting lost makes me think of the Parable of the Lost Sheep. The sheep probably didn’t intend to get lost, but there he was—separated. The Good Shepherd didn’t wait for the sheep to come home. He went out to look for him because He knew the sheep couldn’t find his way back.
How wonderful to know that God answers prayer and rescues us. First, through the cross when we accept Jesus as our Savior. And next, by His presence with us, even when lost in the biggest city in the world.
Shanghai image credit: Photo by Hanny Naibaho on Unsplash.
by Elizabeth Ann Boyles | Oct 30, 2017 | Sometimes I write about...
Is Halloween 
a pagan holiday? Should Christians celebrate it? I admit my October 31 birthday makes me partial to the day. I grew up enjoying some memorable birthday parties. And as an adult, I often joke about being “bewitching” when someone remarks on the date. But those two questions caught my interest, and finding good answers has been challenging. You see, most historians would say Halloween developed from a lot of pagan beliefs, overridden gradually by scientific discoveries and Christian ideas.
The real fear that underlay the holiday’s origin was nothing like the shivers intended by costumed monsters ringing our doorbells or the creators of modern haunted houses. The ancient Celtic people in France and Great Britain, where Halloween started, believed in several gods, including the sun god and the god of death, who ruled the winter. Imagine the people’s fears as the days grew shorter. Was the lord of the dead gaining power over the sun god? Would he call up ghosts and witches? The people believed that October 31, marking summer’s end and winter’s beginning, was especially perilous. That night was said to offer a doorway for vengeful spirits to enter the world of the living. Not a comforting thought.
Now how did we get the unique Halloween customs? The custom of wearing costumes can be traced back to how the Celts wore animal skins and masks at the site of huge bonfires in order to frighten away those evil spirits. People also believed that cr
iminals, such as murderers, came back to earth as black cats after they died. Today’s decorations of paper black cats, witches, ghosts, and skeletons are probably rooted in these ancient beliefs.
When Christianity came to Europe, people began to learn that the One Creator God loved them and offered safety through all the changing seasons and challenges of life. The churches honored the memory of especially good Christians each November 1st, called All Saints’ Day. Since October 31 was the night before the holy day, it became Hallowed Day Eve, or Halloween, removing some of the spooky connotations. However, the idea of ghosts and witches was slow to die out, and the belief that they were especially active on October 31st continued for a long time.
The jack o’ lantern started with an old Irish story about a mean man named Jack. Supposedly, he tricked Satan into promising not to accept him into hell. When Jack died, the tale claimed that heaven also rejected him, so his spirit had to wander the earth. He used a lantern made from a gourd with a candle in it. Pumpkins are easier to carve, so we put a candle in a pumpkin and call it Jack’s lantern, or jack o’ lantern.
What about trick-or-treating? For a while after Christianity came to Europe, quite a few people had the wrong idea about getting into heaven. The common folk didn’t know much about the Bible before its distribution in their language and the invention of the printing press. Not realizing that their entrance into heaven would be certain if they received Jesus as their Lord and Savior, people sometimes tried to accumulate merit by piling up prayers and good deeds, hoping to get into heaven that way. Children went to rich people’s homes and promised to pray for their souls if given a “soul cake.” In an unrelated tradition, the Irish suspected fairies of playing tricks on Halloween. So, trick-or-treating may have evolved from a combination of these ideas.
Now back to the original questions. We’d probably agree that in most people’s minds, the current customs have nothing to do with honoring ancient gods and goddesses, frightening away ghosts and spirits, or helping people try to earn admission to heaven. So this is my conclusion: although a Christian shouldn’t be involved with the dark side of Halloween, we can rejoice that what was once a fearful time has been transformed by a better understanding of nature and the Good News of Jesus. The holiday can actually offer a reminder of the light Christ gives—as well as provide some fun and a ton of candy for children. So I think Halloween is only a pagan holiday if someone tries to make it into one.
What do you think about Halloween?
by Elizabeth Ann Boyles | Aug 15, 2015 | Sometimes I write about...
Two weeks ago, I had an annoying trial that turned into a blessing. I bet you’ve had those, too.
Here’s how it started, ever so innocently. Our oldest grandson had expressed interest in an eventual job with computers. My husband and I thought a one-week computer camp on 3-D animation, sponsored by the University of Texas at Dallas, would be just the thing to give him a leg up. I’m not big on driving these days, but since the location was in Irving, I figured I could manage the two round trips each day. When we registered him, we found he needed a laptop for camp, so we splurged and ordered him one on-line for his birthday. All set—right?
The Wednesday before camp, the laptop arrived, AND the Irving camp was canceled that very same day. However, UTD gave the option of transferring the registration to their Richardson campus. This meant driving both ways during rush hour and my staying on campus all day.
Have you been on the President George Bush Turnpike during rush hour? First it is a RACETRACK complete with curves. Then you suddenly see red brake lights, and the speedway becomes a parking lot, only to repeat the breakneck dash and the turtle crawl several more times. This kind of driving may appeal to young daredevils, but for an OLD person like me, it was hair raising. I claimed Luke 12:32 over and over: “Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom.” (NIV)
But this experience also held blessings. Foremost was the time spent with Riley, enjoying his dry sense of humor, even about the traffic that had the audacity to be on the highway with us. Secondarily was the discovery of a goldmine of books in the UTD library about the Edo Period of Japan. Even books published in the nineteenth century were in the library’s main stacks. These gave me badly needed details for the novel I’m working on that is set in 1859 Japan.
God brought us through safely. Riley liked the camp and was able to program animation for the beginning of a video game. I experienced how God could turn the keenly felt disappointment of the Irving cancelation into a large, unexpected blessing.
But I’m not hankering for any more time on that tollway.
by Elizabeth Ann Boyles | Mar 14, 2014 | Sometimes I write about...
My favorite flower, daffodils, are in full bloom here in North Texas. Lots of people like daffodils because they are harbingers of spring and the release from winter’s cold grip. However, my love of daffodils began years ago in a high school English literature class, partly due to a terribly boring series of essays we’d been reading—and I mean booooring. When we finally finished that section in the textbook, I turned the page. A stunning photo of a field of golden daffodils introduced a poem by Wordsworth. One thin page had transported me from awful essays to interesting poems—they really were much, much better than the essays. We’d moved from parched desert to lush fields, so to speak, and I’ve loved daffodils ever since.
Yesterday, I took this photo at Dallas Baptist University, where I’ve been feasting my eyes on the flowers for a week or two. Happily, the deep freeze didn’t damage them.
Next will come regal irises and a plethora of wildflowers: bluebonnets, Indian paintbrush, pink primroses, and red clover, to name a few. Since I don’t have a green thumb, I’m particularly appreciative of the wildflowers that sprout up without all that gardening effort.
Another reason for loving daffodils and all the rest of these flowers is their connection to one of my favorite Scripture passages, Matthew 6:28-33. Jesus asked His followers why they tended to worry about such things as clothing when the Heavenly Father arrays the short-lived wildflowers with more beauty than that of a king’s robes. Truly, no clothes from even a ritzy store like Niemen Marcus can match a flower’s artistry.
Next time you get a chance, look at a daffodil up close, take a whiff of spring itself, and be reminded of its Creator, the ultimate Artist.
by Elizabeth Ann Boyles | Dec 7, 2013 | Sometimes I write about...
Three weeks ago, we lost our “grandpuppy,” an adorable, “rescued” Pomeranian. Our broken-hearted daughter had to have Jiggy euthanized because of a painful, incurable condition. After some tears, I lay awake that night, mulling over nature’s food chain and all the sad succession of death in animals. I finally told the Lord I’d trust Him without the answers to my questions and went to sleep.
The next morning I had my Quiet Time as usual. I’d been reading in Colossians, but happened to open to the fourth chapter of Jonah. Jonah was uptight with God (as admittedly I was) and complained about a vine that God had provided and then removed. The Lord pointed out that Jonah was upset about a vine he had not created. So, the Lord asked, shouldn’t He care about the vast number of people in Nineveh He had created? (That’s why He’d sent Jonah to them with a life-saving message.)
The application to my life was obvious. Jiggy’s death was a sorrowful event (far more than a vine’s), and not to be discounted for a minute. But I mustn’t forget that Christians have the life-saving message for people, who also face death. God—through Jesus—reached down to rescue mankind and give us a never-ending relationship with Himself. Our loving Heavenly Father sees and cares about all that happens to us. He answers prayers to provide for our needs. He has a new heaven and a new earth (with lions and wolves living peacefully with lambs) in store for everyone who accepts His saving gift. I needed to be reminded of the Big Picture.
(And if it’s possible and acceptable when the time comes, I’ll ask our Heavenly Father, who isn’t limited by our time dimension, to transport a healed Jiggy—and some other beloved pets—to that splendid new earth. Just a thought. Any comments?)
