Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Participation, Attendance, Service (and coffee)

Today’s coffee… was at school. 3 cups was probably too much. But considering the number of mistakes in my translation-work pre-coffee…

Speaking of coffee, it’s been hard to get to a café to write lately, since I’ve been in Japanese class every morning (and there’s a coffee pot always on, hence today’s 3 cups). By the time I get home, I’m too tired for the next several hours to do anything other than sit on the couch and stare out the window. Thankfully, Keith has finished peeling the annoying lace-patterned film off the living room window, so now I look out on a garden full of wildflowers, bamboo grass, boulders, and trees. (I think it was worth renting this house just for the garden…) So by the time I recover enough to go out to a café, it’s too late to drink coffee (and I already had 3 cups… I do want to get some sleep tonight…)

But I have been writing--a lot. Sometimes in my journal, sometimes poems which ostensibly are part of “Japanese study.” I included several poems in a short devotional talk I’m giving at our friend’s graduation from language school tomorrow. The biggest project I’ve been working on (also as part of my Japanese study) is translating my CD liner notes into Japanese. (Japanese version coming soon!!)

Translation work sucks--even though I’m just translating stuff I’ve written myself. I think it’s especially hard for those of us who are decently good at writing. Whereas I’m fairly eloquent when writing in English, in Japanese, I am not. This is frustrating. I know exactly what I want to say, and what nuance I want it to carry, and yet… Japanese is a completely different language, and some things just don’t translate. I found the same to be true when translating Japanese folk song lyrics into English for the CD liner notes.

Today I was working on the story which accompanies Rachmaninov’s Vocalise. (It’s a version of the main article in our February newsletter.) As I was expanding the explanation of what I had hoped to accomplish with my Regent arts thesis project and coming up with a translation for the title, I ran into a slight difficulty. The title is Praise the LORD with Stringed Instruments: Instrumental Music as Participation and Contemplation. After some discussion with my teacher, I translated the subtitle “器楽による礼拝への参加と黙想” which specifies that participation and contemplation happen in the context of worship. But this translation might not stick.

To give you some background, my arts thesis project was my response to a push in North American worship-leading circles for congregational participation. This has always been a big thing for us Protestants--we are the “priesthood of all believers,” so inviting everyone’s participation in corporate worship is hugely important. However, I found the definition of participation in most books I read to be troubling: most focused on doing and completely ignored being. Singing, moving, reading, speaking, and praying (out loud) were okay, but listening (sermon excepted), art which doesn’t communicate propositional truth, silent prayer and just being together in God’s presence with one's church family didn’t rate very high. Furthermore, spoken word took precedence over everything else, leaving little to no space for reflection. Therefore I explored nonverbal means of participation, especially through instrumental music, in my project. Vastly oversimplified, but that’s the basic idea.

The reason the translation of my title (and a lot of other parts of my arts thesis, if I ever get around to translating it) might not work is because, as my teacher explained, in Japanese we do not use the word participation (参加 sanka) to refer to what we do in worship. We use the word which means attendance (出席 shusseki). You don’t participate in worship, you attend worship. The most important thing is that you show up, even if you sleep straight through the service. (There was an interesting article on this phenomenon throughout Japanese society on BBC news recently. Not that I really have any right to complain about this. I was always the worst offender for sleeping in class through undergrad and two master’s degrees.)

And participation? That’s called service (奉仕 houshi), which means more like cleaning the church once a month or teaching Sunday school or taking your turn leading the service or doing your part for the church bazaar. Some kids in our youth group confessed that they didn’t want to get baptized because then they would be expected to do “houshi.”

It seems like a first step for arts ministry in Japan might be to redefine, together with my friends at church, what participation in worship looks like...

Edit: I just want to add that regardless of what it's called, many (most?) Japanese Christians do "participate" in worship. I was moved by the hearty singing at church last week. :) I'm looking forward to many conversations with friends as I seek to understand what worship means to each one.

Sunday, July 03, 2016

Green Glory

First blog post from our second term in Japan!

Greetings. It's been a long time, and we're in the midst of transition. I had hoped to be "further along" with various things by this point, but various other things happened.

(Quick update for those who are interested: we decided to live in the house our friend offered, but it needs work. We moved in on June 11. New "system kitchen" to be installed in August, currently working on stripping wallpaper in the bedroom in order to paint. Finally got a car last Friday, which enabled us to get bamboo roll shades for the living room and tea room. Meanwhile, we've been visiting various churches where we have friends, brushing up on our Japanese with a 3-month refresher course, and attending the OMF Japan field conference.)

I actually wrote the following over a month ago, on the morning of my first Japanese class, as I was preparing attempting to prepare for class. At that particular moment, this experience was a huge encouragement and reminder as to why I am here and what I ought to be doing.

Being in Japan, I have grown and changed in many ways. Japan has affected my aesthetic sense. I have learned to love (and cook) different foods. Seeing the Christian faith through the eyes of Japanese friends and in the Japanese language has given me a whole new perspective on my faith as well.

Reading hymn texts in preparation for a Japanese class, I had one of those perspective-shifting moments. My eyes came to rest on word 栄える (sakaeru), which means to flourish or prosper. This reminded me of another word, 栄光 (eikou), which literally means (as in, directly translating the kanji) glorious or flourishing light, and is a common Japanese expression for God’s glory. Many other words for glory use one of these two characters. But before I learned the noun, eikou, I learned the verb, sakaeru. You can use this word to describe what a flourishing business does, but "sakaeru" is also what a flourishing garden or a tree or a person does. In fact, the faithful person in Psalm 1 who is likened to a well-rooted tree “flourishes”--in the Japanese Bible, that’s the same verb, sakaeru.

In English, the concept of “glory” in my mind was gold-colored. (I wasn’t even aware that words and concepts went with colors for me, but apparently they do.) Streets of gold, bright light, and so on. This isn't an entirely positive connotation for me, since I prefer silver and shade… which reminds me of another delicious Japanese word, 木漏れ日 (komorebi), which means sunlight filtering (literally leaking) through trees. But I digress. I was surprised when I recalled that the Japanese word for glory included the character 栄, which in my mind was definitely green. It has a tree (木) in it, after all.

My understanding of glory was that it was something blindingly bright, unapproachable, and distant. But if I think about God’s glory as expressed in the flourishing of trees that he created, then I am in the midst of God’s glory every day. God is near. His love flourishes and grows in his creation and in the lives of those who are rooted in him. I hear God’s glory in the rustling of leaves outside my window and breathe in God’s glory in the cool forest air on a hike. It’s spring (or was, a month ago when I wrote this), so the evergreen trees have bright new growth--God’s glory grows and expands and flourishes.

Maybe my understanding of God’s glory was too small, and I needed to learn Japanese to understand it more fully. To me, glory is now a lovely shade of spring green.

Speaking of hiking, here's a few pictures from a recent hike to シャクナゲ岳 (Shakunage dake, which means Mt. Rhododendron).

Shakunage dake's namesake rhododendrons, growing on top of a big rock near the peak
The trail was rather wet.
When I think of the tree in Psalm 1, it looks something like one of these.

Friday, May 20, 2016

May Newsletter

Celia and Keith Olson
Newsletter #32, May 19, 2016

Sunny birthday hike: Celia is 35!
Dear Friends and Family,

Just a few days until we are back in Japan! We’re excited… May 23!

Over the last ten months, we have spent a lot of time pondering first what sort of ministry we will do in our second term, and then, where we ought to live. Should we choose to live closer to church, or closer to where Keith will teach? As we got to the point where we needed to make a decision about housing, I (Celia) spent a lot of time during a family vacation “praying,” as in, demanding that God tell us where to live when we go back to Japan. But I eventually felt that God didn’t want me to demand answers. Time spent together with God comes first, so I quit asking questions and started listening with all my senses. God led us one small step at a time, and although we aren’t completely certain, we think we will be renting a house near church. (We’ll send updated contact information with our next newsletter.) Please pray with us as we continue to take our re-adjustment to life in Japan one step at a time.

In the midst of seeking God’s will for where to live, I wrote this reflection on our ume (Japanese apricot-plum) tree and what it means to put down roots.

Uprooted Again

Our ume tree is getting too big for its pot. We bought it thinking that we could nurture it and enjoy it in its pot until we had a place to plant it. Our dream even three years ago was to put down roots.

It’s too cold for a potted ume tree in Ishikari, so we brought it inside for the winter, where, of course, it started blooming far earlier than anything outside—in February, when the snow was still several feet deep. We brought it into the living room to enjoy its sweet scent and beautiful blossoms. Once the petals started to fall off, we put it in the entryway since it was making a mess. As we rolled it across the living room; it released a flurry of petals—hanafubuki (flower petal blizzard) inside the house!

Blooming ume tree in our living room
Our ume tree is getting too big to move. It barely fit in our car when we dropped it off at our friends’ house for them to look after during our home assignment. I want to plant it in the ground when we go back. It needs to put down roots.

But putting down roots is a dangerous business. Remember our garden? The memory of digging up all my precious plants to make way for cars still stings. All the work I did, gone. It wasn’t “my” house. I shouldn’t care; I should be flexible, I keep telling myself. But I do care, and that’s why uprooting hurts.

We OMF missionaries are pioneers: we go to the unreached, lay a good foundation, and then move on when our ministry becomes self-sustaining. And yet, I think we make light of the tremendous investment of time and energy it takes to build relationships and really get to know a community and a place, especially in Japan. Some of our Japanese colleagues have served in the same church for decades. Is our flexibility too western for our context?

There is a tension between a godly willingness to go anywhere at any time and a godly rootedness that affirms the goodness of God’s creation and life in community. My profound desire is to stay in one place and put down deep roots. I struggle to understand if this is sin and selfishness or if it is God’s call to rootedness. I have been through eight major moves since becoming an adult, but I’m not getting accustomed to it; each move seems to be harder than the last. I’m praying that this move will be the last one for a while—that we can build deep friendships and produce fruit that will last.

Prayer Points

  • We give thanks for financial and medical clearance to go back to Japan on May 23!
  • We rejoice that Celia’s concerts with Shino in March and Keith’s class at Regent went well.
  • We praise God that Pastor Takahashi’s daughters, M and A, were baptized on Easter. Please pray for their continued faith journey as A starts her first year at university and M starts work as a preschool teacher.
  • Please pray as we start up life again in Japan, especially during the first week (May 24-29) before our refresher classes start (May 30): we need to buy a car, sign up for cell phone service, register with the city, shop for appliances, and most importantly, make a final decision about where to live.
  • Please pray for our language refresher course, that we relearn quickly what we have lost, and that our studies prepare us for our new ministries.
  • Pray with us as we look for a good balance between our outside ministry commitments and our involvement at Wakaba Church. 


Tea Bowl: We have 100% Pledged Support!

We have received financial clearance. Thank you for your prayers, donations, pledges, and re-pledges. We couldn’t do this without you!

Recent Happenings

This month, we have lots of pictures!

Concert with Shino at Newport Covenant Church, March 5
Shino joins the Wilson/Olson family band!
Celia plays shamisen for "Japanese Storytime" at Japanese Presbyterian Church, where our friend, Satoru Nakanishi is the pastor.
Tea Ceremony in our living room for Pastor Nakanishi and his wife, Hiroko and Celia's parents, coordinated by our awesome teacher, Tanaka Keiko-sensei
Dinner-date with nephew, Calvin. Look how big he's gotten!
With Keith's sister, Becca after her wedding

Language Corner

This time, we would like to introduce to you the Japanese Tanka poem. It is similar to a haiku, but has 2 extra lines. The syllable count is 5-7-5-7-7. Celia wrote two for your enjoyment. Give the Tanka a try; we’d love to read your Tanka poems too!
Raindrops fall, and leaves
Quiver from gentle impact—
Lush spring abundance.
Lovely things your hands have made;
My heart overflows with green.
Tiny moustached birds
Carry twigs to build their nest,
Hidden and secure.
Heavenly father, I pray,
Please build my home close to you.

Over the course of our home assignment these last ten months, we have missed Japan a lot, but at the same time, we count many blessings for which we cannot show enough gratitude. We treasured the time we were able to spend with supporters, the gorgeous meals we shared, housing and cars, trips to visit family, being present at the wedding of Keith’s sister, fellowship and worship at church, tea ceremony and theology classes, and praying together (in person!) with friends who have interceded for us faithfully over these past five years. We thank God for each of you who have walked with us during our home assignment.

Love in Christ,
Keith and Celia

Tuesday, May 10, 2016


Today’s coffee: “Sunrise” Kona (for those of you who visit Kauai, it’s the house brand of Living Foods Market—best coffee I found on Kauai!)

Today's coffee.
We’re counting the days. At this time in 2 weeks, I will hopefully be sleeping soundly at the OMF Sapporo guesthouse. Or, I might be waking up already, since it gets light at an ungodly hour at this time of year in Hokkaido. In any case, less than 2 weeks until we leave!

But first, we are leaving for Iowa today to visit Keith’s family, since Keith’s sister, Becca is getting married on Saturday! (I will be wearing my iro-tomesode kimono, which is the proper kimono to wear to the wedding of a close family member… and isn’t really appropriate for anything else. Glad I have an opportunity to wear it!)

As our home assignment draws to a close, I’d like to share with you a couple of thoughts that have been occupying my mind lately.

Last fall, I took the opportunity, at my friend, Jane’s invitation, to take a pottery class. I don’t really have a bucket list, but if I did, pottery class would have been on it. In the midst of life-transition-reverse-culture-shock stress, whacking huge lumps of clay against the table was pretty therapeutic, as was getting my hands all covered in mess while I tried to make something beautiful… “tried” being the operative word.

My goal was to make a few chawan and a few other small implements for tea ceremony. I didn’t do too badly with hand-building, which is the method of choice for certain types of chawan. They certainly looked like the work of an amateur, but a good first effort.

Hand-built scraffito chawan, in progress
My first hand-built chawan. Not bad!
Then I had my first try on the wheel. I had watched my teacher’s experienced hands form a beautiful little chawan according to my description, so I tried to do just as she had done. She advised me not to be too picky with the shape or size of my first efforts—to call them “happenings” and decide what they will be used for after I see how they turn out. Some of our best pieces are the ones that go “wrong,” she explained. Just play around and enjoy… and if it’s really useless, just throw it (at the wall. Throwing pots. Ha ha.)

Drinking coffee during class out of the chawan my teacher made. I shaped the foot and did the glaze. (It's actually supposed to be for tea, but there was coffee, and no other cups.)
My first try was probably beginner’s luck: I managed to make a nice straight cylinder. But this “luck” didn’t last. My long, skinny fingers seemed to be a liability rather than the asset they are when I play my instruments; to my surprise, my strong cellist-fingers were not strong enough to control the clay. They got stuck and spun around, giving my perfect cylinder a couple of funny divots in its rim. My teacher, observing my work, declared that I had made a little flower vase.

My "happenings": cream pitcher, vase, and... sermon illustration?
I tried again: just when I thought I had succeeded at making a chawan, once again I caught one of my fingers in the rim. “It’s a cream pitcher,” enthused my teacher. Last try: my chawan was shaping up nicely… and then the clay got too wet and the whole thing collapsed. I decided to keep it anyway, to practice glazing (and maybe to use as a sermon illustration).

The sermon illustration. (Any other suggestions?)
I gained a whole lot of respect for my teacher, and for anyone else who can successfully use the wheel to make what they actually intend to make. I realized that using the wheel takes a lot of practice to develop strength and skill—in an 8-week course, I wasn’t going to get there. My teacher, however, had been practicing and honing her skills for years.

I also know the importance of practice. I have been practicing cello regularly since I was ten. If I stop regular practice because I’m busy with something else, my skill and my strength both decrease. Seven years ago, I started learning Japanese. After previous language-learning attempts, I’ve concluded that the best way to learn a language is to live in a country where that language is spoken, because opportunities to practice will be almost inescapable. Although I’ve been working hard at keeping up my Japanese level these last ten months in the US, I’m kind of scared to find out how far I’ve fallen…

But there’s one more thing I’ve started practicing this year: listening. Listening also requires practice, whether I am listening to God, to other people, or even to my own thoughts. I’ve learned repeatedly this year that before I demand that God give me answers to some problem I am trying to solve, I need to spend time with him, remembering who he is and what sort of relationship we have. There have been many big decisions to be made this year, and all of them seemed to take especially long—probably because I needed to first learn to listen. And I’m sure I will re-learn this lesson many more times.

Friday, April 29, 2016

Introducing the OMF Blog, and my Q&A post

Today's coffee: Kauai Coffee, Poipu Estate (Just a few more weeks, and I'll be back at Tokumitsu!! And great news: they've opened up a new shop, right next to our church. Praise God...)

Not much blogging going on around here. I've been writing a lot, but mostly my own personal thoughts as I sort out some stuff about going back to Japan--mostly about where we're going to live. Nothing blog-worthy (yet).

One recent "writing assignment" was a Q&A for the OMF blog about arts ministry in Japan. It was helpful to write this, because I was able to summarize my past ministry, my hopes for future ministry, and also opportunities to serve and pray in a pretty concise format. I'll probably post the whole article here later, but for now, I'd love to advertise the OMF blog, so go read it there! The focus this month is Japan, so you may find other articles that interest you from my colleagues.

While we're at it, I also recommend this article on the OMF blog about the importance of theological education in Asia. Our friend and colleague, Dr. How Chuang Chua is quoted, and HBI, where Keith will be teaching (and where How Chuang taught until his death), is also mentioned. 

Tuesday, April 05, 2016

Sabbath means giving my work over to God

I found this today when I opened up my prayer journal (which lives on Google Docs) for the first time in over a month. I thought about sharing this right away, but I kind of didn't want "only had 3 days of rehearsal time" to deter anyone from attending the concerts... :)

Shino arrived safely one day after I wrote this. And the concerts were pretty good!

I hope you find this encouraging.

Tuesday, March 1

Shino was supposed to get here yesterday… but Sapporo winter happened. Now she’s rescheduled to come tomorrow. It’s a good thing it wasn’t today because the flights for today (which was yesterday in Japan) all got cancelled too. Praying for better weather tonight. It looks like the snow is supposed to be lighter today… don’t pull anything stupid, Jetstar.

All this has been very stressful for me. I imagine it has been for Shino as well. We’re losing 2 rehearsal days when we haven’t played together since last May.

But somehow as I was praying and griping to God about Shino getting stuck in Sapporo, I was filled with a sense of peace and the thought that this situation is an opportunity for faith in God’s strength--and I kind of got excited. Three days of rehearsal before a concert doesn’t seem like enough, but we are doing this in God’s strength, so even the impossible can be done.

Then there’s the CD project. I don’t know why I thought releasing the CD at our concert was a good idea, since it meant I got very little sleep last week. I waited to long to order labelled CD’s, so we ended up having to do lightscribe at home. That was really the only option without buying a whole new printer. But it’s old technology… and not compatible with Windows 10 as advertised. Suffice it to say, I spent about 4 hours yesterday trying to get the stupid drive to talk to my laptop. It wouldn’t. Thankfully Dad has Windows 7 on his computer, so he has it working. 2 discs successfully labelled! 98 to go… One of us will be sitting by the computer all day feeding it discs.

But last night when I went to bed, we still hadn’t gotten it working, and in the process of updating settings on my laptop in a vain attempt to get the lightscribe drive to work, the keyboard stopped working for a while, and then some of the buttons got messed up. With the whole project up in the air, I didn’t sleep well.

(Actually, the whole project was not up in the air, just the possibility of having the discs look slightly more professional than writing the title on them with sharpie. My pride was at stake, that’s all.)

Worry crept in again. What if Shino’s flight gets cancelled again? We’d have to cancel the concert. Anger, too, directed at my stupid computer’s inability to talk to the lightscribe drive. Desperate for sleep, I forced myself to pray, repeatedly giving Shino’s flights, our rehearsals, the concert, the CD, the lightscribe drive, and everything else into God’s hands. I repeated Deuteronomy 31:8, which is also the lyrics to one of the songs on the CD, over and over in my head: “It is the LORD who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.” I reminded myself of the peace I had felt the previous evening.

In the midst of worrying and wakefulness, this thought came into my mind: “Sabbath means giving my work over to God.” Yesterday was Monday, which is usually our day off (Sabbath). I would not have had a day off if Shino had been here, but I was getting one, to my surprise--the silver lining in the cloud. Sabbath is about resting, of course. But I’m not going to be able to rest without allowing God to be Lord over my work, and over the rest of my life too. I can’t do this alone. I lack the strength. I drifted off to sleep as I gradually relinquished control of my various tasks and stresses.

Saturday, March 26, 2016

Music and Stories

Today’s coffee: Street Bean Belltown Blend (but right now I’m drinking Burdick’s Hot Chocolate!!)

Everything always takes longer than I think it will. I thought it would be okay to release the CD on the same day as the concert… and ultimately, I managed it. However, it took several very late nights in a row, a lot of frantic emails with friends in Japan who were helping me with translations and such, a lot of fussing around with MS Publisher, even more fussing around trying to make a DVD/lightscribe burner talk to my Windows 10 computer (it wouldn’t), and many visits to kinko’s… followed by frustration that all the italics in the booklet has mysteriously disappeared and the pictures had moved around. At that point, I gave up trying to fix anything else. (It’s a good thing, too. I fixed the pictures and italics before printing the second batch, and it took about 4 hours…) I wouldn’t have gotten it all done if Shino hadn’t been delayed by 2 days due to a snow storm in Sapporo… which was a stress of a whole different magnitude.

But it’s all done now, sort of. The concerts are finished! We did it… despite having only 3 days to rehearse! I handed out a whole bunch of CD’s at the concerts, sent links to download for the tech-savvy, and mailed out a whole bunch more CD’s. I am very nearly recovered and caught up from the month in which nothing got done that wasn’t urgent. Now I just need to translate the booklet into Japanese. That will be an easy task… ha ha.

The concerts were pretty good, despite lack of sleep and short rehearsal time—one of our better performances, I think. It was cool (and encouraging) that a wide variety of friends came to the concerts, including people I hadn’t seen for a long time. Our concerts took on a similar format to what we usually did in Japan: I chose the stories I wanted to tell, then we chose pieces to fit the stories. This time Shino played a solo piece and told her own story, too. I thought she would speak in Japanese with translation, but she decided to speak in English—as she put it, there’s less of a barrier with the audience that way. (Now Shino has a lot of sympathy for what I usually have to do!)

Shino and I had fun being together and playing together—I was reminded again what a blessing our friendship and partnership has been. When it comes to music, two is definitely better than one (unless you’re playing unaccompanied Bach).

After the concerts were over, of course we went and did all the things I never get to do unless we have out of town guests. I’d never been to the Chihuly museum before. Fun times! I had a huge adrenaline letdown during lunch at Ivar’s. After that, I couldn’t eat normally for several days… so tired…

Thanks for praying for us! Things went really well, despite some setbacks, which we managed to overcome. (I didn’t mention that one of the piano’s jacks broke during dress rehearsal…) I’m looking forward to our next steps when we’re back in Japan!

And now, Celia and Shino's crazy Seattle concert photo album! Enjoy!

No time wasted: we started practicing right away! Here we are in my parents' living room, rehearsing with my great grandmother's piano!
How to cure jet-lag: get sprayed in the face by a massive waterfall.
Jingis Khan! Shino brought the sauce.
Concert #1 at Newport Covenant Church. Of course we had to get our signature shot with the two of us sitting on the piano bench. (This was the piano I took lessons on when I was little.)

Shino gets to tell her story!
We also played at church the next morning.
Concert #2: Japanese Presbyterian Church!
Our friend, Satoru Nakanishi is the pastor there. We studied together at Regent. Since it's a Japanese church, we did the whole program bilingually. (Satoru is an awesome translator... I would know.)
This church is so gorgeous. It's so Seattle, and so Japanese. It would fit really well in Hokkaido, I think.
Concerts are over... time to take Shino to our favorite Seattle spots!
Space Needle, as seen from the Chihuly gallery
Lunch at Ivar's, of course!
Standing in line with the rest of the Japanese tourists at the original Starbucks...
Cherry blossom season! Shino was lucky... they were super early this year!
We had to get a family picture, of course.
Last activity before going to the airport: walk in the woods near our house!

Friday, February 26, 2016

February Newsletter

Dear Friends and Family,

We are excited to announce that we have been designated! For those of you who don’t understand OMF-language, that means we have been officially assigned to a church and a job in Japan. We will be back at Wakaba Church, and also doing ministry elsewhere: Keith will teach new pastors at Hokkaido Bible Institute and Celia will start a music and arts ministry. We have each written more about our vision for ministry below.

In other exciting news, Shino Inoue, Celia’s friend and pianist, is coming to Seattle! Celia and Shino will present concerts on March 5 and 6, giving our supporters here a chance to meet one of our ministry colleagues and experience our music ministry firsthand. Celia is also planning to release an album of music from our first term, titled Music and Stories, concurrently with the concert. Please let us know if you would like one!

Celia's new album
Thank you for praying for our travels and family times over the last few months. We were able to spend Thanksgiving with Keith’s family--we met 2 new nieces for the first time and caught up with all the rest of the nieces and nephews too! Then we spent Christmas with Celia’s family for the first time since 2007. The next day we were off for 6 days in St. Louis at the Urbana student missions conference where we talked about missions and OMF and Japan with lots of college students who stopped by the OMF booth.

With our oldest niece/goddaughter, Elizabeth
Back in Seattle, two New Year feasts, mochitsuki party… and then the last of the exciting news: our nephew was born January 7, the first on Celia’s side of the family: Calvin Chen Wilson! We got to visit him when he was only a few hours old.


Prayer Points

  • We are thankful that our designation is finalized! Please pray for us as we begin to think about how to balance our responsibilities between church and other ministry. 
  • Please pray for Keith’s classes at Regent College (major paper due March 4) and his preparations to teach at Hokkaido Bible Institute. Teaching theological concepts in Japanese will entail a steep learning curve. 
  • Please pray for Celia and Shino’s concerts, March 5 and 6. Shino arrives February 29. Please pray for effective rehearsals (we only have 5 days!), encouraging time together, good health, and that our concerts will be a blessing to those attending.
  • Please pray for our meetings with individual supporters and for 100% pledged support by our deadline on March 23 (we are currently at 92%).
  • Keith will be visiting his family March 18-26. Please pray for a good time together.
  • Please pray for the students we talked to at Urbana as they take their next steps towards missions involvement. Please also pray for our OMF US colleagues as they continue with follow-up.


Tea Bowl: We have 92%!

We’re coming up on our deadline: one month left! We need 100% pledged monthly support for our second term. If you plan to continue your support from our first term into our second term, thank you! If you haven’t told us yet, please be sure to let us know again in person, by email, or through the OMF website  (select “update information,” and enter “re-pledging” in the comments). Our deadline for 100% pledged monthly support is March 23, 2016.

Celia’s Vision: A Restful Space

The contents of my arts thesis box at the library
A few weeks ago, I was sitting in the Regent College Library in Vancouver. Keith was busy studying for one of his classes (he’s taking classes to prepare for his new ministry); I was with him for MissionsFest and a concert. I glanced up and saw a sign for the arts thesis (IPIAT) projects on a nearby bookshelf; I went and found mine: Praise the LORD with Stringed Instruments: Instrumental Music as Participation and Contemplation. Although I once had had great ambitions of continuing my project and maybe turning it into a blog or a book, it had been years since I even looked at it. (Japan happened. Surprise!)

I felt nostalgic, looking through the pictures, programs, CDs and other items in the box—even a paper star from the prayer-origami I had everyone do. I thought back to all the people who collaborated with me on this project and all the work that went into it. But until I opened the 3-ring binder containing my thesis, I couldn’t remember what I had written.

I thought I had given up on this project when I went to Japan. But it turns out, the things I studied, agonized over, wrote about, and put into practice back in the 2008-2009 academic year were still swirling around in my head as I agonized over the rut into which I had fallen with the bait-and-switch-style concert ministry that was expected of me in Japan. (Come to a concert! You’re also going to hear a sermon, but I’m not going to tell you that.) Here are a few highlights from my thesis:
“Words, even edifying and truthful words, can be busy and noisy. They crowd the airwaves and our brainwaves. We need the wordless space that can be offered by instrumental music, time to listen quietly, waiting to hear a still, small voice.” 
“I am aware that I need more than anything to pray, to listen, and to be still before God. Studying theology is like drinking from a fire hose.” So is Japanese study and missionary work. “There is so much to learn in such a short time that reflecting on what I have learned is an unknown luxury. The feedback I received after the first three worship services [the practical component of my project] convinced me that I was not alone; we all need to gather deliberately to be silent before God.” 
“Even though this stage of my project is complete, I consider it only a foundation for work that will last the rest of my life. The stillness and rest offered by instrumental music is a great need. Wherever I go, I will continue to offer this restful place to those around me.”
Reading my thesis again, I am encouraged that it’s okay to re-think my music ministry, because the quiet space I want to offer is necessary to the souls of over-worked businessmen and women, students, pastors, and missionaries. Busy people forget about God—or they don’t think about him in the first place. Therefore, providing quiet space for contemplation is a vital part of evangelism.

Our designation is finalized: we’re going back to the Sapporo area, to Wakaba Church in Ishikari. As for me, I’ve been given a blank slate to start a new arts ministry. Now is the time to pick up that dream of offering a restful place to those around me: a collaborative arts ministry involving my own disciplines of music and tea ceremony as well as the gifts brought by like-minded colleagues. What will this look like practically? Who knows? What I do know is that it will start slowly: 一歩一歩 (ippo ippo)—one step at a time.

I surrendered my dreams at the foot of the cross… and now I’m picking them up again. Wow. This is really happening. I’m so incredibly thankful.

Keith’s Vision: God Gives the Growth 

Blast from the past: Keith studies in the Regent library for his comprehensive exams in April 2009
While I was taking classes at Regent College 10 years ago, I struggled with my vocation. I had no idea where or what God had in store for me, but one option I seriously considered was teaching at a Christian school, and I knew how I would do it. I imagined myself teaching students, who were struggling with the Bible like I had, all the exegetical tidbits I wished I'd known.  I even looked at job possibilities in California. Fortunately, God brought us to Japan instead, and like Celia with her thesis, I shelved my idea of teaching.

10 years later, I am taking a couple of classes back at Regent College, again struggling with my vocation. This time I know where (Hokkaido Bible Institute) and more or less what (teaching exegesis, Isaiah, and perhaps more), but I'm not exactly sure how.  As I commute from Seattle to Vancouver, I often wonder how to contextualize what I am learning for a Japanese school. The classes I'm taking have already gone a long way to recondition my theological muscles, but reconciling the critical English approach with the top-down Japanese teaching style is impossible. Not that I think teaching Bible in any context would be easy, but like the times I preached, led discussions, held events, or even any time I answered the phone, if I have any success in Japanese, it is only by God's grace and his enabling.

I originally intended to write about the problem of aging pastors and the rise of pastorless churches and to discuss the need for the younger generation of Japanese Christians to step into full time ministry positions. And I do trust that I will be able to support HBI in its mission to train pastors, evangelists, and lay leaders, but I don’t see my ministry as filling a need as much as being filled myself.  I have mentioned not in so many words before, but I go to Japan for a very personal reason: to grow closer to God. I do long to see Japan grow closer to God too, and in some inexplicable way, God has shown me that my life and the life of Japanese people I encounter are bound together. I grow with them; I don't grow them. When I think of the times I’ve opened the word of God with Japanese people, I both witness and am witnessed to at the same time.

This is a long way of saying that although I am intimidated and humbled, I am excited to have the opportunity to share life with pastors, evangelists, and lay leaders, and to grow with them in any way that God gives growth.

Only three months left until we return to Japan--May 23! Let us know if you want to meet up before we go back. Thanks for your continued prayers.

Love in Christ,
Keith and Celia

Saturday, February 20, 2016

Recording project: Music and Stories

I've been really busy lately with projects. One of them is obvious: there's a concert in 2 weeks, so I'd better practice my cello... and of course there were invitations to make and generally getting the word out. I think practice is going rather well.

The other project is one Keith and I dreamed up last year in January when we were at Pre-Home Assignment Workshop: a CD (or set of mp3 downloads) to give to our supporters to give them a taste of my music ministry and thank them for their support. It was supposed to be a Christmas present. Oops.

Now there's a new deadline: have the CD ready to release on the day of the concert. (Not to mention, Shino, my collaborator for the upcoming concert and a major collaborator for the CD, is eager to have one.) Release date is March 5! Lots to do...

Ta-da! The cover will look something like this, only better, when I get used to the stamps. The Japanese writing on the right is my friend's calligraphy. The red stamp is my doodling... isn't it cool that you can get custom made stamps on the internet?
On the CD will be cello and piano music by Debussy, Rachmaninoff, and Brahms; Japanese folk songs accompanied by shamisen; my own hymn arrangements for viola da gamba and voice (in Japanese); and 2 Japanese worship songs composed by friends of ours and performed by the Sambi Reihai band at our church. Other friends contributed art for the cover, recording expertise, design help... and moral support.

The recording itself was completed before we left Japan. I just needed to figure out web hosting, CD printing (as in getting art printed on the back side of the CD rather than using a permanent marker to write the title, as I have usually done in the past), design for the cover and booklet, actually writing the material for the booklet... etc. I only came up with the title about a week ago, but things are coming together, I think. I hope.

If you are praying for us, then we invite you to order a CD (or mp3's to download). Click on the link; it will take you to an order form. This offer is also open to those of you who follow our blog and aren't on our email list. If we don't know you, please be sure to leave an answer in the box labelled "would you like to introduce yourself?" Please introduce yourself, and tell me why you want a CD, because I'm only giving this to friends... so let's be friends. We're looking forward to "meeting" you. :)

One more thing: if you want an actual CD rather than mp3 downloads, please order by February 28. Otherwise you might have to wait until May if I don't have any extras.

Okay, back to work on writing liner notes...

Sunday, February 14, 2016

Concerts in Seattle

It's official! Shino is coming to visit... and we're playing two concerts! For those of you in the Seattle area, this is your opportunity to meet someone who has been both a dear friend and a valuable colleague to us. We'll give you a firsthand glimpse of what our music ministry looks like. Please come, and stay to chat afterwards! 


Concert 1: Saturday, March 5, 7:30 p.m. at Newport Covenant Church, 12800 Coal Creek Parkway SE, Bellevue

Concert 2: Sunday, March 6, 5:30 p.m. at Japanese Presbyterian Church, 1801 24th Ave S, Seattle

The program will include music by Brahms, Schumann, Schubert, Debussy, and more. As we usually do in our concerts in Japan, we'll intersperse stories into the concert. In this case, we will tell stories about how we have seen God at work as we engaged in music ministry in Japan.

Here is an invitation. Please come!

If you are wondering who we are and why you would want to come hear us, I have also included our profiles below.
A native of Sapporo, Japan, Shino Inoue (井上志乃) started playing piano at age five. She studied music education at Sapporo Otani University, after which she established her own piano studio. Shino is involved in music and youth ministry at Toei Church, where she has attended since childhood. 
Celia Olson grew up in Newcastle and has attended Newport Covenant Church since birth. She started cello at age 10 and then played in the Seattle Youth Symphony during high school before studying music at the University of Colorado at Boulder and Boston University. Celia’s life took an unexpected turn when she started theological studies at Regent College, leading her to become a missionary with OMF International in Sapporo, Japan.
Introduced by a mutual friend, Celia and Shino met in Sapporo in November 2009 and played together for the first time at Christmas 2009. Since then, they have presented concerts at churches all over Japan’s northern island of Hokkaido.