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My parents (center) with Rev. Hayashi (right, with baby) in front of Wakkanai Episcopal Church
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Luke Buttry in front of the Milk Bar in Wakkanai
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Luke Buttry with a Japanese student inside the Milk Bar
Today I was reminded by a colleague of the verse from Hebrews 12 that follows the rich recitation of faithful saints in chapter 11: "Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us." I was immediately joyfully overwhelmed by the rush of people that came to mind who are part of my "cloud of witnesses," people who laid the foundations of faith and missionary service for my life.
I have to start with my parents. They had dreamed of being missionaries before discerning a call for Dad to be an Air Force chaplain. They took that missionary passion with them into the work of chaplain and chaplain's wife. They especially had a great time for the two years we lived in Wakkanai on the northern tip of Japan.
Dad worked with a Japanese Episcopal priest, helping him first build a milk bar as an outreach hang-out center for teens in the city. Then they built a dorm for girls coming from the rural areas to attend high school. I helped as a teenager in the construction of the dorm, getting my first experience of hands-on mission work. The first girl to come to Christ through the dorm ministry was baptized the last Sunday we were in Japan.
Mom hosted a Christmas party for the Japanese Christian women and the officers wives. It was a mission opportunity as the Japanese women shared their testimonies to the U.S. women, most of whom were not believers. Who are the missionaries, and who needs missionaries?!
Rudy Kiyten was a Dutch missionary, a huge burly man with shaggy red hair and a full red beard. He led a summer camp for missionary kids and kids from the chapels at the Army and Air Force bases in Hokkaido. We built an outdoor chapel on the hillside. Over the entering archway Rudy hung a small rock, reminding us to bow with humility as we came into the presence of God. His lesson has stayed with me throughout life.
My first missions-related memory is from when I was 4 years old. My parents hosted Dick Reed, a missionary in Liberia with radio station ELWA that broadcast the gospel throughout West Africa. Something of what he shared deeply impressed my 4-year old heart, because I remembered his name, the radio station and ministry. I have been to Liberia 3 times doing peace work to heal the land from the war that destroyed ELWA's facilities. God moves in strange ways!
The first Bible I bought for myself I purchased from a missionary who traveled around northern Japan in a van full of Christian literature. I used that Bible so much the cover broke, so I had a friend hand-tool a new brown leather cover in my "Jesus freak" days. To this day I keep that Bible near my desk and turn to its battered pages again and again. The price of 820 yen can still be faintly read in on the first page.
Then there were my grandparents, Frank and Francena Arnold. Grandpa was the business manager at Northern Baptist Theological Seminary. Grandma and Grandpa prayed fervently for all the students that came through the school and their home. It was said the sun never set on people the Arnolds were praying for. One such person was Ben Wati, a young Naga student from northeast India who became such a great evangelist he is referred to as the Billy Graham of Nagaland. Again, how wonderfully strange in God's providence that I would spend so much of my time working with the Nagas to find the way to peace and reconciliation!
I would be remiss in talking about the cloud of witnesses if I didn't name the Hopevale martyrs, the 11 American Baptist missionaries who were executed by Japanese soldiers during World War II after their hiding place in the Philippines was discovered. Filipino Christians had sheltered and cared for them for almost two years at great risk. Every time I go to the American Baptist Assembly at Green Lake, I take time for a private visit to the Hopevale Memorial, the Cathedral in the Glen patterned after the worship place the missionaries had in the Philippines. Along the path are the poems of Jennie Clare Adams who spoke of beauty and faith amid the horrors of war. I go there to consecrate myself anew to the Lord's service. My dear friend Bishop Malkhaz Songulashvili has taken me to many places of "holy ground" in his beloved Republic of Georgia. So when Malkhaz was with me at a World Mission Conference at Green Lake, I took him to the Hopevale Memorial, sharing the story of the missionary martyrs and their inspiration in my life. This May as I was in the Philippines to help celebrate 75 years of the Convention of Philippine Baptist Churches I wept as I saw the youth present that story as part of their history and testimony of faith.
I could go on about the cloud of witnesses, but the writer to the Hebrews brings it home. Now is our time to run the race set before us. The cloud of witnesses are there to inspire us, guide us with their examples, and cheer us on. But it's our time to run.
As American Baptist congregations prepare to receive the World Mission Offering, may we be keenly aware of the pressing commission still before us from our Lord Jesus to go into all the world. Thank you for all you do to support me, my colleagues in global mission, and our partners throughout the world. My prayer is that together we will run our leg of the race in such a way that we will be counted among the cloud of witnesses for those who come after us.
In humble gratitude,
Dan
I have to start with my parents. They had dreamed of being missionaries before discerning a call for Dad to be an Air Force chaplain. They took that missionary passion with them into the work of chaplain and chaplain's wife. They especially had a great time for the two years we lived in Wakkanai on the northern tip of Japan.
Dad worked with a Japanese Episcopal priest, helping him first build a milk bar as an outreach hang-out center for teens in the city. Then they built a dorm for girls coming from the rural areas to attend high school. I helped as a teenager in the construction of the dorm, getting my first experience of hands-on mission work. The first girl to come to Christ through the dorm ministry was baptized the last Sunday we were in Japan.
Mom hosted a Christmas party for the Japanese Christian women and the officers wives. It was a mission opportunity as the Japanese women shared their testimonies to the U.S. women, most of whom were not believers. Who are the missionaries, and who needs missionaries?!
Rudy Kiyten was a Dutch missionary, a huge burly man with shaggy red hair and a full red beard. He led a summer camp for missionary kids and kids from the chapels at the Army and Air Force bases in Hokkaido. We built an outdoor chapel on the hillside. Over the entering archway Rudy hung a small rock, reminding us to bow with humility as we came into the presence of God. His lesson has stayed with me throughout life.
My first missions-related memory is from when I was 4 years old. My parents hosted Dick Reed, a missionary in Liberia with radio station ELWA that broadcast the gospel throughout West Africa. Something of what he shared deeply impressed my 4-year old heart, because I remembered his name, the radio station and ministry. I have been to Liberia 3 times doing peace work to heal the land from the war that destroyed ELWA's facilities. God moves in strange ways!
The first Bible I bought for myself I purchased from a missionary who traveled around northern Japan in a van full of Christian literature. I used that Bible so much the cover broke, so I had a friend hand-tool a new brown leather cover in my "Jesus freak" days. To this day I keep that Bible near my desk and turn to its battered pages again and again. The price of 820 yen can still be faintly read in on the first page.
Then there were my grandparents, Frank and Francena Arnold. Grandpa was the business manager at Northern Baptist Theological Seminary. Grandma and Grandpa prayed fervently for all the students that came through the school and their home. It was said the sun never set on people the Arnolds were praying for. One such person was Ben Wati, a young Naga student from northeast India who became such a great evangelist he is referred to as the Billy Graham of Nagaland. Again, how wonderfully strange in God's providence that I would spend so much of my time working with the Nagas to find the way to peace and reconciliation!
I would be remiss in talking about the cloud of witnesses if I didn't name the Hopevale martyrs, the 11 American Baptist missionaries who were executed by Japanese soldiers during World War II after their hiding place in the Philippines was discovered. Filipino Christians had sheltered and cared for them for almost two years at great risk. Every time I go to the American Baptist Assembly at Green Lake, I take time for a private visit to the Hopevale Memorial, the Cathedral in the Glen patterned after the worship place the missionaries had in the Philippines. Along the path are the poems of Jennie Clare Adams who spoke of beauty and faith amid the horrors of war. I go there to consecrate myself anew to the Lord's service. My dear friend Bishop Malkhaz Songulashvili has taken me to many places of "holy ground" in his beloved Republic of Georgia. So when Malkhaz was with me at a World Mission Conference at Green Lake, I took him to the Hopevale Memorial, sharing the story of the missionary martyrs and their inspiration in my life. This May as I was in the Philippines to help celebrate 75 years of the Convention of Philippine Baptist Churches I wept as I saw the youth present that story as part of their history and testimony of faith.
I could go on about the cloud of witnesses, but the writer to the Hebrews brings it home. Now is our time to run the race set before us. The cloud of witnesses are there to inspire us, guide us with their examples, and cheer us on. But it's our time to run.
As American Baptist congregations prepare to receive the World Mission Offering, may we be keenly aware of the pressing commission still before us from our Lord Jesus to go into all the world. Thank you for all you do to support me, my colleagues in global mission, and our partners throughout the world. My prayer is that together we will run our leg of the race in such a way that we will be counted among the cloud of witnesses for those who come after us.
In humble gratitude,
Dan