The Words the Hose Family
Actually, this trip to the Philippines came unexpectedly. Upon arriving in Japan after a long absence from my family, I received a call from my husband, saying I could join him in the Philippines. I felt my husband's wish for me to go there to work together with him. Knowing that this is the beginning of the children's course, I was aware that something is expected of us as couples. My first response was to proceed to get a visa.
While I was in Japan, I couldn't make any telephone connection with the Philippines. The only call I got said, "The director needs a slide projector from Japan; the weather is humid and hot; workshop is going well." But the details I wanted to know about the people or how to prepare myself were almost nothing.
I realized I would probably have to initiate a lot on my own. That is already understood, because I felt that the children's age is the age in which we have to take more initiative, not waiting until the central figure says something.
I knew something about the history of the relations between Japan and the Philippines, especially during World War II, so I arrived with the determination, "I will try to indemnify something on behalf of the Japanese people."
After two hours riding on bus and jeepney, we got on a motorcycle-type vehicle with a seat beside it. It was almost midnight by then, and the road was really bumpy and muddy. When we arrived, I found my husband already asleep, not knowing I was coming.
The workshop was already halfway over, and my husband was working in dim light, struggling between preparations for VOC lectures, which he had never given before, and "sore eye," a contagious infection which he and half the trainees had. This was truly the humble setting.
No one had explained to me the plan for the workshop, so naturally my feeling was that I was thrown in the middle of the hole of ignorance. I had to feel out what I should do. Most of David's time was taken with lecturing, the rest in counseling. He wanted to grasp something about each person during the training, hopefully meeting at least once or twice with everyone. Therefore, it left us very little time to plan together.
Divine Principle is what we first hear in a classroom, but our aim in learning Divine Principle is to become the kind of person that the Principle describes, by practicing the Principle and attaining the kind of heart God has, through True Parents. So, more importantly, truth is a foundation, but developing character and heart in everyday life -- whatever the mission we are in -- is our main goal as Unification members. Therefore, Principle life education lectures guide us towards this goal. Rev. Ken Sudo initiated these lectures in his internal guidance.
After joining the family, the course we progressively go through is the "tradition" that Unification Church members should know. We begin developing our own spiritual life in a healthy way, understanding God and Satan within ourselves, and working to establish God-centeredness in ourselves by eliminating the satanic element. This is the kind of internal guidance I had the opportunity to share during the 40-day workshop.
As a couple, we are rarely aware of East and West differences any more; we are just David and Takeko working together and creating a new culture coming from our True Parents. We are more eager to inherit whatever True Parents have done or are doing, and we bring into our conversations a lot of those things.
My husband's internal approach to everything, his receptiveness, seems to be so close to the Oriental way that I believe he must feel quite comfortable among Oriental people. The way we solve differences is, I go along with my husband's philosophy. He thinks that underneath cultural differences there is a fallen nature of tending to cling to one's own particular culture. When two people get together to exchange and harmonize, if there is only a difference of culture, then there should be no problem with mutual respect. But the problem comes when two people have unexpressed feelings that "I want to be better than you; my culture, therefore, is superior."
Japanese people's loyalty, for instance, is great virtue, which I think Heavenly Father can really utilize. It is almost unquestioned loyalty, once they commit themselves. Even though many Japanese brothers and sisters may not see True Parents for many years, they can still be absolutely committed to do anything, to sacrifice for True Parents' sake. That kind of loyalty is really a beauty and a virtue. But there are some other points I observe in international situations: Japanese tend to stick together and become a little bit exclusive. So others feel it is difficult to join them. To jump into the international scene is a challenge to Japanese people.
When Principle comes from one country to another, there is sometimes a feeling of "Oh, we are superior because we practice Principle, and my country is more loved by God than your country; therefore, we are automatically higher in the hierarchy." Everybody should have pride, but it shouldn't come out so much. Someone with that big a pride and confidence needs the body of a servant. To me, the most important thing is to get first into the culture, like what St. Paul said, "I am all things to all men."
These words are a warning to me that no matter how many years you have been in your country, when you go to another culture you have to quickly set aside whatever confidence or experience you have built so far. Be ready to face anything that is totally new. This is very difficult, but I think our life constantly demands it of us. We need to be innocent that way. First do what others do, and then build your own foundation with silence. That is more Abel-type thinking.
Many members in the Philippines have never met True Parents, so naturally we were very aware that we were looked upon as representatives of True Parents. We felt that they had something like "unquestioned trust" in us as representatives, probably even before we offered them anything. We have had the great blessing of being with True Parents on so many occasions and have had numerous rich experiences with them. We tried to share their heart, the degree of care, degree of love, the extent of their interest in each person and their deep thought for our future. We have seen how they laid the path for us, how strict they are to keep us from deviating from the path -- and yet how merciful and unconditionally accepting they are. Their heart and personality is what we seem to "memorize" with our bodies, so to speak. Our whole being somehow knows them, and it manifests what they have passed on to us. It's difficult to put into words, but our desire is to express these elements so that brothers and sisters can have a good, positive feeling of True Parents, more realistically than just by lecture.
Even at a very humble level, quite a few members who are waiting for the matching expressed that they really felt hope, knowing how this international marriage works and how couples blessed by True Parents can really make beautiful families. I don't know exactly what we did to give them the essence of True Parents, but from morning to night, whatever we did was with that consciousness.
The family in the Philippines reminded me of the early stages of our Japanese movement, which also led a very humble life. My own family had gone through quite a bit of poverty after the war, with no money around, so the situation was not so surprising. I felt almost like I was going back to my own home; I was very comfortable spiritually and emotionally.
But it struck my husband very strongly because he is from the Western part of the world, so our response to the Philippines was somewhat different. I felt very comfortable with them. I didn't feel like I went to a strange place because it is the same Orient.
In recent years many Japanese companies have gone to the Philippines to get cheap labor. I felt sad knowing that the Japanese themselves were living in expensive housing, hiring Filipinos as maids and even forbidding their children to play with Filipinos. Yet when it comes to donating something for the sake of Filipinos, they do nothing.
For the survival of any one nation, not only Japan -- or even one individual -- it is very clear we have to help each other, for the sake of being helped in the future. We never know who will end up helping whom, since this world is changing very fast.
Also, historically, so much damage was done to the Philippine people, and the only way to heal that wound is by humility and heavenly love. The Japanese missionary couples who are there are very aware of that history; they want to heal that resentment in a principled way and with heavenly love.
When the members made special food for the Western members, although I was grateful for their concern for us, I felt sharp pain in my heart, because that doesn't restore the history but will just repeat the past, bringing again feelings of alienation, discrimination. That's the very thing we have to restore, in the name of Principle.
Children's Day came while we were there. Because the members' life is so humble, I wanted to cook special things for the holiday. We found Korean home members there and got together with them to prepare everything in the traditional way: pulgogi, chop che, kim chee and rice, and cakes. Almost everyone spent the day on an outing to a volcano. While Mrs. Doroski was busy ordering cakes and running errands, I was singing holy songs alone in the kitchen and cooking pulgogi, and I began to really miss from the bottom of my heart our True Parents.
During the workshop, we had been so busy with trainees that we simply had no time to get together with the missionaries. Finally we finished meeting with everyone, and very late at night one sister came into my room and just started crying. I already sensed what she meant, but I asked her why she was crying. "You are leaving." That is all she said.
I felt our giving was so humble; we could have done more. Whenever we finish something we always feel regret; no matter how we try, we always feel that we could have done more. Even one member crying shows us that we have done something true and good for them. On the plane coming to America, we read through all the farewell letters which they wrote. It was heartwarming, and it really pulls us to go back to the Philippines.