We had lunch in our waiting room, which was a fairly large room with two sections, a traditional tatami (grass mat) section where we take our shoes off and sit on the floor at a low table. The other section is more western style, with comfortable chairs and a little table. Patty and I sat there for lunch, and Tomiro sat with us off and on to make sure our needs were met. He’s a quiet but very gracious man, and we thank God for him. In one recess of the tatami room there was a small table with the box containing the urn for Katsu’s ashes.
Lunch was a Japanese obento box lunch, which are very traditional. You’ll not find potato chips or cookies in an obento! We had the ever-present “sticky rice,” which is delicious. There were several Japanese vegetables that were good, and tofu, which is quite good when you pour a little soy sauce on it. Tomiro came around and handed me a little package of furikake, which is a dry concoction of seeds and spices and the like that you shake onto your rice. Delicious! He also made sure Miss Yagi, our server, brought me a cold Pepsi Cola. Afterwards he and I had a cup of coffee together. (Patty doesn’t imbibe of either!)
After a total of about an hour and a half of reading and relaxing, our number was called over the intercom: “Group number eight, please report to the crematorium.” We all walked over that way and gathered where we had seen Katsu taken into the system. With plenty of bows and respect, the staff member gathered us around a coffin-sized framework, after which they wheeled the earthly remains of Katsu on a table into the frame. There wasn’t much left of her except for pieces of bones and skull, and of course very fine ashes. To you this may seem repulsive, but it is perfectly natural to the Japanese, and of course to us since we’ve been here so long.
Next the staff member instructed and directed what might be called the “bone-picking ceremony.” Each loved one took a pair of chopsticks especially prepared for the purpose, and began placing pieces of bone into the urn, beginning at the feet. I participated for just a minute or two to show my love for Katsu, because that is what the Japanese are doing in this ceremony: showing love and respect in a final duty to their loved one. In the meantime, as the eldest son Tomiro was given a large pestle and the task of making the bones fit into the urn but crushing them.
Are you having some culture shock right now? Good! Now you know what missionaries may face when they reach the field and try to learn the culture. I am reminded of one young American teen from Illinois who was staying with Mrs. Takasugi, who directs the local exchange student program. When I had the funeral for Mrs. Takasugi’s mother, he almost lost it at this point in the ceremony, as he told me afterward!
When we had filled the urn, there were some ashes and pieces of bone left. The staff member announced that the remains would be respectfully cared for by the city of Asahikawa, which runs the crematorium. With this we all returned to our bus for the twenty minute trip back to the funeral home. When we arrived, Patty and I were given a huge bouquet from the huge flower display that had been around the casket, and we returned home, praising the Lord for another Japanese believer in Heaven, and her son so faithful to our church on earth.
