By Grayson Hester
Amid natural disasters that have literally shifted the ground, sometimes what’s required is a faith that can move mountains. Or at least move people from comfort to community, from inaction to compassion. It’s the faith required of an entire country following the catastrophic 7.6 earthquake that rocked Ishikawa, Japan, on January 1, injecting fresh horrors into the new year.
Carson and Laura Foushee have been Cooperative Baptist Fellowship field personnel in Kanazawa, Japan since 2013. They live there with their daughter (5) and son (1). After the earthquake, the Foushees are taking on responsibilities they did not originally expect. “What is our role? We’re discerning,” Carson said. “We’re not first responders, not government employees; but we do care for our neighbors and how to use our giftedness for them.”
“We’re trying to remain consciously aware: There are people who still need help,” Laura said. “It’s still on the news cycle.”
The earthquake occurring more than three months ago still dominates the news nationwide, so much so that, as noted by Carson, a graphic providing constant updates on the number of deceased, homeless and so on accompanies every news broadcast.
“There’s a QR code for info and stats about what’s going on, about the people who are affected,” he said. “It lets people know where to find baths, instructions on the different things they have to do to apply for assistance, safety checks.”
The government takes care of many of these needs, a result of the scarcity of churches and the dearth of religious affiliation in Japan. The Foushees estimate the number of Christians to be around 2% of the 125 million population.
But that doesn’t mean religion doesn’t have a role to play. In the 60 days since the earthquake, more than 241 fatalities have been reported, 11 people are missing and more than 1,200 injuries have been officially logged. But the earthquake’s most potent effect can be seen in the throngs of people who have evacuated the rural Noto Peninsula, estimated at around 30,000 and growing.
Many of them are now, and maybe will forever be, the Foushees’ neighbors.
They live in Kanazawa, the largest city in Ishikawa Prefecture (comparable to a U.S. state), which sits a few hours south of the epicenter. But distance in such migratory circumstances matters little.
“There are thousands of people in our city who have evacuated here. They’re staying in temporary evacuation locations, public facilities,” Carson said. “They’re sleeping on cardboard beds in public gyms and in hotels; they’re staying with family, and some people have been sleeping in cars. These people are here.”
The Foushees did not come to Japan for disaster relief. Like all other CBF field personnel around the world, they felt called to their location to establish long-term presence and to minister in and through relationships. For most of their time there, they have been teaching and preaching across the country’s Kanto and Hokuriku regions before being called back to serve alongside Kanazawa Baptist Church in 2022.
A small church—they agreed that 30-40 worshippers on a Sunday morning was “a good day”—it now faces an outsized responsibility. It is one of few churches in the city—let alone the prefecture—and the only Japan Baptist Convention congregation.
It is a task the size of which is matched only by the expansiveness of the Gospel itself.
“It’s an all-hands-on-deck disaster response,” Laura said. “You have to find your way; building relationships with people who do have access is really important.”
Laura and Carson think of themselves as minorities-within-minorities in their city; not only are they among the 2% of Christians, but they’re also within the 2% of internationals.
Suffice to say, they are not leaders in this response, but faithful followers. This has led them to establish relationships with an NGO tasked with disaster response. In a manner indicative of CBF’s model of ministry, this church emphasizes not their desire to help nor their own cultural understandings, but actual helpfulness and cultural sensitivity.
It emphasizes, as the gospel does, relationships. “We try to build relationships with that staff, knowing it’s not the same people who are there week after week,” Carson said. “We have to get to know them, and then someone else.”
The church has found a niche within the need’s overwhelming scope, providing housing, pleasant distraction, connection and food to the revolving door of NGO staffers who stop by on their way to or from Noto. “Laura and two members of our international ministry provided a meal for the staff at the end of January,” he said. “We made a taco bar—some of them had never had Mexican food before. It was a cool cultural exchange.”
Whatever KBC and the Foushees decide to do, it will need to be sustainable and as reliably present as the disaster’s many aftershocks. This requires both faith and funds.
“What we are learning—it’s the first time we’ve lived in an area that’s in disaster—disaster relief goes beyond the immediate, emergency response,” Laura said. “There’s a long-term need of presence. The relational parts of communities have become broken; if you’ve lived there and opted to stay there, you no longer have the same neighbors you used to.”
Therein lies the thrust of Jesus’ question, “Who is my neighbor?” Is it a status delineated by borders and demarcated by social standing, or is it a name conferred by the same One who calls us beloved?
Assuming it’s the latter, the Foushees choose to see the evacuees as people who are in need of stability amid a shaken earth, of community among catastrophe. And while they may not know their role, they know with certainty that they must be present in whatever way they can.
“As we’ve been building relationships with local Japanese partners, our primary goal is to raise funds to support their work. We have no immediate plans for this to become our primary ministry,” Laura said. “How do we support people who have more knowledge? We’ve already received earthquake disaster funds and built a closer relationship with this NGO; how do we appropriately, culturally, offer them that resource? We’re working through that right now.”
Carson, who has seen firsthand the destruction wrought by the earthquake, feels similarly. Even after completing the harrowing journey north a couple of times, volunteering to help with debris cleanup and the simple act of providing much-needed distractions to those in disarray, he still doesn’t know exactly what his and his church’s role is to be.
But he knows the call that brought him and Laura to Japan in 2013—to follow the light that shines in the darkness—is the same one that bids him now to help.
“We’ve continued to see people say ‘yes,’ even when they’re unsure how they can commit,” Laura said. “Say ‘yes’ to this NGO, giving an afternoon to cut vegetables—even in the small ways, people who have hearts to serve their neighbors, even if they don’t know them, know this is how to show the love of Christ.”
This article first appeared in the Spring 2024 issue of fellowship! magazine. Check out the issue and subscribe for free at www.cbf.net/fellowship.