Liberals

18 August 2013

Dear Phyllis,

Before I start, let me apologize for this letter. This is not a good one. Not everything in life has a happy ending. I wish all my stories ended on a positive note, but there are many mysteries in this life for which we have no immediate answer. Toru Saito is one.

The daughter of my dear friend, Takako Yamamoto, Izumi, had a friend she met playing tennis. He was a brilliant young man that seemed to be an exceptional seeker for the salvation. After spending some time sharing Christ with him, Izumi suggested, if he was really serious about getting saved, why didn't he call Bill Cook in Karuizawa? He did, and we scheduled a day for him to come visit us. That was a most unusual day.

Toru was one of the most outstanding young men I had ever met. He was the third generation of a family of Todai professors. Tokyo University is one of the most prestigious citadels of education in the world. It is the unquestioned Japanese equivalent of Harvard, and perhaps a cut above Harvard. It clearly is the highest center of learning in Japan, and one of the highest in the world. Both Toru's father and grandfather were professors at Todai (Tokyo Daigaku [university]). Being the son of such a prestigious family, it was assumed that Toru would continue the family tradition. He had graduated for Kyoto Daigaku (university) which was second only to Todai, and he had done graduate study at Princeton. But for all his learning, there was a huge hole in Toru's heart in quest of the purpose in life, and he was a genuine seeker of salvation.

I spent a very challenging day with Toru trying to explain to him how he could be saved by faith in Christ. Finally, towards evening, I said to him, “Toru, if you want to be saved you are going to have to change two things – your diet and your environment.” Toru's major in college was philosophy. That was his graduate work at Princeton. He was on his way to being a philosophy professor. I told him, “It is impossible for you to have saving faith in Jesus Christ when all you feed on is anti-Christian secular philosophy. That is your diet.” We are what we eat. If the only thing a person feeds on is secular, anti-Christian, books and teaching, how in the world is it possible to have real saving faith in Christ? We must make our choice who we are going to follow. It is possible for a Christian to study philosophy, but they must do it from a perspective of where it is in error and is in contradiction to the truth expressed in the Bible. Salvation is a volitional choice. I told Toru, “You must make your choice of what you are going to believe – God's truth or secular philosophy.”

Dr. Don Chitic told me that when he was a young undergraduate studying science, he was greatly challenged in his Christian faith. Finally, he made the volitional choice, “I don't care what the professors teach in science class, I am sticking with the Word of God.” He said after he made that choice, the Lord opened science to him; and as a PHD, nuclear physicist, he said he had never faced a scientist that he did not prove to them that their position was patently impossible. When he made them admit that what they were teaching was impossible, he demanded, “If you know it is impossible, why do you teach it as truth?” Their response was, “Because we have no other alternative.” Don Chitic told me the problem with science and philosophy is not intellectual, but moral. They just don't want to accept God's truth because of the responsibly that goes with it.

And his environment was liberal Christianity. His family were Christian, and he was raised in the Kyodan church. I detest the Nihon Kirisuto Kyodan. The Kyodan is the largest Christian denomination in Japan, and is the product of pre-war Japanese nationalism. Before the war, the Japanese government knew they could never fully get control of the population if there was an opposition voice. To get control of the Japanese church they nationalized all the churches in Japan, and put them under the department of education. That way they could control what was taught from the Christian pulpits in Japan. After the war, MacArthur separated state and religion, and placed the church outside of government regulation. The conservative pastors bolted, and went independent, or started various other denominations, but the liberal group held together under the denomination of the Nihon Kirisuto Kyodan. Like the Three Self state church in China, there are some evangelical pastors in the Kyodan, but their seminaries and leadership are strongly liberal. I told Toru, “There is no way you can get saved when you are going to a liberal church where the pastor does not believe the Bible or preach salvation by Christ alone. You must get out of that environment.”

Two weeks later I had a most unusual call from Toru. He said he had dropped out of school, and wanted to come to Karuizawa to work for me as a teacher in the Japanese language school. I took him on as a teacher and said, “You can live with us.” The Cooks were famous in Karuizawa for our open home. Over the years we had many live with us ranging from students to yakuza (Mafia), drunkards, and mental cases. Of the many who lived with us, Toru was hands down the finest. Rosemary loved him. He was the politest, most helpful, and generally the best guest we ever had in our home. And he turned out to be a first-class teacher. He was very popular with the missionary students.

But Toru's spirit was the main thing. Seldom have I seen a person take hold of the Lord with both hands like Toru. His walk with the Lord and testimony was wonderful. Whenever I had a meeting that was getting dull, or slowing down, I would call on Toru for a testimony. What he had to say was always so fresh, invariably, that would pick up the meeting. As the months went on Toru shared with me that he wanted to go on to be a pastor. I said, “That sounds good to me. You seem to have the gift for it.” But I warned him that it was critical that he go to a good seminary. That was a problem.

His parents were furious, and his mother called me complaining that I was bad-mouthing and critical of their family religion. They had no objection to Toru being a pastor, but insisted that he must go to their Kyodan seminary. I strongly warned Toru against it; but at last he said, “I must obey my parents.” The last I saw him I pleaded, “If those professors say against against the person of Christ, or the Word of God, don't sit there and take it. Stand up and walk out.” He promised me that he would, and that he would come to see us often. Shortly after that we left Japan to return to the states for a furlough, and I lost contact with him.

Eighteen months later we were back in Japan and I was working one evening at the Bible school. I set tools down and looked up to see Toru standing in front of me. Oh my goodness, what a thrill! I grabbed him in a warm embarrass and said, “Brother! Brother!” But what came out of his mouth was ridiculous. It was gibberish. I said, “Toru, you have lost your English. Your speech is terrible.” I was thrilled to take him home for supper.

But that was one of the depressing moments of my life. Toru was radically different. It was as black and white a case of demonetization as I had ever seen. He tried to be normal, but every time I opened the Bible, prayed, or spoke of the Lord, a sick, suppressed, laughter would compulsively come out of his mouth. He would apologize, but he could not stop the mocking laughter when anything spiritual came up. He had gotten into a demonic cult, and was intensely evangelistic trying to convert me. A liberal seminary professor in comparative religion had gotten him off the track, and he had gone the whole nine yards in search of this demonic religion. The next morning when I took him back into town, I told him frankly, “Toru, you obviously have a serious problem with demonetization. I can cast those demons out of you, but it is up to you whether or not you want help.” A sad look fell over his face as he turned and walked away. That was the last I saw him.

A year later we were down in Ikoma when I received a call from a friend in Karuizawa. Toru had murdered his grandfather, a house maid, and a policeman. It was news on national television. A few days later, I had a call from a detective in Tokyo asking what I thought of Toru. I didn't tell him that he was demonized, but said he was as kooky as you could get. He talked about aliens coming from outer space, etc. The detective agreed with me that he was totally off his rocker. The court verdict was that he was criminally insane, and he was committed to an institution. So much for liberal theology.

Several years later, my life had gone to zero. I had lost my family, my home, friends , and ministry. I happened to be back on Karuizawa for a few day when I ran into Toru in town. I had no idea he was out of the insane asylum. Needless to say he was a much different person than the vibrant Christian man who had lived with us several years previously. He was a broken, desperate, starved being. He clung to me like I was his last chance in life. I was really komaru (big problem). My heart deeply went out to him. I don't know what happened to the demons. He wasn't as black and white as he was in our home that night. His attachment to the demonic cult seemed to be gone. Medication had greatly changed his mind, and he was under strong medication to keep him from becoming dangerous again. Obliviously, the doctors in the asylum felt he was safe enough to be released back into society.

His family was tragic. When he had murdered his Todai grandfather, his father had resigned from Todai in disgrace. Tokyo University could not have on staff, faculty of a family like that. Toru was a social vegetable. It was impossible for him to be a normal productive member of society. His hope of being a professor or pastor was gone. He found some semi-Christian social organization who took him on as a volunteer worker. They were kind in doing so, but he could never be normal. It was critical that he always be heavily sedated with medication.

When Toru saw me, he was like a drowning man clutching for anything that would keep him afloat. Of course, if he could come back and live with me, perhaps, he could get rehabilitated to life. But I was in the same boat as he was. I was a homeless man drifting around building churches and houses for free. I had no home of my own. But there was one ray of hope. Kichijoji.

In previous years, my friend, Gotthold Beck, was fantastic in taking in desperate cases and worked with people that no one else would touch. I felt that Toru's greatest need was love, acceptance, and trust. I have never gone over the brink myself, or taken medication, but I am familiar with crushing stress and marginal stability. In my lowest moments, I knew the one thing I needed to save me was for someone to accept me and have a little confidence in me. At the lowest point in my life, my friend, Robbie Edmonds, was God's provision. His comradeship and confidence saved me, and kept me going. If someone would step forward and do that for Toru, I felt that would be the greatest chance for success. But my hope was dashed.

I went to the Kichijoji Christian Center in Karuizawa and talked with a couple of the main workers there. Times had changed. Whereas years ago, Gotthold Beck was dealing with a relatively small handful of people, now there were over a thousand. The new workers didn't want to take on marginal kooks; and one man warned, “We don't know about his medication. If he doesn't take his medication he might kill someone.” No we don't want anyone like that around here. End of story. Toru later wrote me, but there was nothing I could do to help him. No, I don't like liberals.

By God's grace still in Christ,              bill