Japan has become one of the world’s biggest hotspots for tourism since the country reopened its borders for tourists following the pandemic. In 2024, Japan set a new record for inbound tourists, reaching nearly 37 million. That’s the population of Florida, Tennessee, Georgia, and Alabama combined! In fact, so many tourists have been pouring into the country that many local governments have been forced to get creative to deal with overtourism. Some locations have begun to impose high entrance fees in an attempt to mitigate the excessive numbers of visitors they are receiving. In another case, a literal wall was built to prevent tourists from crowding in problematic areas to take a popular photo.
Why is Japan so popular right now? At least one significant reason is surely the “weeb” culture. For those who don’t know, “weeb” is a term that refers to serious Japan geeks. Weebs are people who love anime, manga, Japanese food, Japanese language, and just about anything else that they can get their hands on. For a hardcore weeb, Japan is basically the promised land. While not everyone goes that far, the culture has promulgated online enough to generate interest across a broad demographic.
I was watching a video recently by the popular Japan-based Youtuber Dogen called, “The Psychology of the Disillusioned Foreigner.” In this video, Dogen discusses how he himself was a weeb, but when he actually came to Japan, after the brief honeymoon period, he quickly found himself struggling with life here. Although he eventually overcame this, he astutely observes a common trend among a certain kind of person who moves here. They come thinking Japan is heaven-on-earth, a place where they will finally fit in and find their true home. But when they actually get here, it’s not long before this dream is shattered by the reality of life in Japan.
All of this has gotten me thinking about how this ties in with Japan missions. It’s been on my mind for a while actually, but Dogen’s video helped me put some missing pieces together.
My Japan Story
Let me back up for a moment and tell my own story. I lived in Japan as a kid in the early 90s. My father was in the U.S. Marine Corps, and our family ended up stationed first in Okinawa, then in Iwakuni. I was only 10 years old when we came, and this was before the days of the internet (yes, I’m that old), so I didn’t have any sense of weebishness whatsoever. I really knew nothing about Japan. I knew that they had earthquakes and tsunamis, and I knew I had to fly across the Pacific Ocean to get there (which inspired anxiety-induced drawings of crashing and being eaten by sharks). So I really came to Japan with no expectations (other than violent death, apparently).
Over the years, our family built memories here and Japan became just another part of the background of childhood. We eventually moved back to America, and I didn’t really think about it too much anymore. I didn’t long to return to Japan. I was happy to be home, and went on with my life like usual.
I honestly didn’t think about going back to Japan again until I was in college. I studied French all four years of high school, and then minored in it in college, which in part led to me doing a semester abroad in Verviers, Belgium. At this point in my life, I had begun to think about the importance of the Great Commission, and I even met some college-age missionaries while we were in Belgium who were part of the AIM program. As I went into my senior year, I started thinking more seriously about missions. The natural place to go would have been France or Belgium. After all, I could speak the language. But, for some reason, I started thinking about Japan, and began searching for ways to come to Japan for mission work. The prospect was very exciting to me at the time.
Long story short, that all fell through, I got married, we moved to North Carolina for youth ministry, and it wasn’t until I was 27 that the door opened to come to Japan. I was initially excited about finally making this dream come true, and yet, I distinctly remember being on the train from the Kansai airport to our hotel in Osaka, looking out the window and thinking, “What have I done?” For the first several months, I struggled with frequent panic attacks. I would wake up in the middle of the night hyperventilating. I didn’t have much of a honeymoon period; I just wanted to go home. To be fair, I already had one child and Sara was pregnant with our second, so there was a lot of new stress at the time. But, we stuck it out, and by God’s grace, things got better. And then, in March 2011 (exactly 14 years ago today, in fact), the big earthquake and tsunami hit. We were safe and far away, but it got Sara and me thinking about the need for the work in Japan. All of this ultimately led to the longer-term work we have done over the past 13 years.
I was never really a weeb. Okay, I admit I owned a bokken and a DVD set of Cowboy Bebop, but still, I really wasn’t. Much of my interest in Japan was generated from having lived there as a kid – it was childhood nostalgia. That same experience grounded me, and kept me from imagining Japan as something it really wasn’t. I had at least some understanding of what living in Japan was like. What brought our family back to Japan after that initial year was a genuine desire to be a part of the work here. In the summer of 2011, while still living in Japan, we flew back to the U.S. and tried out for a youth ministry job in Ohio. That church ultimately offered us the job, and I desperately wanted to take it. The church was incredible, and I could just imagine my little girls playing in our quaint backyard in the plush green grass at sunset. That is what I wanted. But Sara and I knew we wouldn’t be taking the job for the ministry, but for ourselves. Meanwhile, Japan needed workers, and we could do it. So we decided to move back. I’m not going to tell you my motives were always pure and righteous in every way, but I can tell you turning down that job was one of the harder things I have done.
The Danger of Japan Missions
Many people do not share my story though. A lot of people become interested in Japan in the way Dogen describes. Maybe it starts as something rather innocuous – a couple of visits to a local Japanese restaurant, an introduction to some particular anime, or a series of random videos on Youtube. This slowly evolves into an ever-growing collection of anime and countless hours spent on Youtube learning Japanese and how to make your own sushi at home. The path to full-blooded Japanophile can be surprisingly sudden. And for certain people, Japan feels more like home than, well, home. They feel like they were made for Japan – cultural dysphoria, we might call it.
Don’t misunderstand me: I have nothing against weebs. I don’t use that term in a derogatory way, and I don’t think it’s bad to be excited by Japan and its culture, within reason. I understand the appeal (after all, I really did own a bokken). However, this can be dangerous when it becomes tied to mission work.
First, there is a great danger that you will come to Japan and won’t be able to weather the “honeymoon-is-over” phase. Hopefully your honeymoon phase will last more than an hour, but rest assured, it will come to an end. I don’t care how much you think you love Japan – one day, something will begin to irritate you. You’ll get tired of sleeping on the floor. You’ll get tired of being so hot and sticky in the summer. You’ll get tired of the food (yes, this is possible). Maybe it will be as simple as missing your parents. Or maybe Japanese fluency eludes you, and you’ll find yourself growing frustrated with your inability to easily communicate. Maybe it will be all of these and more (being a missionary itself is challenging for myriad reasons). At that point, if the thing that drew you to Japan was not the ministry but rather anime and sushi, you’re going to find yourself in a tough spot. And, you will eventually find a way to escape. Meanwhile, the people who were relying on you, and the people who supported you, will be left in the dust. I’m not saying it’s wrong to leave a work, of course. There is a time and a place for that. But let that time and place be determined by the work itself, and by the Holy Spirit’s direction, not by the inability of weebish excitement to uphold your happiness. But that can only happen if the work itself and the Holy Spirit’s direction are what led you here in the first place.
The second danger is much more serious though, in my opinion – it is the danger that you will objectify the Japanese people. Instead of seeing them as people made in the image of God who are being called into his kingdom, you can easily come to see them through the lens of the anime world in your head. They cease to be real people with real struggles and real needs who you came to serve, and instead become anime people with anime lives who can serve you. You can’t serve people well when you can’t see them in truth, and that extends to the culture as well. To work in the Japanese church, have authentic discussions about faith with people, and certainly to preach and lead effectively, you have to be clued into the world as it really is. If what is truly pulling you to the country is not the ministry and mission but excitement over the prospect of living in Japan, the ministry and mission will take a backseat, and you may end up doing more harm than good. To be fair, missions itself can also lead to objectification, but that is another topic for another time.
A Better Way
To be clear, I’m not saying it’s bad to be excited about living in Japan. I believe God can use that excitement to draw people to the work here, and if you can maintain that joy as your understanding of the culture deepens, that’s wonderful. But if you’re thinking about doing work in Japan long-term, you need to think and plan beyond that. You have to check your heart and ask why you’re really coming and what is really motivating you. You need to do that for yourself, you need to do it for the people you are coming to serve, and you need to do it for the people who are partnering with you in the work. There’s nothing saying you can’t live in Japan just to live in Japan. You can live and work here and be a faithful Christian just like at home (though, there are unique challenges). But missionaries aren’t tourists, and it’s important to understand that before engaging in work in Japan. Missions should not be a tool to serve my own self-interests. It should be a way to serve the interests of God’s kingdom and the interests of the people who you come to serve. That path is not always easy. There are many challenges. But if that is really where your heart is, I believe you will find a deeper joy than the fleeting excitement of travel.
