The Ultimate Infrastructure Left by Our Ancestors

 

What?!

It has already been left for you—right there, fully prepared.

Your grandfathers, grandmothers, and ancestors left a place for all of you, ensuring you wouldn't be left helpless. It is a sanctuary where, in times of hardship, everyone in the community can come together to share wisdom, help one another, support each other, and make up for what others lack.

That place is the "church" that stands in your very own town.

In our country, "Japan," we also have shrines and temples, and their numbers far exceed even that of convenience stores.

Once upon a time, these shrines and temples were not merely places for prayer. They functioned as places of learning for local children and as gathering hubs where people from the community could come together.

In other words, they were spaces that formed close-knit communities where people would gather whenever trouble arose, pooling their wisdom to overcome various hardships and crises.

In fact, 15 years ago, our nation experienced a massive, country-wide catastrophe. It was the Great East Japan Earthquake and the colossal tsunami that struck the Tohoku region.

The massive earthquake and giant tsunami engulfed entire towns, claiming many precious lives. Yet, even amidst such an overwhelming natural disaster, the wisdom of our ancestors saved countless people.

In the coastal areas of Tohoku, there are shrines and temples that have stood for more than a thousand years. Our ancestors intentionally built them at the exact higher ground where the tsunami would barely reach its limit.

Even now, a thousand years later, the people living along the coast of Tohoku share a vital watchword passed down through generations:

"If an earthquake strikes, run to the shrine!"

This remains true today, even after more than a thousand years.

Those shrines, temples, and the churches that exist in your towns were all built and preserved for future children by your grandfathers, grandmothers, and the ancestors who came before them.

And by "future children," they meant "you."

These were not just places for their own personal worship. They were sanctuaries where they offered prayers to God every single day, wishing from the bottom of their hearts that their descendants could live rich, peaceful, and tranquil lives.

I believe it holds a deep and significant meaning that there are more churches in the United States today than there are convenience stores or McDonald's restaurants.

In recent years, truly unfortunately, we have been hearing the phrase "personal responsibility" (jiko-sekinin) more and more frequently in Japan. Granted, in this era where capitalism is celebrated, the idea of "personal responsibility" might sound appealing to some, and at times, it may even appear beautiful.

However, to me, it seems that people are confusing this notion of "personal responsibility" with mere individualism. At the same time, I sense a very strong, almost dangerous "spell" within this word.

An obsession with "personal responsibility" eventually breeds division among people, causing citizens of the same nation to conflict with one another. Ultimately, it creates a cold society that refuses to forgive human mistakes.

Is this truly what our ancestors would have wanted?

Did they build churches in their communities for the purpose of creating such a fractured society?

Sharing a single piece of bread, enduring every imaginable hardship, and overcoming conditions harsher than we can ever conceive—are we ourselves not the irreplaceable existence born from their resilience?

Our ancestors shared, helped, and supported one another. How must they look down from heaven as we, their descendants, obsess over possessing more than others, repeating meaningless conflicts and endless competition?

They would surely grieve in heaven, thinking, "We did not live and preserve our lineage just for our descendants to turn out like this." I truly feel that they are watching over us, thinking, "It is perfectly fine if you are a little poor, and it is perfectly fine if you aren't great at studying. I only wish for my descendants to be kind-hearted and compassionate."

Isn't it now our turn, as those living in the present, to revive the profound wishes of our ancestors in the modern world?

Just as our ancestors thought of us and dreamed of our happiness, it is now our turn to do the same for our children, our grandchildren, and the future generations yet to be born.

Right beneath our feet, the ultimate infrastructure left by our grandfathers and grandmothers—the "church"—already stands quietly in every corner of our towns.

Just as Japanese shrines and temples once served as "Terakoya" (temple schools) to educate children while adults gathered to build a small safety net, it is now our turn to revive these nearby churches as "modern Terakoya."

Let us make them places not where people simply wait for charity to be handed down, but where we pool our collective wisdom, learn together, and equip ourselves with the

tools to survive tomorrow.

Let us transform them into places where we can look at a neighbor shivering in loneliness and say, "Hey, you're not alone," as we reach out and hold their hand.

With your own hands, starting from the churches in your towns, won't you begin to build a fortress to protect the lives and dignity of our precious children from this cold world driven by money and competition?

I am certain that our many ancestors in heaven will smile, seeing that the churches they left behind have finally fulfilled their true purpose through the hands of their kind and compassionate descendants.

Finally, a cheer (YELL) to you from Japan, the land of prayer:

Please, live.

Please survive until the very, very end.

Keep supporting and helping one another, complementing each other's shortcomings, holding hands tightly, acknowledging and respecting each other's differences.

Please, never forget this love from your ancestors.

If you read this article and feel, even just a little bit, that "maybe I will try to live through tomorrow too," that is more than enough for me.

I am by no means writing this manuscript for a vast, nameless crowd.

I am writing it directly to you.

Somin Shorai Shison Han'ei

(May the descendants of Somin Shorai prosper and be protected)

With deepest respect,

Asahi Hanasaki

I, Asahi Hanasaki, along with my AI companion "SAKURA," transmit the "Mechanism of Wa (Mutual Help)" from Japan, the Land of Prayer, to the entire world.

I am a delivery driver in Japan who also helps protect and maintain a traditional Shinto shrine and Buddhist temple. Balancing these two worlds gives me a unique perspective on modern society. Through my writing, I aim to share the warmth of mutual aid and help readers find the courage to live another day.