Ancient of Days — The Journey

From Buddhism to Christianity: How Jesus Captured My Heart

The Journey, Winter 2022

Written by Malcolm “Mal” Tanigawa with Bonnie Church

The Lord provides for us, His children, in every way, from small things to larger ones. Some stand out as particularly noteworthy for each one of us. I remember how the Lord has provided for me over the years.

I was born in Hawaii in 1941, just months before Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. Like most Japanese families, we were Buddhist-Shinto.

Buddhists believe in a cycle of death and rebirth that continues until a person achieves an enlightened state. One’s reincarnated state is dependent on the Karmic debt —good and bad behavior — they have accrued in life. Shinto tradition holds that after death, a person’s spirit passes on to another world and watches over their descendants.

I grew up in a three-generational family. We lived behind my grandparents’ flower shop in central Honolulu. In keeping with our religious tradition, we maintained a family shrine. It was an ornate black lacquer and gold model embellished with tiny wooden plaques, resembling gravestones inscribed with ancestral names. It was housed in a prominent nook in our home.

Every morning Grandfather and Grandmother would pause briefly before the shrine and utter a short prayer. Before dinner at night, my grandmother would put a tiny portion of freshly cooked rice into a tiny rice bowl and place it in the center of the shrine. At the end of each year, Grandfather would sit before the shrine and chant for an hour from a little book.

As head of the family, my grandfather had the responsibility to take care of the shrine. It would pass to my father when Grandfather passed away. As the first-born son, of the first-born son, care of that shrine would pass to me when my father passed away.

When I turned six, every Sunday morning I would accompany my grandmother to the Buddhist temple. I was the only child in the congregation. I didn't understand the reason for the endless gongs, chimes, and chanting. I passed the hour by flicking tiny spitballs here and there while trying to avoid detection by Grandmother. I was quietly gleeful whenever one of my spitballs would lodge in Mrs. Tanaka's hair in the next pew.

Sometimes I felt pangs of remorse for the scattering of spitballs. However, every Sunday the pews would be completely devoid of spitballs.

Years later, with the release of the TV series "Kung Fu," it occurred to me that the temple likely had "grasshoppers," young monks in training, who were assigned to gather my spitballs. Any remorse I felt disappeared.

No one ever sat me down and taught me the tenets of Buddhism or our Shinto tradition. We all participated in the various events, from Sakura-Matsuri, the Cherry Blossom Festival, to O-Bon, when the spirits of our ancestors would visit us on earth. As I understood it, the basic tenet was to do good because bad things happen to bad people.

***Mal with his two brothers, Wayne and Carl***

My parents wanted their sons to receive a good education. The best option was Iolani, an Episcopal day prep school for boys in Honolulu. Each student was required to have a prayer book and a hymnal. Though my mother was not a Christian, she took me aside and taught me the Lord's prayer, saying that I would need to memorize it.

During my years at Iolani, I don't recall ever hearing about the saving work of Christ. Yet, there was a strong drive in me to know God. Sometimes my brothers and I would be asked to sing before dessert. My brothers chose to sing trendy songs. I always sang hymn 274, "Ancient of Days" from my hymnal.

Ancient of Days, who sittest, throned in glory,
To Thee all knees are bent, all voices pray;
Thy love hast blest the wide world's wondrous story
With light and life since Eden's dawning day.

I wanted to know this “Ancient of Days,” and I knew I would not find it among the Buddhists.

I would often pray for things that I wanted or for things that I wanted to happen. Even though quick and silent, my parents noticed that I was praying, and that worried them. They began to make comments, such as, "It's okay to be religious, but don't become a fanatic."

Because of difficulty in the construction business, my father worked on Johnston Island in the Pacific, and then on Okinawa. I was in junior high at the time, and my grandfather did his best to nurture my growth. We went to baseball games together, to club activities of the particular group of Japanese who emigrated from the same region of Japan, to the Judo club, where my father had earned his black belt.

In the summer of 1956, our family moved to Okinawa. My dad had taken a job with the Army Corp of Engineers at Fort Buckner. I attended Kubasaki High School for American dependents. While there, I studied Okinawan Karate. My interest in martial arts continues to this day. I currently teach Tai Chi to seniors.

When I graduated in 1959, I entered Michigan State University, where I majored in mathematics. As I was boarding the military sea transport in Okinawa that would take me to San Francisco, my parents admonished me, "Remember, Malcolm, don't become a fanatic." They both shook my hand (our family was not into hugging).

Far away from home and from my parents, I found the freedom to search for God. Though I attended many different churches, it wasn't until the end of my junior year at a Campus Crusade for Christ (Cru) meeting that I finally heard that Jesus Christ was calling me, and I responded. Unlike Buddhist teaching where one is bound to karmic debt, I learned that God provided a Savior to save me from my debt of sin, declared me righteous, and personally loves me."

Summer break came and it was time to return home and visit my parents before my senior year. I did not want to worry them that I had become a believer, so I did not share my newfound faith. Upon returning to campus, my friends sensed my enthusiasm for serving Christ had quieted. Again, God provided. I was not left alone in this spiritual low point. I was able to spend time with a new Cru staff person, Jim Green, who gently drew me back to the Lord. I enjoyed an active senior year with the Cru team as I learned and grew in Christ.

During my freshman year, in May of 1960, the U2 reconnaissance plane flown by Francis Gary Powers was shot down over the Soviet Union. I was extremely proud that our country could build a plane that could fly so high that they couldn’t shoot it down during the many previous missions. When I found out that the CIA had built that plane, I decided that was where I wanted to work.

During my junior year at a career fair, I met John Bigelow of the CIA. He assured me that the CIA was seeking mathematicians and encouraged me to apply for a position. I filled out an extensive application. but forgot to include passport-size photos. The Agency contacted me during the spring of that year and requested that I submit my photos. With so many things going on in my life, I put the photo request aside to focus on pressing matters.

The next year, the same John Bigelow was there at Career Fair and sought me out. He again encouraged me to submit my photographs. I did, and in 1963 I entered duty with the CIA in Washington, D.C. It was not just a dream come true; it was a calling.

After working for the CIA for two years, some dear friends, Bob and Bernie Strain, invited me to join them in their new home and assignment. They were relocating to Oregon to establish a prayer breakfast ministry on the west coast — a ministry patterned after the National Prayer Breakfast held annually in Washington, D.C.

***Young Mal outside his family’s flower shop in Hawaii***

Though the opportunity to live with the Strains was attractive, it would mean quitting my dream job and disappointing my parents, who continued to be concerned that I had become a Christian fanatic. I was conflicted. Then one day it became clear to me. I needed to step out in faith, leave my dream job and move west to work with the Strains.

My parents accepted my decision but were not pleased. My employer was also disappointed in my decision. I was learning that sometimes obeying the Lord, meant disappointing others, but my Lord was leading me to the northwest. The verse of Scripture that I embraced then and since is from Proverbs 4:23 (NASB):

Watch over your heart with all diligence

For from it flow the springs of life.

I left my position with the CIA and moved west. To support myself, I secured a position as a technical representative for UNIVAC, which had built the first general-purpose electronic digital computer.

As a young believer in need of discipleship, I was blessed with the opportunity to live with this wonderful family. I watched and learned the dynamics of a young family committed to the Lord. Those lessons would serve me well in the days ahead.

I had learned much from being part of the family and ministry, but after two years, I felt it was time to return east. During my time in the northwest, my former supervisor at the CIA called monthly to inquire whether I was ready to return. This time I was ready.

Again, God provided. Not only did they take me back, but they offered me a promotion in their newly formed research and development office. This was a better-paying position and offered more opportunities for advancement. The CIA paid for my MBA and provided additional education and training at Harvard, Carnegie Mellon, Stanford, and the Brookings Institution.

During my 48 years with the CIA, I traveled much — in Europe, the Middle East, Far East, but mostly domestically and primarily in Silicon Valley. I worked on cutting-edge technologies and with fascinating people. Those were exciting years.

Richard Halverson, my pastor at the Fourth Presbyterian Church in Washington, who had urged me to move to Oregon with the Strains, now urged me to brush up on my Japanese language skills. Though raised in a Japanese family I had a mere rudimentary knowledge of the language. I needed a tutor, and God provided a wonderful tutor in Yaeko Arthur. She was not only lovely and very bright but also had a profound relationship with Jesus Christ.

When Yaeko was a teenager struggling along with her family in post-war Japan, she was led to Christ by John Arthur on Okinawa. John and his wife Marie wanted to provide Yaeko with an education in the U.S. It was a tough road amidst severe immigration quotas for Japan. The State Department encouraged the Arthurs to pursue adoption. Yaeko’s natural mother assented after being assured that Yaeko would always be her daughter and could return at any time. After many trips to Washington D.C. by Margaret, Connie, and Janice Arthur (daughters of John and Marie), many meetings and an act of Congress, Yaeko became one of the Arthur sisters and was free to come to America to study.

I fell in love with my tutor. The Japanese language is difficult, and I struggled. I decided that instead of wrestling with the language, I would marry my teacher. My parents approved of my engagement to Yaeko and were beginning to accept that I was a committed Christian.

When my Grandfather Tanigawa passed away, I was a student in Michigan and my parents were in Okinawa. My Aunt Rose, as the oldest sibling, assumed caretaking of the family shrine until my father returned to Hawaii. My dad never returned. He died in Okinawa. His body was to be flown to Hawaii for the last rites. Yaeko and I were to meet the family there.

I realized the family expectation was that I, the oldest son, would take responsibility of caring for the family shrine. Oh, how Yaeko and I prayed during our entire trip. I felt no allegiance to the Buddhist–Shinto religious traditions. I could not accept this responsibility.

We met the military flight carrying Mother along with Dad's casket. After family greetings, my mother with great urgency wanted to talk to Yaeko and me alone at the airport. She said to us, “Malcolm and Yaeko, I know that you are strong Christians and do not believe in the Buddhist ways. I don’t want my son to bear this burden. So, when we cremate Dad, let’s cremate the shrine with him. Let’s end this now.” Our breaths were taken away! I could only nod as we wept. The joy of being released from that burden, with the blessing of my mother, was another provision of the Lord!

Yaeko and I enjoyed a strong and harmonious marriage. We were blessed with a wonderful son, David, and daughter, Susan. Yaeko was able to stay at home with the children while I tended to my responsibilities with the CIA.

From the beginning, Yaeko struggled with health issues. As a child growing up during the war, she experienced deprivation that permanently impacted her health. As she aged, the health issues increased. Eventually, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. The cancer did go into remission, but her health continued to decline.

At the time, we lived in a large home in Virginia and enjoyed being part of the faith community at the Fourth Presbyterian Church. Our children were now grown, and it was time to simplify our lives. We moved to a retirement community in northern Virginia. We also owned a townhouse in Boone to use for vacations and to offer as a respite place for our missionaries. When our daughter moved into our Boone home, she urged us to move also, so that she could help in the care of her mother.

After 51 years of marriage, my precious wife died. On the day she died the two of us were sitting at our breakfast table. Her final words were, “Thank you, Lord.” That was a sad day. Though I knew she was in a better place, it did not stop the pain. To lose her was wrenching. There is no other way to explain it.

We had only lived in Boone a short time, but our new family at Alliance Bible Fellowship held a small intimate funeral service in her honor. We also returned to our beloved family at Fourth for a memorial service. More than 300 people turned out, a testament to how deeply loved Yaeko was to all who knew her. My Yaeko made a deep impression on many people. She truly loved God with all of her heart, mind, soul and strength, and she had loved her neighbor as herself.

I am content in the Lord and in my portion. During my entire life, He has provided for me in every way, from the smallest, immediate answers to prayer to some very big provisions. At this writing, I recall some:

His calling during my childhood;
The CRU ministry at college where Christ made Himself known;
The exciting work at CIA;
The saints at the Fourth Presbyterian Church, Bethesda, MD;
The Strain family for moving me from spiritual milk to solid food;
My dear, precious Yaeko;
A wise mother, Charlotte Tanigawa;
A new life in Boone;
The saints at the Alliance Bible Fellowship, Boone, NC.

These are some highlights of my years, but I know that there are countless provisions from the Lord of which I am unaware. He has protected me, clothed me, fed me. He provides for all His children, everyone, in unique and personal ways. My provision from Him is unique to me.

Thank you, Lord.