Mr. Chang Shing Yang

In less than a month, Dad would have celebrated his 96th birthday. In January of this year, Dad and Mom celebrated 66 years of marriage. His life and our mother’s life are intertwined and, therefore, in remembering him today, we are deeply aware of Mom’s importance in his life. As children and grandchildren, we have much to celebrate and to be thankful for.

So, how does one begin to speak of a man who lived through so much of history? We can only provide a snapshot of his incredible life. This tribute will not do him justice, but hopefully it will provide a way for us to continue to remember him and to fill in the spaces with our own stories and memories.

He was born Yang Ang Guo on October 13, 1914 in China, to a powerful political family that was involved in the revolution that overthrew the Manchu dynasty. He began his military career at the young age of 16, when he left home for military academy training in Japan and then in Germany and Austria where he spent a total of 7 years. Upon his return from Europe, Dad became involved in what was soon a tumultuous time in his life and in the life China as war broke out with Japan in 1937. Dad was at the forefront of it all, followed by China’s own civil war that ended in 1949. During this time of great upheaval, he married our mother, Ho Sien, through an exchange of pictures (this is a story for another time). Soon Diana, Ruey, and Michael were born. When the government retreated to Taiwan in 1949, the family left China and settled in Macau.

While in Macau, Dad became a Christian through our Mom’s witness. By all accounts, she was patient and unwavering in her witness. During this time in Macau, he became a math teacher at a Christian school until the family departed for America in December of 1963. He came to Phoenix, Arizona, when he was 49 years old and built a wholly new and different kind of life with Mom and all six children, which now included Philip, myself, and Dorothy.

Through all the twists and turns of his life, we believe he grew to be a man who felt his life to be abundant. We remembered him to be one who was filled with gratitude. He focused not on his losses, which were many. One could say he lost much when he left China--his country, his remaining family in China, his high-ranking status, to name a few. Yet, instead he focused on his family and his faith. He took work that, to a proud man, would have been difficult, but he did it for us. He worked in the kitchen of different restaurants in the valley and retired as a sous chef at the AZ Biltmore, for which he was proud. He took up learning another language, adding to his German and Japanese. He discovered that reading the newspaper comics was a great way to teach himself conversational English and to learn American idioms. Dad was always learning. He was keenly aware of world events. He had that scholar’s bent that looked at history and current events with a thoughtful and critical eye.

He was a man of few words and modest needs. His sustenance came from a very deep source. He found strength and peace through his daily meditation of scripture and prayer. His language was one of gratitude to God for the many blessings of his life, the blessing in having a devoted and loving wife and the stability she brought to his life and to the life of the family; the blessing of knowing the love of his children, their spouses, and 7 grandchildren, and the health and sharp mind he enjoyed for much of his life. He was gracious and grateful to the end. In the end he expressed his gratitude by his smile, his touch, and the loving kiss of our hands.

We would like to extend our gratitude to Pastor Lee and his wife Helen for being there for dad when he needed pastoral care. He was deeply touched by your presence. We would like to express our gratitude to Grace Asian Bible Church, and to their special presence with us in spirit. He knew he was part of this larger family who thought of him and prayed for him, and shared the Chinese newspaper with him. The Chinese newspaper was his lifeline to the world, especially to China, the beloved country of his birth.

We see our Dad as a private and complex man whose life was uprooted and upended in no small way from early on in his life. But in the midst of challenges and hardships, with Mom always by his side, he found a way to become what we remember of him, as kind, grateful, reflective, prayerful, loving and faithful. He’s now at home in the presence of Christ who has prepared a room, a place for him. His life and his faith are an encouragement to all of us--to Mom whom he loved so much, to his children, their spouses, and grandchildren, whom he loved with great pride and joy.

Tina, Daughter

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Remembering Yang Ang-Guo (Chang Shing Yang), By William Chu

Ang-Guo was born and raised in a family of power and wealth in the early turbulent years of the Chinese republic. His father, General Yang Hu, a born-warrior of great courage and brave deeds, was a military leader for the cause of Dr. Sun’s revolution in the Shanghai delta area. In due course, General Yang became essentially an overlord of that region, powerful and wealthy, wielding influence over all strata of its complex society. According to my mother, Ang-Guo, as the first-born son of General Yang’s affluent and privileged family, had all the adoration and loving care the entire household of hundreds could lavish on him, and lived in complete luxury and security. His father had great expectation of him --- having given him a name meaning ‘bringing peace and security to the country’--- and took much care nurturing his character and strengths. Ang-Guo grew up unspoiled and disciplined, and was sent to Germany’s military academy to complete his formal training for a military career. He returned to a China at war with Japan and promptly plunged in as an artillery officer, eventually rising to the rank of Major General in command of artillery regiments and garrisons in the Chinese National Army.

In 1943, my mother took my sisters, Esther and Margaret, from Shanghai to Chungking, the then war-time capital of China. They were welcome and entertained by General Yang Hu. Ang-Guo met and married Esther --- my mother said that it was truly ‘love at first sight’. I met my new brother-in-law for the first time in 1946, and was immediately struck by his absolute openness, his natural modesty (nearly to a fault) and quiet strength of moral character, and by his deep love for my dear sister. My admiration only grew and deepened over the long years since.

Two decades after their union, Ang-Guo and Esther brought their six teenage children to the United States to start their new life in Phoenix, Arizona. Being unequipped for engaging in a non-military professional career in the new country, he plunged in, with the very same vigor and selflessness with which he served his ‘old’ country in war, to work as an apprentice in a local Chinese restaurant. It was awe-inspiring for all of us to witness the way Ang-Guo, a distinguished military officer in his younger days, so unhesitatingly started the new chapter of his life for his family in the manner he did. Together with Esther, who joined the labor force of GE’s computer facility, they were able to manage their lives financially and gave their children the full gifts of love, security, education and opportunities in their formative years.

I recall vividly how Ang-Guo took joy describing to me during the sixties some new expertise he might have gained in the art of food preparation and services, which was his new profession. Not once did he ever look back. But most importantly, he lived in later years the spiritual life of a Christian with such great joy and dedication. I was re-inspired every time I got to see him, the true man of God, however brief the occasion might be.

Ang-Guo now has entered into a new life ‘dwelling in the house of the Lord’ in eternity. I am just thankful that I was granted the privilege of knowing this very wonderful man during his sojourn here.

William Chu

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Scripture Reading by Jim Yang-Hellewell, Son-in-Law:

John 14: 1-6

1"Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me. 2In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. 3And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. 4You know the way to the place where I am going."

5Thomas said to him, "Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?" 6Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.

In the Gospel of John, Jesus tells his followers: “In my Father’s house are many rooms”

Some commentators have interpreted this, not only as a vision of a future life in heaven, but as a rich image of the generosity and diverse quality of the Christian faith, that the Christian faith has many expressions….many rooms. To speak of many rooms is to speak not about one thing.

Some say that a simple faith is best; maybe or maybe not. I don’t believe that Dad’s faith was entirely a simple faith. His faith became stronger as he grew older, certainly, but it wasn’t simple.

I suspect that over time Dad’s personal history, his life with his family, had many rooms. He was a man who changed over time.

I also think that his faith had many rooms, that like any faith that is alive, it moved and changed.

I do know that in his Sunday morning conversations with his daughter he showed himself to be a thinking man with a thinking man’s faith. He showed himself sometimes to be one who wrestled with angels, not unlike the very human OT characters he loved. Unlike so many of us, Dad actually read, knew and reflected on Scripture. And he engaged Scripture. It became part of him. Scripture was his reference point as he reflected on the world, current events, history, China and life and death.

He was a man who saw much in his life. As a young man, he was in Europe as demonic forces spread across that continent to plunge the world into a Great War. He saw revolution, world powers, leaders and dictators, political movements and great ideologies, rise and fall, and, I suspect, he witnessed his share of death.

Even in the relative peace of this country as a man, with a family uprooted, I think he continued to wrestle.

I think as he grew older, his faith became stronger. He had his routine of prayer and Scripture reading, but I don’t believe he ever stopped thinking about his faith. His mind was clear to the end.

I know that in those Sunday morning conversations with his daughter he continued to reflect on the big issues. He disliked hypocrisy and shallowness, and I know he came to dislike violence and war. All of his opinions were filtered through his faith and the reading of Scripture.

In the last years and days I saw a peace in him. He and I were separated by the great divides of language and years and culture and history. Yet my respect and love took root. He was a man of some complexities; a man who had lived in many rooms. It was because of this that he touched something deep in me, something familiar. Maybe it was the struggle to be a man of faith in this difficult world, or maybe it was just to struggle as a man, a husband and father; or maybe it was just that we shared a fondness for the very human characters of the Old Testament. Whatever the reason, I felt close to him in those last days, even in the silence.

Importantly, in those Sunday morning conversations with his daughter, he allowed her also to reflect on her faith. He listened and she felt understood because he allowed her faith not to be just one thing. He allowed her faith to have many rooms.

To his grandchildren, wherever you are in your young lives and whatever faith journey you are on, whatever many rooms you inhabit, I know that your grandfather loved you with a grandfather’s great pride. Like his faith, his love grew to have a generosity and broadness. It was a love and faith with many rooms.

Jim Yang-Hellewell, Son-in-Law