The Martyrs of Japan (February 5)

The Episcopal sanctoral calendar recognizes February 5th as the commemoration of the Martyrs of Japan (Roman Catholics on February 6th).  I wrote a little bit about this on St. Agnes Day  because of the age of Agnes being close to that of an altar boy that was martyred in Nagasaki.

Here is an account from the Office of Readings for Roman Catholics tomorrow:

From an account of the martyrdom of Saint Paul Miki and his companions,
by a contemporary writer

Jacques Callot (French, 1592 - 1635) 1600s

The crosses were set in place. Father Pasio and Father Rodriguez took turns encouraging the victims. Their steadfast behaviour was wonderful to see. The Father Bursar stood motionless, his eyes turned heavenward. Brother Martin gave thanks to God’s goodness by singing psalms. Again and again he repeated: “Into your hands, Lord, I entrust my life.” Brother Francis Branco also thanked God in a loud voice. Brother Gonsalvo in a very loud voice kept saying the Our Father and Hail Mary.

Our brother, Paul Miki, saw himself standing now in the noblest pulpit he had ever filled. To his “congregation” he began by proclaiming himself a Japanese and a Jesuit. He was dying for the Gospel he preached. He gave thanks to God for this wonderful blessing and he ended his “sermon” with these words: “As I come to this supreme moment of my life, I am sure none of you would suppose I want to deceive you. And so I tell you plainly: there is no way to be saved except the Christian way. My religion teaches me to pardon my enemies and all who have offended me. I do gladly pardon the Emperor and all who have sought my death. I beg them to seek baptism and be Christians themselves.”

Then he looked at his comrades and began to encourage them in their final struggle. Joy glowed in all their faces, and in Louis’ most of all. When a Christian in the crowd cried out to him that he would soon be in heaven, his hands, his whole body strained upward with such joy that every eye was fixed on him.
Anthony, hanging at Louis’ side, looked toward heaven and called upon the holy names – “Jesus, Mary!” He began to sing a psalm: “Praise the Lord, you children!” (He learned it in catechism class in Nagasaki. They take care there to teach the children some psalms to help them learn their catechism).

Others kept repeating “Jesus, Mary!” Their faces were serene. Some of them even took to urging the people standing by to live worthy Christian lives. In these and other ways they showed their readiness to die.
Then, according to Japanese custom, the four executioners began to unsheathe their spears. At this dreadful sight, all the Christians cried out, “Jesus, Mary!” And the storm of anguished weeping then rose to batter the very skies. The executioners killed them one by one. One thrust of the spear, then a second blow. It was over in a very short time.

I visited the site of these martyrs a few years ago when I was a pastor in Japan. It was one of those spiritual experiences that is still hard to put into words.

The church I served was one of the first Protestant churches to be established after Japan reopened the country to foreigners.  My church was actually built adjacent to an ancient footpath that foreigners were to use when crossing the city of Kobe. Even after the country was open to the “gaijin” it was not always safe for a foreigner to walk through a Japanese neighborhood. The footpath was a place of safety.

Though the church had two other locations in its history, it was quite a testimony that the current building is on that footpath of safety.  Most foreigners that live in Kobe feel quite secure and safe.  The stories of the martyrs and the history of Christian oppression in Japan are not a factor in this modern city/country. Though less than 5% of the country identifies themselves as Christian, the people of Japan exhibit none of the hatred or violence from 500 years ago.

When I walked the city of Nagasaki for those few days, I was confronted with the many contrasts of history. It was the site of martyrdom of faithful Christians. Nagasaki was where the “Hidden Church” began in the late 1500’s and continued 250 years until missionaries and western churches returned to Japan. That same city was the place where thousands of Christians were killed along with other Japanese civilians with the dropping of the atomic bomb at the end of World War II.

Ground zero is now full of museums, memorials and peaceful gardens.  The churches of that city that were destroyed have been rebuilt are not museums to a dead faith, but are active and vital.

On this day when we remember the martyrs of Japan, I am reminded that faith is difficult to extinguish. They can kill some priests and lay people in a dramatic way, but the church survived 250 years even without buildings, scriptures and clergy.  Church buildings can be obliterated in the midst of war, and the faithful pick up the pieces and start over again.

Is it not the story of Easter all over again? They can put a Savior on the cross, but there is no guarantee that he will stay in the tomb.