While the martyrdom of St. Paul Miki and Companions is generally celebrated as a memorial on the 6th February, in Japan, we celebrate it as a feast on the 5th February, which is the true date when the martyrdom took place in Nagasaki in 1597, forty-eight years after St. Francis Xavier introduced Christianity to Japan. Furthermore, we call the Martyrs simply “The Twenty-six Saints”. This is enough for us to recognize them, the first Saints of Japan and the cornerstones of Christianity in Japan.
This is my personal story; when I was seven years old, my family moved to Nagasaki, where my father came from. Soon after our new life started, my aunt showed me around the tourist attractions in Nagasaki. What impressed me most then were a ‘sake’-bottle melted and deformed by the extreme heat displayed in the Atomic Bomb Museum, the one-legged ‘torii’ (a gateway of a Shinto shrine) whose another massive leg was blown away by the fierce wind caused by the Atomic Bomb, and among other things, the bronze monument of the 26 Martyrs on the hill of Nishizaka. Though I was little and non-Christian then, and I vaguely made sense of what had happened to them, I remember feeling a mix of awe and fear when I saw the scene before me. Among those crucified, some children looked to be as old as I was—specifically, the youngest one, Louis Ibaragi, was only twelve years old. Yet, despite their suffering, all the people on the crosses seemed filled with joy as they looked up at Heaven, even as they were dying.
The experience left a lasting impression on me. Out of fear, I had avoided the site until the day before I entered Imari. I chose the monument of the 26 Martyrs as the final place to visit before starting my monastic life. Perhaps, unknowingly, I identified monasticism with martyrdom and hoped to find encouragement from the Martyrs.
As a nun, I have listened to the reading of their martyrdom every year on the 5th of February, which always moves me deeply. Furthermore, I was shocked by the fact that I had never known; the Martyrs who were arrested in Kyoto and Osaka had their left ears cut off on the order of Hideyoshi Toyotomi, the ruler of Japan at the time, and were paraded around through the streets; after harsh mocks and scorns, they marched the 890 kilometers way to Nagasaki, where they were to be crucified, on foot in the snowy and coldest weather of winter; they were twenty-four at the start, and two more joined on the way, who had not been on the first list of the captives, but were arrested just because they accompanied the Martyrs to take care of them and they were ‘kirishitan’ (Christian) as well. One could say that they happened to become martyrs. The two laymen, Francis Kichi, the carpenter, and Peter Sukejiro, could have denied their companions by saying “I do not know them” as Simon Peter denied Jesus, but they did not. On the contrary, they willingly joined the march of the Martyrs with great joy. Could I have done the same?
The world today seems to be on fire, by the missiles and fire of hatred. Human dignity is often regarded as lighter than dust. Where on earth is hope now? “Hope in God! I will praise him still, my Saviour, my God.” (Ps 42.6) The 26 Martyrs could have sung this verse on the way to their crosses. “Only faith can guarantee the blessings that we hope for.” (Heb 11.1) The faith of the Martyrs bore witness to the sublimity of human nature, the likeness of Christ, on the threshold of their life and death. Here we see Hope. This is Hope for the turbulent world now.
Somewhere in the picturesque view from Mount Koshidake, where our monastery is situated, once there was the way where the 26 Martyrs marched, tied and mocked, praising and giving thanks to God. May their songs still echo to all the corners of the world! May their prayers still touch the hearts of all people on earth! ◼
