Silence is a gripping novel, and now, a major motion picture. How does its subject matter relate to Ofunato?
A few local friends came over to our volunteer base for dinner one night, and one of them started singing the ubiquitous Disney song, “Let it Go,” in an unfamiliar language. This friend told us that it was Kesen-go, the dialect of the Kesen people, who inhabit an area that includes Ofunato.
I’ve heard Kesen-go spoken several times. It’s less even in tone and rhythm than standard Japanese. The melodic quality of Kesen-go is more reminiscent of languages such as Spanish, Portuguese, or Italian, at least to these untrained ears.
“That’s because the language has been influenced by foreigners,” piped up our Frozen-fan friend. “Maybe some English, Portuguese, or Dutch.”
Another friend chimed in. “Yes, our ancestors were smugglers from Nagasaki, and they were probably Christian.”
Wait, what?
Brief history lesson:* Nagasaki, on the island of Kyushu in Southwestern Japan, has historically been the most “Christian” part of Japan. It is where Portuguese explorers first made contact with Japan in 1543 and where the first missionary, the Jesuit Francis Xavier, began to evangelize in 1549. Jesuit missionaries successfully converted a number of daimyo, or feudal lords who were second only to the shogun.
Nagasaki became a point of contact between Japan and trade ships from Portugal and grew into a major port. With the city’s strong European influence, and perhaps aided by the ambitions of samurai who sought stronger ties with major trade partners along with easier access to saltpeter, an ingredient in gunpowder, Catholicism spread throughout southern Japan; the number of converts reportedly reached up to 200,000-300,000 Japanese by the end of the sixteenth century.
Nagasaki became a Jesuit colony in 1580. Alarmed by the growing influence of Catholicism and the threat of invasion by European powers, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the ruler of Japan, ordered the expulsion of all missionaries in 1587; ten years later, he ordered the crucifixion of 26 Christians– the first martyrs of Japan. His successor, Tokugawa Ieyasu, outlawed Christianity outright in 1614. Amidst persecution, Japanese Christians either fled or went underground, practicing their faith in secret.
Meanwhile, in Tohoku, or Northeastern Japan, a samurai named Date Masamune became daimyo and ruled Sendai, a huge domain that had been awarded to him by Tokugawa Ieyasu. Unlike Ieyasu, Masamune was sympathetic to Christians and allowed missionaries to come and preach in his territory.
Date Masamune even sought to establish diplomatic relations with the Pope, possibly motivated, in part, by a desire for greater access to European goods and technology. He sent an embassy to Rome in 1613, led by his retainer, Hasekura Tsunenaga, who would be baptized in Spain. However, one year into this seven-year diplomatic mission, Tokugawa Ieyasu issued his edict against Christianity and began to persecute Christians throughout Japan. European monarchs refused to trade with Japan because of this, and the diplomatic mission ended in failure.
In Tohoku, Date Masamune had to follow Ieyasu’s persecution of Christians throughout his domain, even though his own wife and daughter had reportedly become Christians and Masamune himself had been spotted wearing a cross on occasion.
The persecution of Christians in Iwate is documented at the Okago Christian Martyrs’ Memorial in Ichinoseki, a city 80 km southwest of Ofunato.
Date Masamune outwardly endorsed this persecution in order to appease his overlord, Ieyasu, but apparently encouraged Christians to go into hiding and tolerated hidden Christianity. He reportedly told Juan Goto, the openly Catholic lord of Fukuwara (literally “blessed field,” now known as the Oshu-Mizusawa area) in Iwate:
- Do not invite a Christian priest to your castle, even for a moment.
- Do not convert anyone to Christianity.
- If you make a pledge for the above two, you can keep the Christian faith; however, by God, you shall not tell it to anyone.
Goto replied, “Most humbly and with proper formalities, I am filled with gratitude for my Lord’s favor, but Jesus Christ’s favor is far more immense than my Lord’s. I will not be able to please your lordship this time.”
Though Masamune sent a sniper to assassinate Goto for this act of insubordination, it does not appear that he really wanted Goto killed: the assassin took an entire month to make a journey that would normally take several days, presumably to give Goto ample time to escape. Goto found refuge in Nanbu, a domain that included what is now Morioka, where the persecution of Christians was even less severe.
Date Masamune’s domain included a sleepy fishing village and harbor at the extreme northeastern edge of Sendai’s borders– the place now known as Ofunato.
The friends who had sparked my interest in all of this had mentioned that their ancestors were smugglers from Nagasaki and were probably Christian. Both of them have roots in Akasaki-cho, one of the seaside villages in Ofunato, and have surnames that are not native to this area. As the two began to debate matters of politics and economics versus true faith, one of them launched into an impassioned defense of hidden Christianity, stating that if Jesus were real, He probably wouldn’t be upset if some of His followers had to hide their faith in order to stay alive and pass the faith on.
The other friend countered that their ancestors were smuggling imported goods from Nagasaki, which remained the only port open to trading with the outside world during Japan’s 200 years of isolation, and speculated that their motives were purely economic.
In any case, it all comes together and starts to make sense.
If Date Masamune had been interested in establishing relations with European nations and desired their goods, it would not be implausible if he were to commission smugglers to bring imported goods from Nagasaki to his port in Ofunato, and knowing his tolerance towards Christians, it could be possible that Christians fleeing persecution in Nagasaki might have come and found safe haven in Ofunato and other parts of Iwate and Tohoku.
Could this be why Ofunato has been surprisingly warm towards Christians and matters of faith? Have generations of hidden Christians been praying for their descendants and this city over the past 500 years?
That could explain a lot.
Another friend of ours, who is in his late 60s, told Soo and me that when he was a little boy growing up in this area, his parents rented out a room to a man whose origins they did not know, worked as a freelance metal smith, and celebrated Christmas every year.
I wouldn’t be surprised if this boarder turned out to be Christian and had prayed for the little boy who would later grow up to be our friend– we hear stories about his life and see how God has had His hands upon him for his entire life. (He miraculously escaped two major tsunamis.)
I believe in the power of prayer. I believe that prayer is an act of war against an unseen enemy. I believe that prayers offered in faith can move mountains.
God has been at work in Ofunato for a long time, and we just had the privilege of joining him for one tiny sliver of that work.
*This is by no means a comprehensive history of Christianity in Japan. I’ve honed in only on parts that seem relevant to Ofunato and have culled information from a variety of sources, which I have not cited in proper fashion. I apologize for any errors that may have slipped through.
