Remembering the spirit of martyrs strengthens the faith of Japan’s Christian minority.
By Fr. Harry O’Carroll

In mostly mountainous Japan, there is a hill called Usunegiri, a beautiful spot in the Kumamoto Prefecture made desolate because the locals have given it a wide berth for many years. About 150 years ago, upwards of 60 men, women and children were massacred on this hill because they were Christians.

Years before, they had fled to quiet Usunegiri to avoid persecution. Since the massacre the locals, generally superstitious and nervous about the “spirit world,” probably imagined the whole place was haunted with restless ghosts, seeking revenge.

There are no official records of the slaughter because no one was proud that these innocent people were killed. The story lives on, however, in the memories of the local people. A book about these tragic events was published a few years ago by an author named Dr. Kawazu.

Here is how the events in this tragedy unfolded:
Japan had isolated itself from the outside world for about 250 years when it received a great shock. U.S. Navy Commodore Matthew Perry’s fleet of black ships had turned up at the entrance of Tokyo Bay in 1853, demanding that Japan open its doors to trade. Panic spread among government officials, who decided they needed an army to defend their country.

Word was sent to garrisons all over Japan to send troops to Tokyo. A contingent of samurai, bursting with confidence and looking for a fight, set off from Kumamoto to confront the despised foreigners.

When they reached Osaka, the halfway point on their journey, the samurai were informed that it was no longer necessary to fight and that they should return to their base in Kumamoto.

It was a sullen and cantankerous bunch that began the long trek westwards. By the time they dragged themselves and their heavy cannons to Kumamoto’s borders, their mood was so volatile that the commander of the group, seeking to satisfy their thirst for blood, turned them loose on a group of Christians he had heard were hiding in the area.

That place was Usunegiri.

A play staged by the Kumamoto City Hospital dramatized the story of the Christian martyrs killed on Usunegiri hill.

I promised to come back and offer Mass there whenever I had an opportunity. I was able to keep that promise in 2002, at about the same time that the Red Cross Hospital in Kumamoto City was preparing to celebrate its 25th anniversary.

To mark the occasion the hospital staged a drama for the people of Kumamoto City. Hospital representatives were anxious to plan something unusual and worthwhile, coming up with the idea of dramatizing Dr. Kawazu’s account of the Usunegiri martyrs.

Many professional actors agreed to take the lead roles, and the other roles were played by a university drama group and several of the hospital staff, including Dr. Koyama, the hospital’s chief medical officer and friend of Dr. Koyama.

The production encountered one problem. No one would have anything to do with the production until some form of prayer had been offered on the hill to console the spirits of the dead.

One Catholic doctor at the hospital had heard of my desire to offer Mass at Usunegiri, so I was approached with the great privilege of offering the blessing.

Fr. Harry O’Carroll offered Mass on Usunegiri hill in Japan for the Christian martyrs killed there and those who killed them.

We began blessing the graves and the hill. When I came to my sermon, I was anxious to set the local people’s minds at ease about the ghosts of the martyrs thirsting for revenge. I stressed that this was a holy place, a place of peace. I mentioned that a great gift given to martyrs is the ability to forgive those who have persecuted them.

The Gospel reading was taken from the passion account of Jesus, “Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing,” (Luke 23:34) and the account of the “good thief,” (Luke 23:42).

Unless God worked a great miracle, I would not have the courage to die for the faith.

Martyrdom is a gift of God. I have read the accounts of many martyrs, and it seems to me that God gives martyrs another wonderful grace, the gift of forgiving enemies.

I believe that this was and still is the feeling of those who died at Usunegiri. There are no ghosts or curses here. It is a holy place, purified by martyrs’ blood. For all who live, work and visit Usunegiri, it evokes blessing and peace.

This ought to be a place of pilgrimage, a place to be proud of. The martyrs of Usunegiri died because they believed in Jesus Christ.

We might ask ourselves what message the martyrs would like us to take away from Usunegiri.

I believe they are inviting us to take to heart these words of Jesus: “Love your enemies and pray for your persecutors,” (Matthew 5:44). And, “For if you forgive others the wrongs they have done, your heavenly Father will also forgive you,” (Matthew 6:14).

There is peace in our world when someone decides to absorb the suffering and instead of retaliating, forgives. This begins with you and me. A patriot once said from his prison cell before he died, “It is not those who inflict the most, but those who endure the most who will triumph,” (Terence McSweeney, martyred Lord Mayor of Cork in Ireland).

Walking Tall
After Mass the local people provided hot green tea and snacks. As we eased our way down the hill to the theater for the play, there was a grand, warm glow about us. Everyone seemed pleased by what had transpired. Upon arriving for the play, the theatre that could hold about 1,200 people was packed.

When the curtain rose, a big screen was lowered and for about 20 minutes a videotape of the ceremony from Usunegiri was shown. The blessings, the Mass, the sermon and the message of peace were quite powerful and set the stage for the drama that followed.

Christians are a small and insignificant group in the vast numbers that make up the beautiful country of Japan.

After the performance many Christians were walking taller. Hopefully, they will continue to walk tall now that the “ghosts” have been laid to rest and Usunegiri—shunned for so long—is now back on the map.