The First to Accept Orthodoxy in Japan were the Samurai

An Interview with Bishop Seraphim (Tsujinaga) of Sendai

January 1, 2008

 

— Vladyka, in Russia, unfortunately, very little is known about the Orthodox Church in Japan, its characteristics, and its history. Please tell us, how did it all begin?

— Christianity came to Japan in the 16th century. These were Catholic missions. They spread quite widely throughout the country. However, after that, Japan remained closed to foreigners for three hundred years, with practically no external influence. Only in the 1860s did diplomatic visits resume, and the so-called "opening of the country" took place. The penetration of Western culture resumed, and Christian preachers from America, the Netherlands, and Russia appeared in the country once again. It was at that time that a young priest, the future Saint Nicholas of Japan, arrived in Japan. With his arrival begins the history of Japanese Orthodoxy.

At that time, the Japanese saw no difference between Christian denominations: Protestantism, Catholicism, and Orthodoxy were all the same to them. Their spheres of influence were divided according to only one criterion—geographical: each denomination developed in the territory where its missionaries had originally settled. Thus, Orthodoxy spread in the northern lands, while most Protestant clergymen established themselves in Eastern Japan. As they say, that’s just how history unfolded…

Everyone preached in different ways, of course. But the main problem for all was to explain to ordinary Japanese people who God is. This remains very difficult to this day because the very concept of the One God never existed in traditional Japanese culture. Therefore, the most important task of the Christian mission in Japan was to translate the Bible into Japanese. And when Saint Nicholas arrived in Japan, he too faced the question of translation.

He turned to the Chinese version. Orthodoxy had arrived in China somewhat earlier, and the Holy Scripture had long been translated there. Since Japanese and Chinese share common features, this translation proved to be a useful aid.

But even the existence of a translation does not solve the problem: how to explain to the Japanese in oral preaching about the One God, about the Trinity. I think that even in Russia, it is not so easy to explain this to non-churchgoers, and yet Russia is a country with a thousand-year Christian history, where the entire culture and historical course have been shaped under the influence of Orthodoxy. What can be said, then, about Japan…

Another question is how the Japanese themselves perceive Orthodoxy. Do they see it as faith, something that defines their lives? Or as part of a culture that came from the West? Unfortunately, the latter is far more common. Moreover, Orthodoxy came to us from Russia and is often associated specifically with it. And what are the current relations between Russia and Japan? There you have the answer as to why Orthodoxy is less popular here than, say, Catholicism.

— And yet, why is Orthodoxy more often perceived in Japan as a cultural phenomenon rather than as faith?

— There are several reasons. First, the widespread adoption of Christianity in Japan began in the 19th century, during the Meiji era, when Western culture poured into the country. Naturally, Christianity was also perceived as an element of this culture— a distinct literature, a unique form of painting... This perception was further reinforced by Protestant preachers, who emphasized the moral and ethical aspects of Christianity. Second, the Japanese language itself lacks the concept of "faith." How, for example, is "Orthodoxy" translated into Japanese? — "Sei-Kyō," meaning "correct teaching." This is understandable, since the traditional religions of Japan, Shintoism and Buddhism, are primarily teachings—prescriptions on how to live, how to act in various situations. In these religious traditions, there are no concepts such as the salvation of the soul for eternal life, personal communion with God, or God as a Person. Christians, on the other hand, believe in the Resurrection of Christ, accepting this event as a fact and as the possibility of their own personal salvation. As you can see, the difference is enormous.

And yet, in Japan, there are many people who accept Christ with all their hearts, and for them, Orthodoxy is truly faith—something that changes their lives. During the Meiji era, there were those who heard the preaching of Saint Nicholas and followed him.

— Were these people in deep inner search?

— Rather, they were in a deep inner crisis. Strangely enough, they were samurai. What was northern Japan like, places such as Hakodate, when Saint Nicholas arrived there? It was a place where the people of old Japan lived—the Japan that had lost in the Meiji Revolution, which overthrew the Tokugawa shogunate and formally transferred power to the emperor. The people of Tokugawa were cast to the margins of life, much like the nobility in Russia after 1917. These were educated individuals with a samurai mindset—that is, ready to sacrifice themselves and live for an ideal. But they had lost their status in society, their wealth... And most importantly, they had lost the very purpose for which they lived: the principles and ideals they had served belonged to a Japan that no longer existed. They did not know what to do next. In such a state, they retreated northward, seeking refuge from the onslaught of a new era.

They deeply desired to change something in their country. But they needed a teaching, an idea that would support them in this difficult time. And it was then that they encountered Saint Nicholas… Was it Divine Providence or mere chance? Call it what you will. But it was these very people who were the first to truly hear his preaching about Christ. And his words fell on good soil. One of his disciples, Paul Sawabe, after becoming a priest, would say: to change something in one’s country, one must first change oneself. And what can change a person’s heart if not Orthodoxy?

— So, there were warriors of Christ among the samurai?

— Yes, among the first Japanese Orthodox believers, there were many samurai. They all knew each other and were friends, as the code of loyalty and friendship was paramount for a samurai. News of the new faith spread quickly among them, and trusting one another, they also approached it with trust. Moreover, I believe another factor played a role—Orthodoxy is a conciliar faith: prayer in the church is a communal act of the entire Church, where all pray together as one, feeling themselves to be a single family. This is close to the samurai spirit. All of this contributed to the spread of Orthodoxy.

Then the samurai gradually began to return to their lands. Many were originally from Sendai, so Orthodoxy reached this city fairly soon. It quickly spread among the relatives, friends, and acquaintances of these newly converted believers. However, the main problem—how to explain to ordinary Japanese people who the Triune God is and that Christ is the God-Man who, through His suffering, conquered death—remained unresolved.

— Is there anything in Orthodoxy that is close to and understandable for the Japanese mindset?

— Of course, there is. Many fundamental principles—"love your neighbor," "if someone strikes you on the left cheek, turn the right as well"—have long been familiar and understandable to the Japanese. In the Western world, the center of the universe is the individual, the "self," and only then come relationships with others. In the Japanese mindset, however, others come first. In this sense, certain elements of an Orthodox worldview are already present within them. Or take the commemoration of the departed. In Japan, honoring the memory of ancestors is deeply rooted, and the tradition of memorial services and commemorative meals was adopted very quickly. But there is also a downside to this. For Christians, the main purpose of worship is the Eucharist—communion with God. In Japan, however, the memorial service often stands on equal footing with it, as a tribute to ancestors. This is a challenge for all Christian denominations. Christianity in Japan is often accepted not as a whole but only to the extent that it is understandable and convenient, aligning with preexisting beliefs. But, in my view, this is not so much the problem of the believers themselves as it is of the clergy. There are very few of us; we are simply not enough to explain to everyone who seeks to know what Christianity is and what its essence is.

— But there are spiritual schools in Japan, catechetical courses, and even departments of theology in universities. Is that really not enough?

— It is one thing to understand Christianity as a teaching, as an academic subject, to grasp its theory and principles, and to decide for oneself: "This suits me, I accept it." But it is something entirely different to accept it on an emotional level—as a faith that permeates one’s whole life, that lives in the heart and transforms it. This is a qualitatively different step.

Before my transfer to Sendai, I served at the Resurrection Church in Tokyo and often observed the following: people attend Sunday school for one, two, three, even four years—already understanding and accepting the teaching—and yet, they still do not get baptized. This is very characteristic of the Japanese. Among our scholars engaged in biblical studies, there are practically no Christians. They perceive the Bible as literature.

— In your opinion, how can modern Japanese people be explained what sin is, the salvation of the soul, eternal life—all that is fundamental in Orthodoxy but is not inherent in the Japanese mindset?

— That is a difficult question. The problem, as I have already mentioned, is that Christianity is still perceived in Japan as a religion of the Western world—foreign, imported. And this perception has not yet changed—the number of Christians of all denominations in Japan does not exceed one percent of the population.

Moreover, in the modern world, people have completely lost the habit of learning. Knowledge is stored in a computer, and if information is needed, one simply presses the appropriate button. We seek ready-made answers to all questions, and many find them—especially since various occult sects offer them in abundance. And once satisfied with these answers, there is no longer a need for self-improvement or striving to become better. Over the past twenty to thirty years, this trend has become quite clear in Japan: people do not want to think, they do not want to grow. Most Japanese consider themselves Buddhists. But what does their Buddhism consist of? Once a year, they come to the temple, pray for a few minutes, visit the grave of a relative—and that’s all. Few study Buddhism as a religion or shape their lives according to its teachings. The same happens among Christians, including Orthodox believers. Changing one’s heart often becomes an overwhelming task, and people prefer to abandon faith altogether, even if they intellectually understand its truth and necessity. After all, faith is, above all, the work of the soul... To cultivate faith within oneself, a person must think, must seek to gain experience in communion with God. This experience is real, it is accessible to everyone. We possess an unimaginable luxury—the ability to feel God in daily life. The Lord is all around us! But we are losing the ability to perceive this presence. We simply live without paying attention to it. And often, we are not even ready to discuss sin, eternal life... Yet thinking and speaking about these things is essential. And first and foremost, it is essential for us, the pastors. We must be more attentive to our parishioners and to those who come to church only occasionally—especially to those who enter the church for the first time. I cannot shake the thought: perhaps the real issue is that we, the pastors, are not doing enough.

In a sense, the situation in Japan today resembles early Christian history. It was difficult to be a Christian in the Roman Empire, difficult to preach in Greece… Likewise, we bring our message to pagans for whom our faith is foreign and the need for the salvation of the soul is not obvious. Of course, we are not thrown into cages with tigers or subjected to torture—in this sense, our task is much easier. But it is far more difficult to find ways to bear witness to Christ in everyday life, when no one is persecuting us or forbidding us to pray. Because in such a situation, only one form of witness remains—sincere love for others, not in a moment of emotional fervor, but in daily life. And, you must agree, that is not so easy.

— Are there people among your flock, among the parishioners of your church, who have deeply embraced Orthodoxy?

— There are different examples. Many come, take an interest in church life and services, listen attentively to sermons, attend church for six months, a year, and finally decide to receive Baptism… But after that, they immediately stop coming to church. And this happens despite their interest being entirely sincere and their genuine desire to become true Christians. Yet at some point, receiving Baptism became their sole goal. Instead of being the beginning of their church life, it became the end of their journey—a short-distance race, so to speak. Among those who try to understand Christianity as a teaching, as an academic discipline, such cases are especially common.

But there are also other examples—and quite a few—where people truly change. It’s just that not much time has passed yet. Consider this: in Russia, Orthodoxy has a thousand-year history, while in Japan, it arrived only 140 years ago. From a historical perspective, this is a very short period—Orthodoxy has simply not yet had the time to take root in our culture and consciousness. In Japan, Shinto and Buddhist festivals (matsuri) are not just religious events but a part of public life itself. And historically, the public sphere takes precedence for the Japanese. Imagine how difficult it is to stand out from the crowd in such an environment. Being a "white crow" means signing one’s own sentence. A child in school cannot simply refuse to participate in matsuri—otherwise, they will become the target of ridicule and bullying from their peers.

At the same time, while in Russia, Europe, and the New World, the final day of the week—Sunday—is associated in people's minds with the fact of Christ's Resurrection, in Japan, it is simply the "day of the sun." Therefore, for a Japanese person, it is not at all obvious why one should refrain from daily work on this day and dedicate it to spiritual matters.

I believe that Orthodoxy, and Christianity in general, now faces a very important task—to become an integral part of Japanese society, to fill its life with a new, yet unknown meaning. And this is a tremendous responsibility for every Christian...

 

Original Russian source: https://foma.ru/pervyimi-pravoslavie-prinyali-samurai.html