20-Jan-2023
Two codas to my post on Kyushu's Kirishitan (Roman Catholic missionaries and converts in 16th/17th-century Japan).
Firstly, the 26 Christians who were crucified in Nagasaki in 1597:
They were canonized in 1862. To mark the 100th anniversary of their official sainthood, Japanese architect Imai Kenji designed the 26 Martyrs' Memorial Church, which is right by the site where they died, and is dedicated to St Philip, one of the 26. As soon as you see it, you think "Gaudi", and it's true -- Imai introduced Japan to Gaudi. To make his mosaic, he used fragments of Arita porcelain from Japan, and fragments of ceramics from countries around the world, including both Spain and Mexico (where some of the martyrs were born).
Also in 1962, a monument to the 26 martyrs was installed in Nishizaka Park:
Secondly, Urakami Cathedral... In 1880, according to the signboards, the Catholics of Urakami, now back after having been banished from the city, built a temporary church. The construction of the imposing red brick cathedral began 15 years later. Completed in 1914, with twin bell towers added in 1925, it was said to be the largest cathedral in Asia. What a reversal of fortune for the Christian community, after all those years of persecution...
Then, on 9 August 1945, an atomic bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. According to some calculations, of the 15,000 Christians living in this area, more than 10,000 died. Urakami Cathedral, just 500 metres from the hypocentre, was reduced to rubble.
There is a truly gruesome irony here. Long, terrible years of oppression gave way to a brief moment of glory -- and then to wholesale destruction at the hands of those who would also call themselves Christian...
But the congregation was determined to build back. On 1 December 1946, a temporary church was completed. It was the first public building in the area to be restored. In 1958, work began on reconstructing the cathedral, which was finished in 1959.
You can't take photographs in the cathedral, but I remember the Jesus figure at the end, bathed in a hazy grey-pink light, and the beautiful stained-glass windows, and a replica of the head of the Virgin Mary, which survived the blast (the original is in a separate chapel).
So much here speaks of survival.