Saints Paul Miki and his Companions are revered as the first martyrs of Japan, celebrated for their unwavering faith and courageous witness to their beliefs during severe persecution, inspiring generations through their sacrifice.
Saints Paul Miki and his Companions, Martyrs, comprise a group of twenty-six individualsâincluding Jesuit seminarian Paul Miki, other religious, and laypersons, both Japanese and Europeanâwho were crucified in Nagasaki, Japan, on February 5, 1597, during a period of intense persecution. They are profoundly known for their steadfast devotion and heroic endurance, choosing death rather than renouncing their faith, thereby becoming the foundational martyrs of the Japanese Church. Their profound sacrifice serves as an enduring testament to fidelity and courage, illustrating the universal call to bear witness to one's convictions, and they continue to inspire believers worldwide through their ultimate act of love and commitment to their spiritual life and community.
The story of Saints Paul Miki and his Companions, Martyrs, is a profound testament to unwavering faith and courage in the face of brutal persecution, marking a pivotal moment in the history of Christianity in Japan. The introduction of Christianity to Japan began in 1549 with the arrival of Saint Francis Xavier, a Jesuit missionary. Over the next few decades, the faith flourished, attracting converts from various social strata, including daimyo (feudal lords) and samurai, leading to a significant Christian presence, particularly in the western regions of Japan. This period of growth, however, was soon met with suspicion and hostility from the ruling powers, who perceived the foreign religion as a potential threat to their political authority and cultural traditions. The initial tolerance gradually eroded, paving the way for a tragic era of martyrdom that would etch the names of Paul Miki and his companions into the annals of Christian history. Their sacrifice illuminated the depth of conviction held by early Japanese Christians and their foreign missionary guides, setting a powerful example of fidelity to Christ.
The air was biting, a harsh wind sweeping across the winter landscape as the procession of twenty-six condemned souls trudged towards Nagasaki. They had endured a grueling, month-long march of over 600 miles from Kyoto, their bodies weakened by exposure and starvation, their ears ringing with the taunts of onlookers. Yet, as they approached the hill, known as Nishizaka, their spirits seemed to defy their physical suffering. Among them was Paul Miki, a Jesuit seminarian, his face serene despite the ordeal. He, along with his companionsâJesuit brothers, Franciscan friars, and lay catechists, some mere boysâwere about to become the first martyrs of Japan, crucified for their unwavering fidelity to Christ. They were not allowed to be executed with swords, as was customary for samurai, but were chosen to die on crosses, a deliberate mockery of their Lord's death. Yet, they embraced it as a privilege.
March 10, 1597
The twenty-six Christians, among whom were three Japanese Jesuits, six Franciscan friars, and seventeen laymen, were arrested in Kyoto and Osaka in December of 1596, under the orders of the Taiko Hideyoshi. Their crime was their steadfast adherence to the Christian faith, which the Taiko, swayed by false accusations and a growing suspicion of foreign influence, now deemed a threat to his authority. They were condemned to die by crucifixion, a method chosen specifically to mock their devotion to the crucified Christ, and to serve as a stark warning to all who might consider embracing this new religion. On January 3, 1597, their arduous journey began. They were led out of Kyoto, their hands bound, with iron rings about their necks, from which hung placards indicating their supposed crime. They were paraded through the towns and villages on the route to Nagasaki, over six hundred miles distant. This was not merely a transport of prisoners, but a deliberate spectacle of humiliation and terror. Through snow and ice, under the biting winds of winter, they walked, their bodies weakened by hunger and exposure, yet their spirits remained unbroken. The laymen, many of them catechists, continued to preach to the crowds that gathered, and the religious comforted and encouraged their companions. They sang psalms and hymns, and their faces, far from showing despair, often shone with a profound joy, perplexing many of their guards and observers. Among them, Father Paul Miki, a Japanese Jesuit scholastic, distinguished himself by his fervor and eloquence. Even in his bonds, he continued to teach, explaining the tenets of the faith and preparing those around him for their ultimate sacrifice. His words were a source of immense strength to his fellow prisoners, especially the young boys, Louis Ibaraki, Anthony, and Thomas, who, despite their tender years, faced their impending death with remarkable fortitude. These children, some as young as twelve, were a particular source of wonder to the onlookers, their youthful innocence contrasting sharply with the brutality of their condemnation. When they finally arrived in Nagasaki on February 5, 1597, the chosen site for their martyrdom was Nishizaka hill, a prominent elevation overlooking the city and the harbor, ensuring that their execution would be visible to a vast multitude. Twenty-six crosses, each prepared for a martyr, stood erect, awaiting their victims. The sight was horrific, yet the martyrs approached their crosses not with fear, but with an eagerness akin to that of those going to a wedding feast. They embraced their crosses, seeing in them the instrument of their salvation and their path to eternal glory. As they were affixed to their crosses, Father Miki, with a voice that carried clearly across the assembled crowd, delivered his final sermon. He affirmed his Japanese nationality and his identity as a Jesuit, declaring that his only offense was preaching the Gospel. He expressed his gratitude to God for the grace to suffer for Christ and extended forgiveness to his persecutors, praying that his blood might serve for their good. His words were a powerful testament to the truth of the faith for which he was about to die. Immediately after their attachment to the crosses, the executioners, with a coordinated action, thrust their lances into the chests of the martyrs. Each blow was swift, bringing an end to their earthly suffering. Yet, even in death, their witness continued. The constancy, the serenity, and the joy with which they met their end profoundly affected many of the onlookers. Some wept openly, others knelt in prayer, and many, particularly the hidden Christians, rushed forward to collect relics, dipping cloths in the martyrs' blood, believing it to be a sacred testament to their heroic faith. The bodies remained on the crosses for a time, a grim spectacle for some, but for the faithful, a powerful symbol of ultimate victory. The news of this glorious martyrdom spread rapidly, reaching Europe and inspiring Christians across the globe, solidifying the resolve of the nascent Church in Japan to persevere through centuries of persecution.
Pilgrimages to the 26 Martyrs Monument and Museum in Nagasaki, which stands on the site of their crucifixion, serving as a powerful memorial and place of prayer.
The monument marks the exact location of their martyrdom, making it a focal point for remembrance and devotion, especially on their feast day and throughout the year. Visitors come to honor their sacrifice and reflect on their faith journey, particularly in the city where they died for their beliefs.