January 4th

January 4th marks the annual fumie ceremony in Nagasaki, a state-mandated ritual of apostasy that forces every household to trample on Christian images, and the day on which Sebastian Rodrigues, now known as the Apostate Paul, is summoned to a final meeting with Inoue, the Lord of Chikugo, who informs him he will be sent to Edo, given a Japanese name, and compelled to take a wife. This date crystallizes the Tokugawa Shogunate's systematic eradication of Christianity through a combination of public spectacle, bureaucratic surveillance, and the psychological breaking of its last foreign priest. It is the moment when the state's victory over the mission is made complete and Rodrigues' transformation into a Japanese subject is sealed.

The Fumie Ceremony as State Ritual

On January 4th, the fumie exercise is performed by the people of Nagasaki. From Edo, Imazakara, Funatsu, and Fukuro, the otona and leading citizens go to receive the fumie plaque and to check each house's observance of the practice of trampling on the fumie. Every household has joined in cleaning the road, and quietly they are now all awaiting the arrival of the otona and the leading citizens. At last, from afar the announcement rings out in a voice that is like a song: 'They have arrived.....'; and in each house, in a room adjoining the entrance, everyone in the family is lined up, attentively awaiting the ceremony that is to come. The fumie is between seven and eight inches in length and between four and six inches in breadth; and on it is fixed an image of the Virgin and Child. The first to trample is the master of the house, then his wife and the children. The mother, clasping her baby in her arms, must trample too. If there are any sick in the house, they also, in the presence of the officials, are made to touch the fumie with their feet from their position in bed. This annual ritual, enforced by the threat of severe punishment, transforms a private act of conscience into a public, communal performance of renunciation, designed to make any secret adherence to Christianity impossible to sustain.

Rodrigues' Summons and Final Meeting with Inoue

On this same January 4th, Rodrigues suddenly receives a summons from the magistrate's office. The interpreter has arrived with a palanquin. There is no wind, but the sky is dull and cloudy; it is a rather cold day and the sloping road is utterly changed from the previous day—for now it has become deadly still and quiet. At the magistrate's office of Honhakata, an official dressed in ceremonial clothes is waiting. 'The magistrate awaits you,' he says. The Lord of Chikugo squats erect in a room in which is placed a single brazier. Hearing the sound of footsteps, he turns full upon the priest that face with its big ears. Around his cheeks and lips there plays a smile; but there is no laughter in his eyes. 'Greetings!' he says quietly. This is Rodrigues' first meeting with the magistrate since his apostasy; but now he feels no sense of disgrace in the presence of this man. It is not against the Lord of Chikugo and the Japanese that he has fought. Gradually he has come to realise that it was against his own faith that he has fought. But he can scarcely expect the Lord of Chikugo to understand a thing like that.

The Sentence: Exile, a New Name, and a Wife

Inoue tells Rodrigues that in a month's time it would be good for him to go to Edo and live there. There is a house prepared for him there, in Kobinatacho, the place where Inoue used to live. The magistrate deliberately uses the word 'father', which cuts bitterly into the priest's flesh. Moreover, since he is going to spend his life in Japan, it would be good for him to take a Japanese name. Fortunately, a man named Okada San'emon has died. When he goes to Edo, he can take that name just as it is. The magistrate speaks the words in a single breath, rubbing his hands as he holds them over the brazier. 'This man has a wife,' he goes on. 'It would be inconvenient for you, father, to be always alone, so you can take her as your wife.' Rodrigues has been listening to these words with downcast eyes. Behind his eyelids arises the picture of a slope down which he keeps slipping endlessly. To resist, to refuse—this is no longer possible. Whatever about adopting the name of a Japanese, he has had no intention of taking his wife. When Inoue asks, 'Well?', Rodrigues shrugs his shoulders and nods, and a feeling of exhausted resignation takes possession of his whole being. 'You underwent every kind of insult; if you alone now understand my feelings, that is enough. Even if the Christians and the clergy look upon me as a blot on the history of the mission, that no longer matters to me.'

Inoue's Final Judgment: The Swamp of Japan

Inoue tells Rodrigues that this country of Japan is not suited to the teaching of Christianity. Christianity simply cannot put down roots here. Rodrigues remembers how Ferreira had said exactly the same thing at Saishoji. 'Father, you were not defeated by me,' the Lord of Chikugo says, looking straight into the ashes of the brazier as he speaks. 'You were defeated by this swamp of Japan.' Rodrigues unconsciously raises his voice as he speaks: 'No, no..... My struggle was with Christianity in my own heart.' A cynical smile passes over Inoue's face. He says he has been told that Rodrigues said to Ferreira that the Christ of the fumie told him to trample—and that that was why he did so. But isn't this just his self-deception? just a cloak of his weakness? Inoue cannot believe that these are truly Christian words. 'It doesn't matter what you think,' says Rodrigues, lowering his eyes and putting both hands on his knees. Inoue then reveals that in Goto and Ikitsuki, large numbers of Christian farmers still remain, but the authorities have no desire to apprehend them. 'Because the roots have been cut. If from the four corners of the world men like this father were to come once more, we would have to apprehend the Christians again,' says the magistrate with a laugh. 'But we no longer have any fear of that. If the root is cut, the sapling withers and the leaves die. The proof of this is that the God whom the peasants of Goto and Ikitsuki secretly serve has gradually changed so as to be no longer like the Christian God at all.' Raising his head, Rodrigues looks into the magistrate's face where he sees a forced smile on the cheeks and around the lips. But the eyes are not laughing. 'The Christianity you brought to Japan has changed its form and has become a strange thing,' says the Lord of Chikugo as he heaves a sigh from the depths of his bosom. 'Japan is that kind of country; it can't be helped. Yes, father.....' The magistrate's sigh is genuine, and his voice is filled with painful resignation. With a gesture of farewell he withdraws together with the interpreter.

Aftermath: The Apostate Paul

Carried along in the palanquin beneath the leaden sky, Rodrigues gazes out vaguely at the expanse of sea, gray like the sky above. Soon he will be sent to Edo. The Lord of Chikugo has promised him a house, but this means that he will be put in the Christian prison he has heard so much about; and it is in this prison that he will spend his life. Never again will he cross the leaden sea to return to his native land. He has received the Japanese name Okada San'emon; he has become a Japanese. Okada San'emon! He laughs in a low voice as he utters the name. Fate has given him everything he could have wished for, has given it to him in this cynical way. He, a celibate priest, will take a wife. 'I bear no grudge against you! I am only laughing at man's fate. My faith in you is different from what it was; but I love you still.' Till evening he stands leaning against the window, watching the children. Holding the string attached to the kite, they run up the slope, but there is no wind and the kite falls idly to the ground. As evening comes, there is a break in the clouds and the sun breaks weakly through. The children, now tired of their play with the kite, knock on the doors of the houses with bamboo sticks, singing. He tries to imitate the children's song in a low voice; but he cannot sing—and this thought makes him sad. At the house beyond an old woman scolds the children; it is the old woman that brings him food twice each day. It is evening. The breeze is blowing. As he strains his ears, he recalls the sound of the wind blowing through the grove in the days when he had been confined to prison. Then, as always happens at night, the face of Christ rises up in his heart. It is the face of the man upon whom he has trampled.