MICHAEL CIBENKO
BRANCHVILLE Shirō Nakagawa had had enough.
A young samurai and Catholic in 17th century Japan, he watched as the lord of his region in the south, called a daimyō, cracked down on his growing Christian community — closing churches, expelling missionaries, levying crushing taxes, banning religious practices and images, even torturing and killing people. The tipping point came when a regional tax collector drowned a pregnant woman. Filled with righteous anger, Shirō put on his samurai uniform and clutched his sword, ready to lead what is now known as the Shimabara Rebellion — a failed deadly uprising by these Christians from December 1637 to April 1638.
The story is little known outside southern Japan and historical facts about Shirō are scarce. That gave Michael Cibenko of Our Lady Queen of Peace (OLQP) Parish here an opportunity to write “Masaru,” a new novel of historical fiction. It tries to “fill in” the missing details of the story to find a truth that historical fact can not reveal fully: the heroism of this samurai-Christian warrior and the bravery and faith of the band of peasants he led in rebellion. Published last month by Arx Publishing, a Catholic publisher in Merchantville, the book can engage readers, especially young people, with rich details about Catholic theology and Japanese history and with deftly drawn characters and supercharged adventure and battle scenes.
“I wrote ‘Masaru’ (named for Shirō’s childhood nickname) because people in the region mainly only know a mythologized version of Shirō, like Robin Hood, and Westerners generally don’t know much about the history of the Catholic Church in Asia,” said Cibenko, who taught German, Japanese, and theology at Pope John XXIII Regional High School in Sparta (2005–19). “Many of my former students were intrigued by Japanese culture, so I hope young people will be able to connect with the story. Christians can learn more about their faith and read about one of its lesser-known heroes. For non-believers, I try to use apologetics: explaining faith through reason. Hopefully some will find that there is something there worth exploring further.”
Shirō, whose real last name was Amakusa, after the region he came from, grew up within a growing Christian community, which started in the late 16th century. That is when Jesuits from Spain and Portugal brought the Gospel to Japan. Somewhat surprisingly, much of Japanese society embraced the faith within half a century, until the powerful Tokugawa shoguns united the country in the early 17th century. They looked upon foreign religion with hostility, while appreciating European weapons and trade goods, writes Cibenko.
The book continues with Shirō living with his family of recent converts near Hitoyoshi castle on the island of Kyushu. Cibenko moved the action of the actual events slightly to the east to Yatsushiro and Hitoyoshi, an area he was familiar with, having taught English in Kumamoto for four years in the late 1990s.
The plot in “Masaru” gives Cibenko moments to catechize, as when Shirō’s grandmother, skeptical, quizzes his father about why Jesus would desire to become man.
“In Shintō there is the belief that the spiritual manifests itself in the natural world. Kirisutokyō [the Japanese word for Christianity] professes something even greater — that the one true God, the creator of time and space and all that inhabit them, humbled himself to become one of his own creation,” the father answers, citing beliefs that the grandmother understands. She then asks, “To what end? To be killed by his own creatures?” The father answers that Jesus “allowed himself to be sacrificed for the atonement of sins, yes. Beyond that, he conquered death by rising again from the grave.”
After the drowning of the pregnant woman, Shirō leads a band of angry, poor villagers to the daimyō’s castle, captures it, and shelters tens of thousands of Christian refugees, Cibenko writes.
But, here is a spoiler alert: history tells us that the rebellion ultimately failed. That’s because the much larger and mightier forces of the Shogun, which enabled the capture of the castle by leaving it temporarily unguarded, returned. They crushed the uprising and slaughtered all the inhabitants. While the real Shirō was beheaded on fortress grounds, readers will have to discover the fate of the novel’s hero, he said.
In the late 1990s, Cibenko experienced the faith of the tight-knit Catholic community in rural southern Japan, while teaching English there — “which was one of several factors that rekindled the flame of my own somewhat lukewarm faith at that time.” Cibenko infused the book with his lived experience of the region.
On a recent trip to Japan, Cibenko visited the site of the rebellion, actually called Hara Castle on the Shimabara Peninsula of Nagasaki, north of Amakusa, and the Amakusa Christian Museum, he said.
“Research quickly led me to discover that relatively little is known about the real Shirō Amakusa. An online search is likely to lead one to anime, manga, and video game characters of the same name. Over time, several supernatural events have been attributed to Shirō, including miraculous healings, even walking on water. Though none of these have been approved by the Church, it is fair to say that the person of Shirō Amakusa has served as an inspiration to Christians in Japan and elsewhere,” Cibenko writes.
Jeffrey Bond, a former Pope John history, English and Classics teacher, who holds a doctorate in political philosophy from the University of Chicago, said that “Masaru,” “transports the reader to medieval Japan with realism that delights the senses,” like James Clavell’s novel of historical fiction, “Shogun.”
“Timeless truths of the faith are presented with fidelity, yet in a manner that is both refreshing and provocative. This is a must-read for anyone who appreciates Japanese culture, lovers of history and philosophy, or those who simply enjoy an exceptionally well-told story,” Bond said.
[“Masaru” is available for purchase on Arx Publishing’s website, arxpub.com, or through Barnes & Noble or Amazon.]