Showing posts with label Japan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Japan. Show all posts

Monday, May 06, 2019

日本仏教の社会倫理

バテレンの世紀

Friday, August 24, 2018

内村鑑三 武士道的キリスト教

内村鑑三 武士道的キリスト教

実例として、幕末の武士の一人であり、内村鑑三が代表的日本人の一人に選
んだ西郷隆盛を挙げている。西郷は、陽明学を深く学び、「敬天愛人」を生き
る理念として掲げていた。天の法則に従い、人を愛する心をもつことを重視す
る西郷の姿は、「キリスト者」と言える、とまで語っている。


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Saturday, July 07, 2018

Sense of sin in Japan


“The conception of sin, as distinct from uncleanness, is wanting, or rudimentary,   and throughout their history the Japanese seem to have retained in some           measure this incapacity to discern, or this reluctance to grapple with a problem of Evil. […]Much that is baffling in the study of their history, from ancient to   modern times, becomes clearer when one remembers that they have never been  tortured by the sense of sin” 

(G.B. Sansom, Japan. A Short Cultural History, New York,  1931, p. 54)

Monday, December 11, 2017

Buddismo

"Cio' che esiste al di la' di ogni esistente finito concettualmente afferrabile, cioe' il nirvana, puo' venir definito in quanto e' l'autentico non piu' come essere, ma come 'nulla' ad esso contrapposto, dove per' questo nulla, 'trovato' dal cercatore come l'autentico, deve a sua volta smascherare l'inautentico, cioe' il mondo finito e perituro, con tutta la moltitudine dei suoi soggetti, lo deve denunciare come il 'nullitario' (Nichtige), illusorio, come maya (幻). Mentre in altre forme del buddismo (hinayana) l'Uno (neoplatonico), in oriente il nirvana, era ancora il contenuto appetibile di un'esperienza di unita', mediante cui si pensava di sfuggire al circolo delle rinascite, al samsara, il buddismo zen radicalizza la nullificazione in 'nulla assoluto' (H. Waldenfels, Absolute Nichts, Herder 1976), in cui viene 'superata l'opposizione tra aldila' e aldiqua' (ivi. p. 129). Samsara e nirvana, nonostante la loro penultima opposizione, sono diventati cosi' identici nell'ultima decisione, il che francamente presuppone una certa esperibilita' di questa 'identita' dell'identita' e della non identita' (per parlare con Hegel), e presso Nishitani viene anche poi confermato nel principio fondamentale: 'L'unica reale realta' e' la pura esperienza' (Citato in H. Waldenfels [a cura], Begegnung mit dem Zen-Buddhismus, Dusseldorf 1980, p. 71). (...) Il fondamento della nostra esistenza e' il nulla, cioe' sunyata... Questo e' profondo abbastanza per abbracciare Dio stesso, l'"oggetto" dell'unione mistica come pure l'oggetto della fede. Giacche' sunyata non e' il nulla da cui Dio ha creato ogni cosa, ma e' il nulla da cui Dio stesso e' emerso" (Masao Abe, cit. in Waldenfels, Absolute Nichts, p. 114).
   Questa reciproca doppia nientificazione nello zen e' presumibilmente l'allontanamento piu' lontano possibile da quanto intende la ricerca dell'uomo biblico. Nell'Oriente la ricerca del Dio vivente diventa una tecnica per cercare qualcosa che e' al di la' di ogni ricerca. Nella 'grande illuminazione' la verita' e', come esperienza, realta' presente; il nulla e' stato trovato, non e' necessario cercare piu' oltre.
 (...)
[L]'uomo che, scontento di un cercare che non arriva mai, o si ripara dentro un sistema (anche lo zen lo e') o in un agnosticismo rassegnato, che si distende in negazioni e negazioni, mentre si e' gia rinunciato alla ricerca. Questa teologia negativa primaria rappresenta il bastione piu' forte contro il cristianesimo."

(H. U. von Balthasar, Verita' di Dio. TeoLOGICA vol. 2, Milano 1990, p. 77-81)

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Projet » Christianisme et idéologie au Japon, XVIe-XIXe siècle

Projet » Christianisme et idéologie au Japon, XVIe-XIXe siècle

Christianisme et idéologie au Japon, XVIe-XIXe siècle
  Pierre Dunoyer |  Cerf, 2012, 236 p., 25 €  Par Sylvain Urfer | 26 mars 2013 
 
Ce livre complète l’Histoire du catholicisme au Japon (1543-1945), ouvrage publié au Cerf en 2011. Il montre que, dès les premiers Tokugawa au début du XVIIe siècle, l’antichristianisme au Japon n’a pas d’abord un objectif religieux. Faisant croire à un ennemi insaisissable et dangereux, il visait surtout à asseoir un pouvoir à l’aide d’une idéologie politique forgée de toutes pièces. Le christianisme a donc été interdit, non parce qu’il était étranger, mais parce que, s’opposant aux systèmes des lois et des châtiments, il menaçait des relations sociales garantes de stabilité. Au XXe siècle, l’idéologie impériale de l’ère Meiji a reproduit les méthodes et les techniques de l’impérialisme occidental ; mais pour signifier son opposition au même Occident, il a également utilisé l’antichristianisme, devenu fondement de l’identité nationale. Chacun sait où cela a mené en 1945. La présentation des principaux textes de ce discours antichrétien, dont le but était le contrôle des masses populaires, fait la richesse du livre de Pierre Dunoyer. Il s’inspire des historiens japonais qui, aujourd’hui, remettent en cause l’antichristianisme de l’État en tant que base essentielle de l’histoire de la nation. Un regard stimulant, qui renouvelle la compréhension de ce pays.

日本におけるキリスト教とイデオロギー、16世紀~19世紀
著者  ピエール·デュノワイエ |パリミッションの神父}。サーフ、2012年、236ページ、€25 パーシルヴァンUrfer
 
本書は、2011年出版された『日本におけるカトリック教会の歴史 1543~1945』を補うものである。本書は、17世紀初頭から徳川時代の反キリスト教は宗教的なスタンスではなかった、ということを示している。キリスト教を手におえない敵、危険な敵としてみなすことによって、なによりも、事の欠かない政治的イデオロギーでもって、権力を確保することを目指していた。禁教になったのは、外国のものであったからではない。諸法や処罰のシステムにはするものであったからである。社会的安定を保証する諸関係を脅かしていた。19世紀の明治の覇権主義的イデオロギーは、西洋の覇権主義の方法やテクニックを真似した。しかし、それには、反西洋的な立場を見せるために、国家のアイデンティティの基礎となっていた反キリスト教をも利用してきた。それは、1945年にどのような結果をもたらしたかは、周知のことである。民衆のコントロールを目標としていたこうした反キリスト教の主なテキストを紹介するのは著者Pierre Dunoyerの本書の豊かな実りをなしている。国史の本質的な基礎としての、国家の反キリスト教的立場を疑問にする日本の現代の歴史家たちからヒントを得ている。刺激となる著書で、日本という国の新たな理解を促している。

Anticristianesimo in Giappone

Christianisme et idéologie au Japon, XVIe-XIXe siècle
  Pierre Dunoyer |  Cerf, 2012, 236 p., 25 €  Par Sylvain Urfer | 26 mars 2013 
 
Ce livre complète l’Histoire du catholicisme au Japon (1543-1945), ouvrage publié au Cerf en 2011. Il montre que, dès les premiers Tokugawa au début du XVIIe siècle, l’antichristianisme au Japon n’a pas d’abord un objectif religieux. Faisant croire à un ennemi insaisissable et dangereux, il visait surtout à asseoir un pouvoir à l’aide d’une idéologie politique forgée de toutes pièces. Le christianisme a donc été interdit, non parce qu’il était étranger, mais parce que, s’opposant aux systèmes des lois et des châtiments, il menaçait des relations sociales garantes de stabilité. Au XXe siècle, l’idéologie impériale de l’ère Meiji a reproduit les méthodes et les techniques de l’impérialisme occidental ; mais pour signifier son opposition au même Occident, il a également utilisé l’antichristianisme, devenu fondement de l’identité nationale. Chacun sait où cela a mené en 1945. La présentation des principaux textes de ce discours antichrétien, dont le but était le contrôle des masses populaires, fait la richesse du livre de Pierre Dunoyer. Il s’inspire des historiens japonais qui, aujourd’hui, remettent en cause l’antichristianisme de l’État en tant que base essentielle de l’histoire de la nation. Un regard stimulant, qui renouvelle la compréhension de ce pays.

日本におけるキリスト教とイデオロギー、16世紀~19世紀
著者  ピエール·デュノワイエ |パリミッションの神父}。サーフ、2012年、236ページ、€25 パーシルヴァンUrfer
 
本書は、2011年出版された『日本におけるカトリック教会の歴史 1543~1945』を補うものである。本書は、17世紀初頭から徳川時代の反キリスト教は宗教的なスタンスではなかった、ということを示している。キリスト教を手におえない敵、危険な敵としてみなすことによって、なによりも、事の欠かない政治的イデオロギーでもって、権力を確保することを目指していた。禁教になったのは、外国のものであったからではない。諸法や処罰のシステムにはするものであったからである。社会的安定を保証する諸関係を脅かしていた。19世紀の明治の覇権主義的イデオロギーは、西洋の覇権主義の方法やテクニックを真似した。しかし、それには、反西洋的な立場を見せるために、国家のアイデンティティの基礎となっていた反キリスト教をも利用してきた。それは、1945年にどのような結果をもたらしたかは、周知のことである。民衆のコントロールを目標としていたこうした反キリスト教の主なテキストを紹介するのは著者Pierre Dunoyerの本書の豊かな実りをなしている。国史の本質的な基礎としての、国家の反キリスト教的立場を疑問にする日本の現代の歴史家たちからヒントを得ている。刺激となる著書で、日本という国の新たな理解を促している。

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

新生計画 2

Under the watch of a particular bishop the number of faithful has gon down by about 3500, over 6% of the total. In the same period in Nagoya the number is grown by about 2000, and in Tokyo by about 10,000. Now this particular bishop is being transfered to Nagoya, what do you think is going to happen? I leave it to your imagination.Otanoshimi.
ある司教のもとで、信者数は3500ほど減りました(全体の6%を超える)。同じ時期に名古屋教区では信者数は2000ほど増えました。東京大司教区では信者は一万増えました。さて、上記の司教は名古屋教区に任命されました。名古屋教区に何が起こるか、皆さんの想像力にお任せします。



Statistics  fonte: http://www.catholic-hierarchy.org/diocese/dosak.html
YearCatholicsTotal PopulationPercent CatholicDiocesan PriestsReligious PriestsTotal PriestsCatholics Per PriestPermanent DeaconsMale ReligiousFemale ReligiousParishesSource
Diocese of Osaka
195010,1107,952,9050.10%475510299 4245135ap1951
Archdiocese of Osaka
197050,85312,917,0240.40%55174229222 20989973ap1971
198056,94414,340,9800.40%48168216263121085179ap1981
199054,51915,245,5690.40%54157211258 20077981ap1991
199955,87115,313,0000.40%51142193289 17271178ap2000
200055,92015,340,9360.40%51135186300 16171478ap2001
200156,10315,453,4020.40%51130181309116370078ap2002
200256,11415,454,4940.40%53126179313115471078ap2003
200355,73615,466,7570.40%54125179311115268778ap2004
200455,73215,502,0270.40%55118173322114368577ap2005
201352,42515,424,5170.30%43113156336113863981ap2014

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

新生計画

何故なら、カトリック教会にとって最も大切なのは、信仰であり、救霊だからです。Suprema lex salus animarum. カトリック教会法典の最高法規は、救霊を目ざすものである、ということです。教会法のために霊魂があるのではなく、霊魂の救いのために教会法が存在しているからです。カトリック教会は「法至上主義」ではないからです。この教会の最高の法「霊魂の救い」は、今までは不文律でしたが、カトリック新教会法典にはそれが成文化されています。(Can. 1752 - ... prae oculis habita salute animarum, quae in Ecclesia suprema semper lex esse debet. )

Salus animarum suprema lex Ecclesiae 
Codices di diritto canonico can. 1752
Nella traduzione giapponese sono scomparse le anime. 
Cura animarum 
Can. 150
Anche qui nella versione giapponese sono scomparse le anime

Nel paese il cui governo amministra milioni di "anime" nella chiesa cattolica non si curano più le anime.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Intervista a Mons Takeo Okada

Visto dal Giappone
Incontro mons. Peter Takeo Okada, arcivescovo di Tokyo, a Casa
Santa Marta nel primo pomeriggio di lunedì 13 ottobre. Presento
a mons. Okada il numero de Il Regno che pubblica in italiano la risposta
dei vescovi giapponesi al questionario preparatorio al Sinodo.
E rimane positivamente sorpreso di trovare il testo in italiano,
anche perché – dice – «è quello che ho usato, in forma sintetica, per
il mio intervento al Sinodo».
– Quale è la sua impressione sul Sinodo visto con gli occhi del
Giappone?
«Anche se sono vescovo da 25 anni è la prima volta che partecipo
a un Sinodo. È un evento internazionale in cui si sommano
problematiche molto diverse. Da un lato un vescovo africano ha
detto oggi in aula che il suo paese è preoccupato per l’enorme aumento
della popolazione e la Chiesa trova quindi difficile comunicare
la propria idea sulla procreazione responsabile; o, ancora, che
una delle questioni principali dei matrimoni è data dalla diffusione
della poligamia come prassi corrente in Africa e anche in questo
caso comunicare l’insegnamento della Chiesa sulla famiglia non è
semplice.
Dall’altro, si trovano problematiche simili tra l’Italia e il Giappone,
come il calo drastico della popolazione e delle nascite; l’aumento
dell’età in cui ci si sposa (che spesso provoca il ricorso a costose cure
contro la sterilità); il fatto che molti non si sposano; il costo che le
famiglie devono sopportare per allevare ed educare un figlio; il fatto
che molte coppie decidono di non avere figli; il rovesciamento della
piramide demografica dove un vertice molto ristretto di giovani deve
mantenere una base molto ampia di anziani… Il Governo giapponese
ha attuato politiche di sostegno alla natalità ma non basta».
– Quali sono le problematiche più urgenti per il Giappone e i
quali i punti forza della sua cultura?
«Dopo la Seconda guerra mondiale, il Giappone ha dovuto ricostruire
partendo da zero. Il Governo ha puntato innanzitutto allo
sviluppo economico e poi sulla scolarizzazione in modo da rifondare
il paese. Rispetto al passato, in questi due secoli il percorso educativo
si è allungato di circa 10 anni. Ora a 17 anni tutti s’iscrivono all’università.
E poi c’è il lavoro. Il popolo giapponese non ha tempo libero,
studia molto, lavora molto. Ma questa attività frenetica che mirava
alla ricostruzione ha raggiunto il suo culmine. E si continua a lavorare
e a studiare moltissimo ma senza ulteriori sbocchi. Ogni anno ci sono
ufficialmente più di 30.000 suicidi. Manca il senso del futuro e di
speranza.
Questa situazione generale è vissuta anche dai cattolici che in
più si sforzano di vivere secondo il Vangelo. Ma i cattolici sono pochissimi,
sono lo 0,3% della popolazione, una situazione simile a
quella dei primi cristiani. Praticare la fede è difficile perché devono
vivere in una società fatta così. Ma poiché sono pochi, un uomo che
lavora deve seguire le esigenze dell’industria, che non sempre segue
l’insegnamento del Vangelo».
Dalla diaspora alla rete
– Si celebrano matrimoni misti?
«Quando ci sono matrimoni, spesso sono di un cristiano che è
l’unico in tutta la famiglia. Come può andare a messa se tutta la famiglia
fa diverso? Se una ragazza si sposa con un non cristiano, come
spesso capita, deve promettere che educherà i figli alla fede. Ma
questa promessa spaventa molti, visto che vivono il cristianesimo in
minoranza anche in famiglia. Non costringiamo quindi all’educazione
alla fede dei figli, ma chiediamo di promettere di compiere tutti
gli sforzi necessari per educarli secondo il Vangelo. I bambini, poi,
devono studiare molto, anche la domenica e vivono immersi in questo
clima fortemente competitivo; non possono quindi frequentare
la domenica la parrocchia.
Però occorre dire che i giapponesi hanno anche molte caratteristiche
positive su cui possiamo contare per il nostro lavoro pastorale.
Siamo un popolo molto onesto, diligente e lavoratore. La società
giapponese è molto sicura, anche le donne possono uscire la sera in
tutta sicurezza. E il fatto che si eviti con molta cura di dire tutto ciò
che si pensa per timore di ferire gli altri può essere anche un punto di
forza per il dialogo».
– Potrebbe quindi essere la base per una discussione sulla famiglia
anche con le altre religioni?
«In Giappone tutte le religioni collaborano non tanto sul tema
specifico della famiglia ma ad esempio per la pace, contro le discriminazioni,
per l’ecologia, perché su questi temi sono d’accordo. Recentemente
la Conferenza episcopale del Giappone ha invitato
buddhisti, shintoisti, bonzi per discutere la questione degli anziani
nella società sia sotto l’aspetto della loro cura e del loro ruolo, sia su
come riflettere sul tema della morte».
– È opportuno a suo avviso celebrare un Sinodo regionale o locale
sul tema della famiglia?
«Ci sono le conferenze episcopali asiatiche. Giovanni Paolo II
aveva indetto anche un Sinodo per l’Asia: a mio parere sono state
spese tante energie per fare, con buone intenzioni. Tuttavia l’Asia
non ha lingua comune, è costituita da realtà molto diverse; e i problemi
organizzativi sono molteplici… In Giappone, già nel 1999 si è
celebrato un piccolo Sinodo sul tema di come trasmettere la fede
nelle comunità cristiane attraverso i cristiani laici. La conclusione è
stata la seguente: la situazione è paragonabile a una diaspora e per
darsi forza la diaspora deve diventare una rete. Questa è la direzione.
Ciascuno vive separatamente e per darsi forza conta sulla comunicazione
che passa attraverso questa rete».
– E i movimenti come i neocatecumenali? Che ne è della discussione
sulla loro presenza?
«Forse per voi è difficile comprendere. E spesso a Roma abbiamo
faticato a far comprendere come il loro ruolo sia reso difficile da
questa situazione di diaspora. Per esempio in una parrocchia formata
al massimo da un centinaio di persone, l’entrata di un movimento
che chiede un’adesione forte provoca divisioni nella comunità e anche
il parroco si trova in difficoltà.
In Europa su un migliaio di persone, un gruppo di 100-200 persone
non sposta gli equilibri della comunità. Le comunità giapponesi
sono ancora piccole e non tollerano divisioni che portino a non stare
nella pace, che è un tema molto caro ai giapponesi, proprio in virtù
dell’indole giapponese a non dire ciò che all’altro potrebbe far male.
Alcuni movimenti sono più disponibili a integrarsi con questa visione
della società, altri, sicuramente molto ferventi, rischiano però di diventare
esclusivisti e questo non piace all’animo giapponese che di
per sé sarebbe più sincretista. Per i giapponesi è intollerabile che
qualcuno rivendichi il diritto all’unica religione.
Ai neocatecumenali è stato chiesto di lasciare il Giappone perché
non si inseriscono nel tessuto giapponese ma impongono la
propria visione. Se ne potrà riparlare, diciamo, magari tra cento anni,
quando il cristianesimo giapponese sarà cresciuto. Ancora però
qualcuno in Vaticano insiste…».
a cura di M.E. G.
C h i e s e l o c a l i -

Thursday, October 02, 2014

Munus ab obsequio

Munus ab obsequio

S. Tommaso afferma che la simonia. è un'eresia, poiché eresia, se non di dottrina, di fatto, è il credere vendibile il dono dello Spirito Santo (Sum. theol. II II 100). S. Gregorio Magno nel condannare l'eresia simoniaca ne specifica le tre forme: munus a manu (donativi o denaro), munus ab obsequio (adulazione intenzionale), munus a lingua (parola insinuante per la compera dei sacri uffici).

Ecco come si dice leccaculo in latino.




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Shusako Endo’s iThe Golden Country/i and “the full symphony” of Catholicism | Catholic World Report - Global Church news and views

Shusako Endo’s iThe Golden Country/i and “the full symphony” of Catholicism | Catholic World Report - Global Church news and views

 
The CWR Blog
When threatened with petty political correctness, American Catholics should bear in mind Endo’s depiction of heroic Christian witness.
“Plunged into the boiling waters of Unzen, they hung on, believing this was the way to Paradise.  Even when they had huge rocks tied to them and were dropped into the middle of the sea, with their last breath they sang out their prayers … This is true fealty.  Even as a samurai, I have never to this day seen so great a fealty.” – Lord Tomonoga, Shusaku Endo’s The Golden Country         
In 1633 Jesuit missionary Christovao Ferriera was captured by agents of the Japanese shogunate, which had recently turned against Christianity. As a representative of the prohibited foreign religion Ferriera was then condemned to “the Pit,” a procedure described in grisly detail by scholar and priest Francis Mathy, SJ:
The victim’s body and arms and legs were tightly tied with rope and he was suspended head first into a pit filled with offal. A hole was drilled in his temple to permit the blood to fall one drop at a time, thus preventing rapid death from circulatory obstruction. This torture could be made to last several days and even an entire week before death took place. 
Ferriera did not last a week. After a few hours he emerged alive—and broken. In exchange for his life he had renounced the Faith. 
Ferriera was not, of course, the first Christian or even the first priest to deny Christ due to threats or pain. Such failures have an extensive lineage, stretching all the way back to St. Peter. But his case is rendered striking by the fanaticism he directed against the Church following his fall. Renouncing his baptism, Ferriera adopted the name of a recently executed criminal (“Sawano Chuan”) and then put his keenly-trained intellect to work constructing polemics against the Church and plots against the Christian underground. He had once been Superior General of the Jesuit order; now he became the order’s archenemy, and the author of anti-Christian works like A Clear Exposition of the False Doctrine
All this will be familiar to those who have encountered Shusaku Endo’s The Golden Country. A somewhat conflicted Japanese Catholic, Endo used his 1966 play to highlight the Faith’s multi-dimensional interaction with Japanese culture. “If I have trust in Catholicism,” he once explained, “it is because I find in it much more possibility than in any other religion for presenting the full symphony of humanity. The other religions have almost no fullness; they have but solo parts. Only Catholicism can present the full symphony.” In the case of The Golden Country, Endo’s longstanding desire to make this “full symphony” more accessible has formed the basis for a classic work of dramatic art.
The action begins in Nagasaki, where we are quickly introduced to Lord Tomonoga—middle-aged samurai, closet Christian, and one of the play’s foremost protagonists. Using his position as an official in the shogunate’s dreaded Bureau of Investigation to assist his persecuted co-religionists, Tomonoga falls under the suspicion of said Bureau’s Chief Investigator—a keen-witted, self-hating apostate by the name of Inoue. Intent on capturing Father Ferriera—who has, up till now, evaded the authorities by moving stealthily from village to village—Inoue decides to use the samurai as bait. Cornering Tomonaga, Inoue orders him to perform the fumi-e—a ritual of apostasy whereby Christian faith is denied by trampling on an icon of Christ.
As expected, Tomonaga refuses, thus outing himself. He is thrust into the pit, and Inoue publicly proclaims that his life will be spared if Father Ferriera turns himself in. After much soul-searching, Ferriera does just that, but Inoue goes back on his word, leaving Tomonaga in the pit until the samurai finally dies. Ferriera’s own turn in the pit comes, and he shocks the Christian community by giving in and performing the fumi-e for all to see. “You see,” crows Hirata, a petty Bureau official who detests all spiritual ideals, bushido and Gospel alike, “we are stronger than your God.”
Hirata feels doubly triumphant because he has entrapped Gennosuke, a young samurai who loves Tomonaga’s daughter Yuki. Though a pagan, Gennosuke has developed a soft spot toward Christianity for the sake of his devout beloved—and so treasures a crucifix she has secretly given him, even though he does not quite understand what it means. Of course crucifixes are strictly forbidden, so when Hirata discovers it he seizes the opportunity to denounce Gennosuke as a Christian sympathizer. Tied to stakes in the ocean, Gennosuke and Yuki sing hymns together until they are drowned by the incoming tide; in contrast the two apostates Ferriera and Inoue remain alive to contemplate their degradation. The play closes with the chanting of martyrs in the background, while word arrives that a new team of missionaries has infiltrated the country. By the time the curtain closes, it is evident that not even the Bureau can wipe out the Church completely.
As Lord Tomonoga most exemplifies the marriage of the Faith with Japanese culture, it is worth pointing out that the Catholic samurai is no invention of Endo’s but is rather an idealized representation of historical figures like Takayama Ukon and Bl. Melchior Kumagai Motonao. Thanks to his submission to the Gospel, Tomonaga sees the inner significance of the samurai code—the word samurai literally meaning “service to the master.” Nobility entails not privilege but duty, Tomonaga muses shortly before his death; the true aristocrat does not exploit his people, but instead seeks to set a good example for them. 
Almost as intriguing is the conflicted Chief Investigator Inoue, who calls to mind Dostoevsky’s Grand Inquisitor. When Tomonaga refuses to perform the fumi-e, Inoue is not so much angry as sad. Convinced that Christianity is truly a glorious, enlightened teaching, Inoue is equally convinced that this teaching is incompatible with the Japanese temperament. If so, all the blood heroically shed for the sake of Japanese Christianity has been a tragic waste. Japan is not really the golden country of noble pagans described by St. Francis Xavier, Inoue tells Tomonaga with a hint of bitterness, but “a mudswamp,” one wherein “God’s shoots would not grow.” Far from being a source of triumph, Tomonoga’s eventual death only makes the Chief Investigator even gloomier, for he knows Tomonaga to be of an increasingly rare breed, a “samurai among samurai.” Now low-minded sadists like Hirata are the only people left working at the Bureau.
Except for Gennosuke, that is. An idealist, Gennosuke devotedly takes care of his widowed mother, looks up to Tomonaga, and dreams reverently of the girl he loves, and through him we get a sense of the best that pre-Christian Japan has to offer. At first he intends to carry out the fumi-e ritual to clear himself—he is not, after all, a Christian, so why shouldn’t he trample on the crucifix? But then Yuki speaks up at his trial, and in the ensuing exchange the pagan youth helps clarify the meaning of Christian martyrdom:
YUKI: Gennosuke, if you step on the fumi-e, the bond that binds our two hearts together will snap forever. This may have been made by an unknown craftsman in Nagasaki, but to me it has been all my life the most precious of all things. All my life I have adored it. If you step on it, you will go completely out of my life. Instead, step on me.
HIRATA: Oh, this is very interesting. I like nothing better than to throw mud at what is beautiful and spit on what is noble. This kind of perversion the officials of the Bureau must all have to some degree. Gennosuke, this lady is asking you to step on her face instead of on the     fumi-e.
YUKI: Hirata-dono, will you be satisfied if Gennosuke steps on me? Will that clear up your suspicions?
HIRATA: It most certainly will.
YUKI: Then, Gennosuke, please step on me. Everything that’s happened has been my fault. Step on me.
(She pauses as she waits for Gennosuke to step on her. But he cannot.)
GENNOSUKE:  I don’t know anything about the teaching of Christ. But now I see this clearly. If Yuki is to be hung in the pit, I want to be hung there too. If she is to be burned, I want to die with her.
Note that Gennosuke is hardly motivated by a commitment to love in the abstract. It is not his right to love which occupies his mind, but his commitment to his actual beloved. Likewise, Yuki could care less about some hypothetical right to practice Shinto or Buddhism or Taoism. What inspires her is not her religious freedom, but rather Christ. 
As for Father Ferriera, following his apostasy he seeks comfort, oddly enough, by comparing himself to Judas—who in Ferriera’s skewed theology was a martyr, too, insofar as Judas both suffered greatly for his actions and played a key role in bringing Christ’s work to completion. Yet Inoue will have none of it. Although deeming it his duty to war upon Christianity, the Chief Investigator is secretly disappointed by Ferriera’s failure. Hence Inoue has no patience for the rationalizations of “Sawano Chuan,” and acts as an unexpected voice of orthodoxy: “You are wrong. Stop deceiving yourself […] you are just bending the teachings of Christ to suit your weakness, trying to disguise your misery even from yourself.” Unlike the metaphysically passive Buddhist, Inoue insists firmly, the Christian acknowledges God’s gift of free will—a gift necessarily accompanied by responsibility.
Unlike Endo’s earlier controversial work Silence—a novel which dealt with much of the same material, albeit in a problematic fashion—The Golden Country offers us a vision of a robust and spiritually powerful Japanese Christianity. This comes as no surprise, given the historical source material that inspired Endo. Until the latter half of the 19th century, when authorities finally lifted their ban, the Japanese church kept alive by operating underground, patiently awaiting the day when the legendary fathers would return again from across the sea. Cut off from Rome and under constant threat of death, Japanese Christians baptized their children and taught them what they could via precious fragments of Scripture and doctrine. Need I point out the stark contrast with modern American Catholicism, which possesses far greater resources, opportunities, and liberty, yet has in most of its schools and institutions proven incapable of instilling even a minimum of respect for the Magisterium? 
For that matter, when all is said and done maybe we should even be careful about passing too harsh a judgment on Ferriera. After all, he only yielded to anti-Christian forces after having been put through torture as brutal as anything featured in a modern-day horror movie. Far milder forms of persuasion have proven effective in getting countless American Catholics to compromise with the enemy—and even, like Ferriera, to actively aid that enemy. Every time some mandarin of political-correctness tries to intimidate us with name-calling, or fines, or the prospect of getting fired, we should, instead of cowering, think long and hard of the boiling waters of Unzen, of the crucifixions at Nagasaki, of the pit where so many of our co-religionists breathed their last. Then, without rancor, we should laugh at him.
 
About the Author
Jerry Salyer

Catholic convert Jerry Salyer is a philosophy instructor living in Franklin County, Kentucky.
 

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Osservatore romano

Osservatore romano

Qualsiasi traduzione dal giappone-
se in una lingua occidentale deve
avere l'onestà di riconoscere un'im-
perfezione allusiva: non si dice mai
esattamente la stessa cosa nell'una e
nell'altra lingua. Infatti mentre le let-
tere dell'alfabeto, prese separatamen-
te, non hanno senso e non creano né
immagini né emozioni, ogni ideo-
gramma cinese, necessario per preci-
sare il significato dei tanti omofoni
esistenti nella lingua giapponese, tra-
smette all'occhio e alla mente infor-
mazioni che pur non avendo nulla a
vedere con il senso del testo sono co-
munque là e interpellano il lettore.
L'ideogramma an, ad esempio, pa-
ce in cinese e in associazione con
shin/cuore, tranquillità in giappone-
se, raffigura una donna sotto un tet-
to. In effetti, quando una madre è in
casa e se ne prende cura, tutta la fa-
miglia sta tranquilla. Il termine giap-
ponese Kotoba in italiano diventa pa-
rola, termine riduttivo rispetto all'ori-
ginale che si scrive, a meno di non
optare per i segni kana sillabici e so-
lo fonetici impossibilitati di esplicita-
re un significato, con due ideogram-
mi: uno significa "dire", l'altro signi-
fica "foglia". Dunque i due ideo-
grammi che assieme vogliono dire
parola/parole, sul piano del signifi-
cante loro proprio accostano le paro-
le alle foglie. E così per magia della
ipotiposi sui generis suggerita dagli
ideogrammi, le parole volant. Ma
hanno anche un peso. «Noi e Lei,
Padre, siamo un cuore solo!», le pa-
role di quell'umile donna piena di fe-
de dal poetico nome Yuri (giglio),
contraddicono il detto verba volant
come lo intendiamo di solito e, per
la profondità del loro significato so-
stanziato dalla fede, di fatto manent
in ognuno di noi.
Oggi, nella cattedrale di Ooura,



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Sunday, September 28, 2014

Why they are hooked on classical - Telegraph

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/music/3652458/Why-they-are-hooked-on-classical.html


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Why they are hooked on classical

Seiji Ozawa
Devotion: Japanese conductor Seiji Ozawa 
The country has shown an extraordinary devotion to Western music for 140 years. Ivan Hewett reports on where that love has led the Japanese
Where is the nerve centre of classical music in the early 21st century? Answering that question depends on your criteria. If it's to do with possessing a venerable tradition, you might choose Vienna. If it's the location of the best orchestras and opera houses, you might choose Berlin. If it's finding exuberantly creative ways to reinvent the tradition, London or New York seem strong contenders. But if the true measure is a passionate devotion amounting almost to idolatry, Tokyo would win the palm.
It's revealed in a thousand ways, not least in the sweetly earnest way people talk about the art form. The president of the Japan Arts Corporation wrote in his company's concert brochure that "music has the power to foster a richer greater experience for the human soul." Audiences listen in a silence that one can only describe as fervent. At one concert in Tokyo, my neighbour sat perfectly still, eyes closed, for the entire three hours of Bach's St Matthew Passion, with only a tiny rhythmic movement of his little finger to show that he was still alive.
Even more striking is the way the Japanese put their money where their mouths are. Tokyo has eight orchestras, which is one more than Berlin, a city normally seen as the acme of orchestral lavishness. On any night you find at least as many concerts in as many genres as you can in London. And these concerts take place in venues of a quality that puts London's halls to shame. Often they're buried inside vast gleaming complexes of shops and hotels, such as the well-known Suntory Hall. Even more exquisite in sound and sight is the main hall at Tokyo Opera City. Everything that meets your eye is made of wood. Music in here rings out beautifully, as if the hall is vibrating like a giant violin.
This profusion isn't just a feature of Tokyo. Even quite modest provincial towns have lavish arts centres, thanks in large part to the so-called "bubble" economy of the '80s and early '90s. One of them, the Mito Art Tower, has one of the world's great chamber orchestras in residence, whose chief conductor is Seiji Ozawa. The chief executive, Yazawa Takaki, is clearly proud of the centre, and is keen to show me the theatre, modelled on Shakespeare's Globe. But, once inside the concert hall, he reveals an anxiety about the arts in Japan. "You hear the silence in this hall? That is what music really needs, but we have so little silence in our lives. I really wonder whether the younger generation will be able to hear music at all."
It was a surprise to hear Yazawa unwittingly express the ancient Japanese idea of ma. This guiding concept behind much traditional music performance says that music lives only in constant dialogue with silence. It was a reminder that many factors come together in the Japanese love affair with classical music, some ancient, some new. The most obvious factor is fairly recent - Japan's decision in 1868 to end centuries of isolation and open itself to the West. One of the first imports was Western music. By 1872 Western music had supplanted traditional music in the Japanese school system, and in 1884 the philosopher Shoichi Toyama actually suggested that Christianity should be adopted because it would help the new music to take root.
Another advantage of Western music was that it seemed better suited to modern sensibilities than the old traditional songs. The writer Nagai Kafu, who studied in Paris, remarked sadly that "no matter how much I wanted to sing Western songs, they were all very difficult. Had I, born in Japan, no choice but to sing Japanese songs? Was there a Japanese song that expressed my present sentiment - a traveller who had immersed himself in love and the arts in France but was now going back to the extreme end of the Orient where only death would follow monotonous life? I felt forsaken. I belonged to a nation that had no music to express swelling emotions and agonised feelings."
But Kafu lived long enough to see that his fears were unfounded. Japan embraced Western ways as its own, a process only briefly interrupted by the Second World War. By the 1950s, Japan had its own artists' agency, and foreign artists were again visiting the country.
At first, the cost was prohibitive. Kaz Nakaya, a retired university English professor and self-confessed opera buff, says that when he first became interested in classical music an LP cost as much as an average month's salary. But the upward momentum was unstoppable. Japan was by now no longer an importer of Western music; it had its own orchestras, some of which, such as the Tokyo Philharmonic, had quite long histories. It had several distinguished manufacturers of pianos and other instruments, which were serious rivals to Western firms. It had its own performing virtuosi, and its own composers, one of whom, Toru Takemitsu, had a worldwide reputation.
It seemed as if Japan was now set to repeat the trick it had pulled off in the economic sphere: beating the West at its own game. Soon Europe and America would be importing Japanese orchestras and singers the same way it had imported Japanese fax machines and Hondas.
The fact that this hasn't happened shows that after nearly 140 years, classical music isn't yet thoroughly naturalised. The roots seem shallowest in opera, the area of classical music where Japanese performers most obviously lag behind Western ones; only a handful of Japanese singers have made even a modest impact in the West. One reason for the disparity is that the Japanese themselves have a prejudice against their own performers, which is why so many Japanese performers choose to live in the West.
Noriko Kawai, a pianist living in London, says there are all kinds of barriers against home-grown talent. "It costs around a million yen, about £5,000, to promote a concert in Tokyo, and unless you have in a way become a Western artist, like Mitsuko Uchida, people won't come. And the leading agents like Kajimoto and Japan Arts give much better terms to foreigners. I know the Japanese artists have equal prominence in their glossy brochures, but the difference is that they have paid to be there! Whereas the agent takes the financial risk for the foreign artists."
A deeper reason, in the eyes of many Western critics, is a distressing lack of any striking individuality in many Japanese performers. Always one hears the complaint that Japanese performers have staggering technical facility but a certain emotional reticence. A factor in this is the very strict training, which, according to Kawai, is bound up with just the same rigid social hierarchies you find in traditional music.
"I knew one violin teacher who used to prick the young player's wrist with a needle if it sank below the required height. And I caused a huge row when I tried to study with a very distinguished teacher without first studying with one of his pupils. I was breaking the rule that you have to work your way up step by step."
According to the critic Takuo Ikeda, another big problem for Japanese classical musicians is the sheer distance between themselves and the West, which has created a strange time-lag. "Teachers pass on the ideas they picked up from their studies in Europe 30 years before," he says. "But I think things are changing. Air travel is so much cheaper now, and of course there's the internet. And young people today are not so conformist as their parents."
Maybe so. But when I attended a masterclass for young Japanese singing students given by two distinguished German singers, I was struck by how inhibited the students were. The distinguished visitors didn't really succeed in persuading the students to express the feelings in the words.
At the bottom of these young students, who seem so completely Westernised, something stubbornly refused to let go. The story of Japan's long affair with classical music is a healthy reminder that, when it comes to cultures, an affair isn't easily turned into a marriage.
  • The City of London Festival (0845 120 7502) in June features Japanese musicians including Noriko Ogawa and the Tokyo String Quartet.