On the serene island of Ikitsuki in rural Nagasaki, Japan, a unique religious tradition has persisted through the centuries—the devotion to what residents refer to as the Closet God. Here, in a small room hardly larger than a tatami mat, lies a scroll of an Asian woman draped in a kimono, bearing what appears to be a Buddhist Bodhisattva holding a child. To those who gather in worship, this image conceals Mary and the infant Jesus. Another scroll depicts a kimono-clad man with camellias, symbolizing John the Baptist’s martyrdom.
Amidst these images are other relics from a time when Japan’s Christians concealed their faith in the face of severe persecution. Among them is a ceramic bottle of holy water from Nakaenoshima, the site of 1620s martyrs. Every item in this modest space subtly signifies Christianity, illustrating the lengths these followers undertook to protect their beliefs from an oppressive regime.
The reopening of Japan in 1865, after centuries of isolation, allowed many Hidden Christians to embrace mainstream Catholicism. Yet a portion chose to sustain the unique version of Christianity evolved during their clandestine struggle, a version attuned to surviving under persistent threat. In remote Nagasaki areas like Ikitsuki, these Hidden Christians continue venerating these cryptic images, chanting in an archaic Latin not common for centuries, safeguarding a connection to a historical period of samurai and Christian martyrs.
However, with an aging and dwindling population, there is a palpable fear that this distinct faith practice is nearing its end. The younger generation is either relocating to urban areas or drifting from the faith, leaving the remaining elders fervently attempting to document this rare branch of Christianity and its potential loss. One such elder, Masatsugu Tanimoto, 68, is among the few who can still recite the ancient Latin chants. “I fear we are the last,” he expressed solemnly, lamenting that this cherished tradition may soon vanish.
Christianity saw rapid expansion in 16th century Japan due to the success of Jesuit missionaries converting both lords and commoners, particularly in Kyushu’s Nagasaki, a hub for foreign trade. But the ruling shoguns, perceiving Christianity as a threat, initiated harsh crackdowns in the early 17th century. Thousands faced death, and survivors sought refuge in secrecy. By 1865, as Japan began opening to outside influence, a dozen Hidden Christians courageously revealed their existence to a French Catholic priest in Nagasaki, showcasing their enduring fidelity.
While many converted following the 1873 lifting of the Christianity ban, some continued as Kakure Kirishitan, maintaining the practices safeguarded during years underground. These rituals form a direct connection to a bygone era. Interviews highlighted the profound bonds forged in communities where a single lapse could endanger lives. The taboo against visible Christian symbols after the 1614 ban saw believers rotate custody of cherished ritual items and host secret services celebrating courage and faith—a custom still alive today, virtually unchanged since the 16th century.
The group leader in Ikitsuki, known as Oji, presides over various ceremonies, ensuring the continuity of these ancient rituals. Variations exist among regions: Sotome’s believers revered a Bodhisattva dubbed Maria Kannon, a guise for Mary. In Ibaragi, hidden relics like a lacquer bowl with a cross, a crucified Christ statue, and an ivory Mary were unearthed from a concealed box. These artifacts symbolize a deep respect for ancestry among Hidden Christians.
After persecution ended, many rejected Catholicism due to doctrinal differences, particularly concerning ancestral Buddhist altars. Professor Emi Mase-Hasegawa of J.F. Oberlin University emphasized the community’s pride in century-old beliefs, life-threatening yet enduring. Tanimoto feels his lineage clung to Hidden Christianity as adopting Catholicism necessitated abandoning the ingrained Buddhist and Shinto elements embraced during persecution. Despite prayers centered on Mary and Jesus, Tanimoto explained they are appeals for ancestral protection rather than devout worship.
The Orasho, an integral element of Hidden Christian ceremonies, represents historical Latin or Portuguese prayers introduced by 16th-century missionaries. Recently, an Orasho was performed on Ikitsuki by three men in formal kimonos, blending ancient Japanese with Latin, signifying a rare preservation of history. Tanimoto, the youngest of only four men in his community familiar with the Orasho, recalled witnessing these rites in childhood. Learning from his uncle, he has passed down the ability to communicate with the Closet God, as his family has for generations.
Despite writing Latin passages the elders understand little, the tradition perseveres through memory rather than comprehension. Today, with funerals no longer held at homes and youth increasingly absent, the Orasho is recited infrequently. There is little documentation of Hidden Christians, making their current numbers ambiguous. The decline of agriculture and increase in women’s workforce participation post-WWII weakened the tight-knit communal bonds fundamental to Hidden Christianity.
Shigeo Nakazono, who has extensively researched and recorded interviews with Hidden Christians, identified individualism as a threat to the faith’s survival due to a lack of professional religious instruction. Nakazono has begun archiving artifacts and interviews to preserve this imperiled religion’s history. Mase-Hasegawa also recognizes this eventual extinction as a significant loss for research.
Masashi Funabara, 63, a retired town official, lamented the dissolution of most local groups over two decades. His group consists of just two families, a stark reduction from ten in his district, barely holding gatherings a few times each year. He felt compelled to carry on despite hardship out of respect for ancestors who endured persecution. Writing Orasho passages like his father, Funabara hopes his son will eventually succeed him.
Similarly, Tanimoto wishes for his son to sustain the tradition. Acknowledging the inevitability of Hidden Christianity’s extinction, he clings to the hope it remains alive within his family, seeing a faint but persistent light in its continuity.