Dixie Missions, Japanese Style

“Dixie Missions, Japanese Style: Weaving Orthodoxy into a Heterodox Funeral”

By Arlyn Kantz

Saint Nikolai Kasatkin (1857-1912) labored as a missionary to Japan for nearly fifty years. When he began his work, the Japanese saw all foreigners as beasts, and Christianity as a villainous sect to which only reprobates and sorcerers could belong. When he reposed, he left behind over 250 Japanese Orthodox communities (oca.org/saints).

We Orthodox Christians living in these Southern United States have yet to be repudiated by the surrounding culture as beasts and reprobates. Still, there is much to learn from Saint Nicholas’s approach. Four principles drawn from his life can embolden even a reluctant layman:

1. Saint Nikolai dedicated himself to knowing the culture.

Saint Nikolai’s translation work of scripture and divine services attest to the years he spent immersed in the religious context of modern Japan. In partnership with a devoted national, he carefully selected unambiguous words to distinguish Orthodox Christianity from the soup of animism, shamanism, Neo-Confucianism, and Buddhism in which the nation swam. The result was a distinctively Orthodox Japanese vocabulary which continues to to be used to this day. Additionally, Nikolai never had at any time more than four Russian missionaries working with him. He gave himself almost entirely to the work of training Japanese as priests and catechists.

2. Saint Nikolai loved those he came to serve.

Saint Nikolai’s sustained missionary endeavor would have been impossible without his devoted love for the Japanese people. Once, during a return visit to his home in Russia, he wrote the following in his journal:

When I was in Japan I always wanted to come back to Russia. Now that I am in Russia there isn’t a single day in which I do not wish to return to Japan. Even when I am meeting with my best friends, everything I am thinking and talking about pertains to Japan. God, if you hear my plea, please return me to that land and do not permit the thought of visiting Russia to enter my mind again. (Chang, 115)

After this heartfelt prayer, not even the Russo-Japanese War (1904-05) could weaken the bond he felt with his Japanese flock.

3. Saint Nikolai built upon traditions that were already present.

Early on, Nikolai came to realize that although the sources of Japanese culture were ancient, its religion had stagnated. The more he studied, the more he was convinced that only by accepting Christianity could the Japanese people make further spiritual progress. He saw their spiritual beliefs as a framework to build upon, not burn down. Shintoism shared with Orthodoxy the knowledge of sacred space and the understanding that there are no boundaries between the natural and supernatural. Buddhism encouraged souls to prepare for the afterlife. Confucianism emphasized ritual propriety, valued tradition over individualism, and encouraged the veneration of those who were more enlightened. Japanese spirituality did not need to be obliterated, but brought to completion.

4. Saint Nikolai was sensitive to roadblocks to conversion.

In 1865, Bishop Nikolai sent letters of introduction to Russian hierarchs in which he asked them to be hospitable to six young samurai traveling to Russia as interpreters. In his communication, he requested that the Russian clergy not encourage them toward conversion because Christianity was strictly forbidden in Japan. Nikolai’s sensitivity allowed these visitors to form a favorable attitude toward Russia, laying a foundation for future ministry. Eight years later, many samurai entered the Church when Christianity was officially tolerated in Japan.

Applying Nikolai to Dixie

Recently my husband, Will, and I were given the opportunity of fleshing out the above principles as we walked through the passing of my non-Orthodox mother-in-law. Because of Will’s long history of knowing and loving, he was trusted by both his immediate and extended family in a time of deep need. Due to seeds sown in prior decades, we Orthodox laity were given opportunity after opportunity to live out our ancient faith. As family and friends entered and exited the hospice room, we were allowed to offer long-lost spiritual treasures to the strange conglomeration of fading East Texas good-old-boy Methodism mixed with megachurch pseudo-Christianity. Their tradition had been eroded out from beneath their feet, leaving them little to lean on besides platitudes when death approached. Again and again, to our surprise and joy, ancient tradition filled in the gaps.

After saying her goodbyes with her customary kindness, my mother-in-law sank within herself and her breathing slowed. We were informed by the staff that because her pulse remained steady, this state could last for days. Only the closest were left now to hold vigil. There was no deathbed family history or tools of transition to draw upon. Except for the pamphlets left by the nurses, we were on our own. Will and I had the experience of reading before a clergy funeral and both of us were familiar with the Barnas’ work. This gave us the necessary spark of confidence. As a gift to his mother, Will turned off the TV and began to quietly chant the Psalms. His sister brightened and encouraged him to continue, and when he grew weary, I took up where he left off. Neither of us are chanters but our modge-podge of amateur Byzantine-Gregorian filled the room. In the wee hours of the morning, the Psalms were completed. At dawn, we dove into the Gospels with our Christ-loving family members asking to take shifts as well. We changed our chant to reading and the room was filled with a holiness that blessed both nurses who entered and those just passing by.

When the Gospel of John came to a conclusion, I noted that my mother-in-law’s breathing had changed. Looping back to her favorite psalm I read The Lord is my shepherd then continued on to the next chapter. With the following prayer of David, she breathed her last:

Lift up your heads, O gates!
And be lifted up, O ancient doors,
that the King of glory may come in.
Who is this King of glory?
The Lord, strong and mighty,
the Lord, mighty in battle!
Lift up your heads, O gates!
And lift them up, O ancient doors,
that the King of glory may come in.
Who is this King of glory?
The Lord of hosts,
he is the King of glory!

When the nurse sent in the chaplain, he held a respectful silence. The Orthodox prayer being read aloud sufficed.

This article would double in length if I told of how Will’s family granted our Orthodox request for no embalming and an open casket, of how they allowed me to place my Orthodox cross around her sweet Protestant neck, and of how our autistic son put an icon in her hands before the coffin closed. The funeral service was no liturgy. My daughters and I played our string trio, honoring the dead with a medley of old country hymns full of questionable theology. But we “crazy” Orthodox had been given so much, and we knew it was our time to serve the wishes of others. The Eastern window of opportunity had closed with the coming of death and we were more than satisfied.

But God—who loves it when I acquiesce—was far from finished.

The Baptist preacher, who had invited all to salvation during the do-it-yourself funeral, had a conflict and could not perform his graveside duties. The family turned to Will. Next day, right after sunrise to avoid the Texas heat, Will entered into the honor of praying parts of the Orthodox funeral service beside his mother’s open grave. Skipping all mention of the Theotokos so as not to scandalize his listeners, he wept over the mystery of hope in the face of death before mourners who had never before tasted the beauty of Holy Church. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

As for Saint Nikolai’s fourth principle—be sensitive to the roadblocks to conversion—this has not been Will’s and my strong suit. We have been repeatedly frustrated by the lack of visible results as we sometimes too-excitedly share with our family our Orthodox discoveries. We’ve been less than empathetic about their roadblocks, forgetting too easily that livelihoods and social connections are deeply imbedded in familiar Protestantisms. Glory to God that in the midst of tragedy we were given the opportunity to show instead of tell, to put feet to our faith, and they welcomed and blessed us as we muddled our way forward.

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Source material unless otherwise noted:

Chang, P., Van Remortel, M. (Eds). (2003). Saint Nikolai Kasatkin and the Orthodox Mission in Japan: A Collection of Writings by an International Group of Scholars About Saint Nikolai, His Disciples, and the Mission. Divine Assent Press.

Arlyn Kantz came into Orthodoxy from a Bapticostal background in 2011. She lives in Alvarado, Texas, and attends Archangel Gabriel in Weatherford. Kantz has Sunday school curriculum in the works with Ancient Faith Publishing, summer 2024. She writes fiction under the pen name A.J. Prufrock.