The Mountain is on Fire

“How could I be so careless? I knew there was something strange about that monk’s laugh”

Tsutomu plopped his big frame down and fumed. His body still ached from the many wounds sustained in the ambush. “What kind of room is this? The walls must be about two feet thick. They drugged me, shaved my head, and brought me here. If I only had my sword.”

“I smell smoke. Why would they be lighting such a big fire in the middle of summer? The crazy eunuchs!” The smell of smoke got stronger and the room warmer. He then heard the crackling sound of burning wood and realized the building was on fire. He heard the screams of men charging and dying. It sounded faintly familiar; like a castle being stormed by an invading army.

“They are being attacked! Someone set the building on fire! This is not the way to die!” He yelled, “Ukon, Ukon, get me out of here you rat.” No one came. He yelled louder. The screams of dying monks got louder too. He banged his fists against the wall.

The smoke started to get intense. He coughed uncontrollably. “Of all the ways to die. Suffocating in a rat hole on some God forsaken mountain.” Suddenly a secret door opened up and Ukon waved him through. “Hurry!”

Tsutomu covered his nose and mouth with a cloth and stumbled through the smoke filled room. He felt something hit his hand. It was his sword. “Use it! Protect me and I will lead you out of this inferno.”

Before he could say yes, a samurai jumped in front of him and tried to slice his head off. He rolled on the ground and dodged the strike. He simultaneously pulled his katana out and with one swipe took out the warrior’s leg. The samurai let out a shrill scream. Blood spurted all over the ground and shoji doors. He then finished him off with a thrust into the throat. He tried to yell, but only the sound of gurgling blood could be heard at the end of his blade.

He instinctively cut off the attackers head and rolled it into the horde of oncoming ashigaru. They stopped in their tracks. It was their chance to make a move. Ukon yelled, “Follow me!”

The corridor was filling with smoke fast. They had no time to waste. The little monk opened a side door next to a cabinet and led him down some steps into a secret grotto behind the temple. The sound of yelling and screams got fainter and fainter as they walked deeper into the garden.

Tsutomu rubbed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air. Ukon vomited into the stream, wiping his mouth with his sleeves . They again heard the wailing of dying men and the barking of orders “Burn this whore house down to the ground!”

Their eyes finally met and Tsutomu without hesitation unsheathed his sword to cut off the little monks head. Ukon cried out, “If you kill me, you will also die. You do not know the secret trails and tunnels that will get you to safety. Oda Nobunaga’s troops have surrounded the whole mountain. They are burning everything in sight. You have no chance without me. ”

“I will take my chances.” With that he lifted his sword at the cowering monk. “Wait! I have gold. It’s buried in Kyoto. If you let me live, I will take you there. Samurai do not kill defenseless monks. How shameful!” He held his sword aloft for a few more seconds and then slowly brought it back down. “You rat! You deserve to die. Keep your gold. I do not want to defile my sword with your blood or my purse with your money. Take me off this hell hole now!”

The monk sheepishly smiled and motioned the samurai to follow him. Just then an arrow zipped by both of their heads and lodged itself into a pine tree. “There they are! Kill them!” Ukon yelled, “Hurry!” Tsutomu hid behind a rock and when three samurai turned the corner, he sliced all three of their throats with one swing. Blood splattered all over the carefully manicured garden. They fell to the ground clutching their throats.

“This will buy us some time. Monk, get us off this hill!”

They ran to the base of a thundering waterfall. “The path is behind this waterfall! We need to dive in.” They both tied their robes around their waist and plunged themselves under the boiling foam of the falls.

The water was icy cold. The force of the falls pushed them to the floor of the pool. They soon made it to the other side and slowly climbed up the mossy rocks. Carved into the walls were carefully sculptured statues of Amidha Buddha.

Ukon walked up to one of the altars and lifted up the statue. In it he found some torches, dried moss, and flint. He hit the rocks. Sparks immediately flicked out onto the dry moss and a flame sputtered into existence. He placed the oil soaked torches near the flame. Soon, the whole cavern filled with light and they saw the pathway that led down the hill.

Ukon handed Tsutomu one of the torches and they both made their way toward the secret passage.

As they climbed down, they could hear the armies of Oda Nobunaga over head. It made Tsutomu uneasy knowing that only a few feet of rock separated him from his enemies. They must have silently walked for about three hours when Ukon abruptly said, “All you samurai are alike. You murder, pillage, and expect us to bow to you.”

“Hey monk, you want to lose your head again?” “Take my head! You scum bag samurai! It’s better to die than to continue to cower to you!”

Tsutomu thought, “This monk has guts! He’s still a rat, but I will let him live. Listening to him rant and rave will humor me while we walk down this monotonous path.”

“Hey monk, why is Nobunaga exterminating your kinsmen?” “He is the devil incarnate!” shouted Ukon. “Yes, he is ruthless, but he must have good reason to march his entire army to Mount Hiezan and exterminate all of you. Maybe you are the demons that need to be exorcised!”

The little monk glared at Tsutomu. He continued to pile on the abuse, “Maybe all your rat dung is stinking up all of Hiezan and Nobunaga just wants to smell fresh air wafting into Kyoto again.”

“Shut up! Shut up! You call yourself a Buddhist! That amulet you rubbed in your hands means nothing to you! It’s just a good luck charm for your own selfish purposes! You have no desire to live an honorable life. You have killed so many.”

“Be quiet Ukon! I hear voices coming up the path.”

              

The 26 Martyrs of Nagasaki

Jan and I walked up a steep hill and came to the spot where 26 Christians were martyred for their faith. I was sobered by their testimonies and challenged deeply in my spirit. It happened almost 420 years ago, but their faith and perseverance still shouts from the past. It's true. The blood of the martyrs is seed for revival. They did not shed their blood in vain. The land of the rising sun will truly become the land of the Rising Son.

The Battle of Nagashino

Oda Nobunaga, the first of Japan's great unifiers, was considered your typical country samurai, rough and provincial. This was a fatal mistake made by his enemies. Behind the simpleton facade, stood a very innovative and cunning leader.

The battle of Nagashino showed his tactical genius for combat. The Takeda army was laying siege to Nagashino castle when Oda Nobunaga and Tokugawa Ieyasu sent reinforcements to support the embattled defenders. The Oda/Tokugawa forces now numbered 38,000 troops, while the Takeda only had 12,000. Still, Takeda Katsuyori decided to send a cavalry charge against the Oda defensive line because he felt they would break under a massive charge. The Takeda were known for their horsemanship and cavalry. Every army in Japan feared the Takeda mounted samurai. They never lost.

Oda Nobunaga constructed a massive defensive line of wooden stockades and stationed 1500 arquebusiers with matchlock guns to man this position. He also had pike men and samurai stationed behind the gunners to cut down any cavalry that made it through the defensive works.

It had been raining earlier, so Katsuyori decided the matchlock guns would be useless. The distance between the two opposing forces totaled only 200-400 meters. The Takeda always won. There was no way the enemy could reload that quickly. He ordered the charge.

The bold offensive strike was doomed from the start. Not only did they have to cross a stream, but they had to climb a steep embankment before they could charge. As the cavalry made it over the rise, the gunners fired into their ranks (the rain had no effect). Nobunaga also set up a system of rotating volleys that continually poured rounds of fire into the attacking force without a break. He also strenghthened his flanks so the cavalry couldn't roll up his defensive position from the sides.

At the end of the day, the famed horsemen from Kai were repulsed and soundly defeated. Over one thousand cavalry men were shot down and two thousand more killed during the ensuing retreat. The Takeda never rose again from this massacre. The Battle of Nagashino was a turning point in samurai battlefield strategy as well as in the whole course of a nation. The old guard was giving way to the new.

War always sets the stage for the proud to fall. The Bible states, "Pride goes before the fall." Even with the numbers and terrain stacked against him, Katsuyori stilled ordered the attack. Most military strategists counsel that you need three times the size of the defending force to even think of mounting an assault.

The ranks of many Christians are falling in droves to the sin of pride. They launch out impetuously without taking stock of their strengths or if God is leading them in their pursuit of misguided goals. Boldness is good, but disciplined obedience is better.

The Takeda clan was finally exterminated at the battle of Temmokuzan. You could say pride destroyed them.

The Battle of Sekigahara

The fateful day arrived. The forces of Ishida Mitsunari and Tokugawa Ieyasu stared each other down with only one mile of muddy ground separating their sharpened spears. Mitsunari represented the loyalist western army (81,000) supporting the late regent, Toyotomi Hideyoshi.

Tokugawa Ieyasu represented the eastern army (88,000) of daimyo loyal to the Tokugawa and hateful of Mitsunari's underhanded ways. This was going to be the last great battle of the bloody Sengoku period that saw clan after clan vying for power.

From the start of the battle, Tokugawa Ieyasu placed himself and his armies in a very weak position. He did not have the high ground and his retreat route was covered by enemy forces. He was trapped. Military strategists, to this day, shake their heads at the mistake made by this astute leader.

Mitsunari, on the otherhand, had the high ground and a clear route of retreat. Maybe this was why he lost? With all their bridges burned, the desperate Tokugawa warriors fought with all their reserves. They held nothing back. Maybe this was Ieyasu's strategy? Who knows? People still question why General Lee ordered his men into a meat grinder at Gettysburg. Tokugawa's reasons are also still debated today.

The night fog burned away with the morning sun and Mitsunari realized the battle belonged to him. He would be supreme commander of Japan by day's end.

The fighting commenced with Ii Naomasa's red armored troops leading a vanguard attack against the western army's front line. These shock troops were renowned throughout Japan as Tokugawa's best fighting force. They cut a swath deep into the enemy lines with their initial cavalry charge and paved the way for advancing infantry.

The first hours of the battle saw both armies taking and retaking ground. Blood, mud, fierce hand-to-hand combat characterized the struggle. No one seemed to gain the upper hand, until an unforeseen predicament occurred on the western side, mass defections. About a third of the western army defected to the Tokugawa. This turned the tide.

Mitsunari had only one option, retreat. The remains of his massive army turned on their heels and retreated in confusion. Tokugawa Ieyasu and his army carried the day. Even with victory in his grasp, he shouted the command, "Victory is ours, but tighten your helmet straps." These words of caution in the midst of victory became a famous quote passed down to all Japanese school children.

Mitsunari was eventually captured and marched through Kyoto and beheaded. Toyotomi Hideyori, the remainig heir of Hideyoshi, mounted a final rebellion and eventually committed seppuku within the flames of Osaka castle. This sealed the fate of the Toyotomi and consolidated Tokugawa rule for the next two hundred and fifty years.

In hindsight, the battle was already won by Tokugagwa Ieyasu even before the first sword was drawn. The eastern forces were supremely loyal to Tokugawa Ieyasu and orders were unquestioningly obeyed. Mitsunari was a politician trying to lead a loosely held confederation of disgruntled daimyo. His orders on the battlefield were continually rebuffed by more seasoned warriors who considered Mitsunari unfit as a military commander. They actually disliked him, but hated Ieyasu more.

This love-hate relationship between politicians and warriors was and is still very common. Mitsunari had no chance against the superior leadership abilities of Ieyasu. He exuded confidence and commanded the respect of all his troops. Unity, character, and good battle field strategy eventually led to victory on that day. Even the western turn coats, who sided with Ieyasu, realized Mitsunari lacked the character and strength to rule Japan. They saw the writing on the wall. Maybe Ieyasu saw this happening before the battle. Whatever the case, he took a gamble with his initial battle tactics and won.

Sun Tzu had a favorite quote, "Victorious warriors win the battle before they fight. Defeated warriors fight and then try to win battle." It's like discipleship. We also need to count the cost before we choose to follow Jesus. The cost is high, but the fruit of victory filled with the eternal weight of glory. Many fall away, but for the few that stay the course, we will the hear the words, "Well done, good and faithful servant." Gokurosama deshita!

The Escape-continued

A bald acolyte opened the door and to his astonishment found a huge mountain of a man crumpled on the steps. He ran and called the head abbot.

It took four monks to finally drag his big frame into the alcove. “Where did he come from? What clan is he from? He looks like….. ” The monks conversed with one another. Tsutomu let out a deep moan, “Please hide me. They will come.” He tried to stand, but everything started to spin around. He felt his legs go limp and he collapsed into darkness.

He woke up with the sunlight streaming through a small window and the sound of cicadas screaming out their summer symphony. He felt bone tired and sore all over. The battle yesterday was a blur. He remembered the enemy streaming down from all sides of the mountain, his fellow samurai overwhelmed by spears, his Lord cut down by a wave of calvary, and him swinging his sword like a mad man. “How did I get away? I must have killed at least fifty men before I felt that arrow hit my shoulder. The force threw me off the cliff into a bamboo grove. I climbed and climbed. I only heard one word, live!”

There came a knock on the small trap door leading to the cellar. A smallish man with fox-like eyes peeked his head through the door and climbed down the ladder with a tray of hot rice, takuan, natto, and a stone kettle of tea. He bowed and placed the food in front of Tsutomu. He immediately grabbed the bowl and shoveled the hot, steaming rice and soy beans into his mouth like a ravenous wolf. In between mouthfuls he crunched on pickled turnips and gulped down the green tea. He looked up at the monk and mumbled, “Thank you.”

“What is your name?” replied the monk.

“My name is Amekura.” He spoke with rice spilling out of his mouth. “You were lucky to get away. They came by last night asking if we saw a wounded samurai come this way. They were very angry.” Tsutomu stopped chewing and smirked at his luck. He reached into his pocket and squeezed a bronze image of the Buddha his mother gave him twenty years ago. He looked at its weathered features and remembered all the times he rubbed it out of nervousness before a big battle.

The monk sat amused watching this big samurai squeeze his amulet like a little child. “Thank you for hiding me. I don’t know when I can come back to repay you, but I will some day.” The monk scooped more rice into his bowl and passed it back to him. “Did you know that you have cuts all over your body? It’s amazing that none of them penetrated deep enough to cut a vein or vital organ. Buddha was definitely watching over you.”

He slurped down the last grains of rice with hot tea and collapsed back onto the hard maple floors. Looking up at the ceiling he asked, “Can I stay here until I heal up? I just need to regain a little more strength.”

“You can stay here only under one condition” said the monk. “What is that?” “You have to shave your head and put on a robe. We cannot risk having someone find you.” Tsutomu laughed out loud at the thought of becoming a monk, even for a short time. If only his friends could see him now. They would all die of laughter at the thought of Tsutomu, the warrior, becoming a monk. “If only this monk knew?” thought Tsutomu.

“I will put on whatever you want and shave my head if I can stay a few more days in your monastery.” It was the monk’s turn to laugh as he refilled his tea cup. This made Tsutomu feel a little uneasy. As a warrior you always try to notice the slightest change in another person’s demeanor or words. He then waved it off as nothing and immediately fell back to sleep.

When he awoke, he found himself in another room and in a monk’s robe. His hair was completely shaved off and he felt drowsy as if drugged. “Who are these people?” thought Tsutomu. “Hey, monk! Where are you? What is the meaning of this? ” He soon heard footsteps and then from the top of the roof a wooden peep hole opened up and the same monk smiled down at him. “Are you feeling better? We took the liberty of dressing your wounds and cleaning you up. Do you like your new room?”

“This is not a room, but a jail cell you little rat. What did you put into my tea?” “Now, now, you’re still healing up. Don’t get all worked up. We are doing this for your own good.” “What do you mean my own good? What type of monks are you?” shouted Tsutomu.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” “We know who you are. You are the mighty Tsutomu Amekura of the Oda clan. We know you have killed many with your sword. Buddha brought you to us for the purpose of extinguishing your life. We cannot let you go on killing and bringing war to this world. You must be executed. Pray the sutras and prepare to die.”

“I will rip your head off, you little worm. I could crush you with one hand! You call yourselves monks!” He tried to jump up and grab the face of the monk. “By the way, my name is Ukon, and I will take care of you during your stay.”

“Let me out now you lying dogs! Where are my sword and things?”

“You will get them back in paradise” laughed Ukon. He then shut the peep hole and scurried away. The sound of many sliding doors placed him some where deep in the bowels of the temple.

Tsutomu threw himself at the hard oak walls of the room. The walls never rattled once as he kicked, punched, and threw his immense body at every side. After one hour of trying he finally gave up. “I must think. There must be a way out. ”

Takeda Shingen, the Lord of Kai

We were rambling along in our Mira (the Japanese version of the Mini-Cooper) and entering the city of Kofu. I dragged two Shizuoka University students along with me on my quest to find the remains of Takeda Shingen's empire. My friends were amused that this Potagee/Hawaiian was so interested in Japanese history. They felt an obligation to accompany me on this odyssey because they feared I would get lost in the mountains of Kofu. I was a mixture of crazed historian and Christian missionary in their eyes. A good combination if you ask me.

We finally got to the heart of Kofu and the remains of Shingen's castle. All that was left was the stone foundations of the former fortification. The wooden structure was burned to the ground by Tokugawa Ieyasu after the battle of Temmokuzan. The Takeda clan ceased to exist after this engagement.

I was saddened that such an illustrious house experienced complete annihilation. As I remembered the stone foundations I realized the only kingdom that will last is the Kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. His kingdom will become the highest mountain or empire in the universe (Isaiah 2). All will go the way of the Takeda and other earthly kingdoms. They will be swept away by the power of heaven. Hallelujah!!!

During the 16th century Kofu was called Kai. It was known as the domain of Takeda Shingen, the most feared war lord in all of Japan. His fierce warriors and soldiering skills crushed his adversaries and gave him the reputation, the tiger of Kai. Like Napoleon, Takeda Shingen relied heavily on mass cavalry charges. He would literally run through his enemy lines. His war banner captured the dominating spirit of his army, Fu-Rin-Ka Zan (wind, forest, fire, mountain). He trained his army to be swift as the wind, silent as a forest, fierce as a fire, and immovable like a mountain. They were unstopppable.

They finally met defeat under the command of his hot headed son, Takeda Katsuyori. He ordered a frontal assault against Oda Nobunaga's (another famous war lord) line of defense. What he didn't know was that the Oda line bristled with matchlock guns. They decimated the once proud cavalry with volley after volley of gunfire. This marked the beginning of the end for the Takeda clan.

Proverbs states, "Pride goes before destruction." Takeda Katsuyori and many other arrogant leaders followed this same foolish path.

Pridefulness destroys many before their prime. 1 Peter 5:5-6 states, "Young men be submissive to those who are older. clothe yourself with humility toward one another, for God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may lift you up in due time." Good words for those who want longevity in their service for God.

My time in Kofu was both interesting and sobering. We made it a point to buy some peaches before we came home. The Kofu peach is world famous. Did you ever eat a peach that exploded in your mouth with juicy sweetness? The liquid from the fruit literally dripped down the side of mouth as I bit into it. It was the best. God is good. He wants the best for us. He wants us to produce good fruit.

Bushido and Christianity

Are they complimentary? The simple answer is no. One is steeped in pride and the other in love. Many have written books trying to amalgamate the two, but you can only take the similarities so far.

Yet, the emphasis on honor, loyalty, frugality, and courage strengthened generations of young men in the land of the rising sun. It made the Samurai the ultimate fighting machine because of their willingness to commit unto death. That is why Truman decided to drop the atomic bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. He knew the Japanese would fight unto the death and inflict a tremendous toll on the allies. Millions would have died. The Bushido Code would have caused the complete annihilation of a nation too. Thank God cooler and saner heads prevailed when the Japanese finally surrendered in the face of inevitable destruction. Today, they set the standard on how a nation can rise from the ashes and become an economic juggernaut. They transferred their martialistic energies toward business. The modern day samurai is now dressed in a business suit and carries a brief case. They show their honor by working long hours at their company, sacrificing all for its success.

The ultimate act of honor for the medieval warrior was to commit seppuku or self immolation. The samurai would take a short sword and slit open his stomach. The pain was so unbearable that he asked a friend or fellow samurai to chop off his head. This was a way for a samurai to retain his honor and even increase his stock despite the shame of defeat.

Thank goodness Jesus died on the cross so that we don't have to kill ourselves to hold on to this imaginary honor. Jesus' death bestowed on us righteousness, sanctification, and redemption (1 Cor 1:30). He poured the honor of forgiveness and holy perfection on our lives through his death.

Seppuku is the ultimate form of self effort or pride to gain right standing in the eyes of the warrior class. Bushido actually breeds a culture of death. Today, the Japanese are at the top of the list, or near the top, when it comes to suicide. It's tragic.

I honor the Japanese culture and history. I value loyalty, courage, frugality, honesty, and other qualities inculcated by Bushido, but the same can be had and more through Christ Jesus our Lord. He is the ultimate Daimyo (Lord). All praise, glory, and honor belong to Him.

The Escape

“Kill the dog if you find him!” The red armored ashigaru went scurrying back and forth through the thrush trying to find Tsutomu. “I swear I struck him with my arrow!” shouted one of the mounted samurai. “He must be somewhere near. He could not have gotten very far.”

Tsutomu whispered, “ Trot my way and I will strike your pompous head off.” He gripped his katana with a grimace that revealed the pain exploding throughout his body. The arrow struck him in the right shoulder between the armor plating. The shock threw him to the ground.

He slowly climbed higher and higher away from the blood thirsty voices of his enemy. The cypress trees canopying the mountain became his big brother shielding him from the wolf pack. “I just want to lie down and sleep. The cool moss feels so good. No, I must continue to climb higher and higher. I must live.”

“Tsutomu, you cowardly dog come out and fight! Die like a real samurai!”
“And you are?” thought Tsutomu. “You will all die by the edge of my blade for your treachery.” The predatory growls grew fainter as he slowly ascended the misty Yamagata mountains. “Thank you Buddha for having mercy on me.”

He pulled himself up over slippery rock and muddy path. He stumbled higher and higher into the mist. “Is that the sound of a stream?” The song of water caused him to forget all caution. He ran and threw himself into the foamy torrent. The smooth pebbles of the streambed felt cool and clean as he lapped water into his dry mouth. He tore a patch of watercress from the crevice of a rock and crunched on its peppery leaves for nourishment. “I need real food. They will search here. I need to keep moving.”

He reached over his back and with one quick pull, ripped the arrow from his shoulder. He muffled his groan. “Why didn’t my armor stop this damn arrow? Why wear this stupid, heavy thing anyway? It doesn’t work!” Staggering to his feet, he moved slowly up the stream. The finches flitted over his head as he went deeper and deeper into the mountain forest. Bamboo groves, here and there, provided a natural palisade against the harsh mountain wind that swept over this region. They rustled and whistled in the blustery weather.

Pushing aside brush and branches, he refrained from chopping anything with his katana. His stealth training as a ninja proved useful in evading search parties. “The less I touch, the less they’ll find.” He discovered some healing herbs under a red pine tree, chewed it, and placed the regurgitated mixture right on his open wound. It stung.

The sun had set a long time ago and fatigue began to get the best of him. “Is that a temple up ahead? Yes, it is!” With his katana dragging in the weeds, he made for the dim light coming from one of the windows. He heard chanting and smelled the incense. He crawled up the cold, stone steps and banged on the weather beaten door.