In the last years of Bishop Nicholas (Kasatkin)’s service in Japan, the attitude towards the Mission and the Japanese Orthodox Church became extremely respectful. Archpriest John Vostorgov, the future hieromartyr, who visited Japan in 1909, testified: "There was no person in Japan, after the emperor, who would have enjoyed such fame in the country as the head of the Russian Spiritual Mission. In the capital of Japan, there was no need to ask where the Russian Orthodox Mission was; it was enough to say one word 'Nikolai'... Even Orthodoxy itself was called by the name 'Nikolai'."
Even the pagans treated Saint Nicholas with great favour and sincere sympathy. One could often observe the following picture: a tall, heroically built Vladyka was walking along the streets of Tokyo with a swift step. Seeing him, the townspeople, complete strangers to him, greet him with noisy delight shouting: "Banzai Nikolai." And cute Japanese children surround him with a ring, rushing headlong towards him, like butterflies to a fire.
...At the end of 1897, to the great joy of Bishop Nicholas, two people finally arrived from Russia to Japan at once — Archimandrite Sergius (Stragorodsky) and Hieromonk Andronik (Nikolsky).
On December 31, Saint Nicholas writes in his diary: This ends the old year. It gave the Mission two missionaries: Father Archimandrite Sergius and Father Andronik. The people seem to be exactly the ones I have prayed for, for whom I have always waited: ones looking only at the matter at hand, and looking simply, clearly, humbly and maturely. There are no stilts, nor the slightest idealism that threatens disappointment, is noticeable at them. ...God give! God give! They should grow, I would pray."
About his arrival at the Mission and meeting Bishop Nicholas, Father Andronik (the future Archbishop of Perm, hieromartyr) left valuable notes in his diary that vividly characterize the Vladyka: "The Most Reverend Nicholas was very happy about our arrival and, due to his generally lively character, immediately spoke to us. <...> He immediately led us throughout the Mission, taking us to church, to the library, and so on. And all this quickly — on a run. In general, the Vladyka is very lively, as if he was still a very young man, zealous and energetic, in the age of 27–30, while he is already 62 years old. <...> The Bishop himself is in charge of the entire Mission, he understands everything, knows everything... And how does he have enough energy and time for everything?! He is all about embodied energy and keen interest in everything. And he speaks about everything vividly, with enthusiasm, as if it were his own native business, and most importantly, his word and view of everything are filled with the most living, integral faith in the cause and in the Orthodox Church as the only true custodian of the gift of Christ's Gospel. 'We,' says the Vladyka, 'are servants of the Mother Church, the only true one, and it is our holy duty to loudly and incessantly proclaim the truth of Christ.'"
Alas, the arriving assistants worked at the Mission for just over a year — in 1899 both left Japan: Archimandrite Sergius received another assignment, and Hieromonk Andronik became seriously ill. It is interesting that, as if foreseeing this in advance, Father Andronik wrote in his diary almost immediately upon his arrival in Japan: "And I feel sorry for him, poor creature: as if he always alone and was, and is, and will be, and we are all somehow temporary workers being constantly ready to run away, either by quarreling with him or by falling ill."
Missionaries arriving from Russia could not withstand the difficulties of mastering the Japanese language, miserable working conditions, difficult humid climate, and unusual features of local life. They were overwhelmed by an irresistible longing for their homeland, called nostalgia, driving others to the point of insanity.
Having no reliable assistants, the Bishop carried out all the affairs on himself: he was in charge of the Mission, was the director of all its theological schools, and he himself taught a number of disciplines in them, performed divine services, preached, toured parishes scattered throughout the country, did translations, wrote scientific works, edited magazine articles and so on and so forth. And he managed to do it! Things in the Mission were steadily going uphill.
In 1896, Bishop Nicholas wrote to the Holy Synod about the state of affairs in comparison with foreign missions. If the Catholics, with 205 members of the mission, have a Japanese flock of 52 thousand Christians, the Protestants, with 680 missionaries, have 38 thousand, then the Orthodox, with one missionary, have 23 thousand Christians.
At the same time, the Vladyka was by no means inclined to attribute the successes of the Mission to himself. "What is the reason for the success of the Mission?" he said. "The reason is the sincerity of Orthodoxy and in God's help. The Lord favours His young planting of the Orthodox Church among the Japanese people. And in granting its success He shows undeniable signs of His favour."
Asthma scratched the head's back and calmed down
At the end of 1911, Bishop Nicholas became seriously ill. He was choked by asthma, at night he suffocated and could not sleep. Bishop Sergius (Tikhomirov) observed with contrition what severe physical suffering the sick Vladyka had to endure. But even now the saint did not allow himself to become despondent and often resorted to saving humour. Once, for example, he wrote to His Eminence Sergius, who was away, the following: "My asthma asked me twice: 'What, shouldn't we sing a funeral service With the saints?' But I answered it: 'It's impossible: and Subdeacon Kawamura is not here, he left to repair the leaking roof, and the Right Reverend is not there.' It scratched the head's back and calmed down."
For everyone who knew and loved the bishop, days of sadness and sorrowful forebodings came. Bishop Sergius, having escorted the saint to the hospital, wrote in his diary: "Vladyka left, as if the red sun had gone away. Everyone walks cloudy, like on an autumn day in St. Petersburg."
Knowing that he was dying, the head of the Japanese Orthodox Church once said to his successor: "Our role is no higher than a plough. So the peasant ploughed, the plough wore out, and he threw it away. I'm worn out too. And they'll throw me away. The new plough will begin to plough. So look, plough! Plough honestly! Plough tirelessly! Let God's work grow!" He paused thoughtfully and added: "Still, it's nice that it was God Who ploughed by you. That means you haven't rusted either. This means that by working in God's field, your soul has also become somewhat purified, and for this we will always thank God."
In those sad days, he once said thoughtfully: "Oh, really, it's very interesting what and how it is there in heaven... I'll soon find out everything. And in this regard, I'm much happier than you."
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