Author: John D. (Page 122 of 202)

‘Shrine girls’

 The Japan News carried yesterday an article on shrine visits by Japanese females from its parent paper, The Yomiuri Shimbun.  It’s about the popularity of young women visiting shrines ~ a phenomenon that anyone will be aware of who has ever visited a shrine known for enmusubi  (love connections).  Izumo Taisha, incidentally, has the biggest enmusubi reputation in Japan, which may just explain why it features in the article so strongly…

******************************************************************

Illustrations of cute monkeys are printed on goshuin-cho notebooks from Tokyo’s Hie Shrine. (photo copyright Yomiuri Shimbun)

‘Shrine girls’ on the increase    The Yomiuri Shimbun January 1, 2014

Visiting shrines has become popular among young women recently, apparently because sengu, or rare events of reconstruction or repair of facilities at major shrines, were carried out last year at the Ise Grand Shrines in Ise, Mie Prefecture, and Izumo Taisha grand shrines in Izumo, Shimane Prefecture.

A 33-year-old company employee in Tokyo’s Shibuya Ward said, “Recently, visiting shrines has become my hobby.”

She visited Hikawa Shrine in Saitama’s Omiya Ward with a female friend in late December. “We visited the shrine after we learned on the Internet that it has an approach about two kilometers long lined with keyaki zelkova trees,” she said.

The woman became interested in shrines through reading women’s magazines and watching TV programs that featured the sengu events of the Ise and Izumo grand shrines. “I think oral traditions about gods are interesting. When I go to a shrine, I draw a paper fortune or buy a cute omamori lucky charm,” she said.

Members of Jinja Garuzu Kenkyukai listen to a priest talk about the history of Saka Shrine in Izumo, Shimane Prefecture. (copyright Yomiuri Shimbun)

Shrine girls study society
Women’s clubs that focus on visiting shrines have been organized. Jinja Garuzu Kenkyukai (Shrine girls’ study society), launched two years ago, has about 50 female members in their 20s to 60s in Shimane and Tottori prefectures. Its members’ occupations are varied, including homemakers and restaurant workers. Members visit shrines in the Sanin region once a month or so.

Michi Kono, 36, a freelance announcer who founded the circle, said: “It’s easier to ask questions about a shrine’s festival or other events to a priest in a group rather than when visiting as an individual. It’s also enjoyable to have a meal together, talking about our impressions after visiting shrines.”

Commercial excursions to shrines have also found a following. Hato Bus Co., a major sightseeing bus tour firm, started a ladies-only tour of Hakone and Kuzuryu shrines in Kanagawa Prefecture in February 2012. The tour is limited to about 40 people, but each tour almost reaches capacity. Many participants are in their 20s and 30s, according to the Tokyo-based bus company.

When Rakuten Travel, which runs a travel website, checked the reservation status of domestic trips during the New Year’s holidays from Dec. 28 through Jan. 5, Izumo Taisha was the most popular destination for women’s groups. The number of female visitors to the shrine more than doubled from the same period a year earlier, according to Rakuten Travel.

Shrines make a point of appealing to Japanese females' sense of cuteness

Hie Shrine in Tokyo created some new goshuin-cho notebooks, mainly targeting female visitors with illustrations of cute monkeys. A goshuin-cho is a notebook for collecting red seals (goshuin) from shrines as proof of having visited.

Shrine expert Akiko Misu, author of Kawaii Goshuin Meguri (Tours of cute goshuin seals), said: “Goshuin really vary from one shrine to another. A collection of goshuin seals will spark good memories of the visits when you check them later.”

“You can feel relaxed when you visit shrines, as many have spacious areas and a lot of greenery. Shrines have been drawing attention as healing places apart from everyday life,” added Misu, 38.

Some of the greenery at Kyoto's popular Shimogamo Jinja, where an emusubi shrine has been beautified in recent years and a tea pavilion for visitors provided in the woods

New Year beginnings

The New Year good fortune arrow symbolically kills off evil, ensuring you can hit your targets for the coming year

Syncretic celebration

The way Shinto and Buddhism complement each other is never more clearly seen than on the night of Dec. 31. Buddhism is other-worldly, concerned with individual salvation.  Shinto is this-worldly, concerned with rites of passage and social well-being.  At New Year the two religions come together like yin and yang, either side of midnight.  Buddhism sees out the death of the old; Shinto celebrates the birth of the new.

In the dying minutes of the year, people line up at a Buddhist temple to hear the bell riing, or to ring it themselves. By tradition it is rung 108 times, once for every attachment that plagues the human condition.  The atmosphere is solemn, and in the darkness the booming of the large bell carries with it a mournful feel.

New Year fortune arrow to dispel negativity and help you hit your new year’s target
Afterwards, by way of contrast, it’s fun to head straight for a shrine to pick up arrow and amulets for protection through the coming year. Following the contemplative pre-midnight atmosphere comes the a celebratory mood. Suddenly there are laughing voices, bright kimono, and gaudy lights.  Stalls with aspiring yakuza sell candy floss and goldfish.  Here all is jollity and smiles.

‘Akemashite omedeto’ (Congratulations on the New Year) is heard on every side, as people toss coins into offertory boxes over the heads of those in front.  Hot saké is served spiced with ginger.  Young women in kimono stand huddled over their fortune slips. With the blessing of the kami, the Year of the Dragon will surely turn out to be a good one.

Traditions and customs

Boxed delights - osechi ryori is colourful, delicious, and symbolic

New Year is a time of special food too – osechi ryori – beautifully displayed in lunch boxes as only the Japanese can do.  The custom originated with the Heian aristocracy, for whom New Year’s Day was one of the five seasonal festivals.  Since it was taboo to cook during the three day event, food was prepared beforehand.

The New Year food is a feast for the eyes as much as the stomach, full of symbols and auspicious elements. There’s tai fish to signify ‘medetai’ (congratulations), and black beans as a wish for good health (mame can mean bean and health).  Broiled fish cake (kamaboko) is laid out in red and white layers, traditional colours of celebration and suggestive of the rising sun.

Although the first shrine visit of the year (hatsumode) is supposed to be done within the first three days of the year, people pay respects for several days afterwards.  Each year has its own auspicious direction, calculated by Chinese astrology, and one’s supposed to visit the shrine that lies in that direction though few actually follow the convention.  It seems the majority of Japanese visit a shrine at some point, though attendance is difficult to interpret since some people may visit two or more shrines.

Numbers are eagerly collected, as if like GDP they reflect the well-being of the nation.  Meiji Jingu tops the rankings, with just over three million visitors (who counts them, one wonders).  In the Kansai region Fushimi Inari comes top with over two and a half million – one reason why I’ve never dared visit it at New Year, much as I love the place.

Dreaming of sacred Mt Fuji on the first night of the year is particularly auspicious

From now on the New Year is all about firstness and freshness.  There’s the first dream of the year, which if it is about Mt Fuji, a hawk or an aubergine (!) is held to be particularly auspicious.  There’s the first snowfall, the first sign of spring, and the year’s first haiku…

A new year dawning:
First snow upon the mountains
Forming a fresh sheet

One interesting custom is the giving of money to children, known as toshidama. Toshi is the year, and dama is its soul or spirit – so it’s as if one is renewing the spirit of the year through the gift.  No doubt the money helps give extra vigour to the young!
Decorations

The traditional decoration is a length of shimenawa (sacred rice rope), festooned with ferns and the stem of a bitter orange, which is hung on the door.   The fern is an evergreen and a symbol of the lifeforce, while the bitter orange is called daidai, which can also mean ‘generation to generation’.  It shows the continuing vitality of the household.

It’s customary at this time of year to have steamed rice cake (mochi). This was traditionally done by pounding it by hand and eating fresh, but nowadays supermarkets are filled with plastic packages containing two circular rice cakes on top of each other surmounted by a bitter orange.

Kagami mochi (mirror rice cakes) - something to chew on for the New Year

Rice is a symbol of fertility, and the mochi cakes symbolise renewal of vitality through the eating of rice. Circular cakes are known as kagami mochi (mirror rice cakes). According to tradition, the sun-goddess Amaterasu presented her grandson with a circular mirror and told him to treat it as if it were her very self.  It’s why mirrors are often used in shrines as the sacred ‘spirit-body’ of the kami.  In this sense partaking of the round mochi is a kind of sacrament, the Japanese equivalent of communion. 

The prime symbol of the New Year are the kadomatsu decorations seen in front of stores and large buildings. These can be grandiose affairs, and consist of three upright pieces of bamboo of differing length to represent the Taoist triad of heaven, earth and human.

Pine and plum branches complete the arrangement – pine not only as a symbol of constancy and vitality, but because the needles ward off evil spirits.  The plum symbolises the promise of spring (before cherry blossom, the plum was Japan’s favourite tree for its early flowering amidst the austerity of winter.)  Bamboo stands for persistence, a much admired trait among Japanese.

Typical Kadomatsu decorations - they vary in size and also by region (courtesy umeGreen)

 

A New Year decoration style in Kyushu

Happy year of the horse

2013 seemed to just shoot by!

 

New Year is an important and symbolic time of revitalisation.  Renewal is of the essence to Shinto, and here is a prime example.  The last few days of the old year offer an opportunity to clean up and clear up.  Settle debts, do the osoji (big cleaning), and make sure the emotional clutter of the past is dealt with.  Then at New Year, purified and pristine, one can start out with fresh resolve…

White horse statue at Fushimi Inari is a symbolic mount for a symbolic kami

And this year could be a wild ride, for it’s the year of the horse.  For Shinto, horses play a vital part as the mount of the kami that mediates between this world and the other.  That’s why you find horse archery put on at shrines, horse picture plaques hung for prayers (ema), even real horses  at some shrines.

(Twelve shrines still keep the old tradition of maintaining a real horse, including Ise Jingu and Kamigamo Shrine here in Kyoto. Because of the expense other shrines have dispensed with them, or have statues instead.)

To the people of ancient times, horses were symbols of power, ridden by the ruling classes, to which mysterious qualities were ascribed.  Think of winged Pegasus, able not just to gallop at speeds beyond human understanding but to fly to unseen worlds. Horses can make dreams come true.

May all the readers of Green Shinto have happy rides throughout 2014!

***********************************************************************************

From Mark Schuhmacher’s onmark Encyclopedia of Japanese Religions

All dressed up and ready for spirits to ride

THE HORSE, PARTICULARLY THE WHITE HORSE, is a sacred animal in Japanese Shintō traditions. Local deities (kami) are believed to ride horses between this world and the sacred realm, and hence the horse represents the connection between earth and heaven. In olden times, the ruling elite would present real horses to Shintō shrines when making a vow or entreaty, for the animal was considered an auspicious messenger of the gods. The text Shoku Nihongi (compiled in 797 AD) mentions that white horses were dedicated to shrines when praying for rain to end, while black horses were presented when praying for rain to fall. The white horse is considered the sacred mount of Amaterasu (Japan’s supreme sun goddess) and even today various shrines dedicated to Amaterasu keep a white horse in their stables. White is the color of purity and as such is treasured by Shintō.  There is also the belief that fine horses are the offspring of dragons and other water gods. The tradition of offering real horses to Shintō shrines was beyond the means of most people, but over the centuries, small wooden horse statues and pictorial votive tablets known as EMA 絵馬 (lit. “horse pictures”) were presented as substitutes for the real animal.  Today, during the annual Tanabata festival on July 7, a small welcoming horse (mukae-uma 迎 馬) is hung from gates and trees to be offered as a mount for the visiting deity. Horse effigies are also offered to ancestral spirits during the Obon festival.

Ema started out as large horse-pictures donated to shrines in place of actual horses, which were too expensive to maintain. In time the large pictures, only affordable by the rich, became smaller and accessible to everyone. The pictures changed from horses to images relevant to the local traditions of the shrine. Thus e-ma (picture horse) became an open prayer to the kami, expressing people's private hopes. Sometimes they make interesting reading!

 

Pagan Pasts 8): Meiji invention

This is the final part of a series comparing the Pagan traditions in Japan and Britain.  The previous post looked at the invention of Wicca and the growth of Neo-paganism in Britain in modern times.  Now we turn to the reforms to Shinto made by the Meiji government after 1868.  (For previous parts in the series, please search under the Paganism category to the right.)

*******************************************************************************************************

Buddhist supremacy

In the nineteenth century the situation in Britain and Japan had certain similarities, in that a dominant axial religion had incorporated popular folk elements.  Buddhism was not only the official religion of Tokugawa Japan but an important part of state control, since everybody had to be registered with a temple.  Shinto, in the words of Helen Hardacre, was ‘a mere appendage’.  There were localised cults with independent lineages, but there was no central authority.  Moreover, there was no unified training of priests.  Indeed, there were precious few ‘Shinto priests’ (perhaps just 5%), since the vast majority of kami worship was conducted by Buddhist monks, Shugendo practitioners, shamans, or village elders. (17)

The Tokugawa regime privileged Buddhism to such an extent that even Shinto priests had to register with Buddhist temples.  Most of the shrines too were under Buddhist control, and larger shrines were part of syncretic complexes known as miyadera run by Buddhist priests.  Even the few independent institutions such as Ise and Izumo had close Buddhist connections, and Hardacre states that in Ise there were a scarcely credible 300 temples.  Although the influential Yoshida Shrine in Kyoto operated a licensing system, there was no unified training system or common form of ritual.  In an institutional sense, says Hardacre in Shinto and the State 1868-1988, Shinto did not exist before 1868.

The forerunners of modern Shinto were the Nativists of Edo times, referred to in Japan as part of the Kokugaku movement.  They emerged out of Confucian study of the past and held that Japanese roots had a distinctive difference from those of China.  Driven by thinkers such as Kamo no Mabuchi and Norinaga Motoori, a way of thinking emerged that maintained Japan was superior to China, that the emperor should have supreme authority, and that the worship of kami was Japan’s true religion.

Motoori Norinaga and his disciples of the Kokugaku school (source unknown)

Motoori Norinaga was particularly influential in asserting the supremacy of Japan, driven by a loathing of the Chinese and their rationality.  By contrast, the Japanese were held up as intuitive, harmonious, and naturally virtuous.  Moreover, they had an unbroken imperial line which was descended from the gods, proving their divinity.

According to Norinaga, the emperor would by rights be revered by the populace at large, as in the mythical past, but the authority of the emperor had been usurped by military shoguns. This had led to neglect and impoverished conditions for the imperial family.  In this way an ideology was conveniently at hand for the Restoration movement of the 1860s, which under the guise of returning power to the emperor sought to overthrow a dysfunctional shogunate.

The Re-forming of  Shinto

When the Restorationists came to power, they drew on the ideas of Kokugaku to foster an emperor-centred state.  To boost the political restructuring of the nation, they sought an ideology and turned to the idea of a state-sponsored religion.  In this they were inspired by the role of Christianity in the West, which in Britain had given enthusiastic support to the civilising role of colonisation in spreading the word of God to the unenlightened and illiterate.

The new state religion was promoted as a conscious rejection of the previous Tokugawa Buddhism, and the enforced split of the two religions was far from amicable.  In some cases the elements had to be forcibly torn apart.  Complicating elements such as Shugendo were dealt with ruthlessly by being banned in 1872, and its adherents forced to choose between Shinto and Buddhism. (The ban was only lifted in 1947.)

Shugendo was abolished by the Meiji reformers, and followers forced to choose between Buddhism and Shinto

The ‘construction’ of the new state religion is covered in detail in Hardacre’s Shinto and the State 1868-1988. Published in 1989, it was written by a professor at Griffith University in Australia (now Reischauer Professor of Japanese Religions and Society at Harvard). The book shows how one of the key objectives of the Meiji reformers was to bolster the authority of Ise, and thus the emperor, and thereby those who ran the state in his name.  Ise was seen as the seat of the primal ancestor, Amaterasu no okami, who had supposedly founded the imperial lineage.  It was thus the emperor’s ancestral shrine, and the young Emperor Meiji made a point of going to visit it, the first of his family to do so since the supposed visit of Empress Jito in the seventh century.

To emphasise the supremacy of the emperor in the new scheme of things, shrines were ranked in a hierarchy with Ise at the apex.  In addition, 70 Daijingu, or Kotai Jingu, were established as branches of Ise to promote the imperial shrine nationwide.  Moreover, it was asserted that every household should have an Ise talisman in its kamidana (spirit shelf).  At the same time emphasis was given to Yasukuni as a place to commemorate those who had died in the service of the emperor – a new idea.  The imperial bias of the new regime was reflected in the great Pantheon Debate when Okuninushi no mikoto, the deity of Izumo Taisha, was excluded despite claims to being lord of the underworld.  Unlike officially sponsored kami, which derived from the Yamato state, Okuninushi was from Izumo and traced his lineage through Susanoo, a brother and rival to Amaterasu.  For an ancestral religion, such matters were of key importance.

Between 1903 and 1920 there was a massive state-sponsored reorganisation of shrines, the effect of which was to reinforce the imperial connection in rural and remote areas.  A ‘one village one shrine’ policy led to the closure of thousands of shrines housing obscure or unnamed local deities – according to Hardacre, some 83,000 shrines disappeared nationwide during this period.  In many cases officially sanctioned imperial kami were installed in the new combinatory shrines.  These were joined by new shrines erected in honour of imperial ancestors (Kashihara Jingu, erected in 1889 and dedicated to the mythical Emperor Jimmu is an example).  At the same time tombs of the emperor’s lineage were ‘discovered’ by experts as part of a campaign to promote the sanctity of an imperial line descended in unbroken line from the gods.  (Many of the discoveries were dubious, invented or mistaken.) (18)

The overall effect was the creation of a unified religion with an imperial ideology, in which loyalty to the emperor was posited as the greatest good. It was utterly different from anything in the past.  ‘Nowhere else in modern history do we find so pronounced an example of state sponsorship of a religion – in some respects the state can be said to have created Shinto as its official “tradition”,’ is Hardacre’s conclusion. (19)

The path to State Shinto

Whereas kami worship had often been conducted without a Shinto priest in Edo times, rituals were now performed by a priesthood trained by a centralised organisation.  The Imperial Rescript on Education strengthened the notion of imperial divinity, and the idea was spread that Shinto rites were not religious but a part of national life.  Hardacre notes that priests were eager to embrace these reforms, since it brought them state patronage, though the general populace were less enthusiastic.  The effect was that Shinto as an institution became a servant of state, and as the country moved towards militarisation, the new religion fell in behind it.  ‘A strong association between Shinto and war was the inevitable result,’ writes Hardacre, ‘and the priesthood voiced no reservations about the use of shrines to glorify death in battle.’ (20)

The excesses of the war period are well-known, and in a study by D.C. Holtom the blame for this was laid at the door of State Shinto.  There is a tendency to think of State Shinto as having been decisively dismantled by American reforms in the Occupation Period.  Hardacre suggests otherwise, noting that the Meiji-era institutions have remained essentially in place.  Moreover, ‘the priesthood overwhelmingly favors a return to the prewar situation,’ she states.  One factor she doesn’t mention is the effect of hereditary succession on priests’ attitudes, as a high percentage (possibly 50% according to one estimate) come from Shinto households which benefitted from the Meiji reforms.  Like their grandfathers, they owe their vocation and livelihood to the privileging of Shinto in Meiji times.

A poster at Yasaka Jinja urging shrine members to buy an Ise talisman, part of Jinja Hocho's post-Meiji Ise-centric policy

The allegiance to Meiji-style Shinto is reflected in the policies of the National Association of Shrines (Jinja Honcho), established in 1946, which continues to devote the bulk of its efforts to bolstering the authority of Ise.  In their book A New History of Shinto (2010), Breen and Teeuwen have noted the deleterious effect of this on the finances of local shrines, which are coerced into buying Ise amulets in order to resell them to their parishioners.   Similarly the efforts of the ruling party (LDP) to legitimise Yasukuni serve similar ends in being in Hardacre’s words, ‘a clear reassertion of prewar values’.  Visits by self-declared nationalists such as Koizumi Junichiro and Abe Shinzo are obvious examples.  The invented traditions of the Meiji Restoration thus continue to set the country’s religious and political agenda.

For grass-roots believers, there is however another way – that of time-honoured traditions, of local practices, of community festivals, fertility rites and sacred rocks.  It’s a vision of Shinto far removed from the murky world of Meiji reforms and Yasukuni parade-grounds.  It’s an alternative Shinto.  A Shinto for a new age – one that will throw off the shackles of the past.  A Shinto not of narrow nationalism, backward-looking and regressive, but a forward-looking Shinto of hope and environmental internationalism.  A Green Shinto.

 

Grass roots and tree trunks for a Pagan future

Yasukuni politics

Japan’s neighbours are against it.  Its most important ally is against it.  His own coalition partner is against it.  Anyone who’s not aligned with the right-wing is against it.  So why is prime minister Shinzo Abe so bull-headedly set on visiting Yasukuni?  Simply because it’s an important but symbolic footstep along the path to rewriting history and reviving ‘a strong Japan’.

An editorial in The Japan Times yesterday spells out the reckless thoughtlessness of Abe’s recent visit.  In persisting in his misguided action, the prime minister not only brings himself and his country into disrepute, but the religious institution he is so cynically exploiting for his own political ends.

**********************************************************************

Abe makes a strident political point by visiting Yasukuni (pic courtesy CNN)

EDITORIAL  – Another backward step by Abe 
DEC 27, 2013  Japan Times

Prime Minister Shinzo Abe’s visit Thursday to Yasukuni Shrine, Japan’s war shrine, is a thoughtless act that could lead Japan into isolation in the international community. It also revealed his shallow understanding of the immense destruction that Japan’s wars in the 1930s and 1940s brought about and the role that Yasukuni Shrine played in wartime Japan.

At the very least Abe’s visit will put Japan into a very difficult position in the region by reminding other Asians of their or their ancestors’ suffering at the hands of Japan during its colonial rule, war of aggression and military occupation. The visit could also have wider consequences for Japan as shown by the fact that the United States — Japan’s security alliance partner — officially and publicly expressed its disappointment at his visit.

Abe visited Yasukuni Shrine — his first as prime minister — on the first anniversary of the establishment of his current Cabinet. He had repeatedly said that it was a “matter of the greatest regret” that he could not pay a visit to Yasukuni — which enshrines not only Japan’s 2.46 million war dead but also 14 Class-A war criminals — during his first stint as prime minister from September 2006 to September 2007. In connection with his visit, Abe said, “I paid a visit to Yasukuni Shrine and expressed my sincere condolences, paid my respects and prayed for the souls of all those who had fought for the country and made ultimate sacrifices.”

Left to its own, without interference from belligerent right-wingers, Yasukuni could be a worthy and peaceful memorial (courtesy Wikicommons)

He also visited Chinreisha, a shrine in the Yasukuni compound that was built to “pray for the souls of all the people regardless of nationalities who lost their lives in the war, but not enshrined in Yasukuni Shrine,” and said, “Japan must never wage a war again … [and] must be a country which joins hands with friends in Asia and friends around the world to realize peace of the entire world.”

But the prime minister’s statement ignores the fact that Yasukuni Shrine served as a state ideological apparatus to mobilize Japanese for its wars by instilling the idea that it is a great honor for soldiers to die for their country, and also to suppress sorrow and resentment over the personal sacrifices made. It was not a facility to console the souls of dead soldiers. Rather the Japanese military used the shrine as a device to persuade soldiers (and by extension their families and the public at large) to accept death in battle in exchange for their enshrinement at the shrine. Given the nature of the shrine, Abe’s no-war pledge rings hollow.

The U.S., which wants to avoid raising tensions in East Asia, has been advising Abe to restrain from visiting Yasukuni Shrine. The fact that he ignored this advice shows he is placing greater priority on his own political agenda than on security ties with Japan’s most important partner. After his visit, the U.S. government issued a statement saying, “Japan is a valued ally and friend. Nevertheless, the United States is disappointed that Japan’s leadership has taken an action that will exacerbate tensions with Japan’s neighbors.”

Abe seems to ignore the fact that Japan was defeated in World War II and that there is a possibility that the U.S. and other countries will regard his actions aimed at “breaking away from the postwar regime” as a destabilizing factor. He must realize that continuing on such a path could damage relations with the U.S. and further harm already tense ties with Japan’s neighbors. Abe must take responsibility for harming Japan’s diplomatic and security environment through his thoughtless, self-complacent act. He must place the nation’s interests ahead of his own political agenda.

Pagan pasts 7): Pagan revival

This is the penultimate in a series comparing Shinto in Japan and Paganism in Britain.  The previous postings considered Shinto of the Edo era (1600-1867), including syncretism and Nativism.  Now the focus shifts to the nineteenth-century pagan revival in Britain – apt enough since today is the winter solstice, widely celebrated by the neo-pagan community.

****************************************************************************************

The cult of Greece

Pan, the player of pipes

In early nineteenth-century Britain the populace identified strongly with Christianity, though there were considerable differences between the various churches.  The mainstream was represented by Anglicanism, also known as the Church of England, which was officially recognised as the state religion.   Non-Conformists and Catholics were marginalised by being excluded from leading institutions.  Bishops of the Church of England served in the House of Lords: others were barred.  The University of Oxford, which had for long doubled as Anglican seminary and finishing school for the élite, was firmly closed to all non-Anglicans until reforms in the mid-nineteenth century opened up entrance to students of other persuasions (reforms later in the century opened up the teaching staff too).

In public consciousness there was little if any awareness of Paganism, though elements remained from the past in folk customs such as Mayday celebrations or local festivals.  During the course of the nineteenth century, however, there was a rise in interest in the religions of the past.  This was partly due to doubt in the truths of Christianity as Darwinism, utilitarianism and advances in Bible studies assailed former certainties.  It was also partly the legacy of Romanticism, as the intellectuals of the age sought refuge in the past.  The first indications of a change in attitudes came in the appeal of Greek and Roman paganism to the likes of Goethe, Shelley, Byron and Keats.  In ‘Song of Prosperius’ Shelley wrote:

Sacred goddess, Mother Earth,
Thou from whose immortal bosom|
Gods, and men, and beasts have birth
Leaf and blade, and bud and blossom.

Later in the century the poet-rebel Swinburne was even more bold, declaring Christianity a religion of death while the goddess Venus represented nature, joy and vitality.  His tutor at Oxford was Benjamin Jowett, who together with Walter Pater was influential in promoting Greek ideals amongst a generation of intellectuals.  One of the most famous was Oscar Wilde, whose writing is infused with reference to classical deities.  He even wrote a poem in which the Roman gods who arrive after the conquest of Briton compare the English countryside favourably with their homeland and wish to stay.[1]

The most popular pagan god was the Greek deity Pan, horned and half-animal, identified by poets with nature.  The sentiment found fullest expression with Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows (1908), in which the section on ‘The Piper at the Gates of Dawn’ depicts Pan as guardian of the countryside and childhood.  A similar feeling was expressed the same year in verse by Eleanor Farjeon, in a collection entitled Pan-Worship and Other Poems (1908):[2]

The Pagan in my blood, the instinct in me
That yearns back to nature-worship, cries
Aloud to thee!  I would stoop to kiss those feet,
Sweet white wet feet washed with the earth’s first dews.

The Romantic interest in the realm of the imagination led in Victorian times to a rediscovery of ‘cunning folk’ and gypsies who used herbs, charms and traditional remedies for the prevention of illness.  At Oxford Matthew Arnold wrote one of his most famous poems about ‘The Scholar-Gypsy’ who drops out of university to seek a higher truth in nature.  The notion of hidden truths found its fullest expression in the influential The Golden Bough (1890) by James Frazer, which identifies the theme of death and rebirth as fundamental to ancient myth and folklore.  Ironically the intention was to show the primitive absurdity of such ideas, but as it turned out the book fostered a fascination with ancient customs that was to have a profound influence on writers such as Yeats, Joyce, D.H. Lawrence and Robert Graves (whose White Goddess (1948) was in turn hugely influential).

Magick and the legacy of Romanticism

Aleister Crowley in ritual mode

By the early twentieth century Blake’s ‘dark satanic mills’ stood in contrast to an imagined past of rural vitality rooted in worship of Mother Earth.  Ron Hutton’s magisterial The Triumph of the Moon (1989) provides a detailed account of the revival of Paganism in these years. The Folk-Lore Society, set up in 1878, promoted in Hutton’s words an ‘imagined paganism’ to do with primal forces – Earth, Sky, Vegetation, Mothering.  Added to this were Oriental ideas, evident in such groups as the Theosophical Society, which fostered the notion of balancing masculine and feminine forces.

Amongst the leading lights in the new spirituality was Aleister Crowley (1875-1947), who proclaimed ‘There is no god, but man’ and who pursued an interest in spiritual ‘magic’ (magick).  His eclectic practices drew on a wide variety of sources, above all Egypt which he regarded as the origin of esoteric thought.  The Ordo Templi Orientis which he founded took its magical tools from the Masons while also borrowing from Freemasonry, the Knights Templar and Tantric traditions.  Crowley spoke in mystic terms of rituals that tapped into the wellsprings of existence, thereby creating the allure of hidden powers around his secret practices. As such he was a key figure in the revival of ‘modern witchcraft’, if by that term one means those who practise magick (the ability to affect change by spells and charms).

Crowley’s influence lay behind a publication, which in hindsight has been accorded great significance.  Witchcraft Today (1954) was a provocative title, given that witchcraft remained stigmatised (the Witchcraft and Vagrancy Acts had only just been repealed, in 1951).  The book was written by Gerald Gardner (1884-1964), a man with an interest in the occult who had grown up in Ceylon and Malaya.  In 1936 he retired to the UK, and in his book he wrote of coming across a witch’s coven in the New Forest which practised rites handed down from an ancient pagan tradition.  These included dances, consecrated food and drink, and veneration of a goddess as well as a god.  Ceremonies were held within a sacred circle formed by a consecrated knife or sword, there were seasonal festivals, and during rituals trance and ecstasy were used to commune with the deities.  Most shocking of all, the ceremonies were carried out naked.

Gerald Gardner, discoverer or inventor of Wicca?

In The Triumph of the Moon Hutton supposes that much of this derived from Aleister Crowley, whom Gardner had met in 1947.  The younger man was about to become head of Crowley’s Ordo Templi Orientis when he discovered witchcraft, and in his book he borrows elements from both groups.  ‘They consisted,’ says Hutton, ‘of a sequence of initiatory rites based on Masonic practice and Crowley, with some novel features, plus a blessing for wine, and a set of ceremonies and declarations of theory drawn from existing published sources.’[3]  In this way what purported to be an ancient tradition was in fact a mix of assemblage and innovation.  Gardner was well versed in different traditions, and through his experiences abroad he was able to draw on both East and West, including tribal animism, spiritualism, Freemasonry, Co-Masonry, Folk-Lore Society, Ancient Druid Order, Order of Woodcraft, Chivalry, Aleister Crowley and scholarship in such areas as the occult and archaeology.  ‘Beneath the label of “the Old Religion” an extraordinarily novel one was taking shape,’ writes Hutton.[4]

Gardner’s unorthodox practice, which came to be called Wicca, spoke to a generation disaffected from orthodox religion. (Wicca derives from an Indo-European root word meaning ‘to bend or shape’.)  Part of its appeal was that in contrast to Christianity there was no moralising dogma and no doctrine beyond the simple Wiccan Rede: ‘An it harm none, do what ye will.’  Moreover, in its privileging of the feminine it was in accord with a growing belief that ancient mankind had worshipped a supreme female deity.  Robert Graves, for example, in the influential The White Goddess asserted that the entire ancient world had worshipped a triple moon goddess, the inspiration behind true poetry.  Wicca thus appealed to the youth movement on ecological, feminist and non-moralising grounds, and it came to form the mainstream of a burgeoning Neo-pagan movement which looked to the religions of the past in such diverse forms as Viking, Celtic, Saxon and Hellenic Reconstructionism.

The Sixties generation

When Gardner’s book came out in the mid-1950s, disaffection with the status quo was beginning to show itself in the form of movements such as that of the CND against the nuclear bomb.  In the decade that followed the unrest was to swell into a cultural revolution that represented a paradigm shift in attitudes.  Modern commentators, searching for the roots of the 1960s, talk of ‘a long decade’ starting in 1956 when John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger brought the Angry Young Man to the forefront of public consciousness and the Suez crisis showed that Britain no longer ruled the world.

Back to nature became a rallying call for alienated youth in the 1960s

Driven by advances in psychotherapy, young people were more concerned with authenticity than the self-control of the gentleman which had served as model since Victorian times.  Repressing one’s emotions was increasingly rejected in favour of freeing oneself of ‘hang-ups’, and ‘Letting it all hang out’ became the slogan of the times.[5]  As a result there was a move towards sexual freedom and personal development, which went in tandem with a search for inner truth. Meditation and trance (as in the Hare Krshna movement) helped meet the need. When the Beatles went to India on retreat in 1968, the youth of the Western world went with them.  Christianity was left behind.

In its championing of a single male God, the church was widely seen as promoting patriarchy and an unbalanced view of the world.  Moreover, in terms of morality, such as its disapproval of extramarital sex, it was held responsible for promoting psychological distress. In the new ‘liberated’ climate, conventional church-going seemed sterile and meaningless.  Interest focussed instead on Zen Buddhism, Hindu meditation and Daoism.  Along with the East, the New Romantics of the 1960s looked to the past for inspiration, as a result of which Gardner’s Wicca found favour with a whole new generation.

Though it was once assumed that Wicca Paganism, and the wider neo-Pagan movement, represented a revival of ancient ways, it’s recognised now that this was not the case.  (Neo-paganism is used as an umbrella term to denote various groups which seek to revive the religions of the past while adjusting them to the needs of the present.)  The practices are seen rather as having been consciously formed to reflect what was imagined to be the ancient ways.  In this respect Wicca can be considered to be an ‘invented tradition’ which gives the illusion of continuation.

The Pagan Federation in Britain, largely run by Wicca practitioners, has been the fastest growing religion in the UK in recent years.  Since it includes all kinds of ‘reconstructed’ ancient religions, from Greek gods to Scandinavian deities, it has had to adopt the broadest of guiding principles, namely: 1) inherent divinity of the world; 2) freedom from dogma; 3) male and female divinities.  Hutton’s comment on these principles is instructive: ‘At a glance it should be obvious that these principles can also characterise not only every other variety of modern Paganism [in addition to Wicca], but some varieties of Hindu and Shinto beliefs and many tribal religious systems.’[6]

It seems then that the long British track to neo-Paganism had ended up with something akin to Shinto.  It’s no wonder then that many neo-Pagans look with interest to the Japanese tradition.


[1] See Oscar Wilde ‘The Burden of Itys’ in Complete Works Collins, 1948

[2] Quoted by Ron Hutton on p.48 of The Triumph of the Moon: A History of Modern Pagan Witchcraft Oxford paperbacks, 1995

[3] Ron Hutton The Triumph of the Moon p.232

[4] ibid, p.236

[5] See John Dougill ‘The Rise and Fall of the English Gentleman’  Ryukoku Daigaku Ryukoku Gakkai No. 454, 1999

[6] Ron Hutton The Triumph of the Moon p. 390

Happy solstice!

A happy Solstice to all the readers of this blog…

Shinto doesn’t seem to do anything to celebrate the occasion, but my neo-pagan sympathies tell me that it’s a grand occasion for lighting fires and making merry revelry to keep away the dark spirits. From here on in, the days will start to lengthen and there’s the prospect of spring at the end of the tunnel… something to look forward to at this time of deep midwinter.

Kyoto musician Keith Adams has prepared a fine pagan offering to celebrate the solstice, which I recommend giving a listen to…  There’s a brief historical background before the song, which may not be Shinto but is certainly seasonal…  and that’s what Green Shinto is all about.

Whatever you’re celebrating this festive season, have a good one!

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151898488888382&set=vb.531268381&type=2&theater

 

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2025 Green Shinto

Theme by Anders NorénUp ↑