Author: John D. (Page 131 of 202)

Mini Fuji’s

One of the many mini-Fujis– 50 in Tokyo alone (photo courtesy Yomiuri)

 

Hoofing it to sacred fujizuka
Hitoshi Ono / Yomiuri Shimbun Staff Writer   Sept, 13, 2013

Is it too much of a hassle for you to climb Mt. Fuji? Local fujizuka, or small, man-made hills found mainly in the Kanto region, offer a charming and less physically taxing alternative.

With this year’s designation of Mt. Fuji as a UNESCO World Heritage site, fujizuka have seen an increase in visits by people who want to deepen their understanding of the sacred mountain.

Ordinary people began worshipping Mt. Fuji during the Edo period (1603-1867). At that time, local fujizuka were created one after another for the benefit of those who could not go to pray at the 3,776-meter-high mountain. They were usually built near residential areas, such as on the grounds of a shrine, at heights of up to several dozen meters.

A typical fujizuka comprises a mound of earth decorated with stones and a path that leads to a small shrine on top. Rocks are placed and small “caverns” are made to give the mound the appearance of Mt. Fuji.

Hatomori-Hachiman Shrine in Shibuya Ward, Tokyo, is home to the Sendagaya fujizuka, which was built in 1789. Visitors can climb the 6-meter-high hill all year round by way of a path, called ochudo, that winds almost entirely around the hillside.

This authentic fujizuka has a cave in which a stone statue is enshrined. It takes only a few minutes to reach the top, and the summit is covered with lava rocks that are believed to have been brought from Mt. Fuji.

Shunji Hirano, the shrine’s head priest, said recently there have been more young female visitors, as well as older men. Since three years ago, the shrine has sold a memorial certificate for ¥300 to those who ascend the fujizuka.

A 34-year-old female company employee from Tokyo visiting the shrine said Mt. Fuji’s heritage designation prompted her visit. “Mt. Fuji was registered as a World Heritage site. I came here to commemorate that,” she said. “In fact, I was overwhelmed by the steep path. I felt like I climbed part of Mt. Fuji.”

The surface of “Sunamachi Fuji” in Tomigaoka Hachimangu shrine in Koto Ward, Tokyo, is covered with rocks, giving the grounds a solemn, reverent atmosphere.

There are about 50 fujizuka spread around Tokyo’s 23 wards, and 300 in the Kanto region, according to Yoko Arisaka, an artist and author of “Furukute Atarashii Oedo Power Spot: Fujizuka Yurusanpo” (Old yet new spiritual sites in Tokyo: Strolling around fujizuka).

“People are showing greater interest in fujizuka as a casual sightseeing spot in their area. The boom in popularity will be a good chance to spread the culture of Mt. Fuji,” Arisaka said.

Some local governments promote their respective region’s fujizuka. Several in Nerima Ward, Tokyo, are open all year round. The ward’s tourist center hands out free pamphlets explaining the area’s fujizuka, and a tourist association posted a special section on the sites on its website in July.

From Sept. 14 to Nov. 4, Shinjuku Historical Museum, near Tokyo’s Yotsuya-Sanchome Station, will hold a special exhibition of Shinjuku Ward’s cultural assets. The exhibition will feature the Mt. Fuji worship group Fujiko, and show related videos and display panels of the group climbing the mountain.

Not all fujizuka are open all the time, while others are roped off. It is best to check with shrines and local governments before visiting. Some fujizuka are quite rocky, so climbers should wear proper climbing shoes.

 

The real Fuji is only accessible for a couple of months in June and July. The rest of the year ascending the mini-Fuji's may have to suffice

 

State Shinto (Book Review)

Shinto and the State 1868-1988
Helen Hardacre  Princeton University Press, 1989

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

‘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”.’

Helen Hardacre’s book covers a century of modern Shinto, arguing that the religion as we know it is an invention of Meiji ideologues to support the authority of the new state.  This led to the excesses of State Shinto, where loyalty to the emperor was posited as the supreme virtue.  Moreover, the book suggests that, despite the decoupling of state and religion following defeat in WW2, the framework constructed by Meiji reformists remains in place.  In short, Shinto as we now know it is an ‘invented tradition’.

(The term ‘invented tradition’ was coined by Eric Hobsbawn in 1983 to denote the way that in the nineteenth century, faced with the unsettling effects of industrialisation, states drew on the past to foster a sense of continuation and belonging.)

Published 25 years ago, Hardacre’s trenchant analysis is bolstered by factual detail, which does not always make easy reading, but the book remains in print and is regarded as a classic.  It’s the definitive work in English.  The author is a distinguished academic, currently at Harvard University where she is Reischauer Professor of Japanese Religions and Society.  (At the time of writing she was professor at Griffith University, Australia.)

In order to set the Meiji reforms in context, Hardacre describes Shinto in the Edo era as ‘ a mere appendage’ to Buddhism.  There were, it is true, 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.

Since the Tokugawa regime privileged Buddhism as a tool of state, the result was that most shrines were under Buddhist control.  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.

Among the populace at large there was little if any consciousness of something called ‘Shinto’.  (Even today many of my students don’t know the word.)  Kami worship was carried out, but not in any kind of structured or organised fashion.  ‘In an institutional sense,’ summarises Hardacre, ‘Shinto has no legitimate claim to antiquity.’

The first signs of change to the status quo came with Nativism, or Kokugaku as it is known.  Hardacre does not spend much time on this, which is regrettable since it’s crucial to the formation of modern Shinto, particularly the nationalist aspects.  Inspired by Confucian notions of studying the past, thinkers such as Kamo no Mabuchi and others looked back to an idealised ‘pure’ Japanese past before foreign ideas polluted the homeland.

Shugendo was banned by the Meiji Reformists in 1872 and its adherents forced to choose between Shinto and Buddhism. The ban was only lifted in 1947.

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.  The populace would by rights revere the emperor, as in the mythical past, but his authority had been usurped by military shoguns.  In this way an ideology was conveniently at hand for the anti-shogunate movement of the 1860s.

When the Restorationists came to power, they drew on the ideas of Kokugaku to foster an emperor-centred state (in effect run by themselves).  In this they were inspired by the role of Christianity in the West.  In promoting a state religion, they spread the idea that Shinto had been suppressed under Buddhism.  Consequently the split of Buddhism and Shinto in 1868 was far from amicable, and in some cases the two elements had to be forcibly torn apart.

The ‘construction’ of the new religion is covered by Hardacre in some detail.  Shrines were ranked in a hierarchy, with the imperial shrine of Ise at the apex.  Rather than an agricultural deity, Amaterasu was championed as founder of the imperial lineage, and Ise was thus privileged as the ancestral shrine of the emperor.  The bias towards imperial ancestors was reflected in Izumo’s Okuninushi being excluded from the national pantheon.  At the same emphasis was given to Yasukuni as a place to commemorate those who had died in the service of the emperor – a new idea.

The intention 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.  70 Daijingu, or Kotai Jingu, were established as branches of Ise to promote the imperial shrine nationwide.  Moreover, the notion was spread that every house should have an Ise talisman.

Between 1903 and 1920 there was a massive state-sponsored reorganisation of shrines to firm up the imperial connection.  A ‘one village one shrine’ policy led to the closure of thousands of shrines with local deities – some 83,000 shrines disappeared nationwide.  In their place officially sanctioned imperial kami were promoted, and ancestral tombs of the emperor’s lineage identified by experts (often mistakenly).

Modern priest families largely owe themselves to the reforms of Meiji times

Whereas kami worship was conducted for the most part without a Shinto priest in Edo times, rituals were now carried out by a unified 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 result of the Meiji-era reforms was that Shinto 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.’

The excesses of the war period are well-known, but it is in the closing chapter of her book that Hardacre performs her most valuable function.  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 remain essentially in place.  Moreover, ‘the priesthood  overwhelmingly favors a return to the prewar situation,’ she notes.  What she doesn’t mention is the influence of inheritance on this, as the vast majority of priests come from Shinto families who benefitted from the Meiji reforms and therefore owe their vocation and livelihood to them.

The National Association of Shrines, Jinja Honcho, was established in 1946 and is officially independent, though it continues to devote the bulk of its efforts to bolstering the authority of Ise.  Teeuwen and Breen have noted the deleterious effect of this on the finances of local shrines.   The efforts of the present ruling party (LDP) to legitimise Yasukuni serve similar ends in being ‘a clear reassertion of prewar values’.  The invented traditions of the Meiji Restoration thus continue to set the agenda.

This book is an essential read for anyone seriously concerned with the present state of modern Shinto.  It not only provides a context for the understanding of contemporary issues, but shows how and why they are rooted in the past.  As George Orwell noted, those who control the present determine the past, and the notion that Shinto is the continuation of an age old tradition is one of the ways in which history is manipulated.  Though this book is now nearly 25 years old, the intervening years have done little to date the arguments, and the weight of evidence is overwhelming.  Hardacre surely proves her case.

A banner promoting worship at Ise in one of the country's 80,000 shrines - the National Association of Shrines has made this official policy, in the manner of the Meiji reforms

 

Tarobo-gu (Shiga)

The Akagami hill to which Tarobo-gu clings on the lower slopes

 

PAGAN’S DELIGHT

For a neo-pagan, Japan is a magical treasure-house of sacred sites and power spots.  Many date back to prehistoric times, their origins obscured by a mist thicker even than that of ancient Avalon.  There are swords here more sacred than Excalibur, myths more potent than Camelot, a female deity to rival even the great Earth Goddess herself.  All this and a primal religion that remains intact, not fabricated.  For a seeker of the old ways, Japan is a pagan’s delight indeed.

Such is the plenitude of holy places that somewhere special like Tarobo-gu (aka Taroubou-gu) goes practically unknown.  My Japanese friends had never heard of it.  Yet this Shiga-ken mountain shrine would surely be high on the list of spiritual centres if it were in any other country.  A striking setting; captivating legends; and over 1200 years of spiritual endeavour.

A Tengu water-basin for purification

The mountain, named Akagami, has a distinctive shape, rising out of the valley floor like a miniature Mt Fuji.  From the approach road there are 742 steps up to the main shrine.  Be prepared for a steep climb.  If you’re not up to that, it’s possible to drive up to the main complex, but then of course you won’t earn any merit.  Besides, it’s rather wonderful to arrive at an unmanned railway station in the middle of nowhere with not a coffee shop or convenience store in sight.  Just a road that beckons to a sacred hill.

Mountain asceticism

Akagami has been a place of worship since before the seventh century, when the Buddhist Prince Shotoku visited it.  In recognition of its spiritual power he established a temple for the protection of the realm.  Later on Saicho, founder of the Tendai sect, came to pray and started a hermitage for his followers.

From the outset Tendai has revered local kami, and for centuries the mountain hosted a Shinto-Buddhist complex.  It also served as a centre for shugendo (mountain asceticism).  The name of the shrine, Tarobo, refers to a tengu king.  A mythical creature with shamanistic overtones, the tengu dwell in the mountains and are linked to mountain asceticism and martial arts.

The Tarobo tengu is supposedly the elder brother of the Kurama tengu, under which the twelfth-century hero Yoshitsune trained.  The young boy was an apprentice at the Tendai temple near Kyoto, and when he escaped to join his brother Yoritomo he made for the Akagami complex.  The rock where he rested is now a shrine to his memory.

Cold waterfall for ascetic rites

Evidence of the shugendo connection is everywhere apparent at the shrine.  Water basins intended for cold water austerities.  Ropes dangling from death-defying cliffs.  And a meditative walk along the rock face presided over by a statue of the shugendo founder, the legendary En no Gyoja (fl.660).

Syncretism
For centuries the temple-shrine complex on Akagami remained a thriving exemplar of Japanese syncretism.  But after the coming to power of the Meiji government in 1868, religious institutions were forced to choose between Shinto and Buddhism by authorities keen to impose a state religion.  Many believe this to be an artificial division, and that Shinto-Buddhism represents Japan’s natural mindset.  It certainly seems that way on Tarobo, since the shrine precincts are home to several examples of Buddhist statuary.

The main kami is a son of Amaterasu.  His name is not widely known,unsurprisingly since it’s Masaka-Akatsukachi-Hayahiameno-Oshi-Homimi-no-Mikoto.  In Japanese mythology he was a heavenly warrior offered the chance by his mother to ‘descend to earth’ but he demurred in favour of his son Ninigi.  According to the shrine, he has the attributes of the sun, rising every morning without fail to conquer darkness.   As such he’s a kami of victory, whether it be in business, exams, martial arts or any other field of life.  Prayers should be directed to that end.

The shrine’s main feature is a massive ‘husband and wife’ rock that according to legend was cleaved in half by the sword of a mighty kami.  A narrow path leads between the two sheer rock faces, and if you’re pure of heart you can pass straight through.  Liars, however, will be wedged in half-way.  It’s a test of the ‘makoto’ (sincerity) that lies at the heart of Shinto – and some would say Japanese culture as a whole.

Intriguing pathways lead off from the main building, and there are more sacred rocks at the top of the mountain.  There are also fine views on a clear day.  There’s a small Dream Shrine too where, if you write a wish on a white stone, your dream will come true.  Magical, you might say.

The highlight of the year is a fire festival on the first Sunday of December. This is one of the biggest events in the shugendo calendar, attended by some three hundred yamabushi (mountain ascetics).  Thousands of wooden tablets are sent up in billowing smoke to waft the prayers of the faithful to heaven.  Afterwards there is fire-walking, with onlookers too invited to join in.  A midwinter fire with conch-horns; nature worshippers in deerskin; sacred rites and ancient spells.  It’s a spectacle that will surely warm the heart of any pagan!
______________________

Directions: From Kyoto or Osaka, take the ‘shinkaisoku’ to Omihachiman, then a local train for 15 mins to Tarobo station.  From there it’s a ten minute walk to the shrine steps.  Tel. 0748 23-1341.

Passing between the sacred rocks is supposed to bring good luck - an obvious incentive by the kami to diet.

 

Some of the steps are steep, and some of the buildings improbably built into the rockside

 

En no Gyoja, legendary founder of Shugendo mountain asceticism

Entrance way to a shrine on a magical rock

Miyazaki Hayao to retire

Influential anime maker and manga artist Miyazaki Hayao is to retire.  His latest film The Wind Rises was released in July and the director has announced that it will be his final feature-length film.  An appreciation of his career can be read on Wikipedia or here.

The film maker is of note here because of the many Shinto themes that appear in his works.  Several online sites have dealt with the subject, including this thoughtful piece with references and useful illustrations (click on them to enlarge):  http://culturevisuelle.org/introtovc/archives/727

There’s also an academic piece dealing specifically with Shinto themes in the film Spirited Away, which can be accessed at this site: http://www.unomaha.edu/jrf/Vol8No2/boydShinto.htm

This paper by Lucy Wright has some interesting observations about the role of kami and nature in Princess Mononoke and Spirited Away: http://refractory.unimelb.edu.au/2004/02/03/wonderment-and-awe-the-way-of-the-kami-lucy-wright/

Finally, this piece looks particularly interesting though it’s only available at a price: http://dx.doi.org/10.1386/nl.6.1.181_1  Sorensen, Lars-Martin (2008). Animated animism – the global ways of Japan’s national spirits. Northern Lights: Film and Media Studies Yearbook, 6(1), 181-196.

“This article discusses the tremendous global success of Japanese anime, its uses and negotiations of Japanese religious and nationalist mythology, and the way these features are appropriated domestically and abroad. Emphasis is given to the works of Hayao Miyazaki, whose films have been categorized as ‘de-assuring’ Japaneseness and as promoting an environmentalist agenda. It is discussed whether the indigenous religion, Shinto, which has historically served as a vehicle for nationalism, can be applied to progressive ends unproblematically. The article argues that while the intended meaning of Miyazaki’s films may be to further ecological awareness, another concern of Miyazaki’s, namely to promote traditional cultural values, puts his work at risk of being construed along the lines of contemporary Japanese nationalism. Finally, the broader workings behind the global success of those apparently highly culture-specific films are discussed.”

 

Sacred woods dissertation

The finished dissertation with its intriguing title

 

Congratulation to Green Shinto friend, Aike Rots, who has just completed his dissertation on Sacred Forests in Japan.  His research took him to some of the most interesting shrines working along environmental principles, as documented in a previous posting.  It’s ground-breaking work in at least one sense (!) and we look forward to seeing the work in published form one day.

Aike writes: ‘The dissertation is now going to be sent to the defense committee. If they decide that it is good enough for defense, this will become the final version, and it will be printed/published by the university. I assume that from that moment I can send the PDF to anybody who is interested, but I’ll have to check whether there are any rules for this. After my defense I will also get in touch with publishers to turn it into a real book. That will probably require some rewriting though, so it may take a while.’

Wayside shrine on the way to Rinno-ji in Nikko

Environmental or nationalist?

Protest in Tokyo against the Taiji dolphin slaughter (Photo courtesy AFP)



 
An article in Japan Today
concerning protests against the horrendous slaughter of dolphins in Japan highlights how such issues can divide environmentalists and nationalists.  Environmentalists are motivated by universalism and a concern for the earth as a whole.  It brings people together in a common cause.  Nationalism see things from a narrow-minded viewpoint predicated on cultural values and national interests.  It’s characterised by division and conflict.

Since the Meiji ‘construction’ of Shinto as a tool of state, the religion has been considered by some as ‘a religion of Japaneseness’.  For that reason it often lines up on the wrong side of environmental issues, such as whaling, dolphins and the nuclear issue.  This is hard to understand for those who see the religion as simply nature worship.

As the environmental crisis worsens in the twenty-first century, Shinto will have to choose between a backward-looking nationalism and progressive environmentalism.  Borders have little meaning in a global age, and neither dolphins nor nuclear radiation pay any attention to them.  With the spread of Shinto to the West, it’s the green side of Shinto that will prevail, and hopefully within Japan too a new generation will shrug off the ugly associations of the past.

(Protests against the Taiji slaughter are being organised worldwide, including London, Sao Paulo, Vancouver and across the United States,)

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

Activists rally in Tokyo against dolphin hunt
NATIONAL SEP. 01, 2013   AFP  TOKYO —

Environmentalists staged a rally in Tokyo Saturday to protest the start of Japan’s annual dolphin hunt, which was made infamous by an Academy Award-winning documentary.

The rally organizer, Action for Marine Mammals, said it was one a number of demonstrations taking place around the world this weekend ahead of the season’s hunt in the Japanese fishing village of Taiji.

About 50 activists gathered in central Tokyo carrying banners that read: “Stop the slaughter.”

“Japanese people are responsible for stopping our country’s barbarian dolphin hunt,” said Toshiaki Morioka, head of the group, adding that some of his members planned to travel Taiji later.

Environmentalist poster (photo AFP)

The village drew global attention after “The Cove”, a hard-hitting film about the annual dolphin hunt, won the Academy Award for best documentary in 2010.

Fishermen corral hundreds of dolphins into a secluded bay, select a few dozen for sale to aquariums and slaughter the rest for meat. The dolphin hunt takes place over a period of months.

Marching side by side with the environmentalists, a dozen Japanese nationalists shouted through loudhailers: “Get out of Japan! Hypocrites!”

The nationalists accused the environmentalists of undermining Japanese culture and traditions, labeling the demonstrators as “environmental terrorists”.

Some tried to break up the march, but police separated them from the procession to avoid a possible skirmish.

Japanese rightwing activists have recently increased their presence, stirring nationalistic sentiment amid territorial disputes with China and South Korea.

7 Lucky Gods (complete guide)

Mark Schumacher, compiler of the wonderful onmark A-Z Dictionary of Japanese religions, has produced an authoritative guide to the Seven Lucky Gods (Shichifukujin).  This labour of love includes the following:

INTRO Page. Explores their development in art and lore. 50 photos. 16 pages.
Ebisu. Only Japanese god in the group. 16 photos. 5 pages.
Bishamonten. From the Hindu pantheon. 80 photos. 24 pages.
Benzaiten. From the Hindu pantheon. Only female in group. 260 photos. 60 pages.
Daikokuten. From the Hindu pantheon. 36 photos. 12 pages.
Fukurokuju. From the Chinese pantheon. 12 photos. 5 pages.
Hotei. From the Chinese pantheon. 19 photos. 5 pages.
Jurōjin. From the Chinese pantheon. 6 photos. 5 pages.
Various side pages, including Benzaiten’s Main Sanctuaries (52 photos, 16 pages), and Kami of Rice, Food, Agriculture and Wealth (4 photos, 4 pages).

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

Benzaiten, the only female amongst the Seven, playing her biwa

Mark writes…….

Japan’s Seven Lucky Gods (Shichifukujin 七福神) are an eclectic group of deities from Japan, India, and China.  Only one is native to Japan (Ebisu). Three are deva from India’s Hindu pantheon (Benzaiten, Bishamonten, Daikokuten) and three are gods from China’s Taoist-Buddhist traditions (Hotei, Jurōjin, Fukurokuju).

In my mind, it is more fruitful to explore the seven within a Deva-Buddha-Kami (Hindu-Buddhist-Shintō) matrix rather than a standard binary Buddha-Kami model. For that reason, special emphasis is given to the three Hindu deva. Although the group’s Japanese origin can be traced back to the 15th century, the set of seven did not become stadardized until the late 17th century.

By the 19th century, most major cities had developed special pilgrimage circuits for the seven. These pilgrimages remain well trodden in contemporary times, but many people now use cars, buses, and trains to move between the sites.  Today images of the seven appear with great frequency in Japanese art and media, but unlike olden times, the seven are now often portrayed as cute, lovable and childlike.

The “cutification” of religious icons in modern Japan is widespread and part of a much larger social trend toward cuteness in billboard advertising, corporate branding, sports mascots, street fashion, product design, and a host of other areas. This integrated primer explores the seven’s historical development in Japanese art and lore.

Statues of Daikoku, equated with the kami Onamuchi (aka Okuninushi) worshipped at Futarasan Jinja in Nikko. (There is a collection of cute Daikoku ema and statues in the shrine’s Daikoku-do.)

 

The rat, familiar of Daikoku aka Okuninushi, here seen in the Daikoku Hall of Futarasan Jinja in Nikko. (Okuni is equated with Daikoku because their names have the same Chinese characters but with different readings.)

« Older posts Newer posts »

© 2025 Green Shinto

Theme by Anders NorénUp ↑