Author: John D. (Page 169 of 202)

Championing polytheism

June 4, 2012 / John D. / 0 Comments

The kamiari festival on the beach at Izumo, where Japan's "yaoyorozu" kami (eight myriad kami) are welcomed ashore

Polytheism and pluralism
The new edition of Japanese Religions, a journal published by the NCC in Kyoto, carries an interesting article by Ugo Dessi, lecturer at Leipzig University. In his paper Dessi looks at how pluralism has been used by Japanese intellectuals in recent years to promote a nationalist viewpoint. It’s a curious paradox, since one might presume pluralism to lead to tolerance and open-mindedness, but the thrust of the right-wing argument is that it makes Japan special.

In the first section of his paper Dessi considers the thinking of Shinto intellectuals, such as Yoro Takeshi and Umehara Takeshi. Their ideas rest on the opposition of polytheism and pluralism on the one hand, and Christianity and monotheism on the other. The latter is portrayed in 1960s terms as exclusivist, dogmatic, patriarchal, aggressive and destructive of the environment. It is also depicted as inherently Western.

By contrast the Asian way is identified with polytheism, which is able to embrace multiple and mutually contradictory truths. “In its long history Shinto (we may well say in this case, the Japanese people) has accepted Buddhism, Confucianism, and yin-yang thought and has intermingled with them. This is because at the root of this process lies the acceptance of a plurality of truths,” says a Jinja Honcho pamphlet (2009).

Shrines in Japan often worship several kami at once

A special relation to nature
Some writers have gone further than simply championing the merits of polytheism to suggest that Japan is special. “It is interesting,” writes Ugo Dessi, “to notice that in institutional Shinto the critique of monotheism is also meaningfully connected to the invented tradition of Shinto as a ‘religion of the forest.’ In a self-presentation by the powerful Shinto Kokusai Gakkai (ISF), started in 1994 to promote the study and understanding of Shinto worldwide, the critique takes its cue from the distinction between ‘shallow ecology’ and ‘deep ecology’.”

Dessi’s article goes on to consider other branches of Japanese religion, and comes to the conclusion that rather than leading to openness and inclusiveness, the current vogue for championing polytheism might actually be fuelling the right-wing discourse of nihonjinron (debate about what it is to be Japanese).

Personally, I would have thought that polytheism offers an important means of coming together, and that far from reinforcing divisions, it contains the potential for tolerance based on plurality. In my sabbatical year I will be researching polytheism and paganism in the British Isles, while considering how they parallel developments in Shinto. In this way I hope to build a bridge between East and West, and gain a greater understanding of what the traditions can offer each other.

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Information is drawn from ‘Japanese Religions, Inclusivism, and the Global Context’ by Ugo Dessi in Japanese Religions Vol. 36 Nos. 1 and 2 (Spring and Fall, 2011), p.83-99.

The circle of life: passing through the 'chinowa' at a shrine this week for midyear purificaiton

Spring haiku

June 4, 2012 / John D. / 0 Comments

Unseen guardians

of these mossy steps –

spring sunshine shade

Fushimi Inari

May 30, 2012 / John D. / 3 Comments

View towards the main shrine

Fox, messenger of the kami Inari

May. Sunshine. Fertility. Inari…..

What a blessing at this time of year to live in Kyoto and be able to walk up the sacred mount at Fushimi. I’ve never seen the shrine so radiant, for it stands freshly restored and repainted. The vermillion colours sparkled in the sunshine, and the lacquered woodwork stood pristine against the verdant surrounds. The spirit of place was clearly delighted, happy to receive the pilgrim tourists drawn to its slopes.

Inari was founded in 711 by a member of the influential immigrant Hata clan. There’s a hokora (small shrine) dedicated to him as you mount the steps behind the main shrine. Further up the hillside there’s an iwakura (sacred rock) for him too. I often pay respects there, and while doing so I recall the curious founding myth of the shrine.

Foundation myth
Legend has it that clan leader Hata no Irogu one day used a large white rice cake (mochi) as a target for archery practice. When his arrow pierced the cake, a white bird flew up to the top of the hill and settled in a tree beneath which a rice field appeared. Seeing this, Irogu was moved to found a shrine.

One interpretation is that since rice was the staple of life for ancient Japanese, it was regarded as sacred, so shooting at a rice cake was sacrilegious. Consequently the rice spirit took flight and by revealing the newly grown rice field indicated the miraculous nature of the crop. Realisation of its vital role in the life of man led Irogu to build a shrine in gratitude to the ‘earth goddess’ that caused the grain to grow.

For myself, however, I can’t help seeing Taoist symbolism in the myth. A white circle; a red arrow; penetration. In the coming together of yin and yang was born new growth, crops, the stuff of life. The fertility theme is reinforced by subsequent developments, for the shrine’s original kami, known as Ugadama or Ugamitama no mikoto, became Inari in Heian times when it merged with the fertility couple of Sarutahiko (a deity with a phallic nose) and Ame no Uzume (a dancer who exposed her genitalia). Later still two others were added, so that Inari became a ‘five pillar’ deity, worshipped today as the deity of rice.

Inside a tunnel of torii, celebrating the rebirth

Tunnels and foxes
Fushimi is the head of some 30,000 Inari shrines around the country, characterised by their red tunnels of torii. Fushimi itself boasts some ten thousand altogether, and passing through the lower tunnels is a symbolic marker as one ‘enters into the mountain’.

For many, Fushimi is more than a form of tourism; it’s a form of pilgrimage. In ascending to the topmost altar, one sloughs off the mundane and takes on a new persona in the rarified air of the hill. Physical exertion is accompanied by spiritual refreshment, so that returning through the womb-tunnel one is symbolically reborn. (As Inari is a fertility goddess, she is also associated with childbirth.)

Key holder

Just as numerous and noticeable as the torii are the statues of foxes, messengers of the kami. Sometimes the animal holds in its mouth an ear of rice, or the key to the rice granary. Sometimes too it carries a wish-fulfiling jewel. Here again there may be a fertility element, for the key is a phallic symbol and the jewel a female symbol.

Continental foxlore which entered from China in the eighth and ninth centuries attached itself to the Fushimi deity, and the Hata clan made a cult of the animal. Foxes are liminal creatures, that hover on the edge of woodland and move mysteriously in the twilight. In this way they came to capture the Japanese imagination.

Rise to prominence
Already from the early ninth century the shrine developed strong Buddhist connections, for the founder of the Shingon sect, Kukai (774-835), used wood from Mt Inari to build his Kyoto headquarters at Toji and enshrined the kami as the temple’s protecting deity. (The Buddhist version of Inari has a boddhisattva named Daikiniten riding witchlike on a flying white fox.)

A noticeboard at Fushimi says that the shrine first came to national attention in 852 after successful prayers for rain, and later it was included among the prestigious 22 Shrines deserving imperial patronage. By Edo times it was established as a magical Shinto-Buddhist complex with strong drawing power. ‘If sick pray to Kobo Daishi (i.e. Kukai), if making a wish pray to Inari,’ ran a popular saying.

The kami was among the most accessible for ordinary folk, especially women (many Buddhist places, including sacred mountains, were off-limits to women). Perhaps as a result, Inari became a focus for female shamanic types working with healing. divination and other-worldly contact. Tales of fox-possession were rife, and ridding a person of the fox-spirit a common means of treatment for physical and mental ailments.

Guardman at the entrance to the shrine

It was in this age too that the shrine became associated with wealth and business. Rice was used for currency and taxation, with peasants forced to hand over the greater part of their yield to the daimyo (lords). (In Edo times the total rice levy was 30 million bushels, of which the Tokugawa took 7. Next to them were the Maeda lords of Kanazawa, notable for their hyakumanben income (1 million bushels).

As a result Inari is today one of Japan’s most flourishing shrines, with the highest number of New Year visitors in Kansai. The constant stream of purifications attests to its appeal. It’s particularly popular with businesses, which patronise it in the hope of winning success.

Highs and lows
In her book The Fox and the Jewel Karen Smyers describes the tensions that exist between believers who frequent the upper reaches of the hill and the shrine nestled at its base. She casts it in terms of a clash between a female shamanic tradition and the male priests. The former seek direct contact with the kami on the private land above the shrine; the latter follow ceremonial order and propriety. One strand of Inari worship inclines to mysticism and individualism, the other to rationalism and conformity. (It’s a division that reminds me of neighboring Korea, where I once attended a female shamanic rite which preceded a male-dominated Confucian ceremony – both celebrating the same event yet very, very different in nature.)

One of the 10.000 'otsuka' altars on Inari hill

There are some 50 priests working at Fushimi, all of whom are male. There are also some 600 ‘ko’ (fraternities) associated with the shrine, which centre their belief around Mt Inari and make pilgrimages to the hill. Many of them are far from orthodox, some being led by shamanic figures and some by Buddhists.

I’ve often come across groups performing rituals in front of a particular ‘otsuka’, or altar. There are some ten thousand of these rock monuments, which were put up for the most part in a spontaneous development at the end of the Edo era. They were initially opposed by the shrine’s priests, who saw control slipping out of their hands. Now, sensibly, they sanction and regulate the erection of the otsuka, charging some Y16,000 for the privilege.

Each of the otsuka bears a name or names of the manifestation in which Inari appeared to the worshipper ~ Great Being of Light, for instance. It’s said that the names are revealed in the dreams of believers, prompting them to put up a monument to their personalised manifestation, complete with fox guardians. In many cases family descendants continue to visit the monument, and one often sees fresh offerings and newly sewn red bibs on the foxes.

On a visit once I was puzzled to hear what sounded like Buddhist prayers being chanted though I could see no people. As I made my way towards where the voices were coming from, I virtually fell on top of a small group crouched in a hollow before a particular rock, on which lay offerings of rice and saké. Here on the hilltop I had a sense of how worship must have been in ancient times – outdoors, direct and informal. Here, you could say, the spirit of place was in situ.

Inari in her female form as goddess of rice (the deity also has a male manifestation in the form of an old man)

Buddhist mirror

May 29, 2012 / John D. / 4 Comments

Buddhist altar with round mirror

On my visits to Buddhist temples, I’ve sometimes noticed round mirrors on the altars and wondered whether this was the influence of syncretic shin-butsu (Shinto-Buddhism). However, thanks to Green Shinto friend and polymath John Hanagan, I’ve now been able to trace this mirror back to Yogācāra (literally, “yoga practice”), an influential school of Buddhism focussing on internal perception which developed around the 4th century CE.

Yogācāra discourse examines how human experience is constructed by mind. One of the theorists, a fifth-century Indian called Vasubandhu, came up with the idea of eight levels of consciousness. The top level shines with the light of a wisdom like a great mirror… hence the expression in Buddhism of The Great Wisdom Mirror, or Great Perfect Mirror Wisdom, which reflects the universe as it really is, free of distortion from ego or ignorance.

The Buddhist mirror is thus intended to liberate the mind. It signifies that life is an illusion, for the mirror is not true reality — it is rather a reflection of reality. It is thus a metaphor for the unenlightened mind, which is deluded by mere appearances. Look and reflect upon reality!

The Shinto mirror, symbol of Amaterasu

In one of his paintings the Zen master, Hakuin (1686-1768), uses the mirror as a symbol of the Buddha-mind. How interesting then that Amaterasu, Shinto’s sun-goddess, should be represented by a mirror. It prompts one to wonder about the connections. The founding myths of Shinto were recorded in the late seventh/early eighth century, more than a hundred years after the introduction of Buddhism, and are clearly stamped with the influence of continental ideas.

Could Buddhist notions have played a part in the identification of Amaterasu with a mirror? The idea of marking her as both an enlightened being as well as an imperial ancestor must have been appealing to the mythologisers of the day. If so, it would fit in with current notions about early Shinto being akin to a branch of Buddhism.

Previously I’d always thought of the shamanistic mirror as lying behind that of Amaterasu. Now however the Great Perfect Wisdom Mirror has given me pause for thought – in more senses than one!

The Buddhist deity, Emma, lord of the underworld, who uses a mirror to examine the souls of those who come before him

Hakuin had this to say on the subject of Emma’s mirror: “In Emma’s court there is a Mirror of perfect clarity that reflects unfailingly the past misconduct and sins of the dead, but they do not learn about it and become repentant until after they have fallen into Hell, when it is too late. This mirror is in fact nothing other than man’s Storehouse Consciousness. When you break through this Consciousness at its very depths and grasp your original self, the Storehouse Consciousness becomes, in and of itself, the Great and Perfect Mirror Wisdom.” (tr. by Norman Waddell)

Atago Shrine (Fukuoka)

May 28, 2012 / John D. / 0 Comments

The view makes the climb worthwhile

Steps leading up to Atago Shrine

The Atago Shrine in Fukuoka isn’t a famous shrine, but it’s well worth the effort of visiting. It’s on the top of Mt Atago, in the west of the city, a small but fairly steep slope. Visitors are rewarded with wonderful views over Hakata Bay. Somewhere in the urban sprawl that extends along the coast can be seen Fukuoka Dome and Tower.

The Atago ox, disturbed in his contemplation of the scene behind him

There are apparently some 900 Atago shrines in Japan, and this is one of the Big Three together with the head shrine in Kyoto as well as one in Tokyo. It’s said to be the oldest shrine in Fukuoka prefecture, supposedly founded in the reign of legendary Emperor Keiko some 2000 years ago. It’s also the most visited shrine in the prefecture at New Year. The shrine literature claims that since Edo times it has been known for its ‘gods of prohibitions such as temperance in alcohol and quit smoking’.

Surprisingly Jizo popped up here in the shrine precincts

The shrine is notable for its crest, which looks like two magatama but is in fact the tusks of the wild boar. It symbolises the power of the animal, as if harnessed by the kami and passed on to its flock. Another striking aspect of the shrine are the guardian komainu, some of which have intriguing expressions. I was surprised to find too a Buddhist Jizo on a table in the precincts, with a notice claiming that it would cure people of illnesses if you rubbed it.

The shrine is evidently doing its best at outreach, as part of which it has prepared an English-language ‘Atago Shrine News’. The summer edition advertised a Hozuki (Chinese lantern) summer festival on July 15th and 16th with the promise that ‘we prepare some entertainment for you’. There was also a list of bad luck years (yakudoshi), with the offer of purification or good luck charms to ward off misfortune.

From April to May there is an ongoing children’s festival, with a Seven Lucky Gods celebration and cards on which children can write what they want to become when adult. There is also a Tanabata ceremony on July 7, when wishes written previously will be dedicated to the shrine’s kami. And on July 1st there’s a special Fukuoka custom in which sand called ‘Oshioi‘ is sold to believers to be placed near their front door to keep away bad luck. (Winter sees a Fire Festival at the shrine, when participants walk barefoot across burning charcoal.)

The worship hall at Atago

One of the unusual komainu

and another...

The shrine's crest – artistic representation of a wild boar's tusks

Kego Shrine (Fukuoka)

May 24, 2012 / John D. / 0 Comments

Kego Shrine in downtown Fukuoka: a shrine to consumerism?

Kego Shrine in the midst of Tenjin, Fukuoka, is a sorry-looking place, swamped as it is by concrete, consumerism and car parks. It’s like a vision of the degradation of spirituality in modern life. A religion whose roots lie in the celebration of awe and wonder has been dessicated by the sterility of contemporary commercialism.

The shrine was originally on another site and moved here in 1608. Named after a defense facility at Dazaifu named Keigo-sho, it stood not far from the Yamato state’s Korokan (guesthouse for diplomats). It was connected with such historical events as the revolt of Fujiwara Sumitomo, and generations of local lords worshipped here as a tutelary shrine of Fukuoka castle (it was the Ubugami of the daimyo Kuroda Tadayuki). I wonder what he’d think of it now!

Noticeboard of a Conservation Society to protect greenery

Once no doubt the shrine was surrounded by a large grove of trees. Now – irony of ironies – a noticeboard announces the intentions of a Greenery Conservation Society. It stands against the backdrop of a desolate treeless space. Cars, not kami, take priority here.

There seemed something decidedly out of balance about the atmosphere of the shrine, and the tone was set by the shishi guardians at the shrine entrance, both of which are strikingly male. This flies in the face of yin-yang equilibrium, and when I mentioned it to a shrine priest, he replied sheepishly that the statues had been made about forty years ago and that Kego wasn’t the only shrine to have a male-male pairing. However, what it signified or why it was ordered he was unable to say.

Feminist ideology has long held that patriarchal values lie at the root of humankind’s war on nature, so perhaps there’s a link here (though it’s worth noting that the female propensity for shopping plays a huge part in the drive towards consumerism). But apart from the loss of a sense of wonder in modern life, Kego has another important lesson to teach, I think. Contrary to what many like to believe, Shinto is not simply a nature religion – it’s primarily an ancestral religion. The kami worshipped here, as at the vast majority of shrines in Japan, are the spirits of the ruling élite of the past. In this sense Shinto has sometimes been called a religion of Japaneseness – and Kego presents a vivid picture of just what that means in 2012.

A decidedly male guardian figure, whose partner is also male

A once proud nature religion reduced to a handful of trees

Yayoi life (Yoshinogari)

May 20, 2012 / John D. / 1 Comment

When the Yoshinogari area in northern Kyushu was excavated in 1986, the extent of the ruins led to great excitement that it might be the site of an ancient Yamatai kingdom mentioned in Chinese chronicles. People flooded to visit, and in 1992 it was decided to turn it into a historical park celebrating the Yayoi era (300 BC – 300 AD).

Tori–i (Bird perch) entrance gate

Reconstructed houses have been erected on the very sites of the ruins (which lie beneath them, buried under a protective covering). There’s also an excavated mound on display with genuine burial jar fragments. The result is a surprisingly informative display of Yayoi life, done in consultation with leading experts in the field of archaeology and ancient architecture. As such it enables one to see the latest thinking among Japanese specialists about their past.

There are five main areas: one where the rulers lived; one for politico-religious ceremonies; one a burial site for the ruling elite; one where ceremonial objects were made; and one a market centre with storehouses. The population of this small kingdom is estimated at 5,400.

The overall effect is to show how the move from a nomadic lifestyle to rice-growing communities in Yayoi times led to vested interests and the need for defense, weapons and watchtowers.

Religious life
It was in Yayoi times that proto-Shinto developed. Like other aspects of Yayoi culture, religious belief derived from the Chinese mainland, as transmitted through Korea. The park’s literature constantly refers to the Chinese situation in the assumptions made about Yoshinogari culture and lifestyle.

Silk-weaving was invested with spiritual allure

One area – Nakanomura – is believed to have been where priests made ritual objects. It’s also believed that they brewed alcohol and raised silkworms in the same compound. In the Kojiki Amaterasu spends her time weaving, and the significance of silkworms and religious ritual is something that Michael Como has explored in Weaving and Binding – Immigrant Gods and Female Immortals in Ancient Japan.

In another of the park’s areas – Kitanaikaku – it is supposed that prayers to ancestors were held. A high priest communed with ancestral spirits and pronounced on matters of state, including setting the dates for important events such as festivals and harvesting. Perhaps it was in just such a village that the famed shaman-queen Himiko lived.

On the roof of religious buildings, as well as on the entrances to the compounds, are wooden bird statues. ‘In the Yayoi period, a bird seems to have been a symbol or God’s messenger that brought spirits of crops and exorcised the evil spirit,’ says the park’s literature.

For me personally the most striking object in the whole complex was the shaman’s pillar standing before the burial mound. Here the ancestral spirits – the kami – would have been drawn down for the embryonic nation’s most important rites. The simple pillar reaching up to the clouds is a forerunner of the shinbashira of Ise and the onbashira pillars of Suwa. The legacy of Japan’s shamanic past is thus built into the very fabric of today’s architecture. Even the way of counting kami is with the word for pillar!