Author: John D. (Page 188 of 202)

Himukai Daijingu (The Kyoto Ise)

Procession of priests up to a waiting throng of photographers

Last weekend was the Kannamesai at Ise Jingu, often called its harvest festival.  It’s their major event of the year, and I thought about going but found everything was booked.  Then I heard that if you couldn’t visit Ise itself, you could visit “the Kyoto Ise” – Himukai Daijingu.  It honours Amaterasu, is modelled on Ise architecture, and has a major festival to coincide with the Kannamesai.  It’s even got an Inner Shrine (Naiku) and an Outer Shrine (Geku), just like the real thing, and there is a special ‘worship from afar’ spot directed towards Ise.  Perfect!  No need to travel at all…

The inauspicious entrance to the shrine. Yet once you ascend the stairway, there are hills of wooded charm.

The Himukai rituals are spread over two days. The first day is for the Outer Shrine, the second for the Inner.  I went on the second day, made a bit more special by the performance of a kagura sacred dance. There were nine ritualists in all (five of whom performed gagaku music) plus about 100 onlookers, including, I imagine, a fair few parishioners though photographers were dominant. These days Shinto’s a spectacle even for Japanese.

The purification rites took place in the courtyard area, before the formal procession up the steps to a clearing before the Inner Shrine.  As well as the usual waving of a tamagushi, the purification involved a symbolic sprinkling of sacred water – which reminded me of Siberian shaman practice.

Head priest in red (guji) and daughter (gon-guji) line up to be purified by sakaki branch and water sprinkling, together with the gagaku musicians

 

At the start of the ritual the head priest entered the Naiku compound, from where three hauntingly long wails announced the kami oroshi (descent of the kami). During the rituals I couldn’t help but notice the different angles people struck when bowing in respect. A photographer near me bent over at a dramatic ninety-degree angle, perfectly executed, while others inclined slightly or simply lowered their heads. Even the priests struck different angles…

The sacred dance was by an elderly male, with steps and poses suggestive of Noh. It was the same nincho no mai dance as that performed at Ise, so my train fare was well saved.  The performer had a sakaki branch with a white circular hoop attached to it – symbol of the sun, I wondered?

Afterwards we lined up to enter the inner compound and offer a sakaki branch (tamagushi). It felt a bit special, because entering the inner compound is very much off limits at Ise.  Another bonus to staying in Kyoto.

Kagura performer, facing the audience rather than the kami for a brief moment

Priest handing out the sakaki offerings to us as we entered into the compound housing the kami

 

 

 

 

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Ancient rites
autumnal sunshine –
music for the gods
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I got a chance later to speak with the guji, who claimed the shrine was founded 1500 years ago and was one of the oldest in the Kyoto basin.  (The shrine brochure makes the extravagant assertion it’s the very oldest of all.  According to legend, Amaterasu’s soul leapt here from Mt Takachiho during the reign of Emperor Kenzou in the fifth century.  )  He also told me he’d never seen the goshintai (kami spirit-body), but presumed it was a mirror as at Ise. His daughter, who offered the omiki (sacred saké) to participants at the end, is going to take over the shrine in accord with the traditional hereditary principle (another shamanistic influence).  The shrine was burnt in the Onin War, rebuilt in Edo times and became famous for road safety as it was near the Tokaido route to Edo (the shrine stands near Keage where horses were left when entering Kyoto).  It was at this time too that it became known as a local substitute for Ise.

The future head priest serving omiki (saké). Always a nice way to finish off a ritual...

 

Finally I asked about the name of the shrine. Himukai, the head priest said, was named ‘Sun-facing’ because it was aligned towards the south, i.e. towards the sun. But why Daijingu, I persisted? Jngu is used for shrines with imperial connections while the ‘Dai’ suggests something big and important, though the far grander model on which it’s based is only known as Ise Jingu.  By way of reply, the head priest gave a wry smile: ‘Wakarimasen,’ (I don’t know) he said with a shrug. Some things in Shinto are just meant to be a mystery!

A walk in the woods

The surrounds of Himukai are rather delightful.  There are subshrines scattered around the hillside, one of which is for love connections (enmusubi).  Instead of ema (votive tablets), you write your requests on small saucers. There’s also an Ise ‘worship from afar spot’ (youhaisho) marked by a torii facing towards the south-east.

Requests at the enmusubi sub-shrine

Worshipping Ise from afar

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Like other places associated with Amaterasu, there’s a Heavenly Rock Cave in the surrounds. It’s the Shinto equivalent of the Lourdes grotto, which gets replicated at Catholic churches. Here there’s a disappointing passage between rocks, lacking any numinous quality at all though it’s listed among the trendy ‘Power Spots’ of Kyoto. Far better is the walk through the woods to the Zen temple of Nanzenji, where the blessings of nature are readily apparent in the verdant surrounds. It’s a charming part of Kyoto. I shall make a pilgrimage to this ‘little Ise’ more often in future…

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Thinking of Basho
One foot after another:
Listen! The crickets…
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The wordless way connecting Shinto and Zen

 

Hata 6) Matsuo Taisha

1) Origins

Kyoto’s oldest shrine?  It’s been battling that out with Kamigamo Jinja for some time now.

The Matsuo area was a stronghold of the Hata clan, the Kamigamo area that of the Kamo.  The two clans were settled in the Kyoto basin by the fifth century, with the Hata worshipping their tutelary kami on Mt Matsuo and the Kamo on Mt Koyama.  One of the kami descended into a sacred rock, the other a sacred tree.  With the arrival of Buddhism in the sixth century, the idea of housing deities spread through Japan.  Could not kami be honoured in similar manner?  Shrine buildings were put up, and Matsuo Taisha was founded at the foot of Mt Matsuo in 701.

The Hata are said to have immigrated from Korea around the turn of the fourth and fifth centuries.  With them they brought all kinds of continental skills, including silk-weaving and large-scale earth moving, such as irrigation works.  In this way they amassed wealth and prestige, and they were instrumental in Kammu’s choice of Kyoto as his new capital in 794 for they not only provided him with the land but the expertise in laying out the terrain and redirecting the rivers.

The ancient water courses that cross the shrine bear testimony to the skills of the Hata.  They’re a fascinating clan, and I feel strangely drawn to them.  They were not only responsible for setting up Matsuo, but Fushimi Inari (711) and the Buddhist temple of Koryuji (622).  There’s fanciful speculation on the internet about them being of middle eastern origins, even Jewish, and of bringing Nestorian Christianity to Japan.  Be that as it may, they were instrumental in shaping Kyoto and I hope to do a special on them soon when I go to visit their small Kaiko no Yashiro (Silkworm Shrine) in west Kyoto.

The water basin at Matsuo

2) Turtles and saké

Waterfall of the sacred turtle

Matsuo is full of turtles.  Why?  It’s said the shrine’s founder, Hata no Imikitori, was walking round the grounds one day when he came upon a turtle basking at a waterfall.  He took it as a good omen, for turtles symbolise longevity, and he named the nearby well as ‘kame no i‘ (tortoise well).  Its water is said to prolong life and stop saké from souring.  Now there are turtles at every water basin.  There’s a small Waterfall of the Sacred Turtle behind the shrine, too.

Apart from turtles, Matsuo is noted for saké.  What do turtles and saké have in common?  Yes, water.  The quality of the crystal-clear water trickling down from the sacred mount behind the shrine was conducive to saké making, and the shrine developed a reputation in similar manner to the way that medieval monasteries were known for the beer they brewed.  Now saké companies patronise the shrine, and there’s a saké festival every year on the October national holiday.

Offerings of saké

The shrine capitalises on the saké theme witih
a special fortune telling method which is fun. You fire off your arrow at empty saké barrels and where you hit determines what you receive.  Games like this are often found at shrines, a degeneration of ancient fortune-telling techniques used in shamanism when knowing the future was deadly serious.

The ema (votive tablets) are in the shape of rice paddles (shamoji), used in the brewing process.  Ema started off with a horse motif, since horses were intermediaries with the spirit world.  Here the horse picture has been transformed into a different medium of contacting the ‘spirit world’!

Rice paddles (used in saké brewing)

 

Firing off a fortune-telling arrow

 

3) Physical kami

Kami are without form or substance.  That’s what makes them pure pureness.  Yet Matsuo has three wooden representations of its kami.  How come?  Again it’s all about the influence of Buddhism.  Seeing the glorious artwork involved in representations of Buddhist deities made Shintoists wonder if they could not do the same.

The Matsuo statues date from the tenth century and are amongst the oldest of their kind.  They are presumed to represent the two original kami (the male Oyamagui and the female Nakatsushimahime), plus a third that was added later and enshrined separately, Tsukuyomi.  The latter, a personification of the moon, is the brother of Amaterasu.  I guess he could even be considered a twin since in mythology he appeared out of one eye of Izanagi while the sun goddess appeared out of the other.  Two celestial eyes, I guess you could say, which mirror each other.

The sun goddess went on to radiant glory, but the moon deity – how shall I put it? – was plunged into relative darkness. Given the Japanese cult of the moon (haiku, symbol of enlightenment, moon-viewing parties,
Tanizaki’s praise of darkness and ‘Shadows’), it’s perplexing how rarely Tsukuyomi is honoured at Shinto shrines.  How intriguing!  The only explanation I’ve come across is that while Amaterasu was adopted as tutleary kami by the ruling Yamato clan, Tsukuyomi was patronised by a clan which passed into obscurity.  So why would the Hata have added him to their pantheon?  Mmm… something I’ll have to go back and ask the priests about…


Greenwash, or genuine?

The Association of Shrines put out a video in 2009 about human connectedhess with the environment.   A woman dressed in white wanders through unspoilt nature with a voiceover that talks of the interconnectedness of life and the need for gratitude.  it’s cute in the way Japanese appreciate.  Nice, you might say.  But is it genuine concern, or is it ‘greenwashing’?

The rising sun connects us all

Here’s the interesting thing: when you get to the end of the video, there’s nothing about asking people to get involved in protecting the environment, something sorely needed in Japan.  There’s not even a hint of the terrible environmental degradation done to Japan by the Concrete State.  No, there’s rather someone placing an ofuda in a single kamidana holder for Amaterasu.  Why?

it’s all part of a massive Jinja Honcho campaign to promote Ise Jingu for its imperial primacy.  It’s Amaterasu the ancestor of the emperor, not Amaterasu the sun that shines on everyone, that is the concern here.  Breen and Teeuwen write: “The National Association of Shrines idealizes the prewar principle that shrines are ultiimately of imperial Japan, not of the local community…   This is apparent in the imperial rites and prayers demanded of NAS priests, and the special position occupied by the Ise Shrines…” (A New History, p. 202)

In this way it could be said that Jinja Honcho is using an environmental pitch to promote its own imperial ends. Green Shinto by contrast believes in a grassroots environmentalism, where concerns at a local level are the focus.  Amaterasu the sun goddess, not Amaterasu the imperial ancestor, would be the guiding spirit.  A truly international and inclusive spirit.

Take a look at the video and see for yourself what you think…

Kasagake (horse archery) at Kamigamo

Today is the third Sunday in October, and at Kamigamo that means just one thing: Kasagake.

Galloping archer preparing to shoot at a target

 

There were traditionally three styles of horseback archery carried out for the entertainment of the kami. The most well-known is Yabusame, in which galloping riders shoot at a fixed target. Much rarer is Kasagake, which is performed this Sunday at Kamigamo Jinja. The other style involved firing at live dogs: thank goodness, it’s gone out of fashion!

There is mention of Kasagake being carried out at Kamigamo Shrine some eight hundred years ago. Previously it had simply been a martial art, designed to improve battle skills. Legend has it that it began with Emperor Jimmu who used his helmet as a target. It was adapted as a shrine entertainment, and then died out.

In 2004 Kamigamo revived the ritual, and it is carried out by the Takeda-ryu school of horseback archers. Among the riders are descendants of the Kamo clan, who settled the Kyoto basin in pre-Heian times. The event begins and ends with the banging of a drum, following which a procession of colourfully costumed officials gather for a purification ceremony. The head rider then performs a Heaven and Earth ritual, by circling his horse first to the left and then to the right to summon yin-yang forces, before aiming a symbolic arrow upwards and downwards to ward off evil spirits.

The entry procession

Aiming at the ground in the opening Heaven and Earth ritual


 

There are ten riders in all, separated into two groups. Unusually for such an event there are women riders and the order of the riders is decided by lottery. On the first run through the riders fire at three targets at shoulder height. On the return run they fire at two targets set near the ground. The number of hits is recorded and announced over the tannoy. Once the results are in, the best five are put through into a second round, when the targets get smaller. Amazingly, this means that at a fairly high speed they fire at something little bigger than a saucer.

Deer-skinned riders choosing their order by lottery

Inui Mitsutaka

 

As part of the shrine’s outreach to foreigners, it provides an English-language commentary along with the Japanese, performed by Inui Mitsutaka who worked for a while with the International Shinto Foundation in New York.

There’s much in the event that tells of the values of Shinto. The celebration of tradition. The entertainment for ancestral deities. The treasuring of skill and precision. Confucian and Taoist influences are evident, while the white horse on display brings to mind the importance of the animal as an emissary of the kami. They say Buddhism in Japan is a religion of the living concerned with death. Shinto on the other hand focuses on dead spirits but is concerned with life. Here in the galloping horses is a case in point.

The festival begins at 13.00.  Details about the shrine and how to reach it can be found at http://www.kamigamojinja.jp/english/index.html  Tel 075-781-0011  Fax 075-702-6618.  Nice short video of the event here,

 

Parade of the participants

 

Kamigamo is one of the few shrines left to keep a white horse, which is only displayed on holidays and festivals. Here it greets its fans.

 

Dutch celebrations

There’s a report of the Dutch Shinzen Foundation’s 30th anniversary celebration up on the following webpage:

http://www.shinto.nl/30_years_shinto_europe.htm

There’s also a video showing the very fine ritual put on by Paul de Leeuw, complete with a trio of gagaku musicians and a miko with a splendid headdress.  Green Shinto even gets a mention in one of the speeches!

Paul de Leeuw in priestly garb

quote from the site:
“30 Years Shinto in Europe In 1981 the Holland Yamakage Shinto Foundation was founded in Amsterdam. Between 1979 and1981 drs Paul de Leeuw studied at the Yamakage Shinto School Kireigu, Hamamatsu-shi, Shizuoka-ken, Japan.In April 1981 he returned to Holland with the official license to perform Shinto ceremonies. In 1991 the Foundation built a Shinto shrine and dojo in the Vierwindenhuis, Amsterdam. After the celebration of the 400 Years Friendship between Japan and the Netherlands in 2000 the Foundation changed its name into Japanese Dutch Shinzen Foundation in order to emphasize the cultural exchange between both countries. Shinzen means: friendship. Thousands of people have come to the dojo and shrine and have experienced the energy of universal shinto. The Dutch Shinto-master has performed traditional Japanese ceremonies for Japanese companies all over Europe. Many Japanese families have found their way to the Shinto shrine in Holland to celebrate shichi-go-san [7-5-3], hatsumiyamairi [first shrine visit for babies] and hatsumode [New Year]. Since 2006 Hatsumode is celebrated in a temporary shrine in Hotel Okura Amsterdam.”

 

 

Aike Rots: Shinto and environmentalism

Let me briefly introduce myself first. My name is Aike Rots. I have BA degrees in Japanese Studies and Comparative Religion from the University of Leiden in the Netherlands. Afterwards, I followed the MA program in Japanese Religions at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London. Last year, I started my work as a PhD candidate under Mark Teeuwen at the University of Oslo in Norway (see my profile). I am currently spending a couple of months in Kyoto in order to conduct interviews, collect materials and attend events.

In my PhD research I am trying to ‘map’ the variety of definitions and conceptualisations of Shinto that exist, and analyse the contemporary discourse on Shinto and ecology. I believe that the image of Shinto John is advocating on this weblog – green, pluralist and internationally oriented – has gained significant popularity in recent years. As such, this weblog represents an important contemporary development in Shinto.

Does nature worship lead to nature protection?

‘Shinto’ is, I believe, an abstraction – an ideological construction, projected upon actual places and practices. That does not make it less real, of course – concepts such as ‘religion’ and ‘society’ are also abstract categories, yet they are very real as they structure our thought and policies.  It means that abstract notions considering the essence of Shinto do not necessarily correspond to the concrete concerns, beliefs and practices of local priests and practitioners. Accordingly, rather than trying to come up with an alternative definition myself, I will try to give an overview of the various existing definitions, and analyse ways in which they relate. If you are interested in this topic, have a look at this blogpost.

While taking into account historical factors, my research has a strong contemporary focus. Until recently, most research on Shinto and kami worship focused on their development in Japanese history. The postwar period, however, received little scholarly attention. This seems to be gradually changing. In fact, in the past sixty-five years shrine Shinto has gone through some significant changes. One of these is the reinvention of Shinto as an ancient, primordial tradition of nature worship and animism – and, accordingly, the assertion that Shinto worldviews and practices are fundamentally ecologically friendly, and may even be employed as a blueprint for new environmental ethics.

Some critics have argued that such ideas are little more than PR, and pointed to the lack of any significant attention to environmental problems on the part of the Shinto establishment. Their critique is certainly justified, yet it is an undeniable fact that in recent years more and more attention is paid to Shinto, nature and environmental preservation – if only in academic discourse.

Shinto environmentalist paradigm

In Japan, the ‘Shinto environmentalist paradigm’ has been developed by scholars from a variety of disciplines. They include Shinto scholars Sonoda Minoru and Ueda Masaaki, philosopher Umehara Takeshi, ecologist Miyawaki Akira, architect Ueda Atsushi and religious studies scholar Yamaori Tetsuo, among others. These men argue that ancient Japanese society developed ways to live in harmony with nature, which have been largely forgotten in the modern period; thus, much of their work is characterised by a nostalgic longing for this ancient past.

Aerial view of Shimogamo's green surrounds

Central to their ideas is the notion of chinju no mori: sacred shrine forests, which supposedly have been preserved for many centuries. Accordingly, rather than engaging with abstract issues such as pollution, climate change or deforestation in foreign countries, most environmentalist practices by shrine priests and organisations focus on the preservation of local chinju no mori. Several projects have been developed to protect these, and contribute to environmental awareness among visitors. High-profile examples include Tadasu no Mori Zaidan, affiliated with Shimogamo Jinja in Kyoto, and NPO Hibiki, affiliated with Meiji Jingū in Tokyo. Meanwhile, much necessary expertise on forest preservation and ecology is shared by the umbrella organisation Shasō Gakkai, by means of forestry trainings and symposiums.

In the following two months, I hope to be able to collect more data by interviewing shrine priests, visit chinju no mori, and learn about shrine projects. I am sure there are many more local initiatives, with which I am not yet familiar. I welcome any comments or suggestions; feel free to send me an email (aikerots[at]gmail.com) any time. You can also follow my experiences on my bilingual weblog, which I try to update regularly – although I am not as prolific a blogger as John.

Mt Matsuo’s rocks and roots

Rocks....

and roots

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All hail to Emperor Kammu!  When he founded Heian-kyo (Kyoto) in 794, he took note of the surrounding hills. ‘The mountains and rivers are the collar and belt of this area, and make it a natural fortress,’ he observed.

Some of the surrounding hills held sacred sites, where the tutelary kami of existing clans had been worshipped from prehistoric times.  One such was Mt Miwa on the western fringe, where the immigrant Hata tribe had settled in the fourth or fifth century.  The sacred rock on the hill was the focus of their clan rites, just as Omiwa was for the Yamato clan.  Only much later, in 701, did they build Matsuo Taisha at the foot of the mount.

Mt Matsuo's sacred rock

 

From rock to shrine is the general pattern of Shinto development.  Personally, I’m a rock fan.  Roots and rocks are the raw essence of Shinto,  and getting back to basics is what it’s all about.  On Mt Miwa there’s a real sense of journeying back to the source.

Self-purification before the pilgrim's progress

The hill isn’t well-known or well-worn, no doubt because it costs Y1000 for the 30 minute ascent.  For this you get the soul-warming attire of a pilgrim’s sash.  Also your name, address and tel. no. are recorded, in addition to which you get a detailed map as if you’re on a dangerous mountain hike.  It seems that some folk wander off into the woods and join forever the realm of the kami.

The ascent is through the kind of attractive woods that make walking in Japanese hills a sensory delight.  Snarled old branches; twisted roots; the trickling of mountain fresh streams.  Two or three strategically placed torii frame magical openings. Haiku about the spirit of place are pinned on trees.

 

The evening clouds
bring deepening darkness:
Ah, Mt Matsuo!

– Fujiwara Korekata

One part of the track leads to the source of the stream that provides the clear water for which Matsuo Shrine is famous (it’s known for its saké connections).  Another part of the track leads past oddly shaped objects and a spectacular view over Kyoto basin. What on earth are those objects?  Or are they objets….?

It turns out they’re bottomless saké buckets for throwing clay tiles through.  The idea is that the tiles carry your innermost hopes with them. Should they fly through the holes, your wish will come true.  You get a pack of five for Y200.  I’m expecting good news about two of my wishes soon!

At the top of the hill stands a looming, atmospheric rock, or clump of rocks.  It’s big, mighty, and craggy.  You know as soon as it appears that this is the sacred rock, for it has an unmistakable sense of presence. Stood at the shimenawa rope before it, you can’t help but be drawn back to the fourth century and a time of shamanic possession when in the dark of the woods the spirit force was summoned to take possession.

Later, back at the shrine, an eighty-year old guide in the museum pointed out in a photograph that the kami could be seen in the rock face, in the form of their eyes, nose and mouth.

If you look hard enough, you can see faces in the sacred rock

 

I’ve been sixteen years in Kyoto, but this is the first time for me to visit Mt. Matsuo. It won’t be the last. This little climb transports one in a matter of minutes to another world from that of the concrete waste below. Taken overall, you could say in fact that Mt Matsuo truly rocks!

Ascending Mt Matsuo

 

The way back home

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