Buddhist priests outnumber their Shinto counterparts – and historically they held more authority

A book I came across recently (Visions of Power, Imagining Medieval Japanese Buddhism) discusses the attitude of early monks to the kami.  By and large, the Buddhists saw themselves as possessing greater power through the truth of their teaching. Though their attitude was largely one of respect and devotion, there are many legends of monks converting local gods to Buddhism, in return for which they are allowed to establish monasteries and granted protection.  In some cases the monks actually punish the kami for not carrying out their role of protector properly.

Gohei offering in a Tendai temple

At one time there was hostility among kami supporters to the imported religion, but this was soon suffused into mutual recognition.  A famous medieval account tells how Emperor Shomu asked the Buddhist priest, Gyoki, to offer a relic of the Buddha at Ise.  On the seventh day after the offering, the voice of Amaterasu was heard to say that thanks to the monk’s devotion she had just achieved salvation.  Thereafter the emperor dreamt that Amaterasu was none other than the Buddhist deity, Dainichi (literally, Great Sun).

A later Buddhist sect, Zen, became associated with Sugawara no Michizane, who was one of the last to go to China to study in Heian times.  The Chan master Wuzhun Shifan (1177-1249) is said to have transmitted his patriarchal robe to Michizane, who posthumously became the kami Tenjin.  Like other kami, Sugawara’s spirit was integrated into Zen as a protector of temples, though it was thought he needed Buddhist instruction to achieve true enlightenment.

Enni Ben’en, founder of Tofuku-ji, was visited by Michizane in a dream and told to go to China to study meditation.  He did, spending six years there and returning to spread Zen in Kyushu (he also  brought back noodles, namely udon).

Hachiman dressed as a Buddhist priest in search of enlightenment

In China the three teachings were of Buddhism, Confucianism and Daoism.  In Japan Daoism was replaced with its local equivalent, Shinto.  The worship of kami by Buddhist priests has been viewed as a ‘skillful means’ by which to achieve their ends.  Some believed they were ‘masters of the kami’, while others may have been agnostic (as are many today, calling themselves ritualists rather than believers).  Nonetheless the legacy is clear.

As I’ve come to see on my round of Zen temples, far from ‘Nothingness’ the Zen imagination is peopled by a populous universe.  As if the eight myriad kami of Japan were not enough, temple statues include a whole range of deities drawn China and India, ranked into four groupings:

•  Enlightened beings known as Nyorai (historical Buddha i.e. Shakyamuni, Amida Nyorai, Dainichi Nyorai, Yakushi Myorai).  .
•  Boddhisattvas (bosatsu in Japanese), notably Kannon, Jizo and Miroku
• Myoo (Fudo Myoo being the most common)
• Protectors known as -ten, such as Bishamonten, Marisihiten, Benzaiten

In a reversal of what one might expect, the native kami were ranked below the imported deities in shinbutsu-shugyo syncretism.  The kami were already part of the spiritual landscape, so they had to be fitted in somehow.  Only by becoming Buddhist could they advance, one of the most famous cases being Hachiman bosatsu (a kami-cum-Bodhisattva).  No wonder that in Yoshida Kanetomo (1435-1511)  a counter-movement arose to reverse the order and assert kami as superior to Buddhas by dint of being Japanese.  The nationalist line was taken up by Motoori Morinaga and the Nativists of the eighteenth century.  It’s a legacy which is still being played out today.

Yoshida Shrine in Kyoto, which led the fight-back against Buddhist domination

Hanging monkeys at Yasaka Koshindo temple

This being the Year of the Monkey in the Chinese Zodiac, shrines and temples with monkey associations attract a lot of visitors and put on special events.  I recently visited one in Kyoto I hadn’t come across before, Yasaka Koshindo, famous for its ‘hanging monkey’ (kukurizaru).  It’s basically a small temple compound, dominated by a central hall filled with cloth hangings (see above).  These didn’t look like monkeys to me, but the receptionist explained that the monkey was hanging by all four limbs, with its head in the middle.

Four limbs tied up, with the monkey head in the middle

The temple belongs to the very syncretic Koshin faith, which was once a popular folk belief into which oral tradition was mixed with elements from Confucianism, Daoism, Buddhism and Shinto.  Apparently it was suppressed in Meiji times as a form of superstition by a modernising regime eager not to look ‘primitive’ to the eyes of the West.

According to the temple leaflet, Koshin-san has an angry face because he abhors bad people and wishes to help them become better.  Accordingly those who put their bad desire into the hanging monkey and leave it suspended will be relieved. Whenever a person feels desire coming on, they should remember the angry face of Koshin and control their desire like a hanging monkey whose hands and feet are tied together.  In other words, desire can be tied up and ended thanks to the beneficence of Koshin-san.

The temple also features on its incense holder the 3 Monkeys from Nikko who don’t speak, see or hear.  They can be seen in front of the Main Hall, in which I attended a gomaki ritual, clearly Shingon in style to judge from the dramatic hand gestures during the sutra chanting.  The altar figure was the blue-skinned Shomen Kongo, before whom prayer sticks were ritually burnt, each one bearing the name and age of a worshipper which rose up to the deity on a wave of smoke.

It was the first time for me to come across this once popular sect, but it felt fortuitous given the year.  Monkeys feature prominently in Kyoto, since the deity of sacred Mt Hiei is served by monkey messengers and there are several shrines with monkey guardians (see for instance Sarutahiko Jinja). Judging by Yasaka Koshindo, the animal provides inspiration to ‘hang on in there’ during the year ahead!

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To learn all about the religious significance of monkeys in Japan, including Koshin faith, see these pages in Mark Schumacher’s photo dictionary.

Gomaki ritual held in the main hall

Tying up desire and leaving it suspended induces a sense of lightness

Incense holder held up by the Three Monkeys, who are Mizaru (no see), Kikazaru (no hear), and Iwazaru (no speak).

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For photos and explanation of a Koshin Shrine in Fukuoka, click here.

Zen painting at Kennin-ji

Three basic shapes beloved of humans, no doubt for their simplicity, are the square, circle and triangle.  “Man is symbolized by three elements, one on top of another: pyramid—square— circle,” said Zoroaster.

In his book Kami no Michi Yukitaka Yamamoto, the 96th hereditary priest of Tsubaki Shrine in Mie Prefecture, wrote: “The Principle of ‘Sanmi–Sangen‘ explains the mystery of life. Sanmi–Sangen means the three elements that constitute the basis of all forms of existence. These basic symbols both explain the meaning of and guide the destiny of human life. We can see Sanmi–Sangen operate at many levels.”

I’m unable to identify where the Sanmi-Sangen theory originated from, but the founder of aikido, Ueshiba Morihei, put forward similar ideas:

“The body should be triangular, the mind circular. The triangle represents the generation of energy and is the most stable physical posture. The circle symbolizes serenity and perfection, the source of unlimited techniques. The square stands for solidity, the basis of applied control.”

If you check out this page, you can see all kinds of attributes have been allocated to the three shapes, including (oddly to my mind) the suggestion that the square stands for the Sun God Amaterasu, the circle for the Moon God Tsukuyomi no Mikoto, and the triangle for the God of the Stars, Susanoo-no-Mikoto.

Interestingly, a garden in the Zen monastery of Kennin-ji claims to be based on the square, circle, triangle motif.  An accompanying notice says it is based on work by Sengai Gibon (1750 – 1837) [see left].  “One of his famous paintings,” says Wikipedia, “shows a circle, a square and a triangle. Sengai left the painting without a title or inscription (save for his signature), however the painting is often called “The Universe” when referred to in English.”

The painting has long puzzled people. The ink tones vary from grey to black, and the three shapes overlap as if to suggest interconnection between them.  D.T. Suzuki, who introduced Zen to the West, interpreted Sengai’s painting to represent formlessness and infinity, in accord with his view of emptiness as the essence of enlightenment. (See here for his interpretation.)

So it would appear that Ueshiba took his idea from Zen.  And when you look closer at Ueshiba’s thought, it is striking how close to the thinking of Zen it is.  Suppress the ego. Discipline your mind.  Understand the oneness of all things. Get back to basic purity (or in Zen terms Buddha nature).

It’s often said that Ueshiba derived his thinking from Omoto-kyo.  I can’t help feeling that, as with other martial arts, Zen was a strong influence too.  Or perhaps it’s simply the case that in the strongly syncretic world of Japanese religion it’s sometimes impossible to separate the strands.

The square, triangle, circle garden at Kennin-ji. While the circle and square are evident, the triangle consists of a wedge at the far end made out of a raised bed of raked gravel (barely visible here).