Author: John D. (Page 73 of 202)

Jizo

October 12, 2015 / John D.

Jizo at Jisho-in Jizo is the most widespread deity in Japan, to be seen across the country at crossroads, waysides, cemeteries and elsewhere. A guardian of the dead, he is portrayed in monk’s attire and seen as a guardian of the otherworld who ensures safe crossing, particularly for children. Though it’s customary to think of the deity as purely Buddhist, the passage below from Mark Schumacher’s onmark website shows that there is in fact a strong Shinto component.

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Jizō incorporates many of the functions of Koyasu-sama (aka Koyasu-gami), the Shintō goddess of pregnancy, safe childbirth, and the healthy growth and development of children. Shintō shrines dedicated to Koyasu-sama still exist in modern times. These shrines are known as Asama Shrines (also pronounced Sengen).

Princess Konohanasakuya, patron of safe delivery as well as deity of Mt Fuji and cherry blossom

More than 1,000 Asama (Sengen) shrines exist across Japan, with the head shrines standing at the foot and the summit of Mount Fuji itself. These sanctuaries are dedicated to Koyasu’s namesake, the mythical princess Konohana Sakuya Hime, the Shintō deity of Mount Fuji, of cherry trees in bloom, and the patron of safe delivery.

In Shintō mythology, Konohana (lit = tree flower) is the daughter of Ōyamatsumi (the earthly kami of mountains). She was married to Ninigi (heavenly grandchild of sun goddess Amaterasu), became pregnant in a single night, and gave birth to three children while her home was engulfed in fire — thus her role as the Shintō kami who grants safe childbirth. In some accounts she died in the fire, and thus she is likened to the short-lived beauty of the cherry blossom.

Despite the survival of Shintō’s Koyasu-sama into modern times, she has been largely supplanted by her Buddhist equivalents, known as Koyasu Jizō, Koyasu Kannon, and Koyasu Kishibojin.

<Source: Konohana Sakuya Hime and Koyasu-sama; both from the Kokugakuin University Shintō Encyclopedia >

Jizo in his child-caring capacity

Pagan Britain

October 4, 2015 / John D.

How would those Scottish scenes look if adorned with torii and shrines?

Ring of Brodgar, one of the roughly 1000 stone circles in the British Isles that served as ritual centres

This summer I made a tour around the British Isles and was struck by the pagan resonances with Shinto in many of the country’s features. Sometimes this was to do with the shape of rocks and hillside, sometimes the lay of the land, sometimes a pristine waterfall in a wooded grove. It made me wonder how the country would look if it were adorned with shimenawa and shrines. No rice fields, true enough, but plenty of awesome nature in evidence.

During my stay I happened upon a book by poet and mystic, William Blake, who wrote evocatively of a time in the past when human beings were more open to the Wonder of things. ‘The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and endowing them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations and whatever their enlarged and numerous senses could perceive,’ he wrote in The Marriage of Heaven and Hell (c.1790). Elsewhere in the same book he noted, ‘Thus men forget that All deities reside in the human breast.’

We forget too that Europe was once home to a Shinto-like religion of its own.

In some places there are signs that the old ways are being revived

A pagan head in a garden of Guernsey

Harmony with nature was evident in this tree house in Guernsey

The Skara Brae community of 5000 years ago lived close to the land and practised a form of animism.

Animal abuse

October 2, 2015 / John D.

An article in Japan Today details several traditional practices which involve cruelty to animals. Unfortunately Shinto shrines figure prominently among those holding and defending such practices. A nature religion? Or a religion of Japaneseness which includes the preservation of traditional ways?

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Adapted from Kuchikomi TOKYO —Sep. 30, 2015 Japan Today

In an article timed to coincide with “Be Kind to Animals Week” (Sept 20~27), Jun Mishina writes in Shukan Shincho about how activists are riding roughshod over tradition in order to safeguard the life, liberty and happiness of non-human members of the animal kingdom.

The water basin at Suwa Taisha, where animal sacrifice is still carried out not only in the form of frogs but of deer

In January of this year, the Suwa Grand Shrine in Suwa City, Nagano Prefecture, was beset by placard-bearing protesters, who were upset over a “frog-hunting ceremony”—a 1,000-year-old ritual that calls for capturing amphibians and impaling them with arrows, which are then offered to the gods. Presently, only two frogs are so sacrificed, with the impaling ritual taking place in the shrine’s inner sanctum and not in public. That, however, was enough to infuriate a dozen demonstrators, who disrupted the event with chants of “Cruel! Cruel!”

“What I found most objectionable was the female protester who waded into the Mitarai River and physically attempted to stop parishioners from catching frogs,” Masao Kasahara relates. “The shrine regards the spot in the river as a ‘sacred place’ where even the head priest isn’t permitted to enter. And there was this woman, yelling “Stop that!’ and ‘Don’t kill frogs!’ She was pushing so hard she slipped and fell into the river. That was a huge offense to the gods.”

Another assault on tradition has taken place at freak shows, some of which date back to feudal times. During festivals, people would set up as many as 300 tents on shrine grounds, where rubes could come to gawk at such spectacles as “The Human Pump,” “The Fire-spouting woman” and others. (Tokyoites can still see some of these at the Hanazono Shrine in Shinjuku during the “Tori-no-Ichi festival held every November.) But you’d better go soon, as their next act may be a vanishing act—literally.

The Hakozaki Shrine festival held every September in Fukuoka City has been beset upon by animal rights advocates, vociferously demanding that performances by the “hebi-onna” (snake woman) and “okami-onna” (wolf lady) be halted.

The entrance to Hakozaki Shrine in Fukuoka, where freak shows include biting the heads off snakes

The entrance to Hakozaki Shrine in Fukuoka, where freak shows include biting the heads off chickens and snakes

The demonstrators were particularly incensed by a female geek who would bite the heads off live chickens and snakes. “That poor snake looks pitiful!” a protestor bellowed.

The demonstrators also persuaded two very reluctant patrolmen to accompany them to the venue. “The cops were saying, ‘If we go along, then the incident will be blown up out of proportion,’” said one of the freak show organizers. “Anyway, they did issue a warning to us, saying, ‘You’re not allowed to do anything illegal or you might get arrested.’”

“Nothing ever came to the point that the cops would walk on stage and make an arrest,” he continued. “But after that, we completely stopped using snakes. ‘Why did you stop?’ spectators were asking. But it couldn’t be helped. After that, we just don’t have the heart to keep doing it.”

Animal rights

September 26, 2015 / John D.

As someone distressed by the appalling treatment of animals by human beings (factory farming being the most egregious example), it saddens me that modern Shinto shows so little interest in the subject. Animal guardians serve the kami, and horses act as loyal mounts. Yet there is precious little love expended in return. There are whaling shrines, for instance, where the focus is solely on the safety of the hunters not the hunted. There is a Shinto festival with horrific treatment of horses. And not once have I heard a Shinto spokesman speak out against cruelty to animals, such as the notorious slaughter of dolphins at Taiji.

Sliced fish offerings at Yoshida Jinja in Kyoto

In the past animals such as horses were sacrificed as offerings for the kami. Fish still are, and at Suwa Taisha there’s ritual slaughter of deer. It’s Japan’s other main religion to which one has to turn for evidence of a concern with animal rights. The Buddhist tradition of compassion for living beings has played a significant role in the country’s history and first became evident with a decree by Emperor Temmu in the seventh century.

There will be a Noh play on Oct 3 (14.00 – ) at Kyoto Kanze Kaikan (075 771 6114) which illustrates the profound effect Buddhism had on animal rights. It’s called Utou, or murrelet, and concerns a hunter who imitates the parent bird calling its child and then kills the young. Karma catches up with the cruel hunter, and after his death he is sent to hell where he in turn is tortured by utou and their fellow hawks. He is prevented too from seeing his own child. In the play his ghost asks a travelling monk to pray for him and save him from the torture.

The following account comes from Nipponia no. 36 (March, 2006) and suggests that in the past Shinto’s concern for purity was part of a widespread reluctance to eat meat. It’s the first time I’ve heard of this and I’m uncertain if it’s historically accurate. If it is, then there’s clear precedence for the encouragement of vegetarianism.

The first law prohibiting meat eating was issued in the year 675, a little more than 100 years after the arrival of Buddhism. In the 7th and 8th centuries, when a new emperor came to the throne he would issue an Imperial edict forbidding meat consumption. This was because, according to Buddhist belief, killing animals is wrong. The fact that these edicts were issued from time to time indicates that some found it hard to give up eating meat. But by around the 10th century just about everyone had stopped eating it.

A white rooster at Ise Jingu, safe from carnivores, serves as an attendant to Amaterasu

In China and the Korean peninsula, the Buddhist clergy were not allowed to eat meat or fish, but in Japan even ordinary people did not eat meat. This was partly because of Buddhism, and partly because the indigenous religion, Shinto, considered that eating the flesh of animals was unclean.

But the rule extended only to meat from mammals, not seafood. Whales are mammals, but the common folk thought of them as big fish and there was no prohibition against killing and eating them. Wild birds were also eaten. There was a belief that chickens and roosters were messengers working for the Shinto gods, and their meat and eggs were not eaten until the 15th century.

Living in harmony

In Ghostly Japan (1899), Lafcadio Hearn wrote as follows concerning Buddhist compassion with animals: “This custom of praying for the souls of animals is by no means general. But I have seen in the western provinces several burials of domestic animals at which such prayers were said. After the earth was filled in, some incense-rods were lighted above the grave in each instance, and the prayers were repeated in a whisper. A friend in the capital sends me the following curious information: ‘At the Eko-in temple in Tokyo prayers are offered up every morning for the souls of certain animals whose ihai [mortuary tablets] are preserved in the building. A fee of thirty sen will procure burial in the temple-ground and a short service for any small domestic pet.’ Doubtless similar temples exist elsewhere. Certainly no one capable of affection for our dumb friends and servants can mock these gentle customs.”

Harvest moon

September 26, 2015 / John D.

Moon rising over the Eastern Hills A reminder that tomorrow (Mon 28th) will be the harvest full moon, traditionally celebrated by the Japanese as the most beautiful of the year. There are lots of moon viewing parties, which in the past consisted of poetry making while sipping saké and admiring the reflection in a specially crafted cup. Japanese love of beauty at its best.

Miko doing kagura with sakaki branch

One shrine that puts on a wonderful celebration is Kyoto’s Shimogamo Jinja, with musical performances of koto, shakuhachi and other traditional instruments. In one corner the tea ceremony is put on, sometimes there is a demonstration of junihitoe (twelve-layered kimono) while there is usually a dance performance of some sort too. It’s all tastefully done, and as the moon ascends from behind the trees of the Tadasu Wood there’s a murmur of delight from the assembled throng. One of those magical Japanese moments not to be missed.

Happy harvest moon viewing, one and all!

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Click here for a full account of a previous full moon festival at Shimagamo Shrine, or here for an account of a different year.
There’s also a previous description of the harvest moon festival at Kamigamo Shrine.

Shimogamo full moon

Hata pt 7: Inari origins

September 25, 2015 / John D.

Fushimi Inari is of such importance that an understanding of its role is essential for anyone interested in Japanese religion and culture. Unusually amongst the major shrines, its kami is not an ancestor or relative of the emperor. It’s rather an animistic deity, to do with rice and food (and by extension business). The passage below is interesting for the light it casts on the origin of the shrine and the etymology of the word Inari (derived apparently from inenari, becoming rice). The extract is taken from the sixth chapter of Bruno Lewin’s Aya und Hata Bevolkerungsgruppen: Altjapans kontinentaler Herkunf (1962), translated by Richard Payne with Ellen Rozett.

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One of the most wide-sweeping impacts on folk Shinto was the Inari cult initiated by the Hata, which consists of the worship of the deities of the crops. The point of origin of the cult was the Inari Shrine, in the Kii District of Yamashiro and situated in the territory of the old royal domain of Fukakusa. Concerning the establishment of this shrine, the Yamashiro-fudoki reports:

Hata no Kimi Irogu, a distant ancestor of Hata-no-Nakatsue no Imiki, had amassed rice and possessed overflowing wealth. When he made a target (for archery) from pounded rice, this transformed itself into a white bird, which flew up and alighted atop a mountain. There it again became rice and grew upward. Inenari (“becoming rice”) is given therefore as the shrine’s name.”‘

Guardian fox, holding the key to the granary. Fox clans are not uncommon among the shamanic tribes of East Asia.

In addition the Jingi-shiryo clarifies this, saying that Irogu, moved by this wonder, in the fourth year of Wado (711) erected a shrine there and worshipped the transformed rice plant, on account of which the shrine was called Inari (inenari). Accordingly, the shrine is of a comparatively late date, though there can be no doubt that the Hata as long-standing cultivators of rice had long possessed the cultic worship of the rice gods, but now mixed with the cult of Inari shrine worship of the Japanese food deity Ukemochi-no-kami.

In the Inari shrine the deities Uka-no-mitama-no-kami, Saruka-biko-no-kami and Omiya-no-me-no-mikoto are worshipped. Uka-no-mitama is the main deity of the shrine, identical with Ukemochi.

During the middle ages, the worship of the rice and food deities in the Inari cult spread over the whole of Japan. One can still count about 1,500 Inari shrines, most of them small fields and village shrines, in which the fox, whom one frequently comes across in the fields, is also worshipped, either as messenger of the deity or even as an incarnation [or the deity] itself.

The Inari shrine of Fukakusa is considered to be the mother shrine of all of these cultic sites. Its priesthood descended without exception from the prosperous Hata families of the surrounding area. From the Heian era the priests have borne the status name of Hata no Sukune. Gradually there separated out from amongst them more branch families: the Nakatsue, Nakatsuse, Onshi, Matsumoto, Haraigawa, Yasuda, Toriiminami and Mori.

The subshrine at Fushimi Inari dedicated to the Hata clan ancestral spirits

The Inari shrine forms a triangle with the shrines of Kamo and Matsuno’o, in the middle of which was placed the final capital, Heian kyo. All three cultic sites enjoyed the support of the Imperial palaces and were visited in the course of history again and again by individual emperors to venerate the divinities there.

The integration of the Hata with the history of these powerful shrines shows what a prominent position they possessed in the territory around Heian kyo. We can well assume that Kammu-tenno, in shifting the capital, allowed himself to be guided by the effort to remove himself from the immediate of the Yamato aristocracy and to lean instead on the rich and loyal, though politically unambitious, Hata clans.

Priests at Fushimi

Trees of life

September 23, 2015 / John D.

DSCN0390 The following passage in praise of trees comes from Herman Hesse’s Baume: Betrachtungen und Gedichte (Trees: Reflections and Poems), 1984. It’s a beautiful piece of writing that speaks of a connection to the natural world and the happiness that comes from feeling at home in the universe.

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For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves.

Womb of life

Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

Restoring the natural order at Angkor Wat

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. . . . Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.