Author: John D. (Page 95 of 202)

Pantheist reading list

October 5, 2014 / John D.

Trees of life

Animism, shamanism, pantheism… at the core of each is a realisation of something deeper than the material world. Shinto embraces animism and shamanism: is it pantheistic too?

The Shinto Online Network Association, run by shrine priests, has this to say: “Shinto is not pantheism which sees all the existence on this world as Kami itself.” In other words, kami exist outside the world as we know it, though they may descend into it. Thus certain features of the earth are divine, rather than the entire world. As the site says, “Shinto does not impersonate nor divinize nature itself, which is the physical existence that works according to its own system. Shinto considers that people feel awe to some natural elements which have especially great influence to human life, and worship their spirituality and pray for their blessing.”

Yet though Shinto may not be a pantheist religion, it shares an outlook that has much in common with it. In this respect it may be of interest to readers to see the broad-ranging reading list drawn up by the World Pantheist Movement for its members. These cover Hindu, Taoist and neo-pagan titles, which are close in many instances to the thinking of Shinto.

In the end of course, there are better places to look for ultimate truth than between the covers of a book. “Let nature be your teacher,’ said Wordsworth, and for many of us mountains are a more uplifting presence than any kind of concocted dogma. Nonetheless, as humans we need signposts to guide us on our way, and it may just be that in these books are the pointers we seek to hear the true voice of nature.

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Essential Reading on Pantheism.
Wherever possible cheap recent paperback editions are mentioned. In some cases the US and UK publishers of the same book may be different.

1. Introduction
Harrison, Paul, Scientific Pantheism. Routledge, London and New York, 1994.
Harvey, Graham and Hardman, Charlotte, Paganism Today, Thorsons, London 1996.
Adler, Margot, Drawing Down the Moon, Penguin Books, New York, 1997.

2. History:
Hinduism: Hume, Robert, The Thirteen Principal Upanishads, Oxford University Press (India), 1995.
Edgerton, Franklin, The Bhagavad Gita, Harvard Oriental Series, 1994.
Buddhism: De Bary, William, ed., The Buddhist Tradition, Vintage Books, New York, 1972.
Kalupahana, David, Nagarjuna, State University of New York Press, 1986.
Mookerjee, Ajit and Khanna, Madhu, The Tantric Way, Thames and Hudson, London, 1977.
Cleary, Thomas, The Flower Ornament Scripture, Shambala, Boulder, 1984.
Cleary, Thomas, Entry into the Inconceivable, University of Hawaii Press, Honolulu, 1983.
Chung Yuan, Chang, Original Teachings of Ch’an Buddhism, Grove Press, New York, 1982.
Suzuki, Daisetz, Essays in Zen Buddhism, Grove Press, New York, 1986.
Taoism: Schipper, Kristofer, Taoist Body, University of California Press, Berkeley, 1982.
Wu, John, Tao Teh Ching, Shambala, Boston, 1989.
Palmer, Martin, The Book of Chuang Tzu, Penguin Arkana, London and New York, 1996.
Greece and Rome: Kahn, Charles, The Art and Thought of Heraclitus, Cambridge Uni Press, Cambridge, 1979.
Long, A. A. & Sedley, D. N., eds, The Hellenistic Philosophers, volume 1, Cambridge Uni Press, Cambridge, 1987. Barnes, Jonathan, Early Greek Philosophy, Penguin, London and New York, 1987.
Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Penguin, London and New York, 1969.
Lucretius, On the Nature of the Universe, trs R. E. Latham, Penguin, London and New York, 1994.
Plotinus, The Enneads, ed John Dillon, Penguin, London and New York, 1991.

3. History:
Monotheist and modern Judaism
Cohen, A., Everyman’s Talmud, Schocken Books, New York, 1975
Scholem, Gershom, Kabbalah, Meridian, London and New York, 1974.
Matt, Daniel, The Essential Kabbalah, Castle Books, Edison, 1997.
Islam: Ibn Arabi, The Bezels of Wisdom, SPCK, London, 1980.
Massignon, Louis, Al Hallaj, ed. Herbert Mason, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1994.
Christianity: Meister Eckhart, Selected Writings, tr. by Oliver Davies, Penguin Books, London and New York, 1994.
Jakob Boehme, The Way to Christ, trs w. Zeller, Paulist Press, New York, 1978.
Post-Christian: Bruno, Giordano, Cause, Principle and Unity, ed., Richard Blackwell, C U P, Cambridge, 1998. Spinoza, Benedict, A Spinoza Reader, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1994.
Toland, John, Pantheistikon, London, 1721, and Letters to Serena, London, 1704.
Hegel, Georg, The Philosophy of History, Hackett Publishing Co., 1988.
Wordsworth, William, The Prelude, a Parallel Text, Penguin Books, 1996.
Whitman, Walt, Leaves of Grass, Penguin Books, 1997.
Ernst Haeckel, The Riddle of the Universe, Prometheus Books, Buffalo, 1992.
Robinson Jeffers, The Collected Poetry, Stanford University Press, 1989.
Calaprice, Alice, The Quotable Einstein, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1996.
Lawrence, D. H., The Universe and Me, Henry Taylor, New York, 1935.

4. The Divine Universe
Otto, Rudolf, The Idea of the Holy, trs John Harvey, Oxford University Press, New York, 1968.
Hume, David, Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion, Oxford University Press, New York, 1994.
Hawking, Stephen, A Brief History of Time, Bantam Doubleday Dell, 1998.
Carl Sagan, Pale Blue Dot, Brilliance Corporation, 1994.
Guth, Allan, The Inflationary Universe, Helix Books, 1998.
Smolin, Lee, The Life of the Cosmos, Oxford University Press, 1998.
Per Bak, How Nature Works, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1997.
Dennet, Daniel, Darwin’s Dangerous Idea, Penguin Books, London 1995.
Dawkins, Richard, The Blind Watchmaker, Penguin Books, London, 1988
Barrow, John, & Tipler, Frank, The Anthropic Cosmological Principle, Oxford University Press, 1988.

5. Sacred Nature
Regenstein, Lewis, Replenish the Earth, SCM Press, London, 1991.
McGaa, Ed, Mother Earth Spirituality, Harper San Francisco, 1990.
Miller, Lee, From the Heart: Voices of the American Indian, Vintage Books, 1996.
Lovelock, James, Gaia, Gaia Books, London, 1991.
Goodenough, Ursula, The Sacred Depths of Nature, Oxford University Press, 1998.
Stewart, Ian, Life’s Other Secret, John Wiley, London and New York, 1998.
E. O. Wilson, The Diversity of Life, W. W. Norton, 1993.
Cohen, Michael, Reconnecting with Nature, Project Nature Connect, Friday Harbor, Washington, 1995.
Roszak, Theodore, Ecopsychology, Sierra Club Books, San Francisco, 1995.

6. Ethics.
MacIntyre, Alasdair, A Short History of Ethics, Macmillan, 1966. Singer, Peter, Animal Liberation, Avon Books, 1991. Stone, Christopher, Earth and Other Ethics, Harper & Row, New York, 1987
Leopold, Aldo, A Sand County Almanach, Oxford University Press, New York, 1968.
Sessions, George, ed, Deep Ecology for the 21st Century, Shambala, Boston, 1995.
United Nations, International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, and International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, United Nations, New York, 1966.

7. Ritual, meditation and mysticism.
Ayensu, Edward and Whitfield, Philip, The Rhythms of Life, Marshall Edi- tions, London 1982. Devall, Bill and Sessions, George, Deep Ecology, Peregrine Smith Books, Salt Lake City, 1985.
Ian Hutton, Stations of the Sun, Oxford University Press, Oxford & New York, 1996.
Albery, Nicholas, The Natural Death Handbook, Natural death centre, London, 1997.
Kabat-Zinn, Jon, Full Catastrophe Living, Dell Publishing, New York, 1990.
Woods, Richard, Understanding Mysticism, Image Books, New York, 1980.
Roberts, Elizabeth and Amidon, Elias, Earth Prayers, Harper San Francisco, 1991.
Mosley, Ivo, Earth Poems, Harper San Francisco, 1996.

8. Controversies
Rey, Georges, Contemporary Philosophy of Mind, Blackwell, Oxford, 1997. Churchland, Paul, Matter and Consciousness, MIT Press, Cambridge Massachusetts, 1988.
|Popper, Karl and Eccles, John, The Self and Its Brain, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London and Boston, 1977.
De Chardin, Teilhard, The Phenomenon of Man, Harper Collins, 1975.
Fox, Matthew, Original Blessings, Bear & Company, Santa Fe, 1983.
Head, Joseph and Cranston, Sylvia, The Phoenix Fire Mystery, Point Loma Publications, 1994.
Blackmore, Susan, Dying to Live, Grafton, London, 1993.
Williamson, John B., and Schneidman, Edwin, Death: Current Perspectives, Mayfield Publishing Company, 1995.

Divine nature (courtesy Graham Ranft)

Festival of Ages

October 5, 2014 / John D.

A Hollywood production; a living scroll; an eye-popping kaleidoscope of costumes; a celebration of heritage – Kyoto’s Jidai Matsuri (Festival of Ages) is all this and more. It takes place on Oct 22, and such is the enormity of the event that preparations are already under way.

An article yesterday in the Japan Times brings to light the sheer size of the festival and the elaborate care that goes into the costumes and make-up. The historical pageant is a magnificent tribute to the ancient capital, but what does it have to do with religion? Ah, there’s the rub… It’s a question that brings up the shamanic roots of Shinto and its concern with fostering the cultural heritage of the nation. In celebrating the Festival of Ages, Japanese are celebrating their roots.

As Shinto spreads abroad, it’s an aspect of the religion that is sure to raise some interesting issues. Non-Japanese may wear yukata to carry mikoshi in the style of the Japanese, but whose culture and whose heritage will they be celebrating in their festivals?

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Ladies in medieval-style clothing | by Angeles Marin Cabello

Jidai Matsuri: Sad-eyed lady at the festival of the ages
BY STEVE JOHN POWELL AND ANGELES MARIN CABELLO
SPECIAL TO THE JAPAN TIMES OCT 4, 2014

The young lady sitting on the bench nearby straightens her wig and applies the finishing touches to her makeup — face porcelain-white, lips blood-red and heart-shaped. She is wearing multiple kimono, one on top of the other, and must be boiling. It’s only 10.30 a.m., but already it feels like a stifling 30 degrees Celsius. It may just be my imagination, but her countenance seems to hint at some inner torment. What secret sorrow haunts this sad-eyed lady of the lowlands? The answer is as poignant as it is surprising.

To her right, a couple of men dressed as samurai warriors take off their helmets, sit down and tuck into multicolored bentō (boxed lunches). From time to time their horses whinny with impatience.

All around us, benches are laden with swords, quivers full of arrows, helmets, animal skins and rope sandals. Beyond the benches is a profusion of carts, carriages, large tansu (wooden chests), even a couple of oxen. I feel like we’re on the set of some Cecil B. DeMille historical epic.

(courtesy ishama.com)

In a sense, we are, but this isn’t Hollywood. We’re in the vast gardens of the Imperial Palace in the ancient city of Kyoto, where people are gearing up for the annual Jidai Matsuri — the festival of the ages. Along with the Gion and the Aoi festivals, it’s one of the three most important events in the city’s calendar.

The Jidai Matsuri was first held on Oct. 22, 1895, to inaugurate the completion of the magnificent Heian Shrine and celebrate the 1,100th anniversary of the day when Emperor Kammu entered Kyoto in 794 and established the city as the capital of Japan, back when Kyoto was known as Heian-kyo (literally, “capital of peace and tranquility”).

The shrine was built to worship the deified spirits of both Emperor Kammu, Kyoto’s first emperor (who reigned from 781-806), and Emperor Komei (reigning from 1846-67), the last emperor to sit on the throne in Kyoto before the capital was relocated to Tokyo in 1868, at the start of the Meiji Restoration.

“The people in Kyoto felt sad over the removal of the Emperor at that time,” journalist and Kyoto resident Masahiro Nakata tells me. “This was a nostalgic moment for them.”

Aside from commemorating the building of Heian Shrine, the Jidai Matsuri was also conceived as a morale-booster to raise the spirits of the people, still dejected after having their capital city status and Imperial Court taken away. The matsuri thus became a celebration of Kyoto’s glorious heritage, with participants in the parade dressed in sumptuous costumes representing the evolving historical periods of the city’s 1,100-year-long reign as Japan’s capital — from 794 to 1895.

The Jidai Matsuri started as a modest event with just six sections representing six era’s from Kyoto’s history, but it has grown in size and popularity with residents and visitors alike. Today, there are around 20 sections and more than 2,000 participants, who form a 2-km procession that wends its way along a 4.5-km route from the Kyoto Gojo, or Imperial Palace, to Heian Shrine. It’s due to start at noon, and won’t arrive at Heian Shrine until around 2:30 p.m.

In the words of Friedrich Nietzsche: “It is autumn all around, and clear sky.” My wife, Angeles, and I are surrounded by men, women and children dressed in an eye-popping kaleidoscope of costumes as we stand under the welcome shade cast by the towering ancient pine trees in the grounds of the palace — which was the Emperor’s residence when Kyoto was capital. The participants’ elaborate silk robes glisten in the morning sunshine, and some make final adjustments to their garments.

(courtesy Frantisek Stoud)

As a fashion designer, Angeles is thrilled by all this sartorial satori (sudden enlightenment) — “I’ve never seen so much silk!” she exclaims. “And in such lovely, vivid colors.”

Indeed, it’s like being backstage at a David Bowie concert, circa 1972. Except it’s far more sedate. Here, the multicolored multitude quietly chat and sip green tea as they wait.

Meanwhile, a swarm of photographers bobs and weaves among them, cameras clicking away. Angeles joins in and does the same. Yet no matter how many times the participants are called on to face this way or that, they respond with unfailing good cheer, like actors on the red carpet. And just like actors, they are constantly in character. When asked for a picture, they don’t smile and flash the peace sign, but pose with all the dignity and bearing of their social rank. Participants practice wearing their costumes for weeks before the festival, which can only be worn in public on the day of the parade.

With noon approaching, the park is quickly filling up with people hoping for prime viewing spots. Many are already seated on blue tarps along both sides of the wide, gravel driveway. Luckily, we have tickets for seats on the raised viewing platform — row 2, seats 28 and 29, again, just like a concert, a perfect spot from which to enjoy the parade. As we show our tickets, a pretty girl in a uniform hands us a pamphlet.

“How many people are you expecting today?” Angeles asks.
“Around 150,000,” she says.

Finally, the procession gets underway, emerging slowly from the grounds of the palace and out onto the streets of Kyoto. It’s only now that we begin to appreciate the stunning scope of the event. The parade is divided into sections representing each historical period, starting with the Meiji Era (1868-1912) and ending with the Heian Period (794-1185); it’s like watching a living history of Japan scroll past us.

The whole procession takes an hour and a half to pass by. Every imaginable rank and office from 1,000 years of Japanese society is represented here: from emperors and their consorts, courtiers, nobles, commanders and samurai warriors to flower-sellers, foot-soldiers and servants. There are artists, armies, oxcarts, palanquins, horseback archers and more than 70 horses, which trot past with dressage-like elegance.

(courtesy mboogiedown)

The astonishing accuracy of each period’s costumes beggars belief. Clothes, footwear and hairstyles have all been faithfully reproduced in painstaking detail. Even the dyeing of the costumes is done in the traditional way. Everyday objects and military weapons, such as the long-handled samurai swords or Meiji Era rifles, are equally authentic.

Yet, the Jidai Matsuri is far more than a parade of historical garments. Beyond the gorgeous costumes and authentic artifacts, the procession also displays a touchingly human face, thanks to the inclusion of real-life historical characters from each era. These range from the two renowned authors of the Heian Period — Murasaki Shikibu (who wrote “The Tale of Genji”) and Sei Shonangon (“The Pillow Book”) — to the great 16th-century lord and warrior Toyotomi Hideyoshi.

And what of the sad-eyed lady, the one we saw putting on her makeup at the start of this story? She turns out to be Kazunomiya, the poet princess, half-sister of Emperor Komei, one of the two Emperors honoured in Heian Shrine. Her tale is one of the most touching of all the characters in the parade. When she was just 16, her family broke off her engagement to a childhood friend, Prince Arisugawa Taruhito, and forced her to marry shogun Iemochi Tokugawa, in an attempt to unite the Imperial Court and the Shogunate in the era when the Meiji Restoration was rapidly changing Japan.

Belying her tender years, Princess Kazunomiya initially refused the arranged marriage and only acquiesced after insisting on certain conditions. In Kathryn Lasky’s novel about the princess, “Prisoner of Heaven,” Kazunomiya declares, “No matter how they cut me up to serve their purposes, within me there shall always remain a little spark, a small piece that is my essence and cannot be destroyed.”

Princess Kazunomiya’s half-brother, Emperor Komei, together with Emperor Kammu — the last and the first emperors to reside in Kyoto — bring the Jidai Matsuri to an emotive conclusion, as two mikoshi (portable shrines) containing their spirits are paraded through the streets.

Yet for all its pomp, this is very much a people’s festival. It is said that if you ask one student from Kyoto University to volunteer to help with the preparations, 100 will immediately offer their services. As a result, the world can still marvel at Kyoto’s proud history and heritage — a century after it ceased to be Japan’s capital — in this magnificent pageant that captures the soul of the city.

Animist poem

September 29, 2014 / John D.

The immensely moving poem below was written in 1932 and circulated anonymously. Only after it became popular in Britain following a reading of the poem for a fallen soldier in Northern Ireland was it discovered to have been written by an American poet and housewife, Mary Elizabeth Frye. The sentiments transcend national and religious boundaries, appealing to the most basic instincts of humanity. It’s included here by way of respect for those who died this past weekend on the sacred mountain of Mt Ontake.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.

The poem was set to music by Japanese singer-songwriter Man Arai as “千の風になって” (Sen no Kaze ni Natte, or “Become A Thousand Winds”). Other singers later covered the song, among them Japanese tenor Masafumi Akikawa. In January 2007, it became the first classical music piece to top the Oricon weekly singles chart and subsequently the first classical music piece to top the Oricon yearly singles chart.

For a 5 min. organ accompaniment of Masafumi Akikawa’s version in Japanese, click here.
For a 4 min. piano accompaniment of Maki Mori in Japanese, click here.
For a live version by Hayley Westenra in English, click here.

Mt Ontake eruption (courtesy NBC)

Land of catastrophe

September 28, 2014 / John D.

The kami of Mt Ontake blows its top (anonymous photographer via Kyodo News)

Meanwhile, a typhoon is approaching Japan, as seen here on the weather forecast

Mt Ontake, Japan’s second tallest volcano at 3067 meters (1062 ft), has erupted with dozens stranded or injured. (The Guardian has a short video of the eruption with a statement by prime minister Abe here.)

Unfortunately, because it was a beautiful sunny weekend in early autumn, there are thought to have been hundreds on the mountain at the time of the eruption. The volcano which sits on the border of Gifu and Nagano prefectures is a sacred mountain, where shamanistic practices have long been carried out. These include artists and actors entering a meditative trance to get divine inspiration.

It’s often said that one of the formative features of Shinto is its cultivation in a land of disasters. Earthquakes, volcanoes, typhoons and tsunami are common events. In the face of this the Japanese developed a ‘shikata ga nai‘ (it can’t be helped) stoicism. They also developed a religious practice of placating the kami which visited such disasters upon them. There was little thought of morality in this, but rather an awareness that kami have a rough side (aramitama) and a soft side (nigimitama).

Wikipedia carries this useful explanation of the differences:
The ara-mitama is the rough and violent side of a spirit. A kami’s first appearance is as an ara-mitama, which must be pacified with appropriate pacification rites and worship so that the nigi-mitama can appear. The nigi-mitama is the normal state of the kami, its functional side, while the ara-mitama appears in times of war or natural disasters.

These two souls are usually considered opposites, and Motoori Norinaga believed the other two to be no more than aspects of the nigi-mitama. Ara-mitama and nigi-mitama are in any case independent agents, so much so that they can sometimes be enshrined separately in different locations and different shintai (spirit-bodies).

For example, Sumiyoshi Shrine in Shimonoseki enshrines the ara-mitama of the Sumiyoshi kami, while Sumiyoshi Taisha in Osaka enshrines its nigi-mitama. Ise Shrine has a sub-shrine called Aramatsuri-no-miya enshrining Amaterasu’s ara-mitama. No separate enshrinement of the mitama of a kami has taken place since the rationalization and systematization of Shinto actuated by the Meiji restoration

Mountain lodge covered in ash on Mt Ontake

(Photo courtesy AP)

Sumo

September 25, 2014 / John D.

Yokozuna Asashoryu in a fight in 2008 (courtesy Wikicommons, as others below)

The Tokyo tournament is now under way (there are six tournaments a year), and as usual the wrestling is featured on Japan’s main television programme, NHK. Despite the relative weakness of Japanese wrestlers in recent years, sumo remains the country’s national sport. As Wikipedia notes, ‘In its association with Shinto, sumo has also been seen as a bulwark of Japanese tradition.’

In searching for information about the origins of sumo, I’ve come across pieces championing the wrestling as a purely Japanese phenomenon while other sites claim its origins lie in China. Personally I can’t help wondering if there isn’t a connection with Mongolian and Korean wrestling, both of which are very similar in rules. Given the spread of Siberian shamanism to the south and into the Korean peninsula, perhaps ancient forms of horsemanship and wrestling would have been introduced too.

Whatever the origins may be, there’s no doubt that sumo wrestling as it developed in Japan became closely connected with Shinto ritual, and the piece below taken from the sumotalk website illustrates the particular borrowings in some detail. Even in its secular form, it retains all the trappings of an offering to the kami.

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Historians agree that the origins of sumo date back 2000 years; however, it never really flourished as a spectator sport until the early 1600’s. Like any other social group in Japan, there are strict rules and traditions that are observed throughout the sport. The beginner watching his first sumo broadcast on television soon realizes that very little time is actually spent grappling. Rather, the wrestlers spend most of their time performing pre-bout ceremonies steeped in Shinto tradition.

Shinto is the native religion of Japan and is more a set of rituals and ceremonies than a system of beliefs or a definite code of ethics. The word itself means “way of the gods.” Sumo was originally performed to entertain the gods (kami) during festivals (matsuri). Sumo as part of Shinto ritual dates as far back as the Tumulus period (250-552), but it wasn’t until the 17th century that it began adopting the intense purification rituals that we see in sumo today.

The sumo dojo is full of symbolism

Most of the Shinto that we see in sumo occurs symbolically. To begin with, the sand that covers the clay of the dohyo is itself a symbol of purity in the Shinto religion. And the canopy above the ring is made in the style of the roof of a Shinto shrine. The four tassels on each corner of the canopy represent the four seasons, the white one as autumn, black as winter, green as spring and red as summer.

The purple bunting around the roof symbolizes the drifting of the clouds and the rotation of the seasons. The referee (gyoji) resembles a Shinto priest in his traditional robe. And kelp, cuttlefish, and chestnuts are placed in the ring along with prayers for safety.  Each day of the tournament (basho), a ring entering ceremony is held, wherein each wrestler’s body and spirit undergoes purification.

Yokozuna are dressed in mawashi with five white zigzag folded strips of paper on the front, the same as those found at the entrance of Shinto shrines. On the front of all mawashi are sagari, which are fringes of twisted string tucked into the belt, and they represent the sacred ropes in front of shrines.

Numbers of strings are odd, between seventeen and twenty-one, which are lucky numbers in the Shinto tradition. And of course, the salt that is tossed before each bout is an agent for purification and one of sumo’s most visible rituals.  As a religion of customs and not laws, Shinto developed as a religion to please the gods in order to ensure a good harvest and divine protection, but soon made headway into the sport of sumo as a way to entertain those same gods, purify the sport itself and protect the wrestlers from harm.

Statue of a sumo champion at Suwa Taisha, where matches are put on in a sumo dojo for entertaining the kami

The first ceremony of the day is the dohyo-iri, or ring ceremony performed by Juryo and Makuuchi wrestlers before their bouts begin. The wrestlers are grouped into two groups—East and West—and each group takes a turn entering the ring. The lowest-ranked wrestler enters first and walks a complete circle around the ring followed by the other wrestlers in ascending order according the rank.

Before individual wrestlers enter the ring, they are introduced to the spectators. Once the last wrestler in the group has been introduced, the wrestlers, who are facing the spectators, turn inward and face each other around the ring. After clapping their hands once, they raise their right hand, lift their kesho-mawashi (decorative aprons created for the ring ceremony), and finally raise both hands in unison.

This tradition goes back to the samurai days and represents the wrestler showing each other that none is armed. During the Makuuchi ring ceremony, the Yokozuna are notably absent from the group as they must perform their own individual ring ceremonies.

Once the actual bouts begin, the two wrestlers spend several minutes before their match lifting their legs high in the air and stomping them down, a practice said to scare away any demons. They also throw several handfuls of salt into the ring, which is said to purify the ring.

Many wrestlers will also sprinkle salt around their bodies as a means of protecting them from injury. After the last bout of the day, the bow twirling ceremony is performed by a wrestler from the same stable as a Yokozuna. True fans of the sport will not leave their seats until this ritual is performed.  Presently, sumo consists of six major tournaments a year called basho. The tournament months and sites are as follows: January-Tokyo, March-Osaka, May-Tokyo, July-Nagoya, September-Tokyo, and November-Fukuoka.

Up through the early 20th century, there were only two basho a year; however, as sumo’s popularity grew, the number of major tournaments increased to four basho a year and then in 1958, the current six-basho-a-year format was established.

The latest yokozuna, the Mongolian Kakuryu

Also, up until 1949 a basho only lasted for 10 days; currently a basho runs for 15 days. In between basho, the wrestlers constantly keep busy by touring the outskirts of Japan giving exhibitions for fans who might otherwise not get a chance to see the sport up close and live. While the wrestlers do battle each other in front of the fans, they are more concerned about avoiding injury than winning. This type of exhibition sumo is called hana-sumo, or flower sumo.

Throughout the history of the sport, there is a record of only 71 wrestlers having ever been crowned as Yokozuna. Currently #69 Hakuho, #70 Harumafuji and #71 Kakuryu, all Mongolians, are actively fighting. Often, sumo eras are defined by the Yokozuna who fought in them.

In order to receive promotion to the rank of Yokozuna nowadays, a wrestler must win two tournaments in a row. To emphasize how difficult this task is, out of the hundreds of thousands of youngsters to have ever stepped in the ring only 70 have ever reached the pinnacle. In times past when there were no active Yokozuna, exceptions to the two tournament rule were made if a wrestler won one tournament and then followed that performance up with a record “worthy” of a Yokozuna.

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For information about the new sumo museum in Tokyo, see here.

With regard to the ‘ring-entering ceremony’ based on Shinto ritual, the Wikipedia page on sumo notes… ‘Each day of the tournament the dohyō-iri, or ring-entering ceremonies performed by the top divisions before the start of their wrestling day are derived from sumo rituals.

This ceremony involves them ascending the dohyō, walking around the edge and facing the audience. They then turn and face inwards, clap their hands, raise one hand, slightly lift the ceremonial aprons, and raise both hands, then continue walking around the dohyō as they leave the same way they came in. This clapping ritual is an important Shinto element and reminiscent of the clapping in Shinto shrines designed to attract the attention of the gods.

The yokozuna’s ring-entering ceremony is regarded as a purification ritual in its own right, and is occasionally performed at Shinto shrines for this purpose. Every newly promoted yokozuna performs his first ring-entering ceremony at the Meiji Shrine in Tokyo.’

Emperor worship

September 25, 2014 / John D.

Emperor Akihito with Empress Michiko. He's supposedly the 125th member of his family to reign since the legendary Emperor Jinmu. | AP

The other day I took a taxi ride and struck up conversation with the driver. Amongst other things, he told me he was a Communist but that he liked the present emperor who was doing a good job of representing Japan. It reminded me of a discussion I once had with a royalist in Britain, who was angrily attacking Prince Charles for not doing his job properly. I’m not a royalist, I told him, but I generally agree with the line Prince Charles takes on environmental, architectural and social issues. “Well, I am a royalist, and I don’t!” my opponent replied testily.

There’s a similar situation in Japan, where right-wingers who are most vocal in defence of the imperial system find themselves at odds with the views of the emperor. Yasukuni is an example, a shrine which two reigning emperors have made a point of not visiting since Class A war criminals were secretly enshrined there in 1978. ( In 2006 it was revealed that Emperor Hirohito had expressed strong displeasure with the enshrinement.)

Browsing the internet about such matters led me to the following article from The Japan Times.

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Emperor’s apparent liberal leanings jar with Japan’s right wing
Japan Times BY PHILIP BRASOR DEC 7, 2013

In the media debate about the state secrets bill, much has been said about the public’s right to know. Participants in a democratic society must be informed to make decisions in their interest, and critics of the bill, which ostensibly protects matters of national security, believe it will be used to keep people in the dark about anything the government doesn’t want revealed or discussed openly.

But even before there is a law limiting the dispersal of official information, Japanese citizens operate with a built-in filter that controls what an individual believes he or she has a right to say. According to documentary filmmaker Tatsuya Mori, this self-censorship function is a holdover from the prewar regime’s effort to monitor the hearts and minds of the populace, and its main tool in that effort was emperor worship.

Yamamoto Taro seen here handing the emperor an anti-nuclear petition, considered a grave breach of protocol (courtesy japantrends.com)

In an interview published in the Asahi Shimbun on Nov. 27, Mori talks about the recent controversy surrounding rookie lawmaker Taro Yamamoto, who handed Emperor Akihito a letter during the annual autumn garden party at the Imperial Palace. The actor-turned-politician wanted to draw the Emperor’s attention to the plight of those affected by the crippled Fukushima nuclear power plant, but by personally giving him a note without obtaining prior permission he was violating protocol. The reaction was swift and hard, and came from across the entire political spectrum.

Yamamoto was admonished by the Diet. Mori thinks his action revealed a “lack of common sense,” but he did not break any laws, regardless of what the ruling Liberal Democratic Party implied. Mori asked a group of university students for their opinion of the incident and everyone said Yamamoto had been “rude,” even “blasphemous.” One student seemed deeply offended by the fact that Yamamoto used “only one hand” to present the letter.

What struck Mori was that all of these young people were born during the current Heisei Era, and yet their approach to the Emperor was effectively no different from the public’s reverence prior to the end of World War II, when Hirohito was considered a deity. He concluded that the “emperor system” (tennō-sei), which was once inculcated by the government, has become “internalized.” All Japanese people carry it with them, as if it were hard-wired into their consciousness. Though they no longer think of the Emperor as a god, they believe he possesses special rights and is cocooned within a matrix of taboos. As a result, he said, they are “docile in the face of authority.”

When the interviewer points out that the Emperor, whose role is defined in the Constitution as being symbolic, is not supposed to be “used” for political purposes, Mori says the Emperor cannot avoid politics. The United States decided not to remove Hirohito after the war so as to make it easier for the Japanese people to accept its authority during the Occupation. He was used by the American military to achieve its goals, just as the wartime Japanese government used him for its own purposes. Though there are still arguments regarding Hirohito’s complicity in the war, blame was borne by Class-A war criminals whose prosecution, most historians agree, was arbitrary.

In April last year, the government celebrated the 60th anniversary of the end of the American Occupation with a ceremony attended by the Emperor and Empress. Since the LDP was sponsoring the event, it was politically “using” the Emperor, and when the Imperial couple left the stage, shouts of “Banzai!” — a remnant of emperor worship — erupted from many members of the audience, including Prime Minister Shinzo Abe. Recordings on government websites eventually cut this portion of the ceremony, but not before Mori saw it. When the shouting started, Mori said, “The Emperor looked much more perplexed than when he received the letter from Yamamoto.”

An AP photo of Emperor Akihito, more liberal-minded than many of those who most ardently support the emperor system

It’s not the first time the Emperor has resisted, passively or actively, the role that some want him to fill. In 2001, during a press conference to mark his birthday, he remarked that he felt close to the Korean Peninsula, since he understood his ancestors came from there. Rumors persist that he wants to visit South Korea but that the government won’t let him, saying it doesn’t want the Emperor to be used politically by South Koreans. But isn’t preventing him from going also motivated by politics?

Mori, who once planned a documentary about the imperial system, likes the Emperor because he appeals to his own liberal leanings, which is why genuine right-wingers, such as former Tokyo Gov. Shintaro Ishihara, aren’t interested in the Emperor as a person. Their agenda really has no use for the kind of open-mindedness the Emperor occasionally demonstrates.

Another progressive pundit, sociologist Shinji Miyadai, said the same thing in a recent interview on Videonews.com, expressing admiration for the Emperor for something he said during the 2004 autumn garden party, which didn’t receive nearly as much attention as the Yamamoto faux pas. Shogi player Kunio Yonenaga, a member of the Tokyo municipal government’s educational committee at the time, proudly told the Emperor that it was his job to make sure all public schools sing the national anthem and raise the flag. The Emperor responded — and everyone heard it clearly — that he hoped Yonenaga wasn’t forcing them to do it.

As Miyadai points out, the administration of Keizo Obuchi had already stated that schools could not be legally compelled to sing the anthem or salute the flag, even if local governments like Tokyo’s have done exactly that, so the Emperor was clarifying the law in front of Yonenaga. What the shogi player said may not have been a breach of protocol, but it was definitely the espousal of an illegal act. And yet he received no criticism in the press or from the government.

In contrast, Yamamoto, by handing the Emperor a letter, was advancing an agenda that he not only had the right to advance, but also the responsibility, since it was the basis of the platform on which he had been elected. “If I had to explain to a foreigner why Yamamoto’s action was a problem,” Miyadai said, “I don’t think I could do it.”

The Hidden Sun

September 24, 2014 / John D.

The emergence of the rising sun is among the greatest wonders of existence

One of the points of this blog is to show that Shinto, far from being unique in any way, shares much in common with religions throughout East Asia and beyond. In this respect it was of interest that we read Michael Witzel’s article in the Electronic Journal of Vedic Studies. It’s entitled “Vala and Iwato: The Myth of the Hidden Sun in India, Japan and beyond”.

Green Shinto readers will know that Iwato refers to the famous Rock Door in the Kojiki myth in which the sun-goddess Amaterasu (Heavenly Shining One) retreats inside a cave after being insulted by her brother, the storm-god Susanoo. Similarly Vala refers to the cave in the Indian myth which Indra opens to release the first dawn. It appears in Rigveda c.1500 BC, and thus some 2000 years before the Japanese equivalent.

Tajikara pulls aside the Rock Door of Amaterasu's cave

Details of the myth are obviously culture-influenced (the cow plays a significant part in the Indian myth), but the underlying structure is similar. “Both share a large number of congruencies that cannot be just accidental,” writes Witzler.

The myth revolves around the disappearance of the sun and its reappearance after intervention by a group of gods. It’s a story shared by many other cultures worldwide, notes the author. One can presume that its universalism comes from the need to explain why at the end of the day the sun disappears below the horizon, sinking into the ground or sea, before emerging the next morning. One way of explaining this is through the concept of a cave, where the sun is able to spend the night in hiding.

The idea of the world being plunged into darkness and chaos, however, suggests something more than the daily occurence of nighttime. This is reinforced by the need for special rites and external intervention, with the obvious conclusion being that the event refers to the winter solstice and the waning of the sun. The release from the cave signals dawn and the beginning of a new cycle. Or simply a new beginning.

“Looking for an understanding of the myth complex dealing with the Hidden Sun,” writes Witzler, “one can discern, at various interepretative levels…”

* nature mythology and the disappearance of the sun at night and at the winter solstice
* discussion of incest and the relationship of the sun and moon
* ways of reestablishing concord at times of distress
* arrangements of exchange between gods and humans in order to maintain harmony

The birth-death-rebirth motif was of course taken over in the Christian myth in reference to Jesus Christ, who significantly was buried in a rock tomb and resurrected. He then ascends to heaven. The son of God thus turns out in essence to be a Sun-God with his own version of the Cave Myth. It seems then that Christianity too draws on the compelling notion of a hidden sun.

What conclusion can we draw from all this? Perhaps in personal terms, it’s a message to us to let our hidden sun shine. Rumi summed it up best: “Be grateful for your life, every detail of it, and your face will come to shine like a sun, and everyone who sees it will be made glad and peaceful.”

Amaterasu, depicted manga style