Tag: Pilgrimage

Japan by Train 9: Dewa Sanzan

July 6, 2022 / John D. / 0 Comments

Sanzan means three mountains, in this case referring to Mt Haguro (414 m / 1360 ft), Mt Gassan (1984m / 6509 ft) and Mt Yudono (1504m / 4934ft ). The three sacred mountains in Yamagata Prefecture are said to represent the past, present and future, but practically speaking the small hill of Mt Haguro acts as entry point for Mt Gassan, where ascetic exercises are performed. The more remote Mt Yudono, only accessible by walkers, serves as holy sanctuary, and in the past worshippers were required not to speak of what they saw there.

According to tradition, Mt Haguro grants happiness, Mt Gassan consolation, and Mt Yudono rebirth. Since I was not looking for rebirth, nor did I feel in need of consolation, I decided the gentle slopes of Mt Haguro would suit me just fine. In fact I had visited once before and remembered fondly the magical sight of its five storied pagoda – a work of art in harmony with the surrounding cedars. Santoka, the wandering poet, wrote of Westerners conquering mountains whereas Easterners contemplate them, while he himself ’tasted’ them. I knew what he meant, for the fine taste of Haguro lingered on my lips.

The bus from Tsuruoka emerges into a timeless landscape in which tiny figures in farmer’s clothing are dwarfed by misty mountains, as in a Chinese ink painting. When we reached the foothills, a large torii straddling the road announced we were entering the realm of the kami, and to either side were conspicuous signs of religiosity – shrines, buddhist statues, and shimenawa rice rope denoting sacred objects. Most striking of all was an enormous oversized haraegushi (purification stick) that looked like a relic from the Age of the Gods, when heroic figures and giant ogres strode the countryside.

At the entrance to the trail up Mt Haguro stood a run-down public toilet, placed strategically for the relief of visitors to the realm of the sacred. Despite its mosquito-ridden condition, someone had taken the trouble to place social distance markers on the floor. It was impressive. Even here, alongside the ancient traditions, modern hygiene prevailed.

Immediately on entering the woods the fresh fragrance of cedar became apparent and it was noticeably cooler, welcome relief indeed on such a warm day. Noticeboards announced with a concern for precision that the pathway had 2446 steps, and that lining the righthand side were 281 trees while lining the left were 301. This was thanks to the 50th head priest, who had laid out the approach over a period of thirteen years in the seventeenth century.

English language signage added to the site of a sacred cherry tree

The pathway into the woods begins with a gentle descent, accompanied by the refreshing sound of water running down either side. Since my last visit there had been a significant change in that signs were bilingual for the benefit of tourists, and in front of a small wooden shrine was an announcement in English; ’Presiding kami Amenotajikarao no mikoto, Divine virtue: Proficiency in arts and sports.’ It seemed an invitation to pray, and praying in Japan means paying, so I tossed a coin into the offertory box and prayed for proficiency in arts. The sports I was willing to forego.

Further along the trail, the outline of a pagoda became apparent. From a distance it was barely discernible amongst the trees, for though it is an impressive twenty-nine meters high (95ft), it nestles beneath the canopy of the surrounding cedars. The result is a harmonious blending of art and nature. The impossibly tall trees have slender trunks stretching skywards as if reaching for heaven, while the pagoda exhibits elegance combined with stunning craftsmanship. If you stand below it and try to work out how the joints fit together, your brain is sure to get scrambled. And all that interconnecting complexity is done without the use of nails.

At this point, covered in a film of sweat, I decided I had had enough. Foolishly I had not brought any water, and my back was aching. I had intended to press on to the thatched buildings of Dewa Shrine, but I knew the kami would forgive me if I turned back. On the bus to Tsuruoka, I watched the mountains recede into the distance and thought of Basho. Trained in Zen, he was open to all forms of spirituality as is the Japanese way, and he had managed the full course at Dewa Sanzan, austerities and all. But then, I consoled myself, he was a mere forty-five at the time. When he visited, It had also been a warm day and he wrote of relief from the summer heat.

The coolness
And a faint three-day moon –
Mount Haguro

After a week at Minamidani (South Valley), Basho climbed the more demanding Mt Gassan and did ascetic exercises, before proceeding to Mt Yudono. Given the taboo on revealing what happens there, he cleverly wrote of it by not writing of it. (The Tsuruoka tourist board are less compliant, for their brochure explicitly describes the sacred object of worship.)

Yudono
of which I may not tell –
sleeves wet with tears

The mountain experience stimulated the poet’s imagination, and brought out his playful side too. The ‘De-’ of Dewa Sanzan means exiting, or emerging, and Basho used this in a haiku that sees him emerge from the mountains not to some great spiritual insight, but to vegetables. The ‘first of the season’ eggplants were prepared specially for him by his pupil, Nagayama Juko.

How unusual –
emerging from Dewa
to first eggplants

Sacred rock used as a marker for training by Shugendo practitioners

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For another Green Shinto piece on Dewa Sanzan, please click here.

8 Spiritual Spots

December 9, 2020 / John D. / 0 Comments

An article in Japan Today highlights in syncretic fashion eight special spiritual spots to visit in Japan. As well as Shinto shrines, there are Buddhist temples, Shugendo mountains and even an Indian retreat. These are the kind of places where tourism mixes with spiritual pilgrimage, and for the full article with further information and links, please click here.

In reverse order, the spots are as follows. Green Shinto has previously covered half of them, though we must confess to not having come across no. 8 before. (You can read more about it here.)

8) Mt Mitoku in Tottori Prefecture
7) Izumo Taisha in Shimane Prefecture
6) Naritasan Shinsho-ji in Narita, Chiba Prefecture
5) Osore san in Aomori Prefecture
4) Vipassana Retreat in Chiba and Kyoto
3) Dewa Sanzan in Yamagata Prefecture
2) Ise Jingu in Mie Prefecture
1) Koyasan in Wakayama Prefecture

The spectacular setting of Mt Mitoku in Tottori Prefecture (courtesy JNTO)

Kanto syncretic pilgrimage

November 16, 2019 / John D. / 0 Comments

Mt Oyama pilgrimage an entertaining way to step back in time

By Vicki L Beyer in Japan Today Nov. 15, 2019 Photos by: VICKI L BEYER (the original text has been slightly modified)

In our modern times, Mt Oyama (1,252 meters) in the Tanzawa mountains of Kanagawa Prefecture makes for a pleasant excursion from Tokyo or Yokohama, but historically Oyama was a site of religious pilgrimage particularly popular with Edoites (modern Tokyo was known as Edo before the mid-19th century).

The tour I joined began at a Tougakubou, a shukubo inn at the foot of the mountain. Shukubo are inns that specifically serve the needs of religious pilgrims. As we donned our gyo-i (a kind of happi worn by pilgrims), the guide explained that Oyama has been a sacred site for at least 4,000 years, although the mountain’s Shinto shrine, Oyama Afuri Shrine, dates back to the 10th emperor (ie, approximately 2,000 years ago) and its affiliated Buddhist temple, Oyama-dera Temple, was founded by a priest named Roben in 755.

We were then told how during the Edo Period (1603-1868), merchant associations, guilds and neighborhoods of Edo would send representative groups to worship on the mountain at least once a year. Travel in those days was highly restricted by the shogunate. Traveling all the way to Mt Fuji, Japan’s ultimate religious mountain, required special travel permits, while Mt Oyama was designated as a “short trip” for which permission was not required. Consequently, Mt Oyama became a popular substitute pilgrimage among Edoites. Needless to say, even with the goal of religious pilgrimage, traveling as a group meant there was plenty of lively fun, too. Our tour was designed to emulate the experience.

We began with a blessing in the shrine room of the inn, a Shinto priest offering prayers for our safe ascent and return. Each of us was given a small wooden “sword” on which to write our particular prayer for the journey while one of the guides carried a large wooden sword (about a meter long) representing prayers on behalf of all of us. This, too, emulated the Edo Period experience, when groups came to the mountain as representatives of their friends, neighbors, or colleagues, and so carried their prayers, as well.

Our first stop was the Roben Waterfall, a thin stream of water dropping nearly four meters from the mouth of a dragon and then flowing into the Oyama River that forms threads through this community. Traditional pilgrims bathed in one of several similar falls in this area before beginning their ascent. Roben himself is said to have used this one, hence the name. These days, visitors can only look, but not enter the water.

Next we passed by a number of shukubo inns and tofu restaurants on Tofu-zaka, a long slow incline. Because of plentiful pure water, this area is particularly known for its excellent tofu. We are promised a tofu meal upon our return.

Just across the Oyama River is the start of Koma Sando, regarded as the initial approach to mountain. Pilgrims ascend 362 steps, lined with shops and restaurants, to reach the trailhead. It takes about 15 minutes to traverse the Koma Sando, more if you stop for a snack or to admire the wares. Koma means spinning top, a popular Japanese wooden toy that is made and sold in this area. In the Edo Period the spinning of a koma was seen as an analogy for money circulating — something desired by merchants — making these koma a popular talisman among the merchant class.

Photos: VICKI L BEYER

Fortunately, the 362 steps are broken by 27 landings. Tiles depicting tops connote which landing one is on. There is a signboard explaining the “code.” Trivia questions are posted in Japanese on some stairs, taunting that the answer is just a little further on. Finally, a sign informs pilgrims that they have reached the top step.

But this is by no means the end of the journey.

From here one must choose whether to walk or ride the cable car. Our group chose to continue on foot, up more stairs to a small shrine from whence the trail divides into the “otoko slope” (steeper and more arduous) and the “onna slope”. We went for the “onna slope”, resulting in a 40-minute climb to Oyama-dera. Along the way, we could enjoy lush woodland and a burbling stream. We also spotted four deer grazing on the hillside above us. Our guide explained that deer and wild boar were common in the area, and recently bears had also been sighted.

Along the trail were signs explaining seven “mysteries” including a spring of pure water associated with Kobo Daishi (774-835), the great Buddhist evangelist who travelled the length and breadth of Japan, and a Jizo relief in stone said to have been carved by Kobo Daishi using his fingernails.

When we reached Oyama-dera we were greeted by another long steep staircase, divided by stone lanterns and lined with small bronze statues of Fudo Myo-o, a Buddhist guardian deity. The guide explained that the maple trees growing in this area were brought in from the Kyoto area. In the late fall they turn a spectacular red, a sight that draws huge crowds.

The temple at the top of the stairs boasts a spectacular view of Enoshima, Sagami Bay and the Miura Peninsula beyond. The temple itself is covered with intricate wood carvings and houses three 13th century Buddhist images cast, unusually, in iron.

Our final destination was Afuri Oyama Shrine. Here we were met by a Shinto priest who told us more about the shrine’s history and practices, while leading us up a last flight of stairs and into a small worship hall. We placed the small wooden swords inscribed with our prayers onto a special table between our seating and the inner sanctuary of the shrine. The priest performed a small ceremony to send our prayers to the gods and concluded by waving his purifying white pom-pom over our bowed heads. Next, two local boys performed a kagura dance for us. The priest explained that kagura means “entertaining the gods”, but we are also entertained by this rare and special spectacle.

After the ceremony we had time to explore the shrine grounds before catching the return cable car. One feature we were advised not to miss is the spring underneath the main shrine, where we filled our water bottles with the shrine’s sacred water.

And, of course, having gained higher elevation, there is also the view. Michelin has awarded two stars to this expansive view, which now includes not only Enoshima, Sagami Bay and the Miura Peninsula, but also extends all the way to Tokyo Bay and the Boso Peninsula.

We made our descent by cable car and then back down the stairs of the Koma Sando to regroup at Tougakubou for a sumptuous lunch featuring the local tofu fixed in a variety of ways. In keeping with the theme of emulating Edo Period pilgrims, we were entertained throughout our meal by traditional entertainers including acrobats, musicians and dancers, as well as by a few audience participation games that were, apparently, popular in those times.

The explanations and entertainment provided by the tour made this a much deeper experience than merely ascending the mountain would have been. It was easy to see why Edo people were so eager to make these religious pilgrimages with their additional entertainment and conviviality, and I felt like I had become one of them.

Atago July 31 pilgrimage

July 16, 2017 / John D. / 0 Comments

The excellent Core Kyoto series produced by NHK World (which broadcasts in English for overseas) has produced a fine item about Kyoto’s Mt Atago and the pilgrimage for the fire deity which takes place on July 31.

The video is available on the NHK site till July 27. After that it may appear on Youtube, along with many of the other Core Kyoto videos. Click here to check them out as it’s really an excellent series for anyone at all interested in Japanese traditions.

Core Kyoto

Atago Sennichi Mairi: Pilgrimage to the Guardian against Fire

Broadcast on July 13, 2017

Paper talismans protecting against fire are common sights in Kyoto homes. People receive them at Atago Jinja, situated on top of a rugged mountain. The shrine holds Sennichi-mairi, or the 1,000-day pilgrimage, on the evening of July 31. Worshippers believe that if they make the grueling trek they have 1,000 days’ worth of protection against fire-related disasters. Discover the deep faith in Atago as more than 10,000 Kyotoites undertake the pilgrimage with gratitude for the gifts fire bestows.

Available until July 27, 2017 by clicking here.

Dewa Sanzan pilgrimage

August 16, 2015 / John D. / 2 Comments

Gassan Shrine peeks through a thick mountain fog. | Photo by DAVEY YOUNG

Japan is covered in mountains, many of which have been considered sacred since ancient times. A few years ago while travelling down from Aomori to Kyoto, I took the train along the Japan Sea and stopped off at various points, including the famed three peaks of Dewa Sanzan. Regrettably, I only had time for a one-day visit, missing out on the heart of the pilgrimage, but an article yesterday in the Japan Times gives an account of the full experience.

Mountain pilgrimages are one of the great joys of Japan, taking one out of the mundane reality of everyday life and bringing one closer to the realm of the gods. Whatever one might think personally about the reality of another world, the mountain ascent alone is guaranteed to produce a ‘spiritual high’.

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Dewa Sanzan: The arduous journey from ascetic to aesthetic

The traditional pilgrimage to Dewa Sanzan, or the Three Mountains of Dewa, begins with the smallest and northernmost Mount Haguro. The plaque at the beginning of the path through Zuishin Gate tells of 33 carvings of “gourds, sake cups and the like” scattered along the 2,446 steps to the top of the mountain, and that whoever can find all of them will have their dreams come true.

It didn’t take me long to realize this isn’t so much an egg hunt as a goose chase, a clever distraction from the arduous ascent. Fifteen minutes and a few hundred steps in, my legs trembled, my clothes dripped sweat and I had yet to spot a single carving.

At least the scenic rewards of Mount Haguro were more immediate. Only just beginning my three-day pilgrimage, I’d already passed the high waterfall that serves to purify those foolhardy enough to undertake such a task, as well the famed five-story pagoda first built by Taira no Masakado in the 10th century.

Dewa Sanzan in Yamagata Prefecture has been a site of devotion since its founding by Prince Hachiko in 593. During the Heian Period (794-1185) it became an important center for Shugendo, a syncretic belief system that borrows elements from esoteric Buddhism and Shinto, and emphasizes the relationship between humans and nature.

I was midway up the mountain and bent over gasping for air when I noticed the clownish nose and mocking eyes of a tengu goblin staring back at me. I’d finally spotted my first carving on the stone stairs. Just then a trio of white-clad yamabushi, Shugendo practioners adhering to a rigorous form of mountain asceticism, passed by carrying pilgrim’s staffs topped with tinkling silver bells. The plonk-plonk of wood hitting stone reverberated around the towering sugi (Japanese cedar) trees that lined the path.

A mountain ascetic blows a horagai (conch horn) to announce his presence on the mountain

As the traditional entrance to Dewa Sanzan, Mount Haguro enshrines all three mountains’ deities at Sanjin Gosaiden. The nearly 200-year-old structure at the mountain’s flat summit blends elements of Shinto and Buddhism under its thick thatched roof, and upon my late afternoon arrival I found a few dozen tourists and worshippers alike listening to a monk’s resonant voice chanting sutra. Two other baritone chants unfurled from smaller temples to the left and right and overlapped in the humid air where sharp, clarion cries from unseen birds stitched together a rich sonic tapestry.

I bathed and retired to my room at the Saikan sanrūjō, an inn for pilgrims and Shugendo practitioners, for some quiet time before a dinner of traditional shōjin ryori (Buddhist vegetarian, or “devotion” cuisine). A group of yamabushi ate in a separate dining hall, apparently forbidden from consorting with riffraff like me.

I went to bed early knowing I had a long day ahead of me, but was awakened just before midnight by the sound of my fellow lodgers chanting in the main hall, and again around 4 a.m. by the sounding of a horagai, a trumpet fashioned from a conch shell, summoning the yamabushi to their daily training.

I’d come to Dewa Sanzan chasing a rumor that you could still hike the original 20-km route from Haguro to Gassan, the second and highest of the pilgrimage’s three peaks. I’d been asking everyone local I could corner about the apocryphal trail but kept getting the same answer: Most of the route had been paved over more than 40 years ago and the resulting road ended at Gassan’s eighth station, close to where I was to spend my second night.

The five-tiered pagoda on Mt Haguro

Luckily the original path off of Mount Haguro still existed and would take me by the visitors’ center, where I could perhaps find fresh intelligence. Stepping from stone to stone I wondered if my feet fell in the same places as those of the haiku poet Matsuo Basho when he passed this way in 1689, before writing about his visit to Dewa Sanzan in Japan’s most famous travelogue, the “Narrow Road to the Deep North.”

At the visitors’ center I procured a topographical map of the area, consulted with the lone employee and confirmed my worst fears. The old path up the mountain had indeed been paved over. With any romantic notion I may have had of walking in Basho’s footsteps thus deflated, I camped out on the quiet, shaded porch of the visitors’ center to wait for the next bus.

At 1,984 meters, Mount Gassan is nearly four times as tall as Mount Haguro. The road to the eighth station meanders up the north ridge and affords long, sweeping views down the valleys on either side and over the Japan Sea to the west. Arriving at Midahara Shrine hours ahead of schedule, I left my backpack with the young priests and spent the afternoon wandering around the alpine wetlands north of the peak where squadrons of dragonflies conducted maneuvers over the sedge and red-bellied salamanders swam lazily in the small highland tarns.

After another meal of foraged mountain vegetables, I walked through the moonlit marsh to soak up the silence and take in the clear air. Returning to the sanrūjō, I found the young priests had changed into shorts and tatty T-shirts. They sat chain smoking around a small television showing a variety program about monks at Mount Koya, where a Shingon abbot exhorted the importance of man’s relationship to nature. The dressed-down priests nodded in agreement between the smoke rings they blew.

It wasn’t the blare of a horagai that woke me the next morning, but solemn drumming as the priests, presumably back in uniform, ritually opened the shrine for another day.

The real path of mountain asceticism on Dewa Sanzan (courtesy corbin blog)

Leaving the wetlands I ascended into a ceiling of clouds that had moved in overnight. The fog limited my view significantly as I made my way across fields of gray stone patched with snow and through vivid green chaparral stippled by bright alpine wildflowers. Occasionally the rolling banks revealed crystalline views across the valley like glimpses of the floating world.

The fog so concealed Gassan Shrine where it jutted from the mountain’s peak that I hardly knew when I had arrived. Owing to its prominent placement and the high stone wall that surrounds it, the shrine resembles a medieval military garrison more than a far-flung pilgrim’s post.

I was purified by one from another cadre of priests, who seemed even younger than those at Midahara, before entering Dewa Sanzan’s holiest site. I silently admired the shrine’s principle objects of worship, three round mirrors of pounded and polished metal that gleamed in the murky light, before continuing on.

The fog soon turned to showers as I made my careful, calf-smashing descent down the rain-slicked path west toward Mount Yudono. A section of trail known as the cow’s neck skirted a massive ice sheet so vast I couldn’t discern its far edges as they dissolved into the mist. The ice had crept up the slope to envelope several dozen meters of the trail, and when I reached the far side of this white expanse I encountered a group of hikers waiting cautiously for me — or anyone, really — to appear before venturing onto the ice themselves.

The trail then arced around to the northern slope of Mount Yudono before a final steep descent to Dewa Sanzan’s final stop, Yudono Shrine, near the base of the mountain. The penultimate segment is so steep that steel ladders have been bolted to the rock itself, and in places rivulets of water stream beneath them. At first I mistook this for draining rainwater before realizing the ladders were bolted over a waterfall.

The rain had abated and eventually the ground leveled out as I shakily covered the final few hundred meters to my ultimate destination. With each step I felt a bit more of the pilgrim’s singular pride, that rare blend of accomplishment, relief and reverence.

It’s tradition not to reveal what one sees inside the hallowed grounds of Yudono Shrine, and one that I intend to keep. I’ll only say that every arduous step I took to get there made the experience that much more gratifying. For those of you have been, you’ll get my little joke. To everyone else, you’ll have to make your own way there and discover Yudono’s holy secrets for yourself.

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Getting there: Mount Haguro and Yudono Shrine can both be reached by regular bus service from Tsuruoka for around ¥1,400 one way. Mount Gassan and Mount Yudono are closed from October through June due to heavy snow, and bookings at all sanrūjō must be made in advance.

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For an excellent NHK World video introduction to Dewa Sanzan mountain asceticism (Shugendo), please see https://vimeo.com/196561540 (28 mins)