Gense riyaku

I was introduced to Professor Ikegami Yoshimasa from Komazawa University by one of my professors. Our meeting left a great impression on me: I did not only gain several new insights, I am now also able to put insights I already had into words.

First of all, I explained to him that I started off  with the intention to compare ancient European pagan syncretism with Japanese syncretism (and more particularly involving the household worship), but that I realised a simple comparison is not suited for a doctoral dissertation and was now looking for historical sources concerning the Ebisu-dana, as it united syncretism and household worship. I made it clear that I was trying to focus on the folkloric aspect of religion, rather than the ideology and professor Ikegami was kind enough to give me some books and texts concerning the so-called Minzoku-gaku “民俗学” (folkloristics).

Professor Ikegami warned me for the risk of ending up simply translating Japanese research concerning the Ebisu-dana. While this kind of research is common and also useful for other researchers who may have limited access to Japanese sources, it is not the best option for a doctoral thesis. He advised me to “zoom out” for the time being to be able to find the right approach. Rather than that, he suggested that I should use my European background and that it may be interesting to do some sort of comparison after all. However, I got the impression that he believed comparing ancient Europe to modern Japan to be slightly stereotypical and perhaps even Eurocentric (“Europeans have surpassed this kind of religion a long time ago”).  As I obviously did not intend such a value judgement and I am rather unfamiliar with church-related practices of the Christian era in Europa I was not inclined to go down that road at first. However, the way he defined religion made me change my mind. He says the concept of “believing” is often overly emphasized as a consequence of the predominant influence of Christianity (in particular Protestantism) on modern science. The observing of certain folk ceremonies or rituals, the construction and usage of religious objects and praying for “worldly benefits” is generally disregarded or at least deemed inferior to “faith” by theologian and religious leaders of the modern time. However, this obviously subjective view is often adopted by scholars, perhaps without them even realizing the subjectivity of their approach.

In short, observing “Sinterklaas”, celebrating “Carnaval”, exchanging Christmas gifts or hiding chocolate eggs in the garden for children to find at Easter, as well as praying for a good result on an exam to the kami-dana, throwing beans at Setsubun 節分, dressing up as a Namahage, placing kadomatsu 門松 near the entrance around New Year and so forth are as much entitled to be called “religion” as actual “faith” is. Practical religion (宗教 shūkyō) is in no way objectively inferior to faith (信仰 Shinkō) and therefore deserves equal academic attention.

Professor Ikegami spent a lot of time doing research on the so-called Gense riyaku 現世利益 or the acquisition of “benefits of this world”. Japanese religion is often stereotyped as being focussed mainly on ceremonies that involve such “superficial benefits”. However, it can be misleading to compare Japanese folk religion with Christianity and using hard-core Lutheran theology to represent the latter. Christianity (and perhaps Catholicism in particular) used to be much more of a “practical religion” than we often think. The practice of praying to saints (an obvious remain of pagan polytheism!) for protection, fertility and the like is an example of a ceremony clearly aiming for the acquisition of gense riyaku.

With a definition like that, I am more inclined to compare European religious folklore with its Japanese counterpart in an attempt to prove that Japanese religion is not the only one that revolves around practical aspects and worldly benefits.

Two problems arise, however, if I choose to change my strategy:

•  I have to reconsider the period I will be focussing on.

At this point the 17^th century seems an option (Japan: pre-shinbutsu bunri period, but a fair amount of sources concerning folk culture. Europe: Renaissance period, a lot of attention for pre-christian religion [albeit not in the sense of “faith”], highly documented folk culture and religion, the origin of customs like St. Nicholas eve)

Or the 19^th century were native religious elements were “rediscovered” and stripped from foreign elements (Christianity and Buddhism) in search of national identity (Japan: kokugaku, construction of the concept of kamidana etc. Europe: revival of possibly pre-Christian religious remains, this time approached somewhat diminutively [cfr. Jacob Grimm]).

• Combining the Ebisu-dana with the aforementioned strategy may prove to be difficult.

Further reading will be necessary to determine what strategy would make the greatest contribution to the current debates in folkloristics. 

Sources:

Ikegami, Yoshimasa (池上良正).『現世利益と世界宗教』(Gense riyaku to sekai shūkyō). Tokyo: Iwanami shoten (岩波書店), 2004.

Ebisu-dana in “Yōshūfushi”

Ebisu-dana in “Yōshūfushi”

In “Shintō dai-jiten” I found a quote concerning the Ebisu-dana. The quote was taken out of Yōshūfushi 『雍州府志』, apparently a guidebook to Kyōto dating from the Edo-period (1684 to be precise)

 “

凡倭俗惠比須天大黑天爲 二一雙一民家戸々作二小像一安二置棚頭一祭レ之、是謂二惠美須棚 一、凡自レ外所レ入二家内一之金銀絹帛並酒茶肴核之類、先供二斯棚一言又祈レ得レ之也、故與二福神惠美須一併二祭之一者乎

”

According to this quote, in general every folk dwelling had a shelf called “Ebisu-dana” on which a pair of statuettes of Ebisu-ten and Daikoku-ten was enshrined. Offerings of gold, silver, silk, but also sake, tea, food, fruit seeds and the like were put in front of them and people prayed to acquire more of the offered items.

While virtually absent in Buddhism (worldly desires are not encouraged) and Christianity, the presenting of small amounts of a certain desired good seems to be quite common in polytheistic societies (cf. previous post on kamidana in Yamanashi). There are numerous similar examples within Japanese religion like the offering of rice to Inatama 稲魂, the deity of foodstuffs (cf. ‘Amami-gaku’ Kankōiinkai), but the practice is far from unique. In ancient Rome, the ceremonies of the so-called Equus October (October Horse) to honour Mars were held on October 15. The horse that was to be offered was decided by a race. The one that proved to be the fastest and the strongest was slaughtered, whereupon the horse’s severed head was decorated with loaves of bread. Knowing that Mars played the dual role of deity of war on the one hand and deity of agriculture on the other hand, we can see the similarity with the ceremony of offering gold and the like to Ebisu and Daikoku-ten: a strong horse is sacrificed to ask for strength, loaves of bread are offered to secure a good harvest.  

Sources:

• ‘Amami-gaku’ Kankōiinkai (「奄美学」刊行委員会). 『奄美学その地平と彼方』(Amami-gaku sono chihei to kanata). Nanpōshinsha (南方新社), 2005.

•  Dunstan, William E. Ancient Rome. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2010.

•  Kobayashi, Giryō (小林義亮).  『笠置寺激動の1300年: ある山寺の歴史』(Kasagi-dera gekidō no 1300-nen: aru yamadera no rekishi) . Tōkyō: Bungeisha (文芸社), 2002. (p210).

• Rinsen-shoten (臨川書店).『神道大辭典　一巻』(Shintō dai-jiten ikkan). Tokyo: Heibonsha edition (平凡社版), 1969.

Yamanashi-ken

Past weekend I travelled to Yamanashi prefecture to visit a friend who is learning Japanese carpentry as an apprentice from an experienced  Miya-daiku (宮大工 Shrine carpenter). As I am well aware of the fact that the Japanese countryside has a much higher percentage of traditional houses and elderly people than Tōkyō, I expected to find some remains of the religious customs of former generations. In my experience, kamidana are getting rarer and rarer in Tōkyō so I was hoping to see one at my friend’s master’s residence.  The lady of the house apologised for the dust on top of it, but there was indeed a rather simple gods’ shelf present in the house. There was no mini-shrine (miya-gata 宮形 in Japanese) on the shelf, but there were some offerings like a few sakaki 榊branches and some amulets made out of rice straw – as an expression of gratitude for the rice harvest according to my friend’s master. There were several o-fuda 御札 from shrines the family visited, like one dedicated to the popularly enshrined Amaterasu-ōmikami 天照大御神and another to Dōso-daijin  道祖大神.

We headed to a small residence in the mountains where my friend and his master do all kinds of chores like chopping firewood and the like. I was lucky enough to meet a friend of the master’s who happened to have a kannushi (神主 shintō priest) licence. When I inquired about the position of kami in the household he told me that an old folk tale describes how every one of the Seven Lucky Gods (七福神 Shichifuku-jin) chose a room of the household to protect. Benten-sama  弁天様 (also Benzai-ten弁財天)  was the last one to choose and since all the other rooms were taken she had to settle for the toilet.  Even though she was reluctant at first, she finally accepted, but demanded in return that the toilet should be the cleanest room in the house.

I had heard about a pillar that is considered to be important in Japanese architecture called  Daikoku-bashira 大黒柱 and I asked the master’s friend if he knew why it was called that and if there is any link with Daikoku-ten. He was not sure about its origins, but he told me that, as opposed to the single large pillar that is nowadays considered to be the daikoku-bashira, there used to be four daikoku-bashira in traditional “folk dwellings” (民家 minka) .

I looked up “Shichifuku-jin” and “Daikoku-bashira” in several dictionaries, but I was unable to confirm either of the stories, which makes them even more interesting. 

Small shrines near Sensō-ji 浅草寺

I went to the Sensō-ji again. This temple is considered to be one of the oldest if not the oldest temples in Tōkyō, even though it has been damaged and restored several times over the years. The temple is dedicated to Shō-kannon 聖観音1, of whom fishermen allegedly found a statue in the Sumida river in 628. While I was writing my master’s thesis on this Japanese interpretation of Avalokiteśvara अवलोकितेश्वर, unfortunately I was not able to visit this temple, but returning here, this time as a “Kannon scholar”, I obviously had a far better understanding of what I saw around me than the last time a few years ago.

This time, I did not come particularly to see Kannon. As the honzon 本尊, or main idol, remains hidden for the public 2, there is not much to investigate for me when it comes to enshrined statues and altars, but I did remember there were several hokora 祠 (small shrines) besides the main temple.  Among them is a fairly large amount of Jizō-bosatsu 地蔵菩薩 statues. The most remarkable one seemed simply damaged at first sight. Upon closer inspection however, I realised that the statue’s front had been carved away by a ritual process of devotees continuously rubbing small pebbles against the surface.  

 

Far more interesting for my research even, was a small hokora with the duo Ebisu 恵比須 and Daikoku-ten大黒天. Ebisu is believed to be purely Japanese, the kami of fishermen and the sea and Daikoku-ten is likely to have derived from  the Hindu deity Mahākāla महाकाल 3.,  a manifestation of Śiva शिव. From the Muromachi period 4 onwards these two deities have been often enshrined together presented as being brothers, father and son or sometimes as master and apprentice.  They can also be seen in the so-called Ebisu-dana 恵比寿棚, a type of kamidana. And this is where it is inspiring for my research: a Hindu/Buddhist deity and a native Japanese deity that are commonly enshrined alongside one another and venerated by the common folk to such an extent that they have been given a place in the private household. As it probably cannot get much closer to ‘syncretism in folk altars’ than this I plan to look into some historical sources to find out more about the veneration of this duo. At this point I am thinking about the following options: Ebisu and Daikoku in hokora, kamidana (Ebisu-dana) or zūshi 厨子.

1. The most basic one of the seven principle hengeshin 変化身 (manifestations) of Kannon-bosatsu 観音菩薩

2. Such “hidden Boeddha’s” are called hibutsu 秘仏 in Japanese. They are especially common in temples affiliated with the Shingon- and Tendai-sect. Sensō-ji used to be a Tendai temple, but is now independent.

3. महा=big, mega ->大 ; काल=black ->黒

4. 1336-1573

Sources:

• Frank, Bernard. Le panthéon bouddhique au Japon-collections d'Emile Guimet. Paris: Editions de la Réunion des musées nationaux, 1991. (p213).

• Iida, Masao (飯田雅男). 『橋から見た隅田川の歴史』 (Hashi kara mita Sumida-gawa no rekishi). Tokyo: Bungeisha (文芸社), 2002.  

• Tanaka, Yoshiyasu (田中義恭).『面白いほどよくわかる仏像の世界: 仏像の種類・歴史から鑑賞のポイントまで』(Omoshiroi hodo yoku wakaru butsuzō no sekai: butsuzō no shurui, rekishi kara kanshō made). Tokio: Nihon bungeisha (日本文芸社), 2008.

Unden Shintō

I was introduced to an interesting series of books by one of my professors who has devoted his research career to medieval Shintō. The series is called “Shintō Taikei” 神道大系 and currently consists of about 120 volumes each dedicated to a historical source (like “Kojiki” 古事記or “Nihonshoki” 日本書紀) or a particular subject (like “Tendai Shintō” 天台神道 or “Shintō in Okinawa”). Basically the original texts, that are often handwritten, are converted into typed text to facilitate the reading. The kanji are not simplified and the kana-usage remains unaltered for maximum authenticity (in Japanese this is called honkoku 翻刻).

One volume out of this series that I have taken an interest in is titled “Unden Shintō” 雲傳神道.  ‘Un’ refers to the school’s  founder Jiun 慈雲(1718-1804) so ‘Unden’ could be translated as ‘the transmissions of Jiun’ and ‘Unden Shintō’ may be translated as ‘The way of the gods as transmitted by Jiun’. Jiun, who was a Shingon monk, advocated the revival of ‘Ryōbu Shintō’ 両部神道, a set of beliefs that was popular among adherents of esoteric Buddhism in the first centuries after the introductions of Buddhism. In Ryōbu Shintō Buddhist concepts are integrated into the native Japanese Shintō relgion. Besides Buddhism and Shintō, Jiun also deemed Confucianist principles important for Japanese society. 

His writings were influential during the Edo-period and remained popular during the Meiji-period. However, quite a few of his contemporaries adhered to the nativist theories and disregarded Buddhism or least demanded a clear separation between Shintoist and Buddhist practices. Therefore, we can hardly call his vision on Japanese religion the dominant one for his time. 

I analysed a part of this volume of the Shintō Taikei series in which a ceremony called ‘Shingi Kanjō’ 神祇灌頂 is explained. According to the writings the ceremony has its origins in India were it was performed when the crown prince ascended the throne. Water from the Four Great Seas (四大海 shidaikai, the sea surrounding Shumisen 須弥山  [Skt. Sumeru सुमेरु]) was poured over the head of the crown prince out of a golden vase.

At some point during the explanation of this ceremony the author made the following statement:

“神ト云ヒ佛ト云ヒ人ト云フ、是假名ニシテ、其心體ハ同ク不思議ナルガ故ニ、唯タ信十分ナレバ十分ニ圓滿シ、信五分ナレバ五分ニ得益ス。”

My first attempt to translate this: 

“Wheter you call it a Kami, a Buddha or a person, they are all just temporary names, their spirit and their body are equally marvellous. Therefore, if you believe for 100%, you will attain harmony for 100%, if you believe for 50%, you will attain harmony for 50%.”

 Even though the tendency of the time was to try to recreate what was believed to be authentically Japanese by removing foreign influences, Jiun did no such thing. He kept believing that Shintoism and Buddhism were not two different ways to see reality, but that they have always been intertwined and always should be. He seemed to be influenced by the spirit of his time however in the fact that he did

 not consider Buddhism to be superior to Shintō, as most of his predecessors did.

Sources:

• Imai, Jun (今井淳), Yamamoto, Shinkō (山本真功). 『神道大系: 雲傳神道』. Tokyo: Shintō Taikei Hensan-kai (神道大系編纂会), 1990.

Hirata Atsutane

I analysed a part of a book called “Tamadasuki ”  (『玉襷』1832) by nativist scholar Hirata Atsutane (平田篤胤; 1776-1843). In the part I found, Hirata talks about the function of the kamidana, as well the proper rituals at the time.

He starts of by saying that a kamidana is a kind of himorogi 神籬 (basically a primitive sanctuary, but the exact meaning of the word seems to have changed over time) in which the eight thousand gods dwell. As it is an alternative to going to an actual shrine, it should be treated with respect. Since it is placed on the inside of the house it is prone to be tainted by impurity (けがれ kegare)　if the residents of the house are, for one reason or another, impure.

After this, Hirata gives an example. When one of his parents passes away he mourns for 50 days and in the case of one of his grandparents 30 days. During this period one should refrain/he refrains from performing the rituals or prayers towards the gods. When the mourning period has ended the rituals are resumed after a ritual cleansing (身滌祓 misogiharai). Hirata probably means that the performing of rituals by an impure person (because of the loss of a family member) will cause the impurity to spread to the kamidana.

He says that it is also possible to ask a distant relative (someone who is not officially in the mourning period) to take over the rituals during this time, but one must let him execute Bekka Kessai 別火潔斎 (I will have to look into the exact meaning of this word, but at this point it appears to me that it is a kind of abstinence that involves him using a different [sacred?] fire to cook his meal than the people who are tainted because of the mourning).

This description by Hirata is likely to seem very strict to modern people, but it gives an interesting insight into rituals observed by at least a number of people in the first half of the 19^th century. We must note, however,  that Hirata is a nativist scholar (a so-called kokugakusha国学者 ) and that his work shows an explicit preference for Shintoism and an equally explicit disregard for Buddhism. It is therefore not completely clear that the rituals he speaks of are descriptive or simply prescriptive. There may have been a lot of his contemporaries who either had no kamidana at all in their homes or executed rituals that were more adapted to their personal or local customs. Furthermore, it is thinkable that certain practises that are said to be typical of Buddhist rituals (the burning of incense, the use of singing bowls etc.) were used to venerate the kami as well by the commoners, on purpose or perhaps out of sheer ignorance.

Sources:

• Rinsen-shoten (臨川書店).『神道大辭典』(Shintō dai-jiten). Tokyo: Heibonsha edition (平凡社版), 1969.

• Shields, James Mark. Critical Buddhism: engaging with modern Japanese Buddhist thought. Farnham: Ashgate Publishing, Ltd., 2011.

Ikebukuro: the Nichiren school and the "right" Nichiren school

I am quite fortunate when it comes to being in the right place at the right time. On the 16^th of October (Sunday) 2011, I visited the temple-shrine complex I used to visit regularly a few years ago and I was lucky enough to get there at the time of a matsuri 祭 (festival). This time however the background knowledge on Japanese religion enabled me to identify the building about which I always wondered whether it was a Shintō shrine or a Buddhist temple at the time. Even though this structure looks rather Buddhist at first sight, a lot of vermillion tori 鳥居, statues of foxes and other signs clearly indicating Inari no kami 稲荷神  worship can be found on the temple grounds.

The inscription above the entrance reads “Kishimo-jin” 鬼子母神 (the fierce child-and-mother-kami) and gives away the temple’s affiliation:  Nichiren-shū 日蓮宗, as my later research confirmed. According to the legend, this deity was at first a malevolent being that fed on children, eventhough she had (tens of) thousands of children herself. Shaka-nyorai 釈迦如来　(शाक्यमुनि Śākyamuni) intended to punish this creature for her wicked deeds by hiding one of her children and the deity was deeply saddened by the disappearance of her child. Finally realising the pain she inflicted upon the hearts of the mothers whose children she devoured, she showed remorse for her cruel ways of the past and became the protector of children.

(some other pictures of the temple ground I took a few years ago:)

On the temple grounds I was approached by some youngsters while I was observing the celebrations. As I have often been approached by Japanese in similar situations I assumed that they would tell me a thing or two about the festivities, hand me a leaflet and the like so I was inclined to hear them out. After the introductions however, they asked me if I would like to see what another, nearby temple looks like on the inside. I was aware of the fact that there was another old temple down the road so I naturally decided to join them. However, I soon realised that these people where young members of another Buddhist school called Nichirenshō-shū 日蓮正宗 (“the right Nichiren-school”). It was clear that they were trying to lure me into their temple in order to convert me, but since I am doing research on religion, I decided to play along for a while. The temple seemed fairly new (perhaps built only a few decades ago) and looked somewhat like some of the Protestant Churches I have encountered in the United States of America. Upon entering the premises they asked me to join them in prayer reciting “Namu myōhō renge-kyō” 南無妙法蓮華経. We sat down on benches - that by the way only made my impression of being in a Christian church stronger - amidst a crowd of people that was coming and going freely, chanting this single sentence. Placed on the altar was an incense burner, some vases, a singing bowl and in the centre an elaborate calligraphy of the aforementioned sutra. What immediately struck me was the absence of statues, only adding to the comparison with a protestant church. Afterwards, I was taken upstairs to a room where several groups of people where chatting. After being treated to some ice coffee, I was introduced to some members who gladly explained me about their beliefs, why Nichirenshō-shū is the “right” version of this school and the like. The main difference between this school and the Nichiren-shū is that the former focuses solely on the sentence we quoted earlier which they call daimoku 題目 for this is said to represent the Buddha inside of every one of us. They told me they believe the enshrining of statues of Bodhisattvas, foxes and so forth to be useless.  At this point, my suspicion that this school/temple is going to be of no use whatsoever for my research was confirmed. I did not make it to the exit however before hearing out a women who, as opposed to the others who were kind and even slightly reserved, expressed her disaproval of worshipping the horrific image of the crucified Jesus Christ. After making sure I did not possess a Bible, a crucifix and even lucky charms sold at Japanese shrines/temples (this school opposes to this kind of practices) she invited me to come and pray with them regularly in the future, but I politely declined. Feeling increasingly that I was no longer regarded as a foreign researcher of Japanese culture, but as a possible member of this sect, I decided to leave as soon as possible. On my way out one of the youngsters I was first approached by joined me and suggested we should recite the daimoku for five minutes to take leave from the Buddha. After doing so, I thanked him and left.

Sources:

• Tanaka, Yoshiyasu (田中義恭).『面白いほどよくわかる仏像の世界: 仏像の種類・歴史から鑑賞のポイントまで』(Omoshiroi hodo yoku wakaru butsuzō no sekai: butsuzō no shurui, rekishi kara kanshō made). Tokio: Nihon bungeisha (日本文芸社), 2008.

Namahage: the New Year's Ogre

Note: The following blog entry does not really concern syncretism (or at least as far as I know), but it is an exquisite example of folk religion. 

In the North of Japan’s main island, ogres visit the households where children reside on New Year’s Eve (Ōmisoka 大晦日).  These mysterious ogres called Namahage ナマハゲ  supposedly leave their residence in the mountains once a year to come down and make sure the children are being good.

Two men, traditionally bachelors,  dress up as namahage wearing horrifying masks, a raincoat made of straw and an imitation knife. In this guise they enter the houses by surprise, growling and moving about wildly. They ask whether the children have been good or bad, if they have not been too lazy, if they cry too much etc.  and then encourage them to behave during the coming year. While the parents are generally amused by the conduct of these visiting gods, some children appear to be genuinely frightened.

The resemblance with a folkloric character from the Low countries is striking. At least since the 19^th century the benevolent Sinterklaas (Saint Nicholas) is said to be accompanied by a black servant on his mission to deliver presents and candy to all the good children on the 6^th of December.  Zwarte Piet (Black Pete), as he is called, has in recent times acquired jester-like  features, but originally he played the severe, punishing counterpart of the forgiving Sinterklaas. While the namahage would punish lazy children by dragging them into the mountains, Zwarte Piet would put the bad children in his bag and take them away to his home in Spain. In the Alpine regions the somewhat dangerous aspect of Saint Nicholas’ servant survived in the devil-like Krampus.

Is it a universal tendency of mankind to scare the youngsters in order to make them behave or is there a link, perhaps through the unique relationship of the Japanese and the Dutch throughout the Edo period?

Sources
Ekubota, Hiromichi (久保田裕道). 『日本の神さま』(Nihon no kami-sama). Tokyo: PHP Kenkyūsho (PHP研究所), 2008.

Faber, Paul. Sinterklaas overzee: avonturen van een reislustige heilige. Amsterdam: KIT Publishers, 2006.

Greene, Meg. Japan: A Primary Source Cultural Guide. New York: The Rosen Publishing Group, 2005.

Nerima

In Nerima 練馬 I encountered some interesting expressions of folk religion. First, I discovered a temple of Ji-sect (Ji-shū ji 時宗) called Ji-shū Amida-ji時宗阿弥陀寺. Even though the temple itself is quite interesting, my attention was drawn by a small shrine on the temple grounds. I had a hard time identifying the deity that was enshrined in it, for it was adorned with red bibs and the like, making it difficult to see what was underneath. Since the temple is called the Ji-shū Amida-ji, Amida 阿弥陀(Amitābha अमिताभ) would be a fair guess, but as the statue is not in the main temple it is more likely to depict Jizō-bosatsu　(地蔵菩薩 (क्षितिगर्भ Kṣitigarbha) who is often dressed up with red clothing by parents who have lost a child. There are, however, other instances of votive statues being dressed up in a similar fashion and since I could neither detect the monk’s staff nor the shaved head so typical of Jizō-bosatsu I cannot identify the statue with certainty.

What I can say is that the statue seems to have quite some visitors, probably inhabitants of the residential area in which the temple is located. The flowers seem rather fresh and the red hat, the bib and the doll that is being offered to the statue seem relatively clean. All in all, this shrine looks very Japanese. To my knowledge Buddhist deities are not adorned in this way on the continent.

I continued my search and just across the street I found a Shintō 神道shrine. On the shrine grounds there were two remarkably large shinboku 神木 (sacred trees) and a few medium size buildings. For the second time that day my attention was soon diverted to something else: a small shrine that was separated from the main shrine ground by a narrow street, but still appeared to be a part of it. This time I discovered something that was clearly an example of syncretism. In the shrine stood a small statue of Fudō myōō 不動明王 (Skt: Acalanātha अचलनाथ) , one of the Five Wisdom Kings in Esoteric Buddhism. As Esoteric Buddhism in South Asia was already heavily influenced by Hinduism and passed on to Japan only after being reinterpreted by Chinese and Korean monks it is unlikely that the worship of this deity would be approved by the first disciples of the historical Buddha Siddhārtha Gautama सिद्धार्थ गौतम. As can be noted on the pictures below this Buddhist deity is enshrined in a way that combines several religious traditions. To the left and the right of the statue flowers are offered, which is Buddhist custom (in Shintō shrines branches of the sakaki 榊 tree are often preferred). However, displaying a porcelain vessel on this kind of offering stand (sanbō 三方) is a Shintoist custom. Much more obvious than that even are the pieces of paper (shide 紙垂) that are attached to a sacred rope (注連縄 shimenawa). These items refer to an ancient myth about the sun goddess Amaterasu Ōmikami 天照大神 in which she is drawn out of a cave and prevented from re-entering by means of a boulder and a rope in order to end the darkness on earth.

In short, this Buddhist deity is enshrined in a rather Shinoist manner. On the other hand, we must note that analysing the shrine thus would possibly seem farfetched to the people who maintain this shrine as their “religious reflexes” seem to consist of two parts they consider to be one.  

Finally, in the upper left corner of the building there is a picture, presumably of a deceased family member of the people who visit this shrine. This particular element of the shrine cannot be defined as being either Buddist or Shintoist as it is common to enshrine the ancestors in the Buddhist butsudan as wel as in the Shintoist soreisha 祖霊舎.

Ueno: Ningyō kuyō

On the 25th of September I ventured into Kūkai’s World: it was the last day of an exhibition called Kūkai to Mikkyō bijutsuten 空海と美術展 in one of the large buildings situated in Ueno -park上野公園 and I felt this was an excellent opportunity to get some input for my research. The exhibition was rather impressive, but since it was the last day, I got caught in the stream of visitors and soon arrived at the exit without having the time to carefully examine every object.

On my way out of the park I was lucky enough to encounter something even more relevant for my research. When I passed by the Kiyomizu Kannondō 清水観音堂 (I visited the main temple a few years ago in Kyōto, but there is a branch located in Ueno-park as well).  I saw preparations being made for a ceremony so I decided to stick around. A fellow spectator was kindly enough to explain me a thing or two: the ceremony, which is called Ningyō kuyō人形供養, basically consists of the ritual burning of dolls. These dolls are generally donated to the temple by women who have become a mother in the past year.  They (some of them) consider their newly born to be a gift from Kannon 観音(Avalokiteśvara अवलोकितेश्वर) who heard their prayers in which they expressed the desire to bear a child.