Author: John D. (Page 104 of 202)

Syncretic revival

The life-force within trees sacred to both Shinto and Buddhism

I’ve recently received a copy of the doctorate by Aike Rots entitled ‘The Forests of the Gods: Shinto, Nature and the Rediscovery of Sacred Space’.  People may recall that he wrote an excellent account of the work he was doing in an earlier Green Shinto posting here.

There is so much material in his thesis that it is going to take me a long time to read, but flipping through it this afternoon brought to my attention an interesting religious scholar called Yamaori Tetsuo (born 1931).  He has been a professor at the National Museum of Japanese History, director general of the International Research Center for Japanese Studies.  Amongst other works he’s written Nihonjin no reikonkan (The Japanese People’s View of the Soul), Wandering Spirits and Temporary Corpses, and Aiyoku no Seishin-shi (A Spiritual History of Lust).

Yamaori Tetsuo (source unknown)

Yamaori is critical of the politicians and religious authorities who want to restore the post-Meiji arrangements, as in State Shinto.  Instead he calls for the return of Shinto-Buddhist syncretism, as was the case in Japan for some 1000 years.  One of his arguments is the extent to which Japanese culture is permeated by syncretism.  Take Noh for instance, about which he writes….

Noh represents the synthesis of Buddhism and Shinto. If even one of those two elements were removed, the art form wouldn’t have survived.  Noh plays have long impressed people because they describe humanity’s relationship with the dead and the world of death.”

Unlike other stage arts, noh audiences are not supposed to applaud at the beginning or during a performance, and sometimes not even at the end.  “That’s the way it should be considering its origin. Noh performances were offered to Buddha and Shinto deities, and people were just allowed to observe,” Yamaori said. “You should keep quiet until the last performer leaves the stage. It’s proper to show respect to Buddha and the deities.”

Yamaori’s vision has had practical consequences, and in the piece below Gabi Greve writes of the Association of Buddhist and Shinto Holy Places (Shinbutsu Reijo Kai).  (The page from which it comes has other items about syncretic developments: check out http://japanshrinestemples.blogspot.jp/2014/05/shinbutsu-pilgrims.html)

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A shrine on Mt Hiei, part of the Tendai temple of Enryaku-ji

A total of 150 shrines and temples make up ‘Shinbutsu Reijo Kai’  (Association of Buddhist/Shinto Holy Places). The association was inaugurated in March 2008 in response to an appeal made by religious scholar Tetsuo Yamaori and others. Its objective is to bring back to the present age the spiritual climate of the past in which Japanese people respected both ‘kami’ and ‘hotoke‘ (Buddha) in the belief that they all coexisted, and to contribute to the peace of mind of modern people and the stability of society.

Japanese people have been making pilgrimages to shrines and temples since old times. The pilgrimage routes start from Ise Shrine in Mie Prefecture and go through Wakayama, Nara, Osaka, Hyogo and Kyoto prefectures before reaching the final stop at Enryakuji Temple on Mt. Hiei in Shiga Prefecture. The association said it wants each individual to choose the way and route suitable to him or her in making a pilgrimage.

On Sept. 8, about 230 Shinto and Buddhist priests paid a visit to Ise Shrine to mark the start of the pilgrimage. It was the first time that prominent Buddhist figures formally visited the shrine.

The Shingon patriarch leads an interfaith procession down the steps from Naiku, at Ise

Waterfall misogi

Lawrence Barrow is an up and coming English potter based in Kyoto, with an interest in traditional aspects of Japanese culture.  On his blog (see here) he has written of participating in a syncretic misogi group at the Kiyotaki River in the north-west of Kyoto. The group is open to all.

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Preparing to enter the waterfall (all pictures by Lawrence Barrow)

禊 – Waterfall ‘Misogi’
By Lawrence Barrow On June 1, 2014

Preparing for takigyo
The Kiyotaki River runs through the mountains west of Kyoto. It is a sanctuary of coolness of a hot summer’s day and so I went exploring the upper reaches of the river on this sweltry first of June. A narrow road cuts through the wooded ravine and leads to a waterfall known as Kuyanotaki 空也瀧. It was here that I had my first experience of 滝修行 takigyo (waterfall misogi). This is a Shinto practice of ritual purification.

In the midst of the forest, a veil of water splashed down a craggy cliff; passing a red torii, we discovered a group of takigyo practitioners, the men were dressed in white robes and were performing some invocations & warm-up exercises. Then they began scrubbing a sacred boulder, it was engraved with kanji and wreathed with plaited ropes, ‘shimenawa’, symbolising the purity of the Shinto faith. Two women were preparing flowers to be offered to the various mossy stone statues, some of which I recognised as the protector deity, Fudō Myō-ō as it was wielding a sword.

Near the cascading waters, a white-robed man made a few ritual claps, shouts and bows, and then waded into the pool and stood under the splatter of water with hands clasped in prayer and began chanting the heart sutra. This was my first time to see takigyo practiced and it was a fascinating sight. The man stood there for at least seven minutes continuously chanting, I could see he was being energised by the cold mountain water, receiving all the ki (vital energy) that fell from the sky and gathered in the river.

Kanzeon namu butsu

Kanzeon namu butsu ..
As it was a hot day I asked with enthusiasm if I may be allowed to enter the falls as a takigyo practitioner. Soon I was handed white robes which I donned in eager anticipation and then exchanged my flip-flops for a pair of white tabi. In a minute it was my turn to wade into the pool. I was not fearful of the torrent of water but held onto the rocks under the falls and let myself be splashed by the waterfall. I chanted the  Kannon-sama chant with hands in gassho, while the water pelleted my head, shoulders and back. It was a truly exhilarating few minutes. The coldness and the force of the water was strong enough to be invigorating yet not painful.

On exiting the falls I felt purified; soon I was offered a cup of coffee and began chatting with some of the takigyo practitioners; one member had been visiting this waterfall shrine every month for the past twenty-five years and travelling all the way from Okayama prefecture. We shared a picnic lunch of onigiri (rice balls), tofu, watermelon and strawberries. I promised under the falls that I would return for another ‘misogi’.

June coolness –
veiled in a white cascade
my first ‘misogi’

The shrine at the Kiyotaki waterfall to the north-west of Kyoto

Magatama fashion

One of my students came to class wearing a magatama round his neck today.  When I asked him where he’d got it from, to my surprise he told me he’d ordered it from amazon.  (Click here or here for examples.)

Magatama are comma-shaped beads which together with the sword and the mirror form part of the imperial regalia.  No one is certain about the meaning of the bead, and there are theories to do with being a component of the life-force or a hook for catching good luck. (For the Wikipedia page, click here.)

I was intrigued why the student had chosen such an item and whether there was a religious element to his choice of jewelry.  At first he said no, but then on reflection said something interesting about it making him feel more Japanese.

It struck me as part of a general rise in patriotic feeling among the young that has taken place over the past twenty years.  It was given a particular boost during the time of prime minister Koizumi, whose right-wing allies took advantage of the times to bemoan the lack of patriotism in society and to demand the rewriting of history books so as to erase ‘masochistic’ admissions of wrong-doing and assert greater pride in the country’s achievements.

Not long afterwards the power spot boom took place, and there was a notable upturn in the number of young people visiting shrines.  Many were young women, who flocked to ‘enmusubi’ shrines in search of good love connections, but there were also many who were motivated by a desire to learn more of history and the nation’s spiritual essence.

With the worsening of relations with China and Korea, nationalism has been on the rise in the past few years.  And now with the World Cup in progress, patriotic devotion is on display whenever one turns on the television, eagerly encouraged by commentators delighted by the identification of fans with the national team.  Here indeed is Japan as one big family, ready to scream or cry in union depending on the result.  For the younger generation, feeling Japanese is becoming increasingly important, and one can’t help wondering whether as a result the fashion for magatama pendants is going to spread.

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In terms of the World Cup, Japan Today carries an article concerning tv reporters asking people why they weren’t watching and supporting Japan’s match against the Ivory Coast.  Fuji TV’s coverage managed to set off some grumbles via Twitter.

“‘Tokudane’ is claiming that people who don’t watch the Japanese team in action are going against the flow,” said one. “Is not watching really such a bad thing?”

“More than feeling upset, I’m aghast. It’s like they’re suggesting people who don’t watch are unpatriotic,” remarked another.

“People have the freedom to watch or not to watch, so leave it be already, will you?” a third objected. “Do people absolutely have to watch soccer? Is not watching some kind of crime?”

J-Cast News didn’t confine its complaints just to Fuji TV, however. On the “Sukkiri” program on rival NTV, it seems a live feed showed a reporter falling in step with people who were jogging around the imperial palace, where he brayed out to them, “Japan is losing to Ivory Coast!”

Illustration of the stages in the making of a magatama

Oomoto workshop


The arts-oriented, universalist Oomoto Shinto sect will be running a programme starting in late October aimed at foreigners interested in learning more about them. It is held at Kameoka and Ayabe, near Kyoto. and programme details are below.  I’m told that a donation of something like $35 or more a day would be appropriate.  If you would like to apply, or get further information, contact KATSUYA KIMURA <k-kimura[at]oomoto.or.jp>

For a report of a previous workshop, please click here. For more about Oomoto, click here. For the comprehensive Oomoto homepage, click here.

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The International Oomoto Autumn Workshop will be held between October 27th to November 3rd, 2014. The broad program for the event follows:

October 27th, 2014
Arrive at Oomoto in Kameoka, Kyoto Prefecture

October 28th
08:30-09:00     Morning meeting with Oomoto staff (Introducing yourself)
09:00-10:00     Tour of the Oomoto grounds
13:30-15:00     Lecture: History of Oomoto
17:10-17:40     Evening service

The water-basin at Ayabe exemplifies the emphasis Oomoto put on aesthetics

October 29th
06:30-07:00     Morning service at the shrine
10:00-11:30     Lecture: Oomoto Poem Festival and Ro-ei / chanting a poem
13:30-15:00     Lecture: Esperanto and Oomoto
17:10-17:40     Evening service at the shrine

October 30th
06:30-07:00     Morning service at the shrine
10:00-11:30     Lecture: Teachings of Oomoto
13:30-15:00     Lecture: Activity of ULBA
17:10-17:40     Evening service at the shrine

October 31st
06:30-07:00     Morning service at the shrine
10:00-11:30     Esperanto Class
13:30-15:00     Lecture: Activities of Oomoto
17:10-17:40     Evening service at the shrine
19:00-21:00     Evening program with Oomoto people

November 1st
06:30-07:00     Morning service at the shrine
09:00-11:30     Visit Mount Takakuma in Kameoka
13:00-19:00     Visit Kyoto city

November 2nd
Oomoto Autumn Grand Festival in Ayabe

November 3rd
Leave Oomoto

Oomoto origin

A shrine at Ayabe, Kyoto Prefecture, one of the two main bases of Oomoto along with that at Kameoka

 

The Oomoto sect is particularly open to foreigners, and has established overseas branches.  The well-known Japanologist, Alex Kerr, was involved with them from 1977, helping run their art seminars.  It’s also of interest for its inspirational role in the formation of aikido.

On their home page Oomoto describe themselves in the following way: “Oomoto teaches that many kami do exist, but they all come from the same Supreme God of the Universe, so in effect there is just one God. When Oomoto followers pray to a particular kami by name they understand this is just one manifestation of the single God. Even the name “Oomoto” emphasizes this point.  It translates as “Great Source” or “Great Origin.”

But how did the sect begin?  It originated in the late nineteenth century when the founder, an illiterate peasant woman called Nao Deguchi, had a series of visions, and in the passage below an account is given by a contemporary.  The extract comes from a book called Kaiso-den, translated by Charles Rowe and Yasuko Matsudaira, and was published by the Oomoto Foundation in 1982.  (Later Nao’s vision was taken up and developed by her son-in-law Onisaburo Deguchi, the main theorist of the sect.)

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http://www.oomoto.or.jp/English/enKyos/kaisoden/index.html

Nao Deguchi (1837-1919) (source unknown)

It all began on the night of the lunar new year of 1892. Nao, then fifty-five, had a mysterious dream in which she found herself in the midst of a series of palaces, many-tiered and beautiful beyond anything she could have imagined. Choosing what appeared to be the central palace, she entered through the main portal and beheld, sitting upright on a throne, a divine figure with noble aspect and a long beard. Nao, overwhelmed by the sublime appearance of this godlike personage, approached as if entranced. Raising his majestic form to its full height, the divine figure took Nao’s hand and led her deep into the palace where they came to a staircase leading up to a shrine. Ascending the steps alone, the divinity intoned some words of prayer and then led Nao back to the main hall.

Nao, still in trance, left the palace and turned to what she conceived to be the northeast. There, beyond a large gate, loomed a palace even more imposing than the first. Enthroned within was another divine figure, the sublimity of whose person and the brilliance of whose jewels made Nao tremble with awe.

This divinity rose slowly from his throne, and proceeding straight up to Nao, looked fixedly at her face. The inspection over, he resumed his throne without uttering a word. Nao, terrified, ran out of the palace and through the gate as fast as she could.

Outside, she beheld yet another magnificent palace, inside which she discovered her late husband, Masagorô. Forgetting all else, she ran to him, and as the two were excitedly talking over old times, Nao abruptly awoke from her dream.

The next night and the next Nao had similar dreams, and from about this time a mysterious spiritual aura seemed to settle around her.

The Beginning of the Foundress’ Spirit Possession
On February 3, 1892, Nao paid a visit to her daughter Yoneko in Nishimachi. Ryôko and Sumiko, then eleven and nine years old, remained at home. Lonely and cold, they huddled around a charcoal fire, and talking about their sister in Nishimachi, they soon grew drowsy and fell asleep. At about midnight, they awoke with a start to hear a loud voice shouting, “Sumiko! Ryôko! Open the door!”

Family harmony in the beautiful surrounds of Ayabe

The voice was their mother’s, but never before had they heard her speak in such a loud and commanding tone. The two girls ran to open the door. The Nao who strode into the house, far from her usual gentle self, showed an imperious presence that would have quelled the devil himself.

“Go to your sister’s house at once,” she ordered, “and tell her to light thirty-six candles and chant the name of the holy sutra.”

The astonished girls ran barefoot out of the house clutching their wooden clogs in their hands. After running for a while, they paused to catch their breath and one of the girls said, “She really did say light thirty-six candles and recite the name of the holy sutra, didn’t she?”

“What would make her say a thing like that?” “You don’t think she’s gone off her head like Yoneko?” “What will we do if Mother goes crazy too?”

Arriving at the Ôtsuki household, they gave Ôtsuki and their sister Nao’s message. Ôtsuki muttered to himself, “It seems their mother has finally gone mad,” and to the girls, “All right, all right. Go home and tell your mother not to worry. Yoneko is lighting the candles and getting ready to chant the name of the sutra.”

The girls left Ôtsuki’s house and returned home, but their mother was nowhere to be found. Anxiously searching the house, the two girls found their mother’s kimono in one of the rooms. Hearing a noise outside by the well, they went to see, and there, in the freezing weather, was their mother bathing in buckets of icy water.*  (* Pouring buckets of cold water over one’s person is standard practice for Japanese ascetics.)

When Nao returned to the house, the girls reported, “We’ve been to Nishimachi and said what you told us.” “Well done,” their mother replied. “You must be frozen. You’d better get into bed before you catch cold.” This time it was their mother’s usual calm, tender voice, and the girls went to sleep much relieved.

Full house at the Ayabe shrine for its annual festival

From this time on, Nao’s icy ablutions continued every evening, and an invisible spiritual presence entered and left her at intervals. This presence seemed to push up with great power from the pit of her stomach, and Nao would begin roaring in a great voice not her own. In her own quiet voice she would reply or ask questions and the spirit would roar in response. In this way Nao and the spirit possessing her carried on their strange dialogue, and it was thus that the Foundress’ possession began.

Nao was perfectly aware when the spirit entered her. First her body became extraordinarily heavy, and she felt a great force in her abdomen. At this time all feeling of fatigue left her and her posture became erect and rigid, like an effigy in stone. Presently her body began to rock backward and forward and she would raise and lower her feet alternately. At such times Nao’s chin would be drawn in, her eyes glittering, and with tremendous pressure from the pit of her stomach the voice would come forth in a solemn tone.

Nao, who did not care for all this bellowing in a loud masculine voice, would occasionally clench her teeth, determined not to speak. In vain. The great voice would burst forth even so, forcing her mouth to open.

Nao Questions the Spirit
When the Foundress first entered this state of spirit possession she was startled and alarmed by what was happening to her, and only wished to rid herself of the intruder. Since this proved to be impossible, she eventually settled down and began to question the entity as to who and what he was.

“Who are you?” “I am Ushitora no Konjin.” “Surely you are trying to deceive me.” “I am God. God does not lie.” “Are you really such a great god? How can I be sure you aren’t just a fox or a badger?”* “I am not a fox or a badger. I am the god who will reconstruct the world.”  (* In Japan the fox and the badger are often supposed to be the manifestations of low spirits that delight in perplexing or tormenting mortals.)

After repeated questioning, Nao was forced to the conclusion that she was indeed possessed by some form of deity. She also came to understand that her lifelong sufferings had been predetermined as a trial, a cleansing of body and spirit in preparation for her use as a pillar for the divine plan, and she resigned herself to a life of complete obedience to the spirit’s urgings.

Before reaching this conclusion, however, true to her cautious nature, she worried a great deal that she might be leading mankind astray with these pronouncements of the “reconstruction of the greater world”. And so she consulted priest-mediums and occultists of various kinds to examine the spirit and pass judgement on its authenticity.

Oomoto rituals are characterised by their aesthetic appeal and belief in the spiritual nature of beauty

Santa Claus link?

The deer statue at Kyoto's Yoshida Shrine, with a message from the kami - relative to the gift-bearing reindeer of Santa Claus?

 

When one thinks of deer in Japan, one thinks naturally of Nara Park and the connection of the animal with the Fujiwara clan, for whom it was a sacred animal.  One of the clan’s founding kami, Takemikazuchi no mikoto, arrived there in 768 from Kashima (Ibaraki Prefecture) riding a white deer, and from that point the animal was considered sacred.

A deer enjoys the sanctuary of Kasuga Taisha in Nara

During some recent reading I happened upon the reindeer Tungus clan of Manchuria.  They not only herded the animals, but rode them and milked them.  Interestingly, the Northern Tungus sacrificed deer to their gods (sometimes substituting horses), and in their folklore a large white deer was thought to carry clansmen to the ‘other river world’.  It was under their influence that reindeer herding spread west with the Samoyeds to the people of the Urals and on to the Lapps.

It is of course from Lapland that the shamanic figure of Father Christmas comes, flying in mystic fashion across the skies with his sled and reindeer.  The animal would have once aided shamanic flight into a different dimension of reality, and in later centuries this became co-opted by Christian teaching to provide a message of warmth in the bleak midwinter.  The birth of the new year was symbolised in the birth of the baby Jesus, and pagan celebrations to overcome the cold were made into a time of gift-giving for a saviour figure.

Now here’s an intriguing thought: could aspects of the Tungus deer cult have travelled with migration into the Korean peninsula, playing a part in the Fujiwara clan mythology?  It would certainly fit in with the wider picture of continental culture moving down the peninsula and into Japan.  Both Yayoi and Yamato culture most likely derived from Korea.

It’s a strange thought, but perhaps the deer that nestles at the Fujiwara shrine of Yoshida Jinja, near to where I’m writing these words, is connected to the flying reindeer that sped across the skies in my childhood imagination.  Shamanic in origin, the power animal has become associated with religions on opposite sides of the world.  In one case the creature pulls a sled, and in the other it serves as vehicle for the kami – deer spirits that speak to the shamanic roots of religion everywhere.

Could this docile deer in Nara Park be related in mythological terms to Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer?

 

Japan’s foreign priest

Shinto priest, Florian Wiltschko (source unknown)

 

Green Shinto has carried an article on Japan’s first full-time foreign priest before.  Now the young Austrian, Florian Wiltschko, has featured in a Japan Times article.  Clarification should be made here that, contrary to the news report, he is not the first foreigner to qualify and work as a Shinto priest in Japan (see here and here for predecessors).  He is, however, the first foreigner to go through the officially licensed Jinja Honcho qualification process and get a full-time job at a Jinja Honcho shrine.

Reference to the ‘blue-eyed priest’ brings to mind the ‘blue-eyed samurai’ Will Adams, who was also a pioneering figure and fluent in Japanese.  But whereas Will Adams was the only ever Western samurai, the expectations are that Wiltschko will be followed by others.  Nonetheless his dedication, determination and fluency in Japanese are an indication that his trailblazing will be no easy act to follow.

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Florian Wiltschko, priest at Konno Hachimangu in Shibuya, downtown Tokyo (Photo Mami Maruko)

Blue-eyed Austrian finds calling at shrine
27-year-old Florian Wiltschko is Japan’s first foreign Shinto priest
BY MAMI MARUKO  Japan Times JUN 10, 2014

Walking through the torii, or gateway, to the quiet and serene Konnoh Hachimangu Shrine in Tokyo’s Shibuya Ward — minutes away from the hustle and bustle of Shibuya’s main “scramble crossing” — and being welcomed by a blond and blue-eyed Shinto priest seems almost surreal.

But once Florian Wiltschko starts talking, it is easy to forget that he is an Austrian, and that he started his career at the shrine two years ago.  “It was a calling,” says Wiltschko, a “gonnegi,” or priest, in a clear-toned voice.

Wiltschko, 27, is the first foreigner in Japan to become a Shinto priest.  “Walking this path (of Shintoism) has not been so easy, but there are many more days when I feel unparalleled joy in having chosen this job, and being able to continue this job,” he says in fluent Japanese.

Although Wiltschko put a lot of time, energy and study into becoming a priest, he says he didn’t intend to become one at first but the idea came quite naturally to him.  Born and raised in Linz, the third biggest town in Austria, Wiltschko had no connection to Japan at all before paying his first visit to the country in 2002, at age 15, when he accompanied his father, a geography teacher, on a sightseeing tour.

During his first visit, he bought a Shinto altar because he thought it was an interesting object, and installed it in his home back in Austria.  That altar, he says, was the beginning of his connection to Shintoism.  “I would pray every day at the altar, and that made me feel closer to Shintoism,” he recalled.

Taking more interest in Japan and reading many books about its history, culture and literature, he returned to visit several more times, and gradually became more intrigued with the world of Shintoism.  After graduating from high school in his hometown, he served in the army for nine months, and then came to Japan to serve an apprenticeship at a shrine in Aichi Prefecture.

"While it may not be much to look at now, Konno Hachimangu shrine was once the site of the household that’s believed to give the area its name: the Shibuya family." (Caption and photo by Time Out Tokyo)

He then went back to Austria to study Japanology at the University of Vienna, where he read a lot of books on the country, including Kojiki (“Records of Ancient Matters”), which he read in its original form, in Japanese.  He later returned to Japan to study Shintoism at Kokugakuin University in Tokyo. “I chose this route, because I heard this was the fastest way to take up Shintoism as a career,” Wiltschko says.

Immediately after graduating, he began working at Konnoh Hachimangu Shrine, which is run by the family of a former classmate of his at Kokugakuin.  He says his parents have always been supportive, never judging or questioning his choice to become a Shinto priest.

As their only child, he imagines that his parents must have been worried that he lived so far away. But having seen their son work contentedly as a priest, he says they are now happy for him. “I try to visit Austria from time to time, but whenever I plan something, my parents come to visit me in Japan instead,” he says, laughing, adding that during his parents’ last visit, they saw the place where he was living and working at the shrine and they seemed to be relieved that he had found such a nice environment, surrounded by kind colleagues.

Wiltschko wakes up at 5:30 a.m. along with his fellow priests and does chores around the shrine, such as cleaning the rooms and the grounds, and preparing breakfast to offer at the altar. During the day, he offers different kinds of “matsuri,” or festivals, at the shrine.

Sweeping the shrine and grounds is part of a priest's duties, as are making the daily offerings to the kami

“Humans can live peacefully, because “hachiman sama” (deity) is always beside us.  One of my biggest roles as a Shinto priest is to protect this place, so that people who visit the shrine can feel close to this land’s deity.  We make every effort to keep the place clean, bright, and refreshing,” he says.

That is why the young priest laments the fact that some Japanese don’t care to worship and give a prayer to the guardian deity when they visit the shrine.  “Some people just stop by at the shrine to have tobacco or a bento (boxed lunch), which is very sad,” he says, adding that he would like the Japanese to regain their common sense and conscience to protect and live in harmony with nature, which is deeply embedded in its culture.

Noting the shrine’s long history — 923 years — he says that it might be “an ideal environment, where the traditional spirit of Japan can still be encountered.  “I feel grateful to be here. I do have an iPhone, but I can feel and go back to nature whenever I clean up the place,” he says.

Wiltschko is often asked why he doesn’t attain Japanese citizenship because of his devoted attitude toward his career and fluent Japanese, he says.  But he doesn’t place any importance on nationality, and thus changing nationality doesn’t mean anything to him.

Although his colleagues jokingly tell him “today your eyes are blue as usual,” he says he normally doesn’t have any consciousness that he’s Austrian, especially in an environment where “no one talks about nationality.”  He says he will continue to be a Shinto priest for the rest of his life.

“I look forward to finding out what I can do with my career in the future. Perhaps I can nurture or educate the next generation through my career and activities at the shrine,” he says.  “I don’t have any grandiose vision, like I want to change Japanese society or the shrine or something,” Wiltschko says. “But I just want to devote myself to my career, enjoy the process of developing as a human being, and see where I end up.”

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