Author: John D. (Page 20 of 202)

Kifune’s Two Rocks

Kifune Shrine entrance steps

Yellow Boat
Kifune Shrine to the north of Kyoto stands in the village of Kibune, which is why many Japanese mistakenly call it Kibune Jinja. The shrine however insists on the proper pronunciation of Kifune – meaning, Yellow Boat.

The shrine is ancient and was once highly ranked. Still today it’s noted for its close connection with water and the rain kami, with streams cascading down hilly surrounds. The theme is maintained in the fortune slips that have to be immersed in water before they become legible.

The origin of the shrine concerns the eponymous Yellow Boat, for it’s said in ancient times that an imperial princess came by boat from Osaka to seek the source of the river. She managed to get all the way up to the slopes of Kibune, and the spot at which she stopped is commemorated now with a plaque that stands in the upper part of the shrine (Okunomiya). There you will find a rock boat, representing the one that she supposedly used. (One presumes the original had a yellowish tint.)

The rockboat at Kifune’s Okunomiya

The first question that comes to mind is why would anyone choose to travel in a rock boat? You could hardly imagine anything less practical, guaranteed to sink rather than float. The answer lies in the elevation of the princess to an ancestral kami. Since kami are immortal, they are associated with the most enduring of substances – rock. (For more on the subject, see this posting.)

The rock boat that stands in Kifune’s upper shrine is in fact a modern addition, for it was found in the mountains in 1996 with a shape suggestive of an ancient boat. Because of Shinto’s inclination to take chance and coincidence as signs of the divine, the rock was seen as sacred and installed at the shrine as a symbolic feature. You’ll sometimes see people in prayer before it.

The rock inscription of Izumi Shikibu’s poem

Culture rock
In the same small compound of Okunomiya is a rock of another kind, covered with the inscription of a poem by famed Heian court lady, Izumi Shikibu. She was twice married, the second time to the brother of her dead husband, and is closely associated with love – passionate love and broken love. Once when she was having relationship trouble (the husband she loved had turned his attentions to another), she came on pilgrimage here and composed a poem about the fireflies she saw.

Reflecting on my life –
the fireflies above the stream
seem to be my yearning soul
wandering free of my body

物思へば澤の螢も我身よりあくがれ出づる玉かとぞみる
mono omoeba sawa no hotaru mo wagami yori akugare izuru tama ka to zo miru

In her poem Izumi compared her love to the fireflies, flickering bright but briefly. Poems in Heian days were known as uta (songs), and as she sang her composition to the gods by way of an offering she heard a response seeking to console her. Not long afterwards the relationship with her husband improved.

Rocking on
The two rocks of Kifune thus encapsulate the role of cultural guardian that is an important aspect of Shinto. One marks Japan’s spiritual heritage, the other the artistic. The rock-gift of Mother Earth thereby unites the majesty of nature with human creativity, and in so doing it memorialises both.

Small as it is, Kifune Shrine is one of Green Shinto’s favourites, for it speaks to mankind’s inviolable bond with the environment. But more than that, it exemplifies the vital role that Shinto plays as a post-shamanic religion not only in sanctifying the spirit of place, but in preserving the communal sense of identity. So next time you are in Kyoto, take a ride upstream to Kifune, and you too may be moved by the power of rock to give substance to the unseen.

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For more about Kifune Shrine and its links with nature, see here or here.
For more about the spiritual quality of rocks, please look through the relevant Category in the righthand column of this page.

The power of water to give life and transform is reflected in fortune slips that only become legible when immersed

World Heritage (China connection 1)

Entrance to Asuka Jinja, with Mt Horai behind

Shingu Town in the Kumano region is well worth visiting, not the least because it is home to the splendid Hayatama Shrine, one of the three Kumano Great Shrines. Even more impressive is the striking Kamikura Shrine, squeezed beneath a boulder on top of a hill. Both are part of the Kii Peninsula World Heritage Site.

Green Shinto has previously covered the Shingu shrines as part of the research for the (recently reissued) Tuttle book, Japan’s World Heritage Sites. It was with some astonishment therefore that on a recent visit to Shingu I found a leaflet promoting the World Heritage Site of Asuka Shrine. Eh? How could this be? I knew I had visited all the sites mentioned in the Unesco registration, and I also knew I had done the rounds of Shingu before.

A visit to the shrine, some ten minutes walk from the JR station, soon solved the mystery. After the initial registration of the World Heritage Site in 2004, the shrine lobbied to be included because of its ancient roots and historical significance. Four years ago the request was granted and the shrine was added to the Unesco listing. (It has now also been added to the Green Shinto listing of World Heritage shrines.)

Asuka Shrine’s recognition had much to do with its spiritual importance for the syncretic Kumano faith of medieval times. As Asuka-oji, it had been the first stop for pilgrims to pray on the route from Hayatama Shrine to Nachi, for it was said the kami that had first descended on the Kamikura rock had next descended here.

Items of interest around the shrine included a memorial stone saying the legendary Emperor Jimmu had passed by on his way to Yamato during his journey of conquest . Whether or not the putative founding emperor ever existed is open to doubt, but more about that in a subsequent post.

Jofuku Shrine at Asuka Jinja, next to the Worship Hall and close to the river estuary where the Chinese expedititon supposed landed

Jofuku (Chinese Xu Fu)
The shrine also has a close connection with another legendary figure – the Chinese Xu Fu, known in Japan as Jofuku. According to tradition, Jofuku was the first Chinese to visit Japan, sometime in the early centuries BC, and thereby hangs an interesting story…

The legend of Xu Fu was first recorded in a Chinese document written in the Han Era around 2000 years ago. The events took place some 200 years or more before that, during the reign of the first Qin emperor. He wanted to live forever, and the scholarly Xu Fu told him there was an elixir on the easterly Isles of the Immortals (Horai san in Japanese) which could make him free from illness and death. He asked for permission to sail there, and was granted three thousand boys and girls to accompany him, together with a hundred workmen.

Jofuku’s grave in Jofuku Park

After that, according to the Chinese history text, Xu Fu arrived at an island with a wide plain and marsh, where he stayed and became king of the area. Where it was exactly was not specified, but in Japan there are several places with claims to being his final destination. Shingu is prominent among them.

The shrine literature suggests that having landed in Kumano, Xu Fu was satisfied he’d found his paradise in the warm Kumano climate and decided to stay rather than return to a strife-torn China. He even found an elixir in the form of the Tendai Uyaku plant (a member of the camphor family). After settling down in Kumano for the rest of his life, Xu Fu was transformed into Jofuku.

The hill behind the shrine is known as Mt Horai in honour of the Isles of the Immortals, and Buddhist images of kami have been found there, indicative of the strongly syncretic nature of Kumano spirituality. Next to the hill is the estuary of the Kumano River, and a stone monument can be found there marking the alleged spot where Jofuku’s expedition landed. Asuka also holds a small shrine dedicated to the Chinese adventurer (pic above).

Chinese gateway to Jofuku Park

Jofuku Park
A few minutes walk away, Shingu City have set up a Jofuku Park in the middle of which is the supposed site of his grave. The earliest record of this is in an early 18th century painting. (It’s reminiscent of the grave of King Arthur in Glastonbury, ‘discovered’ by medieval monks in the hopes of increased fame and pilgrimage.)

Jofuku Park was set up in 1994, ostensibly to promote closer friendship with China while cashing in on Chinese tourism. Since Jofuku was a Daoist, the number plays a special role. Around Jofuku’s burial place are the graves of seven of his followers. In the pond are seven carp, the walkway across the pond has seven markers, one for each of the Seven Virtues, and along the walled sides are seven bushy plants – the Tendai Uyaku which Jofuku took to be the elixir for which he had been in quest.

Tendai Uyaku plants, said by modern science to have medicinal qualities

According to tradition, Jofuku was a Culture Hero who introduced all kinds of skills to the area, ranging from farming and paper-making to boat-building and whaling. Interestingly, this came at a crucial moment for Japan, when it was moving from the Jomon to the Yayoi Era with significant changes to its culture and racial heritage. This has caused speculation as to whether Jofuku was a contributory figure, or simply a myth. (In fact evidence for Xu Fu being a real person came to light in 1982 when a village with his name was discovered in China, and there are several Xu Fu study groups there.)

Seven auspicious carp in the Seven Virtues pond

Benten Sect

The Benzaiten statue at Sandanbeki in Shirahama (Wakayama)

The Seven Lucky Gods are one of the most notable features of folk religion in Japan, spanning the artificial divide between Shinto and Buddhism. The most appealing of the seven for those concerned with creativity and the arts is the only female in the group, Benten or as she is also known, Benzaiten. She originated with the Hindu goddess Saraswati, and arrived in Japan after travelling across East Asia sometime around 1300 years ago.

Benten Shrines are associated with water and the unconscious. They are often on small islands or located by ponds. The three most famous are at Itsukushima near Hiroshima, Enoshima at Kamakura, and Tsukubusuma in Lake Biwa.

I’ve always been drawn to Benten shrines, so it was with great excitement that I learnt on a recent trip to Shirahama (in Wakayama) that there is a dedicated Benten sect (Benten-shu, in Japanese). The head shrine of the sect I was told is in Gifu.

Water asserting its power over rock

The Benten Shrine in Shirahama is located deep in the rock caves of Sandanbeki, once the hangout of pirates. It is now a top tourist sight, with a spectacular effect as the surging waves of the Pacific come thundering into the rocky inlets, throwing spray everywhere and creating a terrifying sound.

The atmospheric shrine is set back from the incoming tide but nevertheless glistens with salty water, a fit environment for the goddess. She is surrounded by a phalanx of statues, each of which possesses an attribute of benefit to the worshipper.

Benten herself was seated like a Thousand-armed Kannon, numerous arms emanating from her body holding the spiritual tools of esoteric Buddhism. Her manifestation in this guise is called Murodaibenzaiten (deity of water).

The sect has its own syncretic way of worshipping, and a noticeboard spelt out the correct manner. No bell, no clapping. “Put your hands together and bow three times and pray,” runs the instruction.

One other feature of interest was the original senja fuda (pilgrimage stickers), oriented to a generation reared on anime and manga. The cost for one was ¥100, and the idea was to choose among the five characters available and fill out your name and address before affixing it to a board or beam.

The five characters, supposedly apprentices to the priest, had powers in different spheres – one for Study and Knowledge, one for Luck with Money, one for Fulfilment in Love, one for Longevity and Health, and one for Traffic Safety. Needless to say, students flocked around them, eager to buy one to record their visit. It provides a striking exemplar of an ancient tradition brought up to date for contemporary tastes.

To learn about nature elements at Benten Shrines, click here. For more on Benten’s roots, here. All about the Seven Lucky Gods, here. For Benten-shu information in Japanese, see here where it is said the purpose of the sect is to commune with ‘the heart of water’.

A Shinto Film

“Shinto is not a religion. It is a spiritual culture nurtured for centuries by the Japanese people.”

So begins the trailer for a documentary film with the working title of Shinto: Kami no Michi by Polish director Tom Sajewski. His latest project is inspired by the animist roots of Shinto and the beauty of the shrines integrated in nature.

The documentary was made with the cooperation of a priest from Hakozaki Shrine and a priestess from Dazaifu Tenman-gu, both in Fukuoka. They exemplify the hereditary principle that remains very much a part of the modern priesthood, since in either case they belong to the families that run the shrines. They are the main characters in the film.

For the trailer Sajewski interviewed the priestess, and in answer to the question as to what is Shinto she responded with the quotation above. Of all the hundreds of definitions put forward over the years, it is one of the most apt and succinct that Green Shinto has come across. Like the gateless gate at the entrance to shrines, Shinto is something of a religionless religion.

Rev Tamura of Hakozaki Shrine

Asked about the content of the film, Tom Sajewski writes as follows:

An interwoven story of a Shinto priestess Hiroko and priest Kazu set against the unprecedented event of the abdication of Emperor Akihito in 2019.

Shinto has been largely inaccessible to documentary filmmakers until now. The film follows the public and private lives of two Shinto priests, revealing their joy and humor and dedication but also showing the inner workings of a uniquely Japanese philosophy.

To see the trailer for the film, please take a look at the following…
https://vimeo.com/378099156

(Though the shooting for the film is finished, Sajewski is looking for investors or co-producers for the post-production stage, such as the editing, etc.)

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Click on Dazaifu Tenmangu for a Green Shinto posting.
Contact Tom Sajewski directly to be involved with making the film.

Shonan Jinja (Singapore)

The following is excerpted with permission from a longer blog post by Edward J. Taylor which details the arduous access to the shrine ruins of Shonan Jinja and can be read here. (Wikipedia states that “the historical site remains highly inaccessible to the public, being located on a steep hillside and being quite far from the nearest jungle trail.”

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It was the Tiger of Malaya, Lieutenant-General Tomoyuki Yamashita, who first conceived of Shonan Jinja, to be built in order to commemorate the Japanese soldiers who died in Malaya during the remarkable 70 day dash to take Singapore, hyperbolically called the “Gibraltar of the East” by the British defenders. The design of the shrine was based on Tokyo’s Yasukuni Shrine, but expectations were even greater, as in time it would be second only to Tokyo’s Meiji Jingu, the centerpiece for a new city that would arise over the subsequent 30 or 50 years.   

Nearly ten thousand British and Australian POWs from the nearby internment camps of Changi, Sime Road and Adam Park were forced into labor, clearing a large portion of heavy jungle to build not only the shrine complex, but also a lengthy bridge akin to that found at Ise, and a flight of 94-step granite steps that led upward toward the gods.  There was also apparently a Christian Cross adjacent to the shrine, erected for the souls of the Allies killed in the fall of Singapore. History differs on whether the impetus for its construction came from a Japanese Colonel, or from the POWs themselves who balked at the building of the Japanese shrine unless they were allowed to construct their own memorial as well.  In any event, Shonan Jinja had a grand opening nine months later, on 15 February 1943, a year after the fall of Singapore.

The water basin was the only intact part of the shrine.  A trio of stone “doughnuts” were at each corner, indicating that a small structure had been built to provide shade for those who purified themselves before the climb to the honden further up the adjacent stone stairs.  These we found covered in vines and debris, though the surrounding network of roots had yet to displace the massive set of stone work that supported this upper level.  We moved along the jungle here, but found no trace of the network of buildings that had stood here.  Remarkable, since they had once covered an area of 1.9 square kilometers.      

There is some debate about who destroyed the shrine upon the Japanese surrender, either the British in a frenzy of revenge for the brutalities out at the POW camps, or the Japanese themselves as a means of preventing the allies from doing just that sort of desecration.  What is certain was that the locals would have made off with the scattered materials as they attempted to rebuild their kampong communities after the war.   Much later, even after those same kampongs were replaced by modern Singapore’s trademark HBD flats, the ruins of Shonan Jinja were declared a historic site by the National Heritage Board, though nothing has been done with them in the eighteen years since.   

Today, all that was left was the tangle of trees, a far cry from the typical cypress and camphor that tower over shrines on the Japanese mainland.  We made our way past the chōzubachi again to descend the steps down to the water.  A long sandō causeway had once led to the low wooden bridge.  We followed a concrete drainage awhile, but never did find any remnants of the old sandō (which later Googling revealed to have been to our left).  We bashed through jungle to get to the edge of the reservoir, looking for the remnants of the old bridge, namely the support posts that poked their heads above water in the photographs I’d seen online.  The posts proved elusive, as the most recent photos were a decade old, and it was high tide anyway. 

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On youtube there is a 1943 NHK programme featuring the shrine (2 mins from 1:23 to 3:30). For the Wikipedia page on Shonan Jinja please click here. (NB Wikipedia uses an alternative spelling, Syonan Jinja.)

Suwa Gods’ Crossing

Photos courtesy of Japan Today

Suwa Taisha is one of the country’s oldest shrines and well worth a visit for anyone near Nagano Prefecture. Green Shinto has covered the shrine before (click here for a fully illustrated account). This time we focus on the peculiar natural phenomenon pictured above, thanks to an article taken from Japan Today.

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Chasing the Gods’ Crossing By John Asano Jan 29, 2020

A glistening white road upon a frozen lake surface in central Nagano Prefecture is where the gods walk. Across Lake Suwa, a natural phenomenon referred to as “The Gods’ Crossing” appears in winter when the ice forms ridges across the lake’s surface. The scene is out of this world.

Lake Suwa was the inspiration for the lake in the widely-loved 2016 anime Your Name (Kimi no Nawa). If you’re lucky enough to witness this natural wonder up close you’ll be whisked away into a fantasy wonderland. We had a chance to stop by and pay it a visit a few years back after visiting the famous Matsumoto Castle which is located nearby.

The real Lake Suwa (above).
The rendition of the lake in Your Name (Kimi no Na Wa).

How The Gods’ Crossing forms

The lake has a natural hot spring under its surface which causes this anomaly to occur. During winter when the top of the lake freezes, the hot springs below are still warm and circulating. The warm water interacting with the cold ice forms pressure ridges or ice patterns on the lake surface. Some of the ridges reach heights of more than 30cm and look like sharp blades jutting out of the ice.

Changes in temperature from daytime to night cause the ice to crack and thus the holy road appears.

Locals believe that a god descends once a year to cross the lake via this mysterious road known as omiwatari (御神渡り) in Japanese. This journey sees the god descending across the Suwa Taisha (Suwa Grand Shrine) complex which has shrine buildings situated at opposite ends of the lake. At 1,200 years old, the complex is one of the oldest groups of Shinto shrines in Japan.

An ancient myth tells the story of a god from the main shrine (kamisha) traveling across the ice road to meet a goddess enshrined at the lower shrine (shimosha). It’s quite a heartwarming love story for such a cold place if you really think about it!

Probably the only time a crack in the ice a good sign

While it’s probably the last thing you’d want to see when visiting a frozen lake, a crack in the ice is considered a good omen which locals wait for anxiously every year. Unfortunately, the frequency with which the ice patterns appear has steadily dropped since the 1990s due to rising temperatures. This is truly a rare sight as the Gods’ Crossing doesn’t always form and there’s no real way to predict whether it will show up this year or not.

In 2018, the ice pathway appeared for the first time since 2013. Considering the warm temperatures this year it’s a bit of a toss-up. Blame it on global warming.

This is truly a rare sight as the Gods’ Crossing doesn’t always form and there’s no real way to predict whether it will show up this year or not.

When it does appear though, it’s like something of holy scripture. It’s even studied and analyzed by the locals to predict social conditions and annual crop harvests. They’ve been doing this since the 14th Century. Does that mean this is perhaps one of the world’s oldest weather records?

Thermal activity under the lake also means there are therapeutic onsen (hot springs) nearby. Loads of them can be found along the shores of the lake in the Kami Suwa area. At the very least, if the elusive phenomenon doesn’t occur, you can enjoy a nice hot spring experience on the lake that inspired Your Name for cool points on Instagram.

Lake Suwa itself is quite picturesque, even if the Gods’ Crossing doesn’t make an appearance this year. If you are looking to get out and explore a new and interesting part of the country, then put Lake Suwa near the top of your list of places to visit.

Suwa Taisha, dedicated to a prime example of an ‘earthly kami’
(this and following photos by John Dougill)
Harumiya, cutest and most compact of the four Suwa Taisha shrines
Suwa is known for its close ties to sumo and it honours former champions
The shrine is a ‘power spot’, noted for its special energy which attracts different kinds of devotees
Direct honouring of nature (picture courtesy of Kyodo/Japan Times)

Shugendo in Kumano

Hayatama Taisha, one of the three great Kumano Shrines (photos by John Dougill)

Hayatama Shrine in Shingu city stands at the mouth of the Kumano River, where it flows into the Pacific Ocean. There is a wooden plaque near the entrance of the Haiden (Worship Hall), on which, according to Paul Swanson, is written the following:

The first great spiritual place of worship in Japan, The foundation of the Three Kumano Gongen (Shingu, Nachi, Hongu).

Gongen is a deeply syncretic term, indicating Japanese manifestations of the Buddhas. In other words, kami acting as local avatars for their universal counterparts. “It is a word coined by the followers of esoteric Buddhism to explain the unity of the Buddhas and the kami,’ writes Paul Swanson in his online paper, The Kumano Area and the Roots of Shugendo: A Study in Eclectic Japanese Religion‘.

Entering into the mountains

For those drawn to nature worship, nothing could be more appealing than Shugendo and their tradition of ‘entering the mountains’. The thinking is simple. Mountains are sacred space. Buddhas and kami manifest there. Humans can tap into their power by ‘lying in the mountains’, worshipping and doing ascetic exercises.

Since ancient times mountains have been seen as sacred, not only because they are the closest places on earth to the Upper World but also because the deceased were buried on their lower slopes. They were thus the site of both animist and ancestral spirits. Later esoteric Buddhism came to site their temples on mountains too.

Yamabushi blowing their own conch-shells

According to tradition, Shugendo was founded by En no Gyoja in the seventh century, and later split into two groups, one attached to Tendai Buddhism and one to Shingon. The austerities they carried out ranged from climbing steep cliffs, praying in caves, and cold water austerities. Through entering the mountains one comes close to death, and on returning one is reborn.

Fasting, sleeplessness and hard hiking courses inevitably induce a change in consciousness. As a result the return from the mountains brings a sense of reinvigoration and enhanced power, enabling practitioners to carry out healing and other socially beneficial activities.

For a detailed account of a Shugendo mountain experience by a group based at Kyoto’s Shogo-in, see the first chapter of Paul Swanson’s paper cited above. It’s very similar to an account by Gary Snyder of his experience in the 1950s when he was dangled over the side of a cliff as part of a practice to create in the practitioner a change for the better.

Shugendo practitioner applying some spiritual healing

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