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Kego Shrine (Fukuoka)

May 24, 2012 / John D. / 0 Comments

Kego Shrine in downtown Fukuoka: a shrine to consumerism?

Kego Shrine in the midst of Tenjin, Fukuoka, is a sorry-looking place, swamped as it is by concrete, consumerism and car parks. It’s like a vision of the degradation of spirituality in modern life. A religion whose roots lie in the celebration of awe and wonder has been dessicated by the sterility of contemporary commercialism.

The shrine was originally on another site and moved here in 1608. Named after a defense facility at Dazaifu named Keigo-sho, it stood not far from the Yamato state’s Korokan (guesthouse for diplomats). It was connected with such historical events as the revolt of Fujiwara Sumitomo, and generations of local lords worshipped here as a tutelary shrine of Fukuoka castle (it was the Ubugami of the daimyo Kuroda Tadayuki). I wonder what he’d think of it now!

Noticeboard of a Conservation Society to protect greenery

Once no doubt the shrine was surrounded by a large grove of trees. Now – irony of ironies – a noticeboard announces the intentions of a Greenery Conservation Society. It stands against the backdrop of a desolate treeless space. Cars, not kami, take priority here.

There seemed something decidedly out of balance about the atmosphere of the shrine, and the tone was set by the shishi guardians at the shrine entrance, both of which are strikingly male. This flies in the face of yin-yang equilibrium, and when I mentioned it to a shrine priest, he replied sheepishly that the statues had been made about forty years ago and that Kego wasn’t the only shrine to have a male-male pairing. However, what it signified or why it was ordered he was unable to say.

Feminist ideology has long held that patriarchal values lie at the root of humankind’s war on nature, so perhaps there’s a link here (though it’s worth noting that the female propensity for shopping plays a huge part in the drive towards consumerism). But apart from the loss of a sense of wonder in modern life, Kego has another important lesson to teach, I think. Contrary to what many like to believe, Shinto is not simply a nature religion – it’s primarily an ancestral religion. The kami worshipped here, as at the vast majority of shrines in Japan, are the spirits of the ruling élite of the past. In this sense Shinto has sometimes been called a religion of Japaneseness – and Kego presents a vivid picture of just what that means in 2012.

A decidedly male guardian figure, whose partner is also male

A once proud nature religion reduced to a handful of trees

Yayoi life (Yoshinogari)

May 20, 2012 / John D. / 1 Comment

When the Yoshinogari area in northern Kyushu was excavated in 1986, the extent of the ruins led to great excitement that it might be the site of an ancient Yamatai kingdom mentioned in Chinese chronicles. People flooded to visit, and in 1992 it was decided to turn it into a historical park celebrating the Yayoi era (300 BC – 300 AD).

Tori–i (Bird perch) entrance gate

Reconstructed houses have been erected on the very sites of the ruins (which lie beneath them, buried under a protective covering). There’s also an excavated mound on display with genuine burial jar fragments. The result is a surprisingly informative display of Yayoi life, done in consultation with leading experts in the field of archaeology and ancient architecture. As such it enables one to see the latest thinking among Japanese specialists about their past.

There are five main areas: one where the rulers lived; one for politico-religious ceremonies; one a burial site for the ruling elite; one where ceremonial objects were made; and one a market centre with storehouses. The population of this small kingdom is estimated at 5,400.

The overall effect is to show how the move from a nomadic lifestyle to rice-growing communities in Yayoi times led to vested interests and the need for defense, weapons and watchtowers.

Religious life
It was in Yayoi times that proto-Shinto developed. Like other aspects of Yayoi culture, religious belief derived from the Chinese mainland, as transmitted through Korea. The park’s literature constantly refers to the Chinese situation in the assumptions made about Yoshinogari culture and lifestyle.

Silk-weaving was invested with spiritual allure

One area – Nakanomura – is believed to have been where priests made ritual objects. It’s also believed that they brewed alcohol and raised silkworms in the same compound. In the Kojiki Amaterasu spends her time weaving, and the significance of silkworms and religious ritual is something that Michael Como has explored in Weaving and Binding – Immigrant Gods and Female Immortals in Ancient Japan.

In another of the park’s areas – Kitanaikaku – it is supposed that prayers to ancestors were held. A high priest communed with ancestral spirits and pronounced on matters of state, including setting the dates for important events such as festivals and harvesting. Perhaps it was in just such a village that the famed shaman-queen Himiko lived.

On the roof of religious buildings, as well as on the entrances to the compounds, are wooden bird statues. ‘In the Yayoi period, a bird seems to have been a symbol or God’s messenger that brought spirits of crops and exorcised the evil spirit,’ says the park’s literature.

For me personally the most striking object in the whole complex was the shaman’s pillar standing before the burial mound. Here the ancestral spirits – the kami – would have been drawn down for the embryonic nation’s most important rites. The simple pillar reaching up to the clouds is a forerunner of the shinbashira of Ise and the onbashira pillars of Suwa. The legacy of Japan’s shamanic past is thus built into the very fabric of today’s architecture. Even the way of counting kami is with the word for pillar!

Shamanic pillar before the royal burial mound

The small kingdoms of Yayoi times needed strong defenses to protect themselves from their rivals

Yayoi weapons: bows, halberbs, shields and armour too

Meeting of the Yoshinogari king with his advisors and village headmen

A Yayoi shrine, with drum building behind for announcing rituals

House of the head priest, whose communing with ancestral spirits enabled him or her to pronounce on matters of state

Roof detail

Religious ceremony carried out by a miko shamaness

How a Yayoi altar may have looked

Making a magatama

May 19, 2012 / John D. / 2 Comments

The Yoshinogari magatama expert gives instructions

The Yoshinogari theme park in northern Kyushu offers the opportunity to visitors to make a magatama stone bead. (The beads were symbols of spiritual authority in Yayoi times.) It turned out to be much easier than expected. Like much else in life, you just need good tools and preparation. Then you rub and rub and rub. It sure develops the arm muscles.

The basic process involves rubbing a soft stone against a harder one. The first step is to select the type of stone, ranging from white soap stone to the more attractive darker type which I chose to work on. You then draw a magatama shape on the stone and start rubbing it against a harder stone block in order to wear away the areas outside the drawing.

Stages of magatama making

After wearing away the corners, you’re left with the difficult bit around the ‘belly’ of the magatama. I couldn’t imagine how to approach this, but it turned out to be simplicity itself. You just use the edge of the square block to rub against.

Using the corner to get a rounded effect

After about forty minutes the magatama began to take shape. There then follows polishing down the edges, which can go on for as long as you want if you’re a perfectionist.

The final stage involves more rubbing – this time in water with a wet carbon paper to take off the small scratch marks caused by the previous rubbing. it’s worth persisting with this final stage in order to get a fine finish. Then you’re all ready to put a string through your magatama and wear it for good luck.

Freshly made magatama (mine on the right). The Yayoi people had more time, patience and expertise!

I took the opportunity to ask the Yoshinogari magatama makers about their interpretation of the significance. There are several theories, ranging from half a yin-yang symbol to the human embryo and basic spiral building block of the universe. The Yoshinogari consensus is rather different – they say it represents the tusk of a wild boar, a symbol of the animal’s power.

The answer might well have surprised me if I had not on the previous day visited Atago Shrine in Fukuoka. The shrine’s symbol looks like a pair of yin-yang elements, but when I asked a priest about it he told me they represented a wild boar’s tusks. So there we have it. Who ever knew that the plucky wild boar played such a part in Shinto?

Mark of Atago Shrine in Fukuoka

Wild boar at Goo Jinja in Kyoto. Notice the fangs....

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An informative page on magatama can be found on Mark Schumacher’s onmark website here. Wikipedia also has a good and even lengthier page, with seven different theories as to its significance.

Aoi Festival (Kyoto)

May 16, 2012 / John D. / 1 Comment

Setting off from Gosho

Aoi Festival took place today in glorious sunshine. The festival is said to have originated in the sixth century when Emperor Kinmei ordered it in order to placate the kami that were causing a series of disasters. It’s supposed to take place on May 15, but yesterday was pouring with rain and all those gorgeous costumes would have been ruined. I thought the postponement would reduce the numbers watching, but the route from the Former Imperial Palace (Gosho) to Shimogamo Jinja and then on to Kamigamo Jinja was packed most of the way.

This year I caught the beginning of the parade at 10.30 in Gosho and the end of the parade at Kamigamo from 3.30. Both are in open and verdant settings, fitting for an ancient festival. The whole event centres around the procession of the imperial messenger to present offerings to the kami at Shimogamo and Kamigamo. There are rituals involved, but as far as the public’s concerned it’s all about the parade. There are over 500 people, some 40 horses and 2 oxen involved, and everyone wears aoi/katsura leaves, thought in the past to be a preventative against disease. (Aoi is a type of hollyhock.)

it’s a long colourful affair that takes an hour in all to pass by, with frequent stoppages. The procession is divided into five main sections. Guardsmen at the front and rear, officials in charge of the offerings, horsemen, and women and children, including the Saio (imperial princess-priestess). It’s the women and children that get all the cameras snapping.

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For more about the significance of the Aoi Festival, see the pre-events Mikage Festival and Miare sai. To read further details about the festival itself, try the Wikipedia pages or this page of small pictures with accompanying explanations.

All dressed up and somewhere to go...

A dapper looking horserider

Ox-cart proceeding without any horse power

A very dignified imperial messenger heading the procession

Playing the part of the former princess-princess Saio

Armed guards, past and present, at the starting point in Kyoto's Former Imperial Palace

Arriving at Kamigamo Shrine, end point for the festival, some five hours later

Secret rite (Miare sai)

May 16, 2012 / John D. / 0 Comments

The thunder kami
It takes place on May 12. It’s held in secret. And it’s one of Japan’s oldest continuous rites. It’s the little known, and mysterious, Miare sai held by Kamigamo Shrine in Kyoto.

Priests at Kamigamo Jinja engaged in another ancient shamanistic rite: the Crow Festival every September

The rite is carried out in the dark by the priests of Kamigamo Jinja at the south-western base of their sacred mountain, Koyama. it’s where their kami, the thunder-god Kamo no Wake-ikazuchi, descended in prehistoric times. One theory holds that he descended in the form of lightning, which would make sense for a thunder deity!

The kami was born in remarkable manner to a shamaness known as Tamayori no hime (Spirit Summoning Princess). While sitting by the river one day, she came across a red arrow floating downstream and took it home. Miraculously, she became pregnant.

The young boy she gave birth to turned into a prodigy, and when he was just three years old, his grandfather asked him at a gathering to point out his father. ‘I am the son of a Heavenly Deity,’ he replied, wherewith he ascended to the heavens. The Kamo clan, of whom the grandfather was leader, adopted the young boy’s spirit as their kami.

Ritual observance
The form of the rite was dictated by the kami himself, for Wake-ikazuchi appeared to his grandfather in a dream and gave him instruction about how he wished to be worshipped.

‘If you wish to see me, make some heavenly feather robes, light fires, set up spears, decorate running horses and with stout wood from the mountains set up ‘are‘ poles and from them hang down many coloured ornaments, make wigs of Aoi and Katsura and solemnly decorate yourself with them and wait for me to come.’

Feathers play a part in many shaman costumes

A heavenly feather robe, decorations, the drawing down of the spirit into ornamented poles – there’s much of shamanism here. The present-day ceremony retains some of the original flavour by taking place with just a handful of people in the dark. ‘Mukae tamae mukae tamae,’ they chant (Come we beseech you).

During the rite the kami is invited to descend into yorishiro (vessel for the kami), consisting of five sakaki branches festooned with hei (strips of paper). It’s thought there may have once been five priests who each held a branch to receive the spirit. Afterwards the yorishiro are taken to the shrine so that the kami can be installed there.

Getting into the spirit of Aoi Festival
The idea of the ceremony is that the kami will arrive just before Aoi Matsuri, which is held three days later. The name of the rite, Miare, can mean birth, resurrection, or renewal – apt enough for a festival that occurs in spring and celebrates the rebirth of the life-force and the overcoming of disease.

What’s interesting is that both the Miare rite of Kamigamo Shrine and the Mikage Festival of its sister shrine, Shimogamo, take place on May 12th. One’s in the daytime and in public. The other is in the dark, in the woods, and in secret. Yet both events can be seen as important preparations for the Aoi Festival, bringing down their respective kami from a sacred mountain.

When the big day comes, on May 15, the kami will be ready for the entertainment and offerings. There’ll be 500 people in full processional gear, and a messenger from the emperor himself. If the kami is pleased, it bodes well for the rest of the year and for avoiding the dreaded plague that once ravaged the community.

Here then is the message I derive from the rite. From mountains we derive the vitality to sustain us against disease and negativity. In climbing to the top of the hill, we grow closer to heaven and in so doing enhance our spiritual and physical well-being.

The celestial home of Kamo Wake-ikazuchi

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Information is taken from John Nelson’s Enduring Identities and Gunther Nitschke’s From Shinto to Ando.

Shinto scouts

May 13, 2012 / John D. / 0 Comments

Scouts at prayer to the Shimogamo kami

Scouts are something one associates with Christianity. That was certainly Baden-Powell’s intention when he founded the boy scout movement in 1907 in the UK. But on an early morning visit to Shimogamo Jinja I came across a Shinto scout group attached to the shrine, and fell into conversation with their honorary chief leader, Toju Takabayashi, now 83 years old.

Toju Takabayashi, aged 83 and still a scout leader

Takabayashi san told me that the first Shinto scout group had been set up in Tokyo in 1950 and that there were now about 80 groups attached to shrines throughout Japan. They belong to the wider Japanese scout movement, which meets nationally once a year, but they have their own Conference of Shrine-related Scouts who meet once every five years. The last meeting was at Ise.

When I came across the group, they were at morning prayers. This consisted of lining up before the haiden and reciting a prayer, then clapping and bowing in unison. Afterwards they gathered in a circle in the Tadasu no mori woods where they had a talk about what they would do for the day. One of the first things they did was to raise the hinomaru flag.

There are about fifty members in all, Takabayashi san said, much fewer than in the past. They did various activities like singing, dancing, tying knots, and helping with maintenance of the woods. it was important for children to develop their own character, he stressed, not to learn ideas from above. One should listen to the kami in one’s heart, he went on, not the one being marketed by the shrine. Hoping for genze riyaku (worldly benefits) is not good; human to human communication and world peace was what mattered.

It was hardly the orthodox Shinto message that I had expected. Shimogamo after all is a bastion of the emperor system, and in two days’ time will be accepting gifts from an imperial messenger at the Aoi Festival. But how heartening to find someone with an independent mind in such surroundings, open to listening to the voice of nature. It turned my morning walk into a journey of joy.

Scout's honour

Sacred grove in the early morning light. 'Let nature be your teacher,' said Wordsworth.

Mikage Festival pt. 2

May 12, 2012 / John D. / 0 Comments

Arrival of the horse-borne aramitama (rough spirit of the kami)

In the morning the festival procession had left Shimogamo Shrine for Mikage Shrine at Yase, where participants collected the aramitama of the kami (and had lunch). In the afternoon the procession returned to Shimogamo, where the kami was welcomed with offerings and entertainment, before being formally installed in the honden.

The proceedings took place in Tadasu no mori, Shimogamo’s primeval wood that forms an important part of its World Heritage designation. Commentary by a master of ceremonies stressed the festival’s celebration of new growth and the importance of the sakaki and katsura (Judas tree) branches as symbols of the emergent lifeforce. The sacred branch would subsequently become a yorishiro (conductor) for a new aramitama to be installed at Mikage Shrine. Renewal was thus very much the theme of the festival.

White horse, bearing a kami, watches the proceedings with interest

As in the morning, the journey from Mikage Jinja was made by vehicle, and once everyone had arrived, the kami was placed on the back of a white horse. Carefully hidden from view under a protective covering, the kami was then led up the Shimogamo sando (approach way) to a canvas awning into which the horse was led. Rather surreally, the horse’s head protruded from this to survey the proceedings, as if acting as the eyes of the kami.

Under the watchful gaze of the horse, offerings were made, gagaku musicians lined up to play, and there was a performance of azuma asobi (an ancient dance originating in eastern Japan). The idea was to soothe the kami on its move to its new quarters (though to a modern ear the chanting seemed anything but soothing, sounding at times much like out-of-tune karaoke!).

Following the performance, the procession with the horse-borne kami at its heart continued on to the shrine, where it passed through the outer courtyard. As it moved into the inner compound, the gates were swung shut. A few minutes later the white horse emerged, without the kami covering. Meanwhile, on the inside of the gates the priestly cohort conducted rituals to install the aramitama in its new home.