Tag: Zen shrines

Zen and Shinto 6: Shokoku-ji

February 21, 2016 / John D. / 2 Comments

Characteristic Shinto and Buddhist roofs next to each other at Shokoku-ji. In the foreground the shingled Benzaiten shrine, in the background the tiled roof of the Zen temple's belltower.

Characteristic Shinto and Buddhist roofs next to each other at Shokoku-ji. In the foreground a shingled roof on the Sanctuary of a Benzaiten shrine, in the background the tiled roof of the Zen temple’s belltower.

Shokoku-ji was established in 1383 as a shogunate showpiece, but not long after completion burnt down and had to be completely rebuilt. It ranked second among the Five Gozan temples and played a prominent part in furthering Zen culture. It also accrued valuable assets, such as ownership of the Gold and Silver Pavilions. Severely reduced in size in Meiji times, it is now a relatively peaceful area behind Doshisha University and hosts the association offices for the schools of Rinzai and Obaku Zen.

The temple is said to be the wealthiest of Kyoto’s seven large monasteries, which is why it can afford to show less concern with tourist income. Though the grounds are free to visit, the only building usually open to the public is the museum. A notice posted on the main building says: ‘Please respect the temple precincts, garden and environment as a religious space. You will acquire Buddha’s providence from the bottom of our heart.’

Hachiman Shrine, an appropriate kami for a temple founded by the samurai

Hachiman Shrine at Shokoku-ji, an appropriate kami for a temple founded by samurai

The monastery was set up as a personal project by the powerful shogun, Ashikaga Yoshimitsu (founder of the Golden Pavilion), with a location close to his Muromachi palace. To make space for the massive estate, locals were forced out of their homes: ‘Shokoku-ji was built on people’s grief,’ ran a saying of the time. Construction took nine years to complete and involved the felling of Kyoto’s oldest cedar and cypress trees.

The original layout can be seen in the positioning of the lotus pond along a central axis on which stand the Hatto (Lecture Hall) and the Hojo (Abbot’s Quarters). Noticeably missing however are the Sanmon gate and Buddha Hall, both destroyed by fire in 1788 and never replaced. In their stead are red pine trees, giving the precincts a distinctive wooded feel.

Of the thirteen buildings in the main compound three are tutelary shrines honouring Japanese kami; Hachiman, Benten and Inari. Two of the shrines stand either side of an impressive bell-tower, one of which is dedicated, uniquely, to a white fox which impersonated tea-master Sotan, grandson of Sen no Rikyu. Legend has it that to the astonishment of participants the fox served tea at a ceremony held at the temple.

Close to Shokoku-ji is a Nichiren temple which also shows close ties to the kami (see pics below). Not only does a tutelary shrine to Myoken stand close to the entrance, but its temple gate is festooned with shide paper strips. It’s a reminder that kami worship remains an active part of contemporary Buddhism, in sects other than Zen – Tendai and Shingon, for instance, as well as Nichiren. (The Pure Land sects are less kami-friendly.)

I can’t help wondering why the numerous syncretic shrines of Buddhism are completely overlooked in books on Shinto. The obvious answer is that they belong to Buddhism rather than Shinto. Fair enough. But if the religion is defined as ‘kami worship’, as it often is, then surely these kami worshipping shrines deserve greater attention. One aspect that could be drawn out is the universalism of Buddhism versus the particularism of Shinto, and as I continue my probings into the relationship I hope to be talking to some Buddhist priests about their thoughts regarding the kami.

The Sotan Inari-sha, built to honour a white fox

Nichiren temple with adjacent torii and Buddhist gate (and a visible means of transport between the two worlds!)

Nichiren temple gate (Honman-ji) with adjacent torii (and visible means of transport between them!)

Sacred rocks have long been part of the Shinto tradition. These are Buddhist, as indicated by the whorls.

Seasonal awareness is part of the Japanese tradition too, both Shinto and Buddhist. The plum blossom have been out early this year, this fellow found basking in the sun at the Nichiren temple.

Seasonal awareness is part of the Japanese tradition too, both Shinto and Buddhist. The plum blossom have been out early this year, this example found basking in the sun at Shokoku-ji – a reminder that one of Kyoto’s most popular festivals, the large Plum Blossom Festival at Kitano Tenmangu, will be held soon on the 25th.

Zen and Shinto 5: Kodai-ji

February 13, 2016 / John D. / 0 Comments

The Tenmangu shrine at the Zen temple of Kodai-ji

Kodai-ji is one of Kyoto’s top tourist attractions, forever associated with Nene (1546-1624), principal wife of supremo Hideyoshi. It’s known for the beauty of its gardens, the wealth of Important Cultural Assets, its connections with tea, but above all for the magical light-ups in spring (cherry blossom) and autumn (maple leaves) when dazzling images are reflected in shallow ponds.

Following the death of her husband, Nene became a nun and was given the honorary title Kodai-in, from which the temple takes its name. It won the patronage of the Tokugawa shogun, whose side Nene took in the dispute with her late husband’s son. As a result the temple has a lavish touch, with sumptuous grounds and use of gold-embossed ‘Kodai-ji lacquer’. Though Nene belonged to the Soto sect, she willed her temple to Sanko Joeki, the Rinzai abbot of Kennin-ji.

Sacred rock with omikuji fortune strips outside Kodai-ji

On a recent visit I was struck by a number of items in the vicinity. One was a sacred rock with omikuji fortune strips but no explanation. Do Chan temples in China venerate rocks, I couldn’t help wondering?

The rock lies near to a Tenmangu Shrine, standing outside the Zen compound but clearly an extension since it has a tiled Buddhist roof. I guess this is another of those shrines not included in the 80,000 figure claimed by Jinja Honcho. A noticeboard at the shrine says that Temma-Tenjin (posthumous name of Sugawara Michizane) was revered by Nene, and that if you walk around the hall three times your wish will be granted and misfortunes disappear. (Sugawara is linked with Kodai-ji’s parent temple Kennin-ji, because while a priest named Enni Ben’en was studying there, he had a vision of Sugawara no Michizane who told him to go to China and study meditation. When he returned, he founded Tofuku-ji.)

Interestingly for a kami shrine, candles and incense were on offer (one stick of each for ¥100). The furnishings too were Buddhist style though with some typical Shinto elements, such as sakaki and salt-saké containers.

At the Tenmangu Shrine candles and incense sticks are on offer

At the Tenmangu Shrine, unusually for a kami, candles and incense sticks are on offer

As with other Tenjin shrines, the ema tablets show a preoccupation with passing exams, with ‘Dream’ (as in Ambition) the main theme. At some point in modern times Tibetan-style ‘mani wheels’ were added. These contain the Heart Sutra, and the visitor can earn merit by turning each one as they walk around the hall clockwise. I wonder if this is a unique case of a kami shrine encircled by Buddhist prayer wheels?

Round the corner, on the main ‘Nene thoroughfare’, a subtemple called Gesshin-in houses a rather wonderful small shrine named Ko-Inari Daimyojin. The simplest of affairs, it has a small hokora, stone lanterns with wooden cut-outs of foxes, and a rather cute enmusubi fox pairing that I haven’t come across elsewhere (see below).

Tenjin and Inari are two of the most common kami in Shinto, so it was interesting that they should feature so prominently at a Zen temple. There is no resident priest at Kodai-ji, but it belongs to the Kennin-ji School of Rinzai Zen and priests from the monastery visit daily to carry out rituals, including refreshing the offerings etc at the kami shrines. No doubt these practitioners of ‘no-mind’ are aware of the significance of the kagami (mirror) to which they make obeisance. By removing the ‘ga‘ (ego) from the person reflected in the mirror, the ‘kagami’ becomes ‘kami’!

A portrait of the deified Sugawara no Michizane (Tenjin-sama), sketched perhaps with a Zen touch

Ema at the Tenmangu Shrine have a Dream theme

The Tenmangu ox outside the Zen temple of Kodai-ji

The Tenmangu ox outside the Zen temple precincts of Kodai-ji

The side of the Tenjin Shrine has a decidedly Buddhist look, with Kodai-ji emblem on the roof tiles and prayer wheels along the side

Inari enmusubi ema – “love, love”

Stone lantern with fox cut-out – an unusual touch

Zen and Shinto 3: Konchi-in

January 25, 2016 / John D. / 0 Comments

Buddhist gateway that opens onto a torii standing astride a path leading to Tosho-gu, a shrine dedicated to the spirit of Tokugawa Ieyasu

Konchi-in is a subtemple of the Nanzen-ji monastery and one of Kyoto’s gems. It packs a great deal into a compact space – garden and teahouse by master designer, Kobori Enshu; celebrated artwork; a mausoleum for Tokugawa Ieyasu.  The temple’s buildings date back to 1605, when it was relocated and extensively restored by Nanzen-ji’s influential abbot Ishin Suden (1569-1633). Known as ‘the black pope’, he was a close advisor to the first three Tokugawa shoguns and chose Kobori Enshu to lay out the garden in expectation of a shogunal visit which never actually took place.

In terms of Shinto, the subtemple is notable for having two shrines, one animist and one ancestral. The animist shrine is a small affair on a pond island dedicated to Benten-sama. Often associated with water, she rules over the spirit of place and a large torii marks the entrance to her shrine.

The front of the Tosho-gu with its Buddhist roof

On the slope above the garden a grand entrance gate leads directly to the Tosho-gu shrine. This is a branch of the famous Nikko shrine dedicated to the spirit of Tokugawa Ieyasu. It was at the behest of his grandson, Iemitsu, who saw deification of Ieyasu as a means of cementing the ruling dynasty in the national consciousness. In the Edo period there were some 500 branch shrines, but the anti-Tokugawa Meiji government drastically reduced their number to the present 130.

Tosho-gu shrines are usually bright and ornate, but this one looks decidedly run down. Inside is a statue of Ieyasu, and across the front beam are pictures of shoguns. But the most interesting feature is the architecture, for the front building is built like a temple with tiled roof whereas the back of the building is decidedly Shinto in style with a bark roof.

The back of the temple has a decidedly Shinto-style roof

The back of the temple is decidedly Shinto in style by contrast with the Buddhist roof to which it is attached

Gardens are something to which both Shinto and Buddhism have contributed, and in their representations of nature they have an obvious appeal. The celebrated ‘turtle-crane garden’ at Konchi-in is particularly interesting because though it is Buddhist in conception, it honours a Shinto kami. (Turtles were a symbol of longevity and cranes a symbol of good fortune.)

Beautiful in itself, the garden can be read in symbolic terms as an homage to Ieyasu. In the foreground is a sea of raked gravel, behind which are rock-islands set against a verdant backing of vegetation. Between the turtle island (flatter, to the left) and the crane island (taller, to the right) is a long flat ‘altar stone’ facing up towards the Tosho-gu shrine in the top right, once visible but now screened by trees. The grouping of rocks in the middle symbolising the mythic Horai Isles of the Blessed would thus by inference have included the spirit of Ieyasu enshrined above. (The illustration below names the salient features of the garden.)

Konchi-in garden It’s the year of the monkey, which makes it a particularly apt time to visit the subtemple because of the celebrated fusuma-e painting by Hasegawa Tohoku that it houses (see below). It shows a monkey reaching out to grasp a reflection of the moon reflected in the pond below. It’s a telling Buddhist parable about chasing after illusion.

Opposite the subtemple is an enormous patch of land which is being developed by Larry Ellison (of Oracle fame), the fifth-richest man in the world (!). It used to be an estate belonging to an early twentieth-century film magnate and politician, with a garden by the famed designer, Ogawa Jihei, and a special entrance was made for a visit by Emperor Meiji. Now the site is filled with construction cranes and word has it that the Kyoto-loving Ellison is building a second house there, though interestingly in the Zen cemetery which abuts the estate stands a large torii. One wonders what his guests will think of that as they look out of their bedroom windows at night…

The torii in the Zen cemetery of Nanzen-ji, right next to Larry Ellison’s estate. The stone markers with triangular tops are apparently for those who died fighting for the emperor in WW2.

Monkey reaching for the moon by Hasegawa Tohoku. The ‘direct experience of life’ is something common to both Zen and Shinto.

Zen and Shinto 2: Kennin-ji

January 17, 2016 / John D. / 4 Comments

The entrance gateway to the Founder’s Hall (Kaisando) at Kennin-ji, where Myoan Eisai is buried

My second outing into the world of Zen was a visit to Kennin-ji, oldest Zen temple in Kyoto. It’s located in the heart of Gion, the city’s largest geisha district. As a result it is neighbour to the pleasure quarter with its drinking bars and love hotels. Tourists focus their cameras on the geisha, unaware that within feet are temple treasures and gardens of outstanding beauty.

The mix of worldly and otherworldly pursuits is characteristic of Japanese religion, meaning that the temple teahouses with their spartan furnishings stand alongside geisha teahouses where customers are plied with drinks and flirtation. The ‘floating world’ of Buddhism here merges with that of ‘the water trade‘, and, as the wits have it, paradise can be found on both sides of the temple wall.

Myoan Eisai (1141-1215)

Interestingly, the temple’s founder, Myoan Eisai (1141-1215), was the son of a priest at Kibitsu Jinja in Okayama. Brought up in a Shinto household, he was sent away to study Buddhism at the tender age of three and was later ordained into the Tendai sect on Mt Hiei. As the man who introduced Zen to Japan, it’s surely not without significance that Eisai’s upbringing was shaped by the native tradition and Shinto values. (It was an age when Shinto and Buddhism were seen as complementary and fused into one; Eisai’s contemporary, Kamo no Chomei, writer of Hojoki (1212), dropped out of being a priest at Shimogamo Jinja to become a Buddhist hermit.)

After visiting Kamakura and securing patronage of the shogun, Eisai established Kennin-ji as his base. Although he taught and practised Zen, he remained a Tendai priest to the end of his life. Tendai was a very pragmatic sect and its founder Saicho had encouraged worship of the native kami, particularly Sanno, mountain spirit of Hiei where the head temple of Enryaku-ji stood. The sect had close ties with tutelary guardians and protective shrines (chinju). In the case of Enryaku-ji, it was Hiyoshi Jinja at the foot of the mountain. Eisai carried on the tradition, and the guardian shrine of Kennin-ji was the nearby Ebisu Jinja.

Myojouden, the small Shinto shrine in the eastern part of the temple precincts honouring Raku Daimyojin

Eisai preached that Zen aims to diminish the ego and that it promotes purity, sincerity and unselfishness. It was therefore good for the country and for a harmonious, peaceful society. This is remarkably close to Shinto teaching when you think about it. Rather than the individual ego, Shinto is community oriented and encourages suppression of self for the greater good. For the sake of harmony, selfish impulses should be nullified.

Eisai lies buried in the Founder’s Hall of Kennin-ji, and close to the hall stands a small Shinto shrine, Myoujouden. Legend has it that when Eisai’s mother went to worship at Kibitsu, she had a vision of a bright star and subsequently became pregnant (sound vaguely familiar?). The child turned out to be Eisai, marking him out as special. The kami associated with her vision was Raku Daimyojin, which in syncretic terms equated to the boddhisattva Kokozo Bosatsu, a guardian of learning and knowledge. Consequently the small shrine tends to be popular at exam time with students.

Shrine offerings were well maintained and kept free of birds

Shrine building, housing the spirit of Raku Daimyojin

Once a year there’s a ritual carried out here conducted by one of the Zen monks. Such shrines and activities are not included in the official figures as ‘Shinto’. In other words, there are literally many thousands of temple shrines throughout Japan that are overlooked when people give numbers for ‘shrines’. My feeling is that such syncretic shrines should definitely be included and that the official statistics should be disputed. The true religion of Japan is not neatly divided into Shinto and Buddhism, as people pretend.

Wild boar at the Marishiten Hall with lots of little boar ‘omikuji’

The small Shinto shrine lies on the eastern side of the Zen temple’s grounds. Over in the south-west is a much bigger and thriving complex within the Zenkyo-an subtemple. This is the Marishitendo (Marishiten Hall), dedicated to an imported Indian goddess (originally Marici). Like Japan’s kami, Marishi Sonten was a guardian deity of Hindu/Buddhism who was adopted by practitioners in China. A priest who had made a small statue of her in clay brought it with him as protection in 1327 when he travelled to Kennin-ji as a teacher.

According to the Zen priest I talked to, Marishiten is Queen of Heaven, a particularly powerful deity with a radiance that dazzles those who look upon her like the sun. Consequently she was popular with warriors, who sometimes carried a statue of her in their helmet in order to dazzle the enemy. According to the priest, so powerful was the goddess that she overcame Kennin-ji’s previous spirit of place and took over its role as guardian of Kennin-ji.

Marishiten is known for bringing luck to devotees, and geisha come to make prayers to her. The subtemple is covered in images of wild boar, which is her messenger, and she is depicted as riding on a set of seven golden boars (in India the animals are known for their wiliness as well as their bravery). Japan has three main Marishiten temples – a Nichiren temple in Tokyo and a Shingon temple in Kanazawa in addition to Kennin-ji.

As I talked to the Zen priest in his shop with Marishi-related goods, there was a steady trickle of visitors and people praying at the shrine. Zen has an austere, atheistic image in the West. Here at the shrine of Marishi Sonten in the corner of Kennin-ji, the atmosphere was altogether different. I had a strong feeling that such deities offered a personal means of connection for the worshippers that ‘just sitting’ and looking inwards may not.

The temple is famous for its paintings by Tawaraya Sotatsu of Raijin (thunder deity) and Fujin (wind deity) – personifications of unseen forces i.e. kami.

Raijin, the thunder god, is surrounded by drums on which he bangs. Fujin (wind god) has a billowing scarf full of air as he speeds along below his companion.

The temple is famous for paintings by Tawaraya Sotatsu of Raijin (thunder deity) and Fujin (wind deity) – personifications of unseen forces.

Another of the temple's most prized items is the ceiling painting of twin dragons on the ceiling of the Lecture Hall (Hatto). Most temples have one dragon, but here there are two in the A-Un (Aum) pose of temple and shrine guardians. Shinto too adopted the Chinese dragon as a guardian figure, not only in the form of Ryujin but as spouts for shrine water-basins. throughout

Another of the temple’s most prized items is an early twenty-first century painting of twin dragons on the ceiling of the Lecture Hall (Hatto). Most temples have one dragon, but here there are two in the A-Un pose of temple and shrine guardians (one with mouth open, one with mouth shut to symbolise Aum – Om). Shinto too adopted the Chinese dragon as a guardian figure, not only in the form of the deity Ryujin but as a popular motif for spouts at shrine water-basins.

Omikuji fortune slips, surely borrowed from the native tradition, here in the form of monkeys or tigers (Bishamonten’s familiar)

As at Shinto shrines, good luck charms or protective amulets are also sold at the temple (these are for victory). Did the practice come with Buddhism, or was it already part of the native shamanic tradition?

Zen and Shinto 1: Tofuku-ji

January 10, 2016 / John D. / 7 Comments

The mighty sanmon gate at Tofuku-ji, largest and oldest Zen gate in Japan

The mighty sanmon gate at Tofuku-ji, largest and oldest Zen gate in the whole of Japan

Look at the picture above. It shows the classic arrangement of structures in a Zen monastery, with lotus pond, ceremonial gate and Teaching Hall (Hatto) perfectly aligned on a central axis which runs from south to north. Through the middle of the three openings in the gate is framed the main altar area, inside which a statue of Shaka Nyorai (the historical Buddha) is flanked by two attendants and fronted by four guardians.

It’s all very imposing, very symmetrical and very Chinese. The floors are stone and you keep your shoes on. The deities are represented in physical form. The ideology is conceptual and predicated on an afterlife. It’s all very, very alien to Shinto. And yet, surprise, surprise, to the right of this ceremonial gate is a Shinto shrine, guardian of the spirit of place. In fact the shrine predates the temple, which incorporated it into its design and for some eight hundred years has preserved and cherished it. Does Zen cultivate belief in kami?

In his book about Zen and Japanese Culture, D.T. Suzuki claimed that Zen lay at its core and ascribed to it many well-known aspects such as archery and the tea ceremony. Yet it seems to me that if Zen shaped Japanese culture to some extent, it’s also the case that Shinto shaped Zen to a certain extent. The imported religion derived from Chinese Chan Buddhism, but after its arrival in Japan it took on practices and forms not found in the country of origin.

For the next few months I’ll be investigating the development of Zen in Kyoto, and while doing so I’ll be looking out for the influence of Shinto and the role it’s played in the religion. One interesting item to note is that the Shinto shrines housed in Zen temples usually date from two distinct periods. One, such as here at Tofuku-ji, is from a time before Zen was introduced to Japan in the late twelfth century.

Other shrines were added after the Meiji Restoration (1868), when Shinto was made the state religion and Buddhism fell into disfavour (over 20,000 temples were destroyed). Many temples erected shrines at this time to appease the authorities who considered Buddhism a threat to the emperor-centred regime. (The religion had been a mainstay of the Tokugawa shogunate, for every citizen was required by law to register with their local temple – even Shinto priests!)

As well as temizuya (water basins for purification), Zen temples sell ‘omamori’ protection amulets. Like the traditional Shinto amulets, these are for protection and happiness. There’s a single bead too, part of a rosary which is put together by visiting different temples.

A Zen altar in a subtemple at Tofuku-ji in Kyoto. What has that got to do with Shinto? Well, the New Year offering seen in the picture is a ‘kagami mochi’ usually associated with Shinto and placed on the kamidana. No one is quite sure of the origin, but one theory has to do with honouring the rice spirit. The mirror of course is sacred to Amaterasu as a symbol of her spirit, but the mirror too is commonly found in Buddhist temples as a reminder to keep the soul spotless and free of dust.

The Gosha Jokyuju (aka Gosha Myojinsha) shrine was erected by a powerful member of the Fujiwara family, Tadehira, in 925. It incorporates five tutelary shrines of Tofukuji (Iwashimizu Hachiman, Inari, Kamo, Kasuga and Hiyoshi). Its festival, known as Shoshasai, was once as brilliant as the Gion Festival but is defunct. Now an annual Fire Burning Festival called Hitakisai is held in Nov.

Steps in the south-eastern part of the temple lead up to Gosha Myojinsha.

An avenue of torii at the top of the hill leads to an open-doored shrine

The shrine houses a curiously coloured rock, presumably the ‘goshintai’ (sacred body) of the rough bear spirit, Arakuma. It was donated by the Mizuguchi Organisation of Fukuoka Prefecture

A pair of dosoujin. These fertility symbols would once have acted as territorial markers, but now they rest beneath a tree, evidently cared for still by the Zen monks.

The dry landscape garden by Shigemori Mirei was laid out in 1939 and is acclaimed for combining modern style with traditional sensibility. The rocks here represent the Isles of the Immortals from Chinese mythology, but the simplicity, purity and spiritually charged rocks may well owe something to the native tradition.