Life In Japan: Shrines and Temples

Living in a completely foreign culture is sometimes the best way to get insights into your own culture, to be able to see things that are so obvious they're hiding in plain sight, thus require your looking at them from "the outside" to make them apparent.

On a lighter note, let me append to that how utterly amazed I am by my talent for coming up with genuinely stupid questions about Japan, its customs, its culture, its people.

The particular one I'm about to reveal isn't really that bad . . . maybe only 4 or 5 on the cluelessness scale.  Here it is . . .

A few years back I asked my wife Masumi -- who displays monumental patience with me, probably because she knows I'm truly curious about Japan, not inclined to make nugatory small talk -- about the architectural manifestations of "spiritual life" here.  The question:  "Why are there so many shrines and temples here in Japan, darling?"  (Okay . . . I didn't say 'darling' or 'sweetheart' or 'lamb chop' or 'tofu burger' to her.  It's just not my style.)

I don't recall her exact words.  But it went something like: "Have you ever looked around in America? There are churches everywhere you go."

My God!  She's right!

From small and modest . . .



To majestic and sometimes garish . . .



There are churches everywhere!

To make things truly convoluted, while all these churches essentially promote Christian beliefs, there are so many denominations of Christianity, it's impossible to keep track of them all.  Lutheran, Baptist, Catholic, Episcopalian, Church of Christ, 7th Day Adventist, Mormon, Presbyterian, Methodist, Christian Science, on and on.

Then to make things even more disorienting to anyone hailing from the East, in addition to the Christian churches, there are Jewish temples -- also with an assortment of subtle shadings, e.g. Orthodox, Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, Humanistic, Hasidic, Haredi, Chabad -- and then in recent times mosques which serve as the spiritual centers for the flocks who adhere to Islam.

What a menagerie!

It makes Japan look like it's just at the early stages of ramping up its institutionalization of theology, though in point of fact, the two dominant religions here -- Buddhism and Shinto -- actually go back respectively about fifteen and thirty centuries.  Maybe Japan can't hold a candle -- or stick of incense -- in sheer numbers to America, or a country like Thailand, which has over 40,000 Buddhist temples alone, but I can speak from experience: There are still plenty of holy sites, temples and shrines here.  Even some Christian churches.

Anyone who's traveled the globe will tell you that this is the case just about everywhere there are people living in some organized fashion. 

The obvious conclusion is that humans like to build places of worship, and to varying degrees visit these places of worship to do whatever it is they do in places of worship.

Yes, there's worship.  But while some people are kowtowing to some statue, idol, entity, ghost, relic, concept, abstraction, surrogate or whatever, others are doing something else. Wishing.  Meditating.  Fantasizing.  Maybe scoping out what others are doing or wearing. What car they drove, what camel they rode in on, who they're with.  These days peaking at their smart phones.  Checking their email.  Their text messages.  Tweeting or looking at their Facebook news feed.  Discreetly taking selfies.

Though it's been quite a while since I attended Catholic services, when I was a boy I had to go to Mass six days a week, thus had more than ample time to observe the devout in their Sunday best or Saturday khakis.  And frankly, even back then I don't remember much real worshipping going on.  Yes, a small faction followed along in their prayer books, mouthing the incantations of the priest.  But the vast majority were marking time, minds elsewhere, checking their watches.  God didn't seem to mind, or notice.  No bolts of lightning ripped thought the ceiling and struck down the inattentive.  God is infinitely patient, I'm told by my Bible-toting friends.  (Tell that to the victims of Sodom and Gomorrah!)

I occasionally attend services here.  Usually at our local shrine which I can walk to in about five minutes.  A celebration typically associated with a holiday.  It's mostly a social thing.

People do pray.  We each make appeals to invisible higher powers, for the things most of us on the planet desire:  Happiness, health, wealth, good fortune, love, maybe marriage, harmonious relationships.  There's that universality again: concerns and values we all seem to share as human beings, regardless of where we have settled down to make a life.  Concerns and values expressed in places which we designate for whatever you want to call that "quiet time" we all seem to embrace for addressing something inside us that is outside of us ... greater than us ... or maybe representing the us we wish we could be.  Whether we worship this other or just like to sidle up to it now and then, it's convenient to have some special designated place -- a temple, a mount, a church, mosque, cathedral -- to set the mood and provide the proper environment.

Here are just a few shrines and temples within easy bike-riding distance of my house.

Yes, houses of worship are everywhere here in Japan too, but at a much more modest level  of 'everywhere' than in the U.S., and most certainly not in the over-abundance I now can see is a defining characteristic of my homeland.

It makes me wonder . . .

What exactly are they trying to prove over there?  Are they maybe trying a little too hard?  To be blunt, it appears all that praying and worshipping isn't really working very well.

Why would I think that?

Americans like to say:  "God is on our side."

Really?  If God truly is, then He must have a very strange sense of humor.

Or a serious mean streak.




[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]



Life In Japan: Shrines and Temples

Life In Japan: Shinto Monk Home Blessing

All of us at one time or another have had strangers come to the door.  Maybe it's Jehovah Witness or Mormon recruiters; someone looking for a prior resident; a person whose car has broken down; a magazine salesman; one of those people who go around stuffing fliers in mailboxes, advertising a new gym, a sale on snow tires, a new restaurant opening down the street, a holiday sale; a person with Alzheimer's disease who wandered out of the back door of their house down the street.

But how many of you folks can say they've had Shinto monks come by to bless your home, your life, and all of those in your immediate family?



Of course, they're seeking alms.  But that's really standard operating procedure here in Asia.  When I was in Myanmar, shortly after sunrise, young monks would fan out through the neighborhood where I was staying and ask for a daily contribution for their sustenance and the continuation of their spiritual work.  The community values their presence and what they contribute to the social equilibrium, and shows its appreciation with pocket change and small bills.  Is this so different than passing the hat, collection basket, handheld wireless ATM at a church in the U.S.?  I think not.

Besides, the Shinto monks who go door-to-door here put on a nice little show!  See for yourself . . .

It must be working.  No one around us that I'm aware of has gotten the plague, we've had no invasions of locusts, blood seems confined to the arterial systems of the hosts, we never get thunderstorms of hail and fire.  We have our share of frogs but quite honestly they're cute little critters.  Noisy but cute.

I'd say Japan is better off than most ancient civilizations.  Meaning, if it ain't broke don't fix it.  I'm certainly looking forward to another visit from the Shinto good fortune team when they run out of money.  Until then I think I'll just levitate . . .





[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]



Life In Japan: Shinto Monk Home Blessing

Life In Japan: Japanese Maples

熊野新宮神社, Kumanoshingu Shrine, is not too far from our house.  It's famous around here for its spectacular Japanese Maple trees, which in November turn fire red, yellow, orange, brown, and every shade in between.

We make a point of going there every year, as do many other people.

Temples and shrines are everywhere here.  They come in all shapes and sizes, from huge sprawling complexes which take up several hectares, to single buildings sitting on a tiny patch of dedicated land.  There are the obvious ones which are located on main streets but I personally love the ones that are tucked off in a copse of trees, that are at the end of a trail up a mountain, or just sitting somewhere in isolation.

Temples are Buddhist.  Shrines are Shinto.

[ This originated at the author's personal webpage . . . https://jdrachel.com ]




Life In Japan: Japanese Maples

Life In Japan: Persimmons

I confess.  I never saw, much less tasted, a persimmon until I came to Japan.  I must have heard the term before.  Maybe I read it in Walden Pond or some Emily Dickinson poem.  Persimmon trees definitely didn't grow where I lived in Michigan during my formative years.  Actually nothing much grew at all in Detroit other than racial tensions and poverty.

You have to be here the right time to see persimmons.  Meaning, my first time in Japan, consisting of a month in July 2007, I certainly didn't spot any.  The fruits come out in all of their orange majesty late October.  So it must have been 2008, when I was here for the entire year.

I find it very difficult to describe the flavor of a persimmon.  It's completely unique.  Of course, as a fruit it tastes like a fruit, as opposed to pork ribs or licorice.  But even as a fruit, it's different, delicious in its own special way, with a waxy skin and a crunchiness to the meat more like an apple than a banana.  Until they are very ripe, at that point turning to slime, they aren't very sweet, which is probably why Japanese people like them so much.

What I truly love about persimmons is the way they decorate the landscape.  Every tree becomes sort of a Christmas tree but with only orange bulbs, and obviously no flashing lights, tinsel, or star on top.

Hmm . . . usually I talk politics, philosophy, metaphysics.  And here I'm carrying on about a fruit.  Does that make me sound like a fruitcake? 

I like it here in Japan.  I pay attention to different things.  Most of the people around me are farmers.  They know things I didn't even know I didn't know.  All this is still quite new to me.  How many people at my age can say honestly that life is still full of surprises and wonder?

Three times a day, I hear the ringing of temple bells at a local Shinto shrine.  How do you set your watch?  I don't even own one.  When I hear about some horrible incident going on in this chaotic, increasingly hostile world, I can honestly say:  That'll never happen on my watch.  The worst thing that could happen to me at this point is, late in October, I might get hit on the head by a falling persimmon, as I ride my bicycle to town to buy groceries.


[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . https://jdrachel.com ]



Life In Japan: Persimmons

Benten Shrine Ceremony

I mentioned in I Love Japan Redux that my local village has quite a number of events and various excuses to get us all together in one place doing something, working or playing, sometimes both.

 

This past weekend was our annual Benten Shrine ceremony.  In addition to every village having a community center, most also have a dedicated shrine.  Ours honors Benten, the goddess of the arts, dance, music.  That works for Masumi and I, in that she's an accomplished pianist and opera singer, and I write pulp fiction.

Two weeks ago we cleaned up the area in preparation for today's informal get-together -- cleared a lot of undergrowth, removed weeds from the hedge rows, generally tidied up.
Then on Saturday, at 11 am sharp -- Japanese are never late! -- we assembled in the cluster of trees at the top of the hill where the shrine sits.  

 

It's nothing very spectacular, a modest but adequate shrine -- we've gotten no complaints from Benten or any of the other Shinto deities.

 

A monk had traveled all the way from either Tokyo or Osaka to say prayers and conduct a short service.  His sect is allied with water. 

I guess because the Benten shrine is next to the water, and historically our section of town is sometimes threatened by flooding, his special blessings have direct relevance. 

As he chanted incantations, waved special tree branches, and a prayer paddle, the rest of us stood, watched, listened, bowed several times. I have no idea what's going on at these things.  I just go with the flow.  It's all quite pleasant, solemn but not tense.  Fortunately, I got no flashbacks to my Catholic experience growing up.  Otherwise, a strait jacket would have been required.


 

Each family contributes snacks to the ceremony.  The offerings sit on special wood stands every household owns, called a さんぼう -- pronounced sanbou -- and these stands are placed around the Buddha figure at the head of the shrine.  Since the snacks are left in their bags, though さんぼう are small, each one holds a decent amount of cookies, candy, pastries, even cups of instant noodles and soups. 

After the brief ceremony, we experienced the high point -- especially for the kids -- of the whole event.  Once the ceremony conducted by the monk was complete, the さんぼう were removed from the altar and all of the contributions of edible treats were piled on a table.  The kids lined up in front, adults behind them.  Most had a plastic bag in hand and ready. 

The treats were then thrown wildly to the attendees and everyone scrambled to catch and grab what they can.  It's sort of a Shinto Halloween without costumes.

Once all the treats had been given away, the adults were treated to shots of sake and strips of dried squid.  



I know I know.  You Westerners are thinking 'Dried squid? Yuk!'  All I can say is it took me a while.  At first some of the snacking here seems downright weird -- as if jaw breakers, licorice, beef jerky, Pop Rocks and other crazy stuff we 外人 (gaijin) eat aren't weird, right? -- but I've developed a solid taste for most everything Japanese, after coming and going for ten years.  The truth is that dried squid is actually rather delicious!  It's like salty rope.  Salty rope?  Doesn't that put your salivary glands in overdrive just thinking about it?

The whole celebration took about an hour.  Lots of smiles, good will, warm feelings.



I think it got Benten's seal of approval.

Do I hear music?

[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . http://jdrachel.com ]



Benten Shrine Ceremony

I Love Japan Redux

 

What were you doing on Sunday morning?

I can tell you what I was doing.  I was enjoying what I consider to be one of the most charming aspects of living where I do in Japan.

Sasayama is a tiny, traditional, rural city that sprawls over a large area, having absorbed five other towns into it many years ago.  There are about 50,000 people living within the city limits.
But Sasayama is split into a number of small villages.  Ours is called Noma.  Each village has its own shrine -- ours honors Benten, the goddess of arts, literature, music, and dance, quite appropriate for my wife and I -- its own community center -- exactly what it sounds like, a center for holding a variety of community meetings, get-togethers, barbecues, and so on -- its own sports team for the annual sports day competitions with other villages -- a funny and endearing event which deserves its own separate article.

During good weather, meaning only excepting the brutal winter months, the village gets together once or twice a month to . . . are you ready? . . . clean up the neighborhood! 

Actually, since folks here rarely litter, going around to pick up gum wrappers and empty soda cans is kind of a pointless task.  So usually we do other much more useful things, like tend to the vast system of irrigation ditches and channels, cut weeds, clear excess bamboo and other unwanted wild growth.



Today's job was working on a wall which always sprouts all sorts of destructive weeds and shrubs.  While men with weed-whackers cleared the undergrowth from the surrounding area, the rest of us chopped away at what was growing on the wall.  Note that we don't take the easy way out -- using carcinogenic Roundup -- but just do it by hand.  Chop chop!

Our work sessions last from 3 to 4 hours.  After nearly two hours, we take a short break.  The village provides rolls and tea, and we just lounge about and talk, resting up for the final assault on the day's project.



After cleaning up the wall, everyone returned to the community center, potted flowers for beautifying the neighborhood -- they are placed all along the major paths and lanes which wind through our village -- and were given flowers and potting soil to take home for our own personal use.



Today's work was fairly easy.  Other times I've been up to my ankles in snake-infested, muddy water, or clearing thick brush which intrudes on the rice and soybean fields if left unchecked.  But it's always good exercise and overall a pleasant experience.

People here ask me if I did this sort of thing in America.  That's easy to answer.  Never! 

I think back on life in the U.S. spanning many decades and the lack of much community spirit, the obsession with privacy, and what would appear to be a pathological devotion to avoiding personal contact with all but the most familiar in one's personal circles.  There is a paranoia, a distrust, a suspicion that overshadows normal, natural social proclivities.

How sad!

People like to blame it on modernity, technology, industrialization, the new economy.

But Japan is about as modern and technologically advanced as any country in the world.  People are consumers par excellence here.  The shopping malls are always packed!  Japan has unfortunately embraced the Western economic model as well.  Certainly it's not casino capitalism, but definitely a tamer version of it -- look at its frightening debt to GDP ratio!

Despite that, they have kept alive some traditions which promote sense of community, and the shared responsibility of living in that community.  They create opportunities to work together for the common good, get to know one another, and just enjoy other folks who happen to live in the same geographical setting.  Like our clean up days!

What a powerful and rewarding ritual this is!

Another reason for me to say . . .

I love Japan!  



[ This originated at the author's personal website . . . http://jdrachel.com ]



I Love Japan Redux