Second Nanzan Seminar For The Study of Japanese Religions: Alena Govorounova
Second Nanzan Seminar For The Study of Japanese Religions: Alena Govorounova
Second Nanzan Seminar For The Study of Japanese Religions: Alena Govorounova
Alena Govorounova
Research Associate, Nanzan Institute for Religion & Culture
T
he second “Nanzan Seminar for the Study of Japanese Religions”
was held at the Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture on the
weekend of 30–31 May 2015. Five graduate students from the United
States and Canada—along with five Japanese commentators, the
Nanzan Institute staff, and numerous scholars of religion, both local and inter-
national—gathered to present and discuss their research on Japanese religions.
The seminar was conducted completely in Japanese.
The Seminar began with a opening remarks by Michael Calmano (President,
Nanzan University) and Okuyama Michiaki (Director, Nanzan Institute for Reli-
gion and Culture), both of whom commented on the success of the first “Nanzan
Seminar” in 2013 and expressed hope that the second Seminar would be just as
productive and intellectually stimulating.
Presenters
Eric Swanson (Harvard University). “The Subjugation of Original Hindrance in
Esoteric Buddhist Ritual: Myōō and the function of subjugation in the writ-
ings of Godaiin Annen.”
Luke Thompson (Columbia University). “Bringing Śākyamuni to Japan: The
Japanese Reception of the Hikekyō and the Medieval Fabrication of Myth.”
Paride Stortini (University of Chicago). “East and West of the Tsukiji Honganji.”
Justin Stein (University of Toronto). “Usui Reiki Ryōhō, Reiki, and the Discur-
sive Space of Spiritual Healing in Twentieth-Century Japan.”
Commentators
Five Japanese scholars representing various fields of research in Japanese reli-
gions (modern Buddhism, religious history, classical Japanese literature and
religion, religion and gender, New Religious Movements, and others) were
invited to provide comments and advice to the presenters:
Abe Yoshirō (Nagoya University)
Kobayashi Naoko (Aichi Gakuin University)
Ōtani Eiichi (Bukkyō University)
Yoshida Kazuhiko (Nagoya City University)
Yoshinaga Shin’ichi (Maizuru National College of Technology)
temple we will see that Zen has grown out of Mikkyō and as a challenge to
Mikkyō—this is why it is crucial to pay close attention to primary sources.
Abe insisted that Buddhist temples around Japan have innumerable precious
historical documents yet to be discovered—the Ōsu-kannon temple is only one
of them. A team of scholars has been sorting out, systematizing and preserv-
ing the archives of the Ōsu-kannon temple for future generations—but there
are still many other temples whose archives are waiting to be systematized and
preserved.
Abe also shared that he has been involved in a wide-ranging research
project on the history of Aichi Prefecture. The Ōsu-kannon temple and other
temples in Aichi Prefecture contain a huge number of historical documents
which have been collected, analyzed, and interpreted by local historians.
The documents were fragmented and it took much time and effort to make
a coherent compilation of the history of Aichi Prefecture, but in the end the
team of historians managed to publish a history of Aichi Prefecture in one
volume. In this regard, Abe emphasized the importance of teamwork and
research networks: it would be impossible for a single researcher to analyze all
historical documents from ancient times until present, even if limited to the
parameters of local history. Grandiose research projects require team effort
and the exchange of ideas.
In conclusion, Abe advised the young scholars to (1) pay close attention
to primary sources as opposed to secondary sources—not only in Japan but
around the world; (2) take risks, create international research networks, meet
new people, seek opportunities to meet prominent scholars in the field, and so
forth. Most importantly, speaking from his experience as a young student, Abe
encouraged the participants to never underestimate the significance of improb-
able meetings (fishigina deai) with interesting people who can bring a fresh
perspective to their research and may change their direction entirely.
Following the introductions, the participants and commentators had a brief
discussion during which the main questions for the present seminar were out-
lined: (1) what are the new ways to overcome orientalism in the field of Buddhist
Studies? (2) how can we practically improve research networks uniting Buddhist
scholars around the world? (3) how can we create or improve the existing acces-
sible databases for the international community of researchers?
Okuyama wrapped up the first part of the Seminar, “Many pessimistic voices
have arisen recently saying that the future of the academia is gloomy. This is not
true. As we are seeing today at his Seminar, we have savvy mature academics and
we have brilliant young scholars and there is an intellectual connection between
these two generations. It gives us hope that the future is bright and the academic
world is yet to see great things from the new generation of intellectuals.”
Eric Swanson
Eric Swanson spoke on “The Subjugation of Original Hindrance in Esoteric
Buddhist Ritual: Myōō and the function of subjugation in the writings of
Godaiin Annen”:
“My research background has mainly been in Buddhology and the philological
study of Buddhist texts, focusing on the Esoteric Buddhist tradition. Broadly
speaking, I am interested in studying the concept of chōbuku 調伏, or “subjuga-
tion,” in the Esoteric Buddhist tradition and how this concept developed across
various religious traditions in East Asia, with a particular focus on the medieval
period in Japan. Chōbuku is a concept that appears across various religious
practices throughout the medieval period, ranging from visualized subjugation
of ignorance in the context of Esoteric Buddhist rituals, the ritual submission of
local kami, the dispelling of ghosts and spirits by mountain ascetics, the purging
of plagues, and the subjugation of political enemies, as seen in rituals conducted
with the purpose of eradicating Taira no Masakado’s rebellion and the Mongol
Invasions. Despite the fact that the rhetoric of subjugation had a profound
impact in the way in which religious culture developed in the medieval period,
there has yet to be a sufficient study regarding how the concept of subjugation
developed during this period.
“For the paper I presented at the Nanzan Seminar for the Study of Japanese
Religions, I discussed the role of myōō 明王 and its function as the subjugator of
hindrances (shō 障) as seen in the writings of Godai-in Annen 五大院安然 (841–
915?), with a particular focus on his notion of ‘the samadhi of the subjugation of
demons’ (gōma san’maji 降魔三昧地), as seen in his Shingonshū kyōjigi 真言宗教
時義. A close reading of Annen’s doctrinal analysis of the role of myōō in rela-
tion to concepts of subjugation provides a better understanding of the function
of Esoteric Buddhist ritual and points to important implications it has regard-
ing soteriological concerns of enlightenment in the Esoteric Buddhist tradition.
DISCUSSION
Abe was the first to comment on Swanson’s presentation. He pointed out that
Swanson’s presentation was very well-organized, clearly-structured and insight-
ful. As a piece of advice, Abe suggested that Swanson should have provided
more in-depth background on the evolution of Annen’s religious views.
In this respect, in addition to the works by Kuroda Toshio and Tamura
Yoshirō selected by Swanson, Abe recommended the work by the Nichibunken
professor, Sueki Fumihiko 末木文美士, 平安初期仏教思想史研究—安然の思想形
成を中心として、 1995). This book provides a comprehensive all-rounded introduc-
tion to the Annen’s thought and it also elucidates Annen’s role as a historical
figure in ancient Japan. “Swanson’s research introduces the concept of subjuga-
tion as a useful tool for the re-interpretation of Annen’s understanding of Bud-
dhism and this new perspective opens the door of opportunity to revisit ancient
Buddhist history in Japan with fresh eyes. However, it would have been helpful
if Swanson had given more attention to the fundamentals of Annen’s thought
and provided a more comprehensive ‘big picture’ on his religious views,” com-
mented Abe. “The significance of the concept of subjugation in understanding
of Annen’s thought may be easier to grasp when one knows who Annen really
was and what he accomplished. It is important to remember that Annen was a
great religious reformer who sparked a powerful paradigm shift in the accep-
tance of Buddhism in ancient Japan by emphasizing the metaphysical aspects of
Mikkyō cosmology. Annen turned the tables when he prioritized Mikkyō over
Tendai, following Kūkai who perceived Shingon as the first among various Bud-
dhist sects in Japan.”
Abe also indicated that we need to keep in mind a wide range of problems
when thinking about the formation of early Buddhism in Japan and the problem
of language is one of them. The importation of kanji (Chinese characters), the
formation of the Japanese writing system (kango, wago, gojūon), etc. were intri-
cately interwoven with the evolution of the early Buddhist thought in Japan (in
fact, Kūkai put particular emphasis on the choice of kanji.)
Finally, we need to remember that Annen’s greatest influence was in his
introduction of the idea of sokushin jōbutsu to ancient Japan. Sokushin jōbutsu
means that one becomes a Buddha in this present physical body. This soteriolog-
ical concept of the embodiment of salvation (deliverance, enlightenment) went
far beyond the Mikkyō sect and influenced all Buddhist sects in Japan.
Abe went on to explain that the problematization of “the samadhi of the
subjugation of demons” in Mikkyō should be approached in the broader con-
text of the four types of mandala (shishu mandara), which reflect various types
of samadhi and the role of the Wisdom King Acala (Fudō-myōō) as a very
important representative of samadhi. Another important idea for Annen was
the idea of the interconnectedness of all things (“one is in all and all is in one”).
This idea became predominant in Mikkyō first and then influenced all other
Buddhist sects in Japan (“One Buddha [Buddha-mindfulness or nenbutsu] is in
all Buddhas and all Buddhas are in one Buddha”). This was a starting point of
Annen’s philosophy which evolved into the concept of “the samadhi of the sub-
jugation of demons” by the power of the Wisdom King Acala and Aizen Myōō.
Annen was very serious about the popularization of the cult of both Fudō Myōō
and Aizen Myōō; he was concerned with the standardization of their style, ritu-
als, cosmology and other religious aspects. But what is crucial to understand
here is that it was Annen who was responsible for the popularization of the cult
of Aizen Myōō in Japan. Aizen Myōō was not part of the Five Great Wisdom
Kings of (godai myōō) of the Womb Realm of Vajrayana and, therefore, not part
of the Kūkai’s Buddhist world. But thanks to Annen, the impact of the cult of
Aizen Myōō in medieval Japan became very deep: eventually, it got far greater
than that of Fudō Myōō. Abe concluded that we need to keep in mind Annen’s
starting point in order to understand his philosophy and to trace how Japanese
Esoteric Buddhism evolved, spread and got perceived in Japan and the world.
In this regard, Abe expressed hope that Swanson would touch more upon these
issues in his analysis of Annen’s thought and recommended the work of Yama-
moto Hiroko 山本ひろ子,「中世における愛染明王法 そのポリティクスとエロス」『 ( 日本
の美術 376 愛染明王像, 1997).
Swanson responded that, unfortunately, he was not able to touch on various
fundamental aspects of Annen’s religious philosophy in his presentation due to
time restrains. He commented that the cult of Aizen Myōō is, indeed, critical
to the understanding of Annen’s thought. This cult grew from Kūkai’s original
teachings but it had not been popularized prior to Annen for both political and
doctrinal reasons. Unlike his predecessor Enchin, Annen did not seem to have
had political acumen with regard to the spread of his teachings, and the cult of
Aizen Myōō was not adopted by the Hieizan Tendai School because it was not
deemed necessary there.
Yoshida asked Swanson three questions. First, he asked for a clarification of
the meaning of rikiyū (as opposed to ron’yū) in Annen’s philosophy. Second, he
requested a clarification of Annen’s understanding of the relationship between
the Diamond Realm and the Womb Realm. Obviously, Annen’s explanation
of the relationship between the two realms followed the original version by
Hui-kuo, but was there a difference? Is it true that Hui-kuo did not distin-
guish between the two realms, but Annen did? Finally, Yoshida inquired about
Gōzanze Myōō and his role in the conceptualization of subjugation.
Swanson responded that the reason why Annen preferred the term rikiyū to
ronyū was that while ronyū, in the context in which Chih-i used it in his com-
mentary on the Lotus Sutra meant the “function of the teachings,” Annen’s use
of the term rikiyū emphasized the “function of the power of the Buddha.” Per-
haps Annen wanted to make a distinction between Chih-i’s focus on the text to
a stronger emphasis on the implications of the power of the Buddha’s speech in
the Esoteric Buddhist ritual.
As for Annen’s understanding of the Diamond Realm and the Womb Realm,
Swanson suggested that, indeed, the conceptualization of the Diamond Realm
and the Womb Realm as a picture of the Buddhist universe is central to Mikkyō-
Shingon faith as established by Kōbō Daishi Kūkai. While both realms were
important for Hui-kuo, in Japan there was a tendency to focus on one over the
other mainly due to issues of lineage and institutional differences. The Tendai
lineage tended to focus more on the Womb Realm and the Shingon lineage the
Diamond Realm. Annen’s interest in Yugikyō and Aizen Myōō may have been
partially influenced by Kūkai’s writings, which tended to focus on the teachings
of the Diamond Realm. This difference of emphasis between the Tendai and
Shingon lineages may also explain why the cult of Aizen Myōō was not initially
adopted by the Hieizan Tendai School.
Finally, regarding Gōzanze Myōō and his role in the conceptualization of
subjugation, Swanson responded that being the subjugation of Mahesvara—the
deity of the triloka (the three realms that constitute our world)— Gōzanze Myōō
was considered to have control over all things. This idea was particularly real-
ized in Shingon rituals which emphasized that Gōzanze Myōō had the power
to subjugate all things in the three realms. Annen cultivated the worship of
Gōzanze Myōō as reflected in the Shingon Rishukyō doctrine/rituals.
Other questions from the audience concerned the number of linguistic dif-
ficulties which arise in dealing with Buddhist terms. How can gōma san’maji be
translated into English? How can rikiyū be translated into English? Swanson
responded that the most appropriate equivalent for san’maji would be “concen-
tration” or “meditation” but, perhaps, it is best to leave the Sanskrit original as
it is: samadhi. Gōma san’maji then would be “the subjugation of evil.” Rikiyū
is even more difficult to translate; we translate it simply as “function,” which
does not reflect the original depth of the meaning of the Chinese character. The
participants concluded that for the understanding of the evolution of Japanese
Buddhism it is crucially important to trace the original meaning of Buddhist
terms back to their original Chinese texts or even back to Sanskrit, otherwise
the original meaning may be “lost in translation.”
Luke Thompson
The second presentation of the day was on, “Bringing Śākyamuni to Japan: The
Japanese Reception of the Hikekyō and the Medieval Fabrication of Myth,” by
Luke Thompson (Columbia University). He summarized his presentation high-
lights as follows:
assertions develop is not always entirely clear. In the same way that the Nihongi
became a symbol of sorts—an authority to which one could refer to make a
number of related claims—so too did the Hikekyō become an authoritative text
to which one could refer when making assertions about Śākyamuni and his
salvific character.
One problem Thompson pointed to is the lack of scholarship on Japanese
worship of and understandings of Śākyamuni. Admittedly this could be attrib-
uted to the fact that in Japan (much as in other Buddhist countries) Śākyamuni’s
centrality was always eclipsed by other buddhas, bodhisattvas, and deities,
who were of far greater relevance to the needs of clerics, aristocrats, warriors,
merchants, farmers, and so on. However, Thompson believes that it is precisely
because of this fact that the rise in Japanese devotion to Śākyamuni during the
early medieval period (albeit only among certain groups) is so interesting. What
function did Śākyamuni now perform? Why was he more suitable than other
buddhas and bodhisattvas?
Thompson argued that the function of Śākyamuni in this case was to link
Japanese Buddhism to the origins of Buddhism (in the figure of the Indian
Buddha). This concern with origins—with returning to the fundamentals and
to the wellspring of the tradition—should in turn be understood in the context
of the instability of the twelfth century and the razing of Kōfukuji and Tōdaiji in
1180. In this sense, those that turned to Śākyamuni were not so dissimilar from
those who turned to Amida: both groups created new devotional focal points as
a means of coming to terms with (and perhaps escaping from) a period that was
seen as the final age of the Dharma, on the one hand, and was characterized by
civil war and social instability, on the other.
But where does the Hikekyō fit into all of this? Thompson argued that the
Hikekyō’s portrayal of Śākyamuni was attractive because it so emphasized the
Buddha’s vow to be reborn in a defiled world (rather than a pure land) and thus
the Buddha’s connection to us. This is something that is present in the Lotus
Sūtra and Nirvāṇa Sūtra, two other possible sources for Japanese devotion to
Śākyamuni, but not to the same extent. Thus, for those wishing to “return” to
Śākyamuni, the Hikekyō’s Buddha was far more satisfying than the transcenden-
tal Buddha of the Lotus Sūtra and Nirvāṇa Sūtra.
The role of the Hikekyō in medieval Japan has been touched upon by Jap-
anese scholars (most notably Iwagami Kazunori 石上和敬, Sueki Fumihiko 末
木文美士, Narita Teikan 成田貞寛, and Imahori Taitsu 今堀太逸 but no one
has used devotion to Śākyamuni and the Japanese reception of the Hikekyō
together as a lens through which to understand contemporaneous issues (e.g.,
early medieval Japanese Buddhist historical thought and identity). While it is
true that the importance of Śākyamuni never reached the levels enjoyed by, say,
Amida, Kannon, Inari, or Hachiman, and while the influence of the Hikekyō
remained limited to particular circles and institutions, the Hikekyō and the
Śākyamuni-devotion for which it served as scriptural authority forces us to ask
questions about how Japanese Buddhists understood their own position within
Buddhist history. In this way research on this topic can shed light on issues of
broad and lasting significance within Japanese and Buddhist Studies.
discussion
Yoshida was the first to comment on Tompson’s presentation. He pointed out
that this research theme is not only very interesting but also very important for
Buddhist Studies in general. Yoshida stated that it is indeed very interesting that
Japanese monks and texts of the 12th century started attributing salvific proper-
ties to Śākyamuni despite the original texts not containing this idea. Yoshida
suggested that the doctrines of sangoku and mappō, which originated in China
and spread to Japan, played a major role in it. He insisted that we need to investi-
gate how these doctrines look in the original Sanskrit texts and in their Chinese
adaptations.
“In my understanding,” said Yoshida, “what happened was that originally
mappō was associated with Miroku Bosatsu (Maitreya) but gradually the mappō
soteriology shifted toward the cult of Amida (Amitābha) in Japan. Perhaps,
clerics Jōkei and Myōe wanted to correct this erroneous tendency and tried to
bring Japanese Buddhism back to the right course: ‘It is Shaka, it is not Amida!’
Perhaps, they also liked the fact that Śākyamuni took 500 vows in contrast to
Amida who took ‘only’ 48 vows. Maybe they felt that it made it easier to ‘outdo’
the cult of Amida?” proposed Yoshida. “The Japanese clerics of that time were
probably well aware of the fact that the mappō doctrine had deviated from
its Indian origins and had undergone significant transformations as it spread
through China and South East Asia. Then, when Hōnen linked the mappō doc-
trine to the cult of Amida, perhaps, Jōkei and Myōe felt prompted to rebel and
propose the alternative? And as they were trying to do that, they came up with
a reformed image of Śākyamuni as a savior as opposed to the original image of.
Śākyamuni as a teacher. May we assume that the doctrines of Jōkei and Myōe
arose in opposition to the Pure Land Buddhism and other sects?”
Thompson responded that it is an interesting suggestion and it could be true.
Jōkei was actually devoted to Amida as well, particularly early on in his career.
However, in a number of works he criticized those who worshipped Amida to
the exclusion of all others.
Yoshida restated this question on the relationship between the mappō doc-
trine and the emergence of the soteriological image of Śākyamuni in the 12th
century Japan: “We know (according to the Advent of Maitreya Sutra – A.G.)
that Maitreya, being a successor of Śākyamuni, will reappear in the world 5,670
million years after Śākyamuni’s death. Could it be true that Jōkei and Myōe
wanted to emphasize this fact and to strip Amida of his ‘false’ image as a savior?”
Thompson replied that (1) Jōkei’s understanding of the mappō doctrine is
unclear; (2) Nevertheless, there is clear connection between the mappō doctrine
and Śākyamuni’s reappearance as daimyōjin; (3) It is most probable that clerics
Jōkei, Myōe, and Eison were more concerned with bringing Buddhism back
to its original roots rather than with the reform of the mappō doctrine. They
wanted, first and foremost, to reconnect Buddhism with its historical founder,
Śākyamuni.
Abe was next to comment on Thompson’s presentation and suggested that
we should not underestimate the role of mythology in the production of the
image of Śākyamuni as a salvific figure. Medieval myth (chūsei shinwa) is a
powerful creative force; it draws on Buddhist concepts and creates new worlds
far greater than the original Buddhist doctrines. There are multiple examples in
the history of medieval literature: popular myths using the tools of hyperbola,
grotesque, and exaggeration take historical figures and bestow them with divine
powers. It could be true, of course, that there was a noble attempt to go back to
the “pure Buddhist doctrine” in ascribing salvific powers to Śākyamuni, but it
could also be true that it was the power of the myth-consciousness stretching
the doctrine beyond its original limits (especially that we see that Śākyamuni
was conceptualized as daimyōjin.) As we see on the Kasugamiya mandara 春日
宮曼荼羅 painting (Nara National Museum), daimyōjin representing Śākyamuni
was not merely an abstract figure for Jōkei, Myōe, and Eison—he was a very real
figure. We know that this medieval mythography is not unique to Buddhism; it
is universal and widely present in all religions.
Awazu supported Abe’s idea of the universal mythographic tendency to exag-
gerate and stretch original doctrines by giving an example from Christianity. In
Christianity, revivals are often linked with apocalyptic and soteriological ideas
and it could have been that the ascribing of the salvific properties to Śākyamuni
as a savior in the 12th century Japan was a similar phenomenon.
Yoshida inquired who appeared first as a compassionate savior in the
Japanese Buddhist consciousness: Śākyamuni or Kannon (Avalokiteśvara)?
Thompson and Abe confirmed that Kannon (Avalokiteśvara) was obviously
the first. Abe explained that, as evident from Kasugamiya mandara, originally
daimyōjin was associated with Kannon but gradually shifted to Śākyamuni.
Swanson asked about the difference between the interpretation of the mappō
doctrine in the Hikekyō and in Tendai, Shingon, and Jōdo-shū schools. “We
know that Jōkei had faith in salvation through Amida but perhaps the idea of
salvation through Amida was too abstract? Maybe Jōkei tried to make the idea of
salvation more easily understandable and ‘user-friendly’? After all, we know that
the practical side of the doctrine of salvation by Śākyamuni was the Śākyamuni’s
relics: they had the power to give salvation during the long period of waiting
for the return of Maitreya. Was it because of the relics and the practical side of
the Hikekyō that the cult of Śākyamuni grew in power?” Thompson argued that
this is questionable because Jōkei seems to be using similar expressions when
discussing different approaches and he does not seem to discriminate between
the abstract and the concrete.
Dolce proposed that maybe Śākyamuni, being so close to this defiled world,
was a great inspiration for the faith of the masses? Abe suggested that maybe
another reason for the revival of the cult of Śākyamuni was the fact that Tōdaiji
was burnt down because of the war in 1180? Thompson concluded that we can
speculate about the factors which prompted the Japanese clerics of the 12th cen-
tury to rediscover the original roots of Buddhism in the Hikekyō but we do not
know the answer. Obviously, the conception of sangoku played a great role in
this process but what was the impetus for the portrayal of Śākyamuni as a sav-
ior: was it the war and political instability? Was it popularization of his image
in chūsei shinwa? Was it a form of competition between various Buddhist sects?
The question still stands.
Paride Stortini
Paride Stortini’s presentation focused on “East and West of the Tsukiji Honganji.
Interpreting the Modern History of a Peculiar Jōdo Shinshū Temple through
Translocative Analysis and Intercultural Mimesis.” In his own words:was by
Paride Stortini (University of Chicago). The following is the summary of the
presentation:
This presentation is aimed at applying two theories, Thomas Tweed’s “trans-
locative analysis” and Charles Hallisey’s “intercultural mimesis,” to the case
study of the Tsukiji Honganji temple in
Tokyo. The theoretical background of
such work was provided by my previ-
ous research on Buddhism in Europe,
when I found those two paradigms very
useful in making sense of the complex-
ity of production and exchange of ideas
about Buddhism in the orientalist and
colonial context, as well as in order
to follow the flow of religious ideas
through migration.
The Tsukiji Honganji temple, which
became part of my more recent interest
in the image of Indian Buddhism in
ject clearly demonstrates that most works he quoted were published after 2000.
Speaking of useful literature on the subject, Ōtani especially recommended the
book by Richard King, Orientalism and Religion: Post-Colonial Theory, India
and “The Mystic East” (1999). As for Japanese critics of orientalism, Ōtani
highly recommended the book by Kawase Takaya 川瀬貴也,『植民地朝鮮の宗
教と学知――帝国日本の眼差しの構築』(2009). This book gives a summary of the
range of approaches to the critique of orientalism in Japan. Still, there are very
few academic works on Buddhist material culture in Japan. This subject is very
popular in Europe and especially in the USA, but not in Japan, so Stortini’s work
is very significant.
Ōtani asked three questions: (1) Stortini’s analytical framework of intercul-
tural mimesis and transnational history is very helpful in analyzing such com-
plex architectural phenomenon as Tsukiji Honganji. Indeed, hybridity is typical
of modern Buddhism and Tsukiji Honganji is an excellent example of an eclectic
synthesis of cultures of Europe and Asia. But how about the political side of
things? For example, Richard Jaffe (see “Buddhist Material Culture, Indian-
ism, and the Construction of Pan-Asian Buddhism in Pre-War Japan,” Material
Religion 21/3 [2006]) has argued that building Indian buildings in Japan was
largely driven by political ambitions. Ōtani asked Stortini to clarify the politi-
cal elements in the construction of Tsukiji Honganji; (2) What is the religious
function of Tsukiji Honganji? What is a modern side of Tsukiji Honganji? What
is a traditional side of Tsukiji Honganji? (3) We know that many new religious
buildings were constructed during the modern period. These include Heian
Jingu (1895), Yasukuni Jinja (1869–1879), Nakayama Hokekyōji (1931), and finally
Tsukiji Honganji (1934). They were constructed using concrete and other stable
materials, which was a direct consequence of the Great Kanto Earthquake. How
does Tsukiji Honganji fit within the framework of the boom of construction of
Buddhist temples during the modern period?
Stortini responded that (1) when two worlds (European and Asian) or two
multifaceted civilizations (Occidental and Oriental) collide, it is not simply two
sides that clash at once but many different sides: political, economic, religious,
social, and even basic daily-life aspects. While his predecessors (see James E.
Ketelaar, “Strategic Occidentalism: Meiji Buddhists at the World’s Parliament
of Religions,” Buddhist-Christian Studies 11 [1991], and Richard Jaffe [op. cit.])
largely focused on the political reasons that informed such processes, Stortini
believes that his analytical framework should not be limited by the politics
alone. “Of course, we cannot ignore the political side of things. I am interested
in what role Tsukiji Honganji played during the period of imperialism from
the 1930s in Japan. But I am more interested in how the political side of things
influenced the general public and their perception of modern Buddhism in daily
life.” argued Stortini.
which brought pan-Asian and European elements together? Perhaps Itō Chūta
was partly influenced by the imperialistic atmosphere of his time? Perhaps we
cannot analyze Tsukiji Honganji apart from its (modern imperialistic, national-
istic) historical context?
Abe also stressed the importance of studying the history of Japanese archi-
tecture for Stortini’s research and especially the personality of Itō Chūta. Itō
Chūta was a founder of modern Japanese architectural style; he was the one
who sought to create a paradigm for Japanese architecture that would make it
strikingly different from the architectural styles of the rest of the world. Abe also
commented that—whether we want to admit it or not—in Japan, religious archi-
tecture plays an important role in creating a nationalistic image. For example,
we can see Japan’s contemporary obsession with unesco world heritage sites.
Japan went much further than most countries in creating numerous categories
of “national significance” or even local significance for the sites which did not
receive the status of the world heritage, and most of these sites are religious
temples and shrines. In Abe’s view, this designates a link between religion, archi-
tecture, and nationalism.
The audience also discussed the “international appeal” of Tsukiji Honganji in
terms of Strategic Occidentalism. According to Stortini, Tsukiji Honganji con-
ducts weddings with Christian-like or Western elements, such as ring exchange,
pipe organ music, and stained glass windows. The monthly Saturday lectures are
led in English and very often the priests that lead them have spent time in Jōdo
Shinshū communities in Hawai’i and California. The songs used are in English
and have been produced in the context of the Buddhist Churches of America,
and sometime use Christian terminology to translate Buddhist concepts. Stor-
tini insisted that intercultural mimesis is a useful interpretive tool to go beyond
the traditional dichotomy of East-West in making sense of the moment of cul-
tural contact and exchange. This can be applied in contexts as different as the
Tsukiji Honganji and Zen Buddhism in America. In the end, the debate revolved
around the concept of material (corporeal) culture. The discussants defined
material culture as an agent who “speaks.” We are used to thinking of an “agent”
and “recipient” in terms of human persons and we are forgetting that mate-
rial culture can be an agent, too. Material objects (relics, remains, memorials,
buildings) can be very moving and at times more powerful agents than human
agency.
Stortini concluded: “I am most interested in how common people perceived
Tsukiji Honganji at the time and what kind of influence Indian Buddhist thought
had on common people who visited this temple. I believe, contemporary Bud-
dhist Studies is too focused on the academic analysis of doctrines and religious
texts and gives very little attention to material culture. When I first saw Tsukiji
Honganji, I was thrilled by the academic potential of studying the dynamics of
Justin Stein
Next, Justin Stein made a presentation on
“Usui Reiki Ryōhō, Reiki, and the Discur-
sive Space of Spiritual Healing in Twenti-
eth-Century Japan.” He is a Ph.D. Candi-
date at the Department for the Study of
Religion at the University of Toronto and
completed a M.A. in Japanese Religion at
the University of Hawaii. His dissertation
examines the production of the spiritual
practices called Usui Reiki Ryōhō or Reiki
out of a series of interactions between
Americans and Japanese over the course
of the twentieth century. This study high-
lights the role of trans-local interaction
in 20th century cultural production in the North Pacific, focusing on ways that
Reiki practice has intersected with formulations of nation, religion, science, and
medicine. This paper focusses on the question of why Reiki was more “success-
ful” (attracted greater interest, became more widespread) in Japan following its
“re-importation to Japan” 逆輸入 in the 1980s and 1990s than it was at the time
of its inception in the 1920s. My thesis relies on a discursive shift establishing
a “third space” of spiritual healing between neither religion nor medicine. In
the 1920s, the government tolerated the unorthodox therapies of seishin ryōhō
and reijutsu, but they occupied a precarious position, as the Japanese state had
suppressed “folk therapies” and religious healing practices since the early Meiji.
Reiki practitioners at this time drew on religious authority while also distancing
Reiki practice from religion in response to anxiety about violating the Medical
Practitioners Law (ishihō). In contrast, the 1980s and 1990s saw the rise of the
categories of seishin sekai and “alternative medicine,” creating more accepted
discursive spaces for healing practices that draw on religious tradition without
being religious themselves. Finally, the conclusion (which was not read at the
seminar itself due to lack of time), looks at how this changed further in the
of new religions, scholars often use a concept of a “third space” between religion
and politics, religion and art, religion and science, et cetera. In this sense, how is
Reiki different from other new religions of the modern period?
Stein responded that, indeed, a “third space” is a very broad concept, which
should be used carefully. However, defining Reiki’s place on the religious mar-
ketplace may be more difficult than merely placing it amongst new religions.
Before the war, Reiki was perceived as a Shinto sect but not recognized legally
by the government, after the war it was legally recognized but pushed into the
“third space” on the discursive level. Thus, defining Reiki has been overcompli-
cated by both internal and external factors.
The participants further discussed the relationship between Reiki and new
religions. Yoshinaga noted that there is an active migration of converts between
Reiki and new religions. Moreover, some new religions adopt Reiki-like healing
methods into their teachings. Yoshinaga further clarified that Reiki’s connec-
tion to new religions is greater than Reiki practitioners would like to admit. He
even speculatively suggested that Usui Mikao’s Reiki teaching originated from
the Shinto cults of Ōmoto-kyō 大本教) and Tairei 太霊 which had existed long
before Reiki. Swanson also commented that Reiki draws on the Buddhist ideal
of compassion, which is an obvious relation to Buddhism. Stein further men-
tioned Suzuki Bizan 鈴木美山, an influential interpreter of the American new
religion of Christian Science, whose writings on what might be called the heal-
ing power of affirmation were incorporated into Reiki practice by the founder,
Usui. The list goes on.
In this respect, Yoshida asked some basic questions about Reiki: What lies
at the foundation of Usui’s teaching? Was there a person or people (or environ-
ment) that influenced Usui? Stein explained that in the foundation of Reiki lie
ancient syncretic spiritualistic traditions of Shugendō 修験道 and Mikkyō 密教)
In Shugendō, Mt. Kurama—the Reiki cradle—is considered the holy mountain.
The focus or goal of Shugendō is the development of spiritual experience and
spiritual power and it is no wonder that Usui attained enlightenment and con-
ceived the idea of Reiki on Mt. Kurama, one of the centers of Shugendō. Later
Usui incorporated other spiritual elements from various esoteric traditions into
Reiki, such as mind-cleansing techniques, breathing practices, spiritual reju-
venation and even some elements from Chinese medicine (hence the ki 気 of
Reiki) and Indian Yoga.
Swanson inquired about the image of Reiki in popular culture (particularly,
anime culture) and how the ideas of “space,” “universe,” “universal light” and
other science fiction buzz words contributed to the rise of Reiki’s popularity.
Stein responded that the popularization of Reiki in the West occurred way
before spirituality-related buzz words became incorporated into popular cul-
ture. The first wave of the spread of Reiki happened in the Taishō period, which
was marked by the cult boom connected to the social change in modernity.
The exportation of Reiki to the West at that time was mostly due to the efforts
of Takata Hawayo 高田ハワヨ a Hawaii-born Japanese American, who actively
promoted Reiki in the Engish-speaking world since 1937. She was the first to
develop the now-standard English translation of reiki as “universal energy,”
which was translated back into Japanese beginning in the 1980s as uchū enerugī
宇宙エネルギー. Additionally, terms such as uchū, which can mean “space” as well
as “universe,” and phrases like “the power of the universe” uchū no chikara 宇
宙の力 have been used in Reiki since the 1920s. Later, in the 1980s (Stein con-
tinued to explain) Reiki was further popularized by Barbara Weber Ray’s book,
The Reiki Factor: A Guide to Natural Healing, Helping and Wholeness (1983). The
seed fell on good soil: the 1970s and 1980s experienced the second “cult boom”
due to the rise of interest in spiritualistic traditions and New Age teachings of
all sorts. Spiritual literature on “self-exploration,” “self-knowledge,” and “self-
healing” was blossoming; numerous spiritual centers and seminars appeared
and Reiki quickly became one of the most appealing spiritual teachings at the
time. In Japan, the bubble economy of the 1980s with its production of surplus
wealth also indirectly contributed to the popularization of Reiki.
During the 1990s—the age of social instability, loss of traditional values, and
weakening of family ties—the interest in spirituality grew internationally and
Reiki triumphantly marched around the globe. According to Mochizuki Toshita
望月俊孝 (Iyashi no te: Uchū Energī (Reiki) katsuyōhō 癒しの手—宇宙エネルギー
「レイキ」活用法 (1995), it was the “crisis mentality” of the 1990s which propelled
Reiki to become popular at that time. In Japan, the “crisis mentality” felt espe-
cially real in the 1990s: the Great Hanshin Earthquake, the Tokyo Subway sarin
attack by Aum Shinrikyō, a growing threat of an environmental disaster—all of
these factors contributed to the creation of the
pre-apocalyptic atmosphere. Stein explained:
“This is where—according to Mochizuki—
Reiki swooped in with its declaration that the
20th century marks the end of this dark world
and the 21st century will bring the age of light.”
And what the future holds for the Reiki Heal-
ing movement, and what the 21st century is to
bring, is for us to explore.
Kyle Peters
The final presentation, “Producing the Self-
Itself ” by Kyle Peters may be summarized in
his own words:
2. See Michel Dalissier, “The Idea of the Mirror in Nishida and Dōgen,” in James W. Heisig, ed.,
Frontiers of Japanese Philosophy (Nagoya: Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture, 2006), 99–142.
over, if I cannot read Japanese, I would be staring at the pages of the book and
wondering what it means. The meaning does not exist “objectively” unless there
is someone who can decode it subjectively. And when I am reading this text,
who is creating the meaning? Was it the author who had originally created the
meaning or is it me, the reader, who is creating the meaning in her mind while
reading? And not to forget, as I am reading, I refract the original meaning in my
mind according to my personal background, experiences, and biases. What the
author had originally meant to say and what I understood through the prism of
my personality may be totally different in the end. In this respect, what is “the
objectivity of meaning” as a philosophical category?” That is to say, in semiotics
we have a problem of encoding and decoding of meaning. This is why we should
include the notion of the reader response into our analysis of the subject-object
relationship.
In response, Peters brought up Roland Barthes’s idea of the birth of the
reader and conceptualized that, according to Barthes, the author’s subjectivity is
produced through his death and as much as the reader’s subjectivity is produced
through his birth: the subjectivity of both is being produced through the text
at the moment of creation. Heisig also added that Nishida used an expression
mono o narikitte mono o shiru. “If we just stare at a blank piece of paper think-
ing, ‘I need to write,’ we will never write but as we start writing, we get to know
our creation in the process of production,” explained Heisig.
Saitō wrapped up the discussion by asking Peters how, in his opinion,
Barthes’s understanding of subjectivity was fundamentally different from that of
Nishida’s. “For Barthes, the central idea is a death of the author which produces
the birth of the reader,” explained Saitō, “and in Western philosophy, the death
of the author is linked to the death of God as much as the birth of the reader is
linked to the birth of man (human). In this sense, writing and reading are two
different processes. When we want to write something about a certain text, we
take the previous text as a locus but we end up creating a completely new text.
At this very moment when we have an itch to write something new on the basis
of something old, we experience the death of the author (the previous author of
the previous text had died) and the birth of the new reader (we are birthing an
entirely new text). Our own subjectivity arises in the process of reading, when we
have an urge to write, the birth of the reader is a counter-response to the death
of the author. So, how is Barthes’s model different from that of Nishida? Are not
they completely the same?”
Peters responded that while Barthes’s and Nishida’s models are theoreti-
cally similar, it is fair to say that one important way they differ is that Nishida’s
notion of the “self-determination of the absolute present” brings out important
temporal dimensions that are left out in Barthes’s analysis, and can help us think
further about artistic production and reception.
In the end, Abe reminded the discussants that one of the most important
aspects of Nishida’s subjectivist philosophy is its Zen Buddhist roots and the
fundamental Buddhist ideas of absolute nothingness and self-elimination. “We
cannot begin to appreciate Nishida’s interpretation of ‘the self ’ without referring
to the notion of jiko hitei (self-negation),” concluded Abe.
Concluding discussion
First, Okuyama gave the floor to the young graduate students who took turns
giving short speeches of appreciation reflecting on what they had learnt dur-
ing the past two days and expressing their gratitude to the commentators, the
participants, and to Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture for this special
opportunity to present at the Second Nanzan Seminar for the Study of Japanese
Religions.
Next, the commentators shared their impressions about the Seminar and
highlighted the most interesting trends that they could trace during the discus-
sions. All participants agreed that the Seminar was a great success for several
reasons: (1) a very high level of preparation and deliverance of presentations
by the graduate students (both content-wise and in terms of Japanese ability);
(2) a clear sense of academic parameters and analytical frameworks (“modern
Japanese Buddhism”; “cultural mimesis,” “transnational history,” “translocative
analysis,” and so forth), and (3) excellent time management skills by presenters,
commentators, and discussants (45 minute presentations followed by 45 minute
discussions).
One thing that all commentators and participants agreed upon was the
importance of working across the borders: geographic, academic, and cultural.
They also pointed out that the study of Japanese religions (Buddhism in particu-
lar) should be done within the paradigm of the “golden triangle”: India-China-
Japan. The present Seminar was a great success because it felt truly trans-border
or transnational and it manifested a strong sense of historical and cultural
coherence in the analysis of Japanese Buddhism.
In the end, Okuyama remarked that the Nanzan Seminar for the Study of
Japanese Religions provides a special opportunity for the international gradu-
ate students to give comprehensive presentations and discuss their research in
Japanese language. While Japanese graduate students have many chances to give
their presentations in English at international conferences, there are few (if any)
opportunities for international students to give their presentations in Japanese.
Okuyama expressed hope that the Seminar will blossom in the future and attract
many brilliant young scholars to the Nanzan Institute for Religion and Culture.