The Japanese and Ancestor Veneration

The Japanese and Ancestor Veneration

by Kokan Sasaki

Buddhism in Japan features a unique relationship between the Buddha and deceased kindred and ancestors. Long efforts by sects and denominations to steer followers away from ancestors to the Buddha have had little success.

The morning television serial dramas presented by the Japan Broadcasting Corporation (NHK) have become an established institution in Japan. Each of the serials by and large focuses on family problems and is characterized by the usual presence of female characters in the leading role. The plots typically chronicle a period in the life of a woman who perseveres through difficult times brought about by circumstances beyond her control. One of the most recent (its final episode was aired in March of this year) was no exception. Imo Tako Nankin (Sweet Potato, Octopus, Pumpkin), adapted from an essay by award-winning writer Seiko Tanabe and set in Osaka in the late 1960s, tells the story of Machiko, a middle-aged single woman who aspires to be a writer. Falling ill from fatigue, she subsequently falls in love with her doctor, Kenjiro, and upon their marriage goes to live with his extended family. Both comical and heart-warming, the drama depicts the complications of the everyday lives of ordinary Japanese people.

Toward the end of the serial, Kenjiro is hospitalized with a serious illness. When his condition worsens, Machiko is shown holding his hand tightly and enunciating the names of deceased family members, desperately imploring each to "save my husband, please, save my husband." Meanwhile, her own mother is seen opening the doors of the household Buddhist altar in the back room of their home and lighting candles and burning incense before the image of the Buddha. Then, rubbing prayer beads between her hands, she too evokes the names of their late relatives, frantically begging each to "please, oh please, save my daughter's husband." Inside the elegant altar on the top shelf is the main image, a statue that appears to be Shakyamuni, or perhaps Amida (Amitabha), and beneath it stand the memorial tablets of a number of ancestors.

It is obvious that this family is Buddhist. Surely then, when a family member is in a situation of great peril we would expect that person to seek the help of Shakyamuni or Amida, who after all are enshrined in the altar. Yet the characters in this drama do not address the main image, but rather seek the help of their ancestors. Generally speaking, the Buddhist faith centers on devotion to the Three Treasures: the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha (community of believers), and the phrase chanted by Japanese Buddhists, "Namu Kie Butsu" (I take refuge in the Buddha) denotes devotion to the first of these Treasures. Nevertheless, in this drama, the words the characters voice in their desperation are not addressed to the Buddha but to their deceased kindred and ancestors. How are we to explain this? Did the television series present an exceptional example of religious practice? The answer is to the contrary.

In their religious consciousness, most Japanese "Buddhists" affiliated with the sects and denominations of traditional Buddhism, with only a few special exceptions, hold the idea that deceased kindred and ancestors are closer to them than the Buddha of their sect. This is because to many of his followers the reason for the Buddha's importance to them lies in the fact that they believe his power would protect and comfort their ancestors. In other words, their devotion to the Buddha is based on principle, while their devotion to deceased kindred and ancestors indicates their true underlying affection. Buddhism in Japan features a unique relationship between the Buddha and deceased kindred and ancestors. This can be regarded as something very particular, even in the broad context of all the varying Buddhist practices in Asia. Buddhist sects and denominations have actually long tried to steer their followers' devotion away from the ancestors to the Buddha, but in spite of all their efforts at education the Buddha-ancestors power balance has not, in my opinion, undergone significant changes to this day. Why is this?

One key to answering this complicated question can be found in the writings of Kunio Yanagita, the founding father of Japanese folklore studies, in a work concerning the distinctive view about life and death held by most Japanese.

First, [the Japanese people] believed that even after death people's spirits remained in this land and did not move far away. Second, they believed that spirits traveled freely between their concealed world and our apparent world, not only on the occasion of the regular spring and autumn festivals, but also whenever they wished to do so, as well as when they were called upon to do so. Third, they believed that the last wishes of a living person would certainly be realized after their death. And fourth, they thus made various posthumous plans to ensure the welfare of their descendants. People could be reborn again and again to continue their undertakings.

(Teihon Yanagita Kunio Shu [Authorized Collection of Writings
by Kunio Yanagita], vol. 10, Tokyo: Chikuma Shobo, 1962).

In other words, as far as most Japanese are concerned, the dead are never very far from the world of the living but rather maintain close communication between the realms of the living and the dead, and continue a certain intimacy with the living. What is more, in addition to watching over the well-being of the family line, the ancestors return eventually to be reborn in the bodies of their own descendants. For Yanagita there could be no reconciliation between the concept of the "ever-present dead" and the Buddhist (especially Pure Land Buddhist) idea of rebirth in Amida's Pure land after traversing the "ten thousand billion lands" in the west.

[People] wished that even after their physical bodies disintegrated they would remain in this land, . . . visiting the homes of their progeny, and looking on as they grew up and went out to work in the world. The perspective of the Buddhist priests as suggested by the final attainment of buddhahood upon death . . . and their intention to send the spirits of the ancestors to a far distant realm went completely against the sensitivities of the people.

(Kunio Yanagita, 1962)

Yanagita grieves over the fact that with the spread of Buddhist doctrine in Japan people came to believe that those who were once close to us pass away to a distant place (the Pure Land), but I wonder whether indeed this is their belief?

Judging from the religious practices and observances of Buddhists, it would seem that the deceased kindred and ancestors are neither far away nor by our side, but rather that they occupy both places simultaneously. That is to say, they live at the same time both in the yonder Pure Land, as maintained in Pure Land Buddhism, and also in the local cemetery as well as in the household altar.

As I stated at the beginning of this essay, however, the Japanese probably feel closer to their deceased kindred as represented by the memorial tablets on the household altar than to them as "buddhas" reborn in the Pure Land. For this reason it is difficult for them to choose a single object of devotion from between the Buddha (as the enshrined main image in temples and on altars) and the deceased kindred and ancestors. This difficulty is shown in the following passage in a book by Tetsuo Watanabe, a famous psychopathologist:

I am aware that in my heart I hold the conviction that the nature of existence for the dead is dualistic. As far as I am concerned, however, the abstract aspect of existence of the dead (as inhabitants of the Pure Land) is something of a superficial state, while deep down in my heart the dead continue to exert their power in their bodily state. For me, the dead become "buddhas" (hotoke), remaining here in this realm, and become kami (deities), to sustain me.

(Shi to Kyoki: Shisha no Hakken [Death and Madness:
The Discovery of the Dead], Tokyo: Chikuma Shobo, 1991.)

In view of this, how should we understand the "superficial" and the "archetypal" in terms of religious consciousness?

***

In Japan, the months of July and August carry special significance, especially for Buddhists, as it is in this period that o-bon (urabon, the rites for the repose of the dead) takes place. Although it is a custom less commonly seen these days, households traditionally kindle a welcome-fire (mukaebi) in front of their home to welcome the spirits of their deceased kindred and ancestors on the evening of July (or in some areas August) 13. Between the 14th and the 15th they venerate the dead, putting out offerings of food and other items for the visiting spirits on a shelf known as the bon shelf. Finally, the spirits are told farewell with a send-off fire (okuribi) lit on the evening of the 16th. During this time Buddhist priests from the family temple visit the homes of their parishioners and recite sutras in front of the bon shelf. It is also during this period that many people visit their family graves. It is at this time too that those who have left their birthplace to work in the large cities have time off to return to their hometowns and pay their respects to their forebears. For this reason the nation experiences huge traffic congestion at this time, as well as over the New Year holidays, and it is not without reason that the period is called a "great exodus."

Many people head back to their hometowns at this time because they believe that it is then that their deceased kindred and ancestors do the same. They are drawn by a strong religious instinct that tells them they owe their current existence in happiness and health to the many generations of ancestors that have watched over them. Through spending the period of o-bon in their birthplaces and feasting in honor of their deceased kindred and ancestors, they rejuvenate their own spirits and return to work refreshed. I like to believe also that those who participate in the public bon dancing that takes place during this period come to appreciate that this world we see with our eyes receives constant support and protection from that other world we do not see. O-bon testifies to the fact that, as Yanagita postulated, the dead remain in this world and maintain an intimate relationship with the living.

O-bon is a Buddhist celebration and the busiest time of year for priests. Many use the occasion to expound the principles and ideals of Buddhist doctrine to their followers. In reality, however, people are somewhat reluctant about bracketing "the Buddha" with "the dead," since the importance of the Buddha as far as followers are concerned lies in his power to comfort the spirits of the ancestors. In this sense I believe that Tetsuo Watanabe's perspective that the Buddha corresponds to the "superficial state" and the ancestors to "the archetypal state" is exactly right.

Some intellectuals use terms like "funerary Buddhism" and "ancestor worship" in a semicritical way to describe traditional Japanese Buddhism and tend to look down on the devotion of ordinary people to their deceased kindred and ancestors. However, if they studied the innate religious inclinations of ordinary Japanese more closely, I am sure that it would soon become clear to them how superficial such an outlook is. To speak plainly, beliefs surrounding deceased kindred and ancestors are the motivating force behind Buddhism, and steer the course of that faith. I have used the term "practical Buddhism" to describe this intricate relationship between the buddhas and ancestors in my book Hotoke to Chikara: Nihon Bukkyo Bunka no Jitsuzo (The Buddhas and Power: The Real Aspect of Buddhist Culture in Japan, Tokyo: Yoshikawa Kobunkan, 2002). That relationship constitutes the very nature of much religious life in Japan. The symbiosis of the Buddha and the ancestors is a fundamental aspect of "practical Buddhism," and we must, I believe, first and foremost embrace this basic fact as we strive to revitalize Buddhist culture.

Kokan Sasaki, Litt.D., was a professor in the Faculty of Literature at Komazawa University, Tokyo, where he is now professor emeritus. His specialty is religious anthropology and cultural anthropology. His recent books include Butsuriki: Seikatsu Bukkyo no Dainamizumu (The Buddha Power: Dynamism of Living Buddhism).

This article was originally published in the July-September 2007 issue of Dharma World.


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