“Religion within Non-Religion” by Imaoka Shin’ichirō (1881-1988)—Kiitsu Kyokai, Sunday Sermon Summary, 1973

Religion within Non-Religion by Imaoka Shin’ichirō (1881-1988)

Kiitsu Kyokai, Sunday Sermon Summary, 1973  

The disciples of Christ, feeling hungry on the Sabbath, plucked heads of grain and ate. Witnessing this, the Pharisees criticized Jesus, questioning whether it was permissible to do such things on the Sabbath.

This story can be found in the Gospel of Mark and the Gospel of Matthew, and many of you may already be familiar with it. However, for Jews and Christians alike, the Sabbath has been and continues to be a sacred day, and it is considered inappropriate to engage in other activities. It’s also true that trains and buses aren’t running either.  

I remember when I became a Christian in junior high school and was taught not to do any exercise or study on Sundays, which troubled me. However, at that time, Jesus responded with a firm declaration of humanism, saying, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” This resolute statement breaks the rigid confines of religion and represents a true expression of liberal religious beliefs, don’t you think?

In my opinion, there isn’t a separate way of living called “religion” for humans; rather, I believe that in every aspect of life where humans try to live a truly human life, there exists a form of religion. Woodruff's idea that religion is a “Way of Life” resonates with me completely. In Japan, before the Meiji era, there was no word for “religion”; it was simply called '道' (Michi or Do), meaning “the Way.” And it was not limited to Buddhism or Shintoism but also included tea ceremonies, martial arts, farming, craftsmanship, medicine, and so on—each had its way, all of which, from our perspective, could be considered religions. So, one of the ideas of free religion is to remove the barrier between religious and secular life.
There’s a well-known story about Zen Master Hakuin and a merchant. The busy merchant, unable to visit the temple due to his work, apologized to the Zen master. Hakuin replied, “No, that’s excellent Zen.” Similar tales can be found in Christianity as well. There’s a story of a shoemaker who often missed church and said to the pastor, “I may not do anything for the church, but I consider myself a devout believer. I’m just working hard every day to make fine shoes.”

So, it’s not just during visits to temples or churches that one experiences religion, but rather, religion can be found within daily life and work.

Indeed, there exists a remarkable religion without a name or form. In fact, I dare say that within the magnificent grand temples and elaborate ceremonial robes, true religion might have perished, and instead, genuine religious experiences thrive outside the churches and temples.

In modern times, many people proclaim themselves as non-religious, yet among them, I know there are many who sincerely seek the path of humanity while dedicating themselves to their respective work. I call such individuals “potential followers of Free Religion.” Moreover, I find that even among those who vehemently oppose religion, such as Marxists, I often sense the same spirit.

One of the pioneers of the Free Religion movement, Ebina Danjo, who had the Hongo Church, as well as the present-day Free Religion Association and the precursor of Kiitsu Kyokai, the Unitarian Church, were quite active in religious activities during the Meiji and Taisho periods. However, close acquaintances such as Isao Abe, Ryotaro Nagai, Fumiharu Suzuki, Jiro Hoshijima, Sosaburo Uchigasaki, Komakichi Matsuoka, and Jotaro Kawakami gradually began to devote themselves to political or labour movements, leading to a decline in church activities. Nevertheless, they didn’t abandon religion; instead, they utilized it as a driving force to realize its spirit widely in society and aimed to create an ideal world. From the perspective of Free Religion, one could argue that the churches didn’t decline but, instead, flourished.
Therefore, I believe that even if all religious organizations in the world were to perish, human life would not collapse, and religion itself would not die. Just as lifelong education continues beyond school graduation, true education is inherently religious. Even in schools that are not missionary institutions, wherever teachers and students earnestly pursue learning and art, engaging in a life where souls touch one another, there lies a respectable form of religion. True education is, in essence, always religion.
With such thoughts in mind, the distinction between religion and ordinary life vanishes, and one may wonder whether the name “religion” is even necessary.

Indeed, there is something like the essence of religion, or one could say the essence of life. It exists in political activities, educational endeavours, art, academic work, agriculture, commerce, and industries—anywhere one seeks a sense of purpose, pursues the meaning of life, and explores human truth beyond oneself. Within me, I become aware of something greater than myself, something that connects to everyone like underground roots. By transcending the narrow boundaries of individuality, one can enter a larger world and attain a fulfilling life.

However, the approach and understanding of this greater existence varies according to each individual's personality and circumstances, resulting in countless names for it, such as Allah, Yahweh, Tathagata, Heaven, and many more. Yet, ultimately, our belief is that they are all one. We recognize that we, as humans, are all imperfect and humbly respect the religions of others without asserting the absolute superiority of our own. If there are lessons to be learned from other religions, we humbly seek to learn from them and work together to create a richer and more universal spirituality. In this process, there is no discrimination between established religions, emerging religions, or “religions within irreligion.”

(Year 48 of Showa [1973])