Some words about Tenkō Nishida (Tenkō-san), a “Buddhist Franciscan”, by Anesaki Masaharu

Tenkō Nishida (Tenkō-san)

From “Religious Agitation and the Social Problem”, chapter 4 of “The religious and social problems of the Orient; four lectures given at the University of California under the auspices of the Earl Foundation, Pacific School of Religion” by Anesaki Masaharu (Macmillan Company, 1924 pp. 66-73)

We have left for consideration to the last a movement which may be called Buddhist Franciscan. Its initiator is Tenkō Nishida, a man who, passing through many experiences of success and failure, finally entered upon a life of humility, nonpossession and service. He was born and grew up a Buddhist. He had once been an industrial contractor; but business failure, due chiefly to the pressure exerted upon him by both creditors and workmen, plunged him into depression and vice. He never ceased, even in the pit of despair, to meditate on the meaning of life, and particularly on the good and evil of the existing economic system. In the depth of failure and agony he decided to renounce everything, his family and his own self, too. For a while he lived like a beggar or hermit, without paying any heed as to how he got fed, and still he was able somehow to keep alive. One day all he had to eat were some grains of rice strewn on the street which he picked up to sustain him. Like a flash the idea then came to him, that man lives not because he deserves to by his own merit but by the gift of Nature, and that what he deemed to belong to him was not in fact his own, but a free gift of grace. Changing his course, he began to serve a friend’s family. He did menial work and demanded no more in return but just a bare living. Thereupon he was almost amazed to realize the profoundly edifying effect of his humble service upon himself as well as upon the whole household of his friend, including its servants, for his life inspired the whole circle with a bountiful spirit of zeal in mutual service.

This experience, together with his meditation in solitude, accomplished a revolutionary conversion in his spirit and life, and ever since he has continued to live up to his principles of nonpossession and service, going about from one place to another. He does not know how to name his religion or principles, or his God, nor does he try to formulate his ideas. But he shows his Buddhist heritage by often naming the final haven of his life the “Universal Light,” the Source of all being, the Giver of grace. His life of humility is in itself proof of his faith in the Light, and he admonishes his fellows to live the life of service to all fellow beings, and therefore to the Light. Thereby he combines in his life and faith the parts or offices of both Mary and Martha. His religion can be formulated, of course, in one and another of many ways. One of his fellows has done it in Buddhist terms. But it is better seen in his own life, and many of those now following his example are those who came and saw him and were thus persuaded to adopt his way of living.

Instead of continuing to describe his life, however, let us now quote some passages from his discourses.[1]

He says: 

When you review the life of Buddha or Christ, or any other sage or founder of religion, you cannot but be struck by their common conviction that life is secure without possessions. You would say that security without property in the world of modern civilization is a mere Utopian idea; but you think that, simply because you have little faith in the Universal Light.

The life of my fellows is a living testimony in its favor, and I am convinced of the truth of my principle that the desire for possession is the root of all evil.

First, renounce everything, either property or claim. Accumulate nothing for tomorrow. Be ready at any moment to renounce even your life. In this way you will find an unspeakable satisfaction. . . . All of us feel so who have become emancipated from the desire for possession. Heaven and earth, mountains and streams, all are Buddha Himself. It does not matter who does or does not possess this or that. All belongs to all. The whole cosmos is a totality, subject to neither increase nor decrease. When I have realized this is so, I have seen the Universal Light face to face.

Another passage speaks of humility.

Buddha left his royal palace and went about alms-begging. Christ washed the feet of his disciples. Laotze, St. Francis, Tosui,[2] and many other spiritual leaders lived the life of humility (each in his own way).
 Humility embraces everything.
 Humility may be compared to the earth, which is the mother of all.
 Humility bears all and gives life to all.

Destruction begins its work in everyone who takes pride in his own achievements, because the desire for achievement implies possession and monopoly.

When you probe the matter to the depths, all the conflicts of human life are rooted in egoism.

Renounce your own interests and serve others, in penitence, the penitence that realizes the root of all evil and sin is in yourself.

So train yourself that you can serve anybody in any way, when requested; and therein polish your own soul to a lustre.

This is humility and the beginning of the life of true fellowship.

Nishida’s reference to St. Francis recalls a noteworthy point. We spoke of a member of his fellowship emulating the life of the Seraphic Saint; and everyone can easily see how the mind of a sincere Buddhist can find in Francis a soul wonderfully congenial to him. In fact Nishida had started his new life quite on lines of his own, even apart from his Buddhist heritage, but later some of his sympathizers and admirers, among whom was an English lady, called his attention to Francis, and now this leader finds himself in a close spiritual fellowship with the saint who served the lepers and preached to the little birds. But the sympathy is more than personal and Platonic, because along with his life of service, Nishida is now taking up the practical question of organization, and has come to believe his task to be how to extend the principle of the Franciscan Tertiary Order to the whole of society. The immediate issue in his judgment is to reform the economic life of modern society in accordance with the principles of service and nonpossession. Nishida, who was once a middleman in business, seems to have very considerable organizing talent, and how his operation of a mine which he started a few years ago will turn out is a matter of keen interest to all observers. Some of his fellows have also organized factories, somewhat along the line of coöperative societies. They insist on nonpossession and regard these properties as mandates entrusted to them for the service of mankind. We cannot tell at present what more will come of this movement, but we can say now that there is something fresh and invigorating in it, that the movement does represent a common life of faith and love in its nascent state. It remains to be seen, whether Nishida and Toyohiko Kagawa, referred to above, and other leaders of these new movements may get together in a working alliance, and how great an influence they will exert upon the religious and social movements of the future.

The catholicity of Mr. Nishida and his affinity for essential Christianity were both strikingly illustrated recently (March, 1923), when he visited Hachiman, a small town in Omi Province, where the Omi Christian Mission is located. He surprised his hearers by declaring at the beginning of his first public address that he had for eighteen years desired to visit Hachiman, not only because a schoolmate lived there, but because he wished to meet the American founder of Omi Mission and see his work. Then he said, “I do not feel that I can tell you people of Hachiman anything, but that I have much to learn. You do not need my help since you already have Omi Mission here!”

At the end of his address Mr. Nishida made his way straight through the crowd and introduced himself to the founder, asking for an interview. The following day he visited all parts of the Mission—the architectural and mercantile offices, the student home, the tuberculosis sanitarium, the Galilee Maru on the Lake, and the homes of the members of the Mission groups who number about ninety Japanese and ten Americans. In his address to them he spoke to this effect: “In twenty-one years of following ‘the Way of Penitence’ I have not had such a happy day. For here I have found in practice, by a large and happy group, what I have dreamed of and advocated: religion as the dynamic of everyday life; industry and self-support and social service all happily united; men and women of various nationalities living happily together on terms of equality. And I have found one thing quite beyond my own experience—how property can be made the instrument of spiritual living and service, instead of a hindrance to them.”

The sincerity of this tribute was evidenced a few days later by Mr. Nishida’s bringing his only son to be trained in the principles and practices of the Mission.

Other instances of the life that attempts to be an expression of humility might be cited, but these will suffice for our present purpose. They enable us to discern the birth—out of the deep sub-soil, apart from religious systems and denominations—and the growth of the religious soul. Birth cannot be without travail, and travail is often accompanied by groaning, agony, and bewilderment. On the other hand, however, new life is arising that will achieve some growth with age. The idea of humility and nonpossession as related above may be too extreme, but we must recognize therein a strong driving power for making a new start in idea and practice, in belief and life. At any rate, in all these movements ranging between the two poles as described, a distrust of existing religious organizations, Christianity not excepted, is combined with a dissatisfaction with the present social structure, especially the industrial régime. All this proves that there is a close connection between the religious and the social troubles of today.

Seen thus, the religious agitation of the Orient presents an interesting phase. The whole situation may be summarized figuratively in this way: There stand in a forest the old giant trees of Buddhism, Hinduism, Confucianism, but they are showing signs of decay. Their gigantic trunks may be rotten in the pith. Beside them there is another tree which has been transplanted, Christianity, which has not struck its roots deep enough to show a real vitality. The climate is warm and the air heavy and humid, and grasses and mushrooms grow abundantly, doubtless destined to die. But besides these passing fungoid growths, young green trees are seen in bud among the overgrowth. Some of them derive their life from the roots of the old trees probably and others from new seeds. No one can tell whether any of these will achieve vigorous growth and finally displace the old trees and succeed in perpetuating the time-honored forest. Trees and grasses grow and die, but there is always Life, and Life lives by Love.

NOTES

[1] From “The Life of Penitence” (Zange no Seikatsu), a collection of his discourses, Tokyo, 1921), pp. 137, 190, etc. [An English translation can be read HERE and his community’s “Five Prayers of Ittōen” can be read HERE]

[2] A Buddhist monk who, on giving up the dignity of an abbot, lived among beggars.