Where Is the Living Amida-sama Present? [生きた阿彌陀樣は何處に御座るか] by Itō Shōshin [伊藤證信] (1937)
What follows is a fascinating text published in 1937, one that is, by turns, powerfully insightful and creatively provocative in its free-religious spiritual implications (particularly in Part One), and also disturbing in its nationalist, religio-political implications (particularly in Part Two), written, as it was, at the height Imperial Japan’s ideological use of the Shintō to produce what we know as “State Shintō” [国家神道 or 國家神道]. In State Shintō the state exercised complete control over shrine finances and training programmes for priests in order strongly to encourage Shintō practices that emphasised the Emperor as a divine political and spiritual being. So, when trying to understand this text, we must proceed very carefully indeed. Caution should also be exercised in connection with my draft translation which is undoubtedly flawed in many, many ways. As always, if there are any native Japanese readers out there willing to read this Meiji-era text and offer up corrections, I’d be profoundly grateful. I’m only doing this work with the limited tools and linited skills I have, in order to encourage those with the real tools and skills to dive in and do this properly . . . there’s a real gold-mine of powerful and creative, free-religious texts to be discovered in this period of Japanese religion . . .
But, be that as it may, given the deeply disturbing pre-Pacific War nationalist background of this text, why have I taken many hours trying to produce as good a first draft translation of it as is possible? Well, there are a number of reasons.
The first is that it is by Itō Shōshin [伊藤證信], whose religious community called the Muga-en [無我苑發行], the “Garden of Selflessness”, was the first to join Imaoka Shin’ichirō-sensei’s post-war Japan Free Religion Association (日本自由宗教連盟) along with the Universalist Church (同仁教会). It is clear that Itō Shōshin’s “Selfless Love Movement” [無我愛運動の發端] was a free-religious body and, should you wish, you can read a bit about him, and it, at these links:
The Origin of the Selfless Love Movement [無我愛運動の發端] (1919) by Itō Shōshin [伊藤證信]
This fact makes me ask whether the way this text seeks to honour the Emperor—which, as you will see in Part Two of Itō Shōshin’s book, connects him with both Amida Buddha and Amaterasu Ōmikami—is not, at heart, being driven by the ideology of State Shintō, but by a different, genuinely free-religious/spiritual motive, even if this was a motive being naively employed by Itō Shōshin who was, clearly, a kind of idealist, and who, perhaps, couldn’t see how what he was doing would, in the end, not contribute to the creation of the kind of inclusive free-religion and non-violent Japan he clearly believed in, but to an incredibly violent and repressive form of State Religion and Emperor-system fascism (天皇制ファシズム)? Alas, many otherwise liberal religious idealists have made similar mistakes in different times and contexts . . .
Naturally, I realise I may be wholly wrong here—if any State Shintō experts ever read this, please jump in and help me out—but the possibility that what I suggest above might be the case, emerges when one reads Itō Shōshin’s essay AFTER reading the two essays by Imaoka Shin’ichirō on Shintō, the translations of which I have just finished revising, namely: “Reconsidering Mason’s Shintō” [1966] & “The Image of the Shintō Shrine as Drawn by a Free Religionist” [1980].
Between 1932 and 1940, precisely the period when Itō Shōshin is writing his text, Imaoka-sensei was collaborating with the American journalist J. W. T. Mason in a study of Shintō that began to offer a way of connecting it with the Emperor that was genuinely democratic and spiritual rather than fascistic and political. It’s also important to realise that Mason’s two books which came out of this research, “The Meaning of Shinto (神道の本義) and “The Spirit of Shinto Mythology” (神道神話の精神) were translated by Imaoka-sensei and published in Japan in 1933 and 1940 respectively, which means Itō Shōshin could have the first of them before writing his own text. Also remember that Imaoka-sensei certainly knew Itō Shōshin and his community after the war so, given the extensive liberal religious networking Imaoka-sensei was involved in during the pre-war period, it is not absolutely impossible—and maybe is even highly likely—that Itō Shōshin had some personal communication with both Mason and Imaoka-sensei during the writing of his own text. But, at the moment, this is mere conjecture on my (poorly informed) part.
But, in all cases, before you read Itō Shōshin’s text below, please, please, please read Imaoka-sensei’s two essays “Reconsidering Mason’s Shintō” [1966] & “The Image of the Shintō Shrine as Drawn by a Free Religionist” [1980]. With them firmly in mind, it may be that Itō Shōshin’s text will begin to appear less like a wholly narrow, nationalist take on Shintō and more as a, perhaps naive, attempt at pushing the State Shintō project in a very, very different direction from the way it eventually went . . .
—o0o—
Where Is the Living Amida-sama Present? [生きた阿彌陀樣は何處に御座るか]
Written by Itō Shōshin [伊藤證信]
Published by the Muga-en [無我苑發行]
The Japanese text can be read at this link
CONTENTS
Preface [はしがき]
1. Troubled by the fact that one cannot reverently worship the Amida-sama [阿彌陀樣] of the household altar [佛壇] or temple [御寺] with gratitude
2. On the Existence of Amida-sama and the Signs of His Help [二、阿彌陀樣の存在と其のお助けの徴し]
3. Liberation from the Anxieties and Torments of Human Life [人生に於ける不安と惱みからの解脫]
4. The Power of Experience Is None Other Than the Blessing of Great Nature [經驗の力は卽ち大自然の恩惠である]
5. Great Nature Is None Other Than Amida Nyorai [大自然は卽ち阿彌陀如來である]
6. The Personal Nature of Great Nature and Human Effort [大自然の人格性と人間の努力]
7. The Root of All Human Suffering is Petty Egoism [人間一切の惱みの原因は小さな利己主義である]
8. Awakening to the Unity of Self and Others Through Experience, and the Salvation by Amida Buddha [經驗によれる自他一體の悟りと、阿彌陀佛の救濟]
— Part 2 —
9. A Life of Service Rooted in the View of the Unity of Self and Others Becomes, in Time, a Life of Loyalty to One’s Sovereign and Country [自他一體觀に立てる奉公生活は、やがて君國に對する忠誠の生活となる]
10. The Chinese and Japanese Translations of the Term Amida Buddha [阿彌陀佛の語の漢譯と日本譯]
11. Amaterasu Ōmikami and Amida Buddha [天照大御神と阿彌陀佛]
12. The Imperial House as Descendants of Amaterasu Ōmikami, and Śākyamuni as the Manifestation of Amida Buddha [天照大御神の御子孫としての我が皇室と、阿彌陀佛の化身としての釋尊]
13. How the Buddhism Transmitted from the Lost Nation of Kapilavastu Benefits Our Eternal Nation [亡國カピラ傳來の佛教が、天壤無窮の我國を裨益するの理由如何]
14. Śākyamuni’s Renunciation and Prince Shōtoku’s Secular Path [釋尊出家の動機と聖德太子在俗の御活動]
15. The Question of the Honzon That Japanese Buddhists Ought to Worship Morning and Evening [日本佛教徒の日夕禮拜すべき本尊の問題]
16. The Question of Whether Personal Consciousness Continues After Death [一六、死後、個人意識、存續非存續の問題]
17. The Natural Desire of the Japanese Concerning the Whereabouts of the Soul After Death [一七、死後靈魂の去就に關する日本人當然の要望]
Preface [はしがき]
One night, the author happened to meet and converse with a certain follower of the [Shinshū] sect [眞宗門徒]. The conversation chanced to turn to questions of faith. Upon hearing him out, it became clear that he had grown dissatisfied with the established doctrines of [Shinshū], and had come to entertain fundamental doubts concerning the true form of Amida Butsu [阿弥陀佛] and the location of the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss [極樂淨土], thereby experiencing profound unease in his present life.
The author, perceiving that he was a rare and genuinely sincere seeker of the Way in this day and age, responded freely and without the least reservation, pouring out his own convictions in answer to the questions posed. Both speaker and listener became so deeply absorbed in their mutual inspiration and rich joy in the Dharma that they lost all sense of the passing of the night.
Setting aside any digressions for another day, when the time came for them to part, the man requested the author to write down the contents of the evening's dialogue for future reference. The author readily consented. Upon completing the draft, he brought it to show the man, who, upon reading it, cried out with delight. He said: “It would be a pity to leave this buried in a drawer as it is. Would it not be better to have it printed and shared with friends and acquaintances, urging them to read it and share in the same joy?” A mutual friend standing nearby also read it and greatly approved, saying: “This book meets the religious needs of the age. It ought to be offered more broadly to the general reading public at a set price.” He urged this strongly.
At last, moved by this friend’s encouragement, the author agreed to publish and distribute broadly the remaining copies of the printed edition, after first presenting some to the man’s acquaintances. Such is the origin of this book’s publication.
Although the original occasion was a dialogue with a Shinshū follower, the meaning and content of this work naturally accord with the faith of both established and emerging religious denominations alike. It is the author’s sincere hope that each reader will take these thoughts to heart and contemplate the intent of this book with regard to their own denominational faith.
17 February, Shōwa 12 (1937)
At the Tokyo branch of the Muga-en [無我苑]
The Author [著者]
First Part [上篇]
1. Troubled by the fact that one cannot reverently worship the Amida-sama [阿彌陀樣] of the household altar [佛壇] or temple [御寺] with gratitude
A [Itō Shōshin]: You are always devoutly worshipping Amida-sama, and that’s indeed a most admirable thing. In this world, there are many people living a lonely life without having anything to worship or anything to believe in—no, the great majority are precisely such people—so I think you are truly fortunate, and indeed a person of dignity and worth.
B [Troubled Shinshū Believer]: Thank you very much. But, you know, it’s strange these days. It was not like this before, but recently—without any clear beginning—it has gradually come to be like this, and in truth, I’m somewhat troubled. I still feel sorrow as I did before and reflect on my sins, but somehow, I can no longer make sense of anything.
A: What are you saying—how has it become strange?
B: It’s shameful and hardly worth telling, but please listen, just for reference. These days, even when I sit like this before the household altar [佛壇 butsudan] and worship Amida-sama, I don’t feel even the slightest sense of gratitude. In the past, somehow or other, I felt that this Amida-sama would save me, this wretched fellow that I am—precisely because it is Amida-sama. Whether in sorrow or in loneliness, each time I recalled Amida-sama’s salvation, I tearfully recited the nenbutsu [念佛, Namu Amida Butsu, i.e. “I take refuge in Amida Buddha”] in gratitude and thanksgiving, and both sorrow and loneliness would melt away, and I would simply be filled with joyful reverence. But these days, I can no longer simply and straightforwardly feel that way and rejoice.
A: Since about when has it become like that? Was there any particular cause?
B: Yes, indeed. I cannot clearly remember, but I believe that from about two or three years ago, such feelings gradually began to arise. I cannot point to any specific cause, but I remember one occasion when I overheard a certain young priest, who, in a casual conversation, said to someone: “There’s no way a painted or wooden image inside a household altar like this could save us. Unless we encounter a more living Amida-sama, it’s no good.” When I heard that, I strongly felt, “Ah, that’s right. I feel the same way.” Since then, the Amida-sama inside the household altar has come to feel increasingly unreliable. But even so, I don’t know where a more living Amida-sama might be found, and so I’ve no choice but to continue worshipping the household altar. Because I’ve no choice, I keep doing it, but to be honest, these days, I don’t even feel the same kind of longing I have as when I look at a photo of my parents. It’s unbearably lonely. What should I do?
A: Then, until two or three years ago, did you really believe that the wooden statue in the household altar could save you?
B: Now that you ask me directly like that, I cannot say with certainty that I truly believed it, but somehow or other, I would open the altar, kneel in front of it, put my hands together, and worship—and as I gazed at that solemn and serene statue, I would forget everything else and feel as if I were melting into it. But now, there is a kind of barrier, and I can no longer feel that way.
A: What about the Buddha at the temple? Or the Amida-sama at the head temple [御本山]?
B: Previously, even more than the Buddha in my own home, I found the Buddha at the temple deeply moving. Since I only occasionally made pilgrimages, there was also the feeling of novelty. I could hardly ever visit the head temple, so it felt even more precious—and whenever I sat before the portrait of the founding master [御開山樣], tears of emotion would stream down my cheeks as a matter of course. Even now, when I make the pilgrimage to Kyoto once a year, I do feel a certain nostalgia, but it’s no longer the same as before. It feels sorrowful and pitiful, but there’s nothing I can do.
2. On the Existence of Amida-sama and the Signs of His Help [二、阿彌陀樣の存在と其のお助けの徴し]
A: Then, do you now think that Amida-sama is no longer present anywhere, and accordingly, do you feel that you no longer experience anything of His help at all?
B: It doesn’t quite seem to be so. Long ago, before I knew either the Buddha or the Dharma, I lived each day feeling such anxiety that it was unbearable. I constantly felt unnerved and as if something was about to attack me. But at the same time, the idea of dying was even more frightening, and when I thought about where I would go after death, it felt like utter darkness. Looking back now, when I recall those days, a chill runs down my spine and I tremble, so oppressive was that time. In contrast, now I no longer feel any such anxiety or distress. So then, I must have been helped, mustn’t I? If I have indeed been helped, then Amida-sama must surely be present somewhere. I do not doubt that. It is just that the Amida-sama in the household altar or in the temple no longer feels as precious to me as He once did. Even so, I feel lonely and unfulfilled, so if I could somehow recover that simple, honest feeling I had in the past, I’d very much like to regain it.
A: I see. I now clearly understand how you are feeling. In fact, I have walked the same path as you, and I am now able to revere Amida-sama with a far more vivid and living sense than before. When I saw you kneeling before the Buddha and worshipping earlier, I thought to myself, “You must be feeling the same as I do,” and I rejoiced, thinking it was truly admirable. But when you said that it wasn’t so, I suspected as much, and as I listened further, all the details gradually became clear to me. But you cannot return to the state of heart you once had. That’s because your spiritual condition has advanced since then. You cannot go backwards, nor is there any need to. You should just keep progressing forward. As you advance, you’ll find that it’s not a lonely place, nor an uncertain one. Rather, you will come to reverence a truly living Amida-sama completely different from before.
3. Liberation from the Anxieties and Torments of Human Life [人生に於ける不安と惱みからの解脫]
B: Then, please teach me how I too might come to revere that living Amida-sama…
A: A moment ago, you said that you used to feel such anxiety, both in living and in dying, that it was unbearable—but that now, you no longer feel any such anxiety or torment. Whose doing do you think that is? No, before that, let me ask: why was it that you once felt such unbearable anxiety about both living and dying?
B: Well… now, even if I try to put myself back in that frame of mind, I simply can’t. Back then, I felt that nothing was secure, everything was unstable and unreliable, and there was nothing I could depend upon—it was unbearable. I felt like I might fall ill at any moment. I feared people would look down on me. I thought my friends might betray me. I even feared I might lose my job tomorrow. I was completely unnerved and in a mentally exhausted state of mind [神經衰弱的な氣分]. It was strange, really.
A: And now, you no longer feel that way at all? But what you feared wasn’t wrong, was it? Isn’t it true that we could become ill at any time? And don’t we never know when someone might look down upon us, or when we might suddenly be dismissed and lose our job? That’s still true, isn’t it?
B: Yes, that’s true. And yet, strangely, I no longer feel the same kind of anxiety. In the past, if I were to concern myself with all those things one after another, I could not feel truly alive. But now, I simply don’t worry about them. Of course, I could still fall ill at any time—but now, I don’t think, “What will I do if I get sick?” If I fall ill, I will deal with it then, however I can. If I can’t do anything about it, then so be it. In that way, I have made peace, and I no longer worry. I don’t know when I might be dismissed—but if I am, then I am. At that time, I will find some way to deal with it. So I remain calm. In the past, I worried constantly about being dismissed and couldn’t concentrate on work. Because of that, I felt even more like I was about to be let go. And so I became increasingly unable to focus on my job—and in the end, I really was dismissed. That was how it went. But now, I think: if I’m dismissed, so be it. When that happens, I’ll deal with it. Because I stay calm, I’m able to work well. Because I work well, I’m not easily dismissed—so things go better. As for illness, in the past I would worry, “What will I do if I get sick?” and that anxiety would keep me up at night. Because I didn’t sleep, my body felt heavy the next day. Then I would think, “I must really be getting sick,” and worry even more. I still couldn’t sleep. My body felt heavier and heavier. Eventually, I couldn’t even get out of bed—that was how it went. But now, I think: if I get sick, then I get sick. I’ll do whatever I can at the time. Because I remain calm, I can sleep well at night. Because I sleep well night after night, I wake up in the morning feeling good. Because I feel good, I become even more calm and pour myself into my work. And so I sleep even better at night, and in the morning feel even better still. That’s how it is now. If only now I could revere Amida-sama with the same heartfelt gratitude—there would be nothing more to ask. But in that one regard, things have become strangely the opposite of how they once were, and it troubles me.
4. The Power of Experience Is None Other Than the Blessing of Great Nature [經驗の力は卽ち大自然の恩惠である]
A: Why is it, then, that illness and unemployment—things which once caused you such anxiety—no longer weigh on your mind?
B: Well, I suppose it's because, through long years of experience, I’ve come to realise—without even noticing exactly when—that not only is there no use in worrying about such things, but that worrying actually makes them worse. Whether it’s illness or unemployment, or any of the various calamities of human life, these aren’t matters that can be controlled by mere personal anxiety. They aren’t so simple that human worry or cleverness can resolve them. They’re great and complex workings of Great Nature [大自然], and I’ve come to see that there is nothing to do but to stop meddling with human contrivances and entrust things wholly to the workings of Great Nature.
A: If one simply says that and leaves it there, then this might appear over simplified and sweeping [大ざつぱ], but it’s undeniable that through your long experience you’ve managed to emerge from the anxious life you once led. However, this “long experience” is not limited to just your own lifetime. I think we must understand it to include inherited traits and dispositions from your ancestors. For things like heredity and disposition can ultimately be regarded as the accumulated experience of one’s forebears—indeed, from the time of primitive organisms onward. Now, experience means receiving stimuli from the surrounding world and adjusting one’s own responses accordingly. So to say that you’ve been liberated from life’s anxieties through experience is another way of saying that you have been saved by all the stimuli that have come from your surroundings. In this sense, I think it is fair to say that it’s thanks to Great Nature.
B: The blessing of Great Nature—yes, that must certainly be it. Then, does that mean we no longer have any need for Amida-sama?
A: No, not at all. The blessing of Great Nature is itself the blessing of Amida-sama.
5. Great Nature Is None Other Than Amida Nyorai [大自然は卽ち阿彌陀如來である]
B: Please wait a moment. I can’t quite understand what you mean when you say that the blessing of Great Nature is none other than the blessing of Amida-sama. I have heard that Amida-sama is a body of enlightenment [覺體] full of compassion [慈悲] and wisdom [智慧], possessing infinite light [光明無量] and infinite life [壽命無量]. But in Great Nature, there’s light, yes, but also darkness; there’s longevity, but also short life; there’s compassion, but also cruelty; there’s wisdom, but also folly. Everything in this world, all of it, is contained within Great Nature. So surely, there’s a great difference between Amida-sama and Great Nature, isn’t there?
A: At first glance, it may seem that Amida-sama and Great Nature are very different—but if you listen carefully and reflect, you’ll see that this isn’t the case. You’ll come to understand clearly that the two are, in fact, entirely the same [絶対的な一致を強調].
B: Then please explain that to me.
A: A moment ago, you said that you had come to no longer feel anxious over trivial matters thanks to long years of experience—and that this was entirely due to the blessing of Great Nature. That, you understood well, didn’t you?
B: Yes, I understood that well.
A: Then let me ask: is this Great Nature made up only of things you like? Or are there also things you dislike?
B: Of course there are things I dislike. In fact, there may even be more things I dislike than things I like.
A: Then would you say that the help you received from Great Nature came from the things you liked—or from the things you disliked?
B: Now that I think about it, it must be both. If the world were made up only of things I liked, life might be pleasant, but it would become too easygoing and dull—and we would probably drift through our days without ever becoming deep or wise human beings. But on the other hand, if only unpleasant and painful things happened from morning to night, we would not be able to bear it and would be utterly crushed. When things we like and things we dislike come upon us alternately—giving us joy and suffering—they let us taste the sweetness and bitterness of life. That becomes our experience, and through it we are saved. That I no longer feel anxious, resentful, or tormented by trivial matters as I once did—this, ultimately, is all thanks to that benevolent grace [御蔭で御座います].
A: So then, because Great Nature includes both sweet and bitter elements, it enables us to truly understand both—and that’s what allows us to be at peace. In other words, in order truly to bring us peace and fundamentally save us, it cannot be only bitterness, but it also cannot be only sweetness. The two must come together in alternation, giving us experience. That’s why not only the sweet things, but the bitter ones as well, are to be deeply appreciated. As you said, within Great Nature there is light and darkness, longevity and short life, good and evil—all these are contained within it. And all of them provide us with experience, enabling us to find true peace and awakening. They are nothing other than the material through which we are guided and enlightened. So in the end, the whole of Great Nature is the working of great wisdom [大智] that grants us peace and awakening. And because this great wisdom works to save us at the root, it is itself great compassion [大慈悲]. Moreover, since this activity is spatially infinite and temporally eternal, we can indeed say it is none other than Amida Nyorai [阿彌陀如來], the one of infinite light and infinite life [光明無量壽命無量]. Having come this far, I trust you now clearly understand that Amida Nyorai is none other than Great Nature itself.
6. The Personal Nature of Great Nature and Human Effort [大自然の人格性と人間の努力]
B: But Amida-sama is a noble personage [立派なお方] with eyes, ears, hands, and feet like a human being. In contrast, Great Nature is just the formless totality of all phenomena in the universe [森羅萬象], isn’t it? I just can’t grasp how you could say they are one and the same.
A: The confusion comes from this: when you hear “Amida-sama,” you immediately think of the wooden statue in the household altar. And when you hear “Great Nature,” you think of nothing but mountains, rivers, grasses, and trees—everything except human beings and Buddhas. But true Great Nature is the very body of the Buddha, and the true Buddha is the very mind of Great Nature. So to be helped by Great Nature and to be helped by Amida-sama—in the end, these are the same thing.
B: Still, when I think that I’m simply being helped by Great Nature, I feel like human effort is meaningless and I lose all motivation. But when I think that I’m being helped by Amida-sama, I feel I must offer some proper expression of gratitude and do my part to assist in his compassionate work. The trouble is, I no longer feel the same heartfelt gratitude toward Amida-sama that I once did.
A: That’s because you’ve not yet fully grasped the preciousness and personal nature [人格性] of Great Nature. That’s why you still think of Amida-sama and Great Nature as two separate things. Earlier, I mentioned that your view of nature was a bit too over simplified and sweeping—this is what I meant. You said that illness and unemployment are beyond human worry or cleverness, so we must stop trying to manage them and simply entrust ourselves to the workings of Great Nature. But that view is too over simplified and sweeping. Of course, at present, we cannot completely cure illness by human power alone—but that doesn’t mean human power is of no use. Modern medicine has made remarkable progress. Certain injections have immediate and observable effects, and surgical procedures achieve truly impressive results. Even in connection with the possibility of being made unemployed, a person’s own effort and attitude can make a great difference. And surely you’re aware that unemployment relief is a major part of modern social work. Thanks to the progress of modern science, humanity is increasingly overcoming disasters and improving its way of life. Just look at the airplane and the radio—these alone show how great a role human ingenuity and effort can play. Of course, human intelligence and willpower are still small compared to the forces of nature. But given infinite time and progress, it is imaginable that someday humans might even be able to move the cosmos itself at will (宇市全體を己が心の儘に動かす). At the very least, we should aim toward such a grand ideal, and from today work to advance human life. Yet you say that because Great Nature cannot be managed by mere human worry or ingenuity, we must simply leave everything to its course. If that’s not too over simplified and sweeping, what is? This reflects a significant underestimation of both human potential and the deeper workings of Great Nature.
B: But if you say things like that, I’ll start worrying again about illness, unemployment, and death. I’ll become anxious and tormented all over again. Yet I simply cannot bear to go back to that old life of petty worries. Even if I tried to return to such a troubled state, I couldn’t. That kind of foolish anxiety just won’t arise in me anymore, no matter what. So no matter what anyone says, I can do nothing but entrust myself to Great Nature and abide in peace.
A: Then what do you do when you fall ill? Do you avoid seeing a doctor or taking medicine? And if your children overeat, catch a cold, or try to skip school out of laziness—do you leave them be, saying it’s all just the course of Great Nature, and that human effort is useless?
B: No, of course not. I take health very seriously—more than most people, in fact. Whether it’s myself or my children, if we catch even a slight cold, I immediately have a doctor see us and take medicine as needed. I also believe education is very important, so I never let my children skip school. If they show even the slightest laziness, I scold them sharply and make them study.
A: There you are. When you pay close attention to health and care deeply about education, that effort will certainly have an effect.
B: Yes, it does. That’s why I intend from now on to be all the more attentive in various areas and do my part to improve our way of life.
7. The Root of All Human Suffering is Petty Egoism [人間一切の惱みの原因は小さな利己主義である]
A: Even with all that care and ingenuity you’re putting into things, do you really feel no anxiety or inner torment?
B: Far from anxiety— far from torment—it’s my greatest joy, more than anything else.
A: Then why was it, long ago, that you were so troubled by illness, unemployment, and death, saying you were overwhelmed with anxiety?
B: In short, I was needlessly making myself suffer. And while doing so, I was also neglecting my health and disregarding my duties—shortening my own life, really. Looking back now, I see I’d been jamming my head into a narrow, confined space. To put it plainly—I was petty. My spirit was small. I worried only about the visible self. Even now, if I slip into thinking in terms of calculations or start considering my own visible gain, various things begin to trouble me, and I lose my sense of direction. At such times, I remind myself to forget about myself, to put aside all thought of personal gain, and simply follow what is right. If it benefits everyone, then that’s the best course. Even if what I do is small, I try to keep a large heart. When I do that, all anxiety vanishes, strength wells up from somewhere, and I feel reliable and capable of doing anything.
A: That’s it—what you just said is exactly the key. As long as one thinks only of the visible self, everything inevitably darkens. Why? Because the self does not exist in isolation—we were born thanks to everyone, and we live thanks to everyone. Therefore, we do not exist for our own sake alone, but for the sake of everyone. Accordingly, what we think, say, and do each day must all be for the sake of others. If one errs in this and thinks only of oneself—acts for one’s own benefit—then one falls into fantasies and delusions that do not match reality. No wonder confusion sets in, and eventually one ends up in complete darkness. That you now no longer suffer needlessly, that you can entrust all things to nature [自然] and rest peacefully—this is because you have cast off the mindset that once tried to isolate yourself from Great Nature [大自然] and Great Society [大社會], to make yourself stand against them and handle your fate alone. Instead, you now treat yourself as fundamentally connected with Great Nature. What was originally a continuous whole [一つながり]—you arbitrarily separated in your mind, cut yourself off, made yourself lonely, and then agonised over what to do with that isolated self. That contradiction is inherently unbearable. And trying to force that contradiction through creates the most intense kind of suffering. That was the nature of your past anguish. Now that you have escaped from that deep suffering, you are truly a fortunate person. There’s no knowing how many people in the world still remain trapped in that painful state. Indeed, the majority of humankind—especially those who have mistakenly adopted the egoistic individualism of the West [西洋の個人主義自我主義] and suffered from its harmful effects—are still ensnared in that suffering. I can only continue to hope and pray that such people may soon break free from that miserable condition.
8. Awakening to the Unity of Self and Others Through Experience, and the Salvation by Amida Buddha [經驗によれる自他一體の悟りと、阿彌陀佛の救濟]
B: I too truly feel that this is a deliverance of life [命びろひ], and something profoundly precious. But how exactly does this relate to the help of Amida-sama?
A: That very thing is none other than the help of Amida-sama. Amida-sama transforms into various lights and colours, and enters us through our eyes—becoming our experience, opening our wisdom. Amida-sama also becomes various sounds, and enters us through our ears—again becoming our experience, and opening our wisdom. Further still, Amida-sama becomes various fragrances, flavours, tactile sensations, and thoughts, entering us through our nose, mouth, body, and mind—and in doing so, opens our wisdom. In this way, all colours, sounds, scents, tastes, sensations, lights, and movements are Amida-sama’s very body. Embraced within that body at all times, day and night, our spirits are nurtured. Thus, experience [經驗] is nothing other than the nurturing [御育て] given by Amida-sama. You, I, and all human beings—in fact, all living things—have been nurtured by Amida-sama since the moment of our birth—no, since the very beginning of the universe. That you now say you no longer worry anxiously and pointlessly about the small matters that once troubled you—this is the sign that Amida-sama’s nurturing is beginning to manifest its effect upon your soul. Formerly, you focused only on the small self before your eyes, cutting yourself off from everything else and even viewing all else as hostile—trying to carve out your destiny by your own strength. And when it did not go as you wished, you suffered. But as I said before, that was a deep delusion, contrary to the truth. Through long years of experience—of hearing, seeing, feeling, and knowing—which is nothing other than Amida-sama’s nurturing, that delusion has now been dispelled. You have entrusted everything to Amida-sama. Now, Great Nature is no longer other to you—still less is it your enemy. Society, nation, mountain, river, heaven, and earth—all are now joined with you, one with you. No—in truth they were always one with you. But in the past, you did not know this. You mistakenly thought them separate, and lived a lonely life. But now, at last, it has become clear: “I and Amida have never been separate—even now, we are united—and henceforth, there is no fear of ever being parted.” This is the realisation that has brought you profound peace of mind [大安心].
— Part 2 —
B: I see. When I hear you put it that way, it makes complete sense. So then, is it no longer necessary to worship the Amida-sama in the household altar or the temple?
A: Not at all. You yourself said just now that you’re troubled by the fact that you can no longer worship the Amida-sama in the household altar with true gratitude.
B: Yes, I truly am troubled. I sincerely wish I could once more worship Amida-sama with the same heartfelt gratitude and reverence as I did in the past.
A: But you cannot go back to the way things were—and there is no need to. Until two or three years ago, you could worship the wooden statue of Amida-sama with gratitude simply out of old habit. But since then, you have been nurtured by the living Amida-sama that is Great Nature [大自然], stage by stage —and as a result, the wooden Amida-sama has come to feel inadequate to you. That is, in fact, a wonderful thing.
B: Then, what do you suggest I should do?
A: I may sound repetitive, but you do understand clearly now that Great Nature is Amida-sama, don’t you?
B: Yes, I understand that well.
A: Having been helped by that Great Nature Amida-sama, you have been freed from needless and foolish anxiety. In other words, you have let go of the narrow, immediate, small self, and now you handle everything with the thought of it being for the sake of all. Even if the matter is small—say, taking care of your own bodily health—you are no longer acting from a petty mindset like, “What if I die?” or “I’m afraid to lose my life.” Rather, you are acting with the awareness that it is for the sake of everyone. That is because you now firmly believe that your body is no longer your personal possession. It belongs to everyone, to the public, to Great Nature, to Amida-sama. From this belief, matters of property, health, children, family, society, politics, even war—none of these are causes for suffering and distress anymore. They all become sources of joy, expressions of gratitude, and acts of devoted service. You yourself said something to this effect a moment ago.
B: Yes, that’s exactly right.
A: Now then, if we express this idea—that all things are for the sake of devoted service and thanksgiving—in the language of us Japanese, it means that everything is for the sake of loyalty to His Majesty the Emperor [天皇陛下]. It means upholding the eternal destiny of the imperial line, and that this is, in itself, service to the nation and its people.
B: I see. So through the nurturing of Amida-sama, who is none other than Great Nature, I have been freed from petty attachment to the small self. I now live without anxiety or distress, joyfully and earnestly doing what I can for the sake of everyone. And for us Japanese, that means offering loyal service to His Majesty the Emperor.
A: Exactly so.
B: I think I’ve mostly understood the general idea, but I would like to ask you to explain that final point in more detail.
10. The Chinese and Japanese Translations of the Term Amida Buddha [阿彌陀佛の語の漢譯と日本譯]
A: To help you fully understand this, let me go back and begin again with the meaning of the name Amida Buddha.
B: Yes, please do.
A: The term Amida Buddha is, as you know, originally in Sanskrit. It was translated into Chinese long ago as encompassing two meanings: the Buddha of Infinite Light [無量光覺] and the Buddha of Infinite Life [無量壽覺]. Infinite Light refers to limitless light that illuminates every corner of the world, dispelling all darkness. The fact that this activity continues without interruption from the infinite past to the infinite future—so long as time itself exists—is referred to as Infinite Life. Therefore, Infinite Light is the activity of wisdom, and this activity of wisdom, carried out unceasingly and eternally, becomes the activity of compassion that forever dispels the darkness of ignorance—that is Infinite Life. The term kaku [ 覚 awakening] more precisely refers to a fully awakened person—that is, a complete person of wisdom. Therefore, Amida Buddha ultimately signifies the same reality as what I earlier described as Great Nature [大自然]. Now, people generally think that Great Nature is not a personal being. Therefore, they think it cannot possess activities such as wisdom or compassion; rather, they view it as a blind, mechanical, cold and chaotic aggregate that changes and perishes according to the laws of cause and effect. But this is a superficial perspective, arrived at without reference to the human soul, and thus it is a non-religious observation. It is not an accurate view of the true nature of things. If, instead, we observe the true nature of the cosmic Great Nature (宇宙大自然) with our human soul as the focal point, we will unmistakably recognise it as an immensely great personality (人格者)—a radiant activity of Light and Life that stirs our soul to awakening, wholly imbued with wisdom and compassion. In Buddhism, this is called Suchness (眞如), Dharma-Nature (法性), Dharma-Body (法身), or Tathāgata (如来). In Christianity, it is God (ゴッド); in Shinto, Kami (神).
B: I often hear that Amida Buddha is translated into Chinese as Infinite Light and Infinite Life, but how would you translate it into Japanese?
A: Now that’s an unexpected question! As I mentioned, Amida Buddha has been rendered into Chinese in various forms—such as Tathāgata of Unimpeded Light Shining in the Ten Directions [盡十方無碍光如來] or Tathāgata of Inconceivable Light [不可思議光如來]. But the question of how to translate this into Japanese hasn’t really been considered much. In the past, Chinese was revered, so that was sufficient. But now that the Japanese spirit is rising and our self-awareness as an independent nation is growing, I think it’s quite natural that we seek Japanese renderings rather than being satisfied with only Chinese ones. My view is this: if there is something in a foreign land that doesn’t exist in Japan, then naturally there won’t be a corresponding Japanese name for it. In that case, we either borrow the foreign name or coin a new Japanese term. But if something equivalent does exist in Japan, then of course there will be an existing Japanese name for it, and we ought to use that as the translation. Now, does something equivalent to the Sanskrit Amida Buddha exist in Japan? I would say that without question, the most accurate equivalent is Amaterasu Ōmikami [天照大御神]. Thus, I cannot help but feel that Amaterasu Ōmikami is the most fitting Japanese translation of Amida Buddha. Why? Because Amaterasu means she who illuminates heaven and earth, which is exactly the same in meaning as Infinite Light. The characters “Ō” [大] and “mi” [御] are both honorifics, and kami [神 god] is derived from the word kagami (鑑み mirror), which in turn comes from the verb kagamiru [鑑みる]—meaning “to reflect,” or “to perceive as in a mirror.” This refers to wisdom. Wisdom is not the same as knowledge. It is not something acquired through logic or abstract reasoning. It is intuitive and direct—like seeing an object reflected clearly and all at once in a mirror. That is why we say kagamiru (“to mirror”) and its noun form kagami (“mirror”)—and this was shortened to kami, which was then written using the Chinese character 神. Thus, kami means “a person of wisdom,” which is exactly what Buddha means: an awakened one. Therefore, translating Amida Buddha as Amaterasu Ōmikami is linguistically and conceptually fitting. It’s so self-evident that once you begin thinking seriously about a Japanese translation for Amida Buddha, this should be the first thing that comes to mind. But because no one before seems to have attempted such a translation, this obvious truth has gone unnoticed until now.
B: If that’s the case, then I can accept that Amaterasu Ōmikami corresponds to the Buddha of Infinite Light. But what about the other meaning—Buddha of Infinite Life? Doesn’t that part get left out?
A: Not at all. Why? Because Amaterasu Ōmikami is the great deity who illuminates heaven and earth, and continues to nurture our minds and bodies with light for as long as [we live and] heaven and earth exist—from the beginning without beginning to the end without end. That meaning is clearly present in the name, so the significance of Infinite Life is fully included as well.
11. Amaterasu Ōmikami and Amida Buddha [天照大御神と阿彌陀佛]
B: Amaterasu Ōmikami is, needless to say, the ancestral deity of our imperial household, the kami who established the nation of Japan. But Amida Buddha is said to have been a certain king who renounced the world, became Hōzō Bodhisattva [法藏菩薩 i.e. the name of Amida Buddha in his past life as a seeker of enlightenment], made great vows and undertook practice, attained Buddhahood ten kalpas ago, founded the Land of Ultimate Bliss in the west beyond ten billion Buddha-lands, and now pr"sently dwells there, preaching the Dharma and leading sentient beings from the ten directions to be born in his land. So, while the two names may be similar, are not their essential natures vastly different?
A: True, it is said that Amida Buddha first attained Buddhahood ten kalpas ago, but in reality, he is a Buddha who has existed since the unimaginably distant past known as the “incalculable kalpas of dust-particles” [塵點久遠劫]—in other words, from the very beginning of heaven and earth, just like Amenominakanushi-no-kami [天御中主神]. This Buddha of the remote past repeatedly changes form and appears in various manifestations as different Buddhas. Among them, the Amida Buddha who attained enlightenment as the Hōzō Bodhisattva is regarded as the one with whom we today have the deepest affinity. Also, though it is said that he founded a land in the far west, that land is so vast it has no limits, extending throughout the ten directions. Since his light is infinite and pervades the ten directions, there is no place that is not the Pure Land, and nothing that is not illuminated by the light of Amida Buddha. Now, as for Amaterasu Ōmikami, she is the daughter of Izanagi and Izanami, deities who are in the direct line of descent from Amenominakanushi-no-kami, who appeared at the beginning of heaven and earth. As her name implies, she eternally shines upon all of heaven and earth. When she sent her descendant Ninigi-no-mikoto to this land, she declared: “The Land of Abundant Reeds and Fresh Ears of Rice [葦原の千五百秋の瑞穗の國] is the land over which my descendant shall rule. Go forth and govern it. May the Imperial throne prosper forever, unending as the heavens and the earth.” With this, she bestowed upon him the Three Sacred Treasures. The Land of Abundant Reeds and Fresh Ears of Rice can be interpreted as referring to the entire world at the time. “Unending as the heavens and the earth” signifies the boundless life [無量壽] of the Imperial throne. The Three Sacred Treasures—jewel, mirror, and sword—are said to symbolise compassion, wisdom, and power respectively. To govern this world eternally with these three is the essential destiny passed down from Amenominakanushi-no-kami, through Amaterasu Ōmikami, and down to the present Emperor. Of course, we cannot say that the biography of Amida Buddha as transmitted in India and the deeds of Amaterasu Ōmikami, which form the foundation of our national history, are entirely identical in detail. But in their essential nature, they are remarkably similar. This likely suggests that the same universal truth is being expressed in different forms, each coloured by the particular national character of the culture in which it appears.
12. The Imperial House as Descendants of Amaterasu Ōmikami, and Śākyamuni as the Manifestation of Amida Buddha [天照大御神の御子孫としての我が皇室と、阿彌陀佛の化身としての釋尊]
B: If what you say is true, then Amida-sama and Amaterasu Ōmikami are one and the same—only, the former has a name in the Indian language, and the latter has a name in the Japanese language. That seems to be the only difference. But there is one fundamental difference: I have never heard of any descendants of Amida-sama living somewhere in this world today. On the other hand, the descendants of Amaterasu Ōmikami continue unbroken to this day as our Imperial House, the successive Emperors of Japan. How would you explain this?
A: You’ve struck upon a most significant point. Indeed, it is said that Amida Buddha now abides in the Pure Land of Ultimate Bliss, ten billion Buddha-lands to the west. This corresponds quite closely to Amaterasu Ōmikami dwelling in the High Plain of Heaven [高天原 高天原 Takamagahara]. And while Amaterasu’s direct descendant is none other than His Majesty the present Emperor of Japan, we hear nothing of any descendant of Amida Buddha. Śākyamuni, born into the royal family of Kapilavastu in India, is said to be a manifestation of Amida Buddha. In that respect, he is akin to His Majesty the Emperor as a descendant of Amaterasu Ōmikami. But in many other important respects, they differ completely. First of all, the Kingdom of Kapilavastu was not founded by a descendant of Amida Buddha. It was, compared with our own country—founded by the divine descendant Jimmu, offspring of Amaterasu—a vastly inferior realm. Indeed, during Śākyamuni’s own lifetime, it was easily overthrown by a neighbouring state. It was such a pitiful nation that Śākyamuni, knowing he could not fulfil his ideal of establishing a noble realm befitting a manifestation of Amida Buddha, ultimately abandoned the country. He renounced the royal throne and the royal house, entered the mountains as a monk, and devoted himself to practice. After six years of ascetic practice, he finally established a land of Dharma that embodied his ideal. There, he rose to the position of Dharma-king, worthy of being called a manifestation of Amida Buddha, and for the rest of his life he preached the Dharma and led countless beings to liberation. However, Śākyamuni entered nirvana 2,400 years ago, and is no longer living in this world.
13. How the Buddhism Transmitted from the Lost Nation of Kapilavastu Benefits Our Eternal Nation [亡國カピラ傳來の佛教が、天壤無窮の我國を裨益するの理由如何]
B: Then, if Amida Buddha and Amaterasu Ōmikami are indeed the same being, and if Śākyamuni—as the manifestation of Amida Buddha—has already passed away, and if the country of Kapilavastu, which was his homeland, has also perished, while the Imperial House, as the descendants of Amaterasu Ōmikami, continue to prosper through the generations as living gods [現人神], and the nation ruled by them—Japan—flourishes eternally along with heaven and earth, and we, the people, as the loyal subjects of these successive living gods, live in harmony and devote ourselves wholeheartedly to the service of the nation, then is it not the case that the ideals of Śākyamuni are fully realised in our country and that Buddhism is, in the end, no longer necessary?
A: No, that is not the case. Japan is, by nature, what is called a “land where no dissent is raised” [ことあげせぬ國]—a country that, rather than theorising excessively, has manifested and fulfilled the ideals of the kami and buddhas in actual practice. In other words, ours is a nation in which ideals can be realised in the real world. Thus, from ancient times, our people have focused their energy on practical action and have not invested much effort in the formulation of ideals. As a result, we have learned from countries such as China, India, and the West—lands skilled in refining ideals, mastering learning, and developing theories—and imported such knowledge, which we have studied and used to provide a foundation, explanation, and appreciation for our own practices. This will continue to be essential in the future. Without theory, the significance of practice is unclear; without scholarly understanding, universality cannot be clarified; without developing ideals, one may lose direction. Since the founding of our nation, we have learned from the religions and philosophies of other lands and applied them to our national life—how great that debt is, one can scarcely measure. In particular, Buddhism has played an immense role in the growth and flourishing of our country, and will continue to do so in the future.
B: But India’s Kapilavastu was a fallen nation, and Śākyamuni was the crown prince of that lost realm. How could the teaching of Buddhism—preached by the king of such a perished nation—possibly contribute to the eternal growth and prosperity of our Japan, which is destined to flourish without end, together with heaven and earth? On what grounds can such a claim be made?
A: You seem to be taking quite a different tone now! Are you not a believer in Buddhism? And haven’t you just told me that you sincerely wish to return to a state where you can once more reverently worship Amida-sama before your household altar? Yet now, you suddenly seem to be attacking Buddhism in quite a harsh tone!
B: That’s not what I mean. But as I listen to your explanation, Buddhism starts to sound like something altogether trivial—something that has little to do with us Japanese. And yet, I do still believe in the Dharma, and I do wish to worship Amida-sama with heartfelt reverence. That’s why I’m asking for your guidance in being able to do so.
A: Śākyamuni was born into a status where he ought to have become the king of a nation. No doubt, at first, he must have wanted to build his country into a splendid, ideal realm, and to reign as a wise and noble king who could truly bring happiness to the people. But as I mentioned earlier, the country was not the kind of place that could ever become such a realm. And so, in the end, he left the world, renounced the throne, and entered the spiritual path.
14. Śākyamuni’s Renunciation and Prince Shōtoku’s Secular Path [釋尊出家の動機と聖德太子在俗の御活動]
B: I hate to interrupt, but I’ve always heard that the reason Śākyamuni renounced the world was to escape the Four [四苦] and Eight Sufferings [八苦]—birth, old age, sickness, and death; the pain of parting from loved ones; the pain of encountering those one hates; and the pain of not getting what one desires. I’ve heard he left home out of a desire to be free from those sufferings himself, and to help all beings be free of them too. But the way you describe it, it sounds like he left home because he was disillusioned with the poverty and lack of idealism in his native country. Which is correct?
A: Of course, Śākyamuni was human, so he surely felt the universal sufferings that all people face. So I don’t deny that this was part of what led him to renounce the world. But I can’t believe that that alone was the cause. He must also have had his own distinctive suffering—something unique to himself. I’ve never studied the traditional biographies of the Buddha in detail, so I can’t say how they portray this, but regardless of what later writers recorded, it’s hard to imagine that someone born a crown prince wouldn’t have felt the weight of responsibility. And once he felt that responsibility, it’s only natural he would have wanted to improve his country and bring happiness to his people. But when he looked at the actual state of India, how must he have felt? Surely he was overcome with despair. And recognising that no truly ideal nation could be built in such a reality, he renounced the world, entered the realm of Dharma, and there discovered the land of Amida Buddha—the ideal world he sought. This makes me wonder: what if Śākyamuni had been born in Japan? Would he still have become a renunciant? What do you think?
B: Hmm, maybe he wouldn’t have. That reminds me of our own Prince Shōtoku. He was revered as the “Dharma Lord of Yamato” [和国の法主], a devout believer in Buddhism who propagated its teachings in our land and put it into practice in state affairs. In a sense, he was like a Śākyamuni born into our own Imperial House. But he never renounced the world. He remained secular, and yet lectured on sutras and practised the Dharma from within the palace.
A: You’ve made an excellent point. That’s exactly right. In Japan, as it says in the Imperial Rescript on Education [教育勅語], our Imperial Ancestress Amaterasu Ōmikami founded this land with profound and enduring virtue. Our Imperial House has passed down her divine will through a single unbroken line, and generation after generation of subjects have united in loyalty and filial piety, upholding the brilliant essence of our national polity. The land of Amida Buddha that Śākyamuni discovered within the Dharma world is, here in Japan, already realised in the real world—in concrete form. Therefore, in Japan, one need not renounce the secular world to enter the Dharma. Rather, the Dharma is already being realised in and through the secular. This has been steadily and continuously happening. So all the teachings that Śākyamuni awakened to in the realm of Dharma—and recorded in the sutras—can serve directly as resources to provide theoretical, religious, and philosophical foundations for our Japanese national polity. Of course, since they were preached in India, in the Indian language, and to Indian people, they inevitably bear Indian customs and cultural colouring, which differs from Japanese sensibilities. But if we simply take care to strip away those Indian traits and replace them with a Japanese style and spirit, then the Buddhist scriptures become deeply fruitful resources for cultivating the Japanese national spirit.
15. The Question of the Honzon That Japanese Buddhists Ought to Worship Morning and Evening [日本佛教徒の日夕禮拜すべき本尊の問題]
B: I see—now I feel I truly understand. But then, regarding the Amida-sama [阿彌陀樣] in the household altar [佛壇], how should I think about it? How should I worship?
A: As I said before, Amida Buddha [阿彌陀佛] is the divine character [神格性] of the universe and great nature [宇宙大自然], perfect in compassion and wisdom [悲智圓滿], which Śākyamuni [釋尊] discovered upon entering the world of Dharma. However, the form is carved in the likeness of Śākyamuni, and thus is in the Indian style. This, I believe, is why it no longer quite suits your sensibilities these days. You have already, through long years of experience, come to understand and trust in the great benevolence of Amida Buddha as the divine character of the universe and great nature—in Japanese terms, Amaterasu Ōmikami—and you have entrusted yourself to this, and entered into a life of devoted service. As such, the Amida-sama placed in the altar—who represents that universal Amida in human form—has no longer felt deeply reverent to you. However, you are not Indian—you are Japanese. So as time passed, your true nature began to reveal itself, and gradually you found the Indian-style Amida no longer sufficient. What’s more, no matter how skilfully crafted, a wooden or painted image does not have the living blood of a human being. To express the living divine character of the universe and Great Nature, it is only natural that a living human form would feel more fitting. That you now find the Indian-style, wooden-carved Amida-sama in the household altar unsatisfactory, and have come to seek a more living honzon [本尊 principal image], is the result of your deepening conviction and your awakening to a mode of life proper to the Japanese people. That is truly admirable. Know this: the divine character of the universe and Great Nature—Amida Buddha—is none other than His Majesty the Emperor, who even now resides in the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. And the Amida-sama in your altar is in fact a representation of His Majesty in Indian form—as he appears in the Dharma world—enshrined and venerated in that way. Please come to understand this.
B: But that seems terribly roundabout. If I am to revere and offer devotion to His Majesty the Emperor, would it not be better to do so directly, rather than relying on a wooden image made to resemble the Buddha in Indian style? If I wish to worship His Majesty morning and evening, would it not be best to respectfully place the imperial portrait [御眞影] in the alcove and offer my reverence with a full heart?
A: If your heart has progressed that far, then that is truly wonderful, and I think it best that you do just that. I only explained the method because you expressed a strong desire to once more find the wooden statue of Amida-sama in your altar deeply moving and meaningful. Also, although the imported Buddhist teachings, images, and scriptures from India may have, by their Indian flavour, slightly disrupted the native Japanese spirit in certain respects, it is still undoubtedly true that the profound thought, philosophy, and religion that flowed from the Buddha’s deep awakening have nurtured the thought-life of our people and helped to cultivate the very foundation of our national essence [國體]. So, in order to express our gratitude for that, there is still meaning in bowing before the Indian-style image of Amida Buddha. Therefore, if possible, the most appropriate practice for a Buddhist believer in Japan would be to worship, morning and evening, both the imperial portrait of His Majesty the Emperor—who is the living embodiment of the divine character of the universe and great nature—and the Indian-style image of Amida Buddha, who has long served as a source of spiritual cultivation. Though belatedly, I myself have been conducting my morning devotions in this manner since this New Year.
16. The Question of Whether Personal Consciousness Continues After Death [一六、死後、個人意識、存續非存續の問題]
B: Thank you very much indeed. Thanks to you, the doubts I’ve carried for many years have been cleared away, and I feel as though a great weight has lifted from my chest. There is just one more important matter I would like to ask you about.
A: Please, go ahead. Whatever I know, I will answer directly and openly—ask me anything.
B: What becomes of our conscious life after death?
A: Ah, now that is a very deep question. I must admit, it’s a difficult one. However, if your reason for asking is because you’re concerned about your own happiness or unhappiness after death, then I would actually say it is better not to try to answer. Why? Well, because such concern is just like the needless anxieties you suffered in the past—it shows that your mind is once again caught up in that narrow, petty, self-centred way of thinking. If I were to get drawn into that and start saying things like, “If you do such-and-such, you’ll be happy after death,” or “If you don’t, you’ll be unhappy,” then you’d just get pulled deeper into that concern and fall into a small, stingy, ghost-like anxiety about your own posthumous happiness or misery. That is not a good path to go down. So let me ask: what exactly prompted your question?
B: Well… now that you turn the question back on me like that, I must admit I’m a bit flustered. Without realising it, I had once again been slipping into that same petty, self-interested anxiety. From our conversation today, I had come to understand very clearly that as far as this present life is concerned, I must loyally devote myself to the Emperor and the nation, and dedicate my whole life to that service. But then I began to wonder—if I live a sincere and upright life in this way, then surely I should be reborn in a good place, like the Pure Land. But… will I really? That thought began to arise, and that is what prompted my question. However, you saw straight through the base-hearted thoughts behind my question—and I’m honestly a bit ashamed. So let me now change the motive for my question entirely. This time, I would like to ask: from the perspective of scientific research, what is known about the world after death? I am asking out of intellectual curiosity.
A: In that case, I’m afraid I must say that at present, we simply do not know. First of all, whether personal consciousness continues in some form after death—that, as far as science is concerned, is entirely unknown. Even in the academic world, views have long been divided, and the matter has yet to be settled. I believe that in the future, the time may come when this will become clearer—but for now, the most scientifically honest answer is simply: “We do not know.” And if we do not know whether personal consciousness survives after death, then questions of posthumous happiness or suffering, or rise and fall, are even more unknowable.
B: So then—it might continue?
A: Yes, it might.
17. The Natural Desire of the Japanese Concerning the Whereabouts of the Soul After Death [一七、死後靈魂の去就に關する日本人當然の要望]
B: If it does continue after death, what should one do?
A: Well, let’s suppose that each individual retains free will and can choose their path according to their wishes.
B: Yes—let’s suppose that.
A: In that case, surely one’s wishes after death ought to be in harmony with the wishes one holds during life. If, in this present world, your true desire is to work—within the limits of your strength—for the sake of your country, your lord, and society, then surely you would wish to do the same after death. To say that one’s thinking will change after death would be to imply that one’s current thinking is merely temporary and insincere.
B: I see. Then, would it be mistaken to think—as many past Buddhists have—that if one does good in this life and has faith in Amida-sama, one will be born into the Pure Land after death?
A: That depends on your motive. If the thought is to abandon Japan and this world altogether after death, and be reborn in some other Buddhist realm in order to enjoy peace and pleasure alone—then that is a cold, selfish and petty sort of thinking. It is not only contrary to the Japanese spirit, but also contrary to Mahāyāna Buddhism. It is a mindset more akin to the small-mindedness of Hīnayāna voice-hearers, or even the craving nature of hungry ghosts [餓鬼道]. Even in the Pure Land teachings the reason for being born in the Pure Land is never to seek enjoyment for oneself alone, but rather to become free and unhindered, in order to return and help liberate all beings. And when we say “all beings,” we say so broadly—but for us Japanese, those we are most deeply connected to are, of course, here in Japan. So if one were to die and go to the Pure Land, one would not hesitate even a single day before returning straightaway to Japan—to continue serving His Majesty with loyalty, to protect the nation, to care for one’s parents, siblings, and family in both body and spirit, to uplift one’s fellow citizens, to extend aid to neighbouring China, to work for peace in the East, and ultimately for the harmony of all nations of the world. I believe this must be the proper view of the future for a truly self-aware Japanese citizen.
B: Has anyone in the past expressed such a view?
A: I believe not many have. But I think the future vision of Lord Kusunoki Masashige [楠正成公], who is said to have been a devout Buddhist, corresponds exactly to this way of thinking. When he met his death in battle at Minatogawa, he is said to have declared that he wished to be reborn seven times so that he could serve his lord and country. “Seven times” does not mean literally seven rather than eight—it means, “as many times as needed.” If possible, he wished to remain in this land for all eternity, devoting himself to our Emperor and country—and, through the flourishing of our nation, to serve all humankind and all living beings in the universe. This was the heartfelt aspiration of Lord Masashige, as a Japanese believer in the Buddha’s teaching. We should take him as our guide, and through our respective positions and duties, dedicate ourselves—through both life and death—to serving the nation with all our heart. That, I believe, is what we ought to pray and strive for. That is what it means to be a living nenbutsu practitioner [念佛行者] in the present age. That is what it means to be someone who is truly born into the Pure Land.
B: Well—thank you very much indeed.
A: And I thank you most sincerely for listening so attentively.
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