The Significance of Seeing God in the Modern Age (In Memory of Tsunashima Ryōsen-kun [綱島梁川君] as a Seer of God) by Nakagiri Kakutarō [中桐確太郎]
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「神と偕にたのしみ神と偕にはたらく」 |
Back in January this year (2026) I published a draft translation of Nakagiri Kakutarō’s 1924 essay, “Spiritual foundations of reconstruction and rebuilding
” [1924] written following the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923. Well, I have been exploring his thinking a little more since then, especially his involvement with Tenkō Nishida-san and his Ittōen community in Kyoto. Indeed, it was Nakagiri Kakutarō who helped write the Prayer for Light (Provisional) that my friend Miki Nakura and I have recently translated. Anyway, whilst looking into Nakagiri Kakutarō’s 1912 book “Accompanying the Prayer of Radiant Light” [光明祈願にそへて] I came across the essay I publish here in draft translation. I publish it for two particular reasons. The first is that it is a piece about Tsunashima Ryōsen [綱島梁川], whose wonderful 1905 essay I first translated over a year ago, “My [Spiritual] Experiment of Seeing God”
[予が見神の実験], that has such a huge influence on my own, great, free-religious exemplar, Imaoka Shin’ichirō. The second is that in this essay, in the section called The Rise of New Religions [種々なる宗教の出現], Nakagiri Kakutarō uses the metaphor of “refraction” which has really captured my imagination as a way of talking about the central task of free-religion. Here’s the relevant passage:
To one who has seen the true light [本當の光り], light remains light [光りは光り] regardless [拘らず] of how it is refracted [屈折の仕方]; and yet, to cause [惹起すと云ふ] conflict by obsessing [囚はれて] over the mode of refraction is the very seed of calamity [禍の種子]. In the religions [宗教] rising today, the light [光り] is certainly present [相違ありません], but when people mistake the refraction [屈折] for the Truth itself, or when they lose sight of the Source [本源] because they are dazzled [眩亂昏倒して] by the strange refractions [不思議の屈折] of their own poor knowledge [お粗末な知識], they fall into what we call “evil cults and depraved rituals” [邪教淫祀]. Therefore, I believe [思ひます] the most vital [大切] and essential [肝要] matter [事] lies in [處にある] liberating [救つて行く] the primal light [本源の光] from the captivity [捕はれ] of its own refraction [其屈折率].
I’m sure I’ll be writing more about this at some later point. But, be that as it may, here’s a draft translation of Nakagiri Kakutarō’s essay for your pleasure.
—o0o—
The Significance [意義] of Seeing God [見神] in the Modern Age [現代](Remembering [憶ふ] Tsunashima Ryōsen-kun [綱島梁川君] as a Seer of God [見神者])
Delivered at the commemorative lecture for the 15th anniversary of Tsunashima Ryōsen-kun's [綱島梁川君] death, held at Hongō Church [本郷教會] in September [九月] 1921 [Taishō 10].
The Lived Experience [實驗] of Seeing God [見神]
That which should be called the supreme point [至上點]—the culmination [カミニネーション]—of the entire life [一生] of Tsunashima Ryōsen-kun [綱島梁川君] was surely his so-called “experiment of seeing God” [見神の實驗]. He spoke of this lived experience [實驗] himself in various places, and I believe that the act of saying “I saw God” [神を見た] was the very summit [頂上] of Ryōsen-kun’s [梁川君] spiritual and mental life [精神的生活].
As all of Ryōsen-kun’s [梁川君] friends acknowledge, he was an exceptionally faithful [忠實] man who would never deceive himself [自から欺かない]. On top of that, he was a man of superior reason [理性]. To be sure [尤も], having received Christian baptism [基督教の洗禮] at about the age of fourteen or fifteen, he believed in God [神] and offered up the sincere devotion [誠] of a heart filled with heartfelt awe [悃悃/憤懍] toward the Divine. However, at that time, he held the view [風に考へて居られました] that actually seeing God [神] before one’s eyes [目のあたり] in this physical world [此世] was a thing that could never, after all [到底], be done. This skeptical stance appears throughout his diaries [日記] and letters [手紙].
In a letter dated 6th October 1901, addressed to five or six of us [私共], there is a passage that illustrates this perfectly. Because the matter was related to me personally, I remember it well [よく記憶して居ります]. At that time, I was preaching [説いて居りました] the necessity [必要] of “seeing God” [見神]. While he noted that the specific implications [意義] of my own theories would need to be investigated, Ryōsen-kun [梁川君] set out his own thoughts [自分の考へ] in the following sequence:
“Supposing I state the essence [要] of my humble opinion [愚見], I wonder [存ぜられ候] if God [神] does not permit us to see Him as He truly is [如實に見るを容さざるもの]. I consider this the innate fate [先天の運命] of us humans, whose very nature [本性] makes it impossible to thoroughly transcend [超越] ([テラリツセン]) the ego [自我]. Is it not perhaps impossible [出来まじき事] for us to leap [一躍] across the divide and meet God face-to-face [面接]? I believe [存じ候] that God [神] is something to be ‘read’ [讀まれ得べきもの], and is not one who can be ‘seen’ [見られ得べき者].”
Such were his words. He was of the firm opinion [御意見] that God [神], after all, cannot be seen directly [目の當り]. This was a discussion born of a specific epistemology [認識論] he held at the time. While his heart [御心の中] was always filled with a longing adoration [景慕の念] for God [神], the “wall of reason” [理性の壁] dictated that God [神] was invisible. Intellectually [智識], this was his position; yet, as the illness [病] he had long suffered from gradually progressed [彌々進み] and he faced the shadow of death [死といふものゝ姿], he finally arrived at that profound experience [實驗] of “seeing God” [神を見ると云ふ實驗].
Illness [病] and Death [死]
I believe [信じます] that the condition referred to as “unrecoverable illness and death” [不起の病死] has a primary connection [主なる關係] to Ryōsen-kun’s [梁川君] experience [實驗] of seeing God [見神]. However [併しながら], I do not believe we can simply dismiss his experience in a sweeping manner [一概に批評] as being “completely pathological” [病的]—as a certain critic [批評家] did when Ryōsen-kun [君] first announced [發表せられた] his visions—merely because illness [病] was the catalyst [機縁].
Humans, because they are healthy [健康] or in a combative, vigorous mood [戰闘的氣分], often go about their lives without ever noticing [氣付かずに済ます] the things that they truly ought to notice. From the perspective of pathology [病理學上], there might be criticisms [批評] claiming that his visions were nothing more than fantasies [幻想] caused by disease germs [病菌] attacking the brain [脳]. Yet, if becoming ill [病氣になつた] is what allowed him to finally notice [氣付く] the truths he needed to notice, then that illness is something for which we should rather be thankful [感謝すべきこと]. In the olden days, when Socrates [ソークラテース] was questioned for his crimes [罪に問はれ] and sat drinking the poison [毒薬を仰いで], he said as he was dying: “I now submit to my penalty and die. Whether I, who depart in death, am truly happy [幸福], or whether you, who remain alive, are happy—God [神] alone knows [知り給ふ].” I believe [思ひます] that in cases like this, the question of whether the sick man is actually the fortunate one [仕合はせ] becomes a serious problem [問題] to consider.
The fact that such a great spiritual experiment [大なる實驗] was performed through illness [病] was because it forced him to look death [死] directly in the face [正面]. Ryōsen-kun [梁川君] seems to have been contemplating death [死] since his mid-teens. Looking up at the stars [星] shining in the sky [天空] on a quiet night [靜かなる夜], he would be lost in thoughts [想ひに耽けられた] like: “If I died, what would become of me?” Though he had thought of death [死] in this way, I do not believe [思ひます] he had yet grasped its true form [眞の姿]. In most cases, even suicide [自殺] fails to reveal death’s true nature [眞の姿]. Since suicide [自殺] is the act of killing oneself, and the "self who kills" [殺す自分] remains, the true face [眞の姿] of death remains unknown. However [けれども], for a patient [病者] who has finally resolved [覺悟した] that there is absolutely no hope of recovery [到底快復の見込はない], death [死] sometimes reveals its true reality [真相].
The physical body [肉體] is a thing that must die [死すべきもの]. As it is said: “Human life is but fifty years; seventy has been rare since ancient times [七十は古來稀なり].” Even if one were to live to a hundred and twenty-five [百二十五歳], in the end [遂には], one must die. Death [死] is an inevitable destiny [必然の運命] for humans, and it is not something to be surprised by [驚くべきもの] even now. Yet, when we behold the face [姿] of death [死] and feel a special agitation [動揺] in our hearts, this is not merely the death of the flesh [肉體の死]—it is a problem [問題] arising from the shock [錯愕] of the soul [霊魂].
The Twofold Veil [二重の幕]
The soul [霊魂], if we hold to our faith [私共の信ずる所], is a thing that never dies. I believe [思ひます] death [死] does not exist within the soul [霊魂]. Therefore [でありますから], from a true standpoint [本當の立場], it is only natural [自然] to know nothing of death [死]. A small child [をさな子] knows nothing of death; to such a child, who is like a citizen [民] of the true Heaven [本當の天國], death [死] is no hardship [苦勞]. It seems there was a song to this effect by Terence [テレンス].
However [所が], within the human being [人間], the faculty of knowledge [知識] eventually arises—though we know not when or how. With this knowledge [知識], we deny the fact [事實] that the soul [霊魂] is immortal and come to believe [考へる様になりました] that we must perish along with our physical bodies [肉體]. Furthermore [然かも], this knowledge [知識] is often forgotten [忘れられて居る] for the sake of bodily health [身体の健康]. Thus, the truth of the soul’s immortality [霊魂の不死] is hidden [覆はれてをります] by a twofold veil [二重の幕]. One veil [一つの幕] is the intellectual veil of knowledge [知識の幕] that we will probably die along with the physical body [肉體]. The other [も一つ] is a veil [一つの幕] of health that makes us forget even the fact that we will die at all.
If human beings [人間] simply vanished [滅び去つてしまふ] along with the death of the body [肉體の死], we would feel no agony [悩み] when facing death. Agony [悩み] is something we feel only when we see that something which ought to be possible [出来得べき筈のこと] is, in reality, impossible [出来得ざる]. If something were truly impossible [眞に出来ざる事], it is the rule [常] that humans would simply resign [諦める] themselves to it. Resignation [諦め] brings its own kind of peace [安心]. Therefore [故に], there are those in this world [世の中] who find peace [安心] in the resignation [諦め] born of the belief [信じて] that a person perishes with their body [肉體].
While I will not debate the value [價値] of that peace [安心] today, people who stand on such resignation [諦め] often [往々] look at those facing death in agony [悩み] and dismiss it as a mere “lingering attachment” [執着] to the physical body [肉體]. Such a critique [批評], however, fails to grasp the reality [事實] of the human condition [實情]. Those who have experienced true agony [悩み] know that it does not spring from a desire to cling to the body, but from a slightly deeper source [根源]. When we observe this in detail [仔細に], we touch [ふれる] upon the problem of the spirit [靈の問題].
How, then, does this agony [悩み] arise? The soul [霊魂]—the “I”—is inherently immortal [本来滅びざるもの]. Yet, our human knowledge [人間の智識] tells us that we must perish with the body [肉體の死] and that we simply vanish [全く滅び去る]. Here, there is a grievance [不平] and dissatisfaction [不滿] within the spirit [靈]. We long to tear through [破りて] the veil of knowledge [知識の幕] and reveal its immortal truth [不滅なる眞相]. If we cannot, an infinite agony [無限の悩み] is born. While the first veil [第一の幕]—the intellectual belief in mortality—may be torn by a terminal illness [病氣死], the spirit [靈] will continue to suffer [悩む] unless the second veil [第二の幕] of knowledge [知識の幕] is also removed.
Zen [禪] is one method [方法] of tearing this veil [幕], as is facing the true form [眞の姿] of death. For when one beholds the truth [眞相] of death, the human ego [我執] is shattered. When the ego [我執] is broken, the veil of knowledge [知識の幕] falls. In that moment, the immortal spirit [靈] appears in all its grand and stately [儼然堂々] majesty. In this way [此の如くにして], the spirit [靈] is saved [救はるゝ] from its agony [悩み].
The Reflection [省察] of Reason [理性]
Through unrecoverable illness [不治の病], one sees the true face [眞の姿] of death, the two veils [第一第二の幕] are torn away, and one beholds the spirit [靈] and God [神]. Of course [勿論], among those in this state [状態], there will be cases where pathological delusions [病的變態] arise. However [けれども], I believe [思ひます] it is far too bold a conclusion [速断] to label all such experiences as pathological [病的].
In Ryōsen-kun’s [梁川君] case, because he was a man of absolute integrity [自ら欺かざる性質] who held reason [理性] in the highest regard, he did not accept [肯定] his experience [實驗] of seeing God [見神] lightly [輕々しく]. He was very clear about his commitment to reason [理性]:
“I [予] respect the authority [權能] of reason [理性]. I have never—at least not consciously [意識して]—ignored [無視した] its demands [要求], nor have I ever sought to suppress [壅塞して] it in a manner that lets me barely stand. A conviction [信念] that stands only by blocking reason cannot be called a solid conviction [堅實なる信念]. Conviction [信念] belongs to the supreme being [至上人]. A true conviction [眞個の信念] cannot be won by gambling [賭して] on the disintegration [分裂] of one’s own personality [自家人格]. I [予] intend [期す] to let the light of my reason [予の理性の光] be increasingly active [倍々活溌に] and clear [發越照著せしめん]. This is my consistent attitude [一貫の態度], and it is the only attitude [態度] I can take.”
Ryōsen-kun [君] strictly held to this attitude [嚴正に], questioning many times whether his vision of God [見神] was merely a pathological hallucination [病的の幻像]. As he said: “I [予] subjected this truth to a vast period of deep thought and careful consideration [沈思精慮] before I published [發表する] it to the world [天下].” This was no superficial confession [告白]. Although he reported [報告された] his seeing God [見神] around 1904, his diaries [日記] and letters [書翰集] show he had similar experiences [經驗] as early as 1897. Since then, he tempered [陶冶し] and refined [精錬し] his thoughts repeatedly. As he himself stated:
“Ah, the truth [眞理] of my vision [わが見神] has been sharpened and polished [研ぎ磨かれて] by the blade [鋒] of countless cool recollections [回想], reflections [省察], and criticisms [批評], until it now shines [輝きぬ] like refined gold and beautiful jade [精金美玉].”
Truly, this was a magnificent conviction [信念], and I do not believe [思ひます] it can be dismissed as mere superstition [迷信] from any perspective. Superstition [迷信], I would define [定義], is the act of believing [信ずる事] something to be a fact [事實]—usually out of selfish desire and gain [我欲我利の念]—without any intuitive experience [直覺的の經驗] or logical criticism [論理的の批判]. If this definition holds, Ryōsen-kun’s [梁川君] experience [實驗] had no trace of superstition [迷信].
He often loved to quote Zen Master Hakuin [白隠禪師]: “Generally [大凡], in the three worlds and ten directions [三世十方の間], there is no Buddha [佛] who has not seen his true nature [見性], and no saint [賢聖] who has not done the same.” The truth [眞理] of seeing God [見神] lies at the heart [根柢] of all religions [凡ての宗教]. Every religious person [宗教家] has, at some point, encountered this experience [實驗], and Ryōsen-kun [君] was no exception. He refused to let it remain a mere pathological phenomenon [病的現象], subjecting it to intense reflection [省察し] and inspection [點檢して] until he had polished [研きなし] it into something that is unobstructed [障りのない] and could be understood by all religious people [凡ての宗教家].
Spiritual Joy [法悅] and Mission [使命]
Tsunashima-kun [綱島君] described the beauty of his experience [實驗] in his own writings, but I would like to consider the significance [關係] of seeing God [見神] in our modern religious life [現代の宗教的生活]. As he said [梁川君も申されて居る様に]:
“One significance [一義] of seeing God [見神] does not end with the vision itself [其ものにして終はらず]; it does not wither [枯れず]. Rather, it develops [開發し来つて] a more abundant and objective new life [客観的新生命], leading to infinite progress [無限向上]. It is the definitive gateway [確實なる一關門] into a new religious life [宗教的新生活].”
For Ryōsen-kun [梁川君], this new life [新生活] meant conveying [傳へる] the spiritual joy [法悅] he had found to his fellow countrymen [同胞]. He wrote:
“My soul [わが靈魂] has stood up to praise God [神を讃美し], for I have heard the voice [聲] of a noble mission [尊き使命]: ‘Convey this self-awakening [自覺] to your brothers [同胞].’ I [われ] have exactly finished the first labour pains [産みの苦しみ]; now I must endure the second [第二の産みの苦しみをなすべきなり].”
Generally [一體], when one attains the boundary [境界] of thorough great enlightenment [徹底的大悟] described in these visions, a new heaven and earth [新天地] inevitably opens up. In that state, this world [此世界]—just as it is [此儘]—is seen as the Pure Land of Tranquil Light [寂光の淨土], as Paradise [極樂の天園], as the Kingdom of Heaven [天國]. And yet, when we look back at the reality of our lives [現實の世界], we see a defiled land [穢土] of suffering [苦患], a valley of tears [涙の谷].
While enlightenment reveals a beautiful world [天地], the reality of society [実際の世相] remains like a house on fire [猶如火宅]. To the enlightened soul [大悟徹底した人], these two worlds [二つの世界] exist simultaneously. The desire [願ひ] to somehow transform this world into a heavenly Pure Land [天國浄土] is a petition [所願] shared by all religious people [凡ての宗教家]. Ryōsen-kun [梁川君] truly lived through [體験せられて居つた] these experiences. I believe [思ひます] he described these two states [境涯] most beautifully in his essay “As I Have Witnessed” [如是我證] within his work The Record of the Reflecting Light [回光録]. He captured this paradox in the phrase: “Enjoying together with God [神と偕に楽しみ], and working together with God [神と偕に働く].”
In “enjoying together with God [神と偕に楽しみ],” we see him tasting the beautiful spiritual joy [美しき法悅] of realising that this world [此世界] is, just as it is [此儘], the Kingdom of Heaven [天國浄土]. On the other hand, looking at reality [現實], he saw an unspeakable world of suffering [苦患の世の中]. He felt he must labour to bring reality closer to the ideal [理想] as quickly as possible; this he called “working together with God [神と偕に働く].” I believe [思ひます] spiritual joy [法悅] refers primarily [主として] to the state of “enjoying together with God [神と偕に楽しみ].” As for the depth of that experience [宗教的體験], perhaps only those who dwell in that state [境涯] can truly understand it [獨り參し得る]. It is not for me [私の分際] to speak further on such matters.
The Compromise of Established Religions [既成宗教の妥協的態度]
Ryōsen-kun [梁川君] connected his “working together with God [神と偕に働く]” to his own vocation [天職], making it his mission to share this joy [法悅] with others. This “work” [働く] can take many forms [いろ／＼の形式]. I have tentatively [假りに] categorised [分類してみました] it into two main types.
The first is to stand on one’s own spiritual ground and lead [導いてくる] others to one’s own standpoint [立場]—primarily through means [方便] such as preaching [説教] or writing [文筆]. This was the path taken by Ryōsen-kun [梁川君], probably. But there is another way. Since some truths cannot be reached through words [言葉] or theories [論説] alone, methods like Zen [禪] were devised [工夫されました]. Regardless [何れにしましても], these are efforts [事業] aimed [目的] at guiding [導いてくる] those who have not yet reached that spiritual level [立場].
The second type of work [一つの事業] is to respond to people’s physical and material needs [他の要求]—to go to them with your own body [身をもつて行く]. This means curing the sick [病氣を治してあげたり] and saving the poor [貧困を救うてあげたり]. The mendicancy [托鉢] of Ittōen [一燈園] or acts of selfless service [懺悔奉仕] belong to this category. This work [事業] can be personal [個人的] or social [社會的]—the Salvation Army [救世軍] and the Kyōfūkai [矯風會] [WCTU] are examples of this on a large scale [大仕掛].
These two forms of religious work [宗教の事業] always exist, but their prominence shifts [消長] with the times [時代]. For instance, in Medieval Europe [歐羅巴の中世紀], the long-suppressed desire for knowledge [知識欲] was stimulated [刺戟せられて] by the material civilisation [物質的文明] of Islam [回教], leading to a great rise [勃興し] in experimental science. As science flourished [興隆し], Copernicus’s [コペルニカス] heliocentric theory [太陽中心説] shook the foundations of theology [神學上の系統] and faith [信仰]. Science [科學] advanced rapidly [長足の進歩], culminating in the 19th century [十九世紀] with Darwin’s [ダルウヰン] theory of evolution [進化説], which overturned human-centred views [人間中心] and revolutionised [一大革命] philosophy [哲學上の思想]. The unprecedented prosperity [繁榮] of scientific material civilisation [物質的文明] meant that the power of knowledge [知識の勢力] began to overwhelm [壓倒する] everything else. Religionists then began to compromise [妥協し], explaining everything through science [科學的に] and neglecting [閑却し去り] mystical experiences [神秘的経験] and intuitive truths [直覺的態度], living in constant fear [惴々として] of being labelled “superstitious” [迷信].
Even in Christianity [基督教] and Buddhism [佛教], the fundamental life [根本生命] of religion has been lost [失ひ去つてしまつた]. Of course, there are splendid exceptions [除外例], but this is the general state [概して申せば] of affairs. We see this same trend in how religion responds to social demands. The development of science [科學の發達]—the steam engine [蒸氣機關] and all the machinery [機械] that followed—completely transformed transport [交通], industry [産業制度], and daily life [生活]. Society was seen as an organic [有機的] whole, and religious work [宗教の事業] became large-scale [大仕掛] to meet the needs of the masses. As a result [其結果], the individual problems of the spirit [靈の問題]—which require personal guidance [個人的に指導する]—were naturally neglected [閑却される].
Religious work [宗教の事業] differs from social or state welfare [國家社会の施設]. If you cure a person’s illness [病氣を治しただけで] but offer nothing for their spirit [靈], that act is religiously meaningless [無意味]; it is merely acting as a doctor’s assistant [お醫者さんの御手傳ひ]. If you build schools [学校] and provide vocational training [職業教育] but forget to nurture the spirit [靈の方面], you are not performing true religious work [本當の宗教事業]. It is a fine thing to build orphanages [孤兒院] and raise children into upright citizens [立派の人間に仕立てて行くと云ふ事], but if we merely treat the symptoms without addressing the spiritual cause [因], we are not performing the work of religion. Nowadays, “social work” [社会事業] is fashionable, and religionists hold many meetings and sessions. These are all well and good [結構なこと], but whether they can truly be called “religious work” [本當の宗教の仕事] is another question entirely. Religion must not stop at satisfying material needs [物質の要求の満足]. It must address the demands of the spirit [靈の要求], and I wonder how many institutions today truly fulfil that spiritual need.
The Rise of New Religions [種々なる宗教の出現]
In short [要するに], many established great religions [旧来の諸大宗教] have compromised with the intellect [理智] and become imprisoned [囚はれて] by utilitarianism [功利の念], neglecting the spiritual problems [靈の問題] that are the very heart [生命] of religious work [宗教的事業]. This neglect has led to the rise [現出] of various “New Religions” [新宗教]. I believe [思ひます] that movements like Ōmoto-kyō [大本教] have appeared precisely because the established religions [既成の大宗教] have forgotten [忘れてしまつた] their own life-force [生命]. To put it in Ryōsen-kun’s [梁川君] terms, they have forgotten to cultivate [開拓する事] the state of spiritual joy [法悅境], having lost the foundation [根本] of “Enjoying together with God [神と偕に楽しみ].” If “spiritual joy is constant seeing of God” [法悅は不斷の見神なり], then neglecting that spiritual experiment [實驗] has led to the current state of affairs.
Spiritual joy [法悅] wells up and overflows [湧き溢れ來る] when we become one with what we call O-hikari (the Great-Light) [お光り]. Whatever the form [如何なる形] of a religion [宗教], if it has the power [力] to truly move people from their core [根底], it is because it possesses this O-hikari [お光り] at its foundation [根底]. Even Ōmoto-kyō [大本教] cannot be dismissed as mere falsehood [虚偽]; there must be some spark of life [生命] at its core. Many new religions [いろ／＼の宗教] have risen in Japan [日本], and if we look closely [よく調べて見ますならば], I am sure [必や] we will find some true light [本當の光り] at the source of those that truly move people.
This light [光り] comes through the human medium [人間を通じ]—I always use the sun [太陽] as an analogy. Just as light [光り] refracts [屈折して来る] when passing through air [空氣] or water [水], divine light inevitably refracts [屈折して来る] when passing through human experience [人間の經驗] and consciousness [意識]. When expressed through the physical body [肉體], it refracts [屈折します] even further. Even in the cases of Śākyamuni [釋尊] and Christ [基督]—if I may dare to speak of them in human terms [人間に引下して]—they could not escape [免れ得ぬ] the influence [影響] of their own heredity [遺傳], education [教育], and environment [境遇]. No matter how pure and genuine the O-hikari [お光り], it must undergo some degree of refraction [屈折].
Because this is an inevitable destiny [必然の運命], the light [光り] will always be refracted [屈折すること] as it is passed through human knowledge [人間の知識の組織] and embodied in our works [種々の事業]. While this cannot be helped [致し方ない], the danger lies in becoming imprisoned [囚はれて] by that specific refractive index [屈折率] or becoming so dazzled [目眩みて] by the individual colours [色彩] appearing from the analysis of light [光りの分析] that we forget the Source [本源の光]. This is how conflict [葛藤] and turmoil [粉擾] arise.
To one who has seen the true light [本當の光り], light remains light [光りは光り] regardless [拘らず] of how it is refracted [屈折の仕方]; and yet, to cause [惹起すと云ふ] conflict by obsessing [囚はれて] over the mode of refraction is the very seed of calamity [禍の種子]. In the religions [宗教] rising today, the light [光り] is certainly present [相違ありません], but when people mistake the refraction [屈折] for the Truth itself, or when they lose sight of the Source [本源] because they are dazzled [眩亂昏倒して] by the strange refractions [不思議の屈折] of their own poor knowledge [お粗末な知識], they fall into what we call “evil cults and depraved rituals” [邪教淫祀]. Therefore, I believe [思ひます] the most vital [大切] and essential [肝要] matter [事] lies in [處にある] liberating [救つて行く] the primal light [本源の光] from the captivity [捕はれ] of its own refraction [其屈折率].
Modern Demands [現代の要求] and Seeing God [見神]
There was once an artist [美術家] named Michelangelo [ミケランゼロ]. One day, he saw a large block of marble [大理石の塊] in a field and cried out: “There [彼處に], inside that stone block [彼の石塊の中に], an angel [天使] is imprisoned [囚へられて居る]! I must go and rescue [救ひ出さなければならない] it!” and he ran [駈けて行つて] with his chisel [鏨] to carve it out [刻みあげた]. Michelangelo [ミケランゼロ] succeeded in carving the heavenly messenger [天の使], but he could not escape [免るゝことは出来ませんでしたらう] the inconveniences [不便不都合] inherent in the marble [大理石] he used to express [現はすに用ゐた] that messenger [天の使].
Similarly, in his experiment [實驗] of seeing God [見神], Ryōsen-kun [梁川君] took the sharp blade [鋭い鋒先き] of reason [理性] and tried to polish away every trace of attachment [囚はれ]. Setting aside [それは兎に角と致しまして] the “inconveniences” [不便] of his own human experience [君の一生の經驗], it remains a fact [事實] that he carved an almost [略] completed statue of an angel [天使の像] from the stone.
I believe [想ふに] the demand of our modern age [現代の要求] is to see the angel [天使]. The heavenly messenger [天の使] is encased [包まれて] in a block of stone [石の塊]. We long to rescue [救ひ出し] it and behold its beautiful form [其美はしき姿]. In our fervent desire [熱烈なる願], some are so desperate to worship [拜みたい] it that they do not care if it is incomplete [不完全] or even grotesque [奇形異相]. At the same time, others reject [排斥してをる] it flatly [一も二もなく] because it appears too strange [奇形異容]. If Ryōsen-kun’s [梁川君] polished statue [像] were brought to where this demand [要求] exists, I believe [思ひます] it would satisfy [満足さする] everyone.
While his work of “working together with God [神と偕に働く]” had only just begun [端緒を開いたに過ぎぬ], he reached the absolute pinnacle [至極の所] of “spiritual joy [法悅]” in “enjoying together with God [神と偕に楽しみ].” Fifteen years after his passing [お亡くなりになつて], recollecting [追憶して] his experience [經驗]—polished [研き上げられた] by reason [理性] through much suffering [苦しまれ] regarding the experiment [實驗] of seeing God [見神]—my emotion [感激] is renewed [新たなるものがあります]. Fortunately, Shunjū-sha [春秋社] is now planning [企て] to publish [發行される] his Complete Works [全集]. This is a wonderful development [非常に結構の事].
While some still ask: “Was Tsunashima Ryōsen [綱島梁川] the father [お父さん] of Pastor Tsunashima [綱島牧師]?”, I believe it is truly meaningful [有意義] for our modern religious life [現代の宗教的生活] to re-examine the significance [意義] of his “seeing God” [見神] anew.
(Because I spoke in such a great hurry [大急ぎで述べましたので], my remarks were even more imperfect than they might otherwise have been [一層不完全になりました]. I humbly offer my thanks [御禮申上げます] for your kind patience with this rough and unpolished talk [不束な話].)
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