Japanese Religions after Restoration: Christianity—Bushidō—Religious
Observances.
The political considerations which have affected religious development
in Japan are chiefly, though by no means entirely, connected with her
modern progress. Under the Tokugawa administration matters concerning
religion were entrusted to official dignitaries called _Jisha-bugiō_
who, as their name, “Controllers of Buddhist and Shintō temples,”
implies, took charge, in addition to other and more important
administrative duties, of all business connected with these two
religions. Both religions were thus recognized by the State, and were
equally matters of concern to the Tokugawa Government, though its
leanings were towards Buddhism. The Imperial Court, on the other hand,
during this period favoured Shintō. This it had not always done. Until
the advent to power of the military ruler Nobunaga in the middle of the
sixteenth century Buddhism had for several centuries been the dominating
religion. The Jesuit missionaries who then reached Japan found Buddhism
at the high tide of its power. At the Imperial Court, and everywhere
throughout the country, it exercised a supreme influence. Its military
strength, too, at that time was formidable. The abbots of Buddhist
monasteries in the vicinity of the Capital and elsewhere, like militant
bishops in the Middle Ages in Europe, kept garrisons of fighting monks,
which constituted a serious menace to administrative authority. A
ruthless campaign conducted by the ruler in question put an end to this
state of things. From the blow then dealt to it the Buddhist militant
clergy never recovered. As a result of the movement in the eighteenth
century, known as “The Revival of Pure Shintō,” to which reference was
made in a previous chapter, Buddhism for a time came under a cloud. But
its influence was subsequently re-established, Shintō sinking back again
into the secondary place it had occupied before.
When the Restoration took place the respective positions of the two
religions were entirely changed. The professed aim of the revolution
being to restore the system of direct Imperial rule, the new Government
naturally adopted every means of accomplishing this object. And, as
belief in the divine descent of the Mikados was a part of Shintō
doctrine, the encouragement of the native religion became an important
point in the programme of the reformers. In the organization of the new
administration, therefore, formed on an ancient bureaucratic model,
prominence was given to religion in the single form of Shintō by the
creation of a separate department of State for the control of Shintō
affairs. To this the name of _Jinji-jimu-Kioku_, shortly afterwards
changed to _jingikwan_, was given. Shintō thus became a synonym, as it
were, for religion; while Buddhism was left out in the cold, and, as a
Church, was practically disestablished. Nor did the zeal of the
reformers, who had thus in effect created a State religion, end here.
A form of abdication of frequent occurrence in Japan had been retirement
into the Buddhist priesthood. The custom was common to the whole nation,
and its practice by Mikados, princes of the Imperial House, Court nobles
and the feudal aristocracy, had increased the prestige of Buddhism,
while enriching the sects whose temples were thus favoured. The new
Government prohibited this custom, so far as the Imperial House and the
nobility were concerned; all _Riōbu Shintō_ temples were restored to
their ancient status of Shintō shrines; and at the same time many
Buddhist temples throughout the country were deprived of the lands from
which their revenues were largely drawn. This act of spoliation served a
double purpose. It benefited the depleted national exchequer and
discouraged the adherents of the ex-Shōgun, whose family had always
patronized Buddhism.
An innovation introduced at this time, with the object apparently of
popularizing Shintō and bringing it into line, so to speak, with
religions elsewhere, was the institution of Shintō funerals; the
performance of funeral rights, as well as the care of cemeteries, having
been entrusted hitherto to Buddhist priests.
That these steps were dictated by policy, and were not due to sectarian
feeling, is evident from the whole course of subsequent action in regard
to religious matters. In 1871 the _jingikwan_ was abolished, and Shintō
ceased to be the only State religion, though retaining to some extent
its privileged character. The place of the defunct department which had
ranked with the Council of State was taken by the _Kiōbusho_, or
Department of Religion, in which both Shintō and Buddhism enjoyed
official recognition, as before. For convenience of administration a
distinction was made between secular matters and religious worship, the
latter being placed under the control of a Bureau of Rites and
Ceremonies. This distinction is still maintained. The official
recognition enjoyed by each religion has been tacitly extended to
Christianity; but the principle of State policy regarding Shintō
survives. It is still _par excellence_ the Court religion, though the
fact that on the accession of a new Sovereign his robes are blessed at a
certain Buddhist temple in Kiōto shows that Buddhism has still an
accepted position at Court. There is a Shintō bureau in the Imperial
Household Department, and a Shintō shrine stands in the Palace.
The services in the Palace shrine at which the Emperor personally
officiates, and the worship by members of the Imperial family, or their
proxies, at the chief shrines in the country, secure for the Shintō
faith the first place in public esteem. The erection, moreover, in the
Capital, since the Restoration, of a national shrine to the memory of
all who have died fighting at home, or abroad, has established a new
centre of Shintō worship, where the native religion, in direct
association with military and patriotic sentiment, gains a fresh hold on
popular sympathy. More recently, too, the functions of the Shintō clergy
have been extended so as to include the ceremony of marriage, which was
formerly unconnected with religion of any kind, while since the
annexation of Korea a Shintō shrine has been established in Seoul.
The purely national character of the Japanese native religion excludes
the idea of its propagation in foreign countries. No such obstacle
exists in the case of Buddhism. After the Restoration several Buddhist
sects turned their attention to missionary effort abroad. A more or less
active propaganda has since then been carried on in Asiatic countries,
and the right of Japanese subjects to engage in missionary work in China
is recognized in the Treaty concluded with that country in 1905 after
the Russo-Japanese War. The activity of the Buddhist clergy in recent
times has shown itself in two ways quite unconnected with religious
propaganda. Extensive journeys in Central Asia for political and
scientific purposes have been undertaken by Buddhist travellers, who in
the course of their wanderings have gained much valuable information;
while others have done useful work in supplying the spiritual needs of
Japanese communities abroad.
The reopening of Japan to foreign intercourse added another to the list
of Japanese religions, though it was not till after the withdrawal of
the anti-Christian edicts in 1870 that the Japanese people were
permitted to adopt openly the new faith. If the progress Christianity
has made since then compares unfavourably with its rapid spread when
first introduced in the sixteenth century, this is explained by the less
favourable circumstances attending its reintroduction. When introduced
by Jesuit missionaries, it was regarded in some places as being simply a
new form of Buddhism, the authorities being misled by a certain
resemblance in ritual. On its later reintroduction it had to contend
against official and popular prejudice due to the previous persecution,
while, instead of being preached, as formerly, in the single form of
Roman Catholicism, it came under several forms, the number of which
increased as more missionaries arrived. A somewhat similar advantage,
however, marked its introduction on each occasion. Just as Christianity,
when introduced under Jesuit auspices, was at first encouraged for the
sake of the trade which came with it, so, on its reintroduction, it was
welcomed as a means of learning English. This advantage it still
retains. An account, written in 1917, of the religious work carried on
by the “Young Men’s Christian Association” since its establishment in
the Capital in 1880 contains the following statement: “One of the most
fruitful phases of the movement has been the securing of Christian
college graduates from Canada and the United States to teach English in
Japanese schools. While these teachers are appointed and salaried by the
schools, they are free to use their leisure for Christian work among the
students. There are now twenty-seven such teachers.” Evidence, moreover,
of the close connection between Christianity and the modern progress of
Japan, and of the benefit derived by the former from the increased study
of foreign languages, which is one of the results of this progress, is
supplied by a Japanese bishop, the Rev. Y. Honda, and Mr. Y. Yamaji in
the chapter on Christianity contributed by them to the book already
mentioned, _Fifty Years of New Japan_.
Opinions differ as to the future of Christianity in Japan. The Reports
of foreign missionary societies furnish encouraging data regarding the
results of missionary efforts during the last half century.
Nevertheless, a feeling of uncertainty regarding the prospects of
Christianity prevails both in Japanese and foreign circles. There is a
tendency to regard the eventual Christianization of the country as
doubtful, though the progress already made is freely admitted. To enter
into the various considerations which influence opinion on this point
would require more space than is at our disposal. An idea, however,
which is entertained by not a few attentive observers is that, in the
event of Christianity becoming in the distant future the dominant
religion of Japan, it will be Christianity in a new form evolved by the
people for themselves. They will do, it is thought, with Christianity as
they have done with the Buddhism imported from abroad, and mould it to
suit their own taste. This view derives some support from the two
separate movements—one towards independence, namely, freedom from
foreign control; the other towards amalgamation—which have taken place
in recent years in several Japanese Christian churches. A notable
instance of the first of these movements occurred some years ago in the
case of the Congregationalist University in Kiōto. In that case the
agitation for independence resulted in the control of the college
passing into the hands of the Japanese directors, the American
missionaries connected with the institution remaining simply as
advisers. American influence predominates to-day in foreign missionary
enterprise, the outstanding feature in the work of American missions
being the establishment of educational institutions on a Christian
basis. According to official statistics for 1917 the number of Japanese
Christians amounted in that year to a little over 200,000.
No account of Japanese religions can be complete without some mention of
_Bushidō_, the religion of the warrior, as its name implies. A product
of Japanese feudalism, round which a good deal of romantic sentiment,
and still more philosophical literature, has grown up, it may be
described as an unwritten rule of conduct to be observed by members of
the military class. Its best known exponent is Yamaga Sokō, whose
lectures and writings in the middle of the seventeenth century on
Bushidō, Confucianism and military strategy, as understood in those
days, gained for him a great reputation. Ōishi, the famous leader of the
Forty-Seven _rōnin_, was one of his pupils. The virtues on which stress
was laid in _Bushidō_ ethics were chiefly feudal loyalty,
self-sacrifice, filial piety and simple living, all of which might,
perhaps, be summed up in the one word duty. The endeavour of the
_samurai_ who was true to _Bushidō_ ideals was to live a life of
self-restraint, so as to be ready to answer the call of duty at any
moment. This explains the attraction for the adherents of _Bushidō_
which lay in the _Zen_ sect of Buddhism with its practice of silent
meditation. It helped them to cultivate the austere and detached habit
of mind that was supposed to be essential to the proper observance of
the Spartan rules of _Bushidō_. At the same time the strong, though
unacknowledged, influence of the Sung school of Confucianism on _Zen_
doctrine indirectly affected _Bushidō_ ideas, imparting to them a tinge
of the abstruse philosophy of that school. The association of the _Zen_
sect, moreover, with the quaint ceremonial of tea-drinking known as
“_Cha-no-yu_,” resulted in the practice of this ceremonial being widely
adopted in _Bushidō_ circles. In no sense a religion in the strict
meaning of the word, despite its connection with Buddhism and
Confucianism, _Bushidō_ in the course of its later development came to
be identified with patriotism. It is this aspect of it which has been
most conspicuous since the disappearance of feudalism. Constant
reference is made by modern Japanese writers on the subject to the
_Yamato Damashii_, or Japanese spirit, which it is considered to
represent; and though much of what is said is far-fetched, and possibly
meant for foreign consumption, the simple precepts of _Bushidō_ have
undoubtedly served a useful purpose in stimulating in all classes of the
people the exercise of the virtues it inculcates. Quick to recognise the
usefulness of its ethical teaching, the Japanese Government has availed
itself of the services of _Bushidō_, in conjunction with Shintō, to
strengthen the fabric of monarchy. Its action in this direction, due,
apparently, to motives similar to those which influenced German policy
before the Great War in encouraging a creed of State worship, was
criticized shrewdly, though somewhat harshly, a few years ago in a
magazine article entitled “The Invention of a new Religion.”
The Japanese people may, as has been suggested, be disposed to take
religion less seriously than other nations. As to the great part,
nevertheless, which it plays in the national life, in the shape of
pilgrimages and religious festivals, there can be no question. At
certain periods of the year, regulated by custom so as to cause the
least interference with agricultural operations, thousands of pilgrims
of both sexes, not content with visiting less remote shrines, make long
journeys to noted shrines throughout the country. The pilgrim who has
thus visited the Great Shrine at Isé, ascended one of Japan’s many
sacred mountains, or worshipped at other distant shrines, not only
“acquires virtue” thereby, but gains social prestige in his home circle
in town, or village, much in the same way as the Mussulman _hadji_ who
has been to Mecca, or the Russian peasant who has seen the sacred places
in the Holy Land. These pilgrimages also serve indirectly an educational
purpose. Among the countless religious festivals which vary the monotony
of daily life in Japan, the flower fairs are those which are most
typically Japanese. On every evening of the year a flower fair,
associated with the festival of a local shrine, takes place in some
quarter of the city of Tōkiō. Nor are these fairs peculiar to the
Capital. They are to be seen in most provincial towns of importance,
though the smaller number of urban shrines precludes their daily
occurrence. Neither pilgrimages nor religious festivals, it should be
noted, are due entirely to religious sentiment. They appeal to the love
of ceremonies, and the passion for sight-seeing, which distinguish the
nation.
Before leaving the subject of religion it may be well to emphasize a
point which has received only passing attention. In all the three
religions which have had most to do with the moulding of Japanese
character and thought, Buddhism, Shintō and Confucianism, the principle
of ancestor-worship is imbedded. The result has been that a closer, a
more intimate, association of the past with the present, of the dead
with the living, is, perhaps, possible in Japan than elsewhere. The
beautiful Buddhist festival of departed spirits; the simpler, if more
primitive, services at Shintō shrines in memory of deceased relatives;
the daily worship at family altars decorated with ancestral tablets; the
careful keeping of the anniversaries of deaths; the religious care
bestowed on graves; and the idea, not to say belief, in the
participation of departed spirits in National Festivals—all tend not
only to keep fresh in men’s minds the memory of their dead, but to
encourage the feeling of their continued existence in spirit land. Thus
the mischief wrought by time is lessened, while death is robbed of a
part of its terrors.