I am happy to report that I finally finished my book on Genshin (源信, 942 – 1017), a 9th century Japanese Buddhist monk who was a big influence on later Pure Land Buddhist thought. Genshin is often referred to as a “patriarch” in Japanese Pure Land Buddhism, but available information about Genshin in English (and even Japanese) is thin and circumspect and reflects later interpretation by Buddhist authors (and their Wikipedia editors). Weirdly, past authors and editors praise Genshin a lot, but frequently inject their own viewpoint. In other words, history is written by the winners.
Portrait of monk Genshin, d. 1017, attrib. to himself, property of Shōjūraigōji temple photo by Tani Bunchō et al.日本語: 谷文晁ほか / Public domain
Since it was surprisingly hard to find out what Genshin’s own teachings and viewpoints, the book proved super helpful in looking past the empty praise of later generations to the real Genshin. At least, the most we can glean from his writings and historical relics of the time.
Genshin, I learned, was first and foremost a Tendai Buddhist. He was ordained as a child and grew up training as a monk in a wholly Tendai-Buddhist environment on Mount Hiei. He never contradicted this either. His participation in debates with rival schools, his writings on various topics and even the writings that proved popular later about the Pure Land of Amida Buddha were all done from a fairly orthodox Tendai viewpoint.
To Genshin, the Pure Land path was always meant to be a holistic one. Later Pure Land authors tended to cherry-pick Genshin’s comments that the nembutsu (reciting the name of Amida Buddha) was an effective practice, but that was clearly not Genshin’s intention when you take his writings as a whole. As a Tendai Buddhist monk, Genshin’s primary focus was on meditation practices, and Tendai Buddhism has a ton of them, ranging from traditional “Zen-like” meditations to grueling 90-day retreats that involve walking all day around a statue. The original founder of Tiantai Buddhism in China (Tendai in Japan), named Zhi-yi, catalogued many kinds of meditation in his great work, the Mohe Zhiguan (摩訶止観, lit. “The Great Śamatha-Vipaśyanā Meditation”) in various categories. So, even when Genshin wrote about rebirth in the Pure Land as an endgoal, he was speaking from a Tendai-Buddhist standpoint which involved:
The primacy of meditation practices (in its various forms)
The Pure Land as one stop on the larger path toward full Buddhahood (as defined in the Lotus Sutra, which was central to Tendai thought).
Professor Rhodes is careful to point out in the book that later Buddhist writers, in discussing Genshin, were tackling unique challenges in their own era, so they looked for solutions where they could find them (hence their efforts were sincere if not a bit misguided), but after centuries and centuries, this has all gotten kind of muddled and the picture of Genshin is confusing and at times subtly misleading. Plus Tendai Buddhism today is greatly diminished from its heyday in the 10th century when it was practically the de facto state religion, so not a lot of people today would necessarily care what Genshin’s opinion was and wasn’t. For all intents and purposes he is a footnote in Japanese-Buddhist history now.
But Genshin was a highly respected scholar in his time who somehow managed to evade the growing collusion between politics and religion, and keep his reputation clean, while also providing important ideas and writings to the growing Pure Land Buddhist movement in Japan (and even sending his writings back to the mother temple in China on Mount Tiantai). He saw the ongoing breakdown of Japanese society as a sign of the coming Age of Dharma Decline and sought to help people as best he could by synthesizing the writings of past scholars in China and India into a comprehensive guide to seeking refuge in the Pure Land of Amitabha Buddha, the Buddha of Infinite Light. He was uniquely qualified due to his training and he carried out his goals like few others in his time did.
Thus even now, when Pure Land Buddhist followers (Jodo Shu, Jodo Shinshu, etc) in Japan and abroad recite the nembutsu, there is a small echo of Genshin’s influence still there.
As the family and I won’t be traveling this year to Japan to visit family, I wanted to post some old photos from past visits. I enjoy the nostalgia, and it’s nice to revisit some moments that I had forgotten.
One of the places we visit almost every year is the Buddhist temple of Zojoji, which is about a block away from the famous Tokyo Tower:
Taken by me in the summer of 2018 (?).
Zojoji is one of two head temples (daihonzan 大本山) of the Jodo-Shu sect of Japanese Buddhism. Jodo-Shu is a Buddhist sect and populist movement that started in the 12th century under the influence of Honen (法然 1133 – 1212), and grew to be one of the largest Buddhist sects in Japan even today. Jodo-Shu has two head temples, the first being Chion-in in Kyoto, Japan1 and the second in Tokyo at Zojoji that was founded during the late-medieval Edo Period as the family temple of the Tokugawa Shoguns.2
Zojoji is a pretty large temple within Tokyo, so it’s hard to miss. It’s main hall (hondō 本堂) is clearly visible as you pass through the gate. Inside the main hall is the central altar devoted to Amida Buddha, the Buddha of Infinite Light and central figure of Pure Land Buddhism:
Note that the temple is not always open for photography, especially if a memorial service is underway (would you allow people to take photos of your relative’s funeral?), so if you visit, make sure to pay attention to signs. The Chion-in homepage has more details on temple etiquette and other interesting information.
Each side of the altar is flanked by a statue: one of Honen, the founder of Jodo-Shu Buddhism, and the other (not shown) of Chinese Pure Land Master, Shan-dao (善導 613 – 681), whom Honen was inspired by:
After exiting the main hall, there is a gift shop to the right, which is actually a temple annex with a famous Buddhist altar of its own featuring a black, carved statue of Amitabha Buddha in the center:
Outside the gift shop/annex is a small cemetery and stone path. If you follow the stone path, you’ll come behind the temple to the mausoleum of the Tokugawa Shoguns:
Mausoleums of some of the later Tokugawa shoguns
The early generations of the Tokugawa shogunal family are buried in a great mausoleum up in Nikkō, but later shoguns are interned here. It was interesting to see the graves of these shoguns who in the past were the leaders of Japan during the Edo Period (1600-1868).
About two blocks away, behind the temple, is the famous broadcast tower of Tokyo Tower (tōkyō tawaa, 東京タワー) which was built in 1958. At the time, it was the largest broadcast tower in the world, though it has long been surpassed by other towers. Nevertheless, it remains a cultural icon.3
Tickets up to the observation tower are cheap and include many nice views.
My daughter standing over a glass floor on the Tokyo Tower observation deck looking belowZojoji Temple as seen from Tokyo Tower observation deck
One last thing we like to do at Tokyo Tower is to see try the limited edition “Tower Burger” by Mos Burger:
Despite the picture, the burger is actually somewhat smaller than expected (and it’s a actually a chili burger), but it’s quite good:
Zojoji Temple and Tokyo Tower are a pair of sites we regularly visit every year and always have a good time as a family.
Hopefully, after the lockdown, you all can someday visit too. 🗼
1 I visited Chion-in way back in 2005, and it had a big impression on me at the time leading to my eventual interest in Pure Land Buddhism, but Zojoji was something I only started visiting recently. Despite my recent rant about Jodo Shu Buddhism, the reality is is that it still has a special place in my heart and Zojoji Temple is just a great temple to visit, regardless of who you are. My wife and I regularly joke that it’s our spiritual “power spot”. 😊
2 Contrary to popular belief, samurai as a whole were not devotees of Zen Buddhism. The relationship between the samurai class and Buddhism is long and complicated, but suffice to say different warlords had their preferences and patronized different temples according to those preferences.
One of the most popular and widely chanted sutras in the Pure Land Buddhist tradition is the Amitabha Sutra (阿弥陀経, amida-kyō in Japanese) which is known by scholars as the Smaller Sukhāvatīvyūha Sūtra. This sutra is a brief overview of Amitabha Buddha, his Pure Land, and why one would want to be reborn there (spoiler: the Dharma permeates everything, so one naturally progresses along the Buddhist path).
In the past, I’ve tried to chant the Amitabha Sutra using certain sutra books I brought back from Japan, but the font is hard to read as a foreigner, and so I frequently get stuck. Because the font is so small, sometimes I can’t tell if something says ぼ or ぽ for example, and in some books, the phrase 一切 (issai) looks like いつさい (itsusai) instead of いっさい (issai). I don’t know if native speakers have this issue, but it’s frustrating. Further, there not many chanting guides online for the Amitabha Sutra except English and chanting in English is kind of ugly.1
So, to make my own life easier, I made a rōmaji (romanized Japanese) version of the Amitabha Sutra: click here to download.
It’s not really very pretty, but it’s meant to be easy to read and functional. Note that depending on the Buddhist sect, some Chinese characters may be pronounced slightly different.2 Also, the bell ringing style may vary slightly, too. The version I transliterated here was from a sutra book published by the Nishi Honganji (home temple of Jodo Shinshu Buddhism), which I visited about 10 years ago on a guided tour. It was the most readable copy I had.
Speaking of which, I also restored an old recording of the Buddhist Churches of America chanting the Amitabha Sutra here (see previous post for details):
I have proofread the entire text at least once, so it should be accurate, however if anyone uses this and finds a mistake, please post a comment here.
Update: As of June 3rd, 2022, I have linked a new version of the chanting guide above. This guide includes format differences, and further edits and corrections, and should be an improvement over the old version.
Enjoy and namu amida butsu! 🖖
Edit: fixed broken link to PDF file.
P.S. I colored a small, small part of the text to reflect the different colors of lotuses said to be in the Pure Land.
P.P.S. Featured photo is the a reprint of the Taima Mandala with the Jodo Shinshu-sect crest at the top and bottom, Metropolitan Museum of Art, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
1 It’s a surprisingly tricky issue with sutra chanting in English: it lacks the steady rhythm that Sino-Japanese texts have, and when people try to force a rhythm onto it, it sounds clunky and artificial. I have been to a number of Zen meditation sessions where I see people try to chant the Heart Sutra in English, and it just never sounds very good. I can’t blame people for trying to make the text more accessible (which is pretty important), but I think this reflects the same reason why Japanese Buddhists don’t chant Buddhist texts in their native language (using liturgical Sino-Japanese instead): something just gets lost. Alternatively, I do sometimes read aloud sutras in English the same way that one reads aloud a poem. I find this works better for English, and still has a dignified tone to it, but the traditionalist in me still prefers using the older liturgical when possible because of its ties to the past and the unbroken tradition we now inherit.
2 In the first line of the Heart Sutra, kan ji zai bo sa(tsu) gyo jin, some sutra books pronounce the “tsu” in “satsu” and some don’t. Also, in the next line, is the phrase sho ken go un where in some sutra books I’ve seen “on” instead of “un”. Small divergences in pronunciation tend to reflect sectarian history in Japanese Buddhism, and aren’t really too much of a concern. If unsure, check with your temple and just chant what they chant.
Recently, I got into a debate online (that always ends well) about so-called “auxilliary” practices with some fellow Buddhists on an old, private discussion forum for Jodo Shu Buddhist teachings.
The debate started after someone on the forum asked about whether visualization of Amida Buddha was permitted in Jodo Shu, and I was not satisfied with the responses thus far which tended to strongly imply that it wasn’t worth doing, and that one should rely on the nembutsu only. I was somewhat annoyed by these replies, so I responded to the original poster like so (quoting almost verbatim here, minus some typographical editing):
In my experience, both Jodo Shu and the related Jodo Shinshu sects doctrinally focus on the spoken nembutsu only. I would argue though, that this “exclusive nembutsu teaching” is an idiosyncracy of Jodo Shu and does not always reflect the Pure Land tradition in general.
You are correct in that the Contemplation Sutra does teach an elaborate process for visualizing Amida Buddha, and this kind of visualization practice has been undertaken by monks, particularly in the Tiantai (Chinese) and Tendai (Japanese) sects among others. People tend to focus on a single passage toward the end of the sutra whereby reciting the name of Amida Buddha erases all karma, but in some monastic traditions, people have focused on visualization too.
It’s also true that there are parallel traditions for rebirth in the Pure Land that have nothing to do with the nembutsu, mostly in the esoteric tradition. Even today, Shingon Buddhism has visualization/chanting practices related to Amida Buddha that have little or anything to do with the nembutsu. Such parallel practices include such things as the Mantra of Light and various dharanis that sometimes appear in Zen traditions. Genshin, who was ironically a “patriarch” of the Jodo Shinshu tradition, listed many such methods in the Ojoyoshu, but in practice he recited the nembutsu like many other monks and nuns did during his time. Further, the 23rd chapter of the Lotus Sutra, clearly mentions rebirth in the Pure Land of Amitayus (Amida) Buddha through upholding the Lotus Sutra, not reciting the nembutsu.
I think most people would agree that the nembutsu tends to be the most simplest and straightforward, and thus people tend to treat it as the only viable solution in the so-called Latter Age of the Dharma. I think this is a bit of a leap, but if I were a priest and someone wanted to know more about the Pure Land, I would start by teaching the nembutsu too. It’s a great practice. On the other hand, I think it’s also important for people spiritually grow and if people want to branch out from the nembutsu, they should be able to do so without a sense of “guilt” caused by artificial, doctrinal orthodoxy. The reason, I think, is that the Pure Land tradition is more broad than the standard Jodo Shu/Shinshu narrative, and people who want to explore should feel free to do so.
Hope that makes sense,
Doug
Since my interest in Buddhism began in earnest in 2005, starting with Jodo Shu and Jodo Shinshu teachings, I have noticed a tendency for these two sects to dominate Pure Land Buddhist discussions among Western adherents. For a long time, I was also a fervent advocate, but I’ve since become wary of the exclusive approach taught by Jodo Shu/Jodo Shinshu Buddhism.
The heart of the issue, I believe, is the recitation of the nembutsu (念仏), the Buddha’s name, usually rendered as namu amida butsu (南無阿弥陀仏).
Jodo Shu and Jodo Shinshu sects treat this as the sole, exclusive practice and spend an inexhaustible amount of writing and research to assert this point. A cursory study of Jodo Shu/Shinshu literature will reveal that there isn’t much beyond this. The nembutsu is treated with an almost mystical reverence (which is especially amusing since such people are quick to reiterate that it’s not a mantra either). The “name” of Amida Buddha (myōgō 名号) is all-important and if you wish to reborn in the Pure Land of Amitabha Buddha, the only sure-fire method is to recite the nembutsu either as a practice (Jodo Shu) or as an expression of gratitude (Jodo Shinshu) for Amida Buddha’s grace already being extended to you. Beyond this, say adherents, nothing else really matters. Other practices in Buddhism may be conducive to you reciting the nembutsu, but have no merit or power beyond this. Even the Precepts aren’t particularly emphasized or important.
But, as I have learned from various sources, including my new book, this is a kind of revisionist history, and example of how prominent sects tend to dominate the conversation and cherry-pick only those things from the Buddhist sutras that bolster their view.
Further after some backlash, I explained further:
Within the context of Jodo Shu (and related sects), I agree that the position is that the nembutsu is the only essential practice. All other practices supplement it.
However, if you read the Three Pure Land sutras in their entirety, I believe that the authors suggested something slightly different. Take a look at this passage from the Larger Sutra (translation by Rev. Hisao Inagaki):
“For this reason, Ananda, sentient beings who wish to see Amitayus while in this world should awaken aspiration for the highest Enlightenment, do meritorious deeds, and aspire to be born in his land.”
and:
“Why do you not diligently practice good, reflect on the naturalness of the Way and realize that it is above all discriminations and is boundlessly pervasive? You should each make a great effort to attain it. Strive to escape from Samsara and be born in the Land of Peace and Provision. Then, the causes of the five evil realms having been destroyed, they will naturally cease to be, and so you will progress unhindered in your pursuit of the Way. The Pure Land is easy to reach, but very few actually go there. It rejects nobody, but naturally and unfailingly attracts beings. Why do you not abandon worldly matters and strive to enter the Way?”
I believe that the original authors of this sutra [were] advocating a more holistic approach toward rebirth in the Pure Land. It’s a similar message at the end of the Contemplation Sutra: spare no expense if you can.
The issue, I have observed, is that medieval Japanese monks had a tendency to read sutras literally and at face-value, because they were assumed to be the literal words of the Buddha (spoiler alert: they are not). It explains why they literally interpreted Dharma Decline as one of several 500-year periods, among other things. However, we’re living in the 21st century and have access to information they didn’t, so I believe it is beneficial to read the sutras critically, not literally.
Sure you can just recite the nembutsu, but why stop there? I believe that’s the message of both the Pure Land sutras and the Lotus Sutra ch. 2 when the Buddha says a person attains Buddhahood through a single nod to the Buddha or a single “hail Buddha”.
The intention of the Pure Land practices, I believe, isn’t just to get there; it’s part of the larger Mahayana-Buddhist theme of the potential of all beings to achieve Buddhahood and in turn help others still mired in Samsara. The Pure Land is one of many so-called “Dharma Gates” to accomplish this. The Pure Land “gate” just happens to be a particularly compelling one (full disclosure, I too recite the nembutsu).
But “the skies the limit” too, so don’t hesitate to adopt other practices if so inclined.
The danger of faithfully following a particular sect and its core beliefs is that you may well overlook obvious faults in logic, and may become complacent. You have to reassure yourself with “mental gymnastics” when faced by doubt or external criticism. My journey through Buddhism started as far back as 2005, and has taken plenty of twists and turns. At one point, I was even training for ordination as a lay priest in the Jodo Shinshu tradition. But in the end, I’ve become disillusioned by the narrow, sometimes dogmatic emphasis on the nembutsu to the exclusion of the larger Buddhist world and its array of practices and teachings. I can blame this doubt on my almost obsessive personal research at the time, but then again, changing your mind is the point of research. It’s OK to change your mind.
Looking back, I was kind of a fool in those days. I was so happy to have a Buddhist community around here like that, with a straightforward, accessible teaching, that I ignored the fact that it ran against the grain of my Buddhists beliefs. The desire to fit in was more important.
But it’s better to admit a sunk cost and move on, than to double-down. I left the community, somewhat abruptly, and floundered around for years (even deleted a blog or two at the time) until I eventually settled into the more holistic, Tendai-Buddhist practice I follow now, which includes the nembutsu, but a whole lot else too. I enjoy having a broader, not narrow, understanding of Mahayana Buddhism and its teachings, and the flexibility to practices various things in Buddhism without the guilt associated with “deviating” from the standard, orthodox teaching of the sect.
“Look, I already faced her once back when I believed in the throne, and it cost me everything. That’s what’s wrong with Asgard. The throne, the secrets, the whole golden sham.”
Valkyrie, “Thor: Ragnarok”
Much of the centuries of traditions, priesthoods, beautiful liturgy and the high quality books printed in English for budding Western communities are, if you scratch the surface and dig deeper, just a golden sham.1 That leaves any spiritual seeker with a dilemma: fall in line and find contentment, or learn what you can, apply what’s useful, and keep moving onward.
“Come, Kalamas. Do not go upon what has been acquired by repeated hearing; nor upon tradition; nor upon rumor; nor upon what is in a scripture; nor upon surmise; nor upon an axiom; nor upon specious reasoning; nor upon a bias towards a notion that has been pondered over; nor upon another’s seeming ability; nor upon the consideration, ‘The monk is our teacher.’ Kalamas, when you yourselves know: ‘These things are good; these things are not blamable; these things are praised by the wise; undertaken and observed, these things lead to benefit and happiness,’ enter on and abide in them.
trans by Soma Thera
The Kalama Sutta doesn’t mean you can just believe what you want, the Buddha is telling the Kalamas to think for themselves and weigh the teachings and traditions objectively against what they know to be good, right, beneficial and blameless. He is encouraging a kind of scientific observation.
So, if you ever feel pressure from your religious community to “toe the line” or that maybe you’re not a “good Buddhist (or whatever religion)”, stop and remember that the problem might not actually be you.
P. S. For the record, Jodo Shu Buddhism still holds a special place in my heart since it has been a long, and largely positive influence on my life. So I am grateful, but I’ve also moved on.
1 Of course, all of this could be just as easily said of many religious communities around the world.
A scene from the Genpei War, courtesy of Wikipedia
When religion and politics travel in the same cart, the riders believe nothing can stand in their way. Their movements become headlong – faster and faster and faster. They put aside all thoughts of obstacles and forget the precipice does not show itself to the man in a blind rush until it’s too late.
While reading my new book on the Ojoyoshu and its author Genshin, a highly influential Japanese Buddhist monk in the 12th century, I came across the story of two men who were very powerful at the time, and colluded to build the temple of Enryakuji, home of the Tendai sect, to become the most powerful religious institution at the time. This had some very negative unintended side-effects as we shall see, but first let’s see who these two men were.
The first was an ambitious monk named Ryōgen (良源, 912 – 985) who quickly embroiled himself in a generations-long simmering dispute between two rival factions of the Tendai sect: one based on the lineage of the Ennin: the sanmon-ha (山門派), and the other based on the lineage of Enchin: the jimon-ha (寺門派). Both Ennin and Enchin had been direct disciples of founder Saichō (最澄, 767 – 822). Interestingly, neither faction had major doctrinal differences between them, the dispute was entirely over who should run Enryakuji Temple. Ryōgen, who was from the Ennin / sanmon-ha lineage, overtly sought to push out and exclude rivals from the Enchin line from positions of power, until he eventually attained supremacy as the 18th head abbot (zasu, 座主) of Enryakuji Temple in 966.
The other man in this story was a nobleman named Fujiwara no Morosuke, who belonged to one of several competing branches of the Fujiwara clan for control of the Imperial throne. This most common strategy for controlling the throne at the time was through intermarriage with the Imperial family, and controlling the strings as regents for child emperors. In this case, Morosuke wanted to ensure that his pregnant daughter, Anshi (安子, 927-964), the consort of Emperor Murakami, would give birth to a son. He enlisted Ryōgen who had known his father in social circles, and Ryōgen agreed to undertake a lengthy 300-day Buddhist esoteric ritual to ensure safe birth of a son. Sure enough, Anshi gave birth to a son (later Emperor Reizei), and Ryōgen was greatly rewarded by Morosuke with prestigious positions and patronage against rivals at Enryakuji.
This relationship between the two profited both. From Ryōgen, Morosuke got spiritual protection, and influence over the powerful Enryakuji temple, while Ryõgen could further his plans to consolidate power at the temple with blessings from the powerful Fujiwara clan.
Ryōgen paid back Morosuke by appointing one of Morosuke’s junior family relations, Jinzen, to the prominent position of “bishop” within Enryakuji and then archbishop (sōjō 僧正) two years later. Jinzen was far too young to be an archbishop, and lacked past qualifications, but his connection to the Fujiwaran clan and Ryōgen were enough to make the promotion happen. Ryōgen appointed others similarly to his “inner circle” based more on loyalty to the Ennin faction than on qualifications, while pushing out more qualified rivals who belonged to the Enchin faction. This struggle came to a head later in 981 when a member of the rival Enchin line was appointed to an important position by the government. Protests, threats and rumors by monks spread quickly, and monks of the Enchin lineage felt increasingly unsafe and moved further down the mountain. By 991, armed monks (sōhei 僧兵)1 from the Ennin line (Ryōgen’s lineage) openly attacked the Enchin monks’ residences and they fled to a rival Tendai Buddhist temple named Miidera:
The political/factional rivalry didn’t end there though. Both temple complexes, along with several other major temples in and around the capitol, fielded armies of warrior-monks, and allied themselves with power noble families. Between Enryakuji and Miidera, the violence escalated until Miidera was burned down by warrior monks from Enryakuji 4 times in the 11th century, while Miidera warrior-monks attacked and destroyed places associated with the Ennin lineage.
By the time of the Genpei War in the last 12th century (more on that here), the temples were caught up in the larger struggle between the Taira and Minamoto clans with the Miidera Temple being burned down (yet again) and its monks fleeing with the retreating Minamoto clan.
All of this started with a lineage dispute between two disciples of the founder, Saichō, but gradually escalated as one side sabotaged the other politically and then, starting with Ryōgen, tapped into patronage from power noble families in order to drive out the other faction. This back and forth happened for decades and centuries, until both temples were repeatedly destroyed by warfare. The temporary political gains that Ryōgen received through Morosuke did little to actually solve the issue long-term and worsened things through factionalism. Monks, increasingly drawn into political battles, forgot their monastic training and engaged armed conflicts with other monks (or opposing samurai warriors in some cases) in total contradiction of the Buddha’s firm teachings against taking life, especially in the capacity as a monk.
As the book shows, not all monks at Enryakuji bought into this conflict. Genshin, for example, setup a retreat at the more isolated Yokawa region of Mt. Hiei for monks to focus on the Pure Land teachings and practices. In a sense, he just clocked out. Some monks just openly left to start new Buddhist sects (Honen, Shinran, Dogen, etc) or join them. Others just turned a blind eye to what was happening.
Nevertheless, the monastic system in Japan by the 11th and 12th centuries hadn’t just been plagued by “monks gone wild”; the entire system had totally gone off the rails.
Not surprisingly, although these sects survived the conflict and continued on into the later Kamakura and Muromachi Periods, their reputations were permanently tarnished, and even today enjoy far less prestige that newer, fresher sects that had less political muscle,2 and more mass-appeal. As researchers argue, the political sects at the time hitched their wagons with powerful noble families and profited from this, but when those families declined political, so did the temples.
A cautionary tale for future generations….
P.S. the book also alludes to an “acrimonious debate” in China between two factions of the parent Tiantai sect: the shanjia (山家, “mountain family”) and the shanwai (山外, “outside the mountain”). Unlike Japan, the struggle in China never led to open warfare, but the Tiantai sect suffered paralysis until the debate was resolved.
1 Warrior-monk armies were not exclusive to the Tendai sect, by the way. Other major sects around the capitol got tangled up in a weird kind of religious-political “arms race” with each other. Kōfukuji, the head of the still-powerful Hossō sect, fielded a powerful army and frequently threw their weight around, intimidating followers of the new Pure Land sect, while getting into armed clashes with Enryaku-ji, their rival Miidera, and later with newer Zen temples. The army from Enryakuji was also known for robbing the grave of Pure Land Buddhism founder, Hōnen (ironically a former Tendai monk) later. Centuries later, these warrior-monks were still harassing rival Buddhist sects (for example Rennyo’s community of the Jodo Shinshu sect, and Dōgen’s community of the Sōtō Zen sect) until they were finally wiped out (literally) by the infamous warlord Oda Nobunaga. For more on sohei warrior-monks and how they might look in Dungeons and Dragons role-playing, check out my other blog post.
2 The one prominent exception to this would the Jodo Shinshu sect, which did openly challenge Oda Nobunaga with a peasant army (ikko-ikki) of its own whose relationship to Rennyo was … complicated. Outside of war, Jodo Shinshu has also had a somewhat sketchy history of attacking critics such as the Zen monk Tetsugen through mob-violence.
George Romney’s “A Procession of the Damned”, courtesy of Wikipedia
In broad tradition of Mahayana Buddhism, there is a concept called “Dharma Decline”, or “The Age of Dharma Decline” or other such names. A few sutras in the Buddhist canon (out of literally hundreds) allude to this concept, but starting with the medieval period in Asia, it became a hugely influential idea that persists even today. Dharma Decline is vaguely reminiscent of the End Times beliefs in Western religion, though considerably less dramatic.
The idea is based on the earliest Buddhist teachings that the appearance of Buddhas, that is to say a fully-awakened being capable of teachings others the Dharma, is super rare but occurs in a somewhat cyclical manner. Ancient Indian thought believed the world to be very old and would come and go in cycles. In the same way, there would be periods of enlightenment and decline. This influenced Buddhist thought in that the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni (e.g. Siddhartha Gautama), was one of a long line of Buddhas to have appeared in the world.
This model doesn’t fit very well with the geological history of the Earth, since humans have only been around at most 2.5 million years, but it is what it is. 🤷🏼♂️
This notion was only mentioned in a few obscure sutras in the Pali canon, but was expanded further in Mahayana literature, such that world history would be divided into 5 phases (often conflated into 3) that in brief summary were:
The appearance of a Buddha, a period of great spiritual awakening and enlightenment. (e.g. the “turning of the wheel of the Dharma”). People are wise, live long, healthy lifespans, etc.
After the Buddha dies, the “wheel” starts to slow down more and more over time and the teachings of the Buddha become less and less potent. Quality of life gradually diminishes.
At some point of no-return, the wheel basically stops and the Buddha’s teachings fades and are corrupted so badly that society breaks down. Life at this point is short, brutal and saturated by ignorance.
The final period, also known as the Age of Dharma Decline, was the closest thing that Buddhist literature and culture had to an apocalypse. There was no dramatic sounding of trumpets, but the quality of life would worsen, life spans would be shorter, and no one would be able to practice the Dharma anymore for tens of thousands of years until another Buddha appeared.
In medieval Japan, the end of the Heian period was marked by terrible strife, warfare, famine, and by the time of the Kamakura period the social order had been totally upended when warlords seized power away from the Imperial family and the aristocrats in Kyoto. As a result, Buddhist thinkers at the time such as Honen, Shinran, Nichiren and others quite literally interpreted Japan as being in the end-times. This was a period of time, where monks would frequently interpret Buddhist sutras verbatim, just as Honen, Shinran and Nichiren all did. As described in such sutras, at some point the Buddhist teachings would no longer work, except perhaps this teaching or that. Take for example the ending of the Sutra on the Buddha of Immeasurable Life:
The Buddha further said, “I have expounded this teaching for the sake of sentient beings and enabled you to see Amitāyus and all in his land. Strive to do what you should. After I have passed into Nirvāṇa, do not allow doubt to arise. In the future, the Buddhist scriptures and teachings will perish.”
But, out of pity and compassion, I will especially preserve this sutra and maintain it in the world for a hundred years more. Those beings who encounter it will attain deliverance in accord with their aspirations
translation by Professor Charles Muller
The Lotus Sutra references the Age of Dharma Decline as well, for example in the 23rd chapter:
“If in the last five hundred year period after the Thus Come One has entered extinction there a woman who hears this sutra and carries out its practices as this sutra directs, when her life here on earth comes to an end she will immediately go to the world of Peace and Delight where the Buddha Amitayus dwells surrounded by the assembly of great bodhisattvas and there will be born seated on a jeweled seat in the center of a lotus blossom….For this reason, Constellation King Flower, I entrust this chapter on the Former Affairs of the Bodhisattva Medicine King to you. After I pass into extinction, in the last five hundred period you must spread it abroad widely throughout Jambudvipa and never allowed to be cut off….
translation by Professor Burton Watson
In light of all this, Buddhist teachers at the time actively sought that one thing that would they could still rely on in the dark age when everything else had fallen apart. For Honen/Shinran it was reliance on the Buddha Amitabha, for Nichiren it was the Lotus Sutra (and his innovative chant in praise of it).
This literal interpretation of the Buddhist texts also tended to favor exclusively Mahayana teachings at the expense of older teachings, since some early Mahayana sutras (cf. the Virmalakirti Sutra) tended to trash the “old guard” Buddhists. In the same way, Kamakura-Era Buddhism also tended to trash the old monastic establishment, which admittedly had grown pretty corrupt thanks to an unhealthy association with political power at the time.
The focus of these Buddhist sects was mass-appeal. The more venerable Buddhist teachings no longer worked due to the condition of the times (not the teachings themselves), and in line with Mahayana-Buddhist compassion towards all beings, these thinkers, among others like Ippen, tried to spread any teaching they could that would help the masses escape a terrible fate being reborn over and over in a world of strife and danger.
But what about other Buddhist sects in Japan at the time? In various degrees, the fear of Dharma-Decline affected them all, but some more than others. The old-guard sects like Tendai and Shingon Buddhism accepted the notion of Dharma-Decline, especially Tendai Buddhism.1Genshin’s influential Ojoyoshu was a Tendai-centered treatise on the importance of seeking the Pure Land in the Age of Dharma Decline.
Zen was not above Dharma Decline either.2 One one article on JSTOR,3 quotes Eisai, founder of Rinzai Zen, wrote:
The Prajñā, Lotus and Nirvana Sutras all teach the meditational practice of zazen for the last age. If it did not suit the people’s capacity in these latter days, the Buddha would not have taught this. For this reason, the people of the great Sung [Dynasty] nation avidly practice Zen. They err, who, in ignorance of zazen, hold that Buddhism has fallen into decline.
Having said all that, I think that there are some problems with the premises of Dharma Decline. This is *not* a criticism of Buddhist sects and teachers, but Dharma Decline itself.
First, the situation in Japan at the time that spurned Dharma Decline was based on specific historical events and the cultural environment at the time, but obviously this doesn’t apply to the rest of the world at the time. Where Japan saw societal decline, other societies probably prospered. Eisai’s comment about Song Dynasty China is interesting since the Song Dynasty was near its zenith, so tying Dharma Decline to political/historical events probably doesn’t make much sense anyway. Basically, it was a pretty subjective world viewpoint.
Second, as alluded to above, Dharma Decline, if taken at face-value, relies on a specific world-view in ancient India that doesn’t fit well into modern notions of historiography and geology. For example, lifespans are typically _longer_ than before, and humans haven’t been around long enough for a series of Buddhas to appear across the eons (kalpas). The quality of life is arguably *better* than before, not less, and the Buddhist community still has good Buddhist teachers, both famous and more local. Dharma Decline hasn’t really panned out as predicted in old Buddhist literature.
However, one can argue that since the appearance of Shakyamuni Buddha, there is a more general sense of decline, and this may very well be true.
The stock, five periods of increasing decline are too formulaic to realistically apply to anything, but the idea of things declining is very Buddhist. Afterall, all condition phenomena are inherently empty. Buddhism as a religious institution (not the Dharma itself) therefore would be subject to the same changes and decline.
Which leaves us with an awkward question: are Buddhist teachings based on Dharma Decline even relevant anymore?
It’s fair to say that Buddhism now is pretty different than it was in 5th century BCE India, but is it realistic to try and wind back the clock to that era? Are all the “cultural accretions” and innovations that have come since a bad thing? Or do they reflect Buddhism as a continuously evolving religion rather than a moribund one?
On the other hand, at what point does the religion change and evolve that it loses its original essence, that it doesn’t really reflect the Buddha’s teachings anymore.
This is just one layman’s opinion, but if I had to distill the Buddha’s teachings, it involves three facets:
Moral conduct – Buddhism has various “lists” of precepts, but they all tend to follow the same pattern: a blameless life of dignity toward oneself and others.
Cultivation – The Buddha definitely did not want followers being idle. Buddhism wasn’t meant to be a mental exercise. Everything from the precepts to meditation practices were meant to be training on some level or another.
Wisdom – The Buddha placed heavy emphasis on the importance of insight, not beliefs. Cultivation and moral conduct were both meant to facilitate this.
So, I suppose that if we’re looking for a measuring stick of various Buddhist teachings today, they need to be able to conform (again, just my opinion) to these general guidelines in order to still be a genuine continuation of the Buddhist tradition.
A literal reading into some of the Buddhist sutras (need I remind readers that none of them were written anything less than 400 years after the Buddha, some much later) isn’t really a good use of one’s time, but reflecting on them in the light of the general Buddhist principles outlined above helps put them into context, while still keeping on grounded here and now on one’s path.
But at the same time the tradition, warts and all, is important to Buddhism and shouldn’t be tossed out with the bath water. Nor need we be bound by it though.
1 Ironically, teachers like Honen, Shinran, Nichiren and Ippen were all former Tendai monks.
2 Contrary to what modern Zen Buddhists tend to think.
3 Stone, Jackie. “Seeking Enlightenment in the Last Age: Mappō Thought in Kamakura Buddhism: PART II.” The Eastern Buddhist, vol. 18, no. 2, 1985, pp. 35–64. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/44346128. Accessed 26 Feb. 2020.
Having been a Buddhist more or less since 2005, I’ve come to realize that there is no “magic” teaching or practice that you can follow to fruition and become a fully-awakened Buddha. Of course, it’s natural to start with one teaching/practice as your starting point, but in the end Buddhism is a holistic religion. Anything that interprets Buddhism otherwise is a doctrinal house of cards.
The quotation I posted above illustrates what I think is a more balanced approach to Buddhism whereby one’s goal is fixed on awakening, and different “tools” are employed toward that end. Because of the depth and breadth of Buddhism, many such tools exist, and sometimes what works at one point in life might not work in another. Further, these tools are not mutually exclusive.
One of the more interesting, and still commonly-used practices, in Japanese culture is the use of imperial reigns in place of years in the Gregorian calendar. This is most often used now when talking about generations or one’s birth year, whereas the Gregorian calendar is often used for other historical discussions or other such situations.
Prior to the Meiji Emperor, Japan used since antiquity a system where eras were frequently proclaimed especially after major events, disasters, etc. For example, Emperor Juntoku reigned from 1210 to 1221, but within that reign he proclaimed 4 eras:
Jōgen (承元, 1207–1211)
Kenryaku (建暦, 1211–1213)
Kempō (建保, 1213–1219)
Jōkyū (承久, 1219–1222)
The founder of Jodo Shu Buddhism, Honen was said to have died in the 2nd year of Kenryaku which maps to 1212 in the Western calendar. The 260+ year late-medieval Edo Period had more than 40 different era names within it (see Wikipedia for details).
However, this system completely changed with the reign of the Meiji Emperor ō (reign 1867 – 1912). The system was simplified such that each emperor had a *single* reign name, starting with the Meiji Emperor. Since then, there have 5 emperors total, and 5 reigns accordingly:
So, nowadays, when people in Japan talk about what year they were born, they might say “the 52nd year of Shōwa” or in Japanese shōwa go-jū-ni nen.
This also comes up a lot when people joke about different Japanese generations. My wife and I are born in the 1970’s, so we are “Showa” generation kids, by my kids who are half-Japanese are “Heisei” kids. Nowadays, there are even “Reiwa” generation kids now.
On TV documentaries and other sources, reign years are also frequently used alongside the Western calendar, so you get used to doing the math like so:
The first year of an Emperor is year 1, not year 0.
So, for example Heisei 3 is 1991 (1989 + 3 – first year of reign).
Shōwa 47 would be 1926 + 47 – first year of reign, or 1972.
Interestingly, Japan is not the only culture to have novel calendar systems based on the dates of rulers. Rome during the Republic had its own system. The ancient Roman calendar was confusing and imprecise until Julius Caesar fixed it in 46 BCE. However, in popular Roman culture, people told dates based on who the two elected consuls were that year. Just as Japanese know who the line of Emperors are in recent times (see above), Romans in those days remembered each year.
One might say something like “April 4th in the year that Pompey and Crassus were consuls” or “when Caesar and Bibulus were consuls” or something like that.
I often find these little cultural oddities interesting because they add “flavor” to a culture even if they’re not entirely practical. The Julian Calendar introduced by Caesar was a huge improvement over the old system, but I wonder if a little something also got lost in the process too. 😀
¹ Emperor Meiji reigned starting in 1867, but due to radical changes in Japan at the time, it wasn’t technically formalized until 1868.
(A reprint of Honen’s calligraphy, which I found in a Jodo Shu liturgy book)
For anyone who’s come across the Pure Land tradition in Buddhism, they will have almost certainly heard like terms “nenbutsu”, “nian-fo” and such. Pure Land Buddhism is a long, broad tradition within the even broader Mahayana Buddhism. But if I had to distill it into a 30-second explanation, the tradition is based on devotion to Amitabha Buddha, the Buddha of Infinite Light, who vowed to rescue all beings and enable them to also reach enlightenment more easily within the safety of his Pure Land. In the original Sanskrit, this Pure Land is called Sukhavati.
(warning: this post is a bit long … sorry)
Since Pure Land Buddhists are devoted to Amitabha, and aspire to be reborn in this Pure Land, a major focus is on how to get to the Pure Land. The Buddhist sutras that focus on the Pure Land offer a number of overlapping explanations, with some contradictions (more on that later). While all Pure Land Buddhists agree on the compassionate nature of Amitabha Buddha and the potential for Enlightenment for anyone reborn there, when we get to specifics, things get tricky.
Nowadays, the most common tradition is through reciting something called the nembutsu (Japanese) or nian-fo (Chinese), etc. Usually this a stock phrase such as:
Phrase
Language
Native Script
Nā-mó Ē-mí-tuó-fó
Chinese
Traditional: 南無阿彌陀佛 Simplified: 南无阿弥陀佛
Namu Amida Butsu
Japanese
Kanji: 南無阿弥陀仏 Hiragana: なむ あみだ ぶつ
Namu Amita Bul
Korean
Hanja: 南無阿彌陀佛 Hangul: 나무아미타불
Nam mô A Di Đà Phật
Vietnamese
n/a
…and so on. These all mean the same thing: “Hail to Amitabha Buddha”, but are just recited in different languages, and all of them adapted from the original Sanskrit phrase (which is not precisely known anymore) via Classical Chinese. Technically it’s not reciting the name only, and there are even other, more elaborate variations to this phrase, but this is the most common practice for devotees to the Pure Land.
The basis for this practices comes from two places, among others. First, in the Sutra on the Buddha of Immeasurable Life (a.k.a. “the Larger Sutra”) the 18th vow out of 48 of the Buddha-to-be is:
If, when I attain Buddhahood, sentient beings in the lands of the ten quarters who sincerely and joyfully entrust themselves to me, desire to be born in my land, and call my Name, even ten times, should not be born there, may I not attain perfect Enlightenment. Excluded, however, are those who commit the five gravest offences and abuse the right Dharma.
translation by Rev. Hisao Inagaki
and also the Contemplation of Amitabha Sutra, which at the very end lists the 9 grades of followers who will attain rebirth in the Pure Land:
‘…On the eve of death he will meet a good and learned teacher who will, soothing and encouraging him in various ways, preach to him the excellent Dharma and teach him the remembrance of Buddha, but, being harassed by pains, he will have no time to think of Buddha. Some good friend will then say to him: “Even if you cannot exercise the remembrance of Buddha, you may, at least, utter the name, “Buddha Amitayus.” Let him do so serenely with his voice uninterrupted; let him be (continually) thinking of Buddha until he has completed ten times the thought, repeating the formula, “Adoration to Buddha Amitayus” (Namah Amitabha Buddhayah, Namu Amida Butsu). On the strength of his merit of uttering that Buddha’s name he will, during every repetition, expiate the sins which involved him in births and deaths during eighty million kalpas. He will, while dying, see a golden lotus-flower like the disk of the sun appearing before his eyes; in a moment he will be born in the World of Highest Happiness….’
translation by J. Takakusu
So, when most people think of Pure Land Buddhism, this is what they think of: reciting the nembutsu/nianfo and aspiring to reborn in the Pure Land. This is how I understood it for a long, long time, too.
However, while reading my new book, I came to realize that this is only part of the story! It turns out that for much of Pure Land Buddhist history reciting the name of Amitabha Buddha was only part of the practice. For example, early proponents and teachers of Pure Land Buddhism in both China and India focused on Pure Land Buddhism as a form of meditation and visualization. Verbal recitation was supplemental.
This was, as with verbal recitation, also based on the same sutras. The Contemplation Sutra cited above is almost entirely devoted to detailed visual descriptions of the Pure Land and of Amitabha Buddha, among other things, and the benefits of fixing one’s mind on them in meditation:
‘When this perception has been formed, you should meditate on its (constituents) one by one and make (the images) as clear as possible, so that they may never be scattered and lost, whether your eyes be shut or open. Except only during the time of your sleep, you should always keep this in your mind. One who has reached this (stage of) perception is said to have dimly seen the Land of Highest Happiness (Sukhavati).’
translation by J. Takakusu
The verbal component, despite being singled out by later commentators, only occurs at the very end of the sutra.
Elsewhere, in the Amitabha Sutra (a.k.a. “The Smaller Sutra”), is the following line:
Shariputra, if there be a good man or a good woman, who, on hearing of Buddha Amitayus, keeps his name (in mind) with thoughts undisturbed for one day, two days, three days, four days, five days, six days, or seven days…
translation by Nishu Utsuki, The Educational Department of the West Hongwanji (1924)
And finally, the historically oldest Buddhist sutra that talks about Amitabha Buddha, the Pratyutpanna Samadhi Sutra, says:
The Buddha said to Bhadrapala, “If you hold to this method of practice, you will attain the samadhi in which all the present Buddhas appear before you. If a bhiksu, bhiksuni, upasaka or upasika wants to practice according to the prescribed method, he or she should strictly observe the precepts, dwell alone in a place and contemplate Amida Buddha of the western quarter where he lives now. According to the teaching received, one should remember: ten million kotis of Buddha-lands away from here, there is a land called ‘Sukhavati.’ Contemplate this land with singleness of mind, for a day and night up to seven days and nights. The seventh day having passed, one will see it.
translation by Rev. Hisao Inagaki
Examples of this in practice started in early Chinese-Buddhist history with the famous monk Zhiyi who founded the highly influential Tiantai school. Zhiyi wrote a treatise called Mohe Zhiguan (摩訶止観, “The Great Contemplation and Abiding”) in which he laid out multiple practices for attaining samadhi (deep insight and concentration). One of these was called the “constantly walking samadhi” which involved circumambulating around a statue of Amitabha Buddha for 90 days without rest without stopping constantly reciting the Buddha’s name while holding a very detailed image of the Buddha preaching in the Pure Land.
Later, the focus shifted toward a more devotional practice in China starting with Tanluan (曇鸞, 476–542), one of the pioneers of Pure Land Buddhism. Tanluan wrote that in addition to arousing the aspiration to be enlightened:
If a son of good family or daughter of good family cultivates the five gates of mindfulness and perfects their practice, they will ultimately be able to gain birth in the Country of Peace and Bliss and behold Amida Buddha
translation by Robert F. Rhodes, “Genshin’s Ōjōyōshū and the Construction of Pure Land Discourse in Heian Japan”
Later, Daochuo (道綽, 562–645) reaffirmed the importance of awakening the aspiration for enlightenment, in addition to reciting the Buddha’s name at the time of death, and also by attaining the “nembutsu samadhi”. Robert F. Rhodes implies that this “samadhi” was a combination of reciting the Buddha’s name as a tool for fixing one’s mind on the Buddha.
This practice extended into medieval Japan. The picture below is from an early work of Japanese Buddhist art attributed to a Nara Period-era monk named Chikō (智光, 709 – 770 or 781) who belonged to the Japanese branch of the San-lun (Sanron in Japanese) sect of Buddhism.
The “Chiko Mandala” (智光曼荼羅) depicting the Pure Land of Amitabha Buddha, attributed to Chikō. This version is a copy made in the Kamakura Period, while the original was made centuries earlier in the Nara Period.
Chikō wrote in the Muryōjukyōron Shaku (無量寿経論釋, “Commentaries on the Treatise on the Sutra of Immeasurable Life”):
There are two types of nembutsu. The first is the mental nembutsu (shinnen 心念) and the second is the vocal nembutsu (kunen 口念)….As for the vocal nembutsu, if you lack the power (to undertake the mental nembutsu), use your mouth (to recite the nembutsu as a means) to remain mindful of the buddha and to prevent your mind from becoming distracted. In this way, you can achieve mental concentration.
translation by Robert F. Rhodes
What’s interesting is that all of these monks, both in China and in early Japanese history, focused on Buddhist practices that focused primarily on visualization in keeping with the sutras, but that the verbal recitation as a complementary or support practice. This is further complicated in Asian languages because the Chinese characters for nenbutsu/nianfo are 念仏1 whereby 念 refers to the mind (e.g. thoughts, feelings, etc) and 仏 is the generic term for a Buddha. So, this can mean things like “bringing a Buddha (usually Amitabha) to mind”, or “recalling a Buddha”, or “holding a Buddha in one’s thoughts”.
The Taima Mandala, another famous Pure Land “mandala” from that era. More on that in another blog post.
To further complicate things, as we’ve seen above, this recalling of the Buddha is often conflated with the Buddha’s name since that presumably requires one to think of the Buddha as one is saying. This often happens so much so that when most people talk about the nenbutsu/nianfo, they’re talking about the verbal recitation only. This trend was further accelerated in 12th Century Japan when populist Buddhist movements such as Jodo Shu and Jodo Shinshu started. In order appeal to as many people as possible, meditation aspects of the Pure Land were eschewed and complete reliance on the name of Amitabha (e.g. verbal nembutsu) in some way or another became the core practice. At times in Japanese-Buddhist history, the name itself has become an object of meditation, but only so much. Pure Land Buddhist became much more widely popular after this time, but at the cost of the streamlining the practice to the verbal nembutsu only, then justifying this approach retroactively in various writings.
One thing that we haven’t touched on yet is the fact that many of these visualization practices were written by, and practiced by, the monastic community. The monastic community was the target audience since the monastic community comprised of bikkhus (monks) and bikkhunis (nuns) who had given up worldly pursuits in order to devote themselves full-time to practicing the Buddhist path full time. While the history of Buddhist monasticism even to the present day has its scallywags, there were monks and nuns who really did try to put these various meditation exercises, circumambulations, and verbal+visual practices to use.
But this leaves us with a problem: what is the Nembutsu? Is it the meditative practice, or the recitation?
It’s clear from the early tradition that the visual/meditative nembutsu was the intention, but it’s also clear that over time this proved elaborate and impractical, hence later generations have emphasized the verbal nembutsu, even though the meditative nembutsu is more inline with the overall Buddhist tradition.2. This leaves a tricky conundrum: expediency vs. efficacy (or doctrinal orthodoxy).
My $0.02 as a non-ordained, amateur Buddhist with too much time on his hands (and who doesn’t want to get sued) is that both are still needed. Mahayana Buddhism in the early years seems to have suffered a tendency of trying to “out-do” itself over and over in the literature until the practices and levels of attainment simply weren’t realistic anymore. A look at the Sutra of the 10 Stages within the massive Flower Garland Sutra will frighten all but the most dedicated Buddhists. Not surprisingly, as these teachings established roots in China (and cultures on its periphery), a culture that was radically different from India, reaction movements like Zen and Pure Land and Tiantai schools arose to basically “fix this”. Like software patches to fix the initial release.
But I think the core essence of the Pure Land tradition is still important and we can still learn from it, but not necessarily be bound by it. Nor do we have to follow the strict orthodoxy of newer “populist sects” either. They were products of their time, and outlook on the world, and not all of it applies to now.
In any case, meditation practice is still one of the most fundamental practices in Buddhism, and it doesn’t have to be a terrible slog either as described in places like in the Contemplation Sutra. In the excellent book The Way to Buddhahood, but the late Venerable Yin-Shun, he spent some time explaining how basic visualization meditation works. I’ll post this in a separate article, but the gist was that one should hold an image of Amitabha (or any Buddha or Bodhisattva) that one has seen (e.g. from a work or art, etc) in mind as they meditate. This is similar to mindfulness of the breath, but visually oriented. One can also supplement with reciting the verbal nembutsu as well.
At the same time, it’s easy for this practice to get in the way of itself. People who are perfectionists or suffer from “imposter syndrome” will begin worrying about their inability to focus their mind, doubt that they’re making progress, etc. In other words, their self-doubt and unrealistic drive to perfection will get in the way. This could happen just as easily with any other form of Buddhist practice, though. It does require a little bit of, dare I say it, faith in the practice and the Dharma, but also faith in oneself. 😉
Because Buddhist practice has a therapeutic side to it, I think it’s important to keep the practice simple, realistic, flexible and even a little pleasant. Not pleasant in the sense of whacked-out mental states, but in the sense of a calm, abiding joy. Find an image of Amitabha Buddha you like, find inspiration in the beautiful images of the Pure Land described in the Amitabha Sutra, find a reasonable period of time in your day (3 minutes, 5 minutes, whatever) and just try it. You can refine the process as you go, so long as you keep the right intentions in mind.
Meditation, like all Buddhist practices, is a process of emotional growth, insight into things, and fostering goodwill toward others. As long as you keep these things in mind, the rest will work itself out one way or another.
May the Light of Amitabha Buddha shine upon all beings! Namu Amida Butsu.
1 in traditional Chinese characters, it is written as 念佛. You’ll see this in places like Taiwan, but even in Chinese/Japanese temples and sources that predate the reformation of Chinese characters.
2 meditating on Buddhist figures is nothing new. Even Shakyamuni said there was some value in contemplating his own form, though he also downplayed the devotional side quite a bit.
I am very excited to get this book in the mail the other day. I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had much free time, but I finally got to start reading last night and it was worth the wait.
The book, titled Genshin’s Ōjōyōshū and the Construction of Pure Land Discourse in Heian Japan by Robert F. Rhodes. This is a book that looks at medieval Pure Land Buddhist thought before schools like Jodo Shu and Jodo Shinshu arose. Genshin (源信; 942 – 1017), the famous monk and central topic of this book lived during a period of explosive growth in Buddhist thought in Japan, which was being imported in waves from China and Korea, and helped develop Pure Land Buddhist thought more than before. His most famous work, the Ōjōyōshū (往生要集, “The Essentials of Rebirth in the Pure Land”) went on to influence later generations of Buddhists, but there’s almost 0 information in English about it. People just kind of naturally assume that Pure Land Buddhism began in Japan with people like Honen and Shinran, but it’s already clear in the book that there was already a lot more that went on leading up to the 12th century. Because of the tendency for Jodo Shu/Jodo Shinshu Buddhism to dominate the conversation in modern-day Buddhist discourse (not just in English) sometimes these details are obscured or forgotten.
This book has been sitting in my wishlist for years, but it’s always been a bit too expensive to purchase, even as a used book, but with things looking up a little this year, I finally decided it was time. I have some personal questions that I would like to get some guidance on, but also I want to flesh out some details here on the blog and on Wikipedia (the Genshin article is awfully short).
Stay tuned!
Namu Amida Butsu
P.S. Subsequent posts about Genshin and this book can be found here, here, here and here.
Way back when in 2005, I got my first exposure to Pure Land Buddhism in the city of Kyoto at a famous temple named Chion-in, where I saw a lone monk chanting evening prayers before a statue of the Buddha. Something about that moment made a real impression on me and I carried that back to the US, where I found some good resources on the Jodo Shu school of Pure Land Buddhism.¹ As a zealous new follower, I started out reciting the nembutsu (or, “namu amida butsu”) almost daily. I would often recite using my double-ringed rosary 1080 times in roughly 15 minutes intervals, sometimes more than one.
Back when I was living on a smaller budget, I made a Buddhist altar using a balsawood box lid and an image of Amitabha Buddha taped on the inside.
But then life happened: I got busier with work, raising two kids, etc. By and by my recitations have gotten fewer and fewer, and further and further apart.
Some Buddhists that I meet are shocked when I tell them that there are weeks where I don’t recite the nembutsu at all, and sometimes I myself have gone through periods of regret and guilt over this. At such moments, Imposter Syndrome rears its ugly head and I wonder if I should quit Buddhism.
But where does all this come from and why does it matter?
A slight upgrade from the previous altar we used while living in Ireland from 2008-2009. The statue is a souvenir from the Great Buddha of Kamakura.
Unlike some religions based on a single book, Buddhism has a large collection of “sutras” which are reputed to be sermons of the Buddha that have been passed down.² For Pure Land Buddhism, the core sutra is the Sutra on the Buddha of Immeasurable Life sometimes called the “Larger Sutra”, which is the largest of the three Buddhist texts that are central Pure Land Buddhism. You can’t have Pure Land Buddhism without the Larger Sutra, basically.
The Larger Sutra, among other things, is an origin story (think: Marvel comic superheroes 😋) of Amitabha Buddha, the Buddha of Infinite Light. As part of this origin story, it is said in that sutra that Amitabha Buddha made 48 vows that he would accomplish before completing his quiet for Enlightenment,³ but traditionally the most important is the so-called primal vow or 18th vow:
設我得佛。十方衆生至心信樂。欲生我國乃至十念。若不生者不取正覺。唯除五逆誹謗正法
(18) If, when I attain Buddhahood, sentient beings in the lands of the ten quarters who sincerely and joyfully entrust themselves to me, desire to be born in my land, and call my Name, even ten times, should not be born there, may I not attain perfect Enlightenment. Excluded, however, are those who commit the five gravest offences and abuse the right Dharma.
(trans. by Professor A.C. Muller)
Honen, who was something like the father (or grandfather?) of Pure Land Buddhism as a distinct sect in Japan, gathered a large array of followers and disciples, both monastic and secular, and among these disciples there was a broad spectrum of interpretation.
Chion-in Temple in Japan is famous for its large “sanmon” (山門) gate. I took this photo on our second visit to Chion-in in 2010. Chion-in is one of two head temples or “daihonzan” (大本山) of the Jodo Shu sect of Buddhism, the other being Zojoji in Tokyo.
At one extreme end among Honen’s followers was Kōsai (幸西, 1163 – May 20, 1247) who briefly started a movement called the “One-Recitation Doctrine” (ichinen-gi, 一念義). The idea was that if one truly had faith in Amitabha Buddha, they would recite only once and entrust Amitabha Buddha’s compassion from there forward. Even if one lived a rotten life thereafter, if they maintained that faith, they would certainly be reborn in the Pure Land. Shinran, who later founded the off-shoot Jodo Shinshu sect, leaned in this direction, but under his 8th successor, Rennyo, this idea was further developed. For Rennyo, reciting the name of Amitabha Buddha was really nothing more than an expression of gratitude toward the Buddha’s compassion. This sense of faith and gratitude underscores a lot of Jodo Shinshu (and general Japanese-Buddhist) thinking even in modern times.
At the other end was Ryūkan (隆寛, 1148 – January 21st, 1228) who led the “Many-Recitation Doctrine” (tanen-gi, 多念義) who felt that the name should be recited constantly. This was a tool to help fix one’s mind on Amitabha Budha, accumulate more and more positive karma which paved the way for rebirth in the Pure Land, but also an affirmation of Amitabha’s vow. In medieval times, both in China and later Japan, this could mean tens of thousands of recitations per day for monks and nuns. Even lay people were encouraged to recite as much as was reasonably possible as long as it didn’t affect one’s livelihood. Benchō (弁長, June 20, 1162 – March 16, 1238) who went on to found the main “Chinzei branch” of the Jodo Shu sect leaned in this direction, though arguably took a more middle-of-the-road approach. Nevertheless, Bencho did expound the value of reciting the Buddha’s name as a routine practice.
Honen, himself, tried to strike a balance between these extremes with the following quotation attributed to him: (source)4
Again, to say that frequent repetitions of the nembutsu [the Buddha’s name] mean the encouragement of the principle of self-power (jiriki) shows total ignorance of facts and is an awful mistake. Even one repetition or two of the sacred name can be said to be the nembutsu of salvation by one’s own power, if one does it with that thought in one’s mind. But a hundred or a thousand repetitions day and night for a hundred or a thousand days can be the nembutsu of salvation by Amida’s power alone (tariki), as long as one does it with an entire trust in the merits of the great Vow, looking up in confidence to Amida with every repetition.
as well as:
Honen once said, “It’s important that you should never forget the repetition of the nembutsu. Keep it in mind continually. Even though you do impure things or speak impure words, it is a fine thing to keep your heart pure and to say the nembutsu over and over again without stopping it even for a moment. If you go on repeating it at all times and under all circumstances, it will finally bring you to ojo [往生, rebirth in the Pure Land] – no doubt about it.”
So, Honen definitely seems to lean closer to the “many recitations” camp, but only so long as one does it with faith in mind. Dry, repetitions for the sake of just doing it, or some contrived strategy, doesn’t really mean much. On the other hand, Honen also seems to imply that there’s always value in reciting the nembutsu, even if one’s heart is not entirely in it.
In other writings, Honen warned that relying too much on faith tended to make one lazy and risk back-sliding. Too much reliance on practice might make one forget the power of Amida’s vow.
Back to the original question, Honen and other past Pure Land teachers definitely implied some kind of daily practice, as a way of avoiding complacency if nothing else. For monks that often meant hours and countless thousands of repetitions per day, while the answer was more vague for lay followers. The expectation was that followers would adapt it somehow into their lives and recite at a suitable cadence. However, a daily routine was only as good as one’s devotion to Amitabha Buddha. It is important not to let the practice get rote or stale, so Honen even encouraged the occasional “nembutsu retreat” where one would shut themselves from the world for a bit for extra contemplation and recitation.5
As for me, perhaps it’s time to revisit my practice and make a new commitment. I wrote this post partly for my own benefit, but also for new Pure Land Buddhists who may be struggling with a sense of inadequacy in their own practice. Imposter Syndrome is a real thing, and it gets in the way of Buddhist practice. Reciting the nembutsu even once a day is much better than not doing it at all, or doing it in lengthy “bursts” that wear one out and aren’t sustainable.
Like a river that slowly shapes a valley, even small bits of Buddhist practice applied over a very long period of time can have a powerful outcome.
¹ I’ve visited Chion-in again some years later, and it was still great. We also visit the other head temple of Jodo Shu Buddhism, Zojoji near Tokyo Tower yearly as well. It’s our “power spot” as the Japanese say: our place to spiritually recharge. More on that in another post.
² Sutras in Buddhism are a complicated topic for another day, but all you need to know is that there are a lot of them, covering various subjects, composed at different periods of time, and reflecting different times and places in Buddhism. The idea isn’t so much that they represent literal sayings of the Buddha, but that they “rehash” and retell the Buddhist teachings across the generations. Think of it like a famous TV or movie franchise, which reboots itself from time to time. Sometimes the reboots are good, sometimes they’re lousy, but they’re still the same basic story retold over and over.
3 Also known as the path of the Bodhisattva, but that’s a story for another day.
4 The site is long gone, sadly, but the Wayback Machine has an archive of the site. The updated Japanese-only site is here.
5 As opposed to modern Buddhist “retreats” that cost thousands of dollars and are sometimes led by monks of questionable ethics. Indeed, Honen’s disciple Bencho once famously remarked:
People maintain that the best place for a life of retirement is the Kokawa Temple or Mount Koya. But as for me, there is nothing to compare with the bed from which I rise every morning.
Truly, the best Buddhism is the Buddhism you carry with you every day.🥰
Gleanings in Buddha-Fields 
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