The Problem of the True and the False in

Contemporary Shin Buddhist Studies:

True Shin Buddhism and False Shin Buddhism1

Takamaro Shigaraki

Professor Emeritus

Ryukoku University, Kyoto

I. INTRODUCTION

Issues Facing Shin Buddhist Studies Today

TODAY, IN THE EARLY STAGES of this new twenty-first century, the

walls of our national borders are gradually starting to fall. As we cross over

these national boundaries, we find ourselves entering an age in which

people, cultures and religions will all have to engage in a broad range of

interchange. It has been my experience that, in the midst of this situation,

a growing number of persons from outside of Japan are taking interest in

Japanese Buddhism, and particularly in Shin Buddhism. In this new age,

Shin Buddhism must be able to open itself up even more widely to the

world. In spite of that, however, the doctrinal study of Shin Buddhism

today remains mired in a conservative traditionalism. As long as it remains

that way, it will never be able to mesh fully with the aspirations of the

people of the world. The world is looking toward Shin Buddhism with

heart-felt expectations. Yet, as long as it fails to attempt to become modernized

and globalized, all of those hopes will certainly end in disappointment.

This is what I have been feeling quite keenly, as of late.

I would also like to ask this question of Shin Buddhism: Just what

message does it have for contemporary society and how does it intend to

respond to the myriad problems of today? Our twenty-first century scientific

culture is now exposing a variety of contradictions within human life.

Certainly, those aspects that fail to take account of the human intellect are

being severely brought into question. In addition, an assortment of new

themes have arisen, including bio-ethics and environmental ethics, as well

as the problems of peace, human rights and other issues that are common

to all humanity. In that sense, the present situation requires the involvement

of religion within it. However, how on earth is Japanese Buddhism—

and we must include Shin Buddhism here—going to be able to respond to

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the truly perplexing problems of this new twenty-first century? If I might

offer my frank opinion, it is very uncertain whether it will likely be able to

do so. If Shin Buddhism is unable to say anything in regard to the new

problems found in today’s globalized society, then inevitably it will find

itself abandoned not only by persons from outside of Japan, but also

eventually by the Japanese people themselves.

Thus, Shin Buddhist Studies of today is directly faced with the problems

of a new globalized society, and it is being asked how it will respond

to them. More than anything else, I believe that Shin Buddhism of today

and the future must cast off its traditional framework, which not only

deviates from fundamental Buddhist principles, but also consists of convenient

interpretations of them from institutional or sectarian levels. Shin

Buddhism must be restored as a truly Buddhist school. As long as it fails to

do so, it will be unable to respond to today’s societal problems or to issues

that are global or international in scope. A variety of recent experiences

have convinced me of this.

Posing the Problem of the True and the False in

Contemporary Shin Buddhist Studies

Contemporary Shin Buddhist Studies must clearly return to the fundamental

purport of Shinran and to the true Buddhist teachings. However,

prior to that Shin Buddhism must face the task of addressing the problem

of what teachings it considers to be true and false. That is to say, we must

be able to construct a clear theory for discerning and distinguishing “true

Shin Buddhism” from “false Shin Buddhism.” Shinran had earlier made

critical classifications vis-à-vis traditional Buddhist teachings and other

Japanese religions of his era, distinguishing between “true,” “provisional”

and “false” teachings. Today, the same kind of clear discernment of “true,”

“provisional,” and “false” teachings must be made, in a way that accords

with the actual situation that Shin Buddhism finds itself within. Since time

will not permit me to take up this entire issue today, I will not touch upon

the discussion of “true” versus “provisional” teachings. Instead, I would

like simply to present a few of my thoughts regarding “true” versus “false”

Shin Buddhism.

As we consider the problem of the true and the false in Shin Buddhism,

what basic standard should we apply in order to distinguish between true

Shin Buddhism and false Shin Buddhism? The first consideration should

be whether or not Shin Buddhism is clearly grounded in the logic of the

East, or, that is, in the logic of Mahayana Buddhism. Secondly, we must

consider whether Shin Buddhism is being interpreted through the logic of

the Primal Vow, as it is set forth in the Muryøjukyø (the Larger Sutra of the

Buddha of Immeasurable Life), the fundamental Pure Land sutra. Third,

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 29

we must take up the question of whether or not it correctly comprehends

the fundamental purport of Shinran himself. Any criteria or logic that falls

outside of these three considerations ought to be excluded. Yet, these three

points are not very clear in today’s understanding of Shin Buddhism. What

is evident instead is the blending of Shin Buddhist thought with sectarian

and institutional ideologies. It is here that an array of problems

exists.

Thus, a Shin Buddhism that correctly corresponds to the three theoretical

points above is what we can call, “true Shin Buddhism.” Any form of

Shin Buddhism that contravenes those principles must be called, “false

Shin Buddhism.” It is not possible to avoid the fact that Shin Buddhism of

today deviates in large part from those standards. I must firmly assert that,

unless Shin Buddhism can return to its original state and take a correct

stance with respect to these three principles, then, without question it will

soon forfeit its societal and international position, and be reduced to just

another Japanese folk religion.

It is from this context that I would like to discuss the contents of a

theory of the true and false in Shin Buddhism. Although there are many

ideas that I would like to take up along this line, time is limited, and so I will

address the problem of the distinction between “true Shin Buddhism” and

“false Shin Buddhism” from the perspective of three questions. They are:

1. Is Amida Buddha an Entity or a Symbol?

2. Is Shinjin in Shin Buddhism Non-dualistic or Dualistic?

3. Is Shin Buddhism a Religion of Power or a Religion of Path?

II. IS AMIDA BUDDHA AN ENTITY OR A SYMBOL?

The Formation of the Pure Land Teachings

I will first consider the question of whether Amida exists as a substantial

entity, or a symbol. The conclusion that I will draw is that Amida

Buddha exists as a symbol and that, as long as it is taken to be a substantial

entity, there could be no “true Shin Buddhism.”

Let us first take a brief look at the formation of the Pure Land Buddhist

teachings. The notion of Amida Buddha can be identified with a stream of

Mahayana Buddhist thought that arose around the first century of the

Common Era—some five hundred years after the death of Ûåkyamuni

Buddha. On this question there remain many unresolved issues from an

academic standpoint, although scholarly research has made numerous

recent advances in this area. Speaking only from my own understanding,

it appears that after his death Ûåkyamuni’s body was cremated by his

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followers, who then divided the bones and ashes into eight parts and

passed them on to other Buddhist followers. Stupas were then constructed

to house the relics, which became the objects of Buddhist worship. With the

passing of time, these stupas multiplied, and groups of Buddhist followers

were formed, centering on such stupa worship. Undoubtedly, such groups

must have included renunciant monks. In large part, however, the groups

were made up of lay devotees, whose role it was to worship and maintain

the stupas. Before long people began making pilgrimages to the stupas,

and a belief system centered on stupa worship was born.

Gradually, within this current of beliefs and practices, a form of

Ûåkyamuni worship came to be promoted. It was based on the notion that,

although Ûåkyamuni Buddha left this world at the age of eighty, his life and

the enlightened content of his life eternally continue to guide beings. As a

result of this, the concrete human image of Ûåkyamuni eventually disappeared,

and the idea of his new Buddha-body—Amida Buddha—was

born. This then developed into the worship of Amida Buddha.

Amida Buddha is said to be the Buddha of immeasurable light

(Amitåbha) and immeasurable life (Amitåyus). The basis for this idea rests

in ideas and expressions in praise of Ûåkyamuni Buddha’s virtues found in

stories about the Buddha’s life. According to them, Ûåkyamuni might have

passed on from this world, but his true life is immeasurable, and his

teaching—his light—has unlimited reach. Hence, he continues to guide

beings even now. The concepts extolling the eternal nature of Ûåkyamuni’s

life (his vertical axis) and the unlimited breadth of his light (his horizontal

axis) eventually developed into the idea of a new and independent Buddha-

body. We can see, for instance, that Ûåkyamuni’s beginnings as a

prince overlaps with the narrative of the Larger Sutra, in which the

Bodhisattva Dharmåkara is said to have originally been a king. Or, as

another example, the Larger Sutra tells of fifty-three Buddhas that existed

prior to Amida, starting with a Tathagata named “DΔpamkara,” which is

identical to the name of the Buddha said to have been Ûåkyamuni’s teacher

in the distant past. In this way, we can see that on many points the Amida

narrative must have been based on the life story of Ûåkyamuni. It is quite

evident that the idea of Amida Buddha arose as an extension and sublimation

of Ûåkyamuni worship.

Amida Buddha as Symbol

In that sense, it is possible for us to say that Amida Buddha is a

symbolic expression of both Ûåkyamuni Buddha’s life and enlightenment,

as clarified by Ûåkyamuni’s teaching.

The word “symbol” contains a number of problems. However, I am

now using it simply to refer to the use of analogy and other expressions in

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 31

the worldly dimension that use secular concepts to point to an ultimate,

world-transcending truth. Ultimate truth or world-transcending existence

is a reference to the content of the enlightenment realized by Ûåkyamuni

and to the ultimate reality that he expounded. In Shin Buddhist terminology,

it could also be said to refer to Amida Buddha’s Primal Vow. This is

the basic concept of the word “symbol.”

A symbol represents a means or method of pointing to a worldtranscending,

ultimate truth. Accordingly, since a symbol must always be

expressed in an analogical and worldly manner, at some point also it must

necessarily be negated. This, then, is the fundamental meaning of the word

“symbol.” By negating worldly ideas even as it utilizes them, a symbol

guides us to ultimacy, which transcends this world. Both “life” and “light”

are worldly concepts. However, when both are expressed as “immeasurable,”

they then point to that which transcends this world. The word “life”

basically refers to a life spanning from birth to death. However, when

expressed as “immeasurable life,” it could be said to transcend all worldly

concepts. The phrase “immeasurable light” acts in the same way. Since the

existence of “light” would illuminate the darkness, “unlimited light”

would mean that no darkness could exist. That, however, would not be

possible in this world. Here then is an attempt to talk about a worldtranscending

ultimacy by negating the worldly concept of “light,” even

while utilizing it.

In Någårjuna’s MahåprajñåpåramitopadeΩa (Commentary on the

Mahåprajñåpåramitå S¥tra) 2 we find the phrase, “Rely on the meaning,

not on the words.” Shinran cites this passage in the Chapter on Transformed

Buddha-bodies and Lands of his Kyøgyøshø monrui (True Teaching,

Practice and Realization).3 Here Någårjuna provides an easily understandable

illustration involving the moon and a finger. Since we human

beings always look downward when we walk, he says, we do not see the

beautiful, brilliant moon in the heavens. Someone then taps us on the

shoulder and, with his finger, indicates that we should look up at the

beautiful moon in the sky. This is the so-called illustration of the “finger

pointing to the moon.”

Någårjuna explains that the finger represents “words,” while the

moon represents “meaning.” “Meaning” here refers to true meaning, first

principle, or true essence. As we have seen above, it corresponds to the life

of Ûåkyamuni and the content of his enlightenment. In this illustration,

ultimate truth is represented by the moon. Since we are not able to grasp

this first principle directly, we are directed toward it by words and

language—by the finger, or, symbol that points us toward the moon.

Någårjuna urges us not to mistake the finger for the moon. He tells us

not to confound words and meaning, that is, not to mistake the secular

words that are used to point to ultimate truth for that truth itself. We are

able to see the moon because of the finger. However, we should not look at

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the finger and think that it is the moon. This is the meaning of the phrase,

“Rely on the meaning, not on the words.” Here, the topic of our discussion

is the significance of symbols. The Buddha-body called “Amida,” that

Buddha’s Name, and all of the other words in the Sutra are all nothing more

than “fingers.” None of them constitute the “moon” itself. The entire

content of the Sutra and the teaching of Amida Buddha’s Primal Vow are

expressed symbolically so that we can know the moon itself.

This idea can be more precisely explained by referring to the late Paul

Tillich’s understanding of symbols. Born in Germany, Tillich was a wellknown

Protestant theologian who spent the latter part of his life in America.

I would like to offer a summary of my own understanding of his splendid

explanation of symbols.4

For Tillich, first of all, a symbol is something that points to ultimate

truth, which transcends the secular world. Thus, Amida Buddha, Amida’s

Name, all of the words in the sutras, as well as hell and the Pure Land are

all symbolic expressions that point to an ultimate, world-transcending

truth. Secondly, however, at the same time that a symbol points toward

something, it also exists in a profound relationship with the thing itself.

This is an important point, I believe. The finger points to the moon, and

because of the finger we are able to look up to the moon for the first time.

However, the finger is not simply a finger. It is because the finger is bathed

in the light of the moon that, for the first time, the finger can engage in

finger-activity, which is to point to the moon. The activity of the finger itself

would not be able to exist in complete darkness. It is because the moon

gives off light that the finger can exhibit finger-activity for the first time. In

this sense, a symbol participates profoundly within ultimacy. It is none

other than the self-expression of the ultimate.

Tillich’s third point is that we can encounter ultimate truth or

world-transcending reality for the first time through symbols. Needless

to say, were it not for symbols we would not be able to encounter

ultimate truth or Amida Buddha. Fourth, Tillich says that a symbol

reveals the deepest levels our own, individual spirit. A familiar example

might be that, if we continuously worship before a Buddha image

everyday of our life, eventually our eyes will be opened to the transcendent,

ultimate reality behind the image. Yet, at the same time, our spirit

(or, spirituality) gradually becomes cultivated through this process.

These four points, I believe, reflect the fundamental meaning of symbols

in Tillich’s thought.

Further, when discussing the transmission of symbols, Tillich states

that a symbol must constantly be re-interpreted within every era and

society. According to him, a symbol necessarily arises within a certain

historical or societal context. The formation of the notion of Amida Buddha

is a case in point. We do not know who produced the Larger Sutra.

Although the Sutra indicates that it was expounded by Ûåkyamuni, he had

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 33

in fact died five hundred years prior to its development. However, even

though we do not know who expounded the notion of Amida Buddha in

the Larger Sutra, the Sutra had to have arisen within certain necessary

historical and societal circumstances. I mentioned earlier that Amida

worship probably arose out of circumstances involved in stupa worship.

Tillich might say that, because it arose within a particular situation, Amida

Buddha as a symbol could become extinct when those conditions greatly

change. Thus, the length of a symbol’s life could be extended and the

symbol thus transmitted, depending on how it is re-interpreted in various

era and societies. I am in complete agreement with this idea.

If such a re-interpretation is not skillfully done, however, the symbol

would not be transmitted, and it would fall into decline. It would be

reduced to a mere shell of itself, stripped of content or purpose. It would

become nothing more than a magical incantation, and would lose its life for

all eternity. Is this not, in large measure, the current state of Japanese

Buddhism today? Today, Buddhist images and paintings have become

exhibition pieces, lined up for display at museums. Previously, life continuously

flowed within those images, as they served to nurture the spirits

of a great many persons. Today, however, they have been completely

reduced to simple skeletons and show pieces. Not only that, the names of

Buddhas or Buddhist scriptures originally pointed beings to ultimate

truth. Yet now, more than just a few of them have, in various forms, become

nothing more than magical incantations. In Shin Buddhism as well, a reinterpretation

and re-transmission of its symbols must be courageously

attempted and accomplished in the midst of the actual conditions of

today’s society.

This kind of re-interpretation of symbols can be clearly seen in Shinran’s

thought. In the twelfth month of his eighty-sixth year, Shinran gave a

sermon to Kenchi, a disciple who had gone to visit him at his temporary

residence on Sanjø street in Kyoto. The topic of Shinran’s Dharma message

was jinen høni, in regard to which he explained,

Amida Buddha fulfills the purpose of making us know the significance

of jinen.5

Here the word “significance” (yø in Japanese) indicates a state of

affairs, aspect, situation, circumstances, and indication, as well as form and

the inner reality of that form. The phrase “fulfills the purpose” (ryø in

Japanese) refers to a factor or element, or, a method or means used for the

purpose of accomplishing something. In the context of our present discussion,

this refers to symbol. Thus, according to Shinran, Amida Buddha is

the symbol that fulfills the purport of making us know the truth of jinen. In

other terms, jinen refers to ultimate truth, which flows throughout heaven,

earth, and the universe. This truth pervades all of human history. It is the

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universal principle that penetratingly includes both human beings and the

entire universe. Ûåkyamuni awakened to, realized, and then taught this

truth. Amida Buddha is the symbol—the finger—that enables us to know

the significance of this truth. Some two thousand years ago, Någårjuna

correctly expounded a Buddhist semiotic theory, and Shinran, nearly eight

hundred years ago, further clarified this notion of symbols.

In this way, Amida Buddha and the Name are nothing more than

symbolic expressions; they are fingers pointing to the moon of ultimate,

universal truth and reality. What is important for us is to experience and

awaken to this ultimate truth, which lies on the far side of the moon. Yet,

there is great question as to whether this is fully understood by traditional,

institutional doctrinal studies.

Erroneous Interpretations in Traditional Doctrinal Studies

Today’s traditional doctrinal studies give absolutely no consideration

to this understanding of Amida Buddha as symbol, that is, as a finger

pointing to the moon. As a result, proponents of traditional Shin Buddhist

doctrinal studies have a tendency in large measure to apprehend the Name

of Amida Buddha as a substantial entity. One example of this can be found

in the concept that “the Name and its substance are not separate” (myøtai

funi). This notion was originally discussed in a text entitled, Anjin ketsujøshø

(On Attaining the Settled Mind),6 a work of unknown authorship. According

to current research in the area, the text is thought to have likely been

associated with the Seizan branch of Jødosh¥. Kakunyo apparently long

possessed his own copy of the text, and Rennyo is said to have compared

the importance of the text to the unearthing of gold. As a result, the text has

been accorded particular importance within the Hongwanji branch of Shin

Buddhism as well. In the doctrine that “the Name and its substance are not

separate,” the Name refers to a designation or appellation attached to a

thing. Substance means the thing itself, or its actual state. Thus, the notion

is that the appellation attached to a thing and the substance of the thing

itself are not separate; rather, they constitute a single entity.

I have a recollection that relates to this. Long ago, when I was still a

student, a certain professor made the statement in a lecture on Shin

Buddhist Studies that the Name of Amida Buddha is such that the “Name

and its substance are not separate.” To explain what this meant he wrote in

a large size the kanji character for “fire” on the blackboard. Touching it with

his hand, he said, “Gentlemen. Although I place my hand on this character

it is not hot.” I remember wondering what he was talking about. Next, he

placed a piece of white chalk in his mouth and made the gesture of lighting

a cigarette. “No matter how many times I do this, it will not light.” Finally,

he stated, “When we speak of names in this world, they are all simply

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 35

appellations and have no substance. Thus, the character for ‘fire’ is not hot;

you cannot light a cigarette with it. However, the Name of Amida is not like

that. The Name, as it is, is perfectly endowed with substance. Thus, the

‘Name and its substance are not separate.’” Even now I can clearly remember

that professor’s gestures. Yet, my thoughts then (and now) were that

this kind of thinking turns Shin Buddhism into nothing more than a kind

of belief in magical incantations. Yet, isn’t this kind of idea still being

preached in Shin Buddhist sermons even now? If that is so, then shinjin in

Shin Buddhism has become nothing more than a belief in magic.

It is also imprudent to try to understand, preach about, or propagate

Shin Buddhism using ideas or terminology not seen anywhere in Shinran’s

works, but instead that are based on a classic book of unknown authorship

and produced by another Buddhist school. That could not be considered

Shin Buddhism. Moreover, the implication of the theory that the “Name

and its substance are not separate” is that Amida Buddha exists as some

kind of substantial entity. Hence, Amida’s significance as a symbol becomes

lost.

Doctrinal studies of the Hongwanji branch have produced yet another

concept that takes Amida Buddha to be a substantial entity. It is the theory

that the “Name is stamped (in the minds of beings) and arises as shinjin”

(myøgø ingen). This theory appeared during the Sangø wakuran conflict

that occurred near the latter stages of the modern era. In the midst of the

conflict, Daiei of the Aki province wrote a text entitled, Øchø jikidø kongø

bei,7 in which he criticized the theory of “taking refuge in the three karmic

modes of action” for promoting a shinjin of self-power. Daiei asserted that

shinjin, as set forth in Shin Buddhism, arises when the Name is “stamped”

into the minds of sentient beings. According to this idea, the Buddha

inscribes on his hand the Name, “Namu Amida Butsu” in reverse-image

characters so as to be able to confer it on sentient beings. When the Buddha

stamps it onto the “white paper” of sentient beings’ minds, shinjin arises in

them. Thus, shinjin is said to appear when the Name is stamped onto their

hearts and minds. According to this theory, shinjin in Shin Buddhism

comes about when one receives the substantial entity of the Name, in which

the “Name and its substance are not separate.” This idea that the “Name is

stamped in the mind of beings and arises as shinjin” is still being discussed

in books written by Shin Buddhist scholars and sold commercially today.

It is frequently mentioned in the sermons of Shin Buddhist preachers. This

is an inexcusable misinterpretation of the Shin Buddhist understanding

that shinjin is to become free of self-power and entrust in Other Power.

What can be done to counter these erroneous views? We must resolutely

return to the starting point of Shinran’s teaching, and seek to learn the true

Shin Buddhist teaching.

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III. IS SHINJIN IN SHIN BUDDHISM

NON-DUALISTIC OR DUALISTIC?

The Original Meaning of Shinjin in Shin Buddhism

Next, I would like to examine the question of whether shinjin in Shin

Buddhism is non-dualistic or dualistic. My conclusion will be that shinjin

in Shin Buddhism should be understood from the standpoint of the nondualism

of Mahayana Buddhism.

The original meaning of shinjin in Shin Buddhism emerges from the

words pertaining to shinjin in both the passage of the Primal Vow and the

passage on the fulfillment of the Primal Vow. The Vow passage presents it

as “entrust with joy” (shingyø), while the fulfillment passage explains it as

“shinjin and joy” (shinjin kangi). We can inquire into the original meaning

of these phrases by referring to the Sanskrit version of the Larger Sutra.

There, we find that the original meaning of shinjin is citta-prasåda. Citta

indicates one’s heart and mind, while prasåda means that joy arises in the

mind when it becomes pure and clear. When the mind becomes clear,

things can be seen within it. This state of mind has connections with the

sphere of samådhi, in which our deluded passions are transformed. It

refers to the supramundane realm, which transcends this world.

Shinran certainly could not have known of these original Sanskrit

terms. However, I believe that he fully understood their essential meaning.

In the Chapter on Shinjin in his text, Kyøgyøshø monrui, Shinran explains

that “entrusting in joy” means that one’s mind is “completely untainted by

the hindrance of doubt.”8 Here, the “hindrance of doubt” is a reference to

ignorance and deluded passions. Thus, since shinjin is not tainted or mixed

with the “hindrance of doubt” it indicates a realm in which one has become

freed of ignorance and where one’s deluded passions have been transformed.

The concept of the “hindrance of doubt” can be seen throughout

Buddhist literature. For instance, one can find it explained in detail in

introductory texts to Tendai thought. Since in his early years Shinran

studied Tendai doctrine, I believe that he must have frequently come upon

the term “hindrance of doubt” and fully understood its doctrinal intent.

With this as his background, he later explained that “entrusting in joy” or

shinjin is “completely untainted by the hindrance of doubt.” In a variety of

senses, shinjin can be taken to mean that one has become free of ignorance

and that deluded passions have been transformed. For instance, with this

passage in his Shøshin nembutsuge (Hymn of True Shinjin and the

Nembutsu), “The darkness of our ignorance is already broken through,”9

Shinran offers us a clear description of the realm of shinjin.

In explaining shinjin, Shinran uses phrases such as “the wisdom of

shinjin”10 and “shinjin that is unsurpassed wisdom.”11 In a similar way, he

states,

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 37

[K]now that since Amida’s Vow is wisdom, the emergence of the

mind of entrusting oneself to it is the arising of wisdom.12

In this sense, the arising of shinjin is the arising of wisdom. By learning the

Buddha-dharma, our ignorance and deluded passions are gradually transformed,

and a new eye is opened. We come to see things anew. In other

words, shinjin is the “experience of awakening,” which transcends the

secular world. Hence, shinjin does not mean to believe in something in a

dualistic or objectifying manner. The meaning of shinjin is always that of

a non-dualistic, or, subjective state of mind.

Originally, when shinjin was spoken of in simple terms, it was unavoidably

described in relation to an object, such as “having faith in Amida

Buddha” or “entrusting in the Primal Vow.” As a result, Shinran’s Japanese-

language works almost always express shinjin as being addressed

toward some object. However, the Chapter on Shinjin elucidates shinjin of

Shin Buddhism in terms of Mahayana logic. There, it should be noted,

shinjin is clearly discussed in a manner that is non-dualistic, or, subjective

in nature.

To say that shinjin is the experience of awakening means, in a more

concrete sense, that we awaken to the compassion of the Tathagata. Not

only that, we also awaken to the depths and weight of our own karmic evil,

which is illumined by that compassion. “Awakening” means that our eyes

are opened in the direction of the light. Yet, at the same time, our eyes are

also opened to the darkness in which we had been wandering up to this

moment. The “experience of awakening” possesses this kind of two-fold

directionality. This is also the structure of shinjin.

Shinjin as the Experience of Awakening

Let us discuss the structure of shinjin, and its inner reality, in a slightly

more concrete way. The Eighteenth Vow of Amida Buddha (the Primal

Vow) ends with this oath, “(If they) should not be born there, may I not

attain the supreme enlightenment.”13

Concretely, this means that our attainment of birth and Amida Buddha’s

attainment of supreme enlightenment come about simultaneously. This

notion has been long described with the phrase, “birth and supreme

enlightenment are of one essence” (øjø shøgaku ittai). According to the

words of the Vow, the Buddha states, “I will enable you to be born without

fail. If you should fail to be born, I will never attain Buddhahood.” Hence,

the import of the Primal Vow is that as long as we are not saved, the Buddha

Amida will not exist. This the problem implied by the idea that “birth and

perfect enlightenment are of one essence.” This problem developed into a

major theme in Shin Buddhist doctrinal studies from the Tokugawa period on.

38 Pacific World

How is this problem interpreted in traditional doctrinal studies? A

number of other issues are also involved here, but basically most of the

approaches have made a dualistic distinction between “our” attainment of

birth and the Buddha’s attainment of supreme enlightenment. Even today,

many persons hold to this understanding. For instance, later in the Sutra,

it states, “Since he attained Buddhahood, about ten kalpas have passed.”14

According to this, Amida had already become a Buddha ten kalpas ago in

the distant past. Traditionally, this has been interpreted to mean that

Amida has already become a Buddha, at a time prior to our attainment of

birth. In his Jødo wasan (Hymns on the Pure Land), however, Shinran

comments on this Sutra passage with this phrase,

But he seems a Buddha more ancient than kalpas countless as

particles.15

In other words, for Shinran, the existence of Amida Buddha—the Buddha

of Immeasurable Life—originally began in the beginningless past. This

would imply that Amida Buddha is eternally coming toward the secular

world and manifesting itself in that world. As a consequence, Amida

Buddha has no existence outside of our own subjectivity, or, our own

shinjin.

However, in traditional doctrinal studies this problem has been separated

dualistically into questions of logic and fact. Amida Buddha’s prior

attainment of supreme enlightenment ten kalpas ago in the distant past is

said to establish the logic of the possibility of birth. On the other hand, our

remaining in the world of delusion without actually attaining birth is an

issue of fact. Hence, the difference between logic and fact is likened to the

difference between the existence of medicine and our taking of it. Amida

Buddha’s attainment of supreme enlightenment means that the logic

through which sentient beings can attain birth has been fulfilled. The

medicine that will enable us to attain birth has been created. If we should

take this medicine our illness would be cured without fail. That is, we

would be able to attain birth.

Thus, according to traditional Shin Buddhist doctrinal studies, the

medicine of our path to birth has been created with Amida’s attainment of

supreme enlightenment. Thus, in effect, his work is over. What is said to

remain is an issue of fact: Will we take the medicine or not? Will we walk

the path or not? What remains is the problem of this self. Our task is to

answer the question of whether to take this medicine that has been given

to us already—that is, whether to progress along this path to birth. Thus,

it is said, the supremely enlightened Amida Buddha calls to us from the

Pure Land, “Come here! Come here!” What then is essential is that, in

response to that voice, we immediately accept without doubt the medicine

of the perfected, six-character Name.

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 39

However, is this really the purport of the Primal Vow? The passage of

the Primal Vow reveals, in contrast, the truth that “birth and supreme

enlightenment are of one essence.” That is, there is no Buddha apart from

me; there is no me apart from the Buddha. This self and Amida Buddha, as

well as our attainment of birth and Amida’s attainment of supreme enlightenment

are identical—of one essence. This theory of simultaneous arising

is a fundamental principle of Mahayana Buddhism. Accordingly, it is also

the truth of Amida Buddha’s Primal Vow. Yet, in traditional doctrinal

studies the idea of “one essence” is separated out in a completely

dualistic and objectifying manner. This is how Amida Buddha is grasped

in the traditional doctrinal studies of the Hongwanji branch of Shin

Buddhism.

On the other hand, the doctrinal studies of the Hongwanji branch also

discuss the notion of “innumerable attainments of enlightenment” (saku

saku jøbutsu). In this case, the one essence of birth and supreme enlightenment

is apprehended subjectively. The idea is that an individual Dharmåkara

Bodhisattva becomes manifest for each individual sentient being. That is to

say, an individual Dharmåkara Bodhisattva attains enlightenment in correspondence

with an individual person’s attainment of birth. Thus, innumerable

Dharmåkaras are unendingly attaining Buddhahood. This is the

meaning of “innumerable attainments of enlightenment.” We can fully

appreciate the fact that this interpretation seeks to grasp the problem in a

subjective way. However, we must also recognize that this interpretation

is an abstract one, which is removed from each individual’s subjective

experience of shinjin.

In sum, the issue essentially comes down to this: Unless I attain birth,

Amida Buddha will not exist for me. Shin Buddhism teaches that Amida

Buddha exists definitively for the first time—in the present moment and

for this self—only in identity with the experience of awakening, which is

the arising of shinjin. To say otherwise—to believe that Amida Buddha

already exists somewhere, to ponder over it and engage in a dualistic

search for an objectified Amida, and finally to accept that the Buddha must

exist somewhere—this is not shinjin as taught in Shin Buddhism. It is not

that, since Amida Buddha exists somewhere, we must believe in Amida.

Rather, it is that, within our experience of shinjin, Amida Buddha reveals

itself and becomes certain to us.

Guided by Shinran’s teachings and single-heartedly saying the nembutsu—

within this life of nembutsu and in the continuation and deepening of the

Buddhist path that it entails—we will eventually come to realize shinjin as the

experience of awakening. In shinjin, for the first time Amida Buddha comes to

exist indisputably for us. It is in the experience of shinjin that we can definitively

know the existence of both hell and the Pure Land.

40 Pacific World

Erroneous Interpretations in Traditional Doctrinal Studies

However, this sense that shinjin is a non-dualistic and subjective

“experience of awakening” is completely missing in the interpretations of

shinjin found in traditional Shin Buddhist doctrinal studies. In its place, we

find interpretations that are both dualistic and objectifying in nature. Such

erroneous interpretations clearly began with Kakunyo’s approach to Shin

Buddhism. In his youth Kakunyo had studied with the Seizan branch of the

Jødosh¥. As a result, his understanding of Shin Buddhism deeply reflected

the hues of the dualistic Seizan doctrines. This included his understanding

of shinjin.

Kakunyo asserted that the meaning of shinjin was to “take refuge and

submit to” or “take refuge and rely upon” the Buddha. That is, for him it

meant that one must wholeheartedly take refuge in Amida Buddha.

Furthermore, he stated that it was necessary to have as a mediator a “good

teacher” who was a member of Shinran’s blood lineage. This good teacher,

he maintained, would function essentially as a “living Buddha” or as the

“official representative of the Tathagata.” By taking refuge in the good

teacher in this way, one would be able to “take refuge in and submit to” or

“take refuge in and rely upon” Amida Buddha.

Kakunyo’s eldest son, Zonkaku, also offered various explanations of

Shin Buddhist doctrine in his voluminous writings. Like his father, he had

also been influenced by the teachings of the Seizan branch of Jødosh¥.

Thus, he identified shinjin with a person’s “taking of refuge” in the

Buddha. In his text, Rokuyøshø (Notes on the Essence of the Six-fascicle

Work)16, Zonkaku’s explication of the significance of shinjin appears to be

based on general Buddhist literature, such as commentaries on the

Abhidharma-koΩa and the Ch’êng-wei-shih-lun. In fact, however, Zonkaku

is simply attempting to draw meaning from mere fragments of the literature,

often applying his own, forced readings upon them. This technique

leads him to assert that the meaning of shinjin is really to enjoy hearing the

Buddha-dharma (aigyø).

In this way, not long after Shinran’s death shinjin came to be interpreted

in a completely dualistic or objective sense, as the “mind that takes

refuge and submits to” or the mind is able to “take refuge” in the Buddha.

From this point on, distortions in the understanding of shinjin in Shin

Buddhism began to take place. By Rennyo’s time this sort of dualistic

understanding of shinjin had come to be thoroughly accepted. This could

be seen in the expression, “I entrust in the Buddha to save me” (tasuketamae

to tanomu). From an early age, Rennyo took the position that the Japanese

word “tanomu” (entrust or rely) was an appropriate translation for the

word, “shinjin,” and in his later years he used the word extensively. For

instance, he states in a Letter,

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 41

[W]hen we have the thought of clinging firmly to Amida Buddha’s

sleeve without calculation and entrusting ourselves to the Buddha to

save us in the life-to-come, the Amida Tathagata will deeply rejoice.17

Clearly, shinjin is understood here to be a state of mind that is in a dualistic or

objectifying relationship with Amida. We are able to see that this was in reality

something completely foreign to the original sense of shinjin—that of cittaprasåda—

as well as shinjin in the sense of Shinran’s expression that, “the

emergence of the mind of entrusting oneself to it is the arising of wisdom.”18

Next, let us take a look historically at the interpretations of shinjin made

within the doctrinal studies in the Hongwanji branch since the Tokugawa

period. On the whole, they can be separated into two schools of thought: the

K¥ge school and the Sekisen school. According to Zenjø, a representative

scholar of the K¥ge school, shinjin is to “rely upon and put one’s trust in the

Name.” This was typical of the dualistic interpretations of shinjin. In contrast,

Søe, a Sekisen scholar, stated that shinjin means that “the mind becomes pure

and clear. That is the nature of shinjin.” This view represented an excellent

understanding of Shinran’s purport—the original meaning of shinjin in Shin

Buddhism. Yet, the Hongwanji branch labeled Søe’s doctrine as heterodoxy,

and completely rejected it. The dualistic K¥ge school became mainstream of

Hongwanji thought, and remains so even today.

In sum, the prevailing understanding of shinjin that is found in the

Hongwanji branch of Shin Buddhism was inherited from Kakunyo and

Rennyo. According to this view, the sole practice in Shin Buddhism is the

Name. Shinjin means that one takes refuge in, abides by and receives the

Name of Dharmic-substance. In the Øtani branch of Shin Buddhism, by

contrast, the understanding of shinjin was inherited from Zonkaku. In this

view, the practice of Shin Buddhism is to say the nembutsu. Shinjin refers

to one’s active reliance on the practice of the nembutsu.

Despite their apparent differences, the doctrinal interpretations in

both branches essentially amount to nothing more than dualistic or objectifying

understandings of shinjin. Needless to say, then, our task today is

to correctly study the significance of shinjin as expressed in the passage of

the Primal Vow in the Larger Sutra, as well as the significance of shinjin in

Shinran’s thought.

IV. IS SHIN BUDDHISM A RELIGION OF POWER OR

A RELIGION OF PATH?

The Fundamental Standpoint of Buddhism

Next, I would like to address the issue of whether Shin Buddhism is a

religion of power, or a religion of path. My conclusion is that Shin Bud42

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dhism corresponds to the latter. It constitutes a religion of path and is not

concerned with power.

The fundamental principle of Ûåkyamuni Buddha’s teaching can be

seen in the contents of his first sermon—the “first turning of the Dharma

Wheel”—after his attainment of enlightenment. It was there that he expounded

the teaching of the Middle Path. After his birth as a prince,

Ûåkyamuni had spent long years in pursuit of pleasure within his castle

walls. However, he came to have doubts about this way of life, and so he

left his kingdom and assumed the life of a renunciant. For the next six years

he utterly abused himself physically, as he undertook austere practices in

the hope of achieving spiritual independence. However, he later engaged

in a critical reconsideration of the two extreme paths of pleasure and

hardship. As a result, he changed his mind and sat beneath a bodhi tree,

there deeply pondering the fundamental truths of the universe and human

existence. He became aware that both a life in pursuit of pleasure and a life

of complete austerity were erroneous. Not only was it wrong to live a life

solely directed by instinct or desires, but it was also wrong to live by

abusing oneself physically in order to negate one’s desires. He then

awakened to the truth that the genuine path for human life was the

“Middle Path”—a path of neither pleasure nor pain. This Middle Path

did not simply lie between pleasure and pain. Instead, the paths of both

pleasure and pain were to be rejected. With the rejection of both

pleasure and pain, one would come to live one’s life based on the

negation of both. Ûåkyamuni taught that it was here that a true and real

human life could come about.

In later years, this teaching of the Middle Path underwent numerous

changes and developments, becoming, as it were, the tenet a number of

Buddhist schools. In this sense, the way of life that Shinran exemplified—

that of being “neither a monk nor one in worldly life,”19 or, as I wish to

phrase it, “neither true nor worldly”—developed out of Ûåkyamuni’s

teaching of the Middle Path. What this means is that the life of a nembutsu

follower is one of “pain” and “aspiration.” To live within shinjin in Shin

Buddhism means that our life is neither “true” nor “worldly.” As we reflect

on the present condition of our life—lived in disregard of the Buddhadharma—

we cannot help but feel a sense of “pain.” Yet, at the same time,

as we reflect on the present condition of our life—submerged and buried

in the secular world—we constantly “aspire” to be able to draw nearer to

the Buddha-dharma. This way of life, which Shinran described as “neither

priest nor one in worldly life,” is based on the Middle Path, which Ûåkyamuni

expounded in the first turning of the Dharma Wheel.

In that first sermon Ûåkyamuni Buddha then went on to give a concrete

explication of the Middle Path through his teaching of the Four Noble

Truths and the Eightfold Noble Path. This represents, fundamentally,

both a challenge to us and an instruction on how we could live a genuine

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 43

human life. How could we, in our present state of being, come to realize

our ideal self—the self that we ought to be? Ûåkyamuni Buddha revealed

to us the way—the path that would lead to our attainment of

enlightenment.

By inheriting this teaching as well, Shin Buddhism sets out a path upon

which we can attain Buddhahood. This was Shinran’s purport when he

stated that,

Attaining Buddhahood through the nembutsu is the true essence

of the Pure Land Way.20

[O]ne who entrusts oneself to the Primal Vow and says the nembutsu

attains Buddhahood.21

It is in this sense that we can say that Shin Buddhism is a religion of path.

The path of human fulfillment, or, human maturation, in which one singleheartedly

says the nembutsu, and with that nembutsu gradually casts off

the skin of one’s old self and realizes true growth as a human being—this

is the path of Shin Buddhism. On this path, this “not-so-human” self

becomes, little-by-little, a bit more human through the nembutsu. Directing

our sight to the Buddha and the far-off Pure Land, we come to realize

true human growth. This is the path of Shin Buddhism, the true essence of

the Pure Land Way.

Shin Buddhism is the Teaching of

“Attaining Buddhahood Through the Nembutsu”

The Shin Buddhist path for the attainment of enlightenment is the path

of the nembutsu. On this path, one says the nembutsu and realizes shinjin.

In today’s Shin Buddhist doctrinal studies, however, this sense of the

nembutsu has often been omitted. I was once shocked to hear of the distress

felt by a Shin Buddhist follower, who had been rebuked by a priest in this

way, “When you recite the nembutsu, that is not the practice of the

nembutsu!” This is a shocking statement, since the Shin Buddhism teaches

us first and foremost to say the nembutsu. A Shin Buddhist path that

neglects the nembutsu would be absolutely meaningless. It is through the

recitation of the nembutsu that the nembutsu opens up as shinjin. In other

words, by saying the nembutsu one realizes shinjin. The nembutsu is the

process and shinjin is the goal. However, at the same time, there can be no

shinjin aside from the nembutsu. This is the notion of the “oneness of

practice and shinjin” (gyøshin ichinyo), to which Shinran was referring

when he said,

44 Pacific World

True and real shinjin is unfailingly accompanied by [saying] the

Name. [Saying] the Name, however, is not necessarily accompanied

by shinjin that is the power of the Vow.22

[T]here is no nembutsu separate from shinjin. . . . There is no shinjin

separate from nembutsu . . . .23

Døgen said essentially the same thing in this regard. In Døgen’s thought

one realizes enlightenment through the practice of sitting meditation. Yet,

although practice is the process and enlightenment is the goal, at the same

time he comprehended that, “practice and enlightenment are identical”

(sh¥shø ittø). We can see that the structure of the path to enlightenment is

the same for both the nembutsu and zazen.

Since shinjin is realized in the true practice of the nembutsu, Shinran

also states,

To entrust oneself to the nembutsu is to already have become a

person who realizes wisdom and will attain Buddhahood.24

Note that Shinran does not say, “one becomes a Buddha.” Instead, he uses

the phrase, “becomes one who will attain Buddhahood.” Both Døgen and

Nichiren asserted, in contrast, that one becomes a Buddha in this body and

in this world. Although Døgen died at the age of fifty-two, he is said to have

already become a Buddha. On the other hand, Shinran lived until he was

ninety, but he was unable to attain Buddhahood in this life. Here we can

make an inference as to the severity of Shinran’s own critical self-scrutiny.

He could become a person who “will become a Buddha,” but he never

spoke of becoming a Buddha. We can also sense the thoroughness of

Shinran’s thought. However, be that as it may, he also taught us that we can

realize true human growth through the nembutsu. When this foolish,

inferior human being says the nembutsu, we grow, little-by-little, to be a

somewhat better human being. This is the meaning of shinjin.

However, this is not what the traditional doctrinal studies say. Rather,

what we are told is that, upon the attainment of shinjin, all that happens is

that our birth in the life-to-come becomes clear. Hence, our human nature

does not change at all. Or, we are told that we attain enlightenment only

upon birth in the Pure Land after death. But that is not the Shin Buddhism

that Shinran taught. What he made clear was that, as we say the nembutsu,

we come to be nurtured positively by that nembutsu, even in our current

state. Little-by-little, we individual human beings each cast off the skin of

our old self and realize true human growth. Shinran addresses this in his

text, Gutokushø (Gutoku’s Notes), where he gives the following explanation

of shinjin, based on the passage on the fulfillment of the Eighteenth

Vow of the Larger Sutra,

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 45

Concerning the entrusting of oneself to the Primal Vow, [to borrow

the words of Shan-tao,] “in the preceding moment, life ends . . . .”

This means that “one immediately enters the groups of the

truly settled” [T’an-luan].

Concerning immediately attaining birh, [to borrow the words of

Shan-tao,] “in the next moment, you are immediately born.”

This means that “one immediately enters the stage of the

definitely settled” [Någårjuna].

Further: “one is termed a definitely-settled bodhisattva.”25

The two main passages here are from Shan-tao. In those passages, the

phrases, “preceding moment” and “next moment” refer to preceding and

succeeding moments of time. In other words, the passage indicates that,

upon the realization of true shinjin (“entrusting in the Primal Vow”), our

life of delusion in the sahå world came to an end in the preceding moment

of time. In the succeeding moment of time, we “immediately” attain birth.

What this means is that, we receive the life of the Buddha and, from that

moment on, a new life in the Pure Land begins. This continues without limit

through the nembutsu.

This process of casting off our old self and realizing true growth as a

human being is continuously repeated and deepened. In this continuous

repetition and deepening of shinjin, a human being is able to achieve ever

more self-renewal and growth. Shinran described the person of shinjin as

a “definitely-settled bodhisattva” and a person who is “the equal of all the

Tathagatas.”26 In this sense, it could be said that Shin Buddhism is a

religion of path—a path that aims for true human fulfillment.

Erroneous Interpretations in Traditional Doctrinal Studies

However, this is not what is discussed in the traditional Shin Buddhist

doctrinal studies. Rather, what is presented there is a religion of power.

Shintø, the Japanese way of the kami, for instance, is a religion of power

since it merely entails prayers to the kami, with no discussion of its

teaching. After the death of Shinran, Shin Buddhism quickly joined leagues

with Shintø. We have already seen that trend in Kakunyo’s thought, and his

son, Zonkaku, united Shin Buddhism even more closely with Shintø.

Despite the fact that Shinran had been severely critical of that very union,

soon after he died Shin Buddhism embarked on a path that lowered it to the

level of Shintø, a Japanese folk religion. This can be clearly seen in Zonkaku’s

texts, such as the Shojin hongai sh¥.27 According to Zonkaku, the Japanese

kami could be divided into spirits of a variety of actual beings and

46 Pacific World

provisionally manifested deities. The former included animals such as the

kitsune fox or snakes, which the Japanese people had worshipped as kami

since ancient times. The latter referred to auspicious deities, including

certain eminent persons who were worshipped as kami.

In his early writings, Zonkaku rejected the worship of the former type

of kami, but claimed that the latter were in fact manifested forms of Amida

Buddha. Later, however, he took the position that all kami, including foxes,

snakes, or other actual beings were manifestations of Amida Buddha, and

he thus urged people to value them all. This trend of thought was even

stronger in Rennyo, who claimed that the meritorious power of all of the

kami was completely embodied in the Name of Amida Buddha.

Recent scholarship suggests that Rennyo apparently made an inscription

of the name of a heavenly deity—“Namu Tenman Daijizaiten” (“I take

refuge in the God MaheΩvara of the Tenman Shrine.” At that time, belief in

the Tenman Shrine was apparently flourishing. According to one record,

Rennyo’s children reverently held up his inscription of the name of the

heavenly deity. In addition, a scroll inscribed, “Namu Haishi Myøshin” (“I

take refuge in the illustrious spirit of our esteemed teacher”) in Rennyo’s

hand was discovered. With these examples, we can clearly see how belief

in the Japanese deities of heaven and earth became assimilated and overlapped

with shinjin in Shin Buddhism.

This trend of thought eventually gave rise in modern doctrinal studies

to a view often referred to as “conformity among the three teachings”

(sangyø itchiron). Toward the end of the so-called modern age, pressure

was being applied to Japan by foreign nations in particular to open its

doors. In reaction to that, ultra-nationalism was slowly on the rise in Japan.

Accusing Buddhism of being a foreign religion, Japanese classical scholars

and Shintøists criticized Buddhism, using the theory that Buddhism was

no benefit to the nation. By the end of the Tokugawa era, many tracts critical

of Buddhism appeared. They claimed that Buddhist priests did nothing

but drink sake and play go; that the Buddhist teaching said nothing about

this world, but only talked about life after death; and thus that the Buddhist

religion was meaningless. This kind of thorough-going criticism and

denunciation of Buddhism eventually led to the anti-Buddhist movement

in the Meiji era.

How did the Buddhist schools, and especially Shin Buddhism, respond

to the rejection of Buddhism in Japan? For the most part, Shin

Buddhism sought to reach a compromise with those critical of it, hoping

thereby that the criticism would end. Few persons undertook a severe selfcriticism

of the actual state of Shin Buddhism. Rare also were movements

seeking an accurate return to the fundamental standpoint of Buddhism.

Instead, Shin Buddhism sought to reach a compromise with heterogeneous

religious traditions by advocating the theory that Buddhism, Shintø, and

Confucianism essentially taught the same thing. This logic of “conformity

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 47

among the three teachings” was representative of the direction that Shin

Buddhism was taking in the modern age. Hence, when the modern

imperial system, with its background in Shintø, arose in the twentith

century, Shin Buddhism found itself in a state whereby it had simply to

cooperate with and submit to it. This would later lead, of course, to the

formation of Shin Buddhist “wartime doctrines” during the Second

World War.

As I have already mentioned, Shintø—the Japanese way of the kami—

is a religion of power. All of the kami are said to have specialized functions,

bearing the responsibility for carrying out various kinds of work. Numerous

kinds of kami are said to exist, such as deities for entrance examinations,

deities for personal relationships, deities for getting money, and

deities for traffic safety. When a person prays to the kami, it is believed, one

is bestowed with the power of that deity, and receives a benefit as the result.

Hence, whenever Shin Buddhism is made to coincide with Shintø and

Amida Buddha is connected with the kami, then inevitably Shin Buddhism

also becomes a religion of power. It certainly appears that Shin

Buddhism of today has both the character and tendencies of a religion

of power.

In light of this, how we should understand the idea of tariki, which

appears in the Shin Buddhist teachings and can be literally translated as

“Other Power?” There may be some who will take the position that Shin

Buddhism must be a religion of power, since it involves the notion of

“Other Power.” Instead of that, however, I would submit that we must

first examine the notion of “Other Power” very carefully. In other

words, if Amida Buddha is understood to be some kind of substantial

entity that is to be grasped in a dualistic or objective manner, then

Amida Buddha would undoubtedly be thought of in terms of power. It

would then be almost natural to equate Amida with some kind of

omamori paper charm. Some Shin Buddhist followers have been known

to want to buy omamori during their visit to the Hongwanji. This is not

to say that such followers are bad Buddhists. Rather, the problem lies

with the doctrines and sermons that encourage followers to think in that

way. That is the problem with equating the notion of “Other Power”

with a simple, conventional notion of power. The problem with translating

tariki as “Other Power” is that it implies that tariki stands in

contradistinction to “self-power.” Interpretations taking place at this

level lead to a variety of misunderstandings.

Although it is believed that the term tariki is a Chinese translation of an

earlier term, that original word is now unknown. Scholars have engaged in

various investigations of this problem, but they have still reached no

definite conclusions. It can be inferred, however, that the origin of tariki

was the term paratantra. Nakamura Hajime’s Bukkyøgo daijiten 28 notes

that this is the origin of tariki. However, other theories consider that to be

48 Pacific World

in error. Thus, we are unable to make any sweeping statement about the

origin of tariki. Nevertheless, I believe that the term tariki arose around the

periphery of the term paratantra, and in the extension of that concept.

Paratantra has been translated as engi (dependent origination) or eta

(dependent-on-other). Dependent origination reveals that all existences

arise or come about through causes and conditions. For instance, all of you

and I have been able to form a relationship here today because you have

come here in the midst of your busy schedules. I have been healthy enough

to able to come here. Our mutual existence, at this instant, has indeed come

about through these and other conditions. Because I am here, you are here.

Because you are here, I am here. Certainly, our mutual existence at this

instant takes place within a relationship of reciprocity and mutual interdependence.

This is the meaning of dependent origination.

However, from the standpoint of Buddhism, it is a mistake to say, “You

are here because I am here.” This is not a Buddhist way of thinking. Rather,

to say, “I am here,” means that I am able to exist here because of all of you.

Buddhism teaches us first of all to question the self. When this is the

direction of our thinking, then we can understand that the self exists only

as the result of others. Today, all of you have come here despite your busy

schedules. Because of you, I am able to present this talk. Here, dependent

origination has the same source as being dependent-on-the other. This

level of understanding of engi or dependent origination would inevitably

give rise to the term tariki. We could understand tariki in that way. Yet, it

would be a mistake to take tariki to mean that one makes no effort by

oneself or that things will somehow progress through the working of the

other. This is not tariki. Rather, tariki can be understood when, even while

one is making diligent efforts to do something, one stares deeply into the

heart of the matter and discovers—one awakens to reality—that it is made

to come about through others.

Often in discussions at Dharma gatherings one of the young people in

the group will make this kind of statement: “If the Buddha is tariki (Other

Power), then the Buddha should be able to save us unilaterally, whether we

go to the temple or listen to the Dharma, or do not.” How lamentable that

this is the level at which some people understand the meaning of tariki! Yet,

does the responsibility for such erroneous interpretations not lie with those

who teach these ideas? This is the kind of thing that happens when we

consider Amida Buddha to be some kind of substantial entity, and discuss

Amida in terms of power. Today, Shin Buddhist observances for the

deceased have been distorted in a variety of ways. As I have stated above,

Shin Buddhism originally provided a Buddhist teaching for human beings

to realize growth to a true humanity—to realize maturation even as they

cast off the skin of their old selves. In that way, Shin Buddhism was a

religion of a path. However, this fundamental meaning has been lost in

many regions and by many priests, replaced by a religion centered on the

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 49

performance of rituals for the deceased. Amida Buddha is grasped solely

within the context of power.

This understanding is based on an erroneous understanding of Shin

Buddhism that began with Zonkaku. Three of his texts, Jødo kenmonsh¥,29

Hø-on ki,30 and Shidøshø,31 focus on Shin Buddhist observances for the

deceased. By examining the first two texts, we will see how Zonkaku

presents this as Shin Buddhist doctrine.

According to the Jødo kenmonsh¥ after a person dies his sins and

offenses are investigated by the King Emma for a period of forty-nine days.

Thus, the living are instructed to perform memorial services for the repose

of the deceased every seven days without fail. He states that the deceased

also asks the living to do this. Depending on the way in which the memorial

services are performed, the deceased will then be able to go to a better place.

In the Hø-on ki, Zonkaku extensively discusses the importance of offering

prayers for benefits in this life. He writes in detail about how the nembutsu

is the most efficacious way to perform prayers for present-day benefits or

memorial services for the respose of the deceased. The final text is the

Shidøshø. Here, Zonkaku says that by performing memorial services for

the deceased, that person will be able to move to a good location within the

Pure Land. He also states that the activity of “directing of virtue in the

aspect of returning” (gensø ekø) will differ depending on the merits

generated by the observance of memorial services. Perhaps enough has

been said about these ideas, except that in them the Shin Buddhist teaching

has completely disappeared.

Yet, a paper recently presented at the Nishi Hongwanji’s Doctrinal

Research Center took the position that Zonkaku’s three texts, which center

on funerary rites for the deceased, are equivalent to the triple sutra in the

current state of affairs, and should be actively used to teach the realities of

Shin Buddhism to its followers. According to this position, the function of

Shin Buddhist instruction and propagation is to teach and guide followers,

even though, by advocating the observance of memorial services for the

deceased and prayers for worldly benefits, it is completely submerged in

Japanese customary practices and folk beliefs, and has totally compromised

itself to them. This is truly shocking. At my temple, I am struggling

hard against these secularized beliefs and customs. But, is the Hongwanji

capable of saying the same? How truly lamentable it is. Each of us should

take note of this situation and seek to learn correctly the teachings of

Shinran.

V. CONCLUSION

I have discussed the problem of the true and the false in contemporary

Shin Buddhist Studies by considering both “true Shin Buddhism” and

50 Pacific World

“false Shin Buddhism.” In this discussion, I have offered three conclusions:

1. Amida Buddha exists as a symbol, and must not be taken to be

a substantial entity.

2. Shinjin in Shin Buddhism is a non-dualistic, or, subjective

“experience of awakening.” It should not be understood in a

dualistic, or, objectifying way.

3. Shin Buddhism is a religion of path, and must not be understood

to be a religion concerned with power.

I believe that, as long as our understanding of Shin Buddhist doctrine does

not clearly return, at least in regard to these three points, to a “true Shin

Buddhism,” it will not be accepted or understood well by many persons on

the international stage today. Further, anything other than a “true Shin

Buddhism” will be unable to speak affirmatively as a religion with a fully

developed societal presence or respond to the range of problems that are

sure to gush forth from human society in the years to come.

Translated by David Matsumoto

Shigaraki: The Problem of the True and the False 51

NOTES

1. Translator’s note: This essay is based on a lecture presented by Dr.

Takamaro Shigaraki to the Shinsh¥ Rengø Gakkai in Kyoto, Japan, on June

8, 2001.

2. Någårjuna, MahåprajñåpåramitopadeΩa (Commentary on the

Mahåprajñåpåramitå S¥tra; Ta-chih-tu-lun; Jpn. Daichidoron), Taishø,

vol. 25, p. 125 a25–b9, c1-3.

3. The Collected Works of Shinran (hereafter, CWS), (Kyoto: Jødo Shinsh¥

Hongwanji-ha, 1997), pp. 241–2.

4. In particular, see Paul Tillich, Dynamics of Faith (New York: Harper and

Row, 1957), pp. 41–54.

5. Shinran, Mattøshø (Lamp for the Latter Ages), 5, in CWS, p. 530.

6. The text of Anjin ketsujø shø is available in Shinsh¥ shøgyø zensho

(hereafter, SSZ), vol. 3 (Kyoto: Øyagi Købundø, 1941), pp. 615–638. For an

English translation of the text, see Dennis Hirota, “On Attaining the Settled

Mind: A Translation of Anjin ketsujø shø,” in Jødo Shinsh¥ kyøgaku

kenky¥sho, ed., Rennyo Shønin kenky¥: kyøgi hen, 2 (Kyoto: Nagata

Bunshødø, 1998), pp. 19–54.

7. Daiei, Øchø jikidø kongø bei, 3 vols. (Kyoto: Nagata Bunshødø, 1879).

8. The True Teaching, Practice and Realization, Chapter on Shinjin, in

CWS, p. 94.

9. The True Teaching, Practice and Realization, Chapter on Practice, in

CWS, p. 70.

10. Shinran, Shøzømatsu wasan (Hymns of the Dharma-Ages), 35, in

CWS, p. 407

11. Shinran, Yuishinshø mon’i (Notes on ‘Essentials of Faith Alone’), in

SSZ, vol. 2, p. 624.

12. Left-hand notes to Hymns of the Dharma-ages, 34, in CWS, p. 407.

13. Cited in The True Teaching, Practice and Realization, Chapter on

Shinjin, in CWS, p. 80.

14. Muryøjukyø (The Larger Sutra of the Buddha of Immeasurable Life), in

Hisao Inagaki, The Three Pure Land Sutras: A Study and Translation from

Chinese (Kyoto: Nagata Bunshødø, 1994), p. 253.

15. Shinran, Jødo wasan (Hymns on the Pure Land), 55, in CWS, p. 340.

16. SSZ, vol. 2, pp. 205–442.

17. Rennyo, Gobunshø (Letters of Rennyo) vol. 2, no. 13, in Jødo shinsh¥

52 Pacific World

seiten: ch¥shakuban (Kyoto: Hongwanji Shuppanbu, 1997), pp. 1128–9.

18. Left-hand notes to Hymns of the Dharma-ages, 34, in CWS, p. 407.

19. True Teaching, Practice and Realization, Chapter on Transformed

Buddha-bodies and Buddha-lands, in CWS, p. 289.

20. Shinran, Hymns on the Pure Land, 71, in CWS, p. 344.

21. Tannishø (A Record in Lament of Divergences), 12, in CWS, p. 668

22. True Teaching, Practice and Realization, Chapter on Shinjin, in

CWS, p. 107.

23. Lamp for the Latter Ages, in CWS, p. 538

24. Shinran, Mida Nyorai Myøgøtoku (The Virtue of the Name of Amida

Tathagata), in CWS, pp. 656–7

25. Shinran, Gutokushø (Gutoku’s Notes), in CWS, p. 594.

26. Lamp for the Latter Ages, 4, in CWS, p. 529.

27. Zonkaku, Shojin hongaish¥, in Shinsh¥høyø, vol. 12; Shinsh¥

kanashøgyø, 6. See the reference in Okamura Sh¥satsu, ed, Shinsh¥

daijiten, vol. 2 (Kyoto: Nagata Bunshødø, 1972), p. 1171.

28. Nakamura Hajime, Bukkyøgo daijiten (Tokyo: Tokyo Shoseki, 1983), p.

897.

29. SSZ, vol. 3, pp. 375–383.

30. SSZ, vol. 3, pp. 256–281.

31. SSZ, vol. 5, pp. 252–270.