Hope Remains for Japan’s Disappearing Shrines and Temples

In bustling Kyoto, temples and shrines make up the majority of the city’s attractions, so one would believe that the survival of these places of worship is a given. But only a handful of Kyoto’s 2,000 religious sites receive enough income to sustain themselves, let alone employ full-time staff.  Recent estimates are pessimistic: up to one-third of Japan’s roughly 150,000 Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples may disappear or become inactive within the next 15 years, and Kyoto is no exception. Each year, hundreds of small shrines and temples risk not generating enough revenue to remain open to the public.

At Saiho-ji Temple, also known as Kokedera, “The Moss Temple” long term plans seem to have helped bolster the revenue of the temple to maintain its otherworldly moss-covered grounds for the time being. The plan is built around scarcity, limiting the number of visitors the temple accepts per day while increasing the admission fees to a higher, yet still reasonable, level. FOMO creates an environment where tickets to the temple sell out regularly during peak seasons. It’s a risky bet that paid off for Saijo-ji, although not a business model that can work universally for other temples and shrines.

Nearby, another beautiful temple tells the flip side of the story. Fernwayer Experience Maker Clementine Sandner walks with me to one of these small temples near her atelier, where she turns recycled obi belts into stunning, luxurious handbags and pouches. An elderly gentleman collects a small admission fee, likely used mainly to carefully tend the grounds, which consist of a bamboo grove, moss-covered pathways, and a historic tea house with a view of a Zen garden. Clementine notes that every time she comes to this temple, the same elderly man collects the fees. We sit on the veranda of the tea house chatting for half an hour, and only two other people come through the temple grounds.

On the other side of the valley, in the shadows of Kyoto’s most well-known shrine, Fushimi Inari, sits another small temple: Sekiho-ji. Having been led there from Fushimi Inari by my Fernwayer guide Waka-san, I am struck by the contrast. Despite being stunningly beautiful and only a few minutes from the most visited shrine in Kyoto, the grounds of Sekiho-ji are nearly empty. The temple holds the gravesite of one of Japan’s most beloved painters and a fascinating stone garden of rakan, statues of the followers of Buddha, but visitors can practically have the grounds to themselves. According to Waka-san, this situation is commonplace. Though difficult to imagine, even Fushimi Inari was a seldom-visited shrine before it became known through popular films. But perhaps this type of miraculous (though double-edged) reversal of fortunes shows that hope remains.

Read More: Why Visit Now: Kyoto

The Role of Shrines and Temples in Preserving Historic Japan

The importance of Japan’s shrines and temples goes well beyond preserving physical buildings and ancient festivals. Although these are important aspects of cultural continuity, many of Japan’s best-preserved arts and crafts: hanging scrolls of elegant calligraphy, sumi-e ink drawings, and handicrafts from wood and metal are the property of these institutions. Most are donations from wealthy and influential patrons collected from centuries of relationships. Consider Oyamazumi Shrine located on a small island of Ehime Prefecture in Japan’s Seto Inland Sea. Few visitors to Japan know this shrine by name or will make the effort to visit its Treasure Hall, but those who do will be in for an astonishing surprise: among its enormous collection of weapons and armor donated by its patrons are 80% of Japan’s National Treasures and Important Cultural Properties of the military genre.

In fact, the majority of all of Japan’s National Treasures and Important Cultural Properties do not belong to the government, the Imperial Family, or private museums, but to Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples. The care and protection of such important items is no small task, so the distribution of such great responsibility makes it possible for Japan to maintain so much of its tangible history.

Beyond the tangible, these institutions also help preserve the intangible: skills and rituals that are integral parts of Japanese traditional heritage that also support the functions of temples and shrines. Take shodo, the art of calligraphy. The vast majority of calligraphy in modern Japan is performed for and by the staff of these religious institutions, as part of daily rituals of blessings for people who come to worship, and in the creation of goshuin, the elegant “autograph” of each shrine and temple that proves a person visited it. Japanese tea ceremony was also an important Zen ritual and continues to be practiced by Zen priests in quiet temple tea houses. The art of ikebana, the arrangement of flowers, was invented at a temple in central Kyoto.

With so much of Japan’s traditional culture relying upon the continued existence of these religious institutions, it may be frightening to realize no formalized plan for sustaining temples and shrines exists in Japan. Fortunately, among the rank and file, there are those who understand the criticality of their role, and are prepared to do whatever it takes to sustain individual places of worship.

Read More: Why Visit Now: Tokyo

A Young Shinto Priest in Kanazawa Continues Family Tradition

On a quiet side street just a few minutes’ walk from Kanazawa Station, Yasue Hachimangu shrine appears timeless, neither rooted in past nor present, as many Japanese Shinto shrines do. Sacred shimenawa braided ropes and the zigzag shide paper strips that hang from them are changed before they become too weathered. Ancient buildings have been rebuilt many times over the centuries, yet still look relatively new. Yet, the shrine serves roughly the same purpose it did when it was established — providing blessings and protections for Shinto believers who come to pray through the generations of Shinto priests who tend to it.

I stand on the shrine grounds, the patter of light rain on my umbrella the only sound I hear. A young man in Shinto priest attire emerges from one of the buildings and approaches with a smile. His name is Yuki Atsumi, a Shinto priest whose descendants have tended Yasue Hachimangu for over 1,000 years, and Yuki himself is the 26th-generation priest in his family line.

Yuki is an anomaly in Japan, where descendants of Shinto priests and priestesses, if there even are any, tend to walk away from the family trade for more lucrative professions. The ongoing issue of depopulation in Japan is one of the root causes, as the number of local residents able to support the shrine continues to shrink.

This thought is what makes my time with Yuki all the more precious. Speaking with Yuki, I realized that he wasn’t someone who continued the family trade out of obligation, but out of his passion for Shinto beliefs. Yuki explained that Shinto is more than just a religion in Japan, it is often the root of the Japanese worldview and the living, beating heart of Japanese culture. This is an idea he wants to share with visitors from overseas as well.

Take the simple Japanese ritual of pausing to say “Itadakimasu” (いただきます) before partaking in a meal. Western thought has oversimplified this ritual by comparing it to saying grace before a meal, but in actually, there is much more to it. Yes, itadakimasu is an expression of gratitude, not only to nature, which brought sunshine and rain that allowed the meal’s ingredients to thrive, but also to the people — farmers, wholesalers, and chefs — who were involved in getting those ingredients to your plate. This act of gratitude to nature, the supernatural, and regular people is a pillar of the Shinto belief system.

Yuki explained that both he and his brother chose the life of a Shinto priest, and that because of the dwindling number of priests in Japan, his family has been helping to care for multiple shrines in Kanazawa city, including the well-known Kanazawa Shrine at the foot of Kenrokuen Garden. Their father is still active as a priest, so the family supports the network of shrines in Kanazawa City as needed.

Today, however, Yuki is my host at his family shrine with a history dating back to the 10th century. During the Edo period from the early 17th to mid-19th century, the powerful lords of the Kaga domain, the Maeda clan, were patrons of this shrine.

Read More: Why Visit Now: Osaka

I’ve had a long-held interest in the Maeda clan, rooted in the fact that my best friend from childhood is a Maeda descendant, so I spent a lot of time asking Yuki about the shrine’s connection to this family. His eyes lit up at my curiosity, and he suddenly stood up, saying, “We don’t normally show this to people, but since you’re so interested in the Maedas…” Leaving the room briefly, Yuki returned with a sword, a 300-year-old offering from the Maeda lord to the shrine, given in gratitude for the healing of a family member. “Want to hold it?” he asked with a smile. He didn’t need to ask twice.

After the rush of handling an authentic relic from my favorite Japanese clan, I sat with Yuki as he patiently wrote copies of the shrine’s goshuin, tangible memories of my time spent with him. The graceful strokes of his brush reminded me how much time and effort he must have spent practicing his calligraphy, for no other reason than the enjoyment of the shrine’s visitors.

Before I left the shrine grounds, I quietly observed people coming and going, some to pray briefly in front of the main shrine building, others visiting the office to purchase protection amulets and chat with Yuki through the window. The connection I drew between these individuals was the comfort they received from the presence of the shrine as an institution, something that has been part of the Kanazawa community since before anyone can remember, and, with the dedication of people like Yuki, will continue to exist far into the future.

Back in Kyoto, too, there is a sparkle of hope. My guide, Waka-san, reports that her husband intends to retire from civil service within the next few years to become a staff member at a Buddhist temple. And at the tiny temple near Clementine’s atelier, a woman has joined a rotation with the elderly man to help collect admission fees. For the time being, the foundations of Japan’s faith and traditional culture remain intact.