|
first impression on entering Ise Shrine |
If I were a religious
person I suppose I would be an animist. There is something about living in a
world in which everything has “soul” that imparts a profound feeling of
rightness, of belonging. That was my impression as I wandered around the Grand
Shrine of Ise in Mie Prefecture, Japan. This is the Vatican of Shinto, but,
having visited both, I can’t help but feel that they embody diametrically
opposed expressions of the spiritual longings of man.
|
Vatican City, Rome |
In the Vatican, you
feel detached and isolated in the splendid stone vastness of the Bellini colonnade
in the square and overwhelmed by the remoteness of any sense of “soul” in St.
Peter’s Basilica. This is architecture designed to impress with the wealth and
power of a potentate—power on a truly imperial and impersonal scale—the longest
lasting empire the world has ever known. Yet, you don’t feel the presence of,
for want of a better expression, God, there—only the presence of wealth and unapproachability.
|
torii |
|
fancy-tailed rooster |
Ise Shrine is also
impressive. Natural tones of greens, browns and grays predominate. The colossal
pillars here are randomly scattered, enormous and alive. They thrust their leafy
crowns high above the surrounding sun-dappled greenery with the wooden
buildings, torii and bridges of the shrine complex blending in harmoniously,
intertwined with the carefully tended though mostly natural forest that
contains them. Everything is alive here, the running water, the growing trees,
the chirping birds (even a few chickens) and buzzing insects—the very rocks seem
alive as the sun streams through the overhead canopy and dances on the stone—the
seemingly endless stream of humanity drifting along, gazing at the natural and
unnatural world around them, hugging trees shiny with a patina of millions of
hands caressing them over more than a thousand years. This place is ancient
beyond imagining and, at the same time, as approachable as this morning’s
breakfast.
|
shadow and light |
|
worshipers or weekend tourists? |
|
feel the vibrations |
|
drink the cool aid |
|
you can almost feel the presence of the goddess |
|
this old fellow became our guide |
|
this exquisite little shed is for rice storage food for the gods, of course |
|
detail of roof thatching craft work |
|
approach to the main shrine complex
|
That endless stream
of humanity flows in the general direction of the “holy of holies”, the main
building complex that is the home of Amaterasu-Omikami [天照大御神] (shining in heaven), the Goddess of the
Sun. (Unlike in the western tradition where the sun deity is usually associated
with the male principal and the earth the female, in Shinto, the sun deity is
the Goddess Amaterasu.) Japan’s Emperors claim direct descent from Amaterasu
who, according to legend, gave her descendant the three Imperial Regalia, the
mirror, sword and jewel, symbols of the emperors’ power. The mirror, which is
never seen, is said to be kept here.
|
torii gate to the main shrine - you can't go beyond the white veil |
|
nature and artifact blend perfectly |
|
impressively unadorned simplicity |
|
our self-appointed guide |
|
wooden footbridge merges beautifully with the surroundings |
All the shrine
buildings are built on two adjacent sites. Every 20 years the old buildings are
destroyed after exact new copies have been built on the adjacent site and
rededicated in a ceremony that has continued unbroken since the 7th
Century known as Shikinen Sengu.
|
you can see the new (left), and the old (right) shrine complex not yet destroyed |
No comments:
Post a Comment