Fire in the Lotus: Buddhist School of America

As part of my series of articles discussing the book,Nichijo: The Testimony of John Provoo, I’m reprinting here the portion of Daniel Montgomery’s Fire in the Lotus discussing Nichijo Shakya. This material, which was published in 1991, has several factual errors. For example Montgomery suggests Rev. Shobo Aoyagi was at the Sacramento Nichiren Buddhist Church in 1940 when John Provoo formally converted to Nichiren Buddhism. Aoyagi  was in San Francisco. Montgomery also mischaracterizes why Provoo’s conviction for treason was overturned. Several other facts differ from those in Nichijo’s book.


Buddhist School of America

Nichijo Shaka is the most colorful and controversial Nichiren leader in America. In spite of his Japanese name, he is a Caucasian American from San Francisco. Born John D. Provoo in 1917. He was introduced to Oriental philosophy by his mother, who was an early Montessori advocate. She later converted to Buddhism under the guidance of her son. Provoo was so impressed by Buddhism that in 1940 he accepted the Precepts (formally converted) under the Rev. Shobo Aoyagi of the Sacramento Nichiren Buddhist Church. Never one to do things by halves, he went to Japan to study for the priesthood at Mount Minobu. He had been there seven months when his studies were cut short by a call from his draft board back in California (Young East, Autumn 1965, 13).

The draft board ignored his claim to be a theological student and assigned him to the army, which soon shipped him back to the Orient, this time to the Philippines. When the Japanese invaded the Philippines in 1941, Provoo suddenly found himself in the thick of desperate fighting. However, with the fall of the American fortress of Corregidor, he was taken prisoner.

Provoo was one of the few American prisoners who could speak Japanese. Moreover, he had a lively interest in Buddhism and Japanese culture. The Japanese found him a willing spokesman for the prisoners — perhaps too willing. Within two days of his capture, he was thought to have made accusations against an American lieutenant which led to the latter’s execution. As the weary years passed, many American prisoners, who were living under appalling conditions, came to resent Provoo’s behavior and favored treatment from their Japanese captors. They believed that his cooperation with the enemy had passed over to collaboration. “The consensus among the men on Corregidor,” says Lt. Gen. John Wright, a former fellow-prisoner, “was that Provoo was a traitor, a turncoat, a self-centered individual not to be trusted.”

When the war ended, Provoo was at first overlooked in the flush of victory, but his fellow prisoners of war had not forgotten him. Eventually some of them managed to get him charged with collaboration with the enemy — treason — and brought to trial. Throughout the trial Provoo steadfastly maintained his innocence, but former prisoners lined up against him. Among them was no less a personage than General Wainwright, the highest ranking American prisoner of war. Provoo was found guilty and condemned to a federal prison. His lawyers, however, had not yet given up, and carried his case to the Supreme Court of the United States. There he was declared innocent on a technicality: the statute of limitations had expired. Provoo’s conviction was reversed, and he was set free.

In 1965 a large Japanese delegation came to the United States to participate in the 12th Congress of the World Association of World Federalists. The delegation was headed by Archbishop Nichijo Fujii, the highest ranking abbot of Nichiren Shu. After the close of the congress some of the delegates, including Archbishop Fujii and Professor Senchu Murano, made a tour of the United States to meet American Buddhists. In New York City Professor Murano was approached by John Provoo, who asked to be introduced to the Archbishop. The two got on well. Provoo became the personal disciple of the Archbishop, who took him back to Japan to continue his studies at Mount Minobu.

Provoo concluded his studies satisfactorily. He was ordained a priest, and in 1968 the Archbishop gave him the right to train and ordain future American aspirants. Provoo changed his name to Nichijo Shaka — Nichijo in honor of the Archbishop and Shaka for Shakyamuni Buddha. By 1981, when he came to the “Big Island” of Hawaii, he had trained and ordained 17 priests, of whom many were women. (The Honolulu Advertiser, 30 August 1981)

Nichijo Shaka never attempted to start a mass movement. His aim was to establish an American training center for serious students who would then bring orthodox Nichiren Buddhism back to their home towns. Because he wanted his center to be purely American, he refused to accept official support for it as a Nichiren Shu foreign mission. He lived simply as a Buddhist monk, and it was not until Dr Richard E. Peterson of the University of Hawaii gave him the use of three acres on the “Big Island” that he was able to build a permanent center.

Like Nichiren, who was finally granted land on Minobu only to find his health deteriorating, Nichijo Shaka found himself in the same predicament. He founded the “Buddhist School of America: Perfect Law of the Lotus Teaching” when he was too ill to supervise it properly. Therefore he ordained the Rev. Nichizo Finney as his successor, and took him to Minobu to complete his training. (History of Nichiren Buddhism in Hawaii, 34, in Japanese)

Nichijo Shaka’s career is drawing to its close. The success or failure of his efforts now rests with those he trained, and their impact remains to be seen.

Fire in the Lotus, p251-253


Table of Contents

Daily Dharma – Sept. 2, 2023

Muddy water has no mind but it still catches the moon’s reflection and naturally becomes lucid. Plants and trees catch the rain in order to blossom, but can we say they do this deliberately? The five characters of Myo Ho Ren Ge Kyo are not the text of the sutra nor a mere explanation; rather they are the sole intent of the whole sutra. Beginners may practice this without knowing the heart (of the Lotus Sutra), but their practice will naturally harmonize with its intention.

Nichiren wrote this passage in his Treatise on The Four Depths of Faith and Five Stages of Practice (Shishin Gohon-Shō). This is another way of saying that we do not need to rely on our own skills or wisdom to practice the Buddha Dharma. Whether we are brilliant or slow, focused or distracted, calm or agitated, when we rely on the Ever-Present Buddha, we are in harmony with the world.

The Daily Dharma is produced by the Lexington Nichiren Buddhist Community. To subscribe to the daily emails, visit zenzaizenzai.com

Nichijo: Errata

In my article on Nichijo and his mentor Nippo I said:

He took Nichijo from Archbishop Nichijo Fujii, his master when he was studying at Minobu after the war, and Shaku from Nippo Shaku, the teacher who guided him on his journey to Minobu.

Clearly that’s wrong on its face since Nichijo’s name is Nichijo Shaka, not Shaku. I also misspelled Shaka as Shakya in another article.

If I find any other obvious errors I will correct them.

Day 4

Day 4 concludes Chapter 2, Expedients, and completes the first volume of the Sūtra of the Lotus flower of the Wonderful Dharma.


Having last month concluded Chapter 2, Expedients, we return to the top and consider in gāthās the 5,000 arrogant bhikṣus and bhikṣunīs.

Thereupon the World-Honored One, wishing to repeat what he had said, sang in gāthās:
Some bhikṣus and bhikṣunīs
Were arrogant.
Some upāsakās were self-conceited.
Some upāsikās were unfaithful.
Those four kinds of devotees
Were five thousand in number.

They could not see their own faults.
They could not observe all the precepts.
They were reluctant to heal their own wounds.
Those people of little wisdom are gone.
They were the dregs of this congregation.
They were driven away by my powers and virtues.

They had too few merits and virtues
To receive the Dharma.
Now there are only sincere people here.
All twigs and leaves are gone.

See 800 Years: Arrogance

Nichijo: The Right Reverend

This is another in a series of articles discussing the book, Nichijo: The Testimony of John Provoo.


On Saturday, Jan. 1, 1966, John Provoo sailed for Japan to resume his training at Minobu to become a Nichiren Shu priest.

Again my ship docked at Yokohama, this time in an era of peace. There was an enthusiastic reception for me, the prodigal “Furobo-san,” as they called me, since they could not pronounce “Provoo,” and a banquet in a fine hotel. Many among the Japanese population who knew my story had adopted me as their own, and I felt fondness in their welcome. Then the train ride to Minobu: I was overjoyed to find that it had been untouched by the war.

Nichijo: The Testimony of John Provoo, p227

Provoo was raised to the rank of Sozu (Right Reverend) and began his instruction with Archbishop Nichijo Fujii.

Each morning after the otsutome, I would go to the Lord Abbot’s villa. Every two or three days the Abbot would say, “is there something you wish to ask?” and I would offer my interpretation of a particular point and ask if it was correct. I also began to ask if I might be included in a very high training, the “Arai Gyodo” – the “One Hundred Days in Winter,” an ordeal of cleansing and purification. The Lord Abbot would put me off.

I had easily entered into the life of the monastery. The regimen that had been difficult and harsh to me as a young novice [in 1940-41] was now easy. I didn’t have the pressure of being in a strange country that was preparing for war against my own, and the students in my English classes at Minobusan College were not sickly and green from malnutrition.

Eventually the Abbott relented on Provoo’s request to participate in Arai Gyodo and he was allowed to enter the 100-day ascetic practice.

After three-quarters of the hundred days had elapsed, I had reached the state of mind that I wanted this to go on forever, and I could understand why the old ones had come again and again. One old monk died during the ritual, and I could see what a sublime death it was, and we were certain that the old monk had been happy to have ended that way.

Having been prepared in this manner, the participants were ready to receive the highest teachings of the order. The attendant masters delivered occult training in the healing arts based on the 16th Chapter of the Lotus Sutra. The teachings of the Arai Gyodo are secret and are not described to outsiders.

Nichijo: The Testimony of John Provoo, p232

After completing the 100-day ascetic training, Provoo was promoted to rank of “Bishop” with the authority to ordain priests and given the name Nichijo Shaka.

Following my ordination ceremony, I walked down to the village of Minobu’s outer gate, to make the traditional procession up through the winding main street of Minobu chanting “Namu Myoho-renge-kyo.”

I was known to everyone in the village, and today, wearing my new insignia of high rank, I was honored and congratulated by all. The proprietors of every shop and inn asked me to stop and chant a sutra before each of their shrines. It was a triumphant procession, Minobu’s version of a ticker tape parade. After some hours, I reached the huge Sammon Gate, entrance to the temple grounds, and retired to my quarters.

My first official function with my new rank came a few days later, when late one cold evening a schoolboy came to my quarters. The boy had come all the way up the dark stairs and through the monastery grounds to find me. There was an emergency in an old woman’s home down by the river in the poorest part of the village. The woman wanted the “blue-eyed priest and no other.”

I got robed, banked the ashes over the coals in my hibachi to keep them going until I returned, and gathered my sutras and my cape. Guided by the schoolboy, we made our way down the mountain to the old woman’s hut. The dilapidated thatched building was in an advanced state of disrepair. The old woman greeted me at the door and invited me to enter. She was bent way over from age and wore an old padded robe that was faded and had the stuffing coming out in several places. The straw mats on the floor were unraveling and her feet were bare; she hadn’t even tabi. In her hibachi there were only a few small lumps of charcoal and it wasn’t enough to keep the cottage warm, not with the holes in the walls.

Her tragedy was that her hibari bird was dead in its cage. It had died from the cold. She wanted the Lotus Sutra chanted for the happy transfiguration of her dead bird’s spirit. I was touched by this and agreed.

Her shrine was clean, there were artificial flowers and a glass of water as an offering, and there was incense there for me to light. I took off my cape and began the service. I opened my sutra and chanted at least five chapters, the long version of the ceremony.
When it was over, the woman seemed much moved and had become very peaceful. She tried to make tea, but with her small amount of charcoal she could only make the water lukewarm, and the tea was weak when she served it.

She rummaged around in her belongings and found two 100-yen notes, wrinkled and dirty, were worth about six cents. She didn’t have the proper envelope, so she wrapped the notes in white paper and knelt down to offer them to me. It was the hardest danna I would ever have to accept. Danna is a Sanskrit term denoting that offering given to a priest which bears the connotation “…where it is understood that there is neither gift, giver nor recipient.” To have refused to accept it from the old woman would have been unthinkable. It would have been a cruel insult.

I returned to my quarters in the monastery. In the following days I arranged, in an indirect way, to have charcoal sent to the old woman’s house as well as some nonperishable foodstuffs.

Nichijo: The Testimony of John Provoo, p233-236

Table of Contents

Daily Dharma – Sept. 1, 2023

Anyone who visits a monastery to hear
The Sūtra of the Lotus Flower of the Wonderful Dharma
And rejoices at hearing it even for a moment,
Will be able to obtain the following merits:

The Buddha sings these verses to Maitreya (whom he calls Ajita – Invincible) in Chapter Eighteen of the Lotus Sutra. The joy we find in the Buddha’s highest teaching is different from what we experience when our desires are satisfied. It is a joy we can learn to find at the heart of everything we think, say and do. The merit that comes from this joy does not make us better than anyone else; it only allows to see the world as the Buddha does. Joy is not something that needs to be added to our lives. It is what we find remaining when we let go of our

The Daily Dharma is produced by the Lexington Nichiren Buddhist Community. To subscribe to the daily emails, visit zenzaizenzai.com