My mother died in 2003 and my father in 2009. At that time I was practicing with Soka Gakkai, which had no teaching regarding the spiritual world, the other side of this world through which we pass after death. As an SGI follower I offered generic prayers for the deceased but nothing more. My wife’s parents died in 2016 and 2018, and by then I was practicing with Nichiren Shu and the Sacramento Nichiren Budddhist Church. The experience as a Nichiren Shu follower was helpful, both for my wife and her loss and for my relationship with my deceased parents.
This topic comes up because a man I know is suffering through the pending death of his mother. He sees his practice for world peace as of little merit in this situation. But his daily practice and his prayers can be very beneficial.
In Hōren-shō, Letter to Hōren, Writings of Nichiren Shōnin, Volume 6, Followers I, Pages 56-57, Nichiren explains:
“As you read and recite the ‘jiga-ge’ verse, you produce 510 golden characters. Each of these characters transforms itself to be the sun, which in turn changes to Śākyamuni Buddha, who emits the rays of bright light shining through the earth, the three evil realms (hell, realm of hungry spirits and that of beasts), the Hell of Incessant Suffering, and to all the directions in the north, south, east, and west. They shine upward to the ‘Heaven of neither Thought nor Non-Thought’ at the top of the realm of non-form looking everywhere for the souls of the departed.”
I have found the Japanese idea of what happens after death comforting. The soul of the person (we are NOT going to discuss the fact that Ryuei McCormick would tell us we DON’T have souls) travels on a 49 day journey during which seven trials are held before magistrates.
At the start, the deceased must climb a mountain. The height of the mountain is determined by the deceased’s bad karma. This takes seven days. At the end of seven days the deceased must cross the Sanzu River, the river of three crossings. Those with sufficient good karma can cross the river on a bridge. Those with less good karma can cross on a shallow ford. Those with overwhelmingly bad karma must bob across, sinking to the bottom and then rising to the surface, repeating the process. The journey across the Sanzu River takes seven days.
At 14 days, the deceased stands before a magistrate to be judged on how much the person stole during his life. Egregious thieves are sent straight to hell while the others are allowed to pass onto the next trial.
At 21 days, the deceased are judged on their sins of lust, using a cat and a snake. As explained in Meido: The Japanese Underworld, “The cat is used to judge the souls of men; it bites at their penises, and the degree of the injury – from a slight scratch to completely severed – is used as a measure of one’s sexual sin. The snake is used to judge the souls of women; it is inserted into the woman, and the depth to which it can enter is used to determine the depth of her sin.” Again, the egregiously sinful are cast into hell and the remainder are allowed to pass onto the next test.
At 28 days, the deceased are judged on the number of lies they told. The lies are piled on a scale and the number of heavy stones it takes to balance the scale determines the weight of the deceased’s sins.The really heavy sinners are sent directly to hell, and the rest allowed to proceed to the next trial.
The trial on the 35th day is the last one in which memorial prayers can impact the outcome. During this trial, the deceased is shown a mirror on which the individual’s former life is reflected, with all of their sins and transgressions clearly laid out. A recommendation is made at this point on which of the six realms – hell, hungry spirits, animals, asuras, human or heaven – the deceased merits being reborn in.
On the 42nd day, a magistrate takes the weight of the deceased’s sins and the life reflected in the mirror to determine the location for the deceased rebirth.
It is on the 49th day that the fate of the deceased is sealed. The deceased enters a room with six gates. There are no markings on the gates or any indication where they lead.
As told by Ven. Kenjo Igarashi, “This judge in front of the six gates, will not guide this individual to the proper gate, but only instruct them to choose one. The individual will choose the gate based on what they may think is only instinct, yet this decision will also be guided by the actions that the individual took during their time on this earth.
“While it may seem as if we take little part in the deceased individual’s 49-day journey, this is not the case. One way we can assist them, is by chanting ‘Namu myo ho renge kyo,’ which as you know, is the name of the Buddha nature that we all possess. We chant this odaimoku throughout the 49 days to call upon the deceased individual’s Buddha nature. If you recall, the Buddha nature can be imagined as the inside of a seed, while the outer shell represents bad karma resulting primarily from previous actions. Whenever we chant the odaimoku, the Buddha nature slowly grows. While this is a slow process, the more we chant, the more the Buddha nature shows, until it finally appears by sprouting through the outer shell. If the Buddha nature does not appear at the end of the 49 days, the individual will not be able to reach Enlightenment.
“While death signifies the end of an individual’s time in this world, it does not mark the ultimate endpoint of their spirit. Please remember that your Buddhist practice can serve an important purpose in providing happiness for not only yourself, but also others, including the deceased.”
Recently I picked up a copy of Buddhist Saints in India, A Study in Buddhist Values & Orientations. I had run across a footnote referencing Reginald A. Ray’s theory that Devadatta, rather than being evil was instead just a rival teacher who needed to be sidelined. Eventually I plan to explore this rival teacher theory as a possible reason why Devadatta is treated so nicely in the Lotus Sutra. For now, however, I want to discuss the conclusion from Ray’s preface:
We in the West – perhaps I should say in the modern, increasingly secularized world as a whole – live with what is, when taken in the context of world religions, a remarkably devalued idea of human nature. We seem no longer to believe that human nature is perfectible or that genuine saints are possible. Such a view has, obviously, profound impacts on the way people think about and engage in (or do not engage in) the spiritual life. In my view, prevailing interpretations of Buddhism which, as we shall see, reduce the saints to peripheral actors in the tradition represents another, if perhaps more sophisticated, expression of this same modern devaluation. Buddhism may be seen essentially as an ethical system, an elegant philosophy, a practical psychology, a technique for dealing with mental distress, a cultural tradition, or a force of civilization. Rarely, however, is it seen primarily as a tradition that produces and celebrates genuine saints. Yet, at least in my reading, this is finally what Buddhism essentially is, and as long as this fact is not recognized, the specific genius of Buddhism is missed, a genius with the potential to provide a healthy challenge to our increasingly scientific, materialistic, and consumeristic view of human nature.
Nichiren is often referred to as a saint, and justifiably so. But I believe that each of us who practice Nichiren Buddhism, who chant Namu Myōhō Renge Kyō, are seeking the perfection of human nature, both ours and all sentient beings. Our Bodhisattva path leads the perfection of human nature. For me sainthood is what this practice is all about.
Very much enjoyed attending Rev. Shoda Kanai’s online Kaji Kito ceremony today. During this period of sheltering in place, I’ve enjoyed the opportunity to experience the Nichiren Buddhist Kannon Temple of Nevada in Las Vegas services.
Kaji Kito services are monthly events at the Sacramento Nichiren Buddhist Church and so I’m familiar with the ritual. Unlike Sacramento’s service, Rev. Shoda Kanai’s ceremony includes recitation by the congregation of a Prayer of Repentance. One of the values of such a prayer is its illustration of what is considered good and bad behavior. What should I be mindful of?
Prayer of Repentence
Repentance is the mysterious medicine which cures illness and the Secret Dharma to change one’s fate.
If we wish to cure terrible disease or transform evil karma, then we should repent our sins.
The law of cause and effect is strictly impartial and impossible to escape. Since even minute transgressions bring about dreadful effects, the great sins of being unfilial, unjust, unfair, unfaithful, unethical, turning one’s back on virtue and forgetting the debts of gratitude that we owe others who have shown us favor, will bring about even worse retribution. The accumulation of these sins becomes the cause for severe disease inviting misfortune and disaster.
Reflecting deeply upon this, I realize that I have perpetuated this behavior since the infinite past. I have become drunk with the wine of illusion which has consequently created unlimited and profoundly evil karma within my life.
For example:
I may have been a child who despised my parents,
A disciple who disgraced his master,
A subject who defied the sovereign,
A husband who oppressed his wife,
A wife who conquered her husband,
A mother-in-law who despised her daughter-in-law,
A daughter-in-law who opposed her mother-in-law,
Or a sibling who erected a wall of disharmony toward another.
I may have shown spite for those who treated me favorably, schemed to take advantage of another’s misfortune, broke a promise, spoke ill of others, lied, spoke recklessly or deceitfully,
Or acted immorally, behaved violently, killed, or stole.
Or my feelings were so strong that I refused to get along or compromise with others,
With feelings so cold that I could not love another,
Or so profoundly vindictive that I bore grudges against others.
Or I may have been unjust and caused others to suffer,
With desires so strong that I had uncontrollable attachment to things.
And I may have committed other various sins, offenses and transgressions which when accumulated, resulted in the manifestation of evil karma. This karma then became the very substance of my bones and flesh which beckoned miserable consequences. Not only did these evil actions give birth to terrible karma, but they set the stage for further commitment of other sins during this lifetime.
This phenomena is just like the person who wears black clothes and refuses to acknowledge the filthy grime around their own collar, or the person who wears white and is dreadfully terrified of even the slightest speck of dirt or impurity.
I must feel, however, profound joy for the one piece of great fortune that I possess. I have been able to encounter the Wonderful Dharma of Myoho-Renge-Kyo which is extremely difficult to encounter.
As I now kneel before the Eternal Buddha, sacred Lord of the Dharma Realm, I am grateful to have been endowed with the heart that is able to deeply repent in order to expiate my sins.
The Sutra states that the vast sea of evil karma is created from illusion to the truth. If I embrace the desire to repent my sins and sit erect in observance of the true aspects of life, I will see that the offenses of mankind are just as frost and dew which dissipate in the warm rays of the sun.
I sincerely repent my offenses, heartily praying that the ray of Namu-Myoho-Renge-Kyo that I chant and embrace, will shine its sacred light on the true aspects of my life.
I further pray that my evil karma which I myself have created since the infinite past be expiated, that I may quickly be saved from the suffering of illness, that my fixed evil karma be transformed and that I am granted the great benefit of peaceful existence throughout this lifetime.
This I sincerely pray, mindful of all that has been mentioned.
Now we agree to disagree on some of these. “A wife who conquered her husband?” If I raised this topic at home I’d get plenty of argument from my wife. And, of course, there are times, like the present, when it is every citizens’ duty to “defy the sovereign” and recognize institutionalized wrongs. Silence is complicity.
I enjoyed the service and the sermon. I failed miserably at the hand gestures. I’m just terrible at that sort of thing. However, I’m going to see if I can incorporate the three cycles of six movements (see above illustration) as part of my regular daimoku. The six movements with their bad karma out, good fortune in meaning reminds of the earth trembling in six ways. As Nichiren writes:
Interpreting the earth trembling in six ways, Grand Master T’ien-t’ai states in his Words and Phrases of the Lotus Sūtra, fascicle 3:
“The east is blue in color, and it controls the liver, which in turn controls the eyes. The west is white in color, and it controls the lungs, which in turn control the nose. Therefore, saying that the east was raised and the west was lowered means the rise of the merit of the eyes and the decrease in the worldly passions of the nose. In contrast, saying that the west was raised and the east was lowered means that the merit of the nose appears while the evil passions of the eyes decrease. Likewise, the rise and fall of the south and north and those of the center and the four directions mean either the appearance of merit or the decrease of evil passions in the ears and the tongue and in the mind and body respectively.”
Grand Master Miao-lê explains the above in his Annotations on the Words and Phrases of the Lotus Sūtra, “As the eyes and nose represent the east and west, the ears and tongue logically represent the south and north. The center is the mind and the four directions represent the body. The body is equipped with the four sense organs (eyes, ears, nose, and tongue) and the mind reacts to them all. Therefore, it is said that the body and mind rise and fall alternately.”
Zuisō Gosho, Writing on Omens, Writings of Nichiren Shōnin, Followers I, Volume 6, Page 121
I can’t decide whether Reidan hand movements remind me more of Patty Cake or Macarana.
The story of how two sons, Pure-Store and Pure-Eyes, at the behest of their mother, Pure-Virtue, brought their father, King Wonderful-Adornment, to have faith in the Lotus Sūtra has always inspired me. And that’s why I suppose I was so taken by the story of the first meeting of Śākyamuni with his father, Śuddhodana (which means Pure Rice), after Siddhartha Gautama became the Buddha. Both involve children performing miracles.
All of this comes up because I recently finished reading The Fo Sho Hing Tsan King, A Life of Buddha written by Aśvaghoṣa Bodhisattva and translated from Sanskrit into Chinese by Dharmaraksha in 420 CE. The Fo Sho Hing Tsan King was translated into English by Samuel Beal and originally published by Oxford in 1883. The book is the 19th volume of Oxford’s The Sacred Books of the East edited by F. Max Müller in 1883.
Chapter 19 of The Fo Sho Hing Tsan King details the “Interview between Father and Son.” Here’s the pertinent section that comes to mind when I read the story of Pure-Store and Pure-Eyes and their father, King Wonderful-Adornment:
Knowing that Buddha was now returning to his country [the king’s spies] hastened back and quickly announced the tidings, ‘The prince who wandered forth afar to obtain enlightenment, having fulfilled his aim, is now coming back.’
The king hearing the news was greatly rejoiced, and forthwith went out with his gaudy equipage to meet (his son) ; and the whole body of gentry (sse) belonging to the country, went forth with him in his company.
Gradually advancing he beheld Buddha from afar, his marks of beauty sparkling with splendour two-fold greater than of yore; placed in the middle of the great congregation he seemed to be even as Brahma raga.
Descending from his chariot and advancing with dignity, (the king) was anxious lest there should be any religious difficulty (in the way of instant recognition); and now beholding his beauty he inwardly rejoiced, but his mouth found no words to
utter.
He reflected, too, how that he was still dwelling among the unconverted throng, whilst his son had advanced and become a saint (Rishi) ; and although he was his son, yet as he now occupied the position of a religious lord, he knew not by what name to address him.
Furthermore he thought with himself how he had long ago desired earnestly (this interview), which now had happened unawares (without arrangement). Meantime his son in silence took a seat, perfectly composed and with unchanged countenance.
Thus for some time sitting opposite each other, with no expression of feeling (the king reflected thus), ‘How desolate and sad does he now make my heart, as that of a man, who, fainting, longs for water, upon the road espies a fountain pure and cold;
‘With haste he speeds towards it and longs to drink, when suddenly the spring up and disappears. Thus, now I see my son, his well-known features as of old;
‘But how estranged his heart! and how his manner high and lifted up! There are no grateful outflowings of soul, his feelings seem unwilling to express themselves; cold and vacant (there he sits); and like a thirsty man before a dried-up fountain (so am I).’
Still distant thus (they sat), with crowding thoughts rushing through the mind, their eyes full met, but no responding joy; each looking at the other, seemed as one who thinking of a distant friend, gazes by accident upon his pictured form.
‘That you’ (the king reflected) ‘who of right might rule the world, even as that Mândhâtri râga, should now go begging here and there your food! what joy or charm has such a life as this?
‘Composed and firm as Sumeru, with marks of beauty bright as the sunlight, with dignity of step like the ox king, fearless as any lion,
‘And yet receiving not the tribute of the world, but begging food sufficient for your body’s nourishment!’
Buddha, knowing his father’s mind, still kept to his own filial purpose.
And then to open out his mind, and moved with pity for the multitude of people, by his miraculous power he rose in mid-air, and with his hands (appeared) to grasp the sun and moon.
Then he walked to and fro in space, and underwent all kinds of transformation, dividing his body into many parts, then joining all in one again.
Treading firm on water as on dry land, entering the earth as in the water, passing through walls of stone without impediment, from the right side and the left water and fire produced!
The king, his father, filled with joy, now dismissed all thought of son and father; then upon a lotus throne, seated in space, he (Buddha) for his father’s sake declared the law.
‘I know that the king’s heart (is full of) love and recollection, and that for his son’s sake he adds grief to grief; but now let the bands of love that bind him, thinking of his son, be instantly unloosed and utterly destroyed.
‘Ceasing from thoughts of love, let your calmed mind receive from me, your son, religious nourishment; such as no son has offered yet to father, such do I present to you the king, my father.
‘And what no father yet has from a son received, now from your son you may accept, a gift miraculous for any mortal king to enjoy, and seldom had by any heavenly king!’
The miracles of children, the salvation of fathers, all part of a whole: the Wonderful Dharma of the Lotus Flower Sutra, the Dharma for Bodhisattvas, the Dharma Upheld by the Buddhas.
Before Covid-19 reshaped the world, Ven. Kenjo Igarashi of the Sacramento Nichiren Buddhist Church had planned a pilgrimage to Mt. Minobu and some other sites important in Nichiren Shu Buddhism. I was very excited about the opportunity and devastated when the pandemic put an end the plans.
I only hope that when I finally have the opportunity to make a pilgrimage to Mt. Minobu I have an experience as eye-opening as the experience Rev. Ryuei McCormick describes in his May 16 post, Pilgrimage to Mt. Minobu.
While I struggle with Gene Reeves and Risshō Kōsei Kai’s doctrine of Interfaith Truth, I have no real problem with the idea that the ocean of the Lotus Sutra contains all of the rivers of Buddhist thought.
As the Dharma Flower Sutra often praises itself and asserts its own excellence or superiority, it is very important to notice that in [Chapter 22, Transmission], which entrusts the teaching to bodhisattvas, the Buddha says that if in the future there are people who cannot have faith in or accept the Dharma Flower Sutra, other profound teachings of the Buddha should be used in order to teach the Dharma Flower Sutra. In other words, the teachings of the Lotus Sutra are not only in the text called the Sutra of the Lotus Flower of the Wonderful Dharma, they are also to be found in all of the profound teachings of the Buddha found in numerous sutras. By clinging too strongly to the text and words that we call the Dharma Flower Sutra, we may limit our ability to spread the teachings of the Sutra, the teachings that comprise the “real” Dharma Flower Sutra.
Later in the same chapter he expands on the need for a “generous attitude” when expounding the Lotus Sutra.
It is common for people who are enthusiastic about something to want to protect it by preserving it just as it is and by taking pleasure in making it difficult for it to be understood or appreciated by the uninitiated. Being inflexible about how a text is to be translated and expressed, insisting, for example, on using unfamiliar Sanskrit terms or quaint English expressions, may make it very difficult for others to enter a particular circle of understanding and appropriation. In such ways we may be establishing an in-group/out-group situation in which we are on the inside, in some way perhaps protected from what is outside. Traditionally, secret religious doctrines or ceremonies often functioned in this way.
Perhaps this kind of group bonding through special, esoteric language is necessary to some degree. Certainly it is very common among religious groups. But when it means that the Dharma Flower Sutra, which entrusts us to spread it everywhere, is not taught generously to others, we fail to fulfill the commission of the Buddha.
I believe that teaching generously should mean that we share the Sutra in whatever ways are most appropriate to the intended audience, always, of course, within the real limits of our abilities. While it might be nice if everyone learned enough Chinese to be able to read Kumarajiva’s Chinese version of the Lotus Sutra, this is neither necessary nor necessarily desirable. It is good, I believe, that we have versions of the Dharma Flower Sutra that make it more intelligible to Japanese people, and it is good that there are English versions that make it more available to English-speaking people. This is not merely a matter of translation into other languages; it is important that the Sutra be rendered in ways that make it as understandable as possible.
This kind of generosity, a generosity in which one tries to understand and appreciate the linguistic and cultural situation of others, a generosity in which we do not insist that our own way of expressing something in the Sutra is the only good way, this kind of generosity is what the Sutra expects of those who are its genuine followers.
If we do not approach teaching the Sutra with such a generous attitude we will, I fear, fall into one more version of “merely formal Dharma.” In other words, we will be going through the motions of teaching and practicing, but very few will be deeply moved by such teaching. This kind of failure to be generous is largely unconscious, making it difficult, but not impossible, to detect and overcome. But another problem often stands in the way of our being generous in teaching: Often we are all too conscious of it, making it difficult to overcome. This is manifest in reticence or shyness in speaking and teaching.
For me this is all underscored in Chapter 14, Peaceful Practices:
A Bodhisattva-mahāsattvas who wishes to expound this sūtra in the age of the decline of the teachings after my extinction should perform the following peaceful practices. When he expounds or reads this sūtra, he should not point out the faults of other persons or sūtras. He should not despise other teachers of the Dharma. He should not speak of the good points or bad points or the merits or demerits of others. He should not mention Śrāvakas by name when he blames them. Nor should he do so when he praises them. He should not have hostile feelings against them or dislike them. He should have this peace of mind so that he may not act against the wishes of the hearers. When he is asked questions, he should not answer by the teachings of the Lesser Vehicle, but expound the Dharma only by the teachings of the Great Vehicle so that the questioners may be able to obtain the knowledge of the equality and differences of all things.”
And again later:
“Again, Mañjuśrī! A Bodhisattva-mahāsattvas who wishes to keep, read and recite this sūtra in the latter days after [my extinction] when the teachings are about to be destroyed, should not nurse jealousy against others, or flatter or deceive them. He should not despise those who study the Way to Buddhahood in any way. He should not speak ill of them or try to point out their faults. Some bhikṣus, bhikṣunīs, upāsakās or upāsikās will seek Śrāvakahood or Pratyekabuddhahood or the Way of Bodhisattvas. He should not disturb or perplex them by saying to them, ‘You are far from enlightenment. You cannot obtain the knowledge of the equality and differences of all things because you are licentious and lazy in seeking enlightenment.’ He should not have fruitless disputes or quarrels about the teachings with others. He should have great compassion towards all living beings. He should look upon all the Tathāgatas as his loving fathers, and upon all the Bodhisattvas as his great teachers. He should bow to all the great Bodhisattvas of the worlds of the ten quarters respectfully and from the bottom of his heart. He should expound the Dharma to all living beings without partiality. He should be obedient to the Dharma. He should not add anything to the Dharma or take away anything from the Dharma. He should not expound more teachings to those who love the Dharma more [than others do].
Yes, Nichiren didn’t appear to be so understanding or tolerant, but this is not 13th century Japan. This is a much different world. As Ryuei McCormick explained in his earlier reply to my inter-faith question, “Nichiren makes it clear that there are countries that are just ignorant and evil and then there are countries that slander. I believe the distinction he is making is between non-Buddhist cultures that need to be persuaded to give ear to the Dharma and learn more about it until they are able to take up the Wonderful Dharma of the Lotus Sutra.”
In Gene Reeves’ Stories of the Lotus Sutra he includes in his discussion of Chapter 1, Introduction, Kenji Miyawaza (1896-1933), the Japanese short story writer.
One person who understood well the importance of enchantment was Kenji Miyazawa, the poet, storyteller, science-fiction writer, scientist, and lover of the Lotus Sutra. Chanting Namu Myoho Renge-kyo, he imagined his spirit in boundless space, where he was filled with joy in the great cosmos, and from which he returned to earth, having acquired strength and courage to endure a life of suffering.
Known throughout the Tohoku area of Japan as “Kenji bosatsu” (Kenji the bodhisattva), Miyazawa devoted his whole life to the Dharma Flower Sutra – to practicing the Lotus Sutra, to embodying the Lotus Sutra, to living the Lotus Sutra – for example by helping struggling farmers of Iwate Prefecture with modern agricultural science.
One of his most ambitious works, A Night on the Milky Way Railroad, was turned into a popular animated film and used in various Japanese manga comic books. It is a story about a young boy, Giovanni, and his friend Campanella, who ride a train to the stars together – a celestial railroad, soaring through deep space – experiencing numerous adventures and encountering unusual characters. In the final passages of the story it becomes clear that this night train to the stars that Giovanni and his friend Campanella are riding is actually a ferry for souls traveling to life after death!
In a chapter called “Giovanni’s Ticket,” the conductor asks the passengers for their tickets. Campanella, who is dead from drowning, like the other passengers has a small gray, one-way ticket. Giovanni, who at first is very nervous because he thinks he has no ticket at all, discovers in a pocket a larger folded piece of green paper with mysterious characters written down the center. Examining this ticket, the conductor is astonished, and asks: “Did you get this ticket from three-dimensional space?” Bird-catcher, another passenger, then exclaims:
Wow, this is really something. This ticket will even let you go up to the real heaven. And not just to heaven, it is a pass that enables you to travel anywhere you want. If you have this, in fact, you can travel anywhere on this Milky Way Railway of the imperfect fourth-dimension of fantasy.
Giovanni alone on that train has a magical round-trip pass that enables him to freely travel from the “three-dimensional space” of ordinary reality to anywhere in the “fourth-dimensional space” of the invisible, spiritual, imaginative, and enchanting world that is the Milky Way Railroad.
What is this extraordinary railway ticket that enables one to enter the fourth-dimensional world and then return to the ordinary world? Giovanni’s ticket is the gohonzon (object of worship), or mandala, of Nichiren, with its inscription of the daimoku, the sacred title of the Lotus Flower of the Wonderful Dharma Sutra: “Namu Myoho Renge-kyo.” The daimoku, as it represents and embodies the Dharma Flower Sutra, provides a connection, a passage as it were, between earth and heaven, between earthly and cosmic perspectives, between science and imagination.
After reading Reeves’ description I purchased a copy of Miyazawa’s Milky Way Railroad and quickly devoured it, wanting to read more about Giovanni’s ticket. I was disappointed to find no mention of a gohonzon, nor Nichiren nor the Lotus Sutra or even any reference to Buddhism. “There were just ten strange characters printed on the ticket against a pattern of black arabesques.” Namu-Myōhō-renge-kyō is written with seven characters. Nichiren is written with two. What was the tenth character if this represented a gohonzon?
Having so narrowly focused my reading I missed the story, and having now read it twice I can imagine – if not understand – how an interfaith view of religion might coexist with a faith in the teaching of the Lotus Sutra: “This ticket will even let you go up to the real heaven. And not just to heaven, it is a pass that enables you to travel anywhere you want.”
The book contains several references to Christian icons.
Suddenly the inside of the car burst into a white glow. A single island came into sight in the midst of the voiceless flow of the gorgeous Milky Way River. And that island cast a halo of white light as if all the splendor of diamonds and the gleaming of grass were concentrated in one place. On the island’s flat summit stood, ah, so vividly, a white cross. Silently, it stood as though hewn out for eternity from the clouds of the frozen North Pole. And it, too, shed a halo of light.
“Alleluia! Alleluia!” Voices rose from all sides. Turning around, Giovanni saw that the passengers (there were quite a number now!) were standing at attention, some holding black Bibles to their breasts, others crystal prayer beads. All of them had their hands reverently clasped. Instinctively, the two boys also rose to their feet. Campanella’s cheeks sparkled like bright red apples.
By and by, the island and the cross passed behind them. Across the way now were cliffs and palely colored smoke which, like the marsh grass drifting in the breeze, now and again veiled the cliffs in silver as if they were breathing. (p.56-57)
There’s even a Catholic nun in a black wimple, “Her eyes were lowered and directed straight before her, as if she were reverently listening for something, for some words or some voice.” (p.58)
For Giovanni, his ticket inspires in him the attitude of a Bodhisattva:
Giovanni now, without knowing why, began to feel a strange, unbearable sympathy for the man next to him. He thought of the bird catcher catching herons, and happily saying, “Ah, that was so good!” and wrapping the birds in white cloth, and looking sideways in amazement at Giovanni’s ticket, and finally exclaiming in surprise at it. As he thought of these things one after another, he was seized with the desire to do something for this stranger of a bird catcher, to give him something to eat, or anything. If it would really make the bird catcher happy, Giovanni was ready to stand on the radiant bank of the Milky Way River catching birds himself, even for a hundred years. He thought to ask, “What is it that you really want?” But that seemed too forward. Wondering how to put it, he looked around. But the bird catcher had vanished.
Miyazawa’s train has many passengers, all of whom we learn – with the exception of Giovanni – have recently drowned. Not all are traveling to the same destination.
“We’ll be arriving at the southern cross soon – get ready to get off,” the young man said to them.
“I’m staying on the train a little longer,” responded Tadashi.
Kaoru stood up uneasily and began to get ready. But she seemed reluctant to part from Giovanni and Campanella.
“We’ve got to get off here,” said the young man, looking down at Tadashi and pressing his lips together.
“I don’t want to! I’m staying on the train and riding some more first.”
Giovanni, unable to bear it, said, “Ride along with us! Our tickets are good for going on forever.”
“But we really must get off now,” said Kaoru sadly. “This is the place for going to Heaven.”
“Who wants to go to Heaven? We have to make a place even better than Heaven right here. That’s what my teacher said.”
“But Mom is up there, and furthermore, God said so Himself.”
“That kind of god is false!”
“Your god is false!”
“He is not!”
“What kind of god is your god?” young man broke in, laughing.
“I’m not sure, really. But … anyway, He’s the one true God,” said Giovanni.
“Of course the true God is the only one.”
“Anyway, my God is that one true God.”
“Well, then, there you are! And I pray that you’ll be meeting us before the true God.” The young man pressed his hands together gravely, and Kaoru, too, was praying.
At that precise moment, in the far distance of the Milky Way’s downstream course, a cross, bejeweled with bright orange and blue lights, appeared, standing shimmering in the midst of the river. Its top was lost in a pale cloud, circular like a halo.
The inside of the train was thrown into commotion as all the passengers (just as they had before at the Northern Cross) stood up and began to pray. On all sides there were cries of joy – cries like those of children picking out gourds for the Milky Way Festival. As the cross gradually came parallel to their window, they saw that the silver cloud, pale like the twirling skin of an apple, was gently, ever so gently, revolving.
“Alleluia! Alleluia!” Brightly and happily the passengers’ voices resounded together. From far off in the distant cold depths of the sky came the clear, bracing, indescribable blast of a trumpet.
The train gradually eased to a full stop directly opposite the cross in a blaze of signal lights and street lamps.
“Well, this is where we get off.” The young man took Tadashi’s hand, and Kaoru, adjusting her coat and straightening her collar, slowly followed them out of the train.
“I guess it’s goodbye!” she said, looking back at Giovanni and Campanella.
“Goodbye!” said Giovanni – gruffly, but in fact he was only struggling to hold back his tears.
Kaoru looked back once more with big sad eyes, and then they were gone. The car, already only half full, abruptly emptied out and was left deserted with the wind blowing about it in gusts. Looking out, the boys could see the passengers lined up, kneeling on the bank of the Milky Way in front of the Cross. They saw a figure robed in solemn whiteness passing over the invisible water of the heavenly river, hand extended toward them.
But then the glass whistle sounded, and, just as the train began to move, a silver fog came flowing softly upstream and their view was blotted out. They could make out only the radiant leaves of many walnut trees standing in the mist, and electric squirrels with gold halos peeping out of the mist with mischievous faces.
Now, soundlessly, the fog rolled away once more. They saw a street, lined with little street lamps, that looked like a highway to somewhere. For some time it ran along beside the track, and as they passed the lights, the boys saw those tiny specks of red flame blink on and off, as if in greeting.
Looking back, they saw that the cross was now incredibly tiny and far away. It looked like something you could hang around your neck. They wondered about Kaoru and Tadashi and the young man. Were they still kneeling on the bank, or had they set out in whatever direction it is that leads to Heaven? But it was so blurry, they couldn’t tell.
Giovanni heaved a deep sigh. “Campanella, it’s just you and me again. Let’s stick together all the way, whatever happens! … You know, if it’s for everyone’s happiness, I’m ready to have my body burned like that Scorpion – even a hundred times.”
“Ummmm. I feel the same.” Campanella’s eyes were swimming with gentle tears.
“But – what is it that will make everyone happy?” continued Giovanni.
“I don’t know,” Campanella muttered.
“Anyway, we’re going to hold on!” said Giovanni with an explosion of breath as if his chest were brimming with new-found energy.
“Ah – that’s the Coal Sack. It’s the hole in the sky!” Campanella seemed to shrink back as he pointed to a spot in the heavenly river. Giovanni, too, was shaken as he looked over there. Beyond on the heavenly river, a great black emptiness opened out.
However he strained his eyes, he couldn’t tell how far down the bottom might be, or what might be inside – it only made his eyes smart. “I wouldn’t be afraid in a big dark place like that anymore,” he said. “I’d go looking in there for what would make people happy. You and me – together to the end!”
“Together!” echoed Campanella. “Hey! Don’t those fields look great, and everyone’s gathered there, and – that must be Heaven itself! And there’s my mother!” Campanella cried out, pointing suddenly out the window to a beautiful place he saw in the distance.
Giovanni looked where he was pointing, but all he could see was dim, white, rolling smoke, and nothing at all like what Campanella was describing. Feeling indescribably lonesome, Giovanni looked aimlessly around. He saw two telephone poles standing on the opposite bank, their arms linked as if joined in an embrace.
“Campanella, we’ll stick together, right?” Giovanni turned as he spoke and … in the seat where Campanella had been sitting until now, there was no Campanella, only the dark green velvet seat.
Giovanni burst into tears and everything went black. (p.119-127)
In Reeves’ description of Miyazawa’s tale he concludes:
Like poets before him, Miyazawa understood the deepest meaning of the Lotus Sutra – an affirmation of the reality and importance of this world, the world in which suffering has to be endured, and can be, combined with an imaginative cosmic perspective engendered by devotion to the Lotus Sutra. And with his imaginative power and skill as a writer, Miyazawa offers Giovanni’s ticket to each of us. Like the Sutra itself, he uses his own imagination to invite us into an imaginary other world in order to have us become more this-worldly.
I wholeheartedly endorse Reeves’ statement that “the deepest meaning of the Lotus Sutra – an affirmation of the reality and importance of this world, the world in which suffering has to be endured, and can be, combined with an imaginative cosmic perspective engendered by devotion to the Lotus Sutra.” I just don’t see how you get from there to the place where all religions share a common, inter-faith truth.
