Yesterday a large group from St Nicholas with the Holy Innocents (man, we really need a snappy nickname) visited the nearby Buddhist temple to attend their Setsubun celebration and participate in the morning chanting. I got there late, as I had a severe miscommunication between my brain and my GPS unit – problem existed between driver’s seat and Magellan. It was a bitterly cold, windy day, and when
I finally got to the temple, trying to stop kicking myself for my inability to enter the address correctly, I was about 15 minutes late and had missed any explanation.
The temple is quite modern and Western-looking, with the exception of the Buddhist symbol high over the door, a golden dharma wheel. In the vestibule, there was a red granite water feature with thin streams of cold water. Although it looked like a decorative fountain, it was something like I’d encountered on my trip to Japan years ago outside Buddhist temples, so just in case I rinsed my hands and wiped my mouth as a Japanese friend
had shown me how to do. However, I now see that that was the procedure for visiting a Shinto shrine, so I washed my hands in an ornamental fountain. I hope the people waiting in the entrance hall were amused.
I was welcomed by an enthusiastic man and woman, handed a prayer book and an information pamphlet, and ushered into the main hall, where a largish congregation was chanting in Japanese. I looked around for the place where all the shoes would be left, but they were on the American plan in that part of the temple: everyone sat on comfortably padded chairs with their shoes on. I sat with some of the others from church in a side section. With the help of a friendly lady from across the aisle, I managed to stay
on the same page with everyone and even chant along quietly (I can pronounce Japanese adequately enough if it’s transliterated). Most of the rest of us gamely tried to keep up with what was going on.
There were television screens, and the chanting was done by a man, but there was also a woman on the screen conducting the ceremony remotely. It was confusing at first because I got there late, but what was happening was a world-wide satellite transmission live from Japan. Or, it may have been delayed and edited, as there were several locations shown. At first, I couldn’t figure out who was leading the chanting, and thought the TV screens showed a recording of a previous service at the same temple. Turns out
they must have carefully duplicated their main altar to match the one in the main temple in Japan.
The chanting went on for a while, and then beans were thrown into the congregation in Japan (actually, several congregations – it appeared that there was some editing done so the woman conducting the service could quickly go to other nearby temples and throw the beans there). I learned later that she was the head of the order, Shinso Ito. It seemed like a fun, happy celebration, and she called out something as she started to throw the beans. First, she threw them at three people who seemed to be dressed
as demons. After the video was over, we got a little more explanation from the local priest of the temple. He was a genial guy who seemed like in another life he wore a letterman’s jacket and sold insurance in Omaha. He explained that the beans being scattered were to drive away the demons and invite good luck, and we would shortly get beans tossed at us, and we should try to catch them in the plastic bags. He gathered some people who were all born in the Year of the Boar to scatter beans from little
wooden boxes, and then the fun began. They called out “Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi!” and tossed beans high and low. There was a lot of laughing and horseplay, especially where there were little kids.
Beans everywhere. Beans in our hair. Beans crunching underfoot. Beans, no doubt, in my purse and pockets. I’m sure I’ll find them later. I was pretty into trying to catch beans and laughed with the others when I was able to catch them falling from on high. It was a ball, frankly. It didn’t need much translating at that point. It was just lighthearted fun.
The people at this particular temple are part of the Shinnyo-en denomination of esoteric Japanese Buddhism. It was really interesting, and afterwards the priest took us on a tour of part of the temple, where we got to an area where, at last, the shoes came off. That was oddly homelike and comforting, because it reminded me so strongly of my trip all those years ago.
Then afterwards, I was able to get a temple stamp in my little book – in Japan it’s customary to get an elaborate calligraphy and rubber-stamped temple name and logo in a little memory book that they sell – I got several of these when I was in Kyoto and Nara, and even from a Catholic church in Nagasaki.
Today after the early service at church, which was surprisingly well attended considering how FRICKIN COLD it was (below zero, with a big windchill), there was a lively discussion during the Adult Ed session. I sat in with a bunch of the people who had been at the temple yesterday, and apparently they’d been discuussing Buddhism several weeks ago before Advent and other things forced them to put that particular topic aside. One of the most knowledgeable was one of the younger kids, who had been studying other
religions on his own. It made for a satisfying adult ed session, because it wasn’t just a bunch of middle aged people.
All in all, it was a pretty neat couple of days, other than the FRICKIN COLD weather.
