Binzuru

2023 By justmovingaround in JAPAN, Sacred Grounds Tags: Binzuru, Buddhist, Buddhist temple, Japan, Japanese culture, vermilion

While visiting Japanese temples, one may encounter not only grand architectural beauty but also numerous statues representing key figures from Buddhist and Shinto traditions. Among them is Binzuru – a revered Buddhist disciple believed to possess healing powers and deep compassion. His presence in temples invites quiet devotion, ritual gestures, and the hope of physical and spiritual relief.

Binzuru was one of the arhats. Arhats are beings who have attained a state of spiritual liberation through direct understanding of the Buddha’s teachings. They are believed to be entirely free from suffering, desire, and the cycle of rebirth (samsara). Although they are not buddhas, they have reached enlightenment and are characterised by deep wisdom and spiritual purity.

In Buddhism, particularly in China, Japan and Tibet, a tradition developed around the veneration of the Sixteen (or Eighteen) Arhats. According to legend, these were disciples of Shakyamuni Buddha who were entrusted with the task of preserving and protecting the Dharma – that is, the Buddha’s teaching, the cosmic law, and the spiritual path leading to liberation. Dharma is not merely a set of moral rules; it is also the universal truth about the nature of reality, which the practitioner is meant to realise and embody. Statues of the arhats are commonly found in temples. They are portrayed as elderly monks, each with a distinctive facial expression, gesture or attribute, symbolising various aspects of spiritual practice – from contemplation to acts of compassion.

One of the most revered arhats in Japan is Binzuru, known in Sanskrit as Pindola Bharadvaja. According to legend, he was one of the Buddha’s most gifted disciples, endowed with great spiritual powers. However, he used these abilities inappropriately – showing off before others, for instance by levitating. The Buddha rebuked him, and as a form of spiritual obligation, assigned him the task of remaining in the world to help people – most notably through healing.

Binzuru at Kiyomizudera | 清水寺の賓頭盧, 日本 | 清水寺的宾头卢, 日本 | 기요미즈데라의 빈즈루, 일본 | Binzuru en Kiyomizudera, Japón | Binzuru à Kiyomizudera, Japon | Binzuru in Kiyomizudera, Japan

Statue of Binzuru in Tōdai-Ji Temple in Nara (Japan)

In Japan, Binzuru is often depicted as an elderly monk with a kind and gentle expression. He is typically shown sitting in a meditative pose, holding a cane and a beggar’s bowl.

It is believed that he has the power to cure illnesses and alleviate suffering, and many people visit his shrines and temples to pray for healing and good health. One popular practice associated with Binzuru is the rubbing of his statue. It is believed that by rubbing the statue in the spot corresponding to one’s own ailment, one can transfer Binzuru’s healing power to themselves or to a loved one who is ill. His statue is often worn smooth, polished, and draped with cloths as a sign of reverence and gratitude.

In Tōdai-Ji Temple in Nara Binzuru wears an orange robe, which is a traditional color for Buddhist monks in Japan and other Asian countries. The color orange is considered significant in Buddhism, as it represents the color of the robes worn by the Buddha and his followers. It is also said to represent the qualities of wisdom, humility, and detachment from material possessions. The orange robe worn by Binzuru is thus a symbol of his status as a Buddhist monk and his dedication to the practice of the Buddhist teachings. It is also believed to represent his compassion and willingness to help those in need, as Buddhist monks are known for their role in providing spiritual guidance and support to their communities.

More on symbols in Tōdai-Ji Temple in Nara

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Shukubo. The Koyasan Temple Stay Experience

2017 By justmovingaround in JAPAN, Lifestyle, Sacred Grounds Tags: Buddhist, Buddhist temple, Japan, Koyasan, temple

The Koyasan temple stay experience was not quite what I expected. I imagined rows of monks in orange robes and distant rituals glimpsed from behind. Instead, I found something quieter and more personal: a small monastery, simple routines, whispered evenings, and early-morning chants in a dark, incense-filled hall. A glimpse into a slower, sacred rhythm of life high in Japan’s spiritual mountains.

It’s Christmas Eve. A couple of hours ago – around 9 p.m. – I was driving home from a crowded mall. There was no snow, just rain, which felt unusual for Christmas. But the streets were quiet, almost empty. A peaceful drive, with cheerful Christmas songs playing on the radio. As I drove, I found myself thinking about my next trip. Christmas will be spent with family, but New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day I’ll spend with friends – beyond the Arctic Circle in Norway. A bit odd, perhaps – a winter trip to the far North. But in a way, we’ll be having summer in the middle of winter. In just one month, it’ll be the end of the world again – this time in the Southern Hemisphere. In both Norway and New Zealand, I’ll reunite with people I traveled with to Japan last year.

And speaking of that trip, I just realized there’s one place we visited in Japan that I haven’t written about yet on this blog: a sacred mountain called Koyasan. A very different part of the world. They don’t celebrate Christmas there, that’s for sure. Still, I somehow associate it with calmness and serenity.

Belltower at the main temple complex on Mount Koya – Kongōbu-ji.
The only white structure we saw during our entire trip to Japan.

Koyasan, also known as Mount Koya, is the main seat of the Shingon sect, one of the most important schools of Buddhism in Japan. Founded in the early 9th century, Shingon is a form of esoteric Buddhism, known for its use of mantras, rituals, and symbolic imagery as paths to enlightenment. The area is visited by both Japanese pilgrims and foreign tourists, many of whom stay overnight to experience a Buddhist temple lodging – called shukubo in Japanese. The sect was established over a thousand years ago by Kōbō-Daishi, also known as Kūkai (774–835), a Japanese monk, scholar, and mystic. It was he who chose Mount Koya as the secluded and sacred site for the sect’s spiritual headquarters. Today, his mausoleum in Koyasan remains one of the most revered pilgrimage destinations in the country.

Traveling through Japan, you end up visiting many shrines and temples. But there’s a difference between simply visiting… and spending the night. Like many others, we booked an overnight stay in one of the many Buddhist monasteries on Mount Koya. The place is genuinely secluded and remarkably quiet. To reach it, we had to take a mountain railway train – a small local line that slowly carried us up the slope into the mountains.

The train to Mount Koya. The journey lasts a bit more than five minutes.

When we arrived at the Mount Koya railway station, we lingered for a short while. But soon, a local Japanese man approached us and urged us to hurry and catch the bus. We already knew that public transport outside Japan’s big cities tends to shut down by late afternoon. But in Koyasan, the last bus from the station left around 3 p.m. It was packed with tourists, all heading off to experience a night in a Buddhist monastery.

We looked around. The streets of Koya Town were tranquil, almost as if life had come to a standstill.

Koyatown. The first impression. A quiet street. 16:15.

To be honest, my expectations for the shukubo experience were a bit different. I had imagined a place full of monks in orange robes – just like in so many films about Buddhist life – with us quietly standing behind them, allowed only to observe their rituals from a respectful distance. I think I was inspired at the time by an episode of House of Cards, where Buddhist monks were performing a slow, meditative ritual, creating a picture out of colored sand on a table. After a month of careful work, the image was swept away, the sand placed into a pot, and finally poured into a river as part of a ceremonial release.

Our monastery experience wasn’t quite like that. The sect we were staying with turned out to be very small. In fact, we interacted with only one monk and one novice (to use a more European term). We were told that a Buddhist sect can be tiny, and I got the impression that this was, at least in part, also a form of cultural experience for visitors – in a place considered sacred for centuries.

Upon arrival, we were shown to our private quarters – there were only eight guest rooms in our section of the monastery – and then invited to a tea ceremony, during which our monk host explained the house rules. We learned that in about two hours we’d be served a vegetarian meal, followed by a guided visit to Kongobuji Temple, the oldest temple complex in Koyasan. After that, another vegetarian meal would be served. The night curfew was set for 10 p.m., and the next morning, at 6 a.m., we were to attend a Buddhist ceremony.

Since we hadn’t eaten anything since early morning in Kyoto, we decided to grab a bite at a local restaurant. Knowing we had two meals awaiting us at the monastery, we kept it light. In hindsight, that turned out to be a very good idea. That evening, we were served an array of vegetarian delicacies – beautifully presented, but light and subtle in flavor. For us, it was less about being full and more about experiencing Japanese vegetarian cuisine in its traditional, monastic form.

Below are a few photos of our lodging and the meals we were served.

Our monastery experience in Koyasan.
Quiet. Soothing. We didn’t exactly obey the curfew – it felt too early for us.
But imagine fourteen people sitting quietly in one cell, spending the late evening whispering to each other.

In the afternoon and early evening, we had time to explore a bit of Koya Town. There was a kind of small city center, with most of the buildings in traditional Japanese style. Many of them seemed to be connected in some way to monastic life. Koyasan revealed itself as a truly secluded place, where it feels natural to slow down… and take plenty of photos of its picturesque architecture, surrounded by lush greenery. I think it was there that I saw, for the first time, a Japanese person carefully plucking grass from a moss-covered lawn – a small but somehow striking detail.

Just a glimpse of Koyasan and its main temple complex.
It wasn’t particularly difficult to take photos without anyone in the frame – even in the early afternoon.

The first temple complex in Koyasan during our late evening walk. The building is the Kondo Hall. Significant ceremonies are held there.
If I had to do something differently during our evening in Koyasan, I would have taken a tripod with me to the complex. The main buildings are clearly visible, but most of the time you walk along paths marked by small lamps, surrounded by darkness.
As Koyasan is truly secluded, and no other lights are visible in the night, the atmosphere and views are incredible.

I don’t have any photographs from our evening or early morning at the monastery. It felt too private to document. That evening, a small communal bath was made available to us. There were only a few guests staying in our part of the monastery – just two other women, who we think were from the Netherlands. They used the bath earlier, so we had it to ourselves. The hot jacuzzi was a welcome relief for our muscles. After ten days of intense sightseeing and long travel, it felt genuinely soothing. Still, two people from our group asked for a chance to bathe separately, so we took turns. Because of the 10 p.m. curfew, we had to leave the bath earlier than we would have liked. In the morning, we were only allowed to use a shared restroom – no showers were available.

The next morning, we were expected to wake up early to attend a religious ceremony held in the sacred part of the monastery. As in many other Buddhist temples and monasteries, we were not allowed to bring cameras – a rule we had already encountered elsewhere. The small hall was dimly lit and filled with an intense, lingering scent. We began with a cleansing ritual, which involved clapping hands, fragrant smoke, and rubbing ash into our palms. Then came the recitation of sutras – a form of sacred teachings or wisdom texts. Our host gave us printed copies in English, which we were asked to recite softly, in a steady, rhythmic voice. The entire ceremony lasted about an hour. I had still hoped we might see more monks, but in the end, it was just our small group and our monk host. There were around thirty people in the hall, most of them appearing to be European or American. Only one Japanese couple was present.

We left the monastery around 10 a.m., collecting our luggage from the main storage area. From there, we set out to visit one of the oldest cemeteries in Japan, located near the resting place of Kōbō-Daishi. The cemetery is enormous and ancient, with many gravestones dating back several centuries. Wandering among the moss-covered monuments and towering cedar trees, you feel the deep sense of history and reverence that surrounds the site.

At the Okunoin cemetery.

Kiyomizudera

2017 By justmovingaround in Sacred Grounds, Sightseeing Tags: Buddhist, Buddhist temple, Japan, Japanese temple, Kyoto, temple

Japan is famous for its specific religious system combining Buddhism and Shinto. Buddhism that roots in India came to Japan from continental Asia. It is based on the teachings of Gautama Buddha and his successors. Shinto, on the other hand, is originally a Japanese ‘traditional religion’ based on the ancient belief in ancestors and deities. For centuries, the two confessions overlapped. Japan had times (XIX century, the so-called Meiji Restoration) of intensive politics to split Buddhism from Shinto or even disroot Buddhism as not originally the Japanese religion. Those efforts finally failed. Shinto and Buddhism coexist in Japanese culture. Many Japanese declare also being tied to both confessions. This religious coexistence is, however, not easy to tackle for an outsider.

A Shinto shrine may be a tiny spot marked by a torii (Japanese gate to a sacred place). It can, however, be a more significant complex of buildings, as well. A shrine is devoted to a specific deity. Even if in the Western nomenclature we would call it a temple, it will still be called a shrine in Japan. (This is, of course, an English description. Japanese have many different names describing different kinds of shrines.) The most of the bigger (sometimes quite huge) religious building complexes we visited in Japan were, however, Buddhist temples. Buddhist temples belong to and are run by different schools of Buddhism (sects), and simultaneously play the role of a monastery, with interiors accessible only to few. This is possibly why I had the impression that temple complexes are somehow more significant (more widespread) than shrines, which is of course not a thumb rule.

One of those famous temples we visited was Kiyomizudera, otherwise called the Pure Water Temple. The name derives from the Otowa Waterfall, at which it is located. Kiyomizudera is an independent Buddhist temple (since 1965) and belongs to the Kita Hosso sect. The complex is enormous and consists of wooden buildings, of which some, including the Jishu Shrine at the entrance, are covered with vermilion (characteristic orange paint). The temple is located in the Eastern parts of Kyoto. Walking the quarters (very picturesque by the way) located beneath the temple, you will finally get to Gion (the Kyoto geisha district).

Kiyomizudera temple complex; Kyoto; Japan

The main building and the Kiyomizudera temple complex photographed from a terrace located in the more remote parts of the complex. On pictures below – while on the way down to the waterfall.

The impressive wooden structure beneath the main hall. It is told to be built without the usage of nails.

The Ottowa waterfall just beneath the main hall. It was divided into three streams. Each of them is supposed to bring a different kind of fortune in life: longevity, success at school, or happy love life. It is not recommended to drink water from each of the streams as you cannot merely have it all.

As in many Japanese Buddhist temples, it is forbidden to photograph the core interior of the main hall where the sanctuary is located. Those places are well-marked as such. I made the photos at the last admissible point of the main hall. I had, however, already to take off my shoes. In front of me, a woman was kneeling and praying. Some people were waiting for their turn behind her. As I understand the very core of the temple is contrary, not a place of worship but a place where the temple holds its most sacred objects.

Jishu Shrine at the entrance to the Kiyomizudera temple complex. On the very first photo above, it can be seen (look at the pagoda) on its left-hand side behind the main hall.

In most of the more significant temple complexes (the exceptions I remember was the Zen Buddhist temples, but I can be wrong), there are stands you can buy and later place different kinds of charms. I suppose this is a way how the temples finance some of their expenses. You can obtain lucky charms in the form of protective amulets (omamori) as well as make wishes by hanging wooden votive plaques (ema) on special stands or discharge misfortune by leaving fortune-telling pieces/rolls of paper in the temple (omikuji).

In Kyomizudera, the part devoted to charms is located behind the main hall. You climb stairs, cross a torii (on the first photo) and find yourself in a world totally different from that in the main hall.

The passage to the ‘charms’ world.

A figure of a god accompanied by a rabbit, his guardian, and messenger. Behind the rabbit, a stand, where you can live a negative reading you obtained in the temple so that the rabbit can pass it over to the deity, and the deity takes care of it for you.

Foodstuff offered to deities. The two foxes are the messengers, who will pass over your message or gratitude to them.

The purifying facility. You take a kind of wooden spoon (see pictures), hold it in the right hand, and pour water onto your left hand, then the other way round. Keeping water in hand, you can also rinse your mouth. (For hygienic purposes, it is forbidden to take the spoon directly to your mouth.)