Torii, a gate to a sacred place

One of the first Japanese words you learn, while visiting a shrine or monastery is torii (nouns in Japanese are used only in the singular form). Torii is a Japanese kind of symbolic gate marking the line, at which you trespass from the profane to the sacred ground. It is usually placed at an entrance to a Shinto shrine. We saw, however, torii in some of the Buddhist temples, as well. In more prominent shrines or monasteries, you will also find gates that mark the sacred ground that you recognize as a gate. But its construction is by far not like on the photo below. These are really solid and quite big gates. Similar symbolic gates may also be found in other Asian countries.

A ‘typical’ torii, Kyoto

Torii, in general, is made of two pillars and two horizontal bars. The construction may be, however, more complicated or a simpler one. A very simple torii may be made of only two posts linked with a rope (called shimenawa). Shimenawa may also be an addition to the traditional construction (as on the photo above). Torii may be made of wood, or stone, or concrete, or other materials. The most distinctive ones are those made of wood and painted with a red or orange tint (vermilion). Only some parts of a torii like footing and/or the upper lintel are painted black.

Torii, as well as other buildings in Shinto shrines or in Buddhist temples, are often (by far these are however not all of them) covered with red (orange) tint called vermilion. This kind of tint contains mercury (mercuric sulfides), the size of which particles is decisive for the color. The bigger the particles, the more reddish the tint. The tint is said to protect the wood against insects, but this is not confirmed by all sources. The protection may be somewhat symbolic as the red color is told to protect against demons and illness. The symbolism is pretty much the same as of orange (red) clothing put on figures (statues).

There can be a couple or quite many of torii gates in a shrine. They can be of different sizes. Each torii may mark the trespassing point to the following another sacred space.

Torii may also play a different role. In Fushimi Inari Taisha shrine complex in Kyoto called also Oinarisan) torii are placed one after another forming long but long corridors. Walking beneath you feel like being in a tunnel. The torii in Oinarisan do not mark the sacred land. They had been offered to its deity by worshipers as a thank you for good fortune.

Vermilion torii path, one of many in Fushimi Inari Taisha shrine complex, Kyoto.

Another photo made in Fushimi Inari Taisha. Behind a stone, a torii that marks the entrance to the next section of the sacred land. You can see small vermilion torii that had been offered as a gesture of gratitude, like that big torii on the photo above.

Torii, a gate to a sacred place

Japan Diaries 2.0. Japanese Shrines and Temples. A Note by an Absolute Beginner

During my first trip to Japan, I found myself surrounded by shrines and temples — each more striking than the last. But I quickly realised I couldn’t tell them apart. Was it Shinto? Was it Buddhist? Without a guide, I started learning by observing, taking notes, and later doing a bit of research. This post isn’t an expert take, just a beginner’s attempt to make sense of Japan’s sacred spaces — through what I saw, photographed, and slowly pieced together. Below, you’ll also find links to posts on shrines and temples I visited.

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 seen 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 deityEven 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 bigger (more widespread) than shrines, which is of course not a thumb rule.

At first sight, those bigger temple or shrine complexes seemed to us quite similar in construction pattern – widespread premises with many buildings and more or less complicated gates of comparable design. Now sitting at home comparing the pictures, recalling memories, and reading the information available on the Internet, I realize that they were not that similar at all. Some had statues inside, like those of the Buddha, or just gods or goddesses (deities), and the whole temple seemed to be organized around them. The others, however, were just sanctuaries with some objects inside, the figures (statues) even if the present did not play a central role. It turns out that these are the primary difference between a Buddhist and a Shinto temple or shrine.

Shinto shrines are sacred places, where a deity (kami) is present within objects stored there or in an object, around which the shrine was built (like a tree or a mountain). Contrary, to Buddhist temples, you may not find a reflection of a deity (god or goddess) in the form of sculpture inside a Shinto shrine. The very exception is animal guardians, usually in pairs, like lion-dogs, monkeys, and foxes, who are told to be the messengers of the deity. If you approach them, they will convey the message to the deity. Contrary, in the Buddhist temples, you will find bigger or smaller statues of Buddha, as well as some other symbolic figures and deities.

Japanese shrines and temples may have so many common characteristic features that only those well oriented can recognize the particular features at first sight.

In Japan, many of the old wooden buildings were entirely destroyed by fire, earthquakes, other disasters or as a result of political turmoil. Many of the buildings we admire today are not the originals, but the reconstructions made ages or not that long ago. The Japanese have a long tradition of rebuilding structures that have been damaged or destroyed. This process is often seen as an opportunity for renewal and improvement. We also visited at least one shrine complex (I know of) that was in full moved from one place to another. This can be due to urban development, infrastructure projects, or efforts to preserve cultural heritage.

One of the first Japanese words you learn, while visiting a shrine or monastery is torii (nouns in Japanese are used only in the singular form). Torii is a Japanese kind of symbolic gate marking the line, at which you trespass from the profane to the sacred ground. It is usually placed at an entrance to Japanese shrines and temples. In more significant shrines or monasteries, you will also find gates that mark the sacred ground that you recognize as a gate. But its construction is by far not like on the photo below. These are really solid and quite big gates. Similar symbolic gates may also be found in other Asian countries.

Torii, in general, is made of two pillars and two horizontal bars. The construction may be, however, more complicated or a simpler one. A very simple torii may be made of only two pillars linked with a rope (called shimenawa). Shimenawa may also be an addition to the traditional construction (as on the photo above). Torii may be made of wood, or stone, or concrete, or other materials. The most distinctive ones are those made of wood and painted with a red or orange tint (vermilion). Only some parts of a torii like footing and/or the upper lintel are painted black.

There can be a couple or quite many of torii gates in a shrine. They can be of different sizes. Each torii may mark the trespassing point to the following another sacred space.

Torii may also play a different role. In Fushimi Inari Taisha shrine complex in Kyoto (called shorter Oinarisan) torii are placed one after another forming long but long corridors. Walking beneath you feels like being in a tunnel. The torii in Oinarisan do not mark the sacred land. They had been offered to its deity by worshipers as a thank you for good fortune.

Torii and other buildings in Japanese shrines and temples are often covered with red (orange) tint called vermilion. This kind of tint contains mercury (mercuric sulfides), the size of which particles are decisive for the color. The bigger the particles, the more reddish the tint. The tint is said to protect the wood against insects, but this is not confirmed by all sources. Traditional manufacturing processes for vermilion involved grinding cinnabar, a red mineral, to produce the pigment. This process was indeed associated with the release of mercury vapors. However, due to the toxic nature of mercury, alternative pigments are now more commonly used in modern applications.

While the protective qualities of vermilion against insects are not universally confirmed, the color is believed to have symbolic protective attributes against spiritual and supernatural threats as the red color is told to protect against demons and illness. The symbolism is pretty much the same as of orange (red) clothing put on figures (statues).

Entering Japanese shrines and temples, or another kind of sacred land (like a cemetery) and paying respect to deities involves a series of rituals. I am sure I did not catch them all. Two were not difficult to notice. These were the purifying or cleansing rituals as well as paying respect by ringing a bell and clapping hands.

All Japanese shrines and temples, no matter Buddhist or Shinto are equipped with a symbolic cleansing facility. The cleansing may happen through the usage of water, fumes, sand, etc. So to begin with prayers or merely paying respect to the deity, you have to purify the body, at least symbolically.

In most shrines and temples, we saw stone sinks/basins, in which the worshipers or visitors could wash their hands and mouth. 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. Carrying water in hand, you can also rinse your mouth. (For hygienic purposes, it is forbidden to take the spoon directly to your mouth.)

The other kind of the purifying ritual we saw mainly in Buddhist temples was by lightning an incense stick. The fragrant smoke is believed to purify the surroundings and create a sacred atmosphere conducive to meditation and prayer. The most common incense used in temples is agarwood, sandalwood, or aloeswood, chosen for their pleasing scents and spiritual significance. Devotees may perform a three-step ritual of bowing, lighting the incense, and placing it in a container filled with sand or ash, signifying reverence and humility.

Paying respect to a deity and praying includes ringing a bell and clapping hands. You do so by shaking a rope hanging down. Afterward, you have to bow and clap your hands. First, you ring, then you bow twice, clap your hands twice so that the deity is hearing you, then bow once. In the end, do not forget to put a coin into the offering box.

In a shrine or a temple (for a fee) you can also obtain lucky charms in the form of protective amulets and make wishes by hanging wooden votive plaques on special stands or discharge misfortune by leaving fortune-telling pieces/rolls of paper in the temple. We saw all of those practices in both Shinto and Buddhist temples (the exceptions I remember was the Zen Buddhist temples, but I can be wrong). I suppose this is a way how the temples finance some of their expenses.

protective amulet (called omamori) you simply buy, take with you, keep it by yourself or hang in your car, etc. This should protect you from a lousy fortune but also helps you to fulfill your wishes, find love, prosper in marriage, etc. Each omamori is dedicated to a specific deity or purpose, such as protection from accidents, success in studies, good health, business prosperity, love, and more. Omamori are usually valid for one year. After that period, it’s customary to return the old omamori to the shrine or temple where it was purchased, and a new one can be obtained for continued protection

On a votive plaque (called ema) you can write a wish (or it is already pre-written for you), and you hang it onto a special stand. Ema serve as a means to convey their wishes and prayers to the deities or spirits at the shrine. People write their hopes, dreams, and requests on the ema, seeking divine assistance or guidance. Ema typically have a distinctive shape, often resembling a small wooden board. The act of hanging the ema is symbolic, representing the offering of one’s wishes to the divine. The ema are often displayed in a communal area, creating a visually striking collection of wishes.

The rolls of paper (called omikuji) are a bit more complicated. Through some kind of a lottery (even if done by a vending machine) you obtain a small piece of paper. It reads you your fortune. The omikuji are often available in various categories, such as general fortune, love, health, and more. Fortunes can vary widely, ranging from very favorable to very unfavorable. After reading the fortune, it is common for visitors to tie the omikuji to a designated area near the shrine or temple. Tying the fortune is believed to either secure the positive aspects predicted or to ward off potential misfortune..

During more significant festivities in shrines (the Japanese celebrate many religious festivals), it is customary to drink sake, as a symbolic act of unification with gods. It is also customary that the sake producers donate barrels of sake to the shrine. As only as much sake is ordered as it is needed, some of the producers are asked to donate empty barrels for display purposes. Many shrines display empty barrels, sometimes seasonally, but sometimes permanently.

The ritual around breaking open the wooden lid on the top of the sake barrel is called kagamibiraki. It is performed during other kinds of festivities, as well, like to celebrate the New Year or during wedding parties. It symbolizes joy, good fortune, and the sharing of blessings.

In most Japanese Buddhist temples, it is forbidden to photograph the core interior of the main hall. Those places, if accessible for tourists, are well-marked as such. As I understand the very core of the temple is not a place of worship, but a place where the temple holds its most sacred objects. Besides, you may make as many photos as you want. Contrary to Europe, where photographing people delivering service in public is by definition not forbidden, in Japanese shrines and temples the monks or employees often give you a sign that they do not wish to be on the photo.  But it is not a thumb rule.

Japan Diaries 2.0. Japanese Shrines and Temples. A Note by an Absolute Beginner

The path of torii

When sightseeing, we quite often visit sacred places, churches, monasteries, or shrines. After visiting many in a short period in our recollections, we usually confuse one with another. Unless we see something really unusual. If I had to make a recommendation of a place worth to visit, this one would be high on the shortlist. Oinari San, a sacred mountain you climb walking paths made of torii.

Oinari San or officially Fushimi Inari Taisha located in Fushimi-Ku in Kyoto (Japan) is the head shrine of Inari. Inari is a significant figure in Japanese mythology and folklore, and is also one of the most widely revered deities in Shintoism. Inari is primarily known as the god of rice, agriculture, and fertility, but is also associated with prosperity, business, and success in various endeavors. The deity is often depicted as a fox, which is believed to be Inari’s messenger or familiar. Foxes are considered sacred animals associated with Inari and are believed to possess supernatural abilities.

Fushimi Inari Taisha has a long and illustrious history. It was established in the 8th century during the Heian period and stands as one of Japan’s oldest and most significant Shinto shrines. Initially located at the base of Mount Inari, it was relocated to its present site at the mountain’s foot in the early 10th century. The shrine has undergone multiple reconstructions and expansions, with notable renovations taking place during the Kamakura period in the 13th century and the Edo period in the 17th century.

One of the shrine’s remarkable features is its extensive collection of torii gates, creating a network of trails that ascend the mountain. These gates, generously donated by individuals and companies, serve as expressions of gratitude for the blessings bestowed by the deity Inari. While the earliest torii gates date back to the 8th century, most of the gates were constructed during the Edo period and subsequent eras.

At one of the side gates (called torii) to the Oinari San.

The shrine consists of two parts: the lower one – pretty much similar to other shrines in layout and colours (mainly vermilion that is said to protect against evil forces), and the upper one – long corridors made of torii (vermilion, too) climbing a mountain, that represents a sacred space where the divine Inari is believed to reside or manifest its presence.

There are approximately ten thousand large and small torii that adorn the shrine grounds in Oinari San. They were donated through ages by worshipers as a thank to Inari for successful businesses or transactions, or other life achievements the deity could have taken care of. The act of donating a torii gate is seen as a form of spiritual devotion and an expression of faith. It is believed that by making these offerings, worshippers establish a deeper connection with Inari and seek continued blessings and protection. Each torii gate is typically inscribed with the name of the donor or a specific prayer or wish.

The giant torii form long corridors called the Senbon Torii path. The corridors of torii are broken from time to time either by smaller shrines or spots that look like cemeteries (although they are not). These shrines often have their own unique architectural style and feature smaller torii gates, statues, or sacred objects related to Inari or other deities. Visitors may pause at these shrines to offer prayers, make offerings, or simply take a moment of reflection in a more intimate setting.

A walk through all of the torii corridors takes more than two hours of climbing up and down the mountain. If you want to take photographs and walk all the side paths, you will need twice as much time.

The map looks quite simple. But the rows of 10-20 torii on it are in reality paths made of hundreds of them.

We arrived at Oinari San late around six local time and left around eight. Yet again we planned too much in our itinerary for that day. In the morning we were still in Kanazawa sightseeing one of the oldest Japanese gardens in the country. In the afternoon, already in Kyoto, we went to see the final procession of the Aoi Matsuri festival. Actually, we planned to visit Oinari San the next day. But with some time to spare after the parade ended, in a spur of the moment, we decided to speed up our itinerary. Initially, our plan was to visit Oinari San the following day, allowing for a more leisurely experience.

And I must say, it was far from a regrettable choice. We embarked to Oinari San under the late evening sky, that quickly changed into the night sky. It was too late to climb to the top. But as I now recall it, the most exciting part of this visit was going down the mountain beneath the colossal torii gates, enveloped in darkness, with only a scattering of lamps illuminating our path. It was a kind of experience one does not forget quickly. With only decent illuminations, the atmosphere was simply magical. The shrine’s serene ambience and the soothing sound of rustling leaves provided a respite. At this hour only seldom you meet other tourists or worshipers. The experience was great, in particular, that the place is very silent. It was just as many people to not feel secluded, but simultaneously not too many to contemplate this place. The atmosphere was captivating, striking a perfect balance between a sense of connection and a moment of personal contemplation.

The journey up the mountain begins on the left-hand side, while on the right, there is a basin for the purifying ritual. Adjacent to it, the main entrance to the shrine complex awaits, offering a space for visitors to pay their respects to Inari. I visited it after the descend from the mountain two hours after taking this photo making it – as I understand – the other way round as it should have been. The proper order would be to go through the cleansing ritual, cross the Romon Gate to prepare for the experience, and take the Senbon Torii path, up he mountain through the torii gates.

My path begins. It is 18:20 local time.

The first torii on the mountain path. When entering you barely suspect, how many torii you have ahead of you, stretching far into the distance.

Sometimes torii on the path get very dense. Through shadows you see only the enlighted path. As said above, the path is broken by smaller shrines, like the one on the photo below.

As I continued along the path, I found myself trailing behind a young couple who paused at each shrine paying respect to Inari. They walked with a sense of reverence and purpose, pausing at each shrine to pay their respects. At each shrine, the couple bowed deeply.

Further along the path, I encountered another shrine adorned with miniature torii gates displayed on a small altar. The pictures above and below were taken from the same spot. I just turned around.

It is 18:30.

Although the path seems to head down, I am still climbing the mountain. It is an intriguing illusion. It is like a reminder that sometimes in life, progress and growth can come in unexpected ways, even when it appears that we are moving in a different direction.

As I approached another shrine along the path, I was greeted by a mesmerizing sight. The place was adorned with a multitude of torii gates, both small and large, creating a captivating display of vibrant colors. The torii gates here were predominantly made of stone, adding a sense of solidity and timelessness to the surroundings. The atmosphere was serene, and the air carried a sense of reverence. It was a place where the tangible presence of history and spirituality intertwined, leaving an indelible impression. It was already twilight. The photos below are a bit enhaced with light to show the views.

On my way, I crossed two or three sacred places as those on pictures above. I stopped to do some closeups. All the sacred objects that were even a few meters away from me disappeared in the darkness. Once I found myself having taken a wrong turn somewhere in the middle of the mountain. I got into absolute darkness leaving the lights behind me. The quiet around me was striking.

It is 18:45.

It is getting darker and darker. It was too dark to continue. A quick look at my watch. I need to get down to meet my fellow at the lower shrine. Only a shot of the way upstairs (yet again enhanced to see the perspective).

The walk downstairs was breathtaking. At this hour you barely meet people. As there are a couple of parallel torii paths, and sometimes the way down is, in fact, the way up, I was afraid of getting lost. For more than 20 minutes, it was just me, the faint illumination of torii and the encompassing darkness around.

If I had not to meet my fellows at the agreed hour, I would probably go at a slower pace. The photos below were made while standing below a light bulb. I still needed to enhance them. In reality, it was a bit darker inside.

I reached the lower shrine. It is 19:10.

On the lower picture you can see the Romon Gate to the shrine complex. The picture above shows a shrine that is located behind the Romon Gate. It is the main hall of worship at Fushimi Inari Shrine, the so called Go-honden in Japanese. The Go-honden is the central and most important building where the main deity of the shrine is enshrined. To reach the Go-honden, visitors must pass through the Romon Gate. Walking through this gate symbolizes entering into a sacred space and signifies the transition from the mundane world to the spiritual realm of the shrine. It is a significant moment that sets the tone for the spiritual experience and connection with the deity. Before you get to the Romon gate, you need to go through the cleansing ritual. On my way down, I crossed this place in the reversed order.

As I got down, only one fellow was waiting at the agreed meeting point. It turned out, most of our traveling fellowship was too tired to continue and left earlier. We still waited, for another fellow, who like me enjoyed the walk in the dark. With no internet access, she got lost…

So a small hint: if you are there in the evening where it is already dark, stick to the illuminated torii pathway. Take your time. Walk through in a proper order. Do not be afraid of darkness. Just stick to the path.

The path of torii