New notes from Japan (5): Inari

There are several gods I like. I like Shiva, a great god, who unites opposites; who is simultaneously a fertile creator and a powerful destroyer, an ascetic and a family man. I like Guanyin, a sweet goddess, whose compassion knows no bounds, who consoles and forgives. I like Jesus Christ, a wise god, who taught us to love our enemies and overcome death by accepting it. I like Budai, a mysterious and benevolent god, a happy travelling vagabond yet a future saviour. I like Hermes, messenger of the gods, who guides and protects travellers that have to cross borders, and gave his name to the academic tradition called hermeneutics. And I like Inari.

Inari is a strange god. First of all, it is not clear whether Inari is a he or a she. Perhaps both, at the same time, as s/he comprises five different deities that at some point decided to become one. Inari is famous for his/her association with foxes. That is, foxes are considered the god's messengers - but they also represent him/her. Thus, not only is Inari androgynous; s/he is also less anthropomorphic than most other gods. If I were an animal rights activist, I would ask Inari to be my patron deity.

Gods change, of course, as they are human creations - at least partly - and take shape in particular cultural and historical contexts. Avalokiteshvara became a woman as he travelled from India to China. Contemporary interpretations of JHWH or Allah are different from medieval ones. Jesus and Gautama Buddha did not become gods until many years after they had died. And so on. Likewise, Inari is not the same as s/he used to be. For a long time, s/he was primarily associated with rice, and worshipped as the deity responsible for plentiful rice harvests. In modern times, however, s/he has come to be associated with success in business. Many Japanese companies have rituals performed for Inari, and let their employees pray to him/her. Accordingly, s/he is one of the most popular deities of the country, if not the most. I like gods who are flexible and pragmatic.

Thus, Inari is the main deity associated with success and material wealth. However, that does not mean Inari worship is merely materialistic, and devoid of spiritual elements. Quite the contrary, I would say, for Inari worship tends to be highly idiosyncratic, personal and devotional.

Last Sunday, I went to the most important Inari shrine in the country: the Fushimi Inari Taisha, located in the south of Kyoto. The main shrine is composed of several large, fairly new red-white buildings. The road from the train station to the entrance is lined with souvenir shops and restaurants, and there are small shops on the shrine precincts as well. Inari shrines are easily recognisable because of two defining characteristics: large numbers of red torii gates, big and small; and pairs of fox statues in front of some of the gates. Usually, one of them has a key in its mouth, the other a jewel.

The Fushimi Inari Taisha probably has more torii than any other shrine complex in the country, for the entire mountain behind the main shrine building is full of them. One can climb the mountain - a two-hour walk - while continuously walking through tunnels of red torii, all of them offered and paid for by companies and individuals asking for Inari's blessing. In addition, the mountain is full of small subshrines and altars, representing a variety of religious practices and beliefs. Further away, one can find small shrines and temples belonging to a variety of new religious movements, small waterfalls for mountain ascetic practices, a Taoist temple and places where shamanic rituals are performed. In sum, this is a place that challenges ordinary classification models. For those who are interested in reading more, I recommend this article.

Last weekend, Fushimi Inari Taisha was extremely crowded, as the shrine complex celebrated its 1300th anniversary. Thousands of visitors offered gifts (money, food or alcoholic beverages), attended ritual meetings, bought amulets and prayed. They attended free concerts, stand-up comedy, sword fighting exhibitions and traditional theatre performances, which all took place at the shrine precincts. And they climbed the mountain. In the evening, because of this special occasion, the torii tunnels and subshrines on top of the mountain were all illuminated by electric lanterns. It was a wonderful sight; a waste of energy, perhaps, but beautiful and mysterious. I climbed the mountain in the evening, in the semi-dark, surrounded by lanterns, red torii and fox statues. It was a unique experience. The god did not seem very far away.

Some pictures: