the significance of jizo

jizo, the god of little children and the god who makes calm the troubled sea, is certainly the most lovable of the buddhist divinities, though kwannon, the goddess of mercy, has somewhat similar attributes. the most popular gods, be they of the east or west, are those gods with the most human qualities. jizo, though of buddhist origin, is essentially japanese, and we may best describe him as being the creation of innumerable japanese women who have longed to project into the infinite, into the shrouded beyond, a deity who should be a divine father and mother to the souls of their little ones. and this is just what jizo is, a god essentially of the feminine heart, and not a being to be tossed about in the hair-splitting debates of hoary theologians. a study of the nature and characteristics of jizo will reveal all that is best in the japanese woman, for he assuredly reveals her love, her sense of the beautiful, and her infinite compassion. jizo has all the wisdom of the lord buddha himself, with this important difference, namely, that jizo has waived aside nirvana, and does not sit upon the golden lotus, but has become, through an exquisitely beautiful self-sacrifice, the divine playmate and protector of japanese children. he is the god of smiles and long sleeves, the enemy of evil spirits, and the one being who can heal the wound of a mother who has lost her child in death. we have a saying that all rivers find their way to the sea. to the japanese woman who has laid her little one in the cemetery all rivers wind their silver courses into the place where the ever-waiting and ever-gentle[pg 105] jizo is. that is why mothers who have lost their children in death write prayers on little slips of paper, and watch them float down the rivers on their way to the great spiritual father and mother who will answer all their petitions with a loving smile.

at jizo's shrine

"fronting the kindly jizo's shrine

the cherry-blooms are blowing now,

pink cloud of flower on slender bough,

and hidden tracery of line.

"rose-dawn against moss-mellowed grey,

through which the wind-tost sprays allow

glimpse of calm smile and placid brow,

of carven face where sunbeams play.

"dawn-time, i pluck a branch, and swift

flutters a flight of petals fair;

through the fresh-scented morning air

down to the waving grass they drift.

"noon-tide my idle fingers stray,

through the fair maze of bud and flower,

sending a sudden blossom-shower

from the sweet fragance-haunted spray.

"low in the west the red fire dies,

vaguely i lift my hand, but now

jizo is not—nor cherry bough—

only the dark of starless skies!"

clara a. walsh.

jizo and lafcadio hearn

lafcadio hearn, in one of his letters,[1] writes: "there is a queer custom in izumo which may interest you. when a wedding takes place in the house of an[pg 106] unpopular man in the country the young men of the village carry a roadside statue of jizo into the zashiki, and announce the coming of the god. (this is especially done with an avaricious farmer, or a stingy family.) food and wine are demanded by the god. the members of the family must come in, salute the deity, and give all the saké and food demanded while any remains in the house. it is dangerous to refuse; the young peasants would probably wreck the house. after this the statue is carried back again to its place. the visit of jizo is much dreaded. it is never made to persons who are liked."

on one occasion lafcadio hearn, who had a very warm admiration for this god, desired to restore the head and arms of a broken jizo image. his wife remonstrated with him, and we quote his quaint reply because it reminds us not a little of the last legend mentioned in this chapter: "gomen, gomen! ["forgive me!"] i thought only to give a little joy as i hoped. the jizo i wrote you about is not the thing you will find in the graveyards; but it is jizo who shall guard and pacify the seas. it is not a sad kind, but you do not like my idea, so i have given up my project. it was only papa's foolish thought. however, poor jizo-sama wept bitterly when it heard of your answer to me. i said to it, 'i cannot help it, as mamma san doubted your real nature, and thinks that you are a graveyard-keeper. i know that you are the saviour of seas and sailors.' the jizo is crying even now."

"the dry bed of the river of souls"

under the earth there is the sai-no-kawara, or "the dry bed of the river of souls." this is the place where all children go after death, children and those who have never married. here the little ones play[pg 107] with the smiling jizo, and here it is that they build small towers of stones, for there are many in this river-bed. the mothers of these children, in the world above them, also pile up stones around the images of jizo, for these little towers represent prayers; they are charms against the oni or wicked spirits. sometimes in the dry bed of the river of souls the oni for a moment gain a temporary victory, and knock down the little towers which the ghosts of children have built with so much laughter. when such a misfortune takes place the laughter ceases, and the little ones fly to jizo for protection. he hides them in his long sleeves, and with his sacred staff drives away the red-eyed oni.

the place where the souls of children dwell is a shadowy and grey world of dim hills and vales through which the sai-no-kawara winds its way. all the children are clad in short white garments, and if occasionally the evil spirits frighten them there is always jizo to dry their tears, always one who sends them back to their ghostly games again.

the following hymn of jizo, known as "the legend of the humming of the sai-no-kawara," gives us a beautiful and vivid conception of jizo and this ghostly land where children play:

the legend of the humming of the sai-no-kawara

"not of this world is the story of sorrow.

the story of the sai-no-kawara,

at the roots of the mountain of shide;—

not of this world is the tale; yet 'tis most pitiful to hear.

for together in the sai-no-kawara are assembled

children of tender age in multitude,—

infants but two or three years old,

infants of four or five, infants of less than ten:

in the sai-no-kawara are they gathered together.

[pg 108]and the voice of their longing for their parents,

the voice of their crying for their mothers and their fathers—

is never as the voice of the crying of children in this world,

but a crying so pitiful to hear

that the sound of it would pierce through flesh and bone.

and sorrowful indeed the task which they perform,—

gathering the stones of the bed of the river,

therewith to heap the tower of prayers.

saying prayers for the happiness of father, they heap the first tower;

saying prayers for the happiness of mother, they heap the second

tower;

saying prayers for their brothers, their sisters, and all whom they

loved at home, they heap the third tower.

such, by day, are their pitiful diversions.

but ever as the sun begins to sink below the horizon,

then do the oni, the demons of the hells, appear,

and say to them,—'what is this that you do here?

lo! your parents still living in the shaba-world

take no thought of pious offering or holy work:

they do nought but mourn for you from the morning unto the

evening.

oh! how pitiful! alas! how unmerciful!

verily the cause of the pains that you suffer

is only the mourning, the lamentation of your parents.'

and saying also, 'blame never us!'

the demons cast down the heaped-up towers,

they dash their stones down with their clubs of iron.

but lo! the teacher jizo appears.

all gently he comes, and says to the weeping infants:—

'be not afraid, dears! be never fearful!

poor little souls, your lives were brief indeed!

too soon you were forced to make the weary journey to the meido,

the long journey to the region of the dead!

trust to me! i am your father and mother in the meido,

father of all children in the region of the dead.'

and he folds the skirt of his shining robe about them;

so graciously takes he pity on the infants.

to those who cannot walk he stretches forth his strong shakujo,[2]

and he pets the little ones, caresses them, takes them to his loving

bosom.

so graciously he takes pity on the infants.

namu amida butsu!"[3]

lafcadio hearn.

jizo

[pg 109]

this abode of the souls of children is certainly not an ideal land. it is jizo, and not his country, who has sprung from the hearts of japanese women. the stern buddhist teaching of cause and effect, of birth and re-birth, applies to even gentle infants. but if the great wheel of existence revolves with unerring force, and only fails to move when the desire for not-being is finally attained in nirvana, jizo lovingly stands at the foot of destiny and makes easy the way where the feet of little children so softly patter.

the cave of the children's ghosts

there is a cave in japan known as kyu-kukedo-san, or ancient cavern, and far within its recess there is to be found an image of jizo, with his mystic jewel and sacred staff. before jizo there is a little torii[4] and a pair of gohei,[5] both symbols of the shinto faith; but, as lafcadio hearn observes, "this gentle divinity has no enemies; at the feet of the lover of children's ghosts both creeds unite in tender homage." here it is that the ghosts of little children meet, softly whispering together as they stoop hither and thither in order to build their towers of stones. at night they creep over the sea from their dry bed of the river of souls, and cover the sand in the cavern with their ghostly footsteps, building, ever building those prayers of stone, while jizo smiles down upon their loving labour. they depart before the rising of the sun, for it is said that the dead fear to gaze upon the sun goddess, and most especially are these infants afraid of her bright gold eyes.

[pg 110]

the fountain of jizo

another beautiful sea-cave contains the fountain of jizo. it is a fountain of flowing milk, at which the souls of children quench their thirst. mothers suffering from want of milk come to this fountain and pray to jizo, and mothers having more milk than their infants require pray to the same god that he may take some of their milk and give it to the souls of children in his great shadowy kingdom. and jizo is said to answer their prayers.

how jizo remembered

a woman named soga sadayoshi lived by feeding silkworms and gathering their silk. one day, on a visit to the temple of ken-cho-ji, she thought that an image of jizo looked cold, and went home, made a cap, returned with it, and set it upon jizo's head, saying: "would i were rich enough to give thee a warm covering for all thine august body; but, alas! i am poor, and even this which i offer thee is unworthy of thy divine acceptance."

in her fiftieth year the woman died, and as her body remained warm for three days her relatives would not consent to her burial. on the evening of the third day, however, much to the surprise and joy of those about her, she came to life once more.

shortly after the woman had resumed her work again she narrated how her soul had appeared before the great and terrible emma-Ō, lord and judge of the dead, and how that dread being had been angry with her because, contrary to buddha's teaching, she had killed innumerable silkworms. emma-Ō was so angry that he ordered her to be thrown into a pot filled with molten metal. while she cried out in intense agony jizo came and stood beside her, and immediately the metal[pg 111] ceased to burn. after jizo had spoken kindly to the woman he led her to emma-Ō, and requested that she who had once kept warm one of his images should receive pardon. and emma-Ō granted the request of the ever-loving and compassionate god, and the woman returned to the sunny world of japan again.

[1] the japanese letters of lafcadio hearn, edited by elizabeth bisland.

[2] sacred staff.

[3] "hail, omnipotent buddha!"

[4] a gateway.

[5] "a wand from which depend strips of white paper cut into little angular bunches (gohei), intended to represent the offerings of cloth which were anciently tied to branches of the sacred cleyera tree at festival time."—b. h. chamberlain.