In Tokyo, the two most ubiquitous structures are convenience stores and shrines. And the border between the secular and the spiritual is startlingly porous. Komyoji temple is an unassuming building adjacent to the teeming entrance of Kamiyacho metro station, a bustling Tokyo neighbourhood. But inside, it feels hundreds of years distant.
The main altar is located on the second floor. A gilt-painted, wooden statue of the Amitabha Buddha is surrounded by lacquered altar tables and candles. A door leads out onto an open balcony with views of the temple’s cemetery. It is to this temple that a 38-year-old monk, Shoukei Matsumoto, belongs. There is little in his appearance — shaved head, navy-blue tunic, baggy trousers — that indicates anything out of the ordinary, but Mr. Matsumoto is not typical.
A graduate of the Indian School of Business, this Buddhist with an MBA is leading the charge to rescue Japanese temples from their moribund present and make them relevant to Japan’s stressed-out, overworked and ageing population.
The Japanese tend to have an ambiguous relationship with religion. Although a majority identify themselves as atheists, most are nonetheless comfortable joining in religious rituals like visiting shrines during festivals. It is standard for someone to be welcomed as a baby with Shinto rites, get married in a Christian ceremony and be buried with Buddhist rituals. Funerary rituals are therefore the Japanese Buddhist monk’s stock in trade. “When people think of Buddhism, they think of death, but what about life?” Mr. Matsumoto asks. A philosophy graduate from the University of Tokyo, he became ordained in the Jodo Shinshu school of Mahayana Buddhism in 2003 when he was only 23 years old.
Temples’ challenges
Traditionally, the cremated remains of neighbourhood families were buried in a temple’s grounds. These families contributed donations for the temple’s upkeep, which, along with the cost of graveyard plots and maintenance fees, kept the temples financially afloat. But an exodus from the countryside to the cities, coupled with an increasing trend towards secular funerals, has meant that tens of thousands of temples are in danger of closing down within the next decade.
Mr. Matsumoto became convinced that a temple based entirely on revenue from graves and funerals was unviable. In 2010, he applied for an MBA from the Indian School of Business (ISB) in Hyderabad. India, he says, was the birthplace of many spiritual gurus and he felt a deep “soul connection” to the country.
Mr. Matsumoto was both the first Japanese and the first monk to study at the ISB. He found the experience thought-provoking. After returning to Japan, Mr. Matsumoto began to conduct temple management seminars. He usually holds six every year and over 400 priests have attended so far. The ideas generated include ways to raise revenue and relevance by instituting meditation courses, temple stays, supporting volunteer activities and hosting music and theatre productions. High-tech graveyards, where urns are stored in lockers and made available on conveyor belts to relatives wielding smart tags, have also started to combat the space crunch in traditional cemeteries.
Comparing the success of Vipassana, a globally popular form of meditation retreat, to Japanese Buddhism, Mr. Matsumoto describes the former as an app that can be accessed immediately, while the latter is more like an invisible operating system. Luckily for Japan, he might just be the person to give Buddhism here a 21st century “update”.
Pallavi Aiyar is a journalist and author based in Tokyo