An Atheist in the Religious Universe of Kyoto

To start with, I, Mr. Doan, am not a religious person at all. As a matter of fact, I regard the entire concept of religion as blind and absolutely preposterous. I am, however, not here to attempt to convert anyone to my side of the spectrum. This "guide" will serve only as a textual representation of the amazing things I saw at a temple named "Sanjusangen-Do" in Kyoto, Japan.

The name "Sanjusangen-Do" means (roughly) the hall of 33 bays. While it's rather anti-climactic, the temple itself proves as the source of inspiration. It is a rather simple looking building constructed of wood and is of remarkable length. The upkeep is taken care of by the temple priests that watch over the historic site with utmost care.

Where churches and cathedrals are known for their complex and often beautiful architecture, Sanjusangen-Do is quite the opposite. It looks merely like an extremely long building atop gravel. There are sections of garden that somehow add to the simplicity of the setting (a paradox, I'm sure). There are other parts of the complex including a donation/gift site, a well with blessed water, and a fence in which some visitors tie paper fortunes they receive. I personally received a fortune with a headline that read "VERY BAD"...

Quite possibly the most astonishing thing about the temple is what is within it. Inside its un-air conditioned walls, there are rows of "Kannon"s intricately carved and then adorned with gold leaf. In all, there are 1,001 figures standing silently. The pictures hardly incite the feeling of quiet piety that resides throughout the hall. The figures are all unique in some way and were carved by the most prestigious woodworkers of their day. The brochures that were dispensed to the visitors made a mention that many of the Sanjusangen-Do's visitors attempt to find the likeness of loved ones in the faces of the 1,001 Kannons that are on display. I couldn't help myself--I found myself trying to find a statue that wore the expression of each person of my family.

The most interesting aspect of the trip was the epiphany I had whilst browsing the statues. The people who were looking at the statues so intensely they had furrowed brows were usually elderly. Seeing these old men and women walk back and forth talking to their friends or family about the resemblances of such a statute to someone in their family was uplifting in a way I could not explain. Religion inspires people to be content and others to kill. The latter I believe the world could do without, but if only people could see that religion could be used to give an old timer an hour of perfect contentment, maybe they'd think twice about the values they've absorbed from their religion. There were some visitors, however, that walked the route alone. I imagined that perhaps seeing these statues gave them comfort. I would conjure up a story about how all of their family and friends passed away and the only way they could get through the day was thinking that somewhere, in these 1,001 statues, was the face of their mother telling them not to worry about her or their best friend telling them to take it easy until their time comes. Maybe I don't agree in believing an omniscient figure residing in the void, but I do believe that the sort of happiness an old man receives seeing the face of his son who lives in Tokyo and doesn't even care to call him in a face carved hundreds of years ago can bring peace.

Inside the hall, the wood is ornamented with many Buddhist plaques and artifacts. The history of the hall is notable. The famous Miyamoto Musashi fought a duel on its grounds and an archery contest is held in which some people fire thousands of arrows over a span of 24 hours every spring. With the attention to even the most minute of details the monks give, Rengeo-In (the official name of the temple) should stand for a long, long time, allowing more generations of a nation forgetting its roots to connect with a physical remnant of history.