Let me take you on a journey! In 1997, I embarked upon a Wisdom Tour of Japan. My adventures began with a course entitled "East Asian Religious Heritage" at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, CA where I studied to become a minister. The class was a survey of Confucianism, Taoism, Shinto, and Buddhism. As a lifelong Unitarian Universalist, I have been drawn to Eastern Spirituality since childhood when I first learned about Buddhism in UU Sunday School. This Graduate level course was taught by a team of three professors who each had an area of expertise, which allowed us to go into depth about each tradition.

I can still see in my mind's eye the flyer that Professor Nakasone handed out the very first day of class announcing a Wisdom Tour that he was planning at the end of the semester. I took the flyer home and hung it up on my bulletin board. While I was studying that term, my eyes kept shifting to the image of the Buddha at the top of the flyer. I was captivated by my studies and have a special interest in how the visual arts inform religion. This was the perfect opportunity to not only learn from books, but to experience first hand. So at last, I signed up for the Wisdom Tour-- a trip that remains one of the most memorable of my life. The destinations were Kyoto and Nara, the areas that have preserved the most traditionally Japanese style. The itinerary included many Shinto Shrines, Buddhist Temples, and a few Universities. Ron (as I now refer to Professor Nakasone) and his wife Irene, who also led the tour, had lived in Kyoto for seven years while he was studying to become a Buddhist priest.

Some of you may remember my sermon about Buddhism, which also drew from this trip but today I turn my attention to the more ancient tradition of Shinto. Of all the Eastern religions, Shinto is either completely unknown or very mysterious. For those of you who suffered through the trails of the Second World War, Shinto may conjure images of Japanese nationalistic fervor. This faith is so deeply rooted in Japanese culture, that it is a spiritual underpinning of all acts of patriotism. However, its tenants are not hostile. In this sermon, I wish to impart what I found to be the profoundly sacred nature of this indigenous Japanese faith.

The closest translation of Shinto is "The Way of the Kami". Sometimes the translation appears in Western texts as "The Way of the Gods" but this translation is really inaccurate. So, if they are not all Gods what exactly is a Kami? The story of the Sun Goddess offers a colorful picture of the wide variety of Kami from cosmic elements like the sun, moon and stars to weather conditions like thunder, lightning, and tidal waves. The Kami Way reveres all the mystic forces of nature. This includes facets of nature that even a Westerner would find awe-inspiring like mountains, waterfalls and rivers. However what I find compelling is that ancient trees, strangely formed rocks, spirits of ancestors and even "uncanny" animals like foxes and badgers are also regarded as sacred and are to be treated with reverence.

Through our tour of Nara and Kyoto, I was taken with the beautiful gardens and landscaping. Azalea bushes for example! Azaleas bloomed in vibrant lush color because they had been meticulously cared for both their shape and health. Trees were carefully pruned and sometimes trained with elaborate braces. I mention this because the attention to the natural world was consistent wherever we went. It made real the fact that Shinto shrines first appeared in natural places like on mountains or by waterfalls because of a deep spiritual appreciation.

Early on in the trip, we visited the Imperial Palace where our tour guide spoke English with a heavy accent and wore white lacy gloves. When asked about the difference between Shinto and Buddhism, she said something which stuck with me, "Shinto- happy occasion. Buddhism- unhappy occasion." Most Japanese are both Shintoists and Buddhists without contradiction. The Shinto shrines are places of celebration especially on the New Year, weddings, and for Harvest Festivals. In Japan, Buddhist Temples are often where funerals and memorials are held.

So, it seemed only fitting that when we visited Ise Dai Jingu, the most holy of the Shinto shrines, the sun was shining brightly and the air was pleasant. The sun goddess Amaterasu is worshiped at Ise and has a special relationship with the Imperial family. The Inner Shrine remains cloistered from the general public where the Emperor performs secret rites. Entrance is restricted to the Imperial family. However, worshipers may enter the large compound and present offerings at any of the shrines of the lesser kami, fourteen in all.

Every Japanese person is expected to make a pilgrimage to Ise at least once in his or her lifetime. Ise is the most ancient example of Japanese architecture and is the most pure. It is built entirely with cypress. The wood is not painted nor stained but weathers with natural radiance. Not a single nail is used in its assembly. Instead the wood is planed with precision to fit together seamlessly. Japanese artisans feel that sanding and nailing are marks of poor tools and skills. I speak of the artisans in the present tense because although Ise is an ancient site, the structures are rebuilt every twentieth year. During the past 1300 years, the shrine has been reconstructed fifty-nine times!

The gateway into Shinto shrines is known as Torii and marks the sacred realm from the profane. The Torii consists of two thick logs that are slightly splayed, a horizontal beam crosses the top, and another horizontal beam below. A shime-nawa or sacred rope is hung on the Torii. This represents the rope used by the kami to block Amaterasu's return to the Cave of Heaven. Such ropes are hung at all Shinto shrines and sacred sites. The shime-nawa is believed to serve as protection from evil. As I stood before this tall cypress gateway with straight lines and flaxen rope draped across, the simple elegance was inviting.

I had to resist rushing through the gateway. First, I needed to prepare myself by performing an act of purification. At the temizuya there were wooden dippers to fill with water at the long stone basin. I splashed cool water over my hands and face. This is meant to remove evil and pollution so that the worshipper is pure when offering prayers at the shrine. I found this simple act innately satisfying.

As I entered through the Torii, I was enveloped by a total sensual experience. The individual shrines are nestled in an ancient grove of pine and chamaecyparis trees. Our group who had often been chatty on other expeditions fell into a silent reverence. Nature has a central role in Shinto. Earth is perceived as the embodiment of the sacred. The constructions were not in defiance of nature but were an integral part of the landscape. As I moved through the compound, I was filled with a sense of peace and connection to an ancient heritage.

With this was also a sense of mystery. There are no images of kami nor famous personages at Ise Dai Jingu. Paintings and statues are non-existent. The kami are belived to be in evidence in the structures but the sacred objects which represent them are not visible to the worshiper. The sacred mirror which represents Amaterasu may not be gazed upon even by the Emperor himself. Each shrine is approached from the outside, money is offered, the worshiper claps three times to get the kami's attention, and prays with a bowed head.

One of the larger shrines had several rows of fences all made with precision from cypress. The main building could only be viewed by peaking over the innermost fence and a white curtain covered the entrance way. When I threw a few yen into the offertory box, clapped and bowed my head with the other worshipers, the curtain lifted. There was an audible gasp! The shrine was revealed. It was as if the kami was greeting us. The sight of that pure white curtain billowing upward for a moment was breathtakingly beautiful. So in this sense, awe comes as much from what is seen as from what is hidden.

Basho, the famous haiku master, expressed a sense of awe and spiritual fulfillment in a poem he wrote at the Ise shrines:

I can not tell what flower it came from,
But an unnameable fragrance filled me.

Shinto is the indigenous Japanese faith. Above all else, I was struck by the physical expression of the ideal. Through direct experience, I understood that nature is the embodiment of the sacred at Ise. Sokyo Ono has written an informative little book called "Shinto-The Kami Way". Unlike most of the world's religions, Shinto has no formal theology or sacred texts. Ono explains what seems incomprehensible to the Western mind, "How then has this faith been transmitted from generation to generation, from century to century, through more than two millenniums? It has been caught not taught. Dependence has been placed almost entirely on the sensory appeal of the rites and festivals, as well as the shrines themselves." (p. 92)

One of the things that was great fun on the Wisdom tour was that although we had a core group of ten from the Graduate Theological Union, people joined us at different points along the way. Akiko was a Japanese American who had lived in Berkeley while growing up and now teaches English in Tokyo. She was a friend of one of the members of the tour and joined us for two days in Kyoto. I learned a lot from Akiko because she had an understanding of both Japanese and American cultures. When we described our itinerary of visiting Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples she said, "Shinto is not really a religion, is it? it's more like Fourth of July and Thanksgiving." She described the New Year's celebration she attended at the local shrine with her family. Each year without fail they purchased a devotional plaque for their family altar for good luck. She said that they never discussed Shinto as a religion but the festivals were joyous occasions. Like Ono said Shinto is "caught not taught."

Our responsive reading this morning was from the Ute Indians of North America. The words highlight that great wisdom is to be found not only in traveling to far-off lands, but can be discovered in relationship with the earth right under our feet. The stones, trees, and even the ants have lessons to teach if we but take the time to be taught.

I am going to close with a poem by Chief Dan George who also speaks the wisdom of a Native American tradition. That is our indigenous faith.

The beauty of the trees,
the softness of the air,
the fragrance of the grass,
speaks to me.
The summit of the mountain,
the thunder of the sky,
the rhythm of the sea,
speaks to me.
The faintness of the stars,
the freshness of the morning,
the dewdrop of the flower,
speaks to me.

This is an invitation to slow down in order to experience a language beyond words. As we are in the midst of the Summer season enter into direct relationship with nature. Make it your spiritual practice to notice the ancient trees, the strange-shaped rocks. Take a moment to bow in gratitude, awe and sheer delight. To touch, to smell, to see, to feel, and to listen in order to recognize the sacredness that surrounds us each moment.

The strength of fire,
the taste of salmon,
the trail of the sun,
and the life that never goes away,
they speak to me.

And my heart soars.