Hokongoin -
The Lotus in the Mud

In the northern part of Kyoto, not far from Hanazono, three hills lie close together. From north to south gradually getting lower, they are called Ichi no Oka, Ni no Oka, and San no Oka and together they form Narabigaoka, the Lined-Up Hill. Its elegant shape has inspired many ancient poems. At the base of the hill stand several temples: Ninnaji, Myoshinji and Hokongoin. The famous Kamakura Period writer Kenko Hoshi (1283 - 1352) also used to live in this area. Kenko is known for the Tsuzuregusa, a collection of short statements and essays around the theme of how to live well in a world that is growing steadily worse.

I have come to Hokongoin, today a small temple right on busy Marutamachi Street close to JR Hanazono Station, to see its statues. The temple has a famous Buddha Amida with a soft face. It is a warm and languorous summer day, one of the times you only want cold noodles and iced tea. The heavy air hangs around me like a damp blanket. I am not prepared at all for the temple garden with its lotus pond. One step from the busy road is the ticket office, one step more takes me around a corner and right into an unexpected Elysium.

The lotus pond

Lotus Paradise
Nirvana is a mass of red, yellow and pink lotus flowers, slowly swaying on their long stems. As lotus flowers bloom only for a few days, opening each day at dawn and closing in the course of the afternoon, it is sheer luck to come upon such a wild riot of flowering lotuses. The pond is so densely covered with lotus leaves that no water is visible. It could be a pasture instead of a pool. There are also flowers in porcelain pots and these I can approach for a close-up look. I notice that inside the lotus flower sits an oval receptacle that contains the seeds. Pierced with holes, it looks like a miniature beehive.

Lotus flowers originated in India, and like Buddhism, reached Japan via China. They grow in ponds, marshes and paddy fields. Most of the time, a lotus lives under water, deep in the mud, where the rhizome, or underground stem, thrives. These underwater stems, by the way, are quite delicious, so it comes as no surprise that under the name renkon one finds them on the Japanese dining table. The leaves growing from this stem float on the surface of the water.

Then the wonder happens. From this ungainly combination, a long straight stalk rises up above the murky water and at its tip, a large, fragrant flower is born. Thus, in the Asian tradition, the lotus symbolizes the Buddhist condition: as humans erring in the mud of the world's imperfections, we have the capacity to rise above that and attain enlightenment, just as the lotus rises above the mud to bloom.

A single lotus flower rising from the mud

Amida's Paradise
Hokongoin is blissfully off the beaten track, although today's flowers have attracted more visitors than usual. Of the original temple, which possessed large halls and a pagoda, nothing remains. In early Heian, the temple came into being by converting the mountain villa of the courtier Kiyohara no Natsuno and naming it Narabigaokadera. There are many temples in Kyoto that likewise originated in aristocratic villas. Kiyohara planted plum trees and bush clover and that is how the whole area received the name it still carries, Hanazono or "Flower Garden."

The scenery was so captivating that Emperor Ninmyo, who viewed it from a small hill behind the estate, entitled that hill to Jugo-I, the Fifth Court Rank. This is the origin of its present name, Goizan, which has also become the 'mountain name' of the temple. Later in the 9th century Emperor Montoku would elevate the chapel to the status of an official temple recognized by the state and the name was then changed to Tenanji. It had the considerable number of 80 monks, but its fortune lasted not more than a century. In 974 there was a big fire and since then the temple was almost abandoned.

In 1130, the temple was revived by Taikenmonin (1101-1145), one of the wives of the Retired Emperor Toba. She became the mother of the later emperors Sutoku and Goshirakawa and her political clout led to the establishment of a large estate, a temple situated on a pond and a palace-style villa. It was Taikenmonin who changed the temple name into Hokongoin. The temple's pond was dug at the foot of Goizan Hill and on the west bank stood an Amida Hall, in the direction of this Buddha's Western Paradise. Rinken, a priest from nearby Ninnaji, was responsible for the layout of the garden. Taikenmonin had her residence to the east of the pond, so that she could gaze at paradise from her rooms. After her death, she was buried in the temple grounds and her grave is now on the hill behind Hokongoin.

The temple was visited by many poets and became a famous natural beauty spot. The poet-priest Saigyo (1118-1190) was one of them. He revisited the temple after Taikenmonin's death and sadly remembered the golden days when Taikenmonin with a bevy of ladies-in-waiting had hosted parties to view the autumn leaves (momiji). He wrote to one of them in remembrance:

gazing at autumn leaves
your long sleeves
must be soaked with chilly rain
remembering
autumns of long ago

The daughter of Taikenmonin, Josaimonin, further enlarged the temple by adding a Southern Hall, also located at the pond. The opening ceremony was held by an imperial priest from nearby Ninnaji, with the Retired Emperor Goshirakawa attending. In the Kamakura period a priest from Nara's Toshodaiji, Engaku, took over the temple and changed it to the Risshu affiliation. The temple also became a center of Yuzu Nembutsu, a popular movement whose followers believed that salvation would permeate (yuzu)the world by calling constantly upon the name of the Buddha Amida (Nembutsu). Unfortunately, during the Onin wars of the fifteenth century all buildings were destroyed and the oldest halls now are the Raido and Sutra Library, dating from the seventeenth century.

In fact, the garden, too, is a reconstruction. It was laid out in its present incarnation after excavations in 1970 had revealed the form of the original Heian period garden. The small waterfall to the north of the pond, Seijo no Taki, is supposed to be an element of that original garden. If that were correct, it would be the oldest garden waterfall in Japan.

Lotus unfolding

Swaying in the Breeze
The statues I originally came for are housed in a concrete storehouse behind the temple. In the center sits a joroku (sixteen foot tall) Amida, a masterwork by Ingaku (fl. 1110-1140), the third master of the In-School, who worked in a refined style suiting the taste of the late-Heian aristocracy. The style reminds me of the famous Amida by Jocho in the Byodoin Temple in Uji. This statue must have been the Amida of Taikenmonin's paradise hall. The more than two meter tall, seated Buddha exudes infinite peace. He sits in the lotus position and his hands make the meditation mudra. After the almost "protestant" austerity of Higashi Honganji, I am grateful for this artistic support of the imagination. If this is what Amida looks like, it indeed becomes possible to conceive having faith in him.

There are more statues. In a zushi (altar cabinet) stands a small and fragile looking Eleven-headed Kannon. The carving is very delicate, perhaps even too intricate. This is the aristocratic style going over its top. Then there is a realistic Monju Bosatsu in the form of an emaciated priest, and a beautiful wooden Jizo.

After leaving the statue hall, I wander back to the explosion of lotuses. The lotus is not only a symbol of Buddhism and the title of one the most famous sutras in Japan, the lotus pond is also a visualization of Amida's paradise. Nothing could be more fitting than to have a lotus pond in front of the hall where the Amida, the Buddha of the Western Paradise, holds sway. Here all true believers will be reborn in their future lives and they will sit on just such lotus flowers, gently swaying in a cool breeze.

The Pond