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2005, Dharma School 50th Anniversary YearGolden Anniversary Celebration
Special Pilgrimage Tour
The Atomic Bomb and the Nembutsu (Message given
to Venice Hongwanji Dharma School, August 4, 2005 at Jouhou-ji) Welcome
to Hiroshima, and to our temple, Jouhou-ji, today. We eagerly awaited your
arrival. I am the resident priest of Jouhou-ji. My name is Ryoga Suwa.
Also with me is the temple’s bomori, my wife, Ruriko and the assistant
resident priest Juyuu. Also, let me introduce our Fujinkai president Mrs.
Inouye and vice-president Mrs. Matsumae. Finally, allow me to introduce
the president of our young Fujinkai Mrs. Saruyoshi, and our other Fujinkai
members. I was
previously a Kaikyoshi or overseas missionary to South America for three
years beginning in 1960. When I went to South America it was a 40-day trip
by boat, although I was able to return by plane. Both times I was able to
visit and have a service at the Los Angeles Betsuin. The Rinban of the
Betsuin was also a native of Hiroshima, Reverend Ryuei Masuoka, and he
helped me out while I was in Los Angeles. If memory serves me correctly I
believe he had a lot to do with the Venice Hongwanji as well. When I heard
that a group was visiting from the Venice Hongwanji it brought back
memories of that time. Well,
it was 60 years ago on August 6th at 8:15 a.m., 160 meters
southeast from the Genbaku (A-bomb) dome at an elevation of 580 meters
that the world’s first Atomic Bomb was detonated. In that instant the
heat rays reached a temperature of 1 million degrees centigrade; a second
later the fireball reached its greatest radius of 200 meters. The surface
reached temperatures of 3,000 to 4,000 degrees Celsius and the windblast
reached speeds of near mach 2 or 700 meters. Above this, however, people
and buildings were demolished due to the radiation: an area of four square
Kilometers was instantly turned into a barren field. When
the bomb was dropped this temple was originally located in the area that
you are planning to visit later, the peace park. It stood roughly 10
meters west from the Atomic Bomb Peace Monument. Presently, no one lives
on the grounds where the peace park is, but prior to the bomb there were
many homes lining the streets; it was bustling with people who made their
lives there. Especially until about 1925 it was the center of town. I
remember it in my youth. It was lined with all sorts of stores and places
to stay. There were movie theaters and restaurants. Although the exact
figures don’t exist, according to one historical document there were
1,300 households listed with 4,400 people living in the area. But it
wasn’t just the people living in the area. At the time of the Atomic
bombing, in the area that is now known as the great road for peace, there
was the office of forced relocation to the undeveloped areas of Japan
where 1,000 people were employed. They came from the city and outlying
areas. Furthermore, to help with their work 1st and 2nd
year middle school students from 11 middle schools or about 2,000 students
were also employed. Then, there was the regional office and the regional
hospital whose employees and others lost their lives to the bomb. Also in
the area was 10 temples from different schools of Buddhism. After the war,
according to the city plan, the area was made into a landfill and became a
park area. If you were to dig about a meter down, even now you will find
human remains. In my
family there were my parents and a sister who was four years older than
me. In the spring of 1945, when it seemed certain that Japan would lose
the Pacific war, it was decided that the young elementary school children
would be sent to the country in order to escape the air raid bombings.
Because the 260 students from the Nakajima Elementary School that I
attended was relocated to one of seven temples or shrines in the Mira saka
area roughly 70 kilometers from the city I was saved. August
6, the Atomic bomb was dropped over Hiroshima. Hiroshima was annihilated.
Because there were children from the area closest to the epicenter or
Nakajima Machi, Zaimoku-cho at Kouzen-ji, the temple that took care of me
in my evacuation, there were many who lost their parents and their entire
families to the bomb. Even if they didn’t lose their entire families,
just about everyone there lost atleast somebody to the bomb. Even I lost
my parents and older sister; I became all alone. I was in the sixth grade.
I was 12 years old. This was something that I couldn’t even imagine. I
hadn’t even seen a corpse before. I didn’t want to believe this
reality. They must have escaped, and survived. Maybe they will come and
pick me up today; maybe they will come pick me up tomorrow. I waited. But
there was no truth to this reality. When evening came, everyone sat on the
stone steps of the temple, and while looking at the evening sky above
Hiroshima days passed in our crying. Following this, relatives did come to
gather the small children, and one by one the number of evacuee children
become fewer. My
cousin came to pick me up. We got on the Geibi train line and got off at
the Hiroshima station. I just stood there in a stupor looking at the
completely transformed city of Hiroshima. It was a little more than a
month after the dropping of the bomb. It was September 16th. As
I looked at the scene, at the red burned field that was Hiroshima, the
only scenery that didn’t change was Nino-jima (island), the little Mt.
Fuji that floats on the Hiroshima gulf. From the station we walked along
the streetcar rails. We passed the Aioi Bridge that had been raised by the
blast into a T-shape and entered Nakajima. Standing along the ruins of
homes that had been completely burned away, with a very empty feeling in
my heart I wondered what is the future going to be like, what is going to
happen? This feeling that I had while looking around at the devastation is
something that, even now, I cannot forget. War is not something that is
simply done by soldiers who bear weapons; it is not something that only
soldiers are influenced by. When wars start, the elderly the young, male
and female, everyone is caught in the spiral. It is here that the danger
and sadness of war can be found. Whenever
we talk about war or peace, words such as, “Nobody likes war; everyone
loves peace” are often said. However, the reality of the matter is, from
the beginning of human history to the present we have never put an end to
war. In other words, it isn’t an overstatement to say that the history
of human kind is the history of war. How do we overcome this
contradiction? From
another perspective, there are also those who defiantly say, ”Because
humans are animals as well, we possess an aggressive survival instinct.
Because of this wars will never end.” However, an Austrian behavioral
zooligist states, “In the animal world there is, without a doubt, the
struggle of the survival of the fittest. This is because if you don’t
eat, you don’t survive. You hunt and make prey of those that are weaker
than you. It is not a fight because of an aggressive instinct. Moreover,
in the animal world, a balance is created where both are mutually
supported even amidst this struggle. In other words, the instincts of
animals are in synch with the larger rhythm of nature; there is no
transgression from this natural rhythm.” The actions of humans, on the
other hand, are different. This is especially true now, where we hold
arsenals of nuclear and chemical weapons: we have come to the point where
there is the fear of destroying the planet. War is not something based on
the animal nature we possess as humans, but is absolutely something
particular to humans. When
wars arise, both sides carry the great moral duty of protecting justice or
of protecting freedom. Then, together, we contend that the other is wrong,
and that we are right. Even Japan called a war it didn’t have to wage a
“holy war.” In this
way, the acts of brutality that the Japanese army inflicted in China and
Southeast Asia, the genocidal activities of the Nazis against the Jews,
and even the dropping of a nuclear device by the United States were all
done for the sake of shortening the war. This is how we attempt to make
these kinds of acts seem reasonable. If we shout out, “No more
Hiroshima,” then there is the response, “Remember Pearl Harbor.” It
is here, I believe, that the idea of “I alone am right” can be found
within humans or within nations. As a prison chaplain, I meet with people
who have committed crimes. When I spoke with one such person, the
conversation turned to a discussion about the brutality of war. When I
stated that, “Wars are an abnormal condition. I believe that under these
circumstances the psychological condition of humans also becomes
abnormal,” he replied by saying, “I wonder if it is really an abnormal
condition. Rather, isn’t what we think and what we do at those times the
true character of a human being?” When he said that I felt as if I was
dropped into cold water. Shinran Shonin, himself, said, “When those
Karmic Conditions arise, we are able to do (just about) anything.” When
thinking this way, it gives rise to the thought that within our humanity
there is nothing that allows us to dispute the inevitability of war.
Rather, in order for us to deny completely the human idea that becomes the
foundation for war, or the idea that I alone am right, I believe that we
need to rely on a power that goes beyond the human perspective; this is
the only path open to us. Shotoku
Taishi stated, “The world is false, only the Buddha is true.” Shinran
Shonin stated, “Foolish beings fulfilled in their passions, this world
that is like the burning house of impermanence, all things without
exception are without truth; the Nembutsu alone is true.” I believe that
we need to turn our ears to hear these words again. We are
allowed to discover the frightening reality created by the idea that I
alone am right as expressed in the statement, “I am right, you are
wrong.” I believe that the beginning of peace can be found within the
Buddha’s great compassion, or the heart that takes the same perspective
and feels the same sadness as the other, the heart that feels all people
and all things are all life that must be saved. On
March 6, 1982, in front of the Atomic Bomb peace memorial, Monshu Ohtani
Koshin of the Hongwanji emphasized in his talk Words
for Peace, “Only after reflecting on the fact that I created pain
for myself and I created pain for many others, will the desire for peace
have any power.” The
history of our planet is said to be about 460 million years. Within this
history, life has worked very hard to preserve itself. This life should
not be destroyed by the whims of our humanity. Instead, we should discover
our foolishness and work to halt our arrogance. |