Japanese religious organizations and activists have hurried to establish
their presence somehow on the Internet. However, some important
distinctions about this use have to be made.

One might imagine that in this age of new technologies advancing through a globalized culture, the relations between religions and the media would assume rather similar characteristics wherever you go. However, this is not always the case. Therefore, after noting some widely recognized features of "mediatized" religion worldwide, I will present here some key features of the Japanese scene in this regard, concentrating in particular on the use of the Internet in the communication of religious systems. At the same time, other media are important in Japan, too, as everywhere, so I will begin with some general remarks.

During a recent visit to Brazil, I was struck by the constant battle for attention on the TV channels among various kinds of Protestant religions, supposedly "charismatic" (i.e., moved by the Holy Spirit) but in fact highly manipulated, and Catholic media shows emanating from nationally popular shrines such as Aparecida or the media village Cancao Nova (New Song). Whether Catholic or charismatic, the originating churches are believed to be the locus of miracles of healing. However that may be, it seems that there is some kind of daily shouting or singing match transmitted on endlessly running channels. Such is the competition for market share in the world of religious provision. Commercialized religious channels are also found in other parts of the world, not least in North America and Europe, and in the latter case there is a strong North American missionary aspect. However, they are not really characteristic of Japan. There the religions that advertise themselves strongly often do so in the printed media, taking whole sections in the daily newspapers or advertising their publications and services in the weekly magazines.

In most European countries, religious services and talks are broadcast on publicly sponsored channels. Here the question of balance, that is, of being fair to the various religions in the country, becomes important. In Germany, for example, the religious service in the main TV slot on Sunday morning alternates between large Catholic and Protestant (Lutheran) churches. In Britain things are similar, but a greater range of churches is reflected. There is also a popular devotional program named Songs of Praise, which is broadcast from churches of various Christian denominations all over the country.

The underlying concept in these European arrangements is that religion in general is "a good thing" and that it should be given public time and media space. At the same time, the minor religions are squeezed out. Even if there has been a recent shift to benefit religious traditions of ethnic minorities, with a view to social harmony, minority new religions are regarded as a potential threat to the social balance that religion is supposed to help to maintain. The Internet shifts the balance again. For example, on the British radio program Prayer for the Day there is regular participation by Muslims, Jews, Sikhs, and Baha'is, as well as by representatives of the major Christian denominations, but no participation by members of the Unification Church, the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints (Mormons), or the Church of Scientology. But on the Internet all religions have equal access, and all interested persons also have equal access.

The situation in South Africa has been particularly interesting, in that programs on religion have quite consciously been regarded as a vehicle for nation building in the post-apartheid era. As Rosalind Hackett writes:

There have been, and still are, great hopes for the modern media to help realize the African Renaissance, in whatever modality that is imagined-cultural pride, academic recognition, spiritual rediscovery, moral renewal, informational accuracy, political freedom, economic growth or social harmony. . . . In that regard, the particular focus in this essay on religious broadcasting demonstrates the strategic role that the state can, and should, play in transitional democracies such as South Africa, in promoting religious tolerance. (Hackett 2006)

Of course this underlying approach is not without difficulties in practice, as explored authoritatively in Hackett's article.

In Japan the situation is rather different from some of these Western or developing countries with large Western-derived churches. There are no full transmissions of religious services on public channels, although there is a slot for edifying talks by leading religious personalities during low viewing times. What we do find is that regular news programs commonly end with a short clip about a current religious event or festival, taken either from Buddhism or from Shinto. These events are not presented as "religion," for the public media are not supposed to infringe the separation of religion and the public realm. Rather, they are presented as part of the general cultural pattern that the inhabitants of Japan share. However, the new religions are never included in these news items, even though in several cases their followers run into millions. They are just not regarded as part of the religiously or culturally dominant establishment. Thus, there is an unspoken control of the message by the public media, which reinforces traditional religions.

The commercial channels lose no time in reporting at length, and in the manner of rather scurrilous magazines, any problems or scandals that arise in the leadership of religious bodies. Here the new religions come in for especially heavy treatment. This attitude is the same as that found in weekly magazines. In other words, where sex and corruption are concerned, the media will report on minor religions, but not otherwise.

One theme that is taken up from time to time is the financial cost of religious services. In late 2008 there was a TV report on an independent religious group named Ho'on no Hikari (Light of Recompense), which combines three main themes in its teaching or services. The first step is to analyze one's fate (unsei) for the high fee of thirty thousand yen (about U.S.$300). Apparently, since the results of this analysis are usually unfavorable, comprehensive counseling is then called for. Typically, it then emerges that one's ancestors have been neglected, so that care for them is needed to avoid further misfortunes. This service is also provided, naturally for a fee. The impression is left that this "new religion" is little more than a new religious business, making large profits by dwelling on people's anxieties. However justified this critical journalism may have been, the problem remains that it is always small religions that tend to be attacked in the media. After all, it is well known that there is widespread dissatisfaction with the high cost of quite normal Buddhist funeral services, but this is not "news." The immense media attention given to the Aum Shinrikyo case in the 1990s, while the courts have shown that it was justified in itself, also had the effect of giving all new religions "bad press," with very negative effects on their activities.

To be fair, the more traditional religions do not completely escape attention. Another recent news item told of a sudden interest in the little-known Kabushima Shrine, located just on the coastline of Aomori Prefecture in northern Japan. The word kabu not only means "turnip," as in the name of the shrine, but also, as a pun, "stocks" or "shares" in the financial sense. At the time of the financial crash in late 2008 there began a soaring postal trade in amulets (o-mamori) from this shrine, which were ordered by securities companies for their customers. Of course, once reported on television, they could also easily be found on the Internet. Similar considerations apply to a shrine on a small island off the coast of Kyushu, whose amulets appeared to bring about lottery wins.

A field of religion that has no official existence as a registered corporation is the wide area of informal religious activity known as "spirituality," "New Age culture," or even "mysticism." These are not really appropriate designations, and indeed it is difficult to sum up this wide field of religion except as "noninstitutional." The main features are the attempt to identify one's existential situation through astrology, divination, or other means; the search for healing and a new or refreshed identity; and various ways to restructure one's life, both body and spirit, in harmony with holistic and idealistic visions of the universe. The wide interest in these themes is evidenced by innumerable publications found in bookstores, and it is also a growth area on the Internet.

As one might expect, Japanese religious organizations and activists have hurried to establish their presence somehow on the Internet. However, some important distinctions must be made. Some Japanese religious Internet sites are straightforward, informative presentations of well-established religions. These sites may be searched and viewed. Others, by contrast, invite the Internet surfer personally to participate in rituals online. That is, the user is invited to engage in religious behavior operatively by means of the site. Those who use religious Internet sites are therefore either viewers of presentational sites or actors in operational sites. In the latter case, the ritual can take place at one's own desk, insofar as keyboard keys are struck, and in one's own mind at a shrine that may exist somewhere else, or not. A second important distinction lies, therefore, in whether Internet sites relate to identifiable institutions that really exist in a place, or whether the religious institution or agency is itself virtual, that is, only virtual, having no counterpart in the religious geography of the country. Such ambiguity is typical of the Japanese cultural imagination. The widely used term interactive is too general for this analysis. It does not do justice to the religious action that is operationalized by the user. After all, even a presentational site is interactive in the simple sense that the viewer can move around within the site. The terms presentational and operational are therefore preferred in contrast to some others because they emphasize the diverse weighting of the relevant agency.¹

A typical presentational site is that of the Association of Shinto Shrines (Jinja Honcho). This is an umbrella organization for the Shinto religion, which, as it says on the site, reveres Ise Shrine as its main focus while linking together eighty thousand shrines all over Japan. The home page seeks to give an easily understood introduction to Shinto as a faith (shinko) unique to Japan. It also emphasizes reverence for the imperial family, which is identified with the centrally important Ise Shrine. The few interactive options are limited to the exploration of the site and its links. These refer to shrines that can also be located geographically. Thus, it is possible to travel around Japan, as if in real time and space, visiting the Association of Shinto Shrines, Ise Shrine, or indeed any other of the eighty thousand shrines of the country.

Of course, eighty thousand is a traditional symbolic number and does not correspond to a real set of buildings. It is an archaic hint of potential "virtuality." What, after all, is a shrine? At its simplest, a shrine is a spot where the sacred is localized, as marked by the appropriate symbols, which may be massive-or very tiny. The main hall of a shrine, where the kami themselves reside, is smaller than the hall for human visitors, which suggests that the kami have no particular size. So it may be argued that Shinto has always had an intimate relation with virtuality.

There are also operational sites in the general area of Shinto.² The practice of drawing a fortune slip (o-mikuji) is of course common at Shinto shrines. Today the Web site of Shirasagi Shrine in Tochigi Prefecture invites its visitors to draw a virtual fortune slip. The request is then sent off by e-mail. In another example, Sakura Jingu, a real shrine in Tokyo, invites surfers to perform a virtual shrine visit. That is, without ever entering Tokyo's complex underground system, one can carry out a religious "visit" (o-mairi) that corresponds in meaning to an actual one. Both of these are operational sites that correspond both in name and in the practices performed with real shrines that can be geographically located.

A site called uebbu-jingu (Web shrine) takes us further into operational virtuality. This picks up the high-sounding word jingu, for "shrine," but this jingu is not at Ise or anywhere else in the islands of Japan. It is a virtual shrine that can be accessed only via the Internet. Further clicking gives the options of drawing a fortune-telling slip or even "visiting for worship" (sanpai). A similar site is entitled "computer qualifications shrine" (denno gokaku jinja). Here we find the idea, popular among students, that a shrine is a good place to pray for the attainment of educational qualifications. Here, too, there is no corresponding shrine outside the electronic network. The click-on options are both serious and playful: "visiting the shrine" (o-mairi suru), "qualifications," "computer fortune-telling slip," "playtime," and "cherry-blossom notice board." Other sites invite the user to pay veneration to a deceased person or animal. With all of these sites, the main point is to invite ritual behavior in the form of electronic interaction.

We find that electronic representations of religion in Japan build upon six well-established characteristics of Japanese cultural style in religious matters.

1. Readiness to use technological aids in religious contexts
2. Readiness to provide abbreviations of symbols and rituals
3. Acceptance of remote access to sacred foci
4. Readiness to provide popularized representations
5. Individual control over much (though not all) religious action
6. Undefined relations between reality and unreality

Space permits only the briefest examples here.³ A nice example of item 1 is the remote-controlled Buddhist home altar, which saves walking back and forth in the room in order to open and close the doors. For item 2, we may recall the miniature Mount Fuji mounds, only a few meters high, for those who find it difficult to go on a tiresome climb for pilgrimage purposes. Turning to item 3, we note the concept common in Shinto, but not restricted to it, of "worship from afar" (yohai). This implies that one can stand before a miniature shrine anywhere in Japan and pay reverence to kami whose residence is far distant. Since there are so many potential ritual actors, we also find a wealth of popularized representations of sacred beings to be venerated (item 4), a common example being the bodhisattva Jizo, who may be found standing in a fine hall, swelling the ranks of the images in a hillside cemetery, or simply standing by the roadside. This variety of religious representations is related to the wishes of the people who have significant individual control over their religious actions (item 5). Finally, just as we have seen that reality or unreality is not an issue in Shinto, the Mahayana Buddhist refusal to discriminate between existence and nonexistence is also relevant (item 6). This final ambiguity underlies the teachings or practices of practically all Japanese religions. It is significant that all of the features named here are particularly suitable for transference to the Internet.

The Internet undoubtedly helps to maintain and develop awareness of the ideas and values associated with traditional religious institutions. Only lack of space prevents us from charting the increased global presence of well-organized Japanese religions. On the other hand, the institutionally unrelated area is being enlarged at the cost of specific religious institutions. What differential is to be expected between Japan and Europe? In Europe, it may be anticipated that the strengthening of "informal spiritualities" will continue and that more Internet use will continue to relativize institutionalized religion. In Japan, religious institutions may be able to reinforce their position by Internet sales of real products such as amulets, ancestor mementos, or devotional aids, for real money. It remains to be seen how profitable the offers for virtual benefits will become. It seems doubtful that virtual transactions will seriously reduce the need for real-space temple and shrine visits and reduce transport congestion! Because of the frequent connections between religious destinations and leisure travel, many Internet sites help to maintain interest in the real-space, institutionalized sector as well. Nevertheless, it appears that some typical characteristics of religion in Japan encourage a very special relationship between religion and the Internet.

Notes

References

Michael Pye was professor of religious studies at the University of Marburg, Germany, until 2004. He is now a visiting professor at Otani University, Kyoto. From 1995 to 2000, Dr. Pye served as president of the International Association for the History of Religions. His books include Skilful Means: A Concept in Mahayana Buddhism and MacMillan Dictionary of Religion.

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