Refreshments, Art, and Play: Reflections on Community Service

When visiting the UK last summer my wife was surprised by our experience of churches. They had art exhibitions, offerings of cake, tea and coffee, and perhaps the most impactful for my wife were the areas within church buildings where children could play with toys and read. One church we visited was running a Beatrix Potter exhibition ­– by its very nature child-centric – that combined many of the above noted elements (refreshments, art, and play) leaving a deep impression. These features appeared to the two of us to be services for the public good, which were offered regardless of the religious beliefs or intentions behind the organisers or the location they were held.

I imagine that we often do not see those things that are right in front of us – for me there was nothing revolutionary about the existence of cake or toys at a church – but neither was there much significant about it. It went unnoticed. I just subconsciously recognized these things were characteristic of countryside Anglican churches. Whilst we might be tempted to describe it as a form of Christian hospitality, for my wife it represented the provision of essential, if not occasionally novel, and free services to the public. This has often been the topic of conversation about experiences in the UK and I think that an important part for both of us was the lack of overt religion – one could eat and play, but there was no requirement to pray unless one wanted too. We chose on one occasion to light a candle and give a short prayer when touring a cathedral – something which aligns with our practice when visiting religious sites at home. However, whereas our visits to religious sites in Japan are motivated by an admixture of tourism, religious practice, general interest, and the feeling that we should do what is commonly done, we had originally visited said cathedral for a model railway exhibition that we thought our daughter might enjoy.

Perhaps none of this should have come as a surprise – in Japan, church and temple affiliated nurseries are a dime a dozen (there’s even one down the road from our house), many temple grounds in the countryside have play areas, perhaps those in the cities do too (though this is outside of my experience), and spaces adjacent to religious sites (community centres, streets, parks etc.) as well as religious sites themselves often serve as the hub for local events such as festivals which may or may not have any religious connection. Nevertheless, as far as I can tell there are two key differences based on location and form. At churches in the UK, non-religious services such as refreshment or play are often offered indoors within the space of worship, one physically enters the space to partake in the service and usually interacts with someone – either a physical person supplying food and drink etc. – or the apparition of a person – toys, tea, coffee, a kettle set out by someone else who is not currently present. This is quite different to what we have in Japan where we experience services that are located in a state of adjacency – playgrounds, nurseries and other services are often next to a religious site or within a shrine or temple precinct but set apart from the buildings used for religious purposes. The services may be closed to the general public – nurseries, for example, are only for the select few who have been able to enroll. Furthermore, there is often no interaction, even indirectly, with a religious representative of the temple or shrine. This results in a feeling of disconnect from the religious site despite being right next to it because one never fully enters and is forced to maintain a distance from the members of the religion due to a lack of direct or indirect interaction with them.

This brings me to my main point – amongst the Buddhist and Shinto clergy there appears to be a great concern about the relevance of Buddhism and Shinto in the modern day and declining numbers of adherents. These worries are seemingly shared by their Christian counterparts in the UK. Part of the response in Japan seems to be an attempt to embrace either the digital or the novel or sometimes some combination. There are a few example we can refer too. Perhaps the most famous is the robotic version of the Kannon Bodhisattva at Kōdaiji in Kyoto designed to make Buddhist teachings more accessible and spark interest in and reflection on Buddhism.[1] There is also Buddhabot – an AI app that allows users to talk with Buddha about their worries.[2] Another example is Kansho Tagai, a monk who raps sutras in modern Japanese to make them understandable to a modern audience.[3] There is, of course, a place for these approaches, but this embracing of the digital and the novel often extends little beyond the aesthetic – it looks or sounds interesting, but engagement doesn’t extend much deeper than this. Whilst this may generate a cheap buzz and some short term publicity, it is unlikely in my opinion to usher in lasting change. Although these practices likely increase awareness of Buddhism and Shinto, it is unlikely to have much of an effect on individual institutions or the lives of people who visit them – I doubt that the presence of a robot or a rapping priest will influence where most people decide to hold the celebrations of life’s events or offer alms. The location of our wedding, for example, was selected through a range of geographic, familial and ancestral considerations – liturgical method was not particularly important.

Kōdaiji’s robotic Kannon Bodhisattva.

A different possible response to modern circumstances was previously explored in Practical Theology Hub by Taishi Kanto – adaption to changing contextual circumstances and more specifically the shift toward a hybrid style of shrine that allows for the transcending of geographical boundaries and the building of meaningful relationships with the shrine’s visitors and community. I firmly agree with Kato’s approach – it is the ability of a shrine or temple to cater to the needs (religious or secular) of their community that is the key to longevity and continued relevance. Here something can be learnt from British churches – religious spaces can serve as spaces for exhibition, refreshment and play. In doing so, they can aid members of the community with their this-worldly struggles such as needing a place to play and read with the children or needing a drink or something to eat. Religion can come later or not at all. As the reviewer of this article wrote, religious spaces can offer ‘a humanizing experience of sharing and caring without religious boundaries and protocols’ – it is this sort of approach (grounded in cross-religious ideals of hospitality) that, I believe, provides a potential route to create or re-establish connections with a community. Such a model may even be better suited to the practice-based religious systems of Japan.

I don’t mean to suggest that engaging in service to the community without expectations of religious participation would suddenly result in the manifold increase of the life expectancy of shrines and temples, however, in doing so these institutions can create lasting bonds and relevance that will sustain them over time. The answer is hospitality and service.

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References

[1] Suzuka Tominaga, “Robot helps spread Buddhist teachings at a Kyoto temple,” Asahi Shinbun, April 8, 2023, https://www.asahi.com/ajw/articles/14861909.

[2] Norikazu Chiba “Latest AI ‘Buddhabot’ allows users to ‘chat’ with Buddha image about their worries,” Mainichi Shinbun, September 9, 2022, https://mainichi.jp/english/articles/20220908/p2a/00m/0sc/025000c.

[3] Tsem Rinpoche, “Rapping Monk of Japan!” TsemRinpoche.Com, January 31, 2011, https://www.tsemrinpoche.com/tsem-tulku-rinpoche/current-affairs/mc-happiness-in-tokyo.html.

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© James Harry Morris, 2023.

This work is licensed under Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-SA 4.0).

Cover Image: Beatrix Potter Exhibition at St Giles Church, Ludford, Ludlow in 2022. Provided by the author.