The June 17th issue of Jinja Shinpō contained a short article on the closure of a jinja. This was not a full religious corporation, but rather a small jinja enshrining the people from Yasu in Shiga Prefecture who were killed on military service in wars between the Russo-Japanese War (1904–5) and the Great East Asian War (World War II, but including Japan’s war in China, and thus starting several years earlier). It was established in the precincts of Mikami Jinja in 1949, and supported with monthly rituals and an annual grand festival by the local bereaved relatives’ association. However, the members of that association are now few in number and very old; they decided that they could not continue, and had no choice but to dissolve the association.
That meant that the jinja needed to be dealt with, because it could not simply be abandoned. Thus, a “Mitama-agë Matsuri” was held. “Mitama” means “honourable spirits”, and “agë” means “raise up, lift”. Matsuri held at a temporary site, like jichinsai for new buildings, include an element to raise the kami, which means sending them away from the ritual site at the end, but also have an element calling them down, which means inviting them to the site at the beginning. Thus, this was a matsuri to dismiss the kami.
The basic structure of the matsuri was, according the report, broadly conventional. A senior priest from the local Gokoku Jinja (the jinja enshrining the war dead in local areas across the country) led it, assisted by priests from Mikami Jinja. The national anthem was sung, and a period of silence observed for the war dead. (This is not standard for most matsuri, but normal for war dead commemoration.) Then the presiding priest bowed, and opened the doors to the sanctuary. This is normal for a major matsuri. Next, offerings were presented, and a norito offered, which is absolutely standard. After the head of the association had read out a statement of thanks, the presiding priest, the head of the association, and the local mayor all offered tamagushi. Again, this is normal. The bereaved relatives then offered white chrysanthemums, which is not normal for a jinja matsuri, but is a normal way of showing respect to the dead, particularly the war dead. Then, the offerings were removed.
Finally, the presiding priest read a “Mitama-agë” prayer. The list of names of those enshrined and a hanging scroll with the name of the kami were then removed from the sanctuary, and placed in a ceremonial chest, called a “karahitsu”. The list of names will be placed in the main sanctuary of Shiga Prefectural Gogoku Jinja, which already enshrines all these spirits, while the hanging scroll will be placed in a local museum memorialising the war dead.
There is a clear implication here that these items were the goshintai — the sacred objects housing the kami. The “Mitama-agë” prayer meant that they were no longer the vessels of kami, and thus could be moved, and stored in places that were deemed appropriate.
The article does not say what happened to the building, but that is less important — jinja buildings are repaired, demolished, and rebuilt as a matter of course.
It has been very unusual to see articles on this sort of topic, but it may become more common. The decline of rural populations means that it is becoming quite urgent to find dignified ways to close down some jinja.
Given possible likely variables, I expect the answer is yes, but have there been instances of doing a variety of jinja shut down, where the kami get transplanted to somewhere else?
Yes. There were a lot in the early twentieth century, under substantial governmental pressure. It has been less common recently, but it is one of the proposed solutions to the problems of depopulation.
This is sad, but also very beautiful. Thank you for sharing this info, and for giving us a look at something rare but vital in the ‘life-cycle’ of a Jinja. …That along with the choice to venerate, that people honor the responsibility to ensure that the enshrined aren’t simply abandoned.