Buddhism in Japan
Buddhism reached Japan via the Korean Peninsula in the 6th century and developed there in close interaction with the indigenous Shintō. Today, various Buddhist schools – including Zen, Pure Land (Jōdo) and esoteric Shingon Buddhism – are among the country’s defining religious traditions. Although many people in Japan do not explicitly describe themselves as religious, Buddhist temples and rituals continue to play an important role in social life, for example at funerals, memorial services and religious festivals. At the same time, Japanese Buddhism faces challenges such as demographic change, rural depopulation and the question of what role religion can play in an increasingly secular society.
What sort of project are we talking about today?
Last December, I organised an international conference on environmental ethics from a Christian and Buddhist perspective, which took place over two days, on 17 and 18 December. Among others, I invited three colleagues fromJapan, along with other speakers from various disciplines; in total, there were 13 speakers. The focus was on the question of how religious concepts, values and practices can have a positive or negative impact on issues of environmental ethics. In principle, the conference was open to everyone, but we deliberately chose not to cast the net too wide, as it was primarily intended as an academic conference for the university. A few people from outside the university did attend, however, and the event was also streamed online so that others could listen in. The real distinctive feature of the conference, however, was linguistic: we did not hold it in English, but consistently conducted it bilingually in German and Japanese, with an interpreter at our side. The papers themselves had to be submitted in advance and translated into the other language, so that all texts were ultimately available in both languages; the subsequent discussions were then interpreted consecutively.
What was your personal motivation for organising this conference?
For me, two strands actually came together. One is regional and academic: I have been working on Buddhism in Japan for some time and was keen to organise something in collaboration with Japanese colleagues in particular, whose primary language of publication is Japanese. Through my current involvement in theology, this was complemented by a desire to deliberately focus on a Christian-Buddhist comparison.
The other strand is thematic: I have been working on the subject of environmental ethics for about four, almost five years, and find it fascinating to explore what Buddhist texts, virtues and practices have to say to a world which – like Germany – is not fundamentally shaped by Buddhism. I believe that Buddhism, as a partner in dialogue – particularly when viewed from the outside – can help us to reflect anew on our own relationship to these questions. The idea for this conference then emerged from these two strands.
How did you come into contact with the Japanese researchers you invited?
These were actually contacts from my postdoctoral period. I’d previously been at various universities in Kyoto, including Kyoto University, and then for a slightly longer period at Ryūkoku University, a Buddhist university – there I first had a postdoctoral fellowship for just under two years and then a postdoctoral post for a further two years. I already knew some of these people beforehand; others I met during and after that time, and we’re still in touch today. For me, they were – and still are – particularly important discussion partners when it comes to environmental ethics, and I was delighted that they were willing to make the long journey to Münster for this. Such long-standing connections also exist within the faculty: Prof. Dr Simone Sinn, whose interview on the Indonesia cooperation has already been published in this series, and Prof. Dr Arnulf von Scheliha are both close colleagues of mine and gave presentations at my conference themselves.
Why did you opt for this labour-intensive bilingual format rather than using English as the common language?
Because I believe that a great deal is lost if everything is done solely in English. There are, of course, pragmatic reasons for using English, particularly when you want to invite people from beyond two linguistic regions – but I am convinced that this also makes other discourses possible in the first place. Some colleagues simply would not have taken part in an exclusively English-language format because they do not feel confident enough in English on a particular topic, and as a result, insights would have been missing that they would naturally bring to the table in German or Japanese. There was one effect I hadn’t anticipated at all beforehand: because of the time taken for interpreting, the whole conference slowed down a little. We all suddenly had much more time to reflect on questions and answers; that was a really lovely side effect.
How do the ways of thinking and writing about the same topic actually differ across German, English, and Japanese?
I publish in all three languages, depending on where I feel a particular piece fits best. However, it is not simply a matter of translating an essay from one language to another; each language embodies its own research culture—and this at a very practical level. The assumed background knowledge differs, as do the ways in which arguments are constructed and sources handled. I would structure an essay and build an argument differently in Japanese than I would for the same idea in German—partly because I can draw on different prior knowledge, and partly because I would need to introduce certain theories—which are heavily shaped by Western perspectives—in a different way within the Japanese context. My ideal is to build a bridge between these cultures of knowledge—though, of course, one never knows for certain if one has succeeded.
It also has a very concrete effect in terms of knowledge transfer: in Japan, I once co-hosted an open lecture evening on environmental ethics in Japanese—an event attended by many members of civil society—and I tried out a very similar format in German as well, together with Prof. Dr. Simone Sinn and my student assistant Lara Axtmann, at the Campus Earth Day here in Münster. The fact that maintaining a presence in both languages is important to us is also evident in practical terms: our conference website is available not only in German but also directly in Japanese.
What did the conference program entail in terms of content?
It was a very diverse program. One example was a lecture on Buddhist monastic communities in Europe, which explored how Buddhist values could be applied to our relationship with nature and the concept of care. The speaker illustrated this very vividly using specific interviews. From a Christian perspective, there was a strong focus on the concept of Creation and the resulting responsibility for the world, including biblical references regarding what it means to take responsibility for the created order. Another presentation centered on the concept of "Engaged Buddhism"—a term with a long history of its own—referring to groups that engage in social activism based on religious motivation. It is interesting to note that the question of whether religion has a positive or negative impact on environmental issues is often answered quite unequivocally—particularly by Western actors influenced by Buddhism. The—polemical—argument runs that Christianity, through the concept of humans as the "crown of creation," bears partial responsibility for the exploitation of nature, whereas Buddhism is viewed as a religion of interconnectedness in which humans and nature stand on equal footing. This is a notion that persists to this day, yet the conference did not confirm it; rather, it became apparent that neither religion is, in itself, particularly environmentally friendly or hostile. Buddhism, for instance, lacks a concept of creation from which a responsibility to preserve the world could easily be derived; if one consistently assumes that everything is impermanent, there is initially no obvious reason to strive for the world's preservation. There is even an interpretation suggesting that all living things possess Buddha-nature and the potential for enlightenment—a line of reasoning that, if taken to its logical conclusion, would imply that even a nuclear power plant is capable of enlightenment, illustrating the difficulties involved in deriving concrete courses of action from such concepts. In Christianity, by contrast, drawing upon the idea of stewardship of creation is a comparatively straightforward step. In Buddhism—particularly within the Mahāyāna tradition—one encounters a different line of argument: that one’s own awakening is inextricably linked to the awakening of all other beings, thereby creating a responsibility to leave the world in a state that allows others to practice Buddhism as well. Alternatively, the interconnectedness of all things is emphasized—meaning that by harming the environment, I am ultimately harming myself.
What was a personal highlight or milestone of the conference for you?
First of all, simply the pleasure of seeing how well the conference was received—that more people attended than just those directly involved; that was a truly wonderful moment for me as the organizer. We had scheduled a comparatively large amount of time for discussion, yet it still never felt like enough—something I view as a positive sign in retrospect. Above all, though, it was the atmosphere: the shared breaks, the meals together, and the way everyone really engaged in conversation with one another. I think this was partly because we shared a common theme but came from very different disciplines—theology, religious studies, social sciences, and philosophy. Precisely because we were somewhat unfamiliar with each other’s fields, it was easier to open up to new ideas and ask fundamental questions without feeling self-conscious. The fact that the discussions went so well as a result was probably the best moment of the entire conference for me.
Were there any challenges during the organization process?
It was the first major conference I had organized myself, so a lot of it was new to me. However, I had great support from a student assistant and a research associate, and all the participants were very reliable—for instance, almost all the manuscripts were submitted on time. The lesson I’m taking away for the next conference is actually quite simple: allow for more lead time, schedule more time for discussion, and plan for longer breaks, because that is precisely where the best conversations tend to happen.
What do you see for the future of this exchange?
I am planning a bilingual edited volume featuring the conference papers so that what was discussed there can also be read afterwards. Sometimes, knowledge transfer simply requires a different format than the conference itself. Indeed, a follow-up conference is already being planned for May 2027—again bilingual and spanning three days—this time focusing on the broader theme of sustainability, with the aim of examining as many of the sustainability goals as possible from both Buddhist and Christian perspectives.
What fundamentally drives your research on Japan?
My background is in literary studies, so I work extensively with texts. However, it has become increasingly important to me to ask how religion is actually lived—looking not just at what is discussed in texts, but at what temples actually look like, the rituals performed there, and the role priests play in social life. To this end, I conduct a great deal of fieldwork, though not necessarily in the form of interviews; it is important for me to have visited a location I am writing about at least once in person, so I can get a feel for its spatial layout and structure. For me, environmental ethics represents one facet of this larger question: how religious texts and concepts are translated into lived practice, and what that means for life within the society in question.
My sincere thanks to Junior Professor Rüsch for this wonderful conversation!
Jun.-Prof. Markus Rüsch is a junior professor of Religious Studies and a Japanologist. His research focuses on the aesthetics and philology of religion, Buddhist hagiography, and religious ethics—particularly environmental ethics—with a focus on Japanese Buddhism. Contact
