Zen, Mindfulness, and the Reality of “Funeral Buddhism”: A Sightseeing Trip That Gave Me Too Much to Think About

A Slightly Different Approach to Saving People

Yesterday, I stopped by a Zen temple on a whim.

I was not looking for enlightenment. The temple was famous for its beautiful garden, so I went purely as a tourist.

But as I walked around the grounds and began thinking about Zen, my mind gradually wandered somewhere else.

When you think about it, Zen occupies a rather unusual place within Buddhism.

Religion often brings to mind the idea of saving people. In Japanese Buddhism, the Pure Land traditions offer an especially accessible example. They teach that ordinary people—including those unable to undertake demanding religious practice—can seek rebirth in the Pure Land through faith in Amida Buddha, the Buddha of Infinite Light and Life. It is easy to understand why these teachings gained such broad popular support.

Zen, by contrast, can seem remarkably austere.

At its core, the practitioner sits in zazen, or seated meditation, faces the self directly, and pursues awakening through personal practice.

This does not mean that Zen is concerned only with the individual; Zen schools also have traditions of compassion and helping others. Still, there is no question that personal practice lies at the center.

Historically, Zen also developed strong ties with Japan’s samurai class. For warriors who lived close to death, a teaching centered on steadying the mind and letting go of attachment to life and death must have had a natural appeal.

Zazen itself can be almost frighteningly simple.

Soto Zen, one of Japan’s major Zen schools, emphasizes shikantaza—literally, “just sitting.” Rather than meditating to obtain some extra reward, practitioners simply sit without pursuing an additional goal.

There is no secret spell to memorize.

There is no expensive equipment to buy.

You just sit.

It is so simple that it becomes difficult.

Then It Became “Mindfulness” and Spread Around the World

This is where the modern story gets interesting.

Practices closely related to Zen and other forms of Buddhist meditation have spread around the world as “mindfulness,” often with much of their religious context removed.

Companies include it in employee training. Athletes practice it. Executives practice it. There are even meditation apps for smartphones.

Tell someone, “Visit a Zen temple and seek enlightenment,” and they may hesitate.

Tell the same person, “Try ten minutes of mindfulness a day to reduce stress,” and suddenly it sounds worth a try.

The practices overlap in important ways, yet changing the packaging created an enormous market. Once the religious label was removed, the practice became more global, not less.

That made me wonder how monks who have trained in Zen for years view this development.

Some may think, “That is not Zen.”

Others may feel that any doorway is a good one: if more people sit down and observe their own minds, that can only be positive.

Naturally, different monks will have different views. Still, from a religious perspective, there is a certain irony here:

The less religious it appeared, the more successful it became worldwide.

Temples Have Bills to Pay Too

Yet when you look at Zen temples in Japan, the story becomes even more practical.

No matter how seriously monks pursue enlightenment, temple buildings do not repair themselves. Roofs deteriorate. Gardens need care. Electricity costs money. Monks cannot live on fresh air.

Maintaining a temple requires a financial foundation.

Over its long history, Japanese Buddhism became deeply connected with funerals, memorial services, cemeteries, and the danka system, in which local households support a family temple that in turn conducts funerary and ancestral rites for them.

This model is often described as soshiki Bukkyo, or “funeral Buddhism.” The phrase is frequently used as criticism: Buddhism is supposed to lead people toward awakening, so why have temples become so focused on funerals?

As a matter of religious principle, I can understand that criticism. In practical terms, however, a temple needs an economic base if it is to survive for hundreds of years. Buildings are not restored through spiritual practice alone.

Seen that way, funeral Buddhism cannot simply be dismissed as decadence or decline.

Faith has ideals. Temples have fixed costs.

The Japanese Buddhism we see today may be the result of trying to reconcile those two realities over many centuries.

The Three Faces of Zen

Modern Zen, then, seems to have at least three faces.

• Zen as a religion and discipline, centered on zazen and the pursuit of awakening.
• Zen as a form of Japanese community Buddhism, connected with funerals and memorial services that also help sustain local temples.
• Zen as mindfulness, exported around the world with much of its explicitly religious character removed.

Enlightenment.

Funerals.

Mental well-being.

Three very different things have grown from related roots.

But perhaps it is only natural for a religion with a history of nearly a thousand years in Japan to change as society changes. If it could not adapt, it might have disappeared long ago.

From this perspective, both mindfulness and funeral Buddhism can be seen as different forms that Zen and Buddhism have developed in order to remain part of society.

At the Zen Temple, I Was the Person Furthest from an Empty Mind

I left the temple with all of this running through my head.

I had arrived as a tourist. By the time I departed, I was mentally analyzing the popularization of religion, the rebranding of meditation as mindfulness, and the revenue structure of temple management.

There I was, at a Zen temple, examining the business model of religion.

I had to admit that I was a tourist with an impressive number of worldly attachments.

Zen teaches the importance of not getting caught up in unnecessary thoughts and of simply sitting. The next time I visit, I may try zazen myself.

Then again, if I immediately start wondering, “How much does this meditation session cost per person, and what percentage of the temple’s daily revenue does it represent?” enlightenment will probably remain a very long way off.