Sessō Sōsai and the Chinese Anti-Christian Discourse

Abstract

The early Tokugawa period witnessed the establishment of anti-Christian policy as a significant agenda. In 1647, Sessō Sōsai, a Zen monk, undertook the task of delivering sermons in Nagasaki, aiming to convert the local population to Buddhism. Following his preaching, Sessō authored two anti-Christian texts, with the second text reflecting a pronounced influence from Chinese Buddhist anti-Christian discourse. This article seeks to explore the correlation between Sessō’s anti-Christian writings and his engagement with the Chinese Buddhist community in Nagasaki. By delving into the analysis of personal networks, this study illustrates Sessō’s familiarity with the evolution of Buddhism in China and his incorporation of ideas from the Chinese Buddhist anti-Christian movement during his time.

1. Introduction

The early Tokugawa period (1603–1867) witnessed a significant shift in the Tokugawa shogunate’s attitude towards Catholic missionaries. Initially, Tokugawa Ieyasu 徳川家康 (1543–1616) displayed generosity by offering substantial financial aid to the Jesuit Society upon learning that a Portuguese ship had been seized by the Dutch in 1603 (Rodrigues 2003, p. 112).1 However, a mere 10 years later, in 1613, Ieyasu abruptly issued an edict known as the Bateren tsuihō no fumi 伴天連追放之文, which resulted in the expulsion of the missionaries and the subsequent underground nature of missionary activities. Despite the forced departure of the majority of missionaries from Japan, the Christian communities remained sizeable, comprising hidden Christians known as kakure kirishitan 隠れキリシタン. Alongside the ban on Christianity, the shogunate introduced the danka system 檀家制度, which assigned the responsibility of verifying the orthodoxy of parishioners to Buddhist temples. Individuals were required to officially register as Buddhist believers within the temple. In 1637, a notable uprising known as the Shimabara Rebellion 島原の乱 occurred in the Shimabara Peninsula and Amakusa. This rebellion stands as the most significant civil unrest during the entire Tokugawa period, resulting in the estimated death of over 20,000 rebels (Nakamura 1988, p. 165; Gonoi 1990, p. 223),2 many of whom were hidden Christians.

The Shimabara Rebellion had a profound impact on the Tokugawa shogunate’s control over religious affairs, particularly in the Kyushu region. In 1640, the shogunate implemented the shūmon’aratame system 宗門改制度, with Inoue Masashige 井上政重 (1585–1661) assuming the role of Head Investigator 宗門改役 (Ohashi 2019, pp. 46–54). This system aimed to identify and convert hidden Christians throughout the archipelago into officially recognized religions. Despite the shogunate’s anti-Christian policies, Christianity and Portuguese influence persisted. In 1642 and 1643, the Jesuits made two unsuccessful attempts to send missionaries (known as the Rubino groups) to Japan, in an effort to support the mission and establish contact with Christovão Ferreira (1580–1650), an apostate Jesuit Vice-Provincial of Japan who was captured by the authorities in 1633 and subjected to torture before being coerced into converting to Buddhism (Cieslik 1974). In July 1647, a Portuguese embassy arrived in Nagasaki, seeking to reopen diplomatic relations, but it was promptly ordered to leave. These European endeavors only further solidified the shogunate’s belief that Japan remained vulnerable to Catholic infiltration.

In such circumstances, under the directive of the shogunate, the monk Sessō Sōsai 雪窓宗崔 (1589–1649) proceeded to Kōfukuji 興福寺 in Nagasaki. This temple, constructed by Chinese residents in Nagasaki, served as the location where Sessō delivered sermons to the public shortly before the arrival of the Portuguese embassy in June 1647 (Okuwa 1984, p. 306).3 Subsequently, Sessō compiled a written account known as Kōfukuji hikki 興福寺筆記, summarizing the key points from his sermons in Nagasaki. The following year, Sessō departed Nagasaki and returned to Tafukuji 多福寺 in Usuki 臼杵, where he held the position of abbot. During his time at Tafukuji, Sessō authored another anti-Christian work titled Taiji jashū ron対治邪執論. It is likely that Sessō acquired a deeper understanding of Christianity subsequent to his preaching, as Taiji jashū ron presents a more comprehensive critique of the religion rather than a mere reproduction of his earlier sermons.

While several scholars have asserted that the predominant essence of the suppression directed against Christianity during the early Tokugawa period was primarily socio-political rather than rooted in philosophical or religious motivations (Paramore 2009; Hur 2007; Ōhashi 1996), the involvement of individuals aiding the shogunate in executing anti-Christian persecution was not confined solely to socio-political rationales. Indeed, Sessō’s compositions opposing Christianity, particularly his later opuses, stand as notable instances of integrating intricate philosophical and religious condemnations of Christian doctrines into the discourse of early Tokugawa’s anti-Christian campaign. Possibly stemming from the emphasis placed on the socio-political dimension of the early Tokugawa anti-Christian suppression, analyses pertaining to Sessō’s religious scrutiny of Christianity in English academic discourse are primarily contained within Ikuo Higashibaba’s exploration of Christianity and Jan C. Leuchtenberger’s investigation of Kirishitan literature during the Early Modern Japan era (Higashibaba 2001; Leuchtenberger 2013).4 However, a dialogue concerning his philosophical concepts remains absent in the realm of the English literature. The objective of this article is to undertake an analysis of Sessō’s Taiji jashū ron while exploring the Chinese origins of several pivotal philosophical critiques articulated therein.

The study of Taiji jashū ron and Sessō in general commenced several decades ago. However, our understanding of Sessō remained severely limited until the mid-1980s due to a dearth of primary sources. Fortunately, the groundbreaking efforts of Okuwa Hitoshi (1937–2020) and his colleagues shed new light on the subject. They transcribed a collection of documents preserved in Tafukuji pertaining to Christianity, enabling us to analyze Sessō’s anti-Christian writings using these newfound materials.5 Furthermore, it is worth noting that Okuwa has already identified numerous connections between Sessō and Chinese monks in Nagasaki within his research. Regrettably, he overlooked certain sections in which Sessō directly drew upon Chinese anti-Christian texts, consequently neglecting an examination of the transmission of Chinese anti-Christian literature from China to Nagasaki.

More recently, Nishimura Ryo (1972–2016) conducted research on Sessō’s critique of Christianity, drawing heavily on Okuwa’s work. In her study, she highlighted an overlooked yet significant connection between Sessō and Chinese Buddhist monks, particularly the Zen monk Feiyin Tongrong 費隱通容 (1593–1661), whose anti-Christian text, Yuandao pixie shuo 原道闢邪說 (1636), was directly quoted in Taiji jashū ron (Nishimura 2011).

Additionally, building upon Okuwa’s research, Martin Nogueira Ramos recently undertook an analysis of Sessō’s writings from a political standpoint, focusing on the Tokugawa anti-Christian policy and the ramifications of the Shimabara Rebellion (Nogueira Ramos 2020). His essay also provides insights into the content of the three documents preserved in Tafukuji.

Nishimura’s and Nogueira Ramos’s research endeavors offer valuable insights into the implications of Sessō’s anti-Christian writings. However, neither author has thoroughly examined the connection between Feiyin and Sessō in terms of their anti-Christian ideologies. While Nogueira Ramos briefly acknowledges Nishimura’s work, his focus on the political aspects prevents him from delving into Feiyin Tongrong’s philosophical ideas. On the other hand, Nishimura identifies and analyzes Sessō’s quotation from Feiyin within a Buddhist anti-Christian framework. She suggests that Sessō borrowed the concept of the Great Way of the Void 虚空の大道 from Feiyin as a metaphysical and ontological reality.

If we rely solely on Sessō’s quotation, it may lead us to believe that Sessō and Feiyin both understood the Great Way of the Void as synonymous with the Buddhist concept of emptiness 空. However, a meticulous examination of Feiyin’s original text reveals that his argument is rooted in a syncretic fusion of Buddhism and Confucianism. Interestingly, Sessō intentionally omits all the Confucian elements in his extensive quotation of Feiyin’s text. This revision of the original text, which was not addressed by Nishimura, warrants deeper investigation. Thus suggests that Sessō’s engagement with Feiyin’s arguments was not a passive acceptance, nor did he solely rely on Feiyin’s textual content, as Nishimura’s analysis might inadvertently imply. Furthermore, this revision highlights the necessity of harmonizing a Chinese text with the socio-political and intellectual milieu of early Tokugawa Japan in some cases.

In addition to the absence of a thorough comparison between Feiyin’s original text and Sessō’s quotation, the originality of Feiyin’s work has been inadvertently disregarded by Nishimura. Through a meticulous examination of Biantian shuo 辯天說 (1635) (Zhong and Xu 1984), authored by Feiyin’s master Miyun Yuanwu 密雲圓悟 (1567–1642), it becomes evident that the anti-Christian argument quoted by Sessō bears striking resemblance to the discourse presented in Biantian shuo, which was published one year prior to Feiyin’s Yuandao pixie shuo that Sessō drew upon. Nishimura acknowledges this similarity in her article discussing the development of Chinese Buddhist anti-Christian discourses during the Late Ming period. However, she does not explore this aspect in her article specifically addressing Sessō’s incorporation of Feiyin’s ideas (Nishimura 2010). Therefore, it is imperative to consider that Sessō’s utilization of Feiyin’s concepts should not be hastily interpreted as mere individual quotation, but rather necessitates evaluation from a collective standpoint.

In summary, while Nishimura has presented compelling evidence that underscores Sessō’s substantial reliance on Chinese sources within his anti-Christian compositions, there remains a certain ambiguity concerning the specific modifications he applied to the quoted texts. Moreover, the precise nature of Sessō’s interactions with the Chinese Buddhist community, which culminated in his utilization of Chinese textual material, continues to elude comprehensive understanding.

This essay endeavors to undertake a re-evaluation of the impact exerted by Chinese monks’ anti-Christian writings on Sessō’s texts, focusing particularly on Sessō’s discerning adoption of Feiyin’s anti-Christian ideology, while also extending the examination to include Miyun’s anti-Christian writing. The intention is to showcase that, beyond the three Tafukuji documents, Chinese sources significantly influenced Sessō’s anti-Christian discourse especially in the philosophical arguments. By conducting an interpersonal analysis of the Buddhist communities in China and Japan, the objective is to elucidate the intricate network of individuals that facilitated the transmission of anti-Christian discourses from China to Japan, specifically among Zen monks. Moreover, it seeks to introduce an alternative angle to the examination of the early Tokugawa anti-Christian persecution. This perspective entails situating the anti-Christian initiatives undertaken by figures such as Sessō within the framework of their personal aspirations. The objective is to explore how these individuals could leverage their fervent ambitions to effectively fulfill their official duties, thereby accomplishing their obligations while simultaneously benefiting from their deep-seated passions.

2. A Brief Biography of Sessō

Sessō Sosai was born in Bungo 豊後 in 1589.6 He developed a profound interest in Buddhism at a young age and subsequently entered the Shinshōji temple 真正寺 of the Pure Land sect in 1599. Following his studies at Shinshōji and Zenshōji temple 善正寺, Sessō grew dissatisfied with the practice of nenbutsu 念仏7 and sought to delve into the realm of Zen philosophy. At the age of 25, Sessō joined Tafukuji, an esteemed temple affiliated with the Myōshinji branch 妙心寺派 of Rinzai Zen 臨済, eventually rising to the position of abbot.

In 1616, at the age of 28, Sessō journeyed to Edo, where he forged affiliations with several prominent monks of his era. Noteworthy among these individuals were Gudō Toshoku 愚堂東寔 (1577–1661), Daigu Sōchiku 大愚宗築 (1584–1669), Ungo Kiyō 雲居希膺 (1582–1659), and Ryōdō Sōketsu 了堂宗歇 (1587–1664), all of whom were affiliated with the Myōshinji branch. Additionally, he established connections with Suzuki Shōsan 鈴木正三 (1579–1655) and Bannan Eishu 万安英種 (1591–1654), notable figures within the Sōtō sect. Sessō joined forces with these monks in their collective endeavor to reinvigorate Zen Buddhism in Japan. Notably, Suzuki Shōsan 鈴木正三 (1579–1655), a key member of this progressive cohort, authored an influential anti-Christian treatise titled Ha Kirishitan 破切支丹 in 1642, as a direct response to the Shimabara Rebellion (Okuwa 1984, p. 292).

Not only did Sessō befriend numerous influential monks of his era, but he also progressively gained renown among the daimyo in Edo. Among these dignitaries, Inaba Kazumichi 稲葉一通 (1587–1641), the daimyo of the Usuki domain, encountered Sessō at Tōzenji 東禅寺 in Edo and subsequently assumed the role of Sessō’s disciple. Kazumichi was captivated by Sessō’s exceptional talents, prompting him to extend an invitation for Sessō to undertake the reconstruction of Tafukuji in Usuki.8

As Sessō’s reputation continued to swell, he embarked on a journey to Kyoto in 1633, ascending to the esteemed position of the First Seat of Myōshinji, a position of considerable significance within the Myōshinji branch. Sessō’s dynamic presence in Kyoto ultimately facilitated a remarkable opportunity to elucidate Zen kōan to Emperor Go-Mizunoo 後水尾天皇 (1596–1680) in the year 1639. This auspicious encounter culminated in the conferral of the venerable purple robe 紫衣 upon Sessō, emblematic of his exceptional spiritual attainments. This honor was bestowed just a year prior to Sessō’s delivery of his anti-Christian sermons in Nagasaki.

Based on Okuwa’s conjecture, it is suggested that Sessō encountered Suzuki Shōsan in Edo in 1647. Through Shōsan’s endorsement, Sessō was dispatched to Nagasaki by Hoshina Masayuki 保科正之 (1611–1673), an intimate associate of Shōsan and a prominent figure within the shogunate’s upper echelons (Okuwa 1984, pp. 304–5). The precise rationale behind Sessō’s designation to deliver anti-Christian sermons remains unrecorded. Nonetheless, it is plausible to surmise that due to his proximity to Suzuki Shōsan, who had previously undertaken endeavors against Christianity in the Kyushu region a few years earlier, Sessō likely harbored a shared aspiration with Shōsan to rejuvenate Buddhism within a region influenced by Christianity. This mutual objective seemingly positioned Sessō as a suitable candidate for this undertaking.

Owing to the scarcity of resources, there remains ambiguity regarding whether Sessō possessed any prior knowledge of Christianity or engaged in anti-Christian endeavors prior to his sermons in Nagasaki. However, as confirmed by the biographical record of the first three abbots of Tafukuji, the Tafukuji gyōyū 多福寺行由, it is clear that he was dispatched by a prominent shogunate official 宰官 (Okuwa 1984, p. 20). Sessō arrived in Nagasaki during the summer of 1647 and proceeded to deliver four sermons to the local population within a span of twenty-one days. According to the account in Kōfukuji hikki, a total of 22,820 individuals received the Buddhist Five Precepts 五戒 following the completion of Sessō’s sermons. However, Kengan Zenetsu 賢巌禅悦 (1618–1699), in his two biographies of Sessō, reported a slightly lower figure of around 18,000. This notable achievement was hailed as a significant success by Inoue Masashige, who arrived in Nagasaki shortly after the conclusion of the sermons and relayed the news to the shogun Tokugawa Iemitsu 徳川家光 (1604–1651).

After the preaching, Sessō remained in Nagasaki for a period of time and completed his work on Kōfukuji hikki. The following year, he returned to Tafukuji and composed Taiji jashū ron, only to pass away in the subsequent year.

3. The Structure of Taiji jashū ron

Taiji jashū ron is not a straightforward anti-Christian text, as it encompasses a thorough and multifaceted critique of Christianity. The text can be dissected into three distinct parts, each containing an exposition of Kirishitan teachings and Sessō’s accompanying commentary on them.

The first part of the discussion pertains to the historical progression of Christianity in Japan and its resemblance to Buddhist sects such as Pure Land and Nichiren. According to Sessō, the initial cohort of European padres (頗姪連)9 to set foot on the shores of Bungo consisted of Saint Francis Xavier (三跗乱志須古娑毘恵婁, 1506–1552) and 我須頗婁 (likely Gaspar Vilela, 1526–1572, who arrived in Bungo in 1556) during the final year of Tenbun 天文 (Jan 1555–Jan 1556) from Rome (浪魔).10 The missionaries employed a strategy aimed at enticing individuals to attend their private catechism sessions for a duration of seven days (堅鎖門戸而不令他人聞法理，潜説法要者一七箇日). Sessō posited that Jesus (是寸須), the figure revered by the missionaries, might have embraced Buddhism (帰依釈氏), but only acquired a superficial understanding of its concepts and rituals (而学名相). Having grasped merely the surface of Buddhist teachings, Jesus amalgamated elements of the doctrines propagated by the Six Heretical Teachers (rokushi gedō 六師外道) with Buddhist terminology and rituals, resulting in the formulation of a novel heretical doctrine (作外道邪見).

In the second part, Sessō delves into the teachings imparted to newly converted Kirishitan on their first day. The discussion commences with a Christian critique of Buddhism, asserting its inherent emptiness and voidness. Specifically, three Buddhist sects—Nichiren, Pure Land, and Zen—are singled out, alongside Shinto. The Jesuits contend that adherents of Nichiren and Pure Land, rather than placing their faith in the Christian God, blindly bestow their devotion upon Buddha Shakyamuni and Amida, respectively, whom the Jesuits perceive as mere mortals. Regarding Zen, the missionaries perceive it as fundamentally devoid of substance. Lastly, Shinto becomes the target of criticism. The missionaries view the kami 神 worshipped by the Japanese as the spirits of deceased humans or animals (祀其霊以為神). They deride the notion that human and animal spirits can exert influence on the physical world and denounce it as heretical.

In response to the aforementioned catechism on the first day, Sessō persistently maintains that Jesus failed to comprehend the truth of Buddhism but instead sought a Creator beyond this worldly realm. Drawing from a Buddhist metaphysical standpoint, he refutes this idea and proposes that the three realms of existence are purely manifestations of the mind, and the myriad phenomena are but manifestations of consciousness (三界唯心，万法唯識). Furthermore, he cites an ancient sage (古德) who proclaimed, “Heaven and Earth share the same root, and all things are interconnected as one entity (天地同根, 万物一体).” Sessō, in accordance with Buddhist cosmology, regards all phenomena as fundamentally united within a singular generative entity. This quotation can also be found in Feiyin’s Yuandao pixie shuo, where the exact phrase (天地同根, 万物一体) is employed to challenge the Christian notion that seeks to establish an external Lord of Heaven, divorced from the realm of the mind (亦背一心之道 … 妄執有一天主)11.

Proceeding to the third part, we encounter a notable presence of direct Chinese influence. Sessō initiates this segment by providing a synopsis of the Genesis narrative, encompassing God’s creation of the world up until the moment of Adam and Eve’s fall. Subsequently, an elucidation of the concept of Original Sin and the redemptive significance of Jesus’ Passion in the salvation of humanity ensues. Additionally, the manner in which baptism was administered and the steadfastness displayed by individuals in their adherence to their faith through martyrdom are expounded upon. In his commentary on these matters, Sessō initially raises a moral paradox:

Deus … creates Heaven and Hell, sorrowness and happiness, and make people suffer [from pain and sorrowness]. How could this be described as the source of wisdom and compassion? You said, the Lord of Heaven (天主) would cancel one’s sin and elevate that person to Heaven however great the sin is as long as that person possesses the faith. For those who do not possess faith, even if they are sages or saints, they fell into inferno. Can this be the source of the Law (憲法)? The vast world (大千世界) includes countless range of territory, only people living in the western part have faith in Deus, the rest of the people in other countries have not heard Deus before, how can they put faith in Deus? However, these people being the creations of Deus are not given a chance to hear from Him. Does this deserve the title of the lord of all virtues?

(Okuwa 1984, p. 101)

This moral quandary finds its origins in the writings of various anti-Christian authors during the early seventeenth century. In Japan, Christovão Ferreira, a former Portuguese Jesuit priest who adopted the name Sawano Chūan 沢野忠庵 (1580–1650) following his apostasy in 1633, presented a similar critique in his anti-Christian treatises Gengi roku 顕偽録 (1636). George Elison, in his examination of anti-Christian treatises from the early Tokugawa period, suggests a strong likelihood of Sessō drawing heavily from Sawano’s work, perhaps even engaging in direct discourse with him (Elison 1973, pp. 231–32). Elison’s conjecture is reasonable and plausible, given that Sawano was stationed in Nagasaki, serving as an interpreter and assistant for the shogunate’s anti-Christian inquisition (Cieslik 1974, pp. 26–30). However, there exists another potential source of anti-Christian discourse that Sessō could have drawn upon—Chinese anti-Christian texts. Indeed, numerous Chinese authors in the 1630s and 1640s employed similar lines of reasoning. For instance, Shi Ruchun 釋如純 (date unknown), in his work Tianxue chupi 天學初闢12, questioned the omnipotence and omniscience of God, as well as the existence of evil, in relation to the fall of Adam and Eve and humanity’s Original Sin. Similarly, the esteemed monk Ouyi Zhixu 蕅益智旭 (1599–1655) expressed similar sentiments in his Pixieji 闢邪集13 (preface dating to 1643). After engaging in this moral discussion, Sessō proceeds to provide an extensive quotation from Feiyin.

4. The Long Quotation

We shall now direct our focus towards Sessō’s citation of Feiyin Tongrong’s Yuandao pixie shuo within the pages of Taiji jashū ron. The complete passage, along with its translation, can be found in Appendix A. It is worth noting that, while Sessō only made minor modifications to the original text in his citation, it is intriguing to observe that he occasionally omitted certain portions of sentences and reorganized the order of Feiyin’s words. In light of Sessō’s alterations, I have divided his text into 10 distinct blocks, each corresponding to a particular section of Feiyin’s original composition.

When comparing Sessō’s text to Feiyin’s, several noteworthy points arise for discussion. Firstly, in Sessō’s discourse, his presumed opponent in the debate is Christ (喜利志徒), whereas, in Feiyin’s text, the focal point of contention is Matteo Ricci 利瑪竇 (1552–1610) (Higashibaba 2001, pp. 85–86). Consequently, it becomes imperative to examine Sessō’s comprehension of Ricci and the texts authored by Ricci, particularly Tianzhu shiyi 天主實義, which evidently constitutes the target of Feiyin’s refutation in his treatise.

Ricci’s Tianzhu shiyi gained popularity among the Jesuits in Japan shortly after its publication in 1603. The Jesuit Visitor Alessandro Valignano (1539–1606) even commissioned a reprint of Tianzhu shiyi in Guangdong 広東 explicitly for the purpose of exporting copies to Japan to meet the demand in 1605 (Ricci 2018, p. 316). Additionally, Japanese scholars outside the Jesuit Society were also familiar with Tianzhu shiyi. Hayashi Razan 林羅山 (1583–1657), for example, noted in a record of his debate with Fucan Fabian 不干斎巴鼻庵 (1565–1621) in 1606 that he had read Tianzhu shiyi and found it to be absurd.14 Despite the shogunate’s issuance of the ban on Christian books 禁書令in 1630 and the establishment of a system to scrutinize the content of imported Chinese books to ensure they were not related to Christianity (Ito 1936a, 1936b), Ricci’s works continued to circulate clandestinely in Japan. It is plausible that Sessō, as an anti-Christian preacher dispatched by the government, could have obtained access to Ricci’s books with the assistance of the authorities.

In Kōfukuji hikki, there is no indication that Sessō had already read Tianzhu shiyi during the time he delivered his sermons in Nagasaki. Therefore, if he did come across Tianzhu shiyi, it would have likely been after his sermons, and there are two main potential sources for this: the Chinese monks in Nagasaki or Inoue Masashige, who arrived in Nagasaki shortly after Sessō concluded his sermons. Regarding the first possibility, Sessō did interact with the Chinese Buddhist community in Nagasaki, and we delve into his connection with them later. As for the latter possibility, Tanihata Akio has conducted an extensive examination of the available source materials accessible to Sessō (Okuwa 1984, pp. 410–11). He suggests that Sessō’s understanding of Christian doctrine in Kōfukuji hikki was surprisingly rudimentary compared to that in Taiji jashū ron. This is attributed to the fact that Sessō was hastily dispatched by the shogunate to deliver sermons in Nagasaki, leaving him with limited time to thoroughly study the Christian doctrine before completing his mission. Hence, Inoue, in his capacity as the Head Inspector, with easy access to various Christian-related materials, including Chinese catechisms, likely provided additional resources to Sessō. However, despite an improvement in his understanding of Christian doctrine evident in Taiji jashū ron, similar to Kōfukuji hikki, no definitive textual evidence can be found to suggest that Sessō had read Tianzhu shiyi or any of Ricci’s works. In the absence of new evidence, it is prudent to propose that Sessō may have heard of Ricci’s name but had not personally read the latter’s texts.

Hence, proceeding from the assumption that Sessō had not read Tianzhu shiyi, the question remains: how did Sessō perceive Matteo Ricci in Yuandao pixie shuo? Given that Sessō replaced Ricci with Christ, let us first examine Sessō’s perception of Christ. In Sessō’s view, Christ was regarded as a heretical Buddhist teacher who failed to grasp the authentic Buddhist doctrine, but merely acquired superficial knowledge of its names and forms. Sessō consistently accused Christ of fabricating conceptual notions, disregarding true teachings, and introducing heretical ideas into the Buddhist doctrine. According to Sessō, Christ blended elements of Buddhist teachings with the Six Heretical teachings, resulting in the formation of the Christian doctrine. This represents a departure from Feiyin’s understanding of the development of Christian doctrine. In Tianzhu shiyi, there is no explicit mention of Jesus Christ as the creator of Christian doctrine. Instead, Ricci establishes the existence of God and expounds upon Christian doctrines from a scholastic philosophical perspective. Naturally, Feiyin targeted Ricci for refutation because Jesus is only briefly mentioned at the end of Tianzhu shiyi as a savior, rather than a teacher. Since Ricci’s teachings closely align with Sessō’s understanding of Christ’s teachings, Feiyin’s refutation of Ricci can effectively serve as a means to refute Christ’s teachings in Taiji jashū ron. Furthermore, and perhaps of greater significance, there was no compelling reason for Sessō to complicate the narrative by introducing another figure—Ricci—who had minimal relevance to the Kirishitan issue in 1640s Japan. The 1630 prohibition on Chinese Christian books explicitly identifies “32 books composed by the European Matteo Ricci and his colleagues”15 as containing heretical teachings that should be banned. Consequently, the name Matteo Ricci had already become a sensitive matter after 1630, and referencing him could potentially give rise to unnecessary complications. Hence, Sessō’s decision to omit any mention of Ricci appears to be a reasoned choice.

Sessō not only altered the name, but also rearranged Feiyin’s original text. I have labelled the 10 sections as (1) to (10), and, if they were listed according to Feiyin’s text, the order would be (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (7), (8), (6), (10), (9). The initial five sections of the quotation align with the original text, but omit four sections of text between the quotes.16 When comparing them to Yuandao pixie shuo, sections (1) and (2) in Feiyin’s original text serve as an introduction. Feiyin commences his argument by asserting that the origin of creation, which is without beginning or end, is not God but rather the Great Way (大道) that is inherent in every human being. Concerning the metaphysical essence of the Great Way, Feiyin states:

Unbeknownst to you, this beginninglessness and endlessness is indeed the origin of the Great Way, and also the purpose of the ultimate truth. Moreover, this ultimate truth is within everyone, and the origin of the Great Way is not absent in anyone. It does not increase in the saints, nor decrease in the ordinary people. It exists in the sky as the sky, in humans as humans. As for all things, so it is, and for all phenomenon, it is also the same. Thus, there is no duality, no division, no distinction.17

Hence, if all things and phenomena inherit the Great Way and the ultimate truth, which are without a beginning or end, it becomes unnecessary and even ontologically illogical to posit the existence of a God who creates beings such as humans and other entities that manifest clear beginnings.

This is precisely the point of contention that both Feiyin and Sessō identify in the Christian doctrine. In the preceding sections of Taiji jashū ron, Sessō has already contended that Jesus succumbed to heretical teachings due to his limited grasp of Buddhism, having merely acquired superficial knowledge of its terminology and rituals without comprehending its underlying truths. Sessō’s criticisms of Christianity primarily revolve around how Kirishitan practices imitate or modify Buddhist customs and concepts. These reproaches predominantly target the practical aspects of the religion. However, in Sessō’s quotation of Feiyin’s work, he expounds upon the more fundamental philosophical reason that gave rise to Jesus’s heretical perspective, employing Feiyin’s words as a means of elucidation:

Christ do not understand this concept [the Great Way] and uses his mind and consciousness to explore and estimate everything within heaven and earth. When he reaches the vast and mysterious depths, he cannot quite grasp it. Therefore, he arbitrarily assumes the existence of a God, an entity with no beginning and no end, capable of giving birth to heaven and earth, and fostering all beings. Further, [he teaches that] all these beings indeed have a beginning and an end, such as birds, animals, plants, and trees. And there are entities that have a beginning but no end, such as the earth, heaven, ghosts, gods, and human souls. Only God has no beginning and no end, capable of creating everything.

In this instance, Sessō explicitly highlights the error committed by Jesus: the invention of God as the sole creative force in place of the Great Way. Jesus made this mistake due to his inability to grasp the true concept of the Great Way. Nishimura argues that the notion of the Great Way, which Sessō draws upon, serves as the underlying metaphysical foundation as his cosmological and metaphysical basis (Nishimura 2011, p. 89). However, this argument regarding Jesus’s lack of understanding regarding the Great Way can be further traced back to Feiyin’s teacher, Miyun, and his work Biantian shuo:

You, being unable to grasp the essence of the Great Way, merely pursue names and forms (但逐名相). Therefore, you cling to Tianzhu 天主 as the Lord of Heaven, Buddha as Buddha, and sentient beings as sentient beings. And you do not understand the Buddha are those who attain awakening, and those who attain awakening are those who realize. If every person awakens and realizes, then every person is a Buddha. So why make distinctions between the heaven, human, and other living beings? Therefore, the Buddha has no fixed form. In sky, it manifests as sky; in a human, it manifests as a human. It cannot be perceived through appearance or sought through sound. It is because it is inherent in everyone complete and fulfilled.

(Zhong and Xu 1984, pp. 11518–19)

Further, in part (1), Feiyin concluded the following:

The origin of the Great Way is clearly visible, without that or this. The body of the ultimate truth is beginningless and endless, the Way is equal, and hence a great harmony is formed (一道平等而浩然大均矣).

A similar argument also appears in Miyun’s text:

Therefore, our great sage teaches that all sentient beings possess the wisdom and virtues of a Tathagata. It is the personal realization of the Great Path of Unity (大通之道). Through personally realizing the Great Path of Unity, one does not perceive the distinctions of superiority or inferiority between oneself and others. Thus, the Way is equal, and hence a great harmony is formed (一道平等，浩然大均矣).

(Zhong and Xu 1984, p. 11521)

Miyun completed his Biantian shuo a year prior to Feiyin’s Yuandao pixie shuo in 1635, indicating that Feiyin likely engaged in discussions with Miyun regarding the errors in Christian doctrines and further expanded upon the notion of the Great Way in his treatise. It is evident that Miyun’s arguments bear a striking resemblance to those presented by Feiyin and Sessō. The Great Path of Unity discussed in Miyun’s text corresponds to the concept of the Great Way found in Feiyin’s work. Both concepts are rooted in Buddhism and emphasize the all-encompassing nature of the Buddha-nature as the singular origin of the diverse phenomena. Thus far, it appears that Sessō drew upon Miyun’s and Feiyin’s Buddhist metaphysics and cosmology as a counterpoint to the Christian doctrine of Creation. However, upon examining the omitted sections between parts (3) and (4), we discover that the Chinese masters’ conceptualization of the Great Way differed significantly from Sessō’s emphasis.

In Feiyin’s original text, parts (1) and (2) serve as an introduction, while parts (3) and (4) present the central arguments to substantiate the claim that the Great Way, which has no beginning or end, pervades all things. The omitted sections indicate that Feiyin emphasizes two distinct approaches to support this assertion, whereas Sessō combines them into a single argument. Additionally, between sections (3) and (4), Sessō omits a crucial part of Feiyin’s text that references the Confucian classics:

Again, “What does Heaven say? It moves with the four seasons, giving birth to all things.” Thus, Heaven does not possess a conscious mind for discrimination, enabling it to follow the four seasons and give birth to all things. It harmonizes with the four seasons and all things without any deficiencies or contradictions. Furthermore, “The virtues of ghosts and gods are truly magnificent! They cannot be seen when looked at, nor heard when listened to, yet they encompass all things.” Since ghosts and gods cannot be perceived through sight or hearing, yet they can encompass all things, it can be said that ghosts and gods also lack a conscious mind for discrimination, and their virtues are indeed magnificent. Moreover, Confucius extols the virtues of ghosts and gods to such a degree, but Matto claims they have beginning but no end, can it be considered appropriate?18

It becomes evident that Feiyin utilizes references to the Confucian classics as evidence to support his argument. When he states, “Therefore, the sutra says, ‘All phenomena do not arise by themselves, nor are they born of others. They are neither conjoint nor without cause. Therefore, it is said they are unborn,’” the teaching of the sutra corresponds to Confucian philosophy. This indicates an unmistakable effort to synthesize Confucianism and Buddhism within Feiyin’s text (Wu 2018).19 In the case of Sessō, however, he omits the entirety of the Confucian references, thus creating the impression that the sutra is quoted solely to demonstrate that all phenomena are without a beginning or end and can be confirmed through human testimony from a Buddhist standpoint.

In addition to the Confucian part before part (4), Feiyin in the original text also referred to other important Confucian philosophers’ teachings. Before Sessō’s part (5), we find this inclusion:

Mencius said, “All things are within me.” Zisi said, “Achieving harmony, Heaven and Earth find their places, and all things are nurtured.” Chengzi said “When expanded, it fills the universe; when contracted, it retreats and conceals within secrecy.” The sutra also states, “When the mind arises, various phenomena arise; when the mind ceases, various phenomena cease.”20

It is important to note that, in the original text, parts (4) and (5) are not connected. In parts (3) and (4), Feiyin’s original text explores two different approaches to demonstrate the presence of the beginningless and endless Great Way within all things. In part (5), the original text delves into the concept of “All dharmas converge into mind (萬法會歸唯心)”, a topic that Sessō had already addressed in a previous section of his treatise.21 Once again, prior to expounding his argument in Buddhist terminology, Feiyin chose to reference Confucian classics in order to bolster his position and promote the syncretism of Confucianism and Buddhism. In Sessō’s text, not only is the Confucian component omitted, but the Buddhist quotation from the sutra of the Awakening of Faith in the Mahayana 大乘起信論, which Feiyin employed to align with the Confucian classics, is also omitted.

Why did Sessō choose to omit the Confucian sections in Feiyin’s text? Nogueira Ramos, in his study of Sessō, suggests that Taiji jiashū ron was primarily intended as a guidebook for a small circle of monks close to Sessō. He hypothesizes that the kanbun 漢文 text may have only been comprehensible to well-educated individuals of the time (Nogueira Ramos 2020, pp. 64, 76). This readership consideration could be one of the reasons for Sessō’s omission of the Confucian portions. It is possible that his fellow monks were unfamiliar with the Confucian classics, rendering it pointless or even confusing to include those parts in the original text. Additionally, during the early Tokugawa period, Neo-Confucianism emerged as a prominent political ideology in Japan, and many Confucian scholars of Sessō’s time were known for their anti-Buddhist and pro-Shinto stance (Endo 2003; Kyo 1998). For example, the domains of Mito, Okayama, and Aizu all experienced anti-Buddhist movements under an ideology of Confucian-Shinto syncretism in the 1660s that saw the demolishment of many Buddhist temples. The populace in Aizu and Okayama were even ordered to register themselves with Shinto shrines instead of Buddhist temples (Ooms 1985, pp. 192–93). This could serve as another reason, assuming that Sessō intentionally omitted the Confucian sections to avoid potential criticism from Confucian scholars. Lastly, there is also the possibility that Sessō only had access to an abbreviated version of Yuandao pixie shuo that had already excluded the Confucian content.

Given this last possibility, it is necessary to delve into the rationale behind Sessō’s selection of specific parts for inclusion in his text. To accomplish this, we must begin by scrutinizing the structure of Feiyin’s original text. Feiyin’s Yuandao pixie shuo is divided by the author himself into four sections, each bearing a title:

• Revealing the root of the heretical view 揭邪見根源;
• Revealing the heretical view that slanders the Buddha with emptiness 揭邪見以空無謗佛;
• Revealing the heretical view that deviates from obligation, causing confusion by dividing souls into three types 揭邪見不循本分以三魂惑世;
• Revealing the heretical view falsely believes that the myriad things cannot be one 揭邪見迷萬物不能為一體.

In the quoted text, parts (1) to (8) are all extracted from the first section of Yuandao pixie shuo. While parts (1) to (5) are presented in a continuous manner with omissions in between, parts (6) to (8) exhibit a divergence in sequencing, as Sessō places the conclusion (8) before arguments (6) and (7). Within the passage, there are missing sentences between (7) and (8), which I have enclosed in brackets. Between (8) and (6), the original text entails a logical deduction concerning the fallacy of positing a beginningless and endless God (Wu 2003).22 Although this logical deduction is omitted, the essential meaning of the text remains unaltered. In Sessō’s text, the alteration in the order of the conclusion and arguments from Feiyin’s original text does not fundamentally change its significance. Therefore, from a structural perspective, parts (1) to (8) constitute an abridged rendition of the first section of Feiyin’s Yuandao pixie shuo.

Parts (9) and (10) exhibit a slight ambiguity when compared to the preceding sections. Part (9) comprises a quotation from the third section of the original text, while part (10) is a quotation from the second section. These two sections are notably brief and repetitive, reiterating arguments that Sessō had already presented in the text prior to his quotations.

I would like to propose a hypothesis that the entire quote primarily consists of extracts from the first section of Yuandao pixie shuo. Considering Sessō’s limited time while interacting with Chinese monks in Nagasaki, it would have been impractical for him to transcribe the entire text. Thus, he likely chose to extract primarily from the first section, as it offers a metaphysical and cosmological perspective that supplements his existing arguments. In the preceding paragraphs, Sessō had already discussed how Christians failed to grasp the Buddhist concepts of emptiness and the unity of all phenomena, which aligns with the content found in sections (2) and (4) of Yuandao pixie shuo. However, Sessō did not touch upon the issue discussed in section (3), which pertains to the Christian classification of three types of souls. It is possible that Sessō overlooked this matter since, from his viewpoint, Christianity was a heretical teaching invented by Jesus, who only borrowed the names and forms of Buddhism. Consequently, Sessō may have omitted the discussion of the Christian classification of souls due to the lack of a comparable concept in Buddhism. Additionally, it should be noted that the doctrine of the three types of souls was frequently addressed in Jesuit texts both in Japan and China, often serving as a prominent point of debate between the Jesuits and local intellectuals in the early 17th century. Therefore, it seems highly improbable that Sessō was entirely unaware of this doctrine.

However, the possibility remains that someone else had previously created an extract of Yuandao pixie shuo, which Sessō happened to acquire. However, it would be puzzling if such an extract solely focused on the first section while randomly selecting two insignificant portions from the remaining text. Moreover, if someone else’s extract were more comprehensive than Sessō’s quote and Sessō extracted from this extract, it raises the question of why Sessō specifically chose part (9), which states, “Christ has lost in his original mind, detached from his original nature”. This excerpt does not significantly impact the core argument in any meaningful way. Considering the aforementioned textual analysis, it appears that the most plausible explanation for the nature of the quoted sections is that Sessō extracted them directly from Feiyin’s original text.

However, Sessō’s modifications to Feiyin’s original text indicate that his quotation was not merely a straightforward act of borrowing. Instead, it reveals a deliberate manipulation of the original text to align with Sessō’s own objectives. It would be erroneous to assume that Sessō found Feiyin’s anti-Christian arguments beneficial and, by quoting from him, wholeheartedly embraced Feiyin’s original ideas. Conversely, Feiyin’s original text was selectively omitted to suit Sessō’s specific anti-Christian discourse.

5. Sessō’s Connection with the Chinese Buddhist Community

Nishimura hypothesizes that Sessō encountered Feiyin’s text during his lectures on Rinzai roku 臨済録 at Kōfukuji, following his preaching activities (Nishimura 2018). This particular event is documented in Daien hōkan kokushi goroku 大円宝鑑国師語録, a compilation of the teachings and remarks of Zen monk Gudō Tōshoku, one of Sessō’s close friends. Gudō’s account provides the following report:

Sessō, stayed at Nagasaki, gave a lecture on the Rinzai roku. At the time, the Chinese monks listened [to this lecture], and celebrated it with poetry. I heard about the news that Sessō was helped by the monks from Ming to restore the morale of our sect.

(Okuwa 1984, p. 55)

Who attended Sessō’s lecture? Okuwa suggests that, during Sessō’s time in Nagasaki, the Chinese monks who likely interacted with him were Wuxin Xingjue 無心性覚 (1613–1671) and Yiran Xingrong 逸然性融 (1601–1668) (Okuwa 1984, p. 312). I suggest Mozi Ruding 黙子如定 (1597–1657) should also be added to this list. Wuxin arrived in Nagasaki and initially stayed at Kōfukuji in 1648. The following year, he relocated to another Chinese Buddhist temple in Nagasaki known as Sōfukuji 崇福寺. Wuxin hailed from Fuqing county 福清 in Fujian province 福建, the same county of origin as Feiyin Tongrong and the founder of Japanese Ōbaku Zen, Ingen Ryūki 隠元隆琦 (Ch. Yinyuan Longqi, 1592–1673). Consequently, he had a strong connection with the Chinese Huangbo branch of Chan 黄檗宗 (known as Japanese Ōbaku Zen). In fact, Wuxin played a significant role in inviting Ingen to Japan. Wu (2015) has provided a detailed study on this topic^. Yiran, on the other hand, was born in Qiantang county 銭塘 in Hangzhou 杭州, Zhejiang province 浙江. He arrived in Nagasaki as a merchant in 1641 and joined Kōfukuji in 1644, where he studied under Mozi Ruding. Impressively, Yiran ascended to the position of abbot at Kōfukuji within just one year. Subsequently, he became a key figure in the invitation of Ingen to Japan (Takenuki 2020, pp. 47–48). Yiran’s master, Mozi, was born in Jianchang county 建昌 in Jiangxi province 江西. He arrived in Nagasaki in 1632 and assumed the role of abbot at Kōfukuji in 1635. Although Mozi had retired by the time Sessō arrived in Nagasaki, it is possible that they had established a relationship prior to Sessō’s preaching. In 1631, while Mozi was still in China, he presented a plaque as a gift to Tafukuji, where Sessō had recently become the abbot. This suggests a potential connection between Mozi and Sessō predating their interactions in Nagasaki (Okuwa 1984, p. 297).

The Nagasaki Chinese community had close connections with the Buddhist community in Zhejiang and Fujian provinces of China during that time. Kōfukuji, being established by Chinese immigrants from the Jiangnan 江南 region, which encompasses areas including Suzhou 蘇州 Nanjing 南京, and Hangzhou (Yamamoto 1983, pp. 146–47), attracted individuals such as Yiran, a merchant, and Mozi, a monk, who were based in Xingfu Chanyuan 興福禅院 in Yangzhou 揚州 near Suzhou before leaving to Japan. This geographical proximity explains their affiliation with Kōfukuji. Not only did Kōfukuji maintain strong ties with the Chinese communities from the Jiangnan area, but it also attracted monks from Fujian, such as Wuxin, due to the association with the Chinese Huangbo lineage. The Huangbo monks traced their succession back to Miyun Yuanwu, who was based at Tiantong temple 天童寺 in Zhejiang. Miyun had a significant influence in Fujian as well. In 1630, he traveled to Fujian and assumed the abbacy of Wanfu temple 萬福寺 on Huangbo mountain, where he designated Feiyin as his Dharma heir. Consequently, the students of Miyun established a robust network of practitioners in the Jiangnan and Fujian regions. Recent research conducted by Marcus Bingenheimer on Miyun’s Dharma heirs reveals that their number and impact were unparalleled during the late Ming and early Qing periods, contributing significantly to the development of Chinese Buddhism (Bingenheimer 2023).

Within the interconnected network centered around Miyun Yuanwu, an anti-Christian network also emerged. Xiao Qinghe’s analysis of the relationships among authors in the anti-Christian compilation Poxieji 破邪集 (Jp. Hajakyū) reveals the close association between monks and Buddhist lay believers in the regions of Zhejiang and Fujian, particularly around figures such as Yunqi Zhuhong 雲棲祩宏 (1535–1615) and Miyun (Xiao 2013). In fact, the project to compile such a collection of anti-Christian texts was initiated under the order of Miyun Yuanwu himself and his Dharma heir Feiyin Tongrong. Wu Jiang’s comprehensive study on the Buddhist anti-Christian movement in late Ming China demonstrates that, while other Buddhist masters remained silent on the Jesuit mission, the Huangbo masters actively promoted anti-Christian discourses in collaboration with their Confucian literati lay believers, employing a highly organized and assertive approach (Wu 2018).

Poxieji, a popular anti-Christian compilation, was first printed around 1639 or 1640. It was later reprinted in 1856 by Tokugawa Nariaki 徳川斉昭 (1800–1860), the Lord of Mito. Naturally, the Buddhist community in Nagasaki maintained close ties with the compiler and many authors of this compilation. For instance, Ingen Ryūki brought an entire set of Poxieji to Japan in 1654 at the request of his friend and fellow student of Feiyin Tongrong, Xu Changzhi 徐昌治 (1582–1672), who was the compiler of the collection (Ito 1981). The anti-Christian treatises composed by Yunqi, Miyun, and Feiyin are all included in this compilation. Due to the overlapping networks of the anti-Christian movement in China and the Buddhist community in Zhejiang and Fujian, it is highly likely that Poxieji, or some of the treaties contained within it, had already circulated within the Nagasaki Chinese community prior to Sessō’s arrival.

In both of Sessō’s biographies, it is reported that, after Sessō’s preaching in Nagasaki, Inoue made efforts to persuade the shogun Tokugawa Iemitsu to designate Suwa Shrine 諏訪神社 in Nagasaki as the preaching location for Sessō. Unfortunately, Sessō passed away before he had the opportunity to deliver his sermons at Suwa Shrine. The biographies report that, following Sessō’s death, the people of Nagasaki, who held him in high regard, sought to invite Ōbaku monks from China to take his place. This ultimately led to Ingen’s arrival in Japan five years after Sessō’s passing. Kengan, in both of his biographies of Sessō, considered the arrival of Ingen to be significant and added it to his accounts, suggesting the following:

Zen Buddhism in our country was thus revived. Nagasaki’s populace, when talking about the revival of the true teaching, recognize more than half of the credit to the contribution of master [Sessō].

(Okuwa 1984, p. 10)

It is important to note, as indicated by Kengan’s account, that the veneration of Sessō by the people of Nagasaki was not solely based on his anti-Christian activities, but rather on his efforts to revive Zen Buddhism. Therefore, it would be inadequate to limit Sessō’s legacy in Nagasaki to his anti-Christian work and the sermons he delivered. Instead, his anti-Christian endeavors should be seen as a component of his broader mission to revitalize Zen Buddhism in Nagasaki.

It is worth noting that Sessō’s relationship with Chinese monks extended beyond his interactions in Nagasaki. There is evidence to suggest that his connections with monks in China may have begun well before his sermons in Nagasaki. One example of such a relationship can be seen in the association between Mozi Ruding and Tafukuji. Mozi was renowned for his calligraphy, and he was the one who inscribed the plaque at Tafukuji, where Sessō served as the abbot. The plaque bears the inscription “summer of Kanei 8 (1631)” and “monk Ruding of Xingfu Chanyuan in Great Ming” (Okuwa 1984, p. 297). According to Tafukuji gyōyū, a biographical record of the first three abbots of Tafukuji preserved at the temple, Sessō assumed the position of the second abbot of Tafukuji in the spring of Kanei 8 and commenced the reconstruction of the temple (Okuwa 1984, p. 20). The plaque from Mozi, therefore, likely served as part of the efforts to rebuild the temple. It is worth noting that Mozi himself only arrived in Nagasaki in 1632, indicating that the Xingfu Chanyuan mentioned on the plaque was the temple where Mozi resided in China at that time. Consequently, it can be inferred that Sessō had already established connections with monks in China prior to 1631.

Furthermore, Okuwa’s research highlights the close association between Sessō’s understanding of the unity of Zen, Pure Land, and Ritsu 律 schools of Buddhism and the practice of nenbutsu zen 念仏禅 advocated by the Ōbaku school (Okuwa 1984, p. 312). Given their shared perspective on Buddhism, it is only natural that Sessō would establish friendships with the Chinese monks in Nagasaki and engage in the study of texts produced by Miyun and Feiyin, who were Ingen’s two masters. Additionally, from an institutional standpoint, the Myōshinji branch, to which Sessō belonged, maintained a strong connection with Miyun and his disciples. In fact, when Ingen arrived in Japan, there were even discussions within the Myōshinji branch about appointing him as the abbot of Myōshinji (Nogawa 2016, pp. 234–50). Therefore, it comes as no surprise that Sessō had ample opportunities to establish connections within the Chinese Buddhist community in Nagasaki. This further elucidates why we find many overlapping arguments in Sessō’s writings and the anti-Christian treaties of Chinese monks. It also suggests that Sessō likely had the chance to read Feiyin’s Yuandao pixie shuo, as well as other Chinese Buddhist anti-Christian texts, in their entirety.

Thus, contrary to a mere adoption of ideas from Chinese anti-Christian treaties, the relationship between Sessō and the Chinese monks can be argued to be rooted in their shared goal of revitalizing Zen Buddhism. For instance, according to Gudō’s account, Sessō played a crucial role in restoring the morale of Rinzai Zen by delivering lectures on Rinzai roku in Kōfukuji. This endeavor was clearly aimed at the advancement and fortification of Buddhism, rather than having a singular focus of dismantling Christianity. Furthermore, Sessō’s accomplishment in Nagasaki involved facilitating tens of thousands of the local populace in receiving the Buddhist Five Precepts, an act that can be likened to baptism in Christianity. The significance lies not in the conversion of hidden Christians, but rather in the number of individuals who chose to embark on their Buddhist journey and embrace the path of lay believers.

When examining the early Tokugawa anti-Christian persecution, it is frequently contextualized within a socio-political framework that underscores trade dynamics, national stability, and apprehension over foreign intrusion. This perspective positions Buddhism as an instrument that the shogunate harnessed to exert societal control and oversight, as elucidated by Paramore (2009) and Hur (2007). This top-down vantage point interprets the early Tokugawa anti-Christian crackdown as a pivotal strategy employed by the shogunate to consolidate its political dominance.

However, an assessment of the individuals responsible for executing this anti-Christian mandate reveals that their motivations often extended beyond mere political considerations. Take Sessō, for instance; he nurtured his aspiration to reinvigorate Zen Buddhism in Japan. This lifelong pursuit manifested not only through his affiliation with a group of like-minded revolutionary monks in Japan, but also through his close involvement with or ties to the resurgence of Chinese Chan Buddhism. Consequently, Sessō’s anti-Christian compositions encompass a distinct dimension beyond the official political concerns: the shared objective of Zen/Chan revitalization enabled Sessō to engage with Chinese monks and, through this engagement, access Chinese anti-Christian writings that he incorporated into his own mission.

As a result, an alternate perspective from the bottom–up can complement the conventional top–down viewpoint. While Buddhism has frequently been portrayed as a tool for political control within the early Tokugawa anti-Christian crackdown, the personal religious inclinations of Buddhist monks tasked with anti-Christian endeavors could intersect with their official responsibilities, thus mutually benefiting both realms.

6. Other Potential Influences from the Chinese Anti-Christian Works in Taiji jashū ron

Other than the quotation from Feiyin’s text, additional elements in Taiji jashū ron bear resemblance to those found in Chinese Buddhist anti-Christian texts. For instance, Sessō states in Taiji jashū ron that the early Japanese brother Lorenzo23 “departed from Sasshū (薩州) to Rome to learn tenshugyō (天主教) and came back to Japan. This sect is called Kirishitan (喜利志袒). Lorenzo represented the padres to teach tenshugyō and attract people to convert to this sect (宗門), the number of believers amount to more than one hundred” (Okuwa 1984, p. 88). This description is notable due to Sessō’s usage of both tenshugyō and Kirishitan to refer to Christianity, since the term tenshugyō was rarely employed, if at all, in Japan during that period.

According to Ebisawa Arimichi (1910–1992), the Japanese Jesuits initially employed certain Confucian terms to denote God when they realized that the term they initially used, Dainichi 大日,24 was misleading. These alternative terms, which included tendō 天道, tentei 天帝, and tenshū 天主, were used from the 1560s to the early 1590s to replace Dainichi. However, in 1592, with the publication of the catechism Dochirina Kirishitan, the Latin word for God, Deus, was deemed the correct term to refer to God in Japan (Ebisawa 1971, pp. 269–71). On the other hand, the term tianzhujiao (equivalent to tenshugyō) gained popularity through Ricci’s influence in China. It was vehemently criticized by the Jesuit fathers who were compelled to leave Japan for Macao and China in the 1610s, following Tokugawa Ieyasu’s prohibition of Christianity (Cooper 1974, pp. 277–83; Farge 2012). A study of other anti-Christian texts produced in the first half of the 17th century also reveals that they referred to the Christian religion as Kirishitan, rather than tenshugyō. Conversely, due to Ricci’s influence, tianzhujiao became widely used in China by both Buddhist monks and other individuals. This term is commonly found in the treatises of Yunqi, Miyun, Feiyin, and other monks’ anti-Christian writings. Therefore, Sessō’s utilization of this term suggests his familiarity with Chinese anti-Christian texts.

Yunqi Zhuhong’s influence on Sessō’s understanding of the Christian God should also be considered. For instance, in the early 1610s, Yunqi identified the Christian God as a Buddhist deva, specifically, Tāvatiṃsa, in his anti-Christian work Tianshuo 天說.25 In Taiji jashū ron, Sessō expresses a similar notion that God is merely a Buddhist deva:

[Jesus] stole dharma from the Buddhists and adapted it to the heretical teaching. He either changed its name but held onto its essence or maintained its form but altered its principles. So he changed the name of Brahmā (梵天王) to Deus (泥烏須), the heavenly deities (梵衆) to angels (安助), heaven to paraíso (頗羅夷曾), earthly world to Purgatório (跗婁伽倒利夜), hell to inferno (因辺婁濃)…

(Okuwa 1984, p. 92)

Although Yunqi Zhuhong and Sessō identified God as different Buddhist devas, their underlying idea is the same: they both argue that the Christian teaching mistakenly attributes the origin of the cosmos and all phenomena to a single deity without deeper understanding or consideration.

Furthermore, Sessō regarded Christianity as a false teaching that employs a specific set of doctrines to impose restrictions on individuals (与一定法，縛住諸人). He criticized Christianity for disregarding the enduring nature of Suchness (真如常住) and the perpetual consequences of karma (因果不亡), while promoting the existence of a Heavenly Lord (天主) and the notion of an afterlife (後世). In his conclusion, Sessō argued that heavenly rewards and other forms of retribution are the direct outcome of human karma (蓋天堂等報，因人造業而有). Miyun Yuanwu notably presented a similar argument in his Biantian shuo, asserting that Heaven and Hell are the result of human karma (夫天堂地獄，蓋眾生業力所召). According to Miyun, Buddha prescribed the Threefold Training (戒定慧之教) precisely because he comprehended the origin of Heaven and Hell (Zhong and Xu 1984, p. 11537). Sessō shared this understanding and posited that the Three Poisons26 (三毒) in the human mind give rise to ten forms of negative karma (十悪業), leading individuals to traverse the Three Evil Paths (三悪道). The Threefold Training in Buddhism serves as a transformative practice aimed at addressing and transcending these Three Poisons, demonstrating the convergence of Sessō and Miyun’s perspectives.

7. Conclusions

The apprehension regarding the influence of European culture and Christianity upon Japan had consistently remained a paramount concern for the Tokugawa shogunate. Throughout the duration of the Tokugawa era, the government fervently pursued the objective of uncovering and eradicating any residual Christian presence within the nation. In the preface to the 1856 edition of Poxieji by Tokugawa Nariaki, he expressed his concern over this matter:

When the evil teaching [Christianity] entered the Holy Nation [Japan] in the past, Hideyoshi tried to ban it and Ieyasu tried to wipe it out of Japan. Hidetada and Iemitsu both filially succeeded their ancestors’ will and enterprise. However, the Shimabara Rebellion happened precisely during the most peaceful time … After the rebellion, the prohibition became even more strict. Whenever came an evil person [missionary], that person was killed, and his boat burnt. Therefore, the shogunate had destroyed the barbarians’ hope of converting Japan. Compare to the Late Ming in the west where the missionaries were only expelled rather than annihilated and kept out, the shogunate’s achievement was much greater.

(Kanzaki 1893, p. 133)

After the passage of over two centuries, the Lord of Mito would employ the contents of Poxieji, much like Sessō’s utilization in Nagasaki. This serves as a testament to the enduring significance attributed to Chinese anti-Christian discourse within Japan. Nariaki commended the resolute measures undertaken by the shogunate while expressing regret over the lenient stance adopted by the Ming government. Undoubtedly, Sessō’s sermons formed an integral component in the shogunate’s decisive strategy to implement the shūmon’aratame system in Nagasaki.

Sessō effectively fulfilled his mission by leveraging the anti-Christian literature available in Japan and China during that period. Although indigenous influences have been subject to scholarly scrutiny for decades, the Chinese influence on Sessō’s anti-Christian ideology has only recently received attention. Nishimura, as the pioneering scholar shedding light on Sessō’s quotation of Feiyin, focused her research on examining the intellectual impact discernible within the quotation. She identified Feiyin Tongrong as an individual who exerted influence upon Sessō. While Sessō’s text does indeed demonstrate a direct influence from Feiyin, it is imperative to recognize the existence of a broader network of individuals involved in the Buddhist anti-Christian movement, with Feiyin assuming a significant role within it. Hence, beyond Feiyin’s direct influence, it is conceivable that Sessō encountered a wider discourse of anti-Christian sentiment in China.

This study draws upon Nishimura’s discoveries and centers its investigation on the evolution of Chinese anti-Christian discourse. During his time in Nagasaki, Sessō engaged with Chinese monks who maintained robust ties with the Huangbo monks residing in China. This connection provided him with access to texts generated within the anti-Christian movement spearheaded by the aforementioned Huangbo monks. By considering this interpersonal network, we can now attain a more comprehensive comprehension of the transmission of anti-Christian discourse from China to Japan during the early Tokugawa period.

In conclusion, this article establishes three key points. Firstly, the inclusion of Sessō’s quote from Feiyin does not imply a wholesale acceptance of Feiyin’s ideas, such as the syncretism of Confucianism and Buddhism. Sessō modified Feiyin’s text to align it with the distinctive intellectual and socio-political context prevailing in Japan during his era. Secondly, Sessō’s quotation of Feiyin served as a means to propagate not merely the anti-Christian views of an individual Chinese monk, but rather a broader discourse embraced by a closely interconnected group of devout Buddhist adherents in China. Thirdly, Sessō’s interaction with Chinese monks in Nagasaki facilitated his engagement with a network of Chan monks in China, with a particular focus on Miyun Yuanwu. While their exchange encompassed various aspects of Buddhism, their collaboration extended beyond anti-Christian endeavors, reflecting a collective endeavor to revitalize Zen/Chan Buddhism.