Written by Will Lerner, Communications Manager for Portland Japanese Garden & Japan Institute
An Introduction by Aki Nakanishi
Reverend Zuigaku Kodachi has been an integral part of the Portland Japanese Garden community since its inception in the 1960s, helping steward this organization, and helping it advance and maintain the cultural authenticity of many of our festivals. Reverend Kodachi has also been one of the most pivotal cultural figures of the Oregon community for over six decades, facilitating conversation and friendship through a diverse range of cultural forums for people of all walks of life.
Having crossed the Pacific for the first time on a 14-day ocean freight liner at age 23 in 1957, one can only imagine the enormity of the challenge that it must have been. For someone who spoke only a limited amount of English to embark on such a colossal task of propagating Buddhism across the Pacific Northwest alone, at least for a good part of his initial days in the U.S., is nothing short of unfathomable for me.
One of the most notable contributions of Reverend Kodachi to the Garden is through his dedicated commitment to our annual O-Bon festival where community members come together in August to pay respects to the deceased souls. Reverend Kodachi’s poignant yet soothing and meditative chants echo far into the serene grounds and waters embellished with countless floating candles, helping us heal the wounds by sensing that sorrows are shared, and respects heightened amongst all participants. I join Reverend Kodachi during the O-Bon ceremony to read the names of those we have lost: fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, sons and daughters, friends, neighbors, and pets. I am humbled and awestruck as he captivates those present with his prayers, escorting a diverse number of people to a place of unity. It’s a sheer pleasure to have him as one of the guardians of our Garden and our honor to recognize his contributions in this article.
Introduction by Aki Nakanishi, Arlene Schnitzer Curator of Culture, Art, and Education for Portland Japanese Garden & Japan Institute.
A Monk from the Frozen Reaches of Japan
On the northernmost end of Japan’s main island of Honshu is Aomori Prefecture. With two peninsulas at its ends, Aomori almost resembles a crab as seen from above—its pincers dipping into the Tsugaru Strait, gesturing toward the island of Hokkaido. Some years in Aomori snowfall can reach as much as twenty-one feet, a thick layer of white lasting into spring. If even today its winters can push the people of this northern prefecture to their limits, how much more challenging it must have been nearly a century ago. In such places resiliency must be stoked and tended to as much as the coal in the brazier. It was in this frozen outpost, in the years leading up to World War II, that Reverend Zuigaku Kodachi was born. The Buddhist spiritual leader has now spent more than two-thirds of his life in the United States, but the resiliency and warmth he generated so long ago in snowy Aomori has not lost its energy even at age 90.
On an unbearably hot summer day, a polar opposite of his home prefecture’s winters, the Reverend and his wife Keiko welcomed members of Portland Japanese Garden’s staff into their home to chat about his almost 50 years of friendship and collaboration with the organization. The Kodachis’ home is unassuming and pleasant on its exterior, cozied in the lush green of Portland’s further reaches. Inside, pleasant surprises await. In addition to being a home, the building also houses the Nichiren Shu Minori Kai Temple, which he established in 1974. Passing by an ikebana arrangement of flowers by Keiko and noren curtains, the Reverend keeps a tidy space with a desk and library. Opposite his seat is an altar. A sizeable wooden Buddha captures the eye first, and then its accompaniments: flowers, lit candles, offerings of fruit on pedestal trays, and a small figurine of the Buddhist monk Nichiren (1222-1282). To its right, a small zushi (enclosed case with double-doors used to contain precious items like Buddha statues or sutras) with a Buddha enjoys the company of fresh flowers, awards from His Majesty the Emperor Emeritus Akihito (The Order of the Rising Sun, Silver Rays, bestowed in 2008) and Japan’s Foreign Minister, and, charmingly, a baseball signed by Seattle Mariners legend Ichiro Suzuki. Before the conversation began, Reverend Kodachi lit incense and reflected for a moment.
Kodachi Sails East on Rough Seas
The Reverend was born and raised in the Buddhist Choenji Temple in Itayanagi, Aomori, the eldest of five brothers. “It was a poor life,” Kodachi remembers. “We’d eat miso soup, rice, fish, and pickles. No steak! I saw steak for the first time when I came to the U.S. We’d eat chicken maybe once a year.” Juxtaposed with his humble diet, Kodachi recalled his prefecture’s splendid Hirosaki Castle, an Edo period (1603-1868) structure that sits on the grounds of one of Japan’s most beloved sites for viewing sakura (cherry blossoms). Next to this dazzling spectacle, Kodachi attended Methodist junior and senior high schools and enjoyed his first encounters with America: vising teachers from Indiana. After moving to Tokyo to study at the Buddhist Rissho University, Kodachi would embark on a much bigger move across the Pacific.
Kodachi was selected by Nichiren Shu headquarters in Tokyo to engage in missionary work abroad rather than inherit the duties of leading Choenji Temple. While multiple denominations of Japanese Buddhism dispatch missionaries around the world, the Nichiren sect is among the most engaged in this kind of outreach. Kodachi’s journey east in 1957 was not one in the lap of luxury. From Tokyo, the 23-year-old stepped aboard the Kobe Maru, a lumber ship, as the sole passenger among its crew. “The ocean was rough,” Kodachi recalls. He had the unfortunate timing to be at sea during the massive Andreanof Islands earthquake, a powerful natural disaster that would trigger a tsunami and subsequently large waves across the Pacific Ocean. “Even if you gave me a billion dollars, I would never take that boat ride again,” he jokes. “It was terrible—I was so scared. I thought I was finished.” After two weeks of choppy waters in frigid March weather, Kodachi finally was back on solid ground when he arrived at Grays Harbor in Washington.
Seeking the Unity of Everyone in Portland
Kodachi settled into Portland in 1957 and lived with an American family in northeast Portland, going by the name “William” since his given name confounded Western tongues. Three years later, his wife Keiko, who was born into the temple where he was a live-in assistant while studying at Rissho, joined him. They would raise their three sons Herman, Philip, and John in the city.
The bitterest animosities from the World War II era had started to relent, at least from local government and business leaders in the late 1950s. Kodachi was received by a city that was more open to those of Japanese ancestry than it had been. While racist tension was still all too present in 1959, he would oversee the opening of a new and modern Nichiren Buddhist temple in Southeast Portland. The new facility, for a congregation that had existed since 1930, earned cheery coverage in The Oregonian. Keiko would also become an important figure in the community. Holding the highest teaching rank of Ikkyu Shihan Riji, she started the Portland Chapter of Sogetsu School of Ikebana, an organization she still teaches with today as its Director Emeritus.
As is the case with any of the world’s major religions, Buddhism has several different sects, each with their own attending philosophies and points of emphasis. Nichiren-shu, the form of Buddhism Kodachi follows, takes its name after its founder, a 13th century Buddhist priest from the area that today is known as Chiba Prefecture. A controversial figure during his lifetime, Nichiren was famously associated with his unyielding commitment to the teachings of the Lotus Sutra, one of the most revered doctrines within the Mahayana sutras, itself a large body of Buddhist scripture that may have been written as early as the first century B.C.E. Nichiren Buddhism is considered a branch of Mahayana Buddhism and is distinct from other sects such as Zen or Pure Land.
Whereas Nichiren the man may have been famously intractable in his beliefs, Reverend Kodachi has had a storied career of preaching the oneness of humankind and disseminating messages of tolerance. Kodachi notes in his book, The World of “Thus I Have Heard,” that Mahayana Buddhism and writings such as the Lotus Sutra took shape in South Asia’s Indus Valley, a nexus shaped by Punjabi and Mediterranean cultures. In the Lotus Sutra, concepts and items from areas throughout the Mediterranean and along the Silk Road are present. In short, Kodachi sees the most important scripture of his faith as something made more beautiful because it was woven from the threads of many different peoples. “True Japanese Buddhism should be able to withstand the chaos of the modern era; the undercurrents of world history; and accept the diversity of global culture over the coming centuries,” he writes.
His belief in the power of cultural understanding is something that seems to have guided Kodachi and cemented his standing as one of Portland’s most highly regarded spiritual leaders. In addition to attending to his congregation’s needs, Kodachi founded the Japanese language program at Lewis & Clark College in 1962. Later bestowed the title of Professor Emeritus, Kodachi’s efforts were clearly admired by his colleagues at the academic institution. “You are a man of deep learning, intellect, and dedication to humanity,” Jane Monnig Atkinson, former Vice President and Provost at Lewis & Clark writes.
Kodachi’s association with Portland Japanese Garden is well-known due to him being the catalyst behind the cultural institution’s annual hosting of O-Bon (Spirt Festival). Some may not be aware that he tracked its development before the Garden had even formally organized. This may be because one of his earliest students happened to be one of the most seminal figures in Portland Japanese Garden history: Philip Englehart, the first President of its Board of Directors. Englehart was famously passionate for his desire to have an authentic and beautiful Japanese garden built in Portland, making more than one trip to Japan itself to help gather resources and often donating his own money to help the burgeoning attraction take shape. “He loved Japan,” Kodachi recalled. “He’d visit famous Japanese gardens and temples.” The reverend also would meet Professor Takuma Tono, the original designer of Portland Japanese Garden in these early years. Reflecting on the scarred landscape he’s witnessed transform into an immaculate and lush oasis, Kodachi simply says: “It’s a dream, a dream garden.”
Sharing Feelings of Love and Respect for the Deceased
In 1976, Reverend Kodachi introduced O-Bon to Portland Japanese Garden when he learned the organization was going to host Bon-Odori. Bon-Odori, still celebrated at the Garden and nicknamed the Summer Festival, is actually a series of community dances held throughout Japan around O-Bon in July or August. Tracing its origins to practices developed by the Buddhist monk Ippen (1239-1289), Bon-Odori is seen as a way for its participants to welcome and please their departed ancestors with dance. Kodachi approached the Garden’s staff to pair it with O-Bon, as Bon-Odori is deeply associated and celebrated in conjunction with the Spirit Festival in his native country. The initial celebrations of O-Bon were far less involved than they are today—Kodachi would show up and chant from the Lotus Sutra, not even having a table to sit at.
The Garden’s hosting of O-Bon began to resemble what one sees today after about one decade. As has been the case for the past several years, Kodachi sits at a table near the upper pond of the Strolling Pond Garden. Members mourn peacefully together as names of the recently departed are read. During toro nagashi, a ceremony of floating lanterns, candles float near the Moon Bridge. Throughout the landscape, stone lanterns are lit to help the spirits find their way home. Quietly beautiful, the proceedings are an elegant shade of somber, never morose nor cloying, never austere nor chilly. While unmistakably a Buddhist tradition, Kodachi has made it welcoming for anyone from anywhere. In a 2022 article for the Nichiren Shu News, writer Eriko Rowe translated an essay written in Japanese where the Reverend explained in further detail his approach to O-Bon at the Garden:
“People in the U.S., even those who are not affiliated with any religious group, share the same feelings of love and respect for their deceased loved ones as people in Japan. … It seems that people here can relate to the spirituality and mystery of Buddhism, beyond the language barrier. … I think that it is a common wish for all of humankind to guide the deceased safely to the other world.”
Adding to the evening’s warmth is the fact that O-Bon at Portland Japanese Garden is an annual family undertaking for the Kodachis. “On the days we hold O-Bon, Reverend and Mrs. Kodachi are accompanied by their family members, including grandchildren at times,” shares Mayuko Sasanuma, Director of Cultural Programs. “Their youngest son, John [who served on the Garden’s Board of Trustees, 2013-18], told me how Reverend Kodachi mentally and physically prepares himself in the months leading up to the event. This level of commitment and dedication really humbles me to be a small part of a nearly half-century of tradition that Reverend Kodachi carried; one that I’m sure will be passed on over generations to come.”
“Reverend Kodachi envisioned an inclusive event introducing locals of all religious affiliations and backgrounds to this Buddhist tradition,” shares Kelsey Cleveland, Cultural Programs Manager. “Most attendees don’t understand the Japanese he chants from the Lotus Sutra. That is okay. I can speak personally when I say how meaningful the event can be when grieving a loss. The first year I organized O-Bon at the Garden coincided with the one-year anniversary of the death of my father. The chance to mourn peacefully together as names of the recently departed are read moved me. I felt a sense of peace as I watched a candle representing my father join others floating in the upper pond. In the United States, we don’t have many rituals to mourn and honor the departed together. I’m thankful for Reverend Kodachi for giving us the opportunity do this surrounded by the beauty of Portland Japanese Garden at dusk.”
“While having been confined to this side of the Pacific during the pandemic, I lost a few close family members and friends back in Japan and I couldn’t go home to attend their funerals,” adds Sasanuma. “Having the privilege to attend the Garden’s O-Bon ceremony gave me the opportunity to mourn their passing, honor their life and give it a proper closure.”
A Well-Earned Life of Quiet Comfort
When he’s not leading a cultural event, Reverend Kodachi enjoys the Garden for its beauty, noting his affinity for the Kashintei Tea House, a location in which his wife Keiko attended its very first Tea Ceremonies, and the Mount Hood Overlook. He also feels that the organization has made a “great contribution” to helping transform peoples’ perception of Japan, calling it a spiritual treasure. “People rediscover the value of life here, that’s what Portland Japanese Garden provides.” It’s a heartwarming endorsement from someone who has devoted decades to not just aiding those of Japanese ancestry, but his second home’s population entire.
“Reverend Kodachi, both through his religious and academic career, has contributed greatly to the relationship building between Japan and the United States, including establishing three sister-city relationships and initiating various student exchange programs,” concludes Sasanuma. “As a relatively new immigrant to the United States, I owe my smooth transition to the local community to the path Reverend Kodachi laid for Portland’s Japanese American and Japanese communities for close to 70 years.”
Born into a humble life with precious few resources, dispatched on a lumber ship to a foreign country on treacherous seas, and landing into an area that still had so far to go in its treatment of those of Japanese ancestry—if there was anyone who could claim to deserve a comfortable and quiet life, it would be Reverend Zuigaku Kodachi. At the end of the conversation, in a home and place of worship he helped build through his intellect and kindness to others, he reflected on the many friendly dogs who walk in his neighborhood, the leftover Starbucks grounds he scores to help enrichen his garden’s soil, and a cozy outdoor space just beyond his office. “You’re welcome to contact me if you have additional questions,” he says. “If it’s fall, we can go out on the deck.”
Written by Will Lerner, Communications Manager for Portland Japanese Garden & Japan Institute.
The History of O-Bon
Kodachi, as much a scholar as he is a spiritual leader, has studied the origins of O-Bon, a Japanese holiday with international inspirations. Prior to chanting at Portland Japanese Garden’s O-Bon event, he walks guests through the significance of the festival as well as the etymology of the word O-Bon to deepen their understanding. Below is a summary of what he has shared over the years.
“O-Bon is an opportunity for people and communities to gather to honor our beloved ones who have passed and express our sincere appreciation and gratitude to them.
The O-Bon was officially introduced in Japan in 606 C.E. during the reign of the 33rd Japanese Emperor, Empress Suiko, but it originated in Central Asia.
O-Bon is the transliteration of the title of the Mahayana sutra, the Ullambana-Sutra. This sutra was very popular among Mahayana Buddhist texts. According to linguistic scholar Dr. Yutaka Iwamoto, the word Ullambana was derived from the ancient Iranian word Urvan, which means soul.
Through the transmigration this Buddhist text, we can observe the existence of international communication and diversity in the history of mankind.
Sogdiana (Sogdia) was an ancient Iranian state in the Old Persian Empire, spanning present-day Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan. Sogdiana was an important international trading hub between the East and West. Sogdiana’s capital city, Samarkand, was known as one of the major historical oasis cities on the Silk Road in Central Asia. It is through this vast network that the Sogdian people brought the tradition and custom of O-Bon to China in the fifth century before it would be transmitted to Japan.
The origin of O-Bon’s concept of Oneness has great influence on mankind and the history of peace in the world. Even though the tradition of O-Bon is closely related to Buddhism, its spirit is universal and widely appreciated by people, regardless of their beliefs or backgrounds.”