先祖を探る旅：菩提寺と過去帳A Journey to Trace My Roots

This journey has several research purposes, one of which is to explore my own ancestors. Speaking of ancestors, while it has become popular in immigrant countries like the United States to trace roots through DNA testing, in Japan there exists a completely different way to uncover one’s ancestry. Such trips are not yet common, but for several years now, I’ve been combining the historical knowledge I have gathered in my own study of ancient Japanese history to trace my roots.

There are various ways to explore one’s ancestors, but in my generation, it typically begins by investigating the hometowns of our grandparents. This is because our grandparents’ generation often left their hometowns during the post-war reconstruction period, causing a widespread migration into urban areas. In other words, grandparents generally belong to families that lived in the same region for several to many generations. Therefore, visiting the land where your grandparents were born typically becomes a significant first step in tracing your roots.

For instance, in my case, my paternal grandparents originated from the former Iwami Province (the coastal area of western Shimane Prefecture today), my maternal grandfather was from Akita Prefecture in the Tohoku region, and my maternal grandmother was from an island in the Seto Inland Sea. Both sets of grandparents relocated to the Kansai region after World War II, making my parents natives of Kansai. To explore my maternal lineage, I have visited Tohoku and the Seto Inland Sea numerous times in recent years, where I spoke with locals and conducted personal research. Having gained some understanding of investigative methods, I’m now traveling through Shimane Prefecture to explore the roots of my paternal grandparents.

For this particular investigation, I initially obtained and studied materials collected by my uncle before visiting my grandmother’s hometown, where I met relatives and gathered their accounts. Next, I visited my grandfather’s hometown. However, the heir to my grandfather’s family passed away three years ago, leaving no one currently living there. In such a situation, how can one trace their roots? Surprisingly, the person I sought out to talk with was a local Buddhist priest.

The reason I met with a Buddhist priest is due to Japan’s traditional reliance on the bodaiji (菩提寺), the family temple, as a cornerstone for ancestor worship. A bodaiji is a temple where ancestors have been interred for generations, and because such temples manage records over a prolonged period, it becomes possible to trace one’s lineage through them to some extent. The establishment of these family temples dates back to the Edo period, under what is known as the danka system (檀家制度), which required each family to be permanently affiliated with a particular temple. Particularly important was the terauke system (寺請制度, also called shumon aratame, 宗門改め) instituted by the early Edo government, which obligated every citizen to become a parishioner of a specific temple, forming a highly effective method for the Shogunate and feudal lords to control their populations. Today, this system unexpectedly provides a critical clue for our generation when investigating ancestral roots.

To give more background, the Edo period was marked by strict administrative control, making it difficult to move freely or change the temple affiliation that families had maintained for generations. Consequently, families typically maintained their association with a specific family temple from birth until death, fostering a continuous and unique relationship. While the formal obligation was abolished following the Meiji period, many families still preserve this bond today. It gives people a comforting sense of security knowing that their ancestors rest in the same temple, and that rituals and memorial services are held there, offering a sense of continuity through generations.

These unique Japanese circumstances unexpectedly become the most significant part of an ancestral exploration journey. Of course, this alone does not fully reveal one’s lineage. However, family temples possess a certain essential item to overcome this difficulty, known as the kakocho (過去帳).

The kakocho is a record book kept at temples, where information about deceased parishioners, such as their secular names, Buddhist posthumous names (kaimyo, 戒名), dates of death, and ages at death, are documented. Recently, the concept of the Japanese household budgeting system, kakeibo (家計簿), has become internationally popular, but temples have long maintained similar records documenting various family events. Today called kakocho, these records were historically referred to by names such as kiseki (鬼籍), tenkibo (点鬼簿), or reibo (霊簿). Primarily used as registers of the deceased, kakocho typically organizes individuals according to the day of their passing within a 30-day monthly cycle, recording their kaimyo, date of death, and secular name.

The recorded information is not limited to this; some entries include detailed annotations of the deceased person’s origin, family background, their relationship to the household head, and even notes on the cause of death, serving as important clues to vividly depict historical circumstances of the time. Thus, beyond merely tracing individual ancestry, the kakocho holds significant value as historical documentation, allowing for analyses that sometimes reveal past demographic dynamics.

The original purpose of the kakocho was to facilitate monthly memorial rituals—chanting sutras and reciting prayers for deceased individuals associated with the temple—ensuring continuous temple activities. Consequently, its management has historically been meticulous. Interestingly, the history of the kakocho is very old, with its origins traced back to the mid-Heian period. For instance, early forms of the kakocho already appear in records of the nijugo zanmai-e (二十五三昧会), a Buddhist chanting gathering initiated by the priest Genshin during the mid-Heian period. Although some accounts suggest that the kakocho existed as early as the Kamakura period, it became widely recognized as a systematic ancestral registry from the Edo period onward.

In my own case, I have successfully traced my paternal ancestors back to the Edo period. Furthermore, the precision of this research allows for constructing detailed genealogical records, including information about my ancestors’ migration patterns, how they established themselves in new regions, and how that lineage eventually leads to me. Essentially, the kakocho preserved by the family temple records the history of my family, spiritually connecting ancestors with their descendants.

According to these records, my ancestors migrated to a coastal village in Iwami Province during the Edo period, where they thrived as wholesale merchants dealing primarily in seafood. As influential local figures, they acquired an extensive burial plot in their family temple, establishing an early system for interring deceased family members. Later, during the Meiji period, some ancestors served as city council members and contributed significantly to local railway construction, among other documented activities. The genealogical records further reveal how the family dispersed during World War II.

For instance, my grandmother’s father served as a captain of a merchant vessel operating routes to Africa even before World War II and later captained military supply ships transporting goods for Japanese forces based in Southeast Asia. Unfortunately, his ship was sunk by an American torpedo during intensified hostilities with the United States, resulting in his death. Remarkably, the precise coordinates of where he perished have also been recorded.

By independently conducting investigations centered on the kakocho and supplementing this research by directly interviewing elderly relatives, local residents, and the head priest of the family temple, I’ve managed to uncover a remarkably detailed picture of my ancestry. This journey has allowed me to delve deeply into my roots, discovering intriguing parallels between my current interests and those of my ancestors. Indeed, while speaking to people familiar with my ancestors, I often felt they were describing me, resulting in an exceptionally fascinating journey.

Building upon these discoveries, I now actively explore shrines nationwide to trace my spiritual lineage, integrating insights gleaned from ancient historical research into my exploration of roots. Looking forward, I plan to utilize genetic analysis as much as possible to further clarify my ancestry. Tomorrow, I intend to visit Izumo Taisha, which holds the key to my roots.

This type of journey to explore Japanese roots, undertaken with an integrative approach that encompasses our unique history and culture, transcends ordinary travel to become a mysterious dialogue with our ancestors—a journey across time and space.