The number of children in Japan has dropped for 40 years.
Some experts say it’s because fewer people are dating and getting married,
but there may be a different explanation oh god they’re turning their children into stone--
When you walk around Japan, or if you’re a real Japan lover, use Google Street View
to walk around Japan, you may see these cute lil statues.
You can find them on roadsides, in temples, or near cemeteries.
What are they, and why haven’t their parents come to pick them up?
They’re called o-jizō-sama お地蔵さま, because they represent the Buddhist god Jizō 地蔵.
Technically, he’s not a god, but a bodhisattva.
A bodhisattva is someone who was just about to achieve nirvana and become a Buddha,
but chose not to do it yet in order to hang out with the normies and help guide people towards enlightenment.
A bodhisattva is like a person who’s been waiting outside a public restroom in agony,
and just when it becomes available, he lets another person through.
Truly a being of infinite compassion.
Whenever you really need to pee, you should pray that Jizō is standing outside the restroom.
Bodhisattvas have magical powers and people worship them just like gods in other religions.
The main difference between bodhisattvas and gods is that serious Buddhists will teach
you great suffering if you call bodhisattvas gods.
Other than that, they’re about the same.
Not-a-god Jizō is one of the main A-list bodhisattvas, among the most popular and beloved
Buddhist figures in Japan, right below Krillin.
Long ago, he vowed to delay his Buddhahood until hell is empty.
He would prevent people from being trapped in hell by teaching them all to become
good, enlightened beings.
Which means that I’m guaranteed to become a Buddha before he does.
Not-a-Buddha Jizō is seen as the guardian of souls in the Buddhist hells.
He’s also the protector of travelers and children.
Jizō became a popular figure in the late Heian Period.
People thought they were living in the age of mappō, a time of chaos where Buddha’s
teachings lose their power and people become degenerates just warring and whoring all over the place.
Enlightenment was nigh impossible in that age.
It’s hard to find the Buddhist path between a hooker’s boobs.
The late Heian was a time of famine and civil war so people must have really thought it was the end times.
Writers wrote about death, artists made paintings of hell, and the movie Grave of the Fireflies was created.
Art was very gloomy.
People looked to Jizō for hope. Hell was his domain.
He was supposed to ease your suffering and help you get out of hell.
Look, he’s right there, in front of the restroom.
Women especially had the hots for Jizō.
If it was hard for men to reach salvation in the age of mappō, then it was impossible for women,
because of the monthly blood pipe leaks probably.
Feminism wasn’t exactly a Buddhist virtue.
When Buddhism came to Japan, it merged with local religious beliefs.
Pretty smart of them.
Merging with local beliefs is one of the best ways to spread religion, right below murder.
Jizō happened to take on the powers and responsibilities of native fertility gods, and grew in popularity
among women because he became the protector of children and the unborn.
That’s one way to become popular with women. Good job.
A Jizō cult formed in the later Heian Period among commoners and people who were s--t on
by society like the sick, the poor, and women.
They saw Jizō as a compassionate god.
Over time, people gave him more powers of compassion.
They prayed to Jizō for easy childbirth, healing, and long life.
People did rituals for Jizō to protect mothers during childbirth,
to calm the dead spirits of wars and natural disasters,
and to make rain.
The Jizō cult spread across Japan thanks to women, especially women who dabbled in
the spiritual arts like fortune tellers, ritual performers, and nuns.
According to some religious texts, in a few of Jizō’s past lives,
Jizō was a woman who saved her mother from hell.
Women were like, “Wow, religious stories about us that are not just warnings about
the evils of the cooch? Count me in!”
Over time, Jizō’s looks in art became more friendly and motherly,
then came the super cute child monk look.
Jizō protects the souls of dead children, including stillborn, miscarried, or aborted children.
Sometimes you’ll see these statues in groups of 6.
It’s because of the Buddhist belief that beings are born into one of 6 paths,
or 6 states of existence.
There’s one statue for each path because Jizō protects the souls of the beings in all 6 paths.
You’ll often see him holding a staff with 6 rings, one ring per path.
In Naruto, the Sage of the Six Paths also carries a 6-ringed staff.
In My Neighbor Totoro, you can see 6 giant Jizō statues in the background there.
Near Jizō statues you may see little ant skyscrapers dotting the landscape.
Why are they there?
Because of little baby souls.
In Buddhist lore, when you die, you have to cross the Sanzu River into the afterlife.
Jizō guides the innocent souls across a bridge to the other side, but the guilty must swim.
Now when children die, obviously children are innocent so they get to cross the bridge with daddy Jizō, right?
Not so fast, little brat.
No, most young children are guilty, because most of them die before their parents.
They’re guilty of causing their parents pain and suffering.
Selfish bebes.
They also haven’t had enough time to do good deeds and gain merit.
In fact, they probably have a long list of bad deeds, like drawing on the wall,
or telling mommy that daddy was wrestling with the babysitter.
You can’t trust babies.
The children can try to swim across, but they have short arms and a terrible sense of distance
so they would never make it.
Their souls are trapped on the wrong side.
That’s why this side of the Sanzu River is called Children’s Limbo.
Everyday, the children are forced to stack stones into these little towers to atone for their sins.
Build enough towers and they would gain enough merit to cross the river.
That’s why you see the little stone towers around Jizō statues,
because people walking by stop and make them to help out the lil bebes.
So next time you see a Jizō statue, take a few minutes to stack some stones.
Or knock them down. That’s what you get for telling mommy, Alison.
Unfortunately, the children in Children’s Limbo would soon learn an important lesson:
life isn’t fair, and neither is the afterlife.
They would build the rock piles everyday, but every evening these demon bullies show
up to knock over the rocks and yell at them.
The demons would also try to hurt the children, but Jizō would protect them.
Some say that instead of demons, wind and flames arrive every evening to scatter the
rocks and burn the children into bones, but Jizō revives them afterwards.
Parents made statues for their lost children and prayed to Jizō to bring their children’s
souls across the river.
Parents could also pay monks to do ceremonies for their kids.
Today, parents buy Jizō statues or figurines from temples after a miscarriage or the death
of a child, and monks are happy to sell them.
They’re like, “Oh I’m sorry for your loss.
Consider buying this if you don’t want your child’s soul to suffer for all eternity.”
Some parents today still find comfort in their Jizō statues after losing a child.
Some parents also build stone piles to help their child in the afterlife.
You’ll often see Jizō statues with red bibs and beanies.
No one’s sure how that tradition started or what it means,
but that doesn’t stop people from guessing.
Maybe it’s because children often wore red in old artwork of Children’s Limbo.
Maybe it symbolizes menstrual blood.
Maybe because red is traditionally a color that fights off demons and disease.
Or maybe it just makes them look adorable.
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Thanks so much you guys.
Alright I love you and spread the knowledge!
What kind of pizzas do Buddhist monks like?
Jizō pepperoni.