Reflecting the gods

A Kamidana, or household shrine,
with the mirror displayed in the center.
Image taken from Wikipedia commons.

Gods are everywhere because we are gods.

This is the lesson that I have learned from Shinto, and which I have incorporated into my understanding of my Welsh path.  This fact has informed my meditation, my practice, and my reading of myth for years.

If you were allowed to explore a Shinto shrine, you would find that in the deepest part of the shrine – I suppose one might call it the inner sanctuary – there is a mirror. Those with knowledge of Japanese religion might recall that one of the three Imperial treasures is a mirror as well.  On top of this, an important kind of offering that is prepared and given to the minor gods of home and garden is a set of small, round cakes of mochi  (a paste made by pounding glutinous rice) which are called kagami mochi…mirror mochi.

The place of mirrors in the rites is deep and significant.  Shinto mythology gives us the first instance of mirrors having spiritual power when Amaterasu Omikami was lured from her cave by a mirror and jewel hung from a sakaki tree outside.  Today, the mirror is one of several objects that in Shinto are held to be able to draw in the presence of gods and other spirits.  The mirror in a shrine (both the buildings and the small in-home shrines called kamidana) serves as a focus of worship for the Kannushi as they prepare for rites, and depending on the shrine (and the rite) may also be presented for the viewing of celebrants.  During the course of a rite, the presence of a god is called into the sacred mirror where celebrants can offer praise, make requests, and present offerings.  A mirror so empowered can also be carried from the shrine in a mikoshi palanquin during major festivals. 

Mirrors are potent devices indeed!

However, there is one dimension of Shinto beliefs regarding mirrors that is not widely known outside of Japan (or even inside!) – the belief that the reason gods can temporarily occupy a mirror is that the worshipper contains a fragment of divine spirit, a shard that comes from the human lineage that can be traced back to Amaterasu herself, and through which every human being is directly related (however distantly) to not only Amaterasu but the other gods.

In other words, in some small sense we are gods.

At first blush, this seems to be little more than philosophical legerdemain – but there’s more to it than that if you think about it for a moment.

Consider the awen.  Consider the spiritual forces that bind us to animals, trees, rivers, the sea, the land. Consider the place of mirrors and reflective pools in the West.

Consider the deep familial bonds that many pagans develop with their patron deities.

I  used mirrors in my ritual for years before coming to Japan, but although I had thought about their significance in whatever rite I was performing it had never occurred to me to think about them in this way.

There is much of deep significance here that we, as Western pagans, can learn from.