Ise Jingû in Ise city of Mie Prefecture, is less one shrine and more like an entire system of shrines. With over 150 shrines considered under the umbrella of the Ise Jingû title, it is the greatest shrine in Japan. Ise Jingû is so prominent and is such a major shrine that it is simply referred to as Jingû. The story goes that the foundation of the shrines in Ise began during the reign of the 10th emperor, Emperor Suinin, when he ordered his daughter Yamatohime-no-mikoto to search the country for a new permanent home for Amaterasu-Omikami, the Sun Goddess. As the divine origin of the imperial family, Amaterasu-Omikami was formally worshiped at the Imperial Palace. It’s important to note that this probably happened in a very different way as Emperor Suinin is likely a fictional emperor with a posthumous name, and therefore lacks any sort of reign timeline or documentation of deeds. All the same, the shrines were constructed and fiercely worshiped around the 3rd century, transforming Ise into the city of the gods. Toyo’uke Dai-Jingû, also known as Gekû (Outter Shrine), is the second greatest shrine in the Jingû complex behind Kotai Jingû (Inner Shrine), the home of Amaterasu-Omikami. Enshrined at Gekû is Toyo’uke-Omikami, the primary caretaker and companion of Amaterasu-Omikami, providing the Sun Goddess with sacred foods. In addition, Toyo’uke-Omikami is the goddess of essentials in the daily household: cloth, shelter, and food.

For the casual: 10. For the educated: 10.

One of the most amazing things about these shrines is the atmosphere. The entrance to Gekû is, as best as I can describe it, pronounced in its stature and yet equally quiet and humble. You enter from the street as the path changes from concrete to stone, then plunges into a dense wood of beautiful cedar pines. The flicker of sunlight dances through the trees and an otherwise warm Autumn day becomes a cool a crisp enclave.

An empty gravel lot with a small shelter in the middle, completely off limits to visitors, draws attention to the sheer scale of the shrine. Like most of the shrines in the Jingû complex and others more across Japan, Gekû takes part in the Shikinen Sengû, a ritual once every twenty years when a shrine is rebuilt completely new at an adjacent site to the standing shrine. The the shogu, or Divine Palace, is the name for the main shrine where the god is worshiped. The physical center of the shogu is called the shin-no-mihashira, the heart pillar, and is the primary support foundation for the structure. When the lot is vacant, a small shelter is build for the unused heart pillar until the new shrine is built for the next transfer. Understanding the importance of this empty lot, visitors are able to better understand the scale of the shrine itself. And why is this external information important? Because visitors are not actually allowed to enter the shrine. Surrounding the current shrine is a tall wooden wall which blocks vision to all of the shrine save the tallest gilt finials and ballasts that adorn the roof of the buildings. From here visitors will have the best possible view of the shogun because when making the turn into the enclosure, a gate with a silk vale blocking the entrance is all that visitors will be able to see. Photography here is strictly prohibited and security staff are present to enforce that.

Why can’t I enter the shrine? Why am I only allowed to stand at the first gate? Why can’t I even see the shrine? These are all very good questions and I’ll be explaining that more in detail in my post about Kotai Jingû (Naikû). The simple answer is that nobility matters. Status matters. The only person who can really enter to any level of the shrine is the head priest, not even the Emperor is allowed to enter all the way to these shrines, though he can enter further than any other person. Sooo as commoners, we lack the stature to truly enter and pay respect to the gods. I would recommend at this time that you don’t wear anything too casual when you visit. When I was there, everyone, though not in formal attire, was wearing clothing on the nicer end of casual and I felt a little awkward walking around in gym shorts (I was on vacation).

But Gekû isn’t just the one shogu, it’s grounds are covered with various shrines to other primal gods and goddesses, and each shrine is built with its own empty lot for the next shrine in the Shikinen Sengû cycle. Unlike Gekû propper, these smaller shrines are not offlimits for common folk to see and pay respects to. This is where the shrine gets really fun, because each little shrine is up beautiful cobblestone paths with massive cedar trees towering above. In addition, this is also a great way to explore without massive crowds getting in the way. It was easy for me to forget that I wasn’t in a forest, but rather a small grove of woods surrounded by a city.

The heart pillar awaiting the new construction.