The reconfiguration of religion-state relations in the course of Japan’s turbulent 19th and 20th centuries has been the subject of many scholarly works. The visibility of religion in the public sphere and the interactions with state institutions remain especially contested in the present day. In contrast to groundbreaking ceremonies, shrine visits by state officials, or ties between religious organizations and political parties, the presence of chaplains of various religious affiliations in correctional facilities is rarely disputed. Quite the contrary: It is permitted, overseen, and organized by correctional officers, and has been part of the modern carceral system since its creation.
In Karma and Punishment: Prison Chaplaincy in Japan, Adam Lyons examines the specific historical genealogy of Japanese prison chaplaincy, with a focus on the chaplains’ self-perception that religion might provide benefits to a modern and secular society that has been intertwined with chaplaincy discourse and guidelines since the Meiji period.
Lyons describes his access to the field of prison chaplaincy as a unique combination of personal acquaintances and political circumstances, which enabled him to attend chaplains’ meetings to reform their guidebooks (5). By combining archival research, thorough analysis of official materials, and personal encounters, the author establishes a distinction between “dominant” and “demotic” attitudes. Simultaneously, he recognizes his limitations: potential tensions between private and public roles might not be appropriate to articulate in front of a researcher (17). While Christianity, Shintō, and new religious movements are included in the scope of the study, the overwhelming majority of sources relate to Shin Buddhism, which has historically been dominant in establishing prison chaplaincy (10).
Chapter 1 begins with an account of the mass incarceration of Urakami Christians and the newly stoked fears of foreign infiltration that dominated the late Tokugawa and the early Meiji government. In this, Lyons explores “the role that hostility to Christianity played in catalyzing Buddhist preaching to prisoners” (38). Shin Buddhist priests became the earliest chaplains, establishing the concept of doctrinal admonition (kyōkai), and ideally conversion, as a central tenet of early prison chaplaincy.
In chapter 2, Lyons illustrates how early chaplaincy discourse was adapted to the Great Promulgation Campaign (i.e. government measures to establish Shintō as a state religion during the early Meiji period) and the formal institutionalization of a modern carceral system. Ideological gaps that resulted from either a lack of clearly formulated Shintō doctrine (73) or the creation of a prison system without relying on Christian notions of sin and penance (79-82) were subsequently filled by Buddhist clerics.
Chapter 3 summarizes the standardization and institutionalization of prison chaplaincy after the Meiji constitution came into effect in 1889. Priests were eager to demonstrate their usefulness to the Meiji state (107) by accepting the delimitation of religion to the private sphere and promoting an individualized version of Buddhism that was seen as consistent with correctional rehabilitation (100).
The mass incarceration of leftists and other “thought criminals” from 1923 onwards is elucidated in chapter 4. While state officials may have wished for ideological conversion (tenkō) in a political sense, Buddhist priests interpreted their work as converting prisoners from external political activity to focusing on internal and private matters (123). During this era vague resemblances to notions of spiritual care associated with Christian prison chaplaincy emerge. The new wave of prisoners was regarded as misguided individuals, as seekers who might benefit from Buddhist doctrine (141).
Chapter 5 analyzes how prison chaplaincy adapted to the post-war era. Lyons argues that the chaplaincy’s self-image of serving the public good remained intact, even though the notion of the public good had pivoted from one of wartime mobilization to an emphasis on peaceful cooperation (146). Yet, despite the diversification of chaplaincy posts and the contact with American notions of chaplaincy, neither “religious needs” nor “spiritual care” took hold of chaplaincy discourses (155).
Chapter 6 discusses the current issues that prison chaplains face. They are assumed to contribute to the public good, but remain outside of public office as unpaid volunteers (185f.). Lyons describes this as a functionalist view of religion and how it is governed (192f.), hinting at possible moral conflicts when it comes to religious services for death row prisoners (199). The author also covers the work of Shintō, Tenrikyō, and Christian prison chaplains, as well as the incorporation of spiritual practices (207-214).
Chapter 7 closes the analysis with three biographies of prison chaplains, which depict their self-images and their understanding of their work beyond the official scope of their duties (219). The biographies also further elucidate the possible moral conflicts that arise in death penalty cases (250).
Lyons provides an excellent overview of the formation of Japanese prison chaplaincy. His method of combining and contrasting source materials with personal encounters and interviews proves to be fruitful and illuminating. Nevertheless there are some omissions, leaving room for further inquiries. While the focus on religious experts is explained by the lack of access to prisoners (17), the centering of male narratives might stem from methodological oversights. Female prisoners appear as an introductory example of chaplaincy work (xi), a cautionary tale of a female “thought criminal” is recounted in detail (138), and one of the three individual chaplains featured is a woman (228). Both the public discourses on crime and social work often evoke notions of gender, whether in defining perpetrators and victims or assigning character traits like care and empathy. Reflecting on how and why assumptions on gender do or do not shape prison chaplaincy and doctrinal admonition might generate further insights.
It seems tempting to interpret the history of Japanese prison chaplaincy as part of a larger history of secularization. Lyons’ history of the Japanese carceral system illuminates how multi-layered this process is, and how regional specifics determine its outcome. While state institutions first demanded religious orthodoxy, then secularity, Buddhist intellectuals always seem to have interpreted their adaptation as a re-negotiation, not a loss of their religious significance, prompting the question of whether notions of secularity require further scrutiny.
Laura Brandt is a doctoral candidate and research fellow at the Institute for Religious Studies, Heidelberg University.
Laura Brandt
Date Of Review:
January 30, 2023