early followers in accordance with the progression of their “spiritual growth”<fnref n="93" />,” a frequently referenced concept in this faith. This was explained to be because as God the Parent had never before been openly revealed in the world prior to taking the foundress as its shrine, this all-encompassing deity could not be understood in the pre-existing conception of God in Japan at that time.

First, God the Parent was referred to as “God” (*kami*: 神). This Japanese term merits discussion because it is important to understanding the broader cosmological system existent in Japanese culture, which is highly reflective of Shinto ontology. “*Kami*” does not lend itself well to a direct translation into English, but can be approximately translated to “spirit,” “god,” “essence,” or with slightly more words: “the energy generating the phenomena.” In Shinto, *kami* can refer to the divinity or essence that exists in rocks, trees, places, objects, animals, and/or people. *Kami* exist in the same world that humans exist in and are positioned as part of the physical world rather than apart from it. Thus, by this divinity first being referred to as “*Kami*,” it was conveying its position as a god, though through this word, with somewhat different connotations than it holds in Abrahamic religious traditions. Nonetheless, in English Tenrikyo translations, *kami* is systematically translated as “God”<fnref n="94" />.”

In Tenrikyo discourse, in addition to the additional three “official” names of God discussed hereafter, this term is often accompanied with modifying words such as “God of Origin” (*moto no kami*) and “God in Truth” (*jitsu no kami*) “to convey that God the Parent is the true God.” Later, the Ofudesaki refers to God the Parent as “*Tsukihi*” (Moon-Sun). Prominent explanations circulated in Tenrikyo include that it was to convey the idea of God the Parent in concrete terms to make people more familiar with God the Parent’s existence because the workings of the sun and moon shine impartially all over the world and also because the sun and moon were commonly conceptualized as gods in Japan around this time.

Finally, this deity was referred to by the foundress as “God the Parent” (*Oyagami sama*), which remained the common name of reference for this divine entity thereafter in this (then-budding)

<footnote n="93">⁹³ “Spiritual growth” and “spiritual maturity” are both common translation for the Tenrikyo term: (*kokoro no seijin* (心の)成人).</footnote>

<footnote n="94">⁹⁴ In English Tenrikyo written discourse, “God” is written with a capital “G.”</footnote>
religious tradition, emphasizing its parental nature. I would like to discuss the etymology of this
term of reference to further lay the groundwork for explaining this religion. It is composed of
three kanji characters<fnref n="95" />: 親神様. The first character, 親 (oya), means “parent” and is a gender
neutral word. The second, 神 (gami), is the Japanese word of “kami,” meaning “god” or “spirit”
discussed previously<fnref n="96" />. The third character, 様 (sama), is an honorific suffix more reverential
than the more commonly used “san.”

As the reader may have noticed, “oya” is also employed in the term of reference for the
foundress, “Oyasama”<fnref n="97" />, which is frequently used by Tenrikyo followers as a familial term of
address for this religious figure conceptualized as the original *mother*, which implies her
benevolent maternal character. “Oya” is, in fact, a gender-neutral term and its employment in the
name of “Oyagamisama” is not meant to imply gender as this deity is held to be gender-neutral,
or perhaps, as I occasionally heard speculated, such as in relation to the name of “Tsukihi”
(Moon-Sun), dual-gendered. In Japanese Tenrikyo discourse, a gender is never linguistically
assigned to God the Parent under its multiple terms of address, to which the Japanese language
lends itself well. In contrast, in English Tenrikyo texts, the masculine pronoun of “he” is
commonly employed.

When I asked several English-speaking followers closely connected to the faith who had studied
it in formal contexts and were aware of the lack of its gender specification in Japanese Tenrikyo
discourse why the pronoun “he” was frequently employed in English translations, the response I
most commonly received was that this was a difficult issue to navigate in translation. They
supposed that translators probably opted for the masculine pronoun in English because “he” was
usually employed in this language for God, particularly as it was sometimes noted, in Christian
discourse which often linguistically served as the model for Tenrikyo’s English translations. In
this response, it was communicated that the “he” frequently employed in English Tenrikyo

<footnote n="95">⁹⁵ Often, though not always, Oyagamisama is written in the Tenrikyo religion with hiragana syllabic characters: おやがみさま</footnote>

<footnote n="96">⁹⁶ As is common in Japanese compound words, the “k” of “kami” became a “g” in its phonetic pronunciation of this compound word.</footnote>

<footnote n="97">⁹⁷ “Sama” in “Oyasama” is the same reverential suffix used in “Oyagamisama.”</footnote>
discourse was not meant to communicate the masculine nature of this gender-neutral deity, but
was meant rather to infer this pronoun's gender-neutral usage reflective of the masculine version
of words serving also as their genderless version, which I would like to add, in current times, has
become less prevalent. In this thesis, I chose, instead, to employ the genderless pronoun of "it" to
refer to this divinity. This was a stylistic choice on my part to convey its genderless character, as
is taught in the faith and conveyed in its discourse in Japanese: the language through which this
religion came about and continues to most prominently function.

During my fieldwork and after, I sometimes discussed this religious tradition with non-Tenrikyo,
non-Japanese people. Sometimes, they posed the question or the supposition that God the Parent
was the male parent (i.e. the father) and Oyasama was the female parent (i.e. the mother) and that
it was through their union that humans were created. This idea is not, in fact, reflective of
Tenrikyo theology which states in its creation story, that in the beginning the world was a muddy
ocean, which God the Parent found tasteless, and thus, decided to create humans in order to see
them live the “Joyous Life.” Looking through the muddy waters, God found a fish and a serpent
to serve as the models of husband and wife respectively<fnref n="98" />. Oyasama is explained to have the soul
of the serpent which served as the feminine side of this union<fnref n="99" />, who conceived and gave birth to
the first beings who over time would develop into humans. The husband figure of the fish fades
away from this story, leaving only the maternal figure of Oyasama in the contemporary
reverential focus toward these original parents, with what precisely happened to the husband
character of the fish somewhat unclear. Similar to a number of other somewhat undefined aspects
of the faith, I heard numerous theories about this matter from followers over the course of my
fieldwork.

It is taught that the sacred name of God the Parent conveyed through the foundress' revelations is Tenri-O-no-Mikoto (てんりおうのみこと or 天理王命<fnref n="100" />). This term of reference is used in prayer, particularly in the scripted versions of prayer via the Service ritual and the administration

<footnote n="98">⁹⁸ This is a very abridged version of Tenrikyo's creation story.</footnote>

<footnote n="99">⁹⁹ In contrast to the Judeo-Christian story of Eve being tempted to eat the forbidden fruit by a serpent, in the Tenrikyo creation story, there are no negative connotations attached to the role of a snake.</footnote>

<footnote n="100">¹⁰⁰ Both the phonetic script of hiragana and the kanji characters are used to write Tenri-O-no-Mikoto in Tenrikyo texts.</footnote>
of the Sazuke faith healing ritual. The etymology of this divine term of reference (and
connectedly, the name from which “Tenrikyo” is derived) is an important component to
understanding its theological position. This divine name is written with four kanji characters. The
first, 天 (ten), is most commonly translated into English as “heaven,” but as I heard from a
bilingual English-Japanese instructor of the Tenrikyo European Seminar training at TEC, in this
context, this kanji can also be translated as “supernatural,” “transcendental,” or “metaphysical.”
The second kanji character, 理 (ri), this instructor explained, can be translated into English as
“way,” “path, “reason,” or “truth,” the latter being the most common translation currently used in
this religious tradition. The third character, 王 (O), he explained, can be translated as “ruler” or
“king,” but can also mean “moral leader.” The “no” in this term is a somewhat inconsequential
syllable. The final kanji, 命 (Mikoto), is an honorific suffix used for deities, such as in Shinto.
Thus, the sacred name of “Tenri-O-no-Mikoto” can be translated into English as “the Divine
Ruler of Heavenly Reason” or some other variation derived from the term’s etymology.

Conceptualizing the physical body and the heart/mind in Tenrikyo

In addition to the faith's central teaching pertaining to the reason God the Parent created humans
and the ultimate destiny and goal of human existence and the path of Tenrikyo, there are several
other teachings that are pivotal to the faith. The most prominent is that the body is lent to us from
God the Parent (conveyed most prominently in Tenrikyo as kashimono-karimono<fnref n="101" />- "a thing
lent, a thing borrowed") and that only the heart/mind (kokoro) is our own. This brings us to
another important point for understanding Tenrikyo theology and teachings in relation to its
original Japanese texts and teachings that will resurface at various points of this thesis. Because
Tenrikyo teachings were originally conveyed in Japanese, and as the wording of these teachings
was often rather vague and open to multiple interpretations (as is common for religious/ spiritual
texts and traditions), translating Tenrikyo teachings and texts into European languages, such as
English or French, can be quite difficult because their culturally-linked systems of classification
and codification are, in some instances, quite different. One important instance of this is the
Japanese word kokoro (心).

<footnote n="101">¹⁰¹ かしもの かりもの</footnote>
“Kokoro” is most often translated in standard dictionary definitions into English as “heart” and correspondingly, into French as “cœur.” In Tenrikyo discourse, although “kokoro” is frequently translated into English as “heart,” it is also sometimes translated as “mind” and in French, sometimes as “esprit” (mind/spirit). While from a Western perspective, these terms may be understood to belong to separate categories of the self, in Japanese, the precise sense of “kokoro” is difficult to define and pertains to multiple realms of a person that are positioned as distinct in the linguistic systems of English and French. An example of the more expansive meaning of “kokoro” in comparison to its English and French counterparts can be found in the Japanese term invented for the discipline of “psychology,” shinrigaku (心理学), written with the kanji characters of “kokoro” (心), reason/logic (理), and study (学).

In my exploration of trying to better understand the meaning of “kokoro,” I asked various Japanese people, both Tenrikyo followers and otherwise, to show me where on their body their “kokoro” was located. Some people would gesture to their chest, while others, taking a broader view of this term, would gesture to their general being from their head to their torso, saying they supposed it was about all that, though they weren’t really sure. The specific definition of “kokoro,” its translational terms in languages such as English and French, and where on the body these terms are understood to reference is an interesting point to consider in relation to how Tenrikyo references to them are perceived, and experienced, particularly emotionally, by speakers of these languages. As argued by Bénéï (2008: 94-95), “It is not language that structures a human being but a relationship to body and emotion that is mediated by language and ideology… Inasmuch as emotions are socially and culturally constructed, then, we should pay closer attention to what local discourses of emotion have to say about their concrete location.” A key reason for this is that a phenomenological approach to emotions allows us to reconcile the categories of public/ emotion vs. private/ feeling that may at first glance appear to be radically different by acknowledging social actors’ perception of them as embodied.

Although reference to “kokoro” conveyed a concept, and most likely an association with a certain part of the body, or at least bodily attribute, which I am not sure to have ever fully grasped despite being included in numerous conversations between Japanese Tenrikyo followers and followers of other nationalities trying to clearly define this term according to the English and
French linguistic systems, its vagueness or open-ended location on the body does convey something in and of itself. Its translational terms also conveyed bodily locations and culturally imbued emotional (or “intellectual”) meanings that altered the underlying physical and emotional meaning, depending on the term employed. Thus, on a very concrete, intimately sensed manner, it is questionable to what degree everyone in my multilingual research context understood this term associated with key Tenrikyo teachings in the same way or, extendedly, many other linguistically framed components of the faith. Although this is not an issue I put in the forefront of my study, it is one of numerous contributing aspects of the diversity of perspectives and ways of experiencing the world that was included in the multifarious nature of my research population that I do reference.

In this thesis, I use both “heart” and “mind” to connotate “kokoro,” with my use of one word or the other being reflective of the word generally used in Tenrikyo English translations. I choose to not use its original Japanese term in my text because my research context was multi-lingual and included Japanese, French, and English<sup>102</sup>. Thus, it was not necessary to rely on the original Japanese terms of this faith as the nuances and complexities of their translation into English and French were part of my fieldwork.

In coming back to the Tenrikyo teaching that the body is lent to us from God the Parent and the mind alone is our own, in this religious tradition, when a person dies, they are said to be “passing away for rebirth” (*denaoshi* 出直し: “to make a fresh start”). According to Tenrikyo cosmology, humans have been reborn many times, each time into a new body lent by God the Parent for use during that life. The existence of the body lent to us by God the Parent, and extendedly its functioning, is enabled through the “Ten Providences of God the Parent”<sup>103</sup> (*Juzen no shugo* 十全の守護), for which followers are taught to have gratitude. Physical ailments are said to be, in fact, physical manifestations of loving guidance from God the Parent for the misuse of our minds, resulting in harmful “dusts” (*hokori*: ほこり) on our hearts, which the path of Tenrikyo is meant to help clear away, sometimes with the particular ailment one is suffering from correlated with a particular “dust” and/or a misalignment of a particular Providence of God the Parent.

<footnote n="102"><sup>102</sup> Other languages were also occasionally also included in my observations.</footnote>
To expand on the concept of these “dusts,” in Tenrikyo, the “Eight Dusts” are taught to be eight harmful tendencies of the heart/mind metaphorically equated with “dusts.” More specifically, they are miserliness (*oshii*), covetousness (*hoshii*), hatred (*nikui*), self-love (*kawai*) grudge-bearing (*urami*), anger (*haradachi*), greed (*yoku*), and arrogance (*koman*). With this, listing, it is usually noted that falsehood (*uso*) and flattery (*tsuisho*) also should be avoided. Because humans have free use of their hearts/minds, over many lifetimes, they have accumulated these harmful “dusts” onto their hearts, thereby hindering their physical, emotional, and societal well-being. This, it is explained, is the result of the misuse of our hearts/minds over time since the conception of the first humans was facilitated by God the Parent.

The accumulation of these “dusts” are believed to develop into one’s “causality” (*innen*<fnref n="104" />) overtime, thereby affecting one’s circumstances in one’s present life as well as in one’s future lives. The principle aim of the path of Tenrikyo, and its centrally important ritual of the “Service,” along with performing acts of “hinokishin,<fnref n="105" />” is to “sweep away” these dusts from one’s heart, over time, increasing one’s own well-being and also that of the world, thereby helping to bring about the salvific state of the world of the “Joyous Life<fnref n="106" />,” free from physical and social ills. It should be stated regarding this teaching, though, that according to Tenrikyo doctrine, negative outcomes that come about due to the “dusts” on one’s heart are not punishments, but rather loving “divine guidance” (*tebiki*) from God the Parent urging us to purify our self-centered thoughts (Kato 2017a, The Doctrine of Tenrikyo 1993). As explained by Kato (2017a), the human mind (and heart) plays a key role in Tenrikyo’s soteriological discourse. The mind is positioned as the determinant of human experiences and all phenomena in the world. According to this view, God the Parent is believed to provide humans with blessings, such as good health and harmonious relationships, depending on the way in which they use their minds.

<footnote n="104">¹⁰⁴ Innen: although this word exists in the Japanese language more generally, its use in Tenrikyo is somewhat different, reflective of the meaning I explain in the main body of this text.</footnote>

<footnote n="105">¹⁰⁵ Hinokishin is expressly defined in Tenrikyo as performing acts of service for others as an expression of gratitude to God the Parent for having lent us a physical body and for facilitating its functioning. I sometimes heard followers discuss hinokishin as also helping to sweep away “dusts” from one’s heart, though how much focus should be accorded to this potential benefit varied according to the person.</footnote>

<footnote n="106">¹⁰⁶ I will discuss the Tenrikyo concept of the “Joyous Life” later in this text.</footnote>
Relatedly, I would also like to further explain the “Ten Providences of God the Parent” at this point. They are regarded as ten aspects of God the Parent taught by the foundress to be present in human bodies and the physical world which enable their functioning. The foundress gave these properties “sacred names” identical or similar to those present in Shinto, each of which is associated with an animal depiction. These Ten Providences are taught to have been enacted in this formation by God the Parent at the point of the Jiba in Tenri City in order to facilitate the initial conception of humans. This formation of active divine agents is ritualistically reenacted around the sacred point of the Jiba in Tenri City each month in what is regarded as the “real” Monthly Service, something which I will discuss in further detail in chapter nine, thereby rendering it an important ongoing component of the religion through the ritual actors who represent these sacred providences during this reoccurring and centrally important endeavor.

The general consensus that I heard from people in positions of conveying the teachings was that while some people (which most often implied non-followers) interpret this component of the religion to mean that Tenrikyo is polytheistic, this is a misinterpretation. According to modern discourse that I heard on this matter in a variety of settings and from a variety of Tenrikyo followers, Tenrikyo is monotheistic; the foundress framed this teaching in such a way so that it would be comprehensible to her 19th century followers in rural Japan against the cultural backdrop of this time and place. In this modern view, while early followers largely thought of each of the providences as a separate god, contemporary followers are more advanced and thus understand this to not be the case. This is but one of many instances of a flexibility contained in Tenrikyo that permitted it to evolve, thereby rendering it simultaneously fixed in its original form and also adapted to the time and place-based contexts in which it currently exists. Show hereafter is an illustration of the Ten Providences of God the Parent as depicted in the “Truth of Origin” (*moto no ri* 元の理), which in Tenrikyo explains how the conception of the first humans was facilitated by God the Parent.
<figure><img src="image_3.png" /><figcaption>Tsukiyomi no mikoto
orca
human body: male organ; bones & support
world: support in general</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_4.png" /><figcaption>Otonobe no mikoto
black snake
pulling child out from
mother during birth
world: pulling forth in general</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_5.png" /><figcaption>Kashikone no mikoto
flat fish
human body: breathing & speaking
world: wind</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_6.png" /><figcaption>Kunitokotachi no mikoto
moon, dragon
human body: eyes & fluid
world: water</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_7.png" /><figcaption>Izanami no mikoto
snake/white snake
(with human face)
model of woman: seedplot</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_8.png" /><figcaption>Izanagi no mikoto
fish/merman
(with human face)
model of man: seed</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_9.png" /><figcaption>Omotari no mikoto
sun, giant snake with 12 heads & 3 tails
with swords on the end
human body: warmth
world: fire</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_10.png" /><figcaption>Taishokuten no mikoto
globefish
Cutting off ties of child to mother at birth;
cutting off breath of life at one's passing
world: cutting in general</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_11.png" /><figcaption>Kumoyomi no mikoto
eel
human body: eating,
drinking & elimination
world: rise & fall of moisture</figcaption></figure>

<figure><img src="image_12.png" /><figcaption>Kunisazuchi no mikoto
turtle
human body: female organ;
skin & joining
world: joining in general</figcaption></figure>

<caption>Image 1: The Ten Providences of God the Parent in the Truth of Origin, Takeuchi 2016-2020.</caption>
Tenrikyo as an enacted faith

As the reader has likely by this point ascertained, the body is of central importance in Tenrikyo,
thereby rendering the focus I accord in this thesis to the physical body and embodiment a logical
theoretical emphasis, such as by looking at the influence of sensory experiences in perception and
constructed feelings that lend themselves to the formation of a broader group and to group
membership. Followers are taught to perform “hinokishin” (literally: daily contribution<sup>107</sup>), which
are (ideally) daily acts of service done for others as an expression of gratitude to God the Parent
for lending us a physical body and facilitating its functioning through the Ten Providences.
Hinokishin is also explained to help sweep away harmful “dusts” from the practitioner’s heart.
The Sazuke faith healing ritual administered by Yoboku principally to address physical ailments
is also one of the main components of Tenrikyo, further emphasizing the place of the physical
body in this religion.

Another key Tenrikyo teaching is that the foundress' serving as the Shrine of God was divinely
predestined since the time humans were first conceived through the workings of God the Parent at
the sacred point of the Jiba, now housed inside the center of Tenrikyo's Main Sanctuary situated
in what became, through this religious movement, the pilgrimage town of Tenri City (Tenri Shi),
which as noted previously, chapters nine and ten discuss in relation to my research population. At
this point, I would like to simply explain that the sacred point of the Jiba is simultaneously
conceptualized as the precise place from which humans were brought into existence by God the
Parent, the point at which God the Parent continues to dwell, and the point at which "heavenly
dew" (kanro) will fall from the sky once the harmful "dusts" have been swept away from the
hearts of humanity, resulting in humans living joyously and harmoniously with one another.
What is essential to understand regarding the ontology of the Jiba is that it very much renders
Tenrikyo a pilgrimage religion. Because all humans are understood to originate from the point of
the Jiba, they are greeted with "welcome home" (okaeri nasai), rather than simply "welcome,"
even if it is the person's first time going to Tenri City.

<footnote n="107">107 Hinokishin is a Tenrikyo-specific composite word. Hereafter, I do not use italics to write "hinokishin" because it is a commonly used term in Tenrikyo contexts, regardless of the language spoken.</footnote>
The main Tenrikyo ritual, briefly evoked previously, is most often referred to in English Tenrikyo discourse as the “Service” (Japanese: *Otsutome*<fnref n="108" />). I would like to first note for the reader that throughout this thesis, when “Service” is capitalized, I am specifically referring to this ritual, but when the word “service” is written in lowercase, I am referring to this word in its more general sense, such as performing acts of “service” for others as hinokishin. The Service can refer both to a shorter version of the ritual to be performed, ideally, every morning and evening or at other times of the day as a means of prayer, and to a longer and more complex version held at Tenrikyo sites of worship once a month that is aptly called the “Monthly Service” (*tsukinamisai*). It can also refer to the slightly different version of the Monthly Service performed at the Jiba by specific ritual actors occupying prominent positions in the religious organization. The latter version of this ritual is attributed with an additional mystical quality that I will elaborate on later. Each of these versions of the Service is executed through the performance of the Mikagura-uta songs and dances.

Generally, a shorter compilation of several of these songs are performed for the Morning and Evening Services, primarily the first three songs which are called the “Seated Service” (*suwari zutome*), and their entire rendition is performed for the Monthly Service. In addition to the doctrinally positioned principal reason for which the Service is performed, that of “sweeping dusts” from one’s heart, I also heard followers cite additional reasons for its performance, such as to express gratitude to God the Parent and Oyasama. Coming back to my theoretical emphasis on the role of the physical body, as the Service is the main form of ritualized worship, prayer, and ceremony in the faith, the body’s prominent role is thus further solidified in this religious tradition.

## b. *Early history of Tenrikyo in Europe and of TEC*

Now that I have outlined how Tenrikyo was formed and developed into what it is today and given a basic summary of the religion, I would like to discuss the more specific history of Tenrikyo's initial, albeit short lived, presence in Europe at the beginning of the 20th century and its official re-entry into the continent over a half century later. This re-entry resulted in the existence of TEC

<footnote n="108">¹⁰⁸ おつとめ Although this is the principal name for the Service ritual, there are also other names in existence which I will elaborate on later.</footnote>
and the expansion of Tenrikyo in Europe. When I decided to focus my thesis research on the social world of TEC in the summer/fall of 2015, TEC was about to celebrate its 45th anniversary. Thus, my two-year period of structured fieldwork<fnref n="109" /> took place at a time when the center already had a degree of established practices and history but was still in the midst of developing and figuring out how best to function in France and more broadly, the European continent it was charged with serving. At this time, TEC had already undergone several decades of evolution but was not yet completely settled into a fixed mode of operation and remained open to further developments and adaptations. Consequently, my research is not a timeless description of TEC, but alternatively, a description of the center and numerous spheres connected to it at a specific moment in time.

*Tenrikyo's initial efforts to spread the faith to Europe*

I will begin my account of TEC's history, which is intricately connected to the history of Tenrikyo on the European continent, with the initial efforts to transmit the faith to Europe approximately sixty years before its founding. The majority of the information contained in this subsection and the next is from the extensive research that Masato Kato, a Japanese Tenrikyo follower himself, compiled for part of his doctoral thesis (2017a) focused on cultural negotiations in Tenrikyo in postwar Europe with, similarly, a strong emphasis on TEC<fnref n="110" />. I met and spoke with Kato several times at TEC during my fieldwork, most of these occasions occurred when he was there for his research. As already noted in the acknowledgements section, Kato's research is highly pertinent to my own and thus, I refer to it amply in my text.

Although often less detailed, I also heard a good deal of this historical information via key social actors of TEC, sometimes in response to my questions and sometimes in group settings without my prompting. The initial efforts to spread the faith of Tenrikyo in Europe were short lived and did not materialize as had been hoped for. Nonetheless, they are an integral part of Tenrikyo's

<footnote n="109">¹⁰⁹ As I will explain in chapter one, I was connected to TEC, primarily via studying at its affiliated cultural center, for almost two years before my thesis became focused on this topic. I also continued to be somewhat connected to this social world after I decided to end this two-year period of concentrated fieldwork.</footnote>

<footnote n="110">¹¹⁰ Kato's doctoral thesis (2017a) was conducted at SOAS University of London in the Department of Religions and Philosophies. His research was funded by the Tenrikyo Ichiretsukai Foundation (the scholarship body of Tenrikyo Church Headquarters) and he was also a staff member of the Tenrikyo Overseas Department.</footnote>
history on the European continent and a part of TEC's communal history even though it occurred
many years before its founding. As such, on numerous occasions, I heard the account of this
initial presence remembered, retold, and reflected upon, thereby rendering it part of the collective
history that bound together the "TEC community."

This initial presence in Europe was in 1910, when a Tenrikyo church in Osaka dispatched three male followers to propagate their religion in London. As explained by Kato (2017a: 99-100), this decision was largely prompted by an encounter between this church and a fervent believer of Christian Science from England who was working in Osaka as an electrical engineer. He initially came into contact with this Tenrikyo church when he sent his translator there out of concern for his mother who was suffering from an eye ailment<fnref n="111" />.

Upon this Englishman's suggestion to send Tenrikyo missionaries to London, the church sent the three men mentioned above charged with introducing the religion to this new place. The three missionaries began their efforts in London by conducting healing prayers for members of the Englishman's family and other people he introduced to them. The positive relationships that the missionaries developed with practitioners of Christian Science led to their attendance of Christian Science meetings through which they were accorded the opportunity to publicize Tenrikyo teachings in a cross-religious setting. Their attempt to spread their faith yielded some results in the first few years, but eventually was hampered due to both unmet expectations between these three men and their church in Osaka, and the deteriorating financial situation of the Osaka church.

At the request of this church, one of these missionaries returned to Japan approximately a year
after his arrival in London, after which the church decided to send a different Englishman than
the one previously referenced. This new Tenrikyo delegate, a Londoner himself, was the head
teacher of an English language school in Osaka where the other two Japanese missionaries had
studied before leaving for London. He had "converted" to Tenrikyo and announced upon his
arrival in London that he was going to adopt the method of Tenrikyo proselytization commonly
employed in Japan in lieu of the interpretively more culturally adapted one that the other

<footnote n="111">¹¹¹ As stated previously, one of the main tenets of Tenrikyo is faith healing, namely through the administration of the Sazuke ritual, and faith healing, primarily through this means, has historically been the most common way people were drawn to and became followers of the faith.</footnote>
missionaries had been using. This led to a cease of the activities that these Japanese missionaries
had been conducting, such as public lectures, discussion meetings, and study sessions on
Tenrikyo, and relatedly, a conflict was created between this Englishman and the two Japanese
missionaries that resulted in a disbanding of the missionary group in 1913. This shift was also
prompted by the Osaka church ceasing to send remittances due to its worsening financial
situation.

Slightly later, first the London-born missionary returned to Japan, followed somewhat later by
one of the Japanese missionaries at the request of the Osaka church through the Japanese
Consulate in England, as by this point, the missionaries had themselves lost contact with their
church in Japan. The other Japanese missionary refused this request and continued to remain in
England on his own. He only returned to Japan approximately six years later due to his
deteriorating physical condition brought on by rheumatism, thereby concluding this Osaka
church's mission to London.

*How Tenrikyo's presence in Europe came to be based in a Parisian suburb*

Subsequently, organized Tenrikyo efforts in Europe were quite “low profile” (Kato 2017a: 101) until the end of the Second World War. A notable initiative after this monumental historic event that marked the end of the Japanese empire were overseas trips made by the second Shinbashira, Shozen Nakayama, and other prominent Tenrikyo religious actors between 1951 and 1966. Each trip comprised visits to multiple continents, countries, and regions, including Asia, North and South America, Hawaii, and Africa (Morii 2008: 522-523 [cited in Kato 2017a: 101-102]). Seven of the trips included time in Europe for various purposes, namely general observation of European societies and religious cultures, presenting papers at academic conferences, and participating in judo related events. The Shinbashira’s interest in and visits to foreign lands culminated in an official statement on April 26, 1961 which elaborated on the place of overseas missionary efforts at that time as being destined by God the Parent, calling for their revitalization, which had thus far been hindered in relation to Japan’s defeat in 1945 (Kato 2017a, Kato 2016: 2-3).

This period corresponds to a time when numerous Japanese new religions embarked on overseas
proselytization efforts beyond Japanese immigrant communities and former Japanese colonial
territories. Kato (2017a: 103-104) asserts that although the possibility of establishing a religious center in Paris, or elsewhere in Europe, was not included in the second Shinbashira's writings at this time, it is clear that his multiple visits to Europe were antecedents for later developments of the religion in the region. More precisely, Kato identifies an event that was a precursor to the founding of a Tenrikyo center in Paris that was included in the one-hundred-day trip made by the Shinbashira and others in 1960, chiefly to present academic papers at the 10th Conference of the International Association for the History of Religions in Marburg and the 25th Conference of the International Association for Oriental Studies in Moscow, as well as to attend the 1960 Summer Olympics in Rome.

On this trip, the Shinbashira was accompanied by Yoshinori Moroi, a prominent scholar of religion and Tenrikyo doctrine who was also the head minister of Yamana Grand Church, who had to remain in Paris for most of the trip before eventually returning to Japan and passing away the following year. Kato (2017a: 104) explains that Mr. Moroi<fnref n="112" /> reportedly had a strong desire to spread Tenrikyo teachings in France, which may or may not have been strengthened by his prolonged stay in Paris. Evidencing this desire is an account publicized by Mr. Moroi's wife a year after his passing, which states that Mr. Moroi, in praying for his recovery in May 1961 at the Main Sanctuary of Tenrikyo in Tenri City, made a resolution saying, "I shall quit all my duties and positions at the Church Headquarters and then start anew as a missionary. If I receive the blessing and recover from my illness, I shall embark on missionary work in France." (Moroi 1962: 7 [cited in Kato 2017a: 104]).

Kato (2017a) further explains that Mr. Moroi's wife also reported elsewhere that Mr. Moroi had indicated in his letter sent to her from Paris in July 1960 that he expressed hope to make Paris the base for missionary work in Europe, as well as a transit point for the Shinbashira on his missionary trip to Africa (Watanabe 1988: 452 [cited in Kato 2017a: 104]). As Kato (2017a: 104-105) notes, since these accounts are secondhand rather than by Mr. Moroi himself, the extent to which they accurately depict what he truly had in mind is unknown. What is more certain, though, is that there was an awareness amongst followers he was associated with, including his

<footnote n="112">¹¹² I refer to Yoshinori Moroi as "Mr. Moroi" to avoid any possible confusion with his wife who I also mention in this paragraph.</footnote>
wife, that Mr. Moroi held a unique vision about conducting missionary work in France and more broadly, in Europe.

Mr. Moroi's wish of conducting missionary work in France was then transferred to a Japanese follower rooted to the Grand Church at which Mr. Moroi had been head minister named Chikayoshi Kamata, who would later become the first president of ACFJT. At the time, Kamata was a first-year student at a postgraduate seminary course held in Tenri City that I discuss in relation to its more recent attendance by European-based followers included in my study. He had plans afterwards to either attend graduate school in Japan to be able to teach at Tenri University or to participate in missionary efforts at Tenrikyo Mission Headquarters in America, located in Los Angeles. In early September 1960, Mr. Moroi asked him in person to fulfill his unattained dream of conducting missionary work on his behalf (Kato 2017a).

Kamata recalls that Mr. Moroi viewed Paris as a more suitable place from which to start missionary efforts in Europe than places such as Britain or Germany due to its geographic and cultural characteristics. In response to Mr. Moroi's request, Kamata began correspondence courses on the French language (Kato interview with Kamata, Nov. 11, 2014, Tenrikyō Yōroppa Shucchōsho 1992: 10 [cited in Kato 2017a: 105]). This ambitious endeavor that was developing under the jurisdiction of their grand church would later combine with broader Tenrikyo institutions. As explained by Kamata (Kato 2017a: 105), Tenrikyo Church Headquarters decided to begin missionary efforts in Europe as early as 1961 and asked Yamana Grand Church to send Kamata from Tenrikyo Church Headquarters rather than from this grand church. The second Shinbashira decided to send Kamata to Paris as a student from Tenrikyo Ichiretsu Foundation, the scholarship body of Tenrikyo Church Headquarters.

During this same time, the Tenrikyo Young Men's Association had also begun recruitment efforts to send an association member to Europe, selecting Kenzo Tanaka, who had studied French at Keio University<fnref n="113" /> in Tokyo and was the foreseen successor to become head minister of his church. Kamata left Japan on November 12, 1964 and arrived in France in December of the same year. Tanaka left Japan in April of 1965. In an interview Kato (2017a) conducted with Kamata,

<footnote n="113">¹¹³ Keio University is a highly reputed private university and known as the oldest institute of modern higher learning, established in 1858 as a school for Western studies.</footnote>
Kamata recalled of his impression of the Japanese presence in France during his initial period in this country in 1964 and 1965 that there was little public interest in Japanese culture. At this time, there were only four Japanese restaurants in Paris and about 5,000 Japanese expats in France, with significantly fewer long-term residents (Kato interview with Kamata, Nov. 11, 2014 [cited in Kato 2017a: 106]).

It was in about 1968 that plans to establish a Tenrikyo center in Paris began taking form more concretely. There were two particular reasons that Paris was favored over other locations for this European center. One was that Paris was an important transit point to Brazzaville, Republic of the Congo where missionary efforts were underway and the number of followers there steadily increasing. The other was that, congruent with the reasons for this choice of location expressed by Mr. Moroi, Paris was recognized as an important transportation hub within Europe, as well as being a major cultural capital (Kato 2017a).

This year coincided with a more general heightened awareness of overseas missionary efforts and also the 50th anniversary of the Tenrikyo Young Men's Association. In commemoration of this anniversary, the Young Men's Association initialized a project known as the “Araki Toryogosha Eurasian Missionary Tour<fnref n="114" />.” For this project, Tenrikyo Young Men's Association delegates drove through twenty-nine countries in Asia and Europe in two Japanese cars, with the three goals of spreading the name of Tenrikyo, encouraging followers living abroad, and observing religions and ways of life in these countries (Yamada 1982 [cited in Kato 2017a: 106]). At about the same time, the Tenrikyo Overseas Mission Department drafted a budget for the establishment of a center in Paris. In order to help Kamata and Tanaka with their efforts in Paris, money was raised for them to purchase a car. At the end of 1968, the newly appointed head of the Europe Section sent a letter to Kamata detailing a proposal for what was provisionally called the Paris Missionary Base<fnref n="115" />. Included in this letter was information for its preferred location, layout inside the property, the function of the property as a base for missionaries from Japan, and the proposed (yet to be approved) budget of 25 million yen to purchase land and a property, which did not end up materializing as anticipated. This initial proposed plan for the center was to be for both

<footnote n="114">114 Japanese: Yurashia Tairiku Junkai</footnote>

<footnote n="115">115 Pari fukyō kichi パリ 布教基地</footnote>
cultural and religious purposes (a personal letter obtained from Kamata, dated Dec. 15, 1968 [cited in Kato 2017a: 107]).

After some complications in securing adequate funds, Kamata made a contract to purchase a
property in the suburb of Antony: a different property than where TEC is now located,
approximately 2 km from the nearest intercity (RER) train station from which most people from
Paris and other surrounding locations would be coming. This missionary base was later named
“Tenrikyo Mission Centre in Paris”<fnref n="116" />.” When this property was purchased, there was not yet a
defined plan regarding the activities to be held at this center, though it was intended to be one part
of the two-tiered institutional structure for the presence of Tenrikyo in this region that would also
include a “cultural” tier. In 1975, this center made a legal declaration as a religious organization
as per the Laws of 1901 and 1905, which stipulate legal regulations for “voluntary associations”
and “associations for worship” respectively and, consistent with previously expressed wishes,
was established with the intention to become Tenrikyo’s main hub in Europe (Kato 2016: 2-3). In
1976, this religious center was moved to its present location directly across from the La Croix de
Berny RER train station in Antony and was subsequently expanded to its current size (Kato
2017a: 113). On the 20th anniversary of its founding in 1990, it was renamed “Tenrikyo Europe
Center”<fnref n="117" />,” which corresponded more accurately to the intended roles of the center since its
founding (ibid).

<footnote n="116">¹¹⁶ French: Le Centre de la Mission Tenrikyo à Paris, Japanese: Tenrikyo Kaigai Fukyō Dendobu Pari Shucchosho
天理教海外布教伝道部パリ 出張所</footnote>

<footnote n="117">¹¹⁷ Tenrikyo Yoroppa Shucchosho 天理教ヨーロッパ出張所</footnote>
<figure><img src="image_13.png" /><figcaption>Image 2: Street view of current TEC building, Tenrikyo Europe Centre 2016e.</figcaption></figure>

After the purchase of this initial property for the mission center, an idea developed to hold activities in central Paris rather than at this location (Kato 2017a: 108). Various options for activities were considered, including a nursery, a Japanese tea or flower arrangement class, or a Japanese language school. The latter option was chosen as its primary activity. This decision was influenced by the guidance Kamata and Tanaka received from Atsuya Suzuki, an official for the Japanese Embassy in France in charge of cultural matters<fnref n="118" /> who also had a close connection to Tenrikyo through his acquaintance with the second Shinbashira (Kamata 2013 [cited in Kato 2017a: 108]).

Kato (2017a: 110-111) cites six probable reasons why Japanese language instruction was chosen as the primary activity based on Kamata’s accounts and historical documents of TEC and ACFJT. Firstly, Japanese languages classes were thought to appeal to a wide range of people who wanted to have contact with Japan. Secondly, language instruction could encourage long-term relationships with students since it usually takes years to master a foreign language. The third reason was that teachers can earn trust and respect from students without necessarily having a

<footnote n="118">¹¹⁸ Bunka tantokan 文化担当官</footnote>
high social status. The fourth was that at the time, there were no large-scale private Japanese
language schools for working adults in France. The fifth reason was that Tenri University
(located in Tenri City) had a Japanese language course for foreign students, from which teachers
could be sent to Paris to teach Japanese. The sixth reason was that at the time there was an
increasing interest amongst people in France in the Japanese language and culture, as evidenced
through an increasing number of university students studying Japanese as well as the increasing
popularity of Zen Buddhism (Tenrikyō Yōroppa Shucchōsho 1992: 111, Kamata 2013, interview
conducted by Kato: Nov. 11, 2014 [cited in Kato 2017a: 111]).

A property was obtained for this purpose in the 14th arrondissement of Paris in January 1971,
approximately three kilometers from the cultural center's present location. The Tenrikyo
delegates then began to recruit Japanese language instructors through their embassy contact.
Language classes began in May of that year at the newly established center named "Association
Culturelle Franco-Japonaise de TENRI" (ACFJT), as it still known today. In 2000, ACFJT
moved to its present location: a much larger property in the more central 1st arrondissement with
a large space in the underground level for exhibitions and the performing arts. The cultural
association's current status, which was updated in 2008, states that it "aims to develop friendship
and mutual understanding between French and Japanese people in the areas of culture, arts,
languages, and sports as well as to conduct performing arts and to operate a theatre." (Kato
2017a: 116). In 2011, ACFJT received an award from Japan's Foreign Ministry for its
contribution to the promotion of cultural exchange between France and Japan (ibid). Now that I
have explained the beginnings of ACFJT, which was my own entry point to TEC and the
Tenrikyo religion, I will now turn my focus to the complex, but pertinent, question of how many
followers there are both worldwide and in Europe, and relatedly, how one is determined to be a
"member" of this religion.

c. *The question of Tenrikyo's following by numbers and how "membership" can be defined*

To begin a discussion focused on the number of Tenrikyo followers in existence in these multiple
levels of grouping, which includes a look at this question in relation to my research context, it
should be reiterated that the "TEC community" and the presence of the Tenrikyo religion in
Europe via its followers is largely one and the same, but not completely. Some people included in the “TEC community” do not consider themselves, nor often are they considered by others, to be “members” of the religion. Similarly, some people in the Paris area, in France, and in Europe who do consider themselves “members” of this religion and are considered by others as such do not come to TEC and are not involved in its social world. Additionally, because it is sometimes difficult in practice to define who exactly is and is not a member of the faith, it is somewhat difficult to briefly summarize the general presence of the faith within any geographic area. Nonetheless, an attempt at responding to this question is merited in order to concretely better situate the reader in the socio-religious world I am discussing.

*Basic numbers on Tenrikyo's global presence*

Amidst the numerous and diverse Japanese new religions in existence, Tenrikyo is considered to be one of the largest, particularly amongst those which came about at the beginning of what is generally regarded as Japan's modernization that is associated with the Meiji Period (1868-1912) (Kato 2017a, 2017b). In addressing the question of how many Tenrikyo members there are, Kato (2017a, 2017b) explains that although the number is difficult to accurately ascertain, particularly because Tenrikyo does not have a proper rite of passage (apart from attendance of the Besseki lectures), a statistical review published by the organization of Tenrikyo based on reports from local churches claimed 1,216,137 “members” in and outside of Japan as of 2008. Kato notes this number to be slightly lower than in 1986, the centennial anniversary of the foundress’ passing, at which time the religion claimed 1,687,220 members (Tenrikyō Omote Tōryōshitsu Chōsa Jōhōka 2008 [cited in Kato 2017a]). Key to Kato’s statement is the word *claimed* as the actual number is rather unclear.

In addition to Tenrikyo's existence in Japan, where the vast majority of its followers are located, Tenrikyo has expanded its presence to more than thirty overseas countries and regions (Kato 2017a, TOD 2009 [cited in Kato 2017a]). Much of Tenrikyo's following outside of the Japanese archipelago is located in two former Japanese colonies. The first location outside of the Japanese archipelago to which it expanded was the Korean Peninsula around 1893 (Kato 2017a, Kaneko 2000 [cited in Kato 2017a]). At this time Korea had been under the Japanese sphere of influence for approximately seventeen years since the Japan-Korea Treaty of 1876, after which it was under
Japanese rule from 1910 until 1945. It is estimated that there are roughly 270,000 followers in South Korea currently (Kato 2017a, Lee 2011 [cited in Kato 2017a]). In Taiwan, which was under Japanese rule from 1895 until 1945¹¹⁹, there are presently estimated to be 20,000-30,000 Tenrikyo followers (Kato 2017a, Fujii 2006, Huang 2016 [cited in Kato 2017a]).

Much of Tenrikyo's following outside of Japan is also located in countries and regions that have received a sizable number of Japanese immigrants, with approximately 20,000 Tenrikyo followers in Brazil (Kato 2017a; Yamada 2010 [cited in Kato 2017a]), 2,000-2,500 in Hawaii (Kato 2017a; Takahashi 2014 [cited in Kato 2017a]), and 2,000 on the US mainland (Kato 2011). As noted by Kato (2017a), it is estimated that people of Japanese origin comprise the majority of followers in immigrant-based regions as well as elsewhere, including Europe. Non-Japanese people make up the majority, or entirety, of followers in some of the former Japanese colonies as well as several other regions, such as the Republic of the Congo (Kato 2017a, Fujii 2006, Lee 2011, Mori 2013 [cited in Kato 2017a]).

*Numerous ways of determining who is a follower*

Before offering an estimated number of followers in Europe, and in France, which are the “member” numbers most pertinent to my research context, I would first like to discuss the complexity of determining who is and is not a “member” and which, albeit flawed, method I used to ascertain the numbers that I cite. The question of if people are Tenrikyo followers and how many followers are present in a particular location was complicated not only to myself as a researcher who started as a complete outsider, but also for people born and raised in the faith. To elaborate on the complex question of how to determine if a person is a “member” of Tenrikyo, I will refer to an explanation of multiple ways this question can be approached that was given by an instructor of the three-week European Tenrikyo Seminar training program at TEC during my second year of participation. This instructor, Mr. Takeshita, was a Japanese Tenrikyo follower in his fifties who had been living in the Paris area and was a core member of the “TEC community” for approximately the past twenty years. Some time after moving to France, he wed a Japanese woman named Machiko who both moved to France and became a Tenrikyo follower through

<footnote n="119">¹¹⁹ In 1945, Taiwan was placed under the administrative control of the Republic of China by the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration. Japan did not renounce its sovereignty over Taiwan until 1952.</footnote>
their marriage, after which they had several children. During my fieldwork, this family was
frequently at TEC and were prominent members of the “TEC community.”

In addition to being active at TEC, the Takeshita family also hosted a mission station<sup>120</sup> in their home. Once, near the beginning of my research, Mr. Takeshita's wife told me in passing that they had a small mission station at their home, but that it did not have any followers. Somewhat later, during the seminar, her husband also mentioned their mission station in discussing the question of how it is decided who is and is not "Tenrikyo" when the subject arose in our class. Mr. Takeshita explained that this is a complicated question without a truly definitive or absolute response. He then expounded on this statement first by telling us about a moment that was revelatory for him.

He told us that there was a Japanese family friend who would occasionally come to the Takeshita's mission station for Monthly Services. One day, this friend asked Mr. Takeshita how one becomes a member of Tenrikyo. Mr. Takeshita told us that he was quite surprised by his friend's question because he had assumed that since his friend was already coming to Monthly Services, he already viewed himself as a follower of the religion. This friend, though, clearly did not think the same thing since he was asking how one becomes a member and thus did not regard Monthly Service attendance as something that in and of itself defined one as a member of the religion. His friend's question then prompted Mr. Takeshita to think about how one does, in fact, *become* a member of the religion and what renders one a follower. He told us that there isn't really a specific process through which one becomes a member of the faith. Some people think of becoming a Yoboku as being almost synonymous with becoming a full adult member of the religion, but in fact, becoming a Yoboku capable of transmitting the healing gift of the Sazuke is something different than becoming a follower of the path.

Mr. Takeshita then told us that the question of how it is determined if a person is a Tenrikyo follower or not is a question that could, in fact, hold multiple meanings. One possible way this question could be addressed is simply by if a person views her/himself as a member of the religion or not. From this viewpoint, whether or not one is a member of the religion is based

<footnote n="120"><sup>120</sup> Mission stations are the smallest form of lineage-based sites of worship. It is to lineage-based sites, rather than sites affiliated with geographic region such as TEC, that “members” are officially affiliated. I will discuss the Tenrikyo lineage system extensively in chapter four.</footnote>
primarily on one's own self-understanding. Another way membership could be determined is if other Tenrikyo followers view the person as a fellow follower based on their actions, such as being kind, helping others and coming to Monthly Services (if they live somewhere where this is possible, Mr. Takeshita specified.)

To illustrate this point, Mr. Takeshita told us about an instance of being on a subway car one evening in Japan at which time a drunk man was harassing young women while loudly proclaiming to be a Tenrikyo follower. Mr. Takeshita told us that even though this man was proclaiming himself to be Tenrikyo, because his actions were not in accordance with what it means to be a follower of the path, Mr. Takeshita did not accept his proclamation, nor would most other Tenrikyo followers. Similarly, he added, even if a person does not say they are a Tenrikyo follower, if their actions are in line with what it is to be a Tenrikyo follower, such as coming to Monthly Services, being kind, and helping people, others are likely to refer to the person as a follower even if the person has never declared her/himself as such.

He then went on to say that beyond the basic question of if someone is a “member” of the religion in the eyes of both oneself and other Tenrikyo followers, this question in certain contexts can also refer to a more profound sense of what it is to be a Tenrikyo follower. He used himself as an example. He said that even though he performs the Morning and Evening Service every day, participates in Monthly Services at both TEC and at his own mission station, tries to help others, and is otherwise active in the religion, if he was asked this question by a religious official during a Tenrikyo training in Tenri City, the question would have a different meaning.

The religious official would already know by Mr. Takeshita's presence at the training that he is a Tenrikyo follower in the most common sense. Such a question, rather, would be asking in a more profound sense if he was *really* a follower of Tenrikyo, meaning if he could honestly say that he continually strives to follow the model set by the foundress through how she lived, performs the Service earnestly out of true sincerity rather than simply because it is a prescribed religious act, etc. Such a question would be meant to prompt reflection on both oneself and the path of Tenrikyo. Mr. Takeshita told us that even though he could affirmatively answer with confidence to the first two senses of the question which ask if he is a Tenrikyo follower both in how he views himself and how other followers generally view him, he could not as easily answer affirmatively
to the latter sense of the question. In this thesis, I am mainly concerned with membership in the first two senses (self-perception and inclusion by others) as the latter, more profound sense explained by Mr. Takeshita is a complicated theological question that I do not wish nor view as contextually appropriate to address in this anthropological thesis focused principally on social dynamics, notably the question of what constitutes a community and how it is constructed.

As partially explained through the explanation given by Mr. Takeshita, how Tenrikyo “members,” including those in Europe, are counted and the level of “accuracy” that may be produced through each of these methods is a complicated matter. There are multiple ways to count the total number of followers, each of which presents a problem regarding its ability to produce an accurate count. Despite this difficulty, it is important to include in my thesis an approximate count of Tenrikyo followers both in Europe and in France. These numbers are to offer the reader a general idea of the size of this religious group rather than to assert an absolute count as my several years of fieldwork showed that it is highly complicated to ascertain an exact number in almost any given context. This lack of an easily ascertainable clarity on the matter is largely because it is somewhat common for people to fall into a grey area between being a “member” of the Tenrikyo faith and not being a “member,” despite having had or continuing to have interactions with the religion.

Official counts of Tenrikyo followers reflect not how many people view themselves as “members” of the religion but how many people are viewed by others as being “members”<fnref n="121" />. Such a count could be done in numerous ways and would produce different results, each with its own shortcomings. For example, the number of people who make monetary donations to Tenrikyo sites of worship under their name could be counted because giving money is generally a component of being a “member” of the religion. One problem with this mode of counting is that while in many families, all family members are Tenrikyo followers and collectively give donations on behalf of their entire family under their family name in which all immediate family members could also be inferentially counted as followers, this is not always the case. In some families, for example, only one spouse is involved with the Tenrikyo religion while the other is

<footnote n="121">¹²¹ This includes in locations, such as the US, where official statistics are taken through self-categorizing survey techniques such as the census because Tenrikyo is a minority religion that is usually lumped into other categories, such as “other,” or in Japan, the broader category of “new religion.”</footnote>
largely uninvolved. A slight variation to this are families in which both spouses and any children they may have come to Tenrikyo events, but only one spouse considers her/himself to be a member of the faith, often with their children being exposed to the religious backgrounds of both parents while growing up.

Another problem with this mode of counting is that not all people who view themselves as Tenrikyo followers necessarily make named donations to their sites of worship, and similarly, not all people who make monetary donations to the site of worship with which they are associated view themselves as “members” of the religion. An example of this latter situation that was included in my research population was a French woman I both got to know informally and interviewed who was regularly present at a lineage-based site of worship with which she had been involved for a number of years. She was an active member of the “community” affiliated with this site and to a lesser degree, was sometimes present at TEC events despite living several hundred kilometers from the center. She made monetary donations to the lineage-based site with which she was affiliated and even became a Yoboku registered under it and its connected lineage, later incorporating the healing gift of the Sazuke she received through attaining this title into her work as a Reiki practitioner when she deemed it appropriate in relation to the person’s issue that she was trying to help alleviate.

Given her high level of involvement in the faith, I was surprised during our interview to learn that she considered herself to be exclusively Catholic. She explained to me that this was because she was baptized as Catholic when she was young and raised in this religion, thereby rendering it her religion. This woman’s self-understanding of her religious identity in combination with her involvement with Tenrikyo exemplifies the complexity of the question of precisely who is and is not a “member” in the context of my European-based research population. This complexity was also present, in my limited observations, in Japan in which neither making monetary donations nor two other factors I discuss immediately hereafter as potential determinants accurately denote her religion as Tenrikyo from her own perspective.

In relation to this French woman’s explanation that she is Catholic (and therefore not Tenrikyo), it is interesting to mention, as highlighted by Josephson (2012: 17), that an imported concept from Christianity often attached to “religions” is that they are mutually incompatible and it is not
possible for a person to be a “member” of multiple religions at the same time. In Japan, this is not the case. It is highly common for Japanese people to regard themselves as simultaneously Shinto, Buddhist, and non-religious. Similarly, being a Tenrikyo follower does not necessarily negate, from a Tenrikyo perspective, the possibility of being a “member,” or practitioner, of other religious traditions, though in my observations, Tenrikyo followers most commonly held Tenrikyo as their sole religion. Furthermore, generally “belief” is not positioned as a prerequisite for religious membership in Japan. This helps contextualize that in my observations, “belief” was not regarded as necessary to be regarded as a Tenrikyo follower. Rather, “being Tenrikyo” was associated primarily with what one *does* rather than what one *believes*.

Coming back to the issue of obtaining a count of Tenrikyo followers, another potential, though also not fully depictive, method to calculate the number of “members” would be to count the number of people who are commonly present for Monthly Services held at each Tenrikyo site of worship in a specific location, such as France or more broadly, Europe, for a localized count or throughout the world for a global count. The obvious problem with such a method is that, as demonstrated through the friend of Mr. Takeshita mentioned slightly previously and also the French woman who identified solely as Catholic, not everyone who attended Monthly Services or otherwise came to Tenrikyo sites of worship viewed themselves as “members” of the religion. Conversely, for various reasons, not all Tenrikyo followers regularly go to Tenrikyo sites of worship. Yet another potential way to count followers would be to count those who have become Yoboku, as this designation is a definite and registered category. The most obvious problems with such a method are that not all Tenrikyo followers have undergone the rites through which to become Yoboku, not all people who have undergone these rites continue to follow the Tenrikyo faith, and some people who become Yoboku never viewed themselves as “members” of the religion in the first place.

*The presence of Tenrikyo followers in Europe*

Complexities regarding where a person falls on the spectrum between being a “member” of the religion and not being a “member” of it, despite having a connection to the faith and/or its followers were quite common and comprehensible on a small scale when familiar with the specific people involved. Through spending time at a particular location, such as TEC, over a
significant period of time and getting to know the majority of people who were part of its multilayered “community,” one can approximately understand the quantity of people involved and where they fall in the gradation between being not at all involved in the markedly religious aspects of Tenrikyo despite involvement in the broader “TEC community” and being devout and highly dedicated members of the faith. For my thesis, though, in addition to discussing my observations from an up-close perspective, it is nearly obligatory to give at least some concrete information concerning the number of Tenrikyo followers in Europe and in France, even if any method of obtaining such numbers is only partially depictive of reality.

To do this, I refer to a 2019 list of Yoboku documented to be living in Europe, published by Tenrikyo Church Headquarters<fnref n="122" />. I would like to reiterate, however, that not all people living in Europe who were documented to have undergone the rite to acquire this distinction came to TEC or were actively involved with the Tenrikyo faith at the time of my research and conversely, not all people who came to TEC and/or were involved with the Tenrikyo faith were classified as Yoboku. Nonetheless, reference to the number of Yoboku in Europe does provide a basic overview of the extent of Tenrikyo's presence on this continent. According to this 2019 publication, there were 231 Yoboku registered to be living in France and 503 Yoboku living in Europe.

<footnote n="122">¹²² Dai hachijyuu hachi kai Tenrikyou toukei nenkan第88回 天理教統計年鑑</footnote>
# SECTION II: THE LOCAL SIDE OF THE MULTI-LAYERED TEC COMMUNITY

## *Section introduction*

Now that I have laid the groundwork of providing a foundational background of my research context, in this second section, I am going to take the reader into the local side of the “TEC community” that I learned about through my own observations. In this section, in chapter three, I will discuss the laique cultural center and language school in central Paris aimed at creating a bridge between the locally living Paris population and the Tenrikyo faith, largely via TEC. In chapter four, I shift my focus to the residential side of TEC where young adult missionaries sent from the Tenrikyo organization in Japan to Paris for several year assignments of working at the aforementioned laique cultural center live, along with other center residents I discuss in this chapter. Then, in chapter five, my exploration expands from the more private side of everyday residential life at TEC to its more public, regularly occurring ritual gathering of the Monthly Service.

Although these chapters are each distinct in their focus, all three involved primarily people living in the Paris region and thus show three different sides of the multi-layered social world of the “TEC community” based in the same geographic region as TEC. By according my focus to these three “spheres” via these three chapters grouped together in this overarching section, I wish to show how they came together to create a greater place-specific layer of the “TEC community” based in the Paris area which then contributed to a broader social whole that also included other locations. Through grouping these chapters together in an overarching section, I wish to show that this “community” was partially place-specific to the Paris region, but at the same time, spanned far beyond any overarching summary or singular place-based descriptors.
# Chapter three: Association Culturelle Franco-Japonaise de TENRI: A “laique” cultural center and language school in central Paris that served as the door through which I came to TEC

## a. ACFJT as a potential point of entry into the religion

### How I came to know Tenrikyo and TEC via ACFJT: using my own experience as a case study

A question often asked by people throughout my research was why or how I decided to focus my research on the Japanese new religion of Tenrikyo. This inquiry was often accompanied with the understandable assumption that religion was already in the forefront of my research interests when I decided to focus my thesis on its present topic. It was not. In this chapter, I will explain how I found myself, without prior intention, focusing my thesis on the eclectic and multi-layered composition of social actors connected in various ways to TEC who I refer to collectively as the “TEC community.”

My purpose in including my own story of how I became acquainted with TEC and the religion of Tenrikyo and how my research became focused on them is not simply to offer an autobiographical exposé or to depict myself as an “anthropological hero,” both of which Olivier de Sardan (2008) rightly cautions against. Rather, I wish to use my own experience as a case study in its own right, which Olivier de Sardan poses as a more appropriate reason to discuss one’s own personal experience during fieldwork when one’s own story is similar to others included in the group of study. In my case, although my own introduction to Tenrikyo, TEC, and other Tenrikyo sites was not identical to anyone else’s included in the eclectic “community” upon which my research was focused, my own story holds numerous features that were shared with others who came to be part of this group and included in the social world of TEC at an adult age<fnref n="123" />.

Similar to numerous others who I discuss later in this text, my initial exposure to Tenrikyo and TEC was through studying Japanese at its affiliated, categorically “laique” cultural association:

<footnote n="123">¹²³ I say “social world” of Tenrikyo because not all people I am referencing came to be followers of the religion despite becoming part of the “social world” linked to TEC.</footnote>
Association Culturelle Franco-Japonaise de TENRI<fnref n="124" /> (ACFJT), located in central Paris. I began studying there a little over a year and a half before my thesis topic shifted to its present focus in linguistic preparation for my initial intended project focused on Japanese restaurants in Paris<fnref n="125" />. Later, before my research eventually evolved into its present subject, I directed my fieldwork investigations towards the topic of Japanese migrants who came to Paris independently or semi-independently<fnref n="126" />, which then led to my research becoming focused on its present topic<fnref n="127" />. This chapter is largely a discussion of the contextual journey through which my research came to be focused on the “TEC community.”

ACFJT is one of the multiple sites connected to TEC from which members of what I refer to as the wider “TEC community” came to be a part of the interconnected social group. Thus, by including my own story of how I got to know TEC and Tenrikyo, I am depicting one of multiple avenues through which people came to be part of this social collectivity. It should be noted, though, that the vast majority of people who became part of this social world firstly through ACFJT and later participated in TEC activities did not become followers of the religion despite their association with it. Often such people were involved with varying degrees of regularity in TEC activities (most commonly activities not markedly religious in nature) and maintained long-term relationships with core members of the TEC community who were active followers of the religion. Thus, they were rendered members of the greater “TEC community” focused at and connected to TEC, regardless of their lack of religious affiliation with this faith. This is but one of multiple examples of the haziness of boundaries between who can/should be included in this “community” and who can /should not be that is present throughout my thesis. In my

<footnote n="124">¹²⁴ Tenri Nichi-Futsu Bunka Kyōkai (天理日仏文化協会) or Tenri Franco-Japanese Cultural Association</footnote>

<footnote n="125">125 More specifically, Japanese restaurants in Paris where the majority of workers were Japanese, as the majority of “Japanese” restaurants in Paris, similar to many other locations outside of Japan, are operated by non-Japanese people.</footnote>

<footnote n="126">126 By referring to the group of migrants I intended to study as having come to Paris “independently or semi-independently,” I wish to differentiate my then-intended group of study from Japanese expatriates sent to Paris by their employers (most often companies) in Japan for which there is a much higher level of support than for people who come on their own.</footnote>

<footnote n="127">127 I was a language student at ACFJT for almost two years prior to changing my thesis topic to a Tenrikyo-related topic and almost one year thereafter.</footnote>
observations, there was no marked frontier between “insiders” and “outsiders,” but rather gradations and multiple layers of who was included in this multifarious social world.

As I will expand upon later in this chapter, my own experience of being introduced to Tenrikyo was in accordance with the general model of forming relationships between non-followers and Tenrikyo staff working at the center through which the religion can be introduced outside the walls of the “laique” cultural center. I first became aware of ACFJT’s religious affiliation through a language exchange, that I further discuss slightly later in this text, with a young Japanese woman in her late twenties named Kanae who was a visiting missionary teacher at the school. She was about six months into a two-year assignment in France from Japan when I met her, during which time, similar to other such young adult visiting missionary teachers, she lived at TEC and was highly involved in its social world.

Though the length of stay of such visiting staff members varied, Kanae's two-year stay at TEC was approximately standard for such individuals, thereby most often positioning these staff members as somewhat short-term core members of the TEC community during their time there who subsequently remained connected to its social world. Most such visiting young adult missionaries, though not all, returned to Japan after their period of residential service at TEC ended, after which they commonly remained linked to the social world they were previously immersed in. This occurred both via distance and, for many, also when they saw members of this community again in person. Such reunions most often took place in the pilgrimage town of Tenri City, as was true in my own case when I went there about three and a half years after first meeting Kanae at which time I saw her again, as I further discuss in chapter ten.

While the particularity of learning of the religion firstly through a language exchange was not specifically a common point of introduction to the faith, the broader frame of being introduced to it through a personal relationship with a Tenrikyo staff member of ACFJT in a setting outside of the laique center where discussion of the religion was generally avoided was a common way people were introduced to the faith. Furthermore, as explained by Kato (2016, 2017a), it was one of the main reasons for the existence of ACFJT. I did not know of this foundational motivation when I chose to study there.
When I began taking classes at ACFJT in October 2013, I was in the somewhat frustrating situation of being much less competent in the Japanese language than I was previously some time before. I had studied the language during high school, one year of which I lived in Japan as an exchange student<sup>128</sup>, and had also studied the language as the minor subject of my undergraduate degree, which I completed approximately nine years prior to beginning my doctoral studies. Initially, after completion of my undergraduate degree, I sometimes spent time with Japanese people, often during travels, and thus on occasion continued to actively use the language. As time went on, though, I generally ceased to be in contexts which called for use of this language and thus lost my previously acquired ease with it. When I began my doctoral studies, due to a lack of use, I found myself unable to communicate proficiently in Japanese and largely decided to take language classes in preparation for my intended fieldwork to remedy this hindrance.

My choice of ACFJT as my language school was influenced by multiple factors. I initially came to know of ACFJT the previous summer, at which time I had been living in France for a year and a half after moving there from my home state of Alaska. At that point, I was contemplating what topic on which to focus my doctoral research. Although I wanted to conduct my research in Paris, I was unsure of what population nor what precise subject I wished to investigate.

One sunny summer afternoon while strolling around central Paris near the Chatelet area, I wandered onto a narrow street I had never been before and came across a signboard in front of what appeared to be some sort of art or cultural center advertising a series of *Buto*<sup>129</sup> dance performances being held there that week. The signboard caught my interest as a potential lead to finding a research topic with which I could start my doctoral studies and thus decided to go inside to learn more. At the center's reception desk, I met a warm, middle-aged Japanese woman who I later often saw working there and who I learned much later to not be a follower of the Tenrikyo religion herself: a religion which at that point I did not even know existed. I spoke with her first about the Buto performances advertised on the signboard, then about the center itself, including

<footnote n="128"><sup>128</sup> My year spent in Japan was in the small farming and fishing town of Saroma, located in the northeastern part of the northern island of Hokkaido.</footnote>

<footnote n="129"><sup>129</sup> Buto is a dance form that arose in Japan in 1959 during the country's post WWII period. It is a dance form characterized by performers in white body makeup with hyper-controlled motion exploring and depicting taboo and grotesque imagery, often centered on death, amongst other topics. Please note that this is an over-generalized summary of the artform which some practitioners may not entirely agree with.</footnote>
the language classes they provided. ACFJT struck me as an interesting place and furthermore, I appreciated the kind demeanor the woman there had when she took time to speak with me. Though I did not decide immediately to study there nor to otherwise spend more time at the center, this initial impression was memorable.

Several months later, when I decided to study the Japanese language to refresh and improve my competency in it, it was the positive feeling I had during my initial visit to ACFJT in combination with their relatively affordable prices that led me to choose them as where I would enroll. Such reasoning was not unique to my own case. Amongst other reasons I heard from fellow students at ACFJT for why they chose to study there, as well as on internet forums which discussed Japanese language schools in Paris, the positive atmosphere of ACFJT which encourages people to enjoy coming there, along with the high quality of instruction offered and relatively affordable prices, were similarly often cited as key reasons to study there.

*Fostering relationships via a “laique” cultural center to encourage religious exposure*

Before progressing further in the story of how my research came to be focused on the multi-sited “TEC community” that I came to know via ACFJT, I would like to first discuss this cultural center concretely. As explained by Kato (2016, 2017a) and Mr. Sugimoto, who was my Japanese teacher at ACFJT and later became my key research contact (personal communication, July 2016), amongst others who indicated the same, ACFJT was meant to serve as a means through which to introduce and connect local individuals with the Tenrikyo religion. The principal means of meeting this goal was positioned as being through creating relationships between Tenrikyo followers working there and non-followers attending it. Through fostering such relationships, the former could expose the latter to the faith during interactions that took place outside of this secular center, where the religion was generally not discussed due to its categorical status as a “laique” cultural center. More specifically, it was categorized as a “Free establishment of higher education” according to the French Ministry of Education (rectorate of the l’Académie de Paris)<fnref n="130" />. ACFJT was also “recognized by the French ministry of work, employment, and

<footnote n="130">¹³⁰ Etablissement d'Enseignement Supérieur Libre déclaré auprès du Ministère Français de l'Éducation (Rectorat de l'Académie de Paris</footnote>
professional training”<fnref n="131" /> (Association Culturelle Franco-Japonaise de TENRI: 2009) under the
category of being a “laique” (non-religious) association: a term which in France usually means a
strict secularism and lack of religiosity.

The underlying missionary aim of this cultural center, though, was included in it since its
beginning. ACFJT was founded principally as a means through which to introduce the local
population<fnref n="132" /> to the Tenrikyo faith in 1971, one year after the religious center in Antony<fnref n="133" /> was
founded. To further describe the underlying structure and purpose of this cultural center, I cite a
description given by Kato (2016) in which he references both internal TEC publications and also
interviews he conducted with key TEC informants.

The key characteristic as it operates in France is its two-tier yet legally separate
institutional structure that involves a religious association (*association cultuelle*), on the
one hand, and a ‘cultural association’ (*association culturelle*), on the other… Tenrikyō
has been promoting cultural activities at and through the cultural association as a way to
increase its visibility and legitimacy in the public. (p.2)

The establishment of the cultural association in addition to the religious centre has been
considered as part of the institutional efforts to increase the visibility and legitimacy of the
religious tradition in French society. The Japanese language school, for example, is
expected to allow Tenrikyō followers working there to establish ‘a long-term human
relationship’ with the students (Tenrikyō Yōroppa Shucchōsho 1992: 111). In their view,
this enables them to promote the teachings of Tenrikyō on an individual basis outside the
classroom or the school, thus avoiding the violation of the legal regulation prohibiting a
formal activity of proselytization in a non-religious association (Kamata 2013; Interview
with Kamata, 11 November 2014; Tenrikyō Yōroppa Shucchōsho 1992: 111-112, cf.
Koizumi 2005). (p.4)

<footnote n="131">¹³¹ déclarée auprès du Ministère Français du Travail de l'Emploi et de la Formation professionnelle.</footnote>

<footnote n="132">¹³² In my thesis, I use the term “local population” to refer to people living in the Paris area rather than “French.” This is because the population of Paris (and the surrounding area) includes many people from elsewhere, thereby rendering it inaccurate to refer to the residential population of the area through a descriptor of a single nationality.</footnote>

<footnote n="133">¹³³ In founding the cultural association and relatedly choosing Japanese language instruction as its key activity, the delegates from Tenrikyo who helped found the center received guidance from Suzuki Atsuya who was an official charged with cultural activities at the Japanese Embassy in France who had a close connection with the acting head of Tenrikyo (Shozen Nakayama, the second Shinbashira. (Kamata 2013 [Cited in Kato 2016], personal communication with Takahashi Sugimoto, present assistant-director of assistant director and key informant: July 2016).</footnote>
This model was also explicitly explained to me by my Japanese teacher and spiritual parent, Mr. Sugimoto, when I asked why the cultural center was founded and exists if despite being affiliated with the Tenrikyo religion, which is highly evangelical in nature, its religious connection was absent from the center. His openness to me about this, when he was aware that I was conducting research, suggested that this underlying aim was viewed as an acceptable operational model rather than something potentially questionable due to its less than upfront nature.

Kato (2016: 4) further explains through citing a publication from the Tenrikyo Overseas Department (Tenrikyō Kaigai Fukyō Dendobu 1995:13) that there is an understanding in the Tenrikyo organization that “the cultural association in France serves as a ‘billboard’ for the religious tradition by disseminating positive images of Tenrikyō or the associated name ‘Tenri’.” To further illustrate this point, he additionally cites two interviews he conducted in 2015 with Japanese followers who had engaged in religious propagation in France. They also explained that the cultural association’s activities play a role in increasing the religion’s legitimacy in France. I agree that ACFJT does to a certain extent function as a means through which the name “Tenri” is disseminated into a segment of the local population and also, albeit to a lesser extent, facilitates awareness of the Tenrikyo religion for some of these people. The extent to which this technique will bring in new followers of the faith, though, at least in any sizable numbers, remained unclear. At the time of my research, approximately forty-five years after ACFJT was founded, the number of Tenrikyo followers who came to be as such through exposure to the religion via ACFJT was minimal, if not non-existent. Similarly, individuals who were extensively involved in the religious side of TEC and the Tenrikyo faith despite not being “members” of the faith who initially came to know of TEC and Tenrikyo via ACFJT also remained quite low.

The internal interpretations of ACFJT’s position in relation to the broader goals of the religion, though, were varied. The low number of people from ACFJT who had become Tenrikyo followers was expressed by some to be a sign that the cultural center was not meeting its goal. Alternatively, another perspective I was exposed to during my research was that obtaining the immediate result of drawing in high numbers of people who quickly and decidedly became members of the religion was not the goal of the cultural center and thus, they were not falling short of this goal by it not happening. Often when discussing ACFJT with core members of the TEC community, there was a non-polarized discussion of these two perspectives in which an
uncertainty was displayed regarding if ACFJT was meeting its goal of spreading Tenrikyo, exactly how so, to what extent, and over what span of time.

*ACFJT's use of “cultural activities” as a missionary conduit reflective of an internationally present strategy of spreading the faith*

ACFJT is not unique in its approach of including “cultural activities” in its overseas missionary efforts. Activities including martial arts (mainly judo), libraries, language lessons, and fine arts are used to promote the Tenrikyo overseas mission in various ways. (Tenrikyō Kaigai Fukyō Dendōbu 1995: 13 [cited in Kato 2017a: 68]). The reasons for organizing such cultural activities vary, depending on the region. Some are held to provide followers from Japan and their children with Japanese language lessons to assist in their apprenticeship of Tenrikyo teachings and to provide opportunities to experience Japanese culture. Cultural activities are also conducted as overseas missionary efforts to make connections with local people and communities, to assist in the possibility of gaining official recognition as a religious organization, to disseminate positive images of Tenrikyo or the name “Tenri” in the host society, and to meet the legal requirement to open a Tenrikyo site of worship (Kato 2017a). The reasons included in ACFJT’s existence and ongoing efforts include all of these reasons, except the latter.

The most popular of these cultural activities is language instruction, thus ACFJT’s emphasis on language instruction is aligned with this broader trend. It is conducted as a formal activity of the Tenrikyo cultural centers in New York, Singapore, and France, which are linked to varying degrees to each other, as they are to other Tenrikyo cultural centers, such as a smaller one in Germany. Japanese is also taught in Tenrikyo’s Japanese language school in Hong Kong (Tenrikyō Kaigai Fukyō Dendōbu 1995: 13, cf. Yamaoka 1997 [cited in Kato 2017a: 68]) and informal language lessons are provided in many other countries such as Brazil, the Philippines, and Thailand (Kato 2017a: 69).

Similar to other Tenrikyo cultural centers, ACFJT also hosted a variety of “cultural activities” in addition to their language classes. At ACFJT, a prominent component of these “cultural activities” were the theatrical and dance performances held in the evening that I frequently attended during the first two of the almost three years I studied Japanese there. These shows were generally sold out and were quite well-reputed within a certain subset of the local population, as
was their downstairs art gallery that showcased different exhibitions every several weeks. These artforms displayed no blatant signs of being hosted by a religious group. Rather, they were connected more generally to Japanese art and culture, or sometimes in the gallery, non-Japanese-specific components of the human experience. Similarly, the majority of showcased artists were not Tenrikyo followers. Though in a broader sense, because some of the central Tenrikyo teachings concern the importance of bringing joy to others and appreciating beauty in the world, it could be said that the art at ACFJT was connected to the Tenrikyo religion.

Based on the numerous comments I heard, ACFJT was closely linked to the cultural center in New York City, located in Greenwich Village (Tenri Cultural Institute). When young adult followers in Japan applied to the program which sent visiting missionary teachers to TEC, they were, in fact, applying to teach at the cultural centers in either Paris or New York, after which the organization decides to which of these two locations the selected candidates would be sent. Several visiting missionary teachers at ACFJT told me that they had actually hoped to go to New York when they applied to the program, largely because they had studied English. One individual had majored in English recently at university and another had previously studied abroad in another part of the US. Similarly, while in Tenri City, I met a woman while having lunch in the followers' dormitory where we were both housed who told me that her daughter had worked at the cultural center in New York as a visiting missionary teacher, though when she applied to the program, she hoped to go to ACFJT because she had studied French.

In the projective minds of the young adults when they applied to this program, these two transatlantic centers were linked, often with one preferred over the other. The connection between the two locations remains once they are assigned to a location and, after one year of training in Tenri City in preparation for their assignment, they are placed in one of these sites. Furthermore, and more importantly, there was collaboration and conversation between these two centers concerning various components of center organization, activities, ambiance, etc. Throughout my research, it was normal at TEC to hear reference to the cultural center in New York in which the "sister-site" nature between these two cultural centers was demonstrated.

As previously evoked, there was also a smaller Tenrikyo-affiliated cultural center in Germany, though due to the nature of this center which is discussed more in chapter six, its connection to
ACFJT was less pronounced, at least from the Parisian side from which my research was based. Reflective of a common trend in the broader Tenrikyo social matrix in which social actors and various spheres of the faith were associated through webs of connection, there was also a link between TEC and the cultural center in Singapore during my fieldwork. This connection was via a visiting young adult staff member of TEC who was in a long-distance relationship with a young Japanese woman<fnref n="134" /> serving a several year term as a visiting missionary teacher at the Singapore cultural center who he married upon his return to Japan from TEC. Overall though, beyond this interpersonal connection, the collaboration and connection between these Parisian and Singaporean-based sites appeared to be minimal.

*The purposeful absence of the Tenrikyo religion at the laique center of ACFJT*

As previously indicated, when I enrolled in classes at ACFJT, like most other non-Japanese people who came to this laique cultural center, I did not realize it was affiliated with a religious group. This lack of awareness was due to multiple factors. There were no obvious religious markers displayed at the center<fnref n="135" /> nor mentions of its religious connection in the multiple conversations I had with staff members when initially learning about ACFJT and signing up for their classes. I was completely unfamiliar with the name “Tenri,” as are even some Japanese people, and thus was not clued in by the center’s name of “Association Culturelle Franco-Japonaise de TENRI.” Relatedly, the framed certificate by the reception desk which showed ACFJT’s official connection to Tenri University led me to view the center’s language courses as pedagogically reliable due to their being affiliated with a larger educational institution in Japan, but did not alert me to its religious affiliation.

<footnote n="134">134 This woman later became his wife once, after serving approximately four years at TEC, it was decided it was time for him to return home, largely with the thought that it was time for him to marry this woman, who had returned to Japan, and settle into the next chapter of his life.</footnote>

<footnote n="135">135 On the wall to the right of the reception, there is a calligraphy scroll with the words “yōki gurashi” written artistically with Japanese characters. These words are translated into English in the Tenrikyo religion as “The Joyous Life” and are so central to and commonly used in Tenrikyo they could be described as the religion’s slogan. For a Japanese follower of the religion, the slogan would be an immediately recognizable religious reference. For a non-follower studying at the center, even if they could read the characters, the expression’s connection to the Tenrikyo religion, rather than being simply positive words, would not be evident unless a person is familiar with the religion.</footnote>
I was not the sole student to not realize ACFJT's religious affiliation. In fact, many of its students never realize this despite its underlying purpose being to spread the faith. In my own case, my teachers during the first few semesters I studied there were not followers of the faith. This was true for the majority of ACFJT teachers, with only about a third of the approximately thirty staff members being Tenrikyo followers. It would have made little difference if they had been, though, as the religion was purposefully not discussed at this laique center.

This lack of awareness is not unanimously held by all non-Tenrikyo people who come to the center. As I observed and as was explained to me by Mr. Sugimoto in an interview that led to my research becoming focused on its present topic (further discussed toward the end of this chapter), many of the Japanese people who come to ACFJT are aware of its religious affiliation due to its name, which clearly and purposefully contains the word “TENRI” in capital letters. Although not all Japanese people have heard of Tenrikyo, it is quite likely that the majority have, even if they are unfamiliar with much more than the religion’s name and perhaps some general information, such as it being a “new religion” based in Tenri City of Nara Prefecture, or, as I heard from Japanese people from time to time, that the baseball team of Tenri High School was quite good. Distinct from Japanese people, in response to my question of if he thought most French students who study at ACFJT are aware of its religious affiliation, Mr. Sugimoto casually told me that most probably do not. My own somewhat limited observations on the matter are in agreement with his assessment.

As previously noted, my own discovery of the cultural center's religious affiliation came about approximately in accordance with the missionary model of developing relationships between students and Tenrikyo staff members whereby they can share their faith when outside the laique cultural center. As I explained at the beginning of this chapter, several months after starting my classes there, I thought it could be helpful to seek out someone with whom to do an English-Japanese language exchange in order to have an opportunity to regain competency and familiarity with communicating in the language. I was optimistic that I would be able to find someone interested in such an exchange since Japanese people of my generation learned English as a mandatory school subject starting at age twelve<fnref n="136" />. I thus hung a hand-written message on the

<footnote n="136">¹³⁶ Since 2011, Japanese students have started studying English from grade five (age ten) rather than the first year of junior high school (age twelve).</footnote>
center’s bulletin board indicating my interest in finding someone with whom to do such an exchange. A little over a month later, I received a response via email from a woman named Kanae (who I mentioned previously) indicating her potential interest in my posted proposal. In her initial email, she only said that she was a teacher at ACFJT but did not include further details regarding her being at the school and in France on a several-year assignment as a missionary teacher. This absence of mentioning the religious and missionary aspects of her life was similar to how other such individuals routinely presented themselves and discussed their lives and the cultural center despite the religion’s, and connectedly their missionary status’, centrality in both.

This omission was prompted by multiple factors. One was ACFJT’s “laique” status within the context of France that associates the category with an absence of religion. Another contributing factor was not based on legal restraints or the potential existence thereof but due to a “culturally” based cautiousness to not operate in a way at ACFJT that could be negatively perceived by the local population as they were mindful that in France, religion was largely regarded as something best omitted from the public sphere. This French concept of “laicité,” that was a contributing factor to how the Tenrikyo religion functioned and was propagated in the country in which my research was based, is something I discuss further later in this chapter and in chapter six.

In the one-year training that prepared the young Japanese adults who came to France as ACFJT missionary teachers for their time abroad, they were instructed on the particular laique nature of France, on the laique nature of ACFJT, and that they should use caution in discussing their religion in France, particularly while at the cultural center. Thus, while at ACFJT, during which time they were in a hierarchically subservient role due to both their young age and their newness to the center, they were not positioned as being at liberty to make interpretive decisions that may be inappropriately outside of the norm, including their potential mention of the religion. Adding to this was that they were also relatively new to France and to navigating its culture and thus further erred on the side of caution in discussing their religion in contexts for which they were unsure how it would be received. Contrastingly, there was much less emphasis placed on the importance of discretion about the religion at the similar Tenrikyo cultural center in New York, which Mr. Sugimoto explained to me to be reflective of the two host countries’ different approaches to religious expression.
Despite the more open inclusion of its religious affiliation at the New York cultural center in comparison to the approach employed at ACFJT, discretion in discussing the religion was also present outside the markedly laique French landscape. In various other countries which hosted the religion, including Japan, the religion was not always discussed openly and freely by its followers, largely out of concern for how it would be perceived on the receiving end. This reticence in discussing the religion, though, sometimes raised suspicions about the group, rendering how forthcoming versus how reserved they should be in speaking about the faith and its role in various activities, groups, etc. a difficult question to navigate.

That some in Japan held a questionable view of Tenrikyo was first brought to my attention near the beginning of my research by a non-Tenrikyo Japanese friend who told me that Tenrikyo, similar to other Japanese new religions, was sometimes viewed dubiously by some Japanese people, including herself. When I inquired about why this was, she told me that, in combination with the commonly present suspicion directed toward Japanese new religions in general, one reason was that Tenrikyo groups sometimes did things in the broader society without openly declaring their religious affiliation, thereby causing people to wonder what they were up to and why they were not open about their affiliation. Thus, while there was already a sometimes-present tendency to not openly disclose their religion in the Japanese context from which these young missionaries were coming, in France, due to attempted adaptation to its laique context, this caution was intensified.

After my thesis research became directed toward its current point of focus, though as indicated previously, initially in a generalized and yet to be defined way, I was unsure how to approach potential mention of the Tenrikyo religion and ACFJT's connection to it while at the cultural center. During the initial year of my "focused fieldwork," I continued to attend language classes twice weekly and was present at the center for a variety of other reasons, such as use of its library and attendance of its art exhibitions and occasionally their monthly "pot amical" (friendly meet and greet event) at which I would speak informally with others, most of whom were not Tenrikyo followers and many were likely unaware of the cultural association's affiliation with the religion.

During this time, my life was focused on my anthropological fieldwork, thereby rendering mention of TEC and the Tenrikyo religion the most honest and natural response to general
questions people commonly posed as small talk. I was commonly asked, “What do you do?” or if
my being a student had been mentioned or assumed<fnref n="137" />, I was asked what I studied. My shying
away from disclosing my research was based on the general lack of mention or evidence of the
religion at the cultural center that was purposeful on the part of its Tenrikyo staff. I was
concerned that my open discussion of my research, which would necessitate mention of the
religion, could potentially pose a problem to the group I was studying and possibly to my position
as a welcomed researcher, which I generally was at that point.

About a half year after my research became focused on this topic, during which time I had been
attempting to navigate this situation appropriately without knowing exactly how to do so, I raised
the topic of my uncertainty to Mr. Sugimoto. He told me that although he does not usually speak
about the Tenrikyo religion to students at ACFJT, if someone shows interest and/or asks pointed
questions, then it is fine to talk about it, particularly when in more private, one-on-one contexts
rather than in class. Although he did not discuss the religion in his classes<fnref n="138" /> and was often
discreet about his involvement in the religion, such as in his responses to the question of what he
did over the weekend for which he omitted mention of religious activities that often occupied a
significant portion of them, he did not regard its mention as something that should categorically
never occur within the walls of the laique center.

Somewhat later in the library, an older French classmate asked me what it was that I did
professionally. After I explained that I was a doctoral student, and subsequently described the
general topic of my thesis research in response to his follow-up questions, he then took the
opportunity to pose questions about the Tenrikyo religion. I responded to his questions freely
since it had been indicated to me that in such situations, it would not be a problem to do so.
During our conversation, this French man told me that he had already asked questions about the
religion to another long-term high ranking staff member of the cultural center (who was also a
core member of the TEC community), but had been told that ACFJT was a cultural center and
thus, they discuss “cultural” things there. TEC was the religious center; if he wanted to learn

<footnote n="137">¹³⁷ As an American living in Paris of a somewhat young adult age during my fieldwork, it was rather common for people to ask me if I was studying in France.</footnote>

<footnote n="138">¹³⁸ I was his student for three semesters.</footnote>
more about the religion, he would have to go to TEC, located approximately 20 minutes outside of Paris by train, to do so. Whereas for Mr. Sugimoto, there was room for situationally based negotiation regarding the maintenance of ACFJT as a laque cultural center at which the religion was generally not discussed, for the latter, there was more adherence to an absolute maintenance of this strict divide. Furthermore, regarding the status of ACFJT as a laique center, I was later told by Mr. Sugimoto that there was deliberation regarding if the center should remain categorized as a laique center or if it should change its status to function as a religiously based language and cultural center, thereby rendering the open presence of the religion possible.

Regarding the absence of talk or displays of the Tenrikyo religion at ACFJT, there was discussion, differing opinions, and as indicated though the aforementioned example, subtly different approaches amongst key ACFJT staff members, as well as amongst some long-term core members of the TEC community who did not work there, regarding how much the religion of Tenrikyo should be openly discussed and manifested at the cultural center. These differing views were reflective of a combination of their individual perspectives, personalities, the Tenrikyo traditions and contexts of which they had been a part and the information and situations to which they had been exposed. The general caution present at the cultural center was also reflective of there having been a less solid divide between “cultural” and “religious” activities previously that produced undesired results.

In some earlier efforts to spread the religion via this cultural center, practices and activities closely related to the religion, or even directly religious, were organized, though in these instances, the teachings and practices related to Tenrikyo were represented as “Japanese culture” rather than being those of this religious tradition (Kato 2017a: 119). For example, from 1980 until 1987, TEC organized a pilgrimage tour to Tenri City. The primary purpose of this tour was for Tenrikyo-related activities such as attending the Besseki lectures, the Monthly Service in the religion’s Main Sanctuary, and public lectures on the religion. Their tour also included non-religious Japanese cultural activities (including tea ceremony, flower arrangement, calligraphy, judo, a Japanese language workshop, as well as visits to other places such as Kyoto<fnref n="139" /> for

<footnote n="139">¹³⁹ Kyoto is approximately 60 km from Tenri City by car.</footnote>
sightseeing). In TEC newsletters, as well as in the quarterly magazine, *Le Japon*<fnref n="140" />, this tour was advertised and framed more as a tour to Japan than as a religious pilgrimage to the Jiba. Kato (2017a: 120) highlights in particular the advertisement's use of a photo of the religion's Main Sanctuary in Tenri City as a representation of Japan.

Kato (2017a: 148) explains that a former president of the cultural association related that while some of its students attended the pilgrimage tour (Kato interview with Chikayosho Kamata, Nov. 11, 2014 [cited in Kato 2017a: 148]), a Tenrikyo Church Headquarters staff member who hosted the tour group noted that some of the participants became cautious when they discovered that the building they visited as part of the cultural tour was, in fact, a religious place (interview with Norihito Takahashi, April 23, 2015 [cited in Kato 2017a: 148]). Kato further explains that this pilgrimage tour was discontinued after 1987 because of the conflicting expectations between the former and latter parties in which many of the tour participants were not interested in attending the religious activities that Church Headquarters staff expected them to attend, thereby becoming members<fnref n="141" />. ACFJT resumed the pilgrimage tours in 1992 with four different groups: three of which were conducted by Tenrikyo Church Headquarters, with the other organized by the cultural center as a trip to Tenri City for intensive Japanese language classes (Tenrikyō Yōroppa Shucchōsho 1992 [cited in Kato 2017a: 148]).

In the 1990s, a time at which there was a general concern directed toward groups suspected or deemed to be cults or cult-like, ACFJT was portrayed as a “cult” group in a local newspaper. In January 1996, the month in which Gest and Guyard’s now well-known report to the French National Assembly on “cults” in France was made public, an association of residents in the arrondissement in which ACFJT was located at the time, known as the “l’Equip Page” published an article in its local newspaper titled, “God exists, he practices judo in Denfort<fnref n="142" />.” In the article,

<footnote n="140">¹⁴⁰ “Le Japon” was published by ACFJT from 1979 to 1983. It discussed Japanese culture and current events and was sold in locations such as bookstores, Japanese restaurants and kiosks, and sold at least 2,500 copies each time.</footnote>

<footnote n="141">¹⁴¹ Though not explicitly stated by Kato 2017a, one can infer that the main religious activity was the nine Besseki lectures required to become a Yoboku, which is often unofficially regarded as the rite through which one becomes a full “member” of the religion, despite this not actively being in accordance with Tenrikyo’s official explanation of what it is to be a Yoboku.</footnote>

<footnote n="142">¹⁴² *Dieu existe, il fait du judo à Denfert.*</footnote>
they label the Tenrikyo cultural association as “Cult Tenri” and assert that people fell victim to
the “cult” through activities conducted at the cultural association. In reference to their Japanese
language classes, the article states, “Proselytization is almost non-existent. So, you will think this
philanthropic association in our 14th arrondissement is fabulous!... It is through a very subtle,
indirect manner with no repressive belief- just like sliding bare feet on a tatami mat rather than
[walking with] big boots- that the missionaries of Oyagami<fnref n="143" /> spread the doctrine.” (Bézenet
1996: 4 [cited in Kato 2017a]).

Kato (2017a) states in reference to this that it is suggestive to see how Tenrikyo's non-religious
strategy of attracting people interested in Japan ironically served as a double-edged sword in light
of the general suspicion toward cult phenomenon. In response to this article, the heads of TEC
and ACFJT posted a response in the June issue of the newsletter (Miyamoto and Iwakiri 1996: 6,
shown hereafter) in which they used various kinds of counter-discourse against the delegitimizing
discourses of the original article to, in turn, legitimate Tenrikyo as a genuine religion. In their
response, they first expressed disappointment about the article's portrayal of the cultural
association, then emphasized that Tenrikyo was not included in the list of cults in the National
Assembly's report on the subject "for the simple reason that it is not one." They then stated how
Tenrikyo has combatted so-called cult groups in Japan and has sought to contribute to the
surrounding community through social engagement activities such as the charity rummage sale
that TEC hosts. They also cite the religion's collaboration with the Catholic Church as proof of it
being a legitimate religious group, specifically through their annual participation in the
International Meeting of Prayer for Peace, which began in 1985 as a Vatican initiative (Kato
2017a: 150-151). Kato (2017a: 153) furthermore notes that there used to be pamphlets on the
religion in the lobby of ACFJT, but that they were removed after students complained about their
presence.

<footnote n="143">¹⁴³ “Oyagami” is the Japanese term of reference that is translated into English as “God the Parent.”</footnote>
L'Association culturelle franco-japonaise de Tenri a tenu à répondre à l'article paru dans « La Page » n°28.

UN JOURNAL, par définition, sert à informer le plus objectivement possible sur la base de données solides. Or, en présentant notre Association culturelle franco-japonaise (ACFJ) de Tenri, située dans le 14e, comme une « secte », censée faire des « victimes » sous le couvert d'activités culturelles et artistiques, vous utilisez des mots très graves (comme autant de brûlots dans le contexte actuel des affaires de sectes, du type Temple solaire) qui portent atteinte à notre réalité et à notre réputation.

Or, sachez-le, Tenrikyô (l'antenne culturelle de Tenri, située à Antony), dans le rapport présenté par l'Assemblée nationale sur les sectes, ne figure pas au nombre des sectes japonaises, pour la simple raison qu'elle n'en est pas une ! Tenrikyô est une « religion » qui, au Japon, jouit d'une grande confiance et, qui plus est, s'est attaquée très tôt aux problèmes des sectes en venant en aide à ceux qui, justement, en étaient victimes ! Sur ce sujet, vous avez reçu le témoignage en notre faveur, d'une part, du président de la Fédération européenne des centres de recherche et d'information sur le sectarisme, d'autre part, du président — un Français vivant au Japon — du Mind Control Research Center, situé à Sapporo. En France, maintenant, que ce soit à l'occasion de la vente de charité annuelle à notre centre de la mission en Europe (Antony) ou à l'occasion d'actions culturelles bénévoles organisées par l'ACFJ à Paris, les bénéfices sont intégralement versés au profit de groupes ou peuples en souffrance.

Chaque année également, des envoyés de Tenrikyô participent à la Journée mondiale de prière pour la paix, qui la première fois en 1985 avait été organisée par le Vatican, ce qui montre bien que la confiance de l'Eglise catholique nous est acquise en tant que religion établie parmi d'autres religions établies.

Si, sous couvert d'une « association culturelle », nous voulions agir comme une « secte », croyez-vous que, publiquement, nous

« afficherions » notre nom « Tenri » « Tenrikyô » ? Justement, nous n'avons rien à cacher. Que ce soit à l'association ou au centre de la mission à Antony, à l'entrée, à la portée et à la disposition de tout le monde se trouvent des documents, des brochures concernant ce que nous sommes, ce que nous faisons.

Vous reconnaissez vous-même qu'à l'association il n'y a « pour ainsi dire pas de prosélytisme ». En effet, dès le début, en 1971, quand l'association fut fondée à Paris par Tenrikyô et le cours de japonais établi — un fait sans précédent puisque même le gouvernement japonais n'avait pas créé d'organisation de ce genre —, notre motivation a été de faire découvrir aux Français une langue et une civilisation à l'époque encore bien peu connues !

Dans son optique d'épanouissement global des êtres, Tenri excelle à utiliser l'énergie des corps dans les sports — notamment le judo. On ne compte plus les équipes françaises nationales de judo venues s'entraîner à Tenri.

Certes, que l'auteur de l'article ait ironisé sur notre doctrine, nous pouvons l'admette car, en démocratie, la moquerie sur les convictions que l'on ne partage pas, la satire sur les usages que l'on ne pratique pas font partie du jeu. Par contre, il n'est pas admissible de faire preuve de malhonnêteté intellectuelle en distordant systématiquement des faits sous le couvert d'une documentation sérieuse.

Par exemple, s'il est vrai que, de Paris, nous organisons chaque année des stages linguistiques à Tenri, et qu'à cette occasion nos stadiaires visitent le sanctuaire et participent éventuellement à un Service, en quoi de ce simple fait peut-on se donner le droit d'en inférer un endoctrinement ? A ce compte-là, une simple visite à Notre-Dame-de-Paris ou à quelqu'autre lieu saint grandiose vaudrait pour une conversion ! C'est ridicule. Et d'où vous vient la fable encore plus grave que les enfants seraient pour nous de « bonnes proies » ?

Allons, revenez à la raison, ne vous livrez plus à des amalgames de mauvais aloi. Vos lecteurs sauront bien nous trouver d'ailleurs s'ils ont encore le moindre doute.

**Noriaki Nagao, chef du centre Tenrikyô en Europe, Kôichi Iwakiri, président de l'ACFJ, et l'équipe des professeurs du cours de japonais de Tenri**
In accordance with Kato's discussion of the undesirable suspicion regarding ACFJT's affiliation with the Tenrikyo religion which has taken different forms over time, before my research even became focused on its present topic, I was occasionally exposed to suspicions amongst members of the local population of Paris concerning ACFJT's religious connection. The first time I observed this was from a French gentleman in his sixties or seventies who regularly hosted Japanese-French language exchanges that I attended during the early part of my "fieldwork"<fnref n="144" />, before my research became focused on TEC and Tenrikyo. In talking with this man, who had spent a good amount of his childhood in New York City and often spoke with me in fluent English notably marked by a New York accent, I told him that I was studying Japanese at ACFJT. He looked at me, paused, and said, "You know, it's a cult."

I was aware of its religious connection after having learned about it from Kanae when we were not at ACFJT, which I discuss in more detail in the next subsection, and was not at all worried about the potential dangers of such a possibility. I brushed off this warning statement with a light-hearted comment that expressed my lack of concern on the matter. He accepted my response, adding that it made sense I would be interested in such things as an anthropologist. Later, when I perused the internet to see what had been written about Tenrikyo and ACFJT in French, I found occasional warnings written on comment boards and other similar forums about ACFJT being run by a "cult" (French: *secte*)<fnref n="145" />. Such sentiments that I observed on both the internet and through in-person interactions, though, represented only a small percentage of the comments that I was exposed to about ACFJT in total. In general, as indicated previously, online discourse that I observed about ACFJT was usually focused on the quality of the center and their language classes, etc.

Even if one is aware of but not interested in the religion with which it is affiliated, one can be as involved as one wishes in the various activities organized at ACFJT without ever hearing religious proselytization. It is when people come to activities held elsewhere, chiefly TEC, that

<footnote n="144">¹⁴⁴ I attended this language exchange group, along with two others, to have more contact with and learn more about Japanese migrants in addition to the more obvious goal of practicing the language. I began attending these groups after I had already established a language exchange with Kanae.</footnote>

<footnote n="145">¹⁴⁵ As I note in chapter four, Tenrikyo was not included in the well-known list, "*La commision parlementaire n° 2468*," published by the French government in 1995 which listed 173 "*movements jugés sectaires*" (movements judged to be "cult-like").</footnote>
there is a chance they will receive encouragement in various forms to become followers of the path or at least subtle invitations to learn more about it should they so desire. Generally, such efforts are somewhat indirect and often in a model of creating invitations and opportunities through which people can learn more about and embrace the religion rather than through overtly direct proselytization. While their visible missionary efforts may appear to be casual and discreet, bringing new followers into the faith is a main goal of both TEC and ACFJT and also of the Tenrikyo religion itself. To demonstrate this, I will continue with the story of how I learned of the Tenrikyo religion and over time became increasingly familiar with the religious center of TEC and its connected social world.

*Initial exposure to the Tenrikyo faith through a personal relationship begun at ACFJT*

In accordance with the general policy of not discussing the religion at ACFJT, thereby maintaining its laicity, when I first met Kanae at ACFJT as previously explained, there was no mention of the religion that was centrally important both to the center at which she worked and also to her broader life at that time. Instead, we discussed various other things and got to know each other. I learned that she had lived in the US for a year after high school to develop her English abilities and was interested in doing an exchange so as to not lose her English while in France: a common concern for people from non-francophone countries who had studied the English language before coming to France.

The next time Kanae and I met, we went for falafels at a nearby eatery about twenty minutes away after first meeting at ACFJT when she finished her workday at 8:00 pm. While walking through central Paris on our way there, I told her that I was quite happy with the school and that despite its relatively inexpensive class prices, I found the quality of instruction and the center in general to be quite good. She seemed pleased to hear this, expressing her positive sentiment through the socially prescribed manner of receiving praise reflective of the importance placed on modesty in both Japanese and Tenrikyo cultures, by listening to what I said while slightly changing her facial expression and the position of her head in a manner that discretely communicated satisfied pleasure in hearing such words of praise. She then told me that this is what they try to do: even if they do not receive much money, they try to do a good job from the
heart<fnref n="146" />. This was before I learned of the chiefly important Tenrikyo concept of hinokishin<fnref n="147" />, which is how teaching at ACFJT is largely viewed by the visiting young adult missionary teachers who come from Japan to work there for several years. I only sometime later realized that she was referencing this key component of the religion indirectly in this statement.

Over falafels, I learned through expressing interest that ACFJT is affiliated with the “Tenrikyo” religion of which my new friend Kanae and her family were followers. I also learned that she had attended Tenri University in a town called Tenri City. She did not tell me much more about the religion which, until this point, I had never heard of, but mentioned casually that I could look it up online if I was interested in learning more<fnref n="148" />. This casual conversation piqued my interest and as she suggested, I looked up the Tenrikyo religion online. This served as my initial exposure to learning about its doctrinal components. It is noteworthy that her mention of the religion to me when we were spending time together in an amical context outside of the laique cultural center was in accordance with the underlying purpose of ACFJT’s founding and ongoing existence: providing a context through which followers charged with missionary work can build relationships with members of the local population and thus potentially share the religion through friendly contexts outside the center.

Later in the evening, I was unexpectedly exposed to a faith and ritually based component of the religion through an intense moment of prayer, though I did not understand very well at the time precisely what I was witnessing. After a nice getting to know each other chat in a purposeful mix of English and Japanese over falafels, it was time to walk back to where we met several hours earlier to take public transportation in opposite directions and return to our respective suburbs. Kanae would take the RER B train from the Châtelet station located just two minutes from

<footnote n="146">¹⁴⁶ We were speaking in Japanese. The word she used was “kokoro” (heart/mind).</footnote>

<footnote n="147">¹⁴⁷ To refresh the memory of a reader previously unfamiliar with Tenrikyo, “hinokishin” is a Tenrikyo specific term literally meaning “daily contribution,” in which followers perform acts of service as an expression of gratitude to God the Parent, chiefly for loaning us physical bodies and also to “sweep away” harmful tendencies from one’s heart, referred to as “dust.”</footnote>

<footnote n="148">¹⁴⁸ Kanae’s casual advice to look up Tenrikyo online if I was curious to learn more was somewhat opposed to several concerned comments I later heard from a core Japanese member of TEC in her forties during the beginning of my more in-depth introduction to Tenrikyo that there is a lot of misinformation about the religion online in response to my mention that out of curiosity, I had previously read some about the religion online.</footnote>
ACFJT south to the Croix de Berny station directly in front of which TEC is located and I would travel in the opposite direction, through a slightly less direct commute, to a suburb located 60 km north of Paris where I lived throughout the span of my fieldwork.

When we were almost back to where we would part ways, an older man slightly in front of us was staggering to the left and right as he slowly traversed a crosswalk and then fell in the middle of it. We approached him to help and after seeing him up-close and attempting to communicate with him, it became evident that his state was not from alcohol intoxication, as I had initially guessed, but rather from some sort of medical problem, perhaps a stroke or heart attack, though we never learned exactly what had happened. I was unsure what to do other than to try to talk to him. He was extremely disoriented and not making much sense. I had no medical training<sup>149</sup> and did not know the emergency telephone number in France to call for an ambulance. Thankfully, soon other people stopped to help, one of whom had slight medical knowledge, while another called for an ambulance. I explained to the people who had stopped what I had seen as we were trying to sort out the situation as best we could, then again slightly later to the paramedics who arrived, as this seemed like the most I could do to try to help.

Amidst the chaotic scene after the paramedics arrived, I noticed Kanae had backed up slightly from the crowd, enough so that she was somewhat removed from it. I saw her discreetly clap four times, which I learned over a year and a half later to be how prayer is commenced and concluded in the Tenrikyo faith, put her hands in prayer ("namaste") position for an amount of time that I cannot specify, then again clap four times. As stated previously, I did not know anything about Tenrikyo at the time and my point of focus was not on her, but it was obvious that she was praying with intensity. Once it became evident that the paramedics had taken over the situation and our role in it was done, we left the scene and said our goodbyes, then parted toward our respective homes. I was quite shaken up by the incident and thought it was rather strange that Kanae wasn't as well, at least visibly. We never talked in detail about this incident other than a quick exchange of comments about what had happened the next time we saw each other but in

<footnote n="149"><sup>149</sup> No medical training other than several basic CPR courses more than a decade before, which was largely irrelevant to this situation.</footnote>
retrospect, this moment served as my introduction to a key practice of the group that would later
become my thesis research population.

Thereafter, Kanae and I met occasionally after she finished work to speak in Japanese and English together. We often met at a nearby Starbucks inside the Châtelet station that was still open at a somewhat late hour because she finished work at 8pm. We talked about a variety of subjects but little about Tenrikyo. I was curious to learn more about her religion and its connected social world, but she did not talk much about it. In like manner, I did not pose many questions despite my curiosity, sensing her reluctance in combination with my own shyness at that point in research-related social contexts. Later, I learned that Kanae's reluctance was partially based on the complicated situation such young adult missionary teachers in France encounter. Though they are, at least in theory, principally in France to spread the faith of Tenrikyo, they are advised to exercise caution in discussing it with people.

When I asked Kanae about where she and other teachers like her who come on assignment from
Japan to teach at ACFJT live, she explained to me that they live at a religious center in Antony
(TEC) where they do different sorts of activities- both pointedly religious ones and also activities
for the broader population that are not overtly religious. I did not understand exactly what she
meant by this but tried to imagine the place she was describing that served as her home during her
time in France. In response to my question of who, more precisely, these visiting teachers were
and what their lives were like during their time in France, she told me that there were both single
people similar in age to herself and also (a) married couple(s<sup>150</sup>) from Japan who live there.

Regarding her schedule, she cheerily explained that she worked at the school Monday through
Friday and that on Saturdays, she helped clean the building where they have events. Her response
was reflective of the high number of hours<sup>151</sup> that these visiting missionary teachers work,
something that throughout my research was most often presented by such individuals with a

<footnote n="150">150 The Japanese language does not differentiate between singular and plural nouns. At the time, I interpreted it to imply potentially multiple married couples but came to later realize the residential social composition of TEC is generally single, young adults from Japan and an older, married couple from Japan who operate the center.</footnote>

<footnote n="151">151 Working a high number of hours is not unique to TEC or Tenrikyo. It is also rather common in broader Japanese society. In Tenrikyo, “(hard) work” (*hataraku*) is a main Tenrikyo value. This, along with early rising and honesty are often discussed as three important values (“three treasures” *mistu no takara*) in Tenrikyo.</footnote>
happy-go-lucky nonchalance through a brushing aside of difficulties paired with the maintenance of an upbeat countenance and, particularly in the case of the young women, a smiley mode of expression. This demeanor was encouraged in the faith, reflective of the fact that “living joyously”<fnref n="152" /> and performing hinokishin are central Tenrikyo tenants, as I will further discuss in more detail slightly later. When Kanae and I were in the beginning stages of getting to know each other, I had difficulty envisioning the center of TEC that she was describing and was interested to learn more but didn’t overly press for details. Little did I know that later, after she had already left France, I would become a regular presence at the religious center she had lived for two years.

### b. Encouraging presence to promote exposure

#### Welcoming people to TEC for non-religious events: a strategically indirect approach to religious propagation

Although Kanae did not speak directly about her religion to me very much nor invite me to a religious service at TEC, she did invite me several times to non-religious activities held there. This is the main way people studying at or otherwise connected to ACFJT initially come to the religious center. By going to TEC for activities which are not overtly religious in nature, they are somewhat indirectly but purposefully exposed to the religious center and the religion of Tenrikyo. From an official Tenrikyo perspective that is held by many of its followers, including those in Europe and more so, those actively operating in “missionary roles,” through this introduction “seeds are sown” which may later sprout into something more<fnref n="153" />. This is a Tenrikyo phrase and concept that I will elaborate on slightly later in this text.

My first visit to TEC was for its annual charity rummage sale held at the center each May. This is the TEC event which draws the most non-Tenrikyo people to the center each year. In recent years, about 70 volunteers have helped with the event each year—about half of whom are not Tenrikyo followers but are in various ways connected to the larger TEC community, often through past or present involvement with ACFJT. It also draws about 500-600 shoppers each year. These shoppers include people who learn of the rummage sale through ACFJT, people from

<footnote n="152">¹⁵² The official term employed in modernity for this joyousness is “the Joyous Life”: yōki gurashi 陽気ぐらし.</footnote>

<footnote n="153">¹⁵³ In Tenrikyo, there is a heavy use of agrarian metaphors conveyed by the religion's foundress.</footnote>
the surrounding area, and people interested in acquiring Japanese books and other Japanese goods or otherwise come due to the reputation it has for having many high-quality goods and tasty homemade Japanese foods offered at low prices.

At one point while I was there, I asked Kanae if it would be possible to use the restroom. She hesitated while thinking about which one of the center's three restroom locations would be best to bring me to since certain areas of the building were inaccessible or filled with people, then asked me to follow her upstairs. I went with her to the second floor of TEC, which I had not yet visited, and she showed me to the restrooms positioned next to the closed double-doors that I learned led into the sanctuary. After my visit to the restroom, she explained to me that the room behind the double-doors was where they pray and asked if I would like to see it. I said yes. We took off our shoes, placed them on the floor in front of the door, then went inside. I was immediately struck by the "Japaneseness" of this space located in a Parisian suburb. Kanae told me in the generally cheerful manner typical of Japanese Tenrikyo followers that included a smiley countenance and energetic demeanor, which is also typical of many Japanese young women and particularly encouraged for female Tenrikyo followers, that they (meaning the people living at TEC<fnref n="154" />) come to this room every day.

Kanae's demeanor that was also present amongst many female Tenrikyo followers is partially summarized in an “anecdote of Oyasama<fnref n="155" />” that I heard a young woman in a similar visiting missionary teacher position cite as her favorite anecdote during a Saturday “Europe Women's Association” meeting approximately two years later. At this meeting, I was, as usual, the only non-Japanese person in attendance.

<footnote n="154">¹⁵⁴ As is common in Japanese speech, a specifying pronoun was not included in this statement. It was implied, though, that she was talking about herself and others who were similarly living at the center.</footnote>

<footnote n="155">¹⁵⁵ Anecdotes of Oyasama, the Foundress of Tenrikyo (1976) (Kohon Tenrikyo Oyasama-den Itsuwa-hen 稿本天理教教祖伝逸話篇) is an anthology of anecdotes about the foundress that is of the supplemental texts (jun-genten 準原典) to the Tenrikyo scriptures.</footnote>
*Amiability first of all*

One day, Oyasama told Yoshie Iburi:

> “Dear Yoshie, amiability is required of women first of all. Cheerfully to answer, ‘Yes’, to whatever one is told, is of prime importance<fnref n="156" />.”

(Anecdotes of Oyasama, the Foundress of Tenrikyo, anecdote 112, 1976: 94)

At this time, though, I was generally unfamiliar with the Tenrikyo religion and was unaware of this gendered countenance that is prescribed in it. The details of what precisely they do in the highly “Japanese” room dedicated to religious practice in which we were standing were a little difficult for Kanae to describe but she explained that they sing and dance “there,” gesturing to the floor where we were standing. After this brief close-up introduction to the Tenrikyo religion, we went back downstairs to the rummage sale and I left shortly after as the event neared its end.

The open sanctuary with clean wooden floors and three distinctly Japanese-looking altars at the front struck me as an interesting window into another aspect of Kanae's life other than what I saw in the city center of Paris in what I mentally noted with curiosity to be a markedly Japanese setting located in a Parisian suburb. The three altars at the front of the room were highly similar in style to Shinto altars, and as I later learned, were also quite similar to altars used in certain other Japanese new religions. Further adding to the distinctly Japanese character of the room were the framed works of Japanese calligraphy, with their French translations and the musical instruments at the front and side of the room were musical instruments that are also used in other traditional Japanese musical contexts. Also contributing to this room's strong Japanese flavor was the heavy presence of red, black, and gold that was reminiscent of colors prominently present in Shinto contexts, further elucidating the nostalgic association I immediately felt between this room and Japanese contexts, such as Shinto shrines, that I had been exposed to in the past.

This notable “Japaneseness” was so striking to me upon entering TEC’s sanctuary for the first time that it immediately piqued my interest in relation to my developing research which was still in its beginning stages. At this time, my intended research focus had shifted from its initial topic of Japanese restaurants in Paris to the broader subject of Japanese migrants in Paris and the transferal and transformation of cultural practices from their country of origin to France.

<footnote n="156">¹⁵⁶ The second half of this anecdote continues: “She added: “Do not do anything that would waste another person’s life. “Do not waste even a single vegetable leaf. “Leftovers will nourish you. It is not gluttony.””</footnote>
Although I did not understand all the details of what I was seeing, the TEC sanctuary struck me as a potential wealth of exploration in relation to my developing research interests, which it later proved to be.

Kanae and I met up from time to time until she went back to Japan one year later. During our time together, I sometimes talked to her about my school life and attempts to advance in my research-based studies, which included the need to learn about and focus on a more precise point of inquiry than my field of exploration was at the time. When Kanae left France after her predetermined two year stay at TEC had ended, I still had not yet considered the possibility of focusing my research specifically on the center that she had called home and on the community that she was so much a part of during her time in France and continued to be part of to a lesser degree thereafter.

Over this period of Kanae's time at TEC, I also went to another non-religious event held there upon her invitation: the annual traditional Japanese mochi pounding in preparation of the new year that is held in December and attracts many non-followers to the center. In this, I was becoming familiar with the religious center in a way that matched an established and purposeful pattern of non-Tenrikyo people first becoming connected with ACFJT and the Tenrikyo missionaries there, then later coming to non-religious events held at TEC through which they become exposed to the religion of Tenrikyo. At the time, though, I did not realize that my own journey of discovery corresponded to the religion's missionary efforts and also part of the construction of this center's wider community.

### “Sprinkling the fragrance” of the faith: the purposeful dispersal of a “Tenrikyo scent”

I do not recall consciously noting any particular fragrance on my first visit to the sanctuary, though the subtle smell I later noticed there and in certain other parts of the center's premises was undoubtedly present on this first visit. It was a scent somehow reminiscent to me of “Japan” which I could not precisely identify. This subtle olfactory component was no doubt influential in my perception of this room's “Japaneseness” that was shaped not only through visual factors and my conscious intellectualization about what I was seeing with my eyes but also through more subtlety present somatic perception, notably that of smell.
I would like to pause on the concept of smell in relation to this center, the Tenrikyo religion, and furthermore, the broader realm of Japanese culture, the three of which are intricately tied as this olfactory component is particularly relevant for two connected reasons. Firstly, the Tenrikyo-specific term to refer to making efforts to spread the faith in various ways, sometimes referred to in English as “missionary work,” is “(doing) nioi gake”<fnref n="157" /> (“nioi gake o suru”), commonly also expressed in English through the phrase: “spreading the fragrance of the faith”<fnref n="158" />. A literal translation of the three components which comprise this Japanese Tenrikyo phrase is “smell/odor/fragrance” (“nioi”), “sprinkle/spread/put on” (“gake”), “to do” (“o suru”). Thus, in Tenrikyo, efforts to spread the faith are linguistically framed most commonly through the sensory realm of olfaction.

This brings us to the second point that I would like to discuss here: in Japanese culture and in the Japanese language, particular attention and referential position is accorded to smell. As explicitly pointed out by Bénéti (2008: 258), “a sensorium is varyingly defined according to time, space, and culture. What sense (or senses) become predominant and privileged over others is a matter of cultural, social, historical, and of course, political circumstances.” Thus, as “nioi” holds a prominent place, both in a literal and, at least seemingly, figurative sense, in both Japanese, and connectedly, Tenrikyo culture, it is a term that merits exploration. The Japanese word “nioi” (smell/odor/fragrance) is commonly used to reference not only literal olfactory stimuli but also the essence or character of something. To discuss the largely symbolic use of this sensorially-based descriptive, I refer to Moeran (2005) who provides an excellent exploration of the topic. In his inclusion of the history of olfactory culture in Japan, he positions the introduction of Buddhism in 662 AD to have been a major force in its development, as it made frequent use of incense in its rituals. The prominent role of scent, as Moeran outlines, was thereafter centrally showcased in the important 10th century literary work, “*Genji Monogatari*” (The Tale of

<footnote n="157">157 にをいがけをする: This atypical spelling is how it is written in Tenrikyo, explained most commonly by that the foundress wrote mainly in hiragana (phoenetic) characters rather than kanji (Chinese characters which connotate a meaning, usually with several possible pronunciations, rather than a sound) and that “を”(o) was commonly used in places now written with “お” (o).</footnote>

<footnote n="158">158 The standard Japanese word for missionary work (布教: Fukyō) is also used, though less commonly, to discuss efforts to spread the faith.</footnote>
Genji)<sup>159</sup>, in which its author(s)<sup>160</sup> constructed the entire work around the concept of smell. In addition to its “olfactory structure,” it also contains numerous scenes in which scent is a critical component of social interactions and plot development, thereby suggesting the importance it held in the culture and in the construction of perception at that time.

But a fictional description of olfactory usage in 10th century Japanese court society, while revealing many of the classic social distinctions enabled by odour found in other societies (for instance, that the elite smell 'better' than the lower classes), does not necessarily represent faithfully the place of smell in everyday life among contemporary Japanese. However, evidence suggests that one of the primary 'webs of significance' (Geertz 1973:5) spun to form modern Japanese culture is olfactory (Katz 1996:11), and that 'group intimacy and alignments are at least partially established by olfactory stimuli' (Largey and Watson 1972:1027). From the elaborated tradition of *kodo* incense ceremony or 'way of fragrance', [...] by way of programmed air conditioning systems that send different scents through buildings in various sequences at different times of the day (Hasegawa 1993:158), many people in Japan make conscious use of smell in their everyday lives as they manipulate odour settings and olfactory identity.

For example, Japanese often remark on the various fragrances marking different seasons (like the set-phrase *umegaka* [spring plum blossom] or *kunpu* [fragrant summer breeze]), and use the generic term 'smell' (*nioi*) to describe the atmosphere they experience as particular to a foreign country (tourist brochures regularly comment on this). They distinguish themselves from non-Japanese both by odour (Westerners have often in the past been said to 'smack of butter' [*butter-kusai*]) and by the shape of their noses (Caucasians have 'high noses' [*hana ga takai*]). Their own noses also act as markers of identity. Like some other peoples in east and south east Asia, they point to their noses when referring to themselves. They also have a broad range of smell related descriptives used in everyday conversation: *dorokusai*, meaning unrefined (lit. 'stinking of mud'); *kane no nioi ga suru* (lit. 'smacks of money'); and *kanryoshu ga tsuyoi* (lit. 'smelling strongly of the bureaucrat'). They still practice and appreciate the art of the 'lingering fragrance' (*nokori-ga*) - either from an incense stick burned before the arrival of guests at a tea ceremony, or from the understated sillage of a woman's fragrance in the street. Generally, modern Japanese are very sensitive to scents, fragrances, and odours of one sort or another. (Moeran 2005: 101)

<footnote n="159">159 This work is commonly referred to as the world's first novel, though there is significant controversy about assertion.</footnote>

<footnote n="160">160 The primary author is generally thought to have been Lady Murasaki Shikibu. The first translator of this work to modern Japanese thought its later chapters were written by her daughter. There are additionally multiple other theories regarding its precise authorship.</footnote>
I include this lengthy quote from Moeran because it describes the prominent position scent has in
everyday Japanese culture and language, thereby situating this important Tenrikyo term and
concept in the broader cultural-linguistic milieu from which the religion came and continues to be
principally based. Moeran's text is also helpful in bringing to the reader's attention the important
place this sensorial component holds in the culture of the majority of people included in my study
in which scent is strongly linked to largely intangible experiential and conceptual domains, of
which the realm of emotion is included, thereby rendering it part of their habitus. Through this,
we can contextualize and better understand that one form of missionary work is to bring people to
TEC (and other Tenrikyo sites), thereby exposing them to the "fragrance" of the faith. This form
of indirect missionary work includes the purposeful emission of joy at the center, and on the part
of its religious actors, and the presence of material and immaterial factors understood to
encourage the development of this emotion, which is positioned as a centrally important
component of the religion.

Tenrikyo followers, including those in Europe and at TEC, are commonly beseeched to exude the “perfume” or “fragrance” of Tenrikyo. This request is an important part of its religious discourse, including at TEC Monthly Services and other religiously focused events held at the center. Furthermore, this aim is accorded a high level of importance in specific structured formative moments of cultivating “spiritually mature” followers, such as at Tenrikyo spiritual trainings like the annual seminar held at TEC and the experience of becoming a Yoboku in Tenri City, which I discuss in chapter ten, that entails the requirement of first listening to the nine identical Besseki lectures that contain this point.

Dispersing the fragrance of the faith was believed to be able to occur through multiple forms.
Even when discussion of the intellectually based components of the religion's dogma and other
"fact-based" information was not included<fnref n="161" /> in the experience of people coming to and being
part of the social realm of TEC and other Tenrikyo-based contexts such as ACFJT, their exposure
to this emotional state partially grounded in the realm of the sensory was positioned as a means
through which the goals of the religion were met. Although the religion was generally not

<footnote n="161">161 This is not to say that conveying the faith through intellectual means via discussion on its dogma was not also sought out and encouraged to varying levels depending on the individuals and the context.</footnote>
discussed at ACFJT, the purposeful dispersal of its underlying “fragrance” was a set component of the prescribed role of missionary teachers at this laique center, as I heard indicated by several missionary teachers and the wives of a couple of these individuals. In this manner, even though the religion was not talked about openly at ACFJT due to their navigation of the cultural model of laicity in which they were operating, it was considered important for these missionary teachers to function under a particular behavioral and dispositional model that embodied the teachings, thereby spreading this aspect of the religion to others, despite the absence of overt proselytization there.

*Spreading joy and community, spreading the faith via the "energy of light": multifaceted motivations for encouraging the presence of non-Tenrikyo people at TEC*

When I went to TEC for the first time for the charity rummage sale, what was most striking to me was the joyous atmosphere of community between diverse people. The memory that sticks out in my mind of this day is sitting in the warm sun, eating *takoyaki* (fried octopus dumplings) while Kanae was working behind the nearby food stand in unfashionable track pants and imitation plastic Croc shoes (as opposed to the more sophisticated version of Kanae that I was accustomed to seeing when I met up with her after work in Paris.) Also included in this scene was my Japanese teacher at the time, who I later learned to be not a follower of the faith herself, enthusiastically performing in a Taiko drum group with her French husband<fnref n="162" /> on the lawn to the side of the building while others milled about, enjoying themselves in the festive atmosphere. In this scene, my non-Tenrikyo teacher, along with many others helping with the event, were at least for that moment members of the TEC community.

A common reason I heard from non-Tenrikyo people for why they continued to come to TEC to participate in such events for multiple years is that they enjoy the atmosphere. Numerous such non-Tenrikyo people have been coming to events at TEC and often have also been connected to ACFJT for a number of years. Though they are not followers of the religion, they are positioned at the periphery of the wider local TEC community both through their physical and social involvement and also via their developed familiarity and often cultivated embodiment of the emotionality of the group that is associated in the religion, as well as in the broader Japanese

<footnote n="162">¹⁶² The Taiko drum group had no affiliation with ACFJT or Tenrikyo.</footnote>
cultural sphere from which the religion and the majority of its followers originated and continue
to be based, with the realm of the sensory. At this event, energetically upright body language and
smiles were common amongst staff and contagiously circulated amongst those in attendance,
upbeat chatter and music, the smell and for some, the taste, of numerous popular Japanese treats
cooking and being sold for a small price were all notable features of the event.

The joyous atmosphere of this charity rummage sale was a purposefully cultivated mode of sociality linked with this idealized emotional state that was also an important part of other events held at TEC and many other Tenrikyo contexts which serves as a motivating factor for people to come. In this, the broader “community” that repeatedly comes together at TEC is largely constructed through sensorial experiences that are highly influential to the realm of emotions which served as both a motivational factor to take part in such gatherings and also the communal ambiance that was constructed therein.

“Joy” or more precisely, the “Joyous Life,” which in Japanese Tenrikyo discourse is most often
referred to with the words, “yōki gurashi”<fnref n="163" />, is positioned as a central teaching of the faith that
explains this to largely be the purpose of human life, the foundress’ revelations, and the ultimate
soterial aim of the religion: the three of which are intrinsically interrelated. As I heard discussed
at TEC during religious trainings and events<fnref n="164" /> and from people in the role of “officially”
speaking about the religion (such as when giving a sermon), the etymology of this Japanese
Tenrikyo term is illuminative to understanding its deeper meaning. In Tenrikyo, this highly
present phrase, which could in fact be described as the religion’s slogan, consists of three

<footnote n="163">163 陽気ぐらし I learned at the Tenrikyo European Seminar held at TEC that the term "Joyous Life" ("la Vie de Joie") refers to several related terms that appear in Tenrikyo scriptures and historical documents written in Japanese. The most commonly used term currently is “yōki gurashi (陽気ぐらし).” In the sacred “Ofudesaki” text that the foundress wrote, the term is written as yōki yusan (よふきゆさん. In the *Osashizu* (a written collection of oral instructions conveyed by her predecessor, Izo Iburi) it is written as yōki asobi (陽気遊び) and yōki gurashi (陽気ぐらし). Early outlines of the Tenrikyo teachings use the terms yōki naru yusan asobi (よふきなるゆさんあすび) and yōki yusan (陽気遊参). As this thesis is not a theological inquiry into the early etymological details of the faith, I will not elaborate on the subtle differences between these terms as it is the first mentioned term (yōki gurashi) that is generally part of modern Tenrikyo vocabulary and is understood to convey this important aspect of the faith’s teachings.</footnote>

<footnote n="164">¹⁶⁴ Such as the European Seminar and also the annual youth retreat, “Palette,” that draws together Tenrikyo youth (and some others) from numerous European locations that I attended twice.</footnote>
components. *Yo* (陽) translates approximately to "positive" or "light" and uses the same kanji character as *Yang* in the Chinese Yin and Yang. *Ki* (気) translates approximately to "spirit" or "energy." It is the same character as "qi" in Chinese and is used in the frequently employed Japanese word "元気" (*genki*<fnref n="165" />) to discuss a person's well-being or energy. The third component of this term, "gurashi" (ぐらし), is written in Tenrikyo with these syllabic hiragana characters but in the Japanese language in other contexts is often written with the kanji character "暮" (*gurashi*) that means "livelihood" and implies life in a more day-to-day sense. The largely intangible characteristic of the etymology of the first two Chinese characters used in the words commonly employed in Tenrikyo to reference the idealized emotional state of joy, or more literally, the "energy of light," and connectedly, the potential salvific state of the world in which humans live in this positive emotional state, free from social and physical ailments, is an important feature of the religion that is closely connected with the senses as it was often through tangible, lived experiences that this joyous state was purposefully cultivated in the self and attempted to be evoked in others.

Often at TEC events, the importance of being joyous and sharing joy with others was encouraged through official discourse, such as statements made during opening and closing speeches that emphasized the cultivation of it in oneself and encouragement to promote it in others. An example of this that I observed on two separate occasions was in the morning talk given at the start of the day at the charity rummage sale<fnref n="166" /> delivered by the head of TEC, Mr. Kawakubo, to volunteers helping with the event. On both these occasions, the day of the scheduled event aligned with rainy weather. Regarding the inopportune weather, Mr. Kawakubo included in his opening discourse that he delivered to approximately 50 of the 70 people in total who helped with the event<fnref n="167" /> who were assembled together in the sanctuary (the majority of whom were not

<footnote n="165">165 "Genki" is a commonly used Japanese word composed of the kanji characters 元 (gen: origin) and 気 (ki: energy) that is used daily in phrases such as "Are you genki (well)?" and "Lately I haven't had much genki (energy)."</footnote>

<footnote n="166">166 In addition to my previously mentioned visit to the TEC charity rummage sale as a shopper which served as my first time coming to the center, I volunteered at the event for four consecutive years. The first two times were during my designated period of fieldwork and the latter two times were after I decided to end my period of fieldwork, while I was in the process of writing my thesis.</footnote>

<footnote n="167">167 It was not required that people helping with the event be at TEC in the morning. Some people arrived around noon to help only with the portion of it open to the public rather in the morning to help with finalizing preparations</footnote>
Tenrikyo followers but individuals somehow connected with TEC and/or ACFJT) that although it was grey outside, he asked that we shine from within ourselves to make the event sunny.

He then added that although we were raising money for humanitarian causes for people in less comfortable situations than ourselves, simply making sales was not the principal goal of the event. Rather, it was important that we enjoy ourselves in working together and to create an enjoyable atmosphere to share with those who came. Numerous Tenrikyo teachings were contained in his words, though they were conveyed without specific reference to the religion. This included the importance of cultivating the emotional state of joy in ourselves and others, and connectedly, the importance of “mutual help” (tasuke ai). Furthermore, the dispersal of this idealized emotionality to others was not only positioned as something transmitted through concrete material factors and discourse but also through what is “sensed,” as it was explained that it was important to cultivate joy in oneself, partially so that this inner feeling would be transmitted to others.

Although one aspiration of such “missionary” efforts was to lead new people to the faith, another was to encourage joy and human camaraderie as it was explained in the faith’s teachings that these two potential components of the human experience were mainly why God the Parent created humans and also largely the goal of the faith. Thus, while spreading the religion to others in a manner that results in their becoming followers of the religion was one goal of the faith, in their orchestration of such non-markedly religious events and activities, another motivation was to create an atmosphere of community and to make others happy. These multi-focal goals did not always present themselves as evidently complementary, but the presence of one did not negate the other.

Regarding this, I would like to come back to my previously discussed Japanese friend’s wariness of Tenrikyo due to not being sure of exactly what they are up to when groups affiliated with the religion engaged in various cultural and community-oriented pursuits but did not overtly communicate their religious affiliation when doing so. In presenting one of their motivations (working toward the societal and personal well-being of others) more than the other (obtaining new followers), it does not negate that both aims were usually present. According to my
observations and analysis, this omission is not so much a dishonest presentation as it is reflective of choosing to put certain factors of what is going on more in the forefront than other components of its entirety. In reality, both the seemingly more secular objectives and the more blatantly religious goals are considered important. Moreover, on a profound level, these superficially different aims are, in fact, largely intertwined because, as stated slightly previously, the path of Tenrikyo is regarded as the means through which human joy, health, and social harmony, taught in the faith as the ultimate reason for our creation by God the Parent and God the Parent's ultimate desire for humanity, will be achieved.

According to all the discourse that I have encountered regarding these two motivating factors that do not always present themselves as entirely congruent, it is working to facilitate the happiness and well-being of others that is positioned as what should be prioritized over gaining new followers of the faith. How it is deemed best to engage in these two aims of the faith was often personally and contextually dependent. There was not a universally followed format to approach the matter and thus, amongst Tenrikyo followers, including those found at TEC, there were a variety of approaches and perspectives on the matter. Often, learning how to navigate working toward these two religious goals (amidst other factors of their lives and the context in which they are operating) was an ongoing experientially based learning process in which followers were in a constant state of adjustment.

> Working to increase awareness of Tenrikyo and its teachings in the broader population: "sowing seeds" that may grow into something more

As explained previously, one reason events that were not overtly religious in nature were hosted at TEC was to draw people to the religious center. Amongst the motivations for doing this was so that some of these people may later become followers of the faith, though in my observations, this was quite rare<fnref n="168" />. Making such efforts toward the possibility of this goal could be described through Tenrikyo-specific language as "sowing seeds" that may eventually grow into something more. This is one of the numerous agricultural metaphors contained in the religion, reflective of

<footnote n="168">¹⁶⁸ Regarding the sowing of seeds that may eventually turn into some of these people becoming followers of the faith, connected to the concept of rebirth that exists in the religion, I heard several times that even if their efforts do not lead people to becoming followers of the faith in this life, perhaps they will in a later life.</footnote>
the agrarian context in which the foundress and the first followers lived. The concept conveyed
through this somewhat frequently used English gloss term to describe making efforts that may
later produce results is contained in numerous primary Tenrikyo sources through multiple
Japanese phrases. One phrase that specifically references the propagation of the religion in this
way is found in “Anecdotes of Oyasama” (1979): a prominent Tenrikyo book which includes 200
stories about the foundress’ words and actions explained to be compiled from written and oral
accounts of early followers who met and received instruction from her.

...You are the Taneichi (literally, 'seed market'), so you will sow seeds." What do you mean by sowing seeds? asked Tatsu. Then Oyasama taught: "It means to go here and there and talk of Tenri-Ō..."<fnref n="169" /> (Anecdotes of Oyasama 1979: 8–9, anecdote 13).

Although “missionary” efforts may not immediately result in new “members” of the religion,
followers were nonetheless supposed to be sowing seeds toward this aim with the perspective that
their efforts may later turn into something more. Beyond the goal of acquiring new members at
the present time, simply spreading awareness of Tenrikyo’s existence was considered progress for
the path, as expressed by both official Tenrikyo discourse that originated from Tenrikyo Church
Headquarters and numerous followers at TEC. Regarding this, I commonly heard from core
followers, who were mainly though not exclusively Japanese, that one of the main challenges
Tenrikyo faces in Europe is that it remains little known on this continent. As a result of TEC
hosting such events, non-Tenrikyo attendants become more familiar with the faith by coming to
the religious center and enjoying the warm atmosphere it provides, even if such visits do not
quickly lead to their becoming adherents of the religion.

At the annual charity rummage sale, as partially indicated in the previous section, volunteers came to the sanctuary before and after the event at which time a small talk that included some details about the religion and its teachings was given. Commonly included were basic components deemed important to communicate, such as that the three altars at the front of the room were dedicated to the ancestors (*mitamasama*) on the left, God the Parent (*Oyagamisama*) in the center, and the foundress (Oyasama) on the right. Also frequently explained was that all humans are brothers and sisters, regardless of differences such as skin color, etc. and of the faith’s

<footnote n="169">¹⁶⁹ “Tenri-O-no-Mikoto” is one of multiple names Oyasama taught as a name of God the Parent.</footnote>
centrally important tenet of the warm “parental love” (*oyagokoro 親心*<fnref n="170" />) that God the Parent and the foundress, who is regarded as our ever-loving original mother, have for all humans as their children. This parent-child structural relationship held a central place in the religion in multiple ways including its cosmology and structural organization, which I discuss more in the next chapter.

In addition to being exposed to the religious space of TEC’s sanctuary and learning some basic information about the faith’s tenets when those volunteering at this charity event assembled there before and after the day’s event, they were also exposed to the centrally important ritual of the faith. This chiefly important rite was that of the Service, more specifically in this case, that of the Morning and Evening Service comprised of the Seated Service (sacred songs performed with hand dance gestures) and at TEC, one of the other thirteen Mikagura-uta songs that were danced in standing position in unison by followers in attendance<fnref n="171" />. Non-followers were free to join, and to follow along if they did not yet know the involved gestures but were under no obligation to do so. Simply through being present, they were experientially exposed to the chiefly important ritual of the religion that is positioned as the path through which a joyous world will be attained.

At the annual *mochi-tsuki* (traditional rice cake pounding event) hosted by the center, like other such non-markedly religious events which draw many non-Tenrikyo people to participate, such as the annual *hanami* (cherry blossom viewing picnic) hosted in the nearby Parc de Sceaux<fnref n="172" />, no

<footnote n="170">¹⁷⁰ The original Japanese term (*oya gokoro*) that is often translated into English as “parental love” literally means (approximately) “parental heart,” which it is also sometimes translated into in English as, depending largely on the context and the translators preference. The original Japanese term (gokoro) is the same word as “kokoro,” though pronounced slightly differently, that is at the center of the faith’s discourse and teachings in relation to oneself which is generally translated into English as “heart” or “mind” and in French as “coeur” or “esprit.” The English word “love” is most commonly translated into Japanese “ai” (愛), is not commonly used in Japanese discourse. Similar to many other non-Western languages, the word “love” is difficult to directly translate into Japanese and is often not contextually used in the same way.</footnote>

<footnote n="171">¹⁷¹ The daily Morning and Evening Services are comprised chiefly of the Seated Service. The performance of one or two of the thirteen Mikagura-uta dances are often also included in this twice daily ritual, depending on the site, though it is not required.</footnote>

<footnote n="172">¹⁷² Parc de Sceaux draws crowds well beyond the ACFJT/ TEC group every year who come to celebrate the springtime blooming of the many cherry trees in this park. One year when I participated in the event, there was a rainstorm on the scheduled day of the picnic. TEC staff decided that rather than canceling the event last minute, that the picnic would be hosted inside the main building TEC. As an impromptu adaptation to the circumstances, several of the young adult male residential missionaries printed pictures of cherry blossoms and hung them on the</footnote>
such visit to the sanctuary was incorporated into the main event. Despite the lack of a scheduled
visit to the sanctuary and the orchestration of this chiefly important ritual, it remained a present
feature in which non-followers may participate. This was through individual invitations to some
people in attendance, most commonly on the part of residential staff members with whom they
already had an amical relationship, to stay at the center after the official event had ended and
come see this component of the center and of the religion, if they were interested and wished to
do so. In my observations, several non-followers usually stayed after the events and chose to
accept the invitation, usually staying for dinner as well, which additionally provided more time to
discuss the religion in a casual context. In such an approach, the main missionary technique
employed was to simply create an opening through which to expose potentially interested people
to the religion. In doing so, it was hoped that some such non-followers would become interested
in the religion and eventually become followers of it. This approach of creating potential
openings through which people could come to know and embrace the faith was a major theme of
how attempts to spread the faith were made at TEC, through ACFJT, and in multiple other
contexts connected to this European scene.

*The orchestration of “traditional” cultural activities at TEC and in Tenrikyo: encouraging experiential involvement in modernity and while abroad*

During this slow introductory period to TEC, well before my research became focused on my
present thesis topic, I also went to attend their annual December mochi pounding event, primarily
intended for children but which included people of all ages. The main activity of this event, as its
English gloss name implies, was pounding rice into mochi. To do this, participants took turns
using large wooden mallets in generally teams of three to pound in alteration the glutinous rice
placed in a large mortar for this purpose. (See image hereafter).

wall as a tongue-in-cheek making the best out of a less than optimal situation.
<figure><img src="image_14.png" /><figcaption>Image 3: Annual December mochi pounding event at TEC, lower level multi-purpose room at TEC, photo: Tenrikyo Europe Centre 2016c.</figcaption></figure>

At TEC, among those in attendance for this mochi pounding event were many families with at least one Japanese parent, many of whom had children who attended the Japanese classes at ACFJT for children who speak the language as their “langue maternelle” (mother tongue)<fnref n="173" />. A motivating factor for many of these Japanese parents to come to this event was a desire for their children to have a connection to Japanese culture while living in France. Moreover, there was a specific interest in the mochi pounding event due to its traditional importance in Japanese culture and its increasing rarity in modernity, thus making the opportunity somewhat exceptional, even in Japan<fnref n="174" />.

<footnote n="173">173 こども国語講</footnote>

<footnote n="174">174 Like at TEC, at many Tenrikyo sites in Japan, mochi is pounded in preparation of the new year. A large annual event in Tenri City from January 5-7 is the serving of mochi soup (o-zoni) made of large mochi cakes that have first been offered in the main sanctuary which draws approximately 80,000 annually</footnote>
This lively and physically engaging endeavor is a traditional Japanese activity that was done, amongst other reasons, in preparation for the new year. It has largely faded out of modern Japanese life, but in Tenrikyo contexts in and outside of Japan, it remains an ever-present activity at many of its sites (mission centers, churches, etc.). The pounding of mochi and the subsequent partaking of it to celebrate the new year is also a major event of the overarching religious organization. Every year, Tenrikyo churches throughout Japan give offerings of large mochi cakes that they have made for the New Year's Day Service held around the sacred point of the Jiba in Tenri City. Thereafter, on January 4, these offerings are taken down from the stands on which they were placed for this ritual gifting to God the Parent and cut into smaller pieces. For the following three days, from January 5 to 7, these roasted pieces of mochi are served with greens in a clear broth (zoni) to anyone coming to partake. It is a tradition that is regarded to date back to the time of the foundress' life and is now known as the "Sechi Festival"<fnref n="175" />.

Even during Oyasama's physical lifetime, people who gathered before Her during the New Year's holiday created the tradition of merrily partaking of offerings of rice cakes together. The amount of rice cake offerings gradually increased and records indicate that, in 1874, this amount was almost 136 kilograms (300 pounds). (Fukaya *a*, date unknown)

In recent years, about 40,000 kg of mochi has been offered annually for the new year celebrated at the Jiba. Approximately 70,000 people have partaken each year in the soup made from these offerings, with about 5,000 people helping with the event as hinokishin<fnref n="176" /> each year. This event is one of the major annual events of the religion that takes place in the central religiously-dedicated area of this pilgrimage town, known as the “Oyasato” (in English Tenrikyo discourse: “home of the parent”) and was something I heard about from numerous Japanese Tenrikyo followers charged with teaching others about the faith. Many core members of the TEC community had personally taken part in this event through either partaking of the soup as a guest or helping with

<footnote n="175">¹⁷⁵ “Sechi” is a general Japanese term used to refer to traditional new year’s foods.</footnote>

<footnote n="176">¹⁷⁶ In 2014, approximately 40,000 kg of mochi was offered, 78,715 people participated in the Sechi Festival and approximately 5,000 people volunteered for the event as hinokishin. In 2015, approximately 40,000 kg of mochi was offered, 62,000 people participated in the Sechi Festival and 4,700 people helped with the event as hinokishin. In 2016, approximately 66,000 people participated in the festival and 4,700 people helped with the event as hinokishin; the quantity of mochi offered was not listed. In 2017, approximately 71,111 people participated in the festival and 4,700 helped with the event as hinokishin; the quantity of mochi offered was again not listed. (Tenrikyo Online 2014, 2015, 2016a, 2017).</footnote>
the event as hinokishin, and often through both. Though approximately half-way around the world from TEC, this event serves as a collectively shared experiential reference for many members of the TEC community and also for the broader global collectivity of Tenrikyo followers.

Further emphasizing the prominence of this event in the conceptual landscape of Tenrikyo in Europe and at TEC was an enlarged photo of the central area of Tenri City where the Main Sanctuary is located filled with followers for this event. On numerous occasions, core members of TEC showed me and others who were largely unfamiliar with the religion this photo and described the event as “sugoi” (amazing/great). In their explanation of the photo, attention was usually drawn to the collective effort and togetherness, as well as the element of enjoyment, involved in this annual event.

The continuation of the practice of pounding mochi for the new year is but one example of the traditional aspects of Japanese culture that have largely ceased in modernity, but which continue to exist in Tenrikyo contexts. The notable presence of various aspects of “traditional” Japanese culture in the religion is reflective of the fact that its early period of development transpired at a time generally regarded as the beginning of Japanese modernity, thereby interweaving features of the “traditional” culture in which it came about into the religion’s practice and culture. After these transferred components largely faded out of the greater sphere of Japanese culture through changes that came about in modernity, their position, prominence, and notability in Tenrikyo was thereby increased through the developed contrast with the broader cultural context of Japan in which it was based.

Highly relevant to this is Hobshawm’s 1983 discussion of “invented traditions” in which he predicates that the invention of tradition usually occurs more frequently when a society is rapidly transformed, through which the social patterns for “old” traditions are weakened or destroyed. In the case of Tenrikyo against the broader backdrop of Japanese modernity, the fading out of various “traditional” components of Japanese culture from the broader societal context thereby increased the notable character of their inclusion within this religious context. This served to both solidify them as components of this religious world and to increase the level of interest that the
wider non-Tenrikyo public has in these parts of the broader Tenrikyo scene, meaning not its dogma and prescribed ritual activities but its more expansive comprehensive whole.

Although such components are not part of the strict practice of this religion, they are part of its broader “Tenrikyo culture”: a concept which I elaborate on at various points throughout this thesis, most notably in chapter seven. Through the involvement of social actors in such elements of Tenrikyo culture, they are experientially immersed in the lived experience of being part of this religious world for moments in time. In this, they become part of such scenes and conversely, such scenes experientially become part of them despite in many cases a lack of declared or overtly manifested belief or membership in the religion. This is one means through which the “fragrance” of the faith is spread. Despite such numerous routes through which its fragrance was dispersed, it is important to reiterate that gaining new followers remains a chief focal point of structured missionary efforts.

**c. Becoming part of the “TEC community” through purposeful inclusion**

*Constructing belonging through presence: local non-Tenrikyo, non-Japanese members of the multi-layered TEC community*

The first time I attended the mochi pounding event, about seven months before I decided to shift the focus of my research to its present topic, I noticed a small group of young French adults without children, several of whom I recognized from ACFJT. I would later learn that these young adults were representative of a small group of young adults from the cultural center who were regularly or semi-regularly involved in “non-religious” activities held at and connected to TEC through which they formed a group of friends. For the most part, they were present or past Japanese language students of ACFJT. Their social togetherness was largely centered on moments they shared at ACFJT, TEC, or in activities connected to these centers, such as the distribution of hot soup and drinks to homeless people in central Paris each Sunday evening throughout the winter season<fnref n="177" />.

<footnote n="177">177 This distribution was officially an activity of the European Young Men's Association but was open to anyone wishing to participate. I took part in this distribution with regularity for two winter seasons. About half the people helping with this activity on any given Sunday evening were non-Tenrikyo young adults, such as those referenced above. During these outings during which we split into most often two groups of about four to eight people and</footnote>
One young woman amongst this small group of French young adults who I recognized in particular was a non-Japanese person I noted to be helping with the rummage sale when I came to TEC for the first time a little over half-a-year previously, at which time I was attentive to the wealth of new information to which I was being exposed. In this initial visit, she was stationed near the entrance of TEC's main building and was clearly an “insider.” I mistakenly took her position as an insider during this initial visit to TEC to suggest that she was most likely a member of the religion. This was noteworthy to me at the time because I took it to imply it reasonable to surmise that not everyone involved with this Japanese religion was Japanese.

I later got to know this young woman initially through being in the same Japanese class which preceded my shift in research focus and later through the time we shared at TEC during such events. I learned her name was Chloé. She was in her early twenties and was working towards an undergraduate degree (license) in Japanese and English at a local university. She had begun taking Japanese classes at ACFJT as an adolescent almost ten years prior, largely as an extracurricular activity. She regularly came to events at TEC that were not markedly religious in nature as well as to social events at ACFJT, such as the monthly “pot amicals” (friendly gatherings). Furthermore, during the span of my focused fieldwork, she conducted an internship at ACFJT as part of her university program for which she worked alongside its staff.

Her long-term involvement with the TEC community rendered her a member of the group, evidenced for example through the familiarity she displayed in being at TEC and with its social actors. Her situatedness in this group was also demonstrated through the nostalgia I heard from several middle-aged long-term, local core members (one of whom had been her Japanese teacher at ACFJT when she was younger) about how much she has grown up and matured in the time they had known her. Despite her long-term, regular involvement with the group, she maintained distance from the religiosity of Tenrikyo and knew little about the tenets of the faith, flatly expressing to me during a train ride back into Paris that we shared after one such cultural event at TEC that she had little interest in learning about the Tenrikyo religion as she was atheist. She expanded on her position, describing that sometimes people charged with leadership

<footnote>circulated along established routes looking for people to propose our food and drink to, there was a friendly atmosphere filled with conversation and comradery that, in addition to making efforts to do something for others, inevitably proved to be an enjoyable social moment for those taking part in it.</footnote>
responsibilities at TEC tried to get her to do things she was not interested in doing (through invitations, mentions, or suggestions), such as slightly earlier that day, to purchase a music CD made by a Tenrikyo follower and stay for dinner, but that such appeals had no effect on what she did as she is not Japanese and thus did not feel obliged to comply with hierarchical authority figures.

It is noteworthy that Chloé displayed a maintenance of the personal boundaries she felt were right for her on numerous other occasions. For example, she explained that she was not interested in going to French-Japanese language exchanges held by other cultural associations at local cafes as she “did not feel comfortable in social settings where she does not know the people.” Similarly reflective of her maintenance of her personal sphere of comfort was that despite being French, she did not *faire la bise* (cheek kissing on both sides), something which in French interactions is often included in saying hello and goodbye, with it being rare to encounter a French person who decidedly does not engage in this social practice.

Chloé is just one example of such social actors from the local Parisian landscape who were not followers of the religion but were included in the broader social scene of TEC and its connected “community.” Although Chloé, and numerous other individuals, were not interested in becoming followers of the faith (at least at the present time,) they were nonetheless exposed to Tenrikyo through their social involvement with the group. Consequently, despite their not being included in the category of new followers who have come to follow the path in Europe, the goal of spreading the faith was interpretively none the less met through their experiential involvement. In my observations, there was significant variation regarding to what level this perspective was or was not shared by core members of the TEC community.

For those who erred on the former side of this perspective, the transmission of the Tenrikyo faith was regarded as something that will take time and thus simply facilitating exposure of the religion to the local population was viewed as progress. Accordingly, that at the time very few followers in Europe had been introduced to the path via ACFJT and in parallel, few students from ACFJT, such as the above discussed young adults, had become followers of the faith was not viewed as a problem. For others, this lack of progress was regarded as an indication that such efforts to spread
the religion to the European continent were not producing an appropriate level of results, thereby calling into question the efficacy of such methods and their legitimacy.

For example, one core member of the TEC community referred to the lack of European ritual performers in a particular Service ritual orchestrated for an important commemorative celebration at TEC which brought together many members of the broader TEC community dispersed throughout numerous European locations and also several high ranking Tenrikyo officials coming from Japan to show that the efforts to transmit the religion to this continent had been a “failure.” Included in this statement was an implication that the missionary efforts on this continent since the religion first established an official presence over forty years previously<fnref n="178" /> had been lacking or misguided. Despite such a perspective that was held by some members of the TEC community, ACFJT was a key means through which members of the local Parisian population came to TEC, even if it did not lead to the religion acquiring new members in most instances, at least in a manner timely enough to be notably observable in the past forty-some years the cultural center had been in operation.

## ACFJT and TEC as bridges to locally living non-Tenrikyo Japanese people

The exposure to the Tenrikyo religion facilitated by ACFJT was not limited to people from the local Parisian context. It also promoted exposure to the religion and aspects of its social world to non-Tenrikyo Japanese people living in the Parisian area. This occurred largely through activities that were aimed mainly or entirely at such Paris-based Japanese people who were frequently relatively unfamiliar with Tenrikyo. They commonly knew simply the name and sometimes some basic information such as that it is a “new religion” based in Nara Prefecture. Beyond this, they usually did not have much familiarity with its teachings and practices or other first-hand experience in Tenrikyo settings. Thus, in addition to ACFJT serving as a bridge to the local Parisian population, it also functions as a bridge to non-Tenrikyo Japanese people in the region of Paris, who most commonly transport their increased familiarity with the religion back to Japan upon their return to their home country.

<footnote n="178">¹⁷⁸ As mentioned previously, there had been earlier missionary efforts in England at the turn of the 20th century. In my above statement, the beginning of the religion's presence in Europe is associated with the 1970 founding of the missionary center that would later become known as TEC.</footnote>
This was chiefly brought about through activities and events that drew non-Tenrikyo Japanese people to ACFJT and TEC. In addition to ACFJT's main activity of Japanese language instruction for adults and the showcasing of artforms that brought in spectators, it also hosted classes that attracted Japanese students. Cultural classes such as *ikebana* (Japanese flower arrangement), *sado* (Japanese tea ceremony), and *nihonga* (Japanese water coloring) that were held at the center were attended largely, though not exclusively, by Japanese people living in the area. Frequently for such Japanese people, their interest in these classical Japanese artforms that they studied at ACFJT developed during their time abroad rather than during their time in Japan. This is reflective of a common tendency for migrants to become more interested in aspects of their culture while outside of their native country than they previously had been while residing in it.

Another draw to ACFJT for Japanese people in the Paris area were French language classes specifically designed for Japanese students. It was common to see Japanese people who were involved in either the cultural or language classes, or sometimes both, spend additional time at ACFJT outside of class times, often in the lobby and library areas, through which relationships with fellow students, and to a lesser degree, ACFJT staff, were often formed. Thus, through encouraging Japanese people to spend time at ACFJT, they were also encouraging relationships that often intersected with the TEC community and encouraging people to spend time in a Tenrikyo context, something which many would not have likely done in Japan. It was the “Japaneseness” of ACFJT and TEC that often drew non-Tenrikyo Japanese people to these centers while abroad. In this, we can see that the presence of the Japanese culture and language at ACFJT and TEC, and in the “TEC community,” served as a bridge through which to connect with (and spread the fragrance of Tenrikyo to) Japanese people who otherwise might not have been interested in participating in a Tenrikyo-based activity or learning about the faith if in their home country, despite, or because of, it being where the religion is from.

The component of ACFJT that attracted the most Japanese people living in the area were the Japanese language classes for children of at least one Japanese parent. The majority but not all of whom were bi-cultural children of Japanese mothers and French fathers. Moreover, in addition to ACFJT functioning as a language school for these children, it also served as a place of community for many of their Japanese mothers who sat in the lobby and socialized with each