— A black altar I never asked for, a temple that said no, and a phone call I dreaded.
How do you throw away a Japanese Buddhist family altar? In Japan, the temple may refuse if your family’s sect is different from theirs. I went through this when my parent died. The answer was three steps: ask the temple (rejected), call the religious organization to return the deity, and pay a butsudan shop 10,800 yen. Here is what happened.
A black altar I never asked for
My parent was a member of a large Buddhist organization in Japan. I was not. I did not ask to be, and they did not ask me to join. By the time I was old enough to understand religion, there was already a heavy black altar in our living room. It looked nothing like the wooden altars I saw in other houses. It was darker, taller, more serious. I felt uneasy around it as a child, the way a child feels uneasy around a thing that has rules he does not know.
Inside the altar, at the center, was a sacred scroll. Years later, I learned that it was not really ours. It was on loan from the religious organization. We were keepers of it, not owners. That detail mattered, although I would not know how much until my parent was gone.
I refused the religious funeral my parent wanted
My parent had said for years, plainly, that the funeral should be done by the organization. No traditional Buddhist priest. Just the members, chanting together. That was the wish.
I refused. I was not a member. I did not know the chant. I did not feel I had the right to stand in a room where everyone else was holding something I did not hold. We had a small Buddhist funeral with a regular temple priest instead. I still think it was the right call. The dead person cannot say what they need anymore. The living have to do something they can stand inside.
Step 1: I asked the temple. They said no.
After the funeral, I asked the priest who had performed the service if he would take the altar away. Dispose of it properly. Burn it ceremonially, the way old altars are usually retired in Japan.
He said no.
Not rudely. Just clearly. The altar was made for a different sect. His temple could not handle it. He did not have permission, in a sense, to send it off in a ceremony that did not match the object. I had not thought about this. I had assumed a Buddhist altar was a Buddhist altar. In Japan, that is not how it works. Sects matter. Especially when the altar belongs to one and the priest belongs to another.
Step 2: I called the religious organization to return the scroll
At first I did not know who to contact. But I knew a classmate of mine was a member, because he had delivered the Seikyo Shimbun, the organization newspaper, to us. We had subscribed to it, and I had canceled it when my parent went into the hospital. Through that connection, I reached the local person in charge. I told them my parent had died, and that I wanted to return the scroll. They were professional about it. Polite, even. Later, two people from the organization, a man and a woman, came to the house. They bowed carefully before and after they removed the scroll, and then they carried it away. No one blamed me for anything.
The altar stayed. Empty now, but still standing in the living room. Heavy and black and waiting.
Step 3: A butsudan shop took it for 10,800 yen
The last step was the easiest, even though I had been dreading it. I called a butsudan shop, the kind that sells and services Buddhist altars. I explained the situation. They knew exactly what to do. They came, wrapped the altar, carried it out, and charged me 10,800 yen.
I sat in the empty corner of the living room afterward. I will be honest. I was glad it was gone. It belonged to an organization that had nothing to do with me. I could never bring myself to pray to it every morning.
What this story shows about Japan
If you are reading this from outside Japan, some of this will sound strange. A temple refusing to dispose of an altar. A religious organization sending someone to retrieve a sacred object. A shop that specializes in taking away furniture you cannot throw out in the normal trash.
It is strange. But it is also how it is. In Japan, religion and family and household furniture are tangled together in ways that take decades to untangle when someone dies. There is no single hotline. No simple receipt. You learn by calling, being told no, calling someone else.
I did not have a guide for this. I am writing it now because someone else might.
FAQ
What is a butsudan?
A butsudan is a Japanese Buddhist family altar, usually kept in the home. It holds memorial tablets for deceased family members and a sacred image or scroll. Many Japanese households have one.
Why did the temple refuse to dispose of my parents altar?
Different Buddhist sects in Japan use different altar styles. A priest from one sect may not have the authority or training to retire an altar belonging to another sect. Sect matters, especially for sacred objects.
What is a gohonzon, and why did it have to be returned?
The gohonzon is the central sacred scroll of certain Buddhist organizations. It is often on loan to members, not owned outright. When the member dies, the family may be expected to return it to the organization.
How much does it cost to dispose of a butsudan in Japan?
It varies. In my case, a butsudan shop charged 10,800 yen, which is roughly 70 to 80 US dollars. The cost depends on size, location, and any additional ceremony requested.
— Me-me
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