Good afternoon, everyone. First, I would like to offer a memorial greeting for the 115th anniversary of Japanese immigration to Brazil.

Today, at this memorial service for immigrants: “A Gathering to Remember the Japanese Who Migrated to Brazil,” we pay tribute to those who, with courage and determination, left their distant homeland to build a new life in this country and faced an unknown world. We honor our ancestors by learning from their achievements and passing them on to future generations. May we nurture the seeds they left in our hearts—humility, patience, diligence, and cooperation—to build a bright future for the next generation. We express our deepest gratitude.

Now, I would like to share a story about the teachings of the Jodo Shinshu school.

Today, I will introduce a story from Rev. Tokunaga, former Head of the Kangaku-ryo (School of Buddhist Studies) of the Jodo Shinshu Honganji-ha. The Kangaku-ryo is an institution that evaluates whether the writings of the Head Priest are doctrinally correct and gathers the most respected scholars within the sect.

Some may think that lectures by such a teacher are very difficult, but Rev. Tokunaga’s stories are always gentle, clear, and wonderful. Let me introduce this story, which took place at Rev. Tokunaga’s home.

In the garden of his home in Kyoto, there is a pond with about twenty koi carp. Every year in early summer, the koi lay many eggs, but most of them are eaten as eggs or fry. By autumn, only two or three appear from the shadows of the rocks or plants. It is truly sad to think that most of the hundreds or thousands born are devoured.

Therefore, this year, I scooped up the palm fibers where the eggs were laid and moved them to another tank. I was nervous that the change in environment might kill them all. However, a few nights later, when I looked into the tank with a flashlight, I was astonished. Instead of perishing, hundreds of two-millimeter-long fry had hatched. I was overwhelmed by the mystery of life nurtured by nature.

After a while, the fry grew too large for that tank, but they could not be released back into the original pond yet; they would be eaten by the adult fish immediately. So, I released them into a large plastic pond a few days ago. They are growing at different rates, but for now, they are all swimming healthily.

What I want to say here is not that I saved the lives of hundreds of fry that would have otherwise disappeared. My current thought is the opposite: that perhaps I did something unnecessary. If I were to wait until they were large enough to return to the original pond, the ecosystem of the pond would be destroyed in an instant because of the hundreds of new koi. Introducing hundreds of fish to the existing twenty would likely lead to the demise of everyone, including the original fish.

My good intention to save the lives of the fry that would have surely disappeared has now created a problem that could lead to collapse. Perhaps my action, which I believed to be well-intentioned, was merely a fragile humanism when viewed under the laws of nature.

In short, the affection I felt for the fry was one-sided, and I did not realize that it was accompanied by a shadow. The laws of nature are also at work in my garden pond, and my action, however well-intentioned, ignored those natural laws.

Through this experience, I grasped the true intention of Shinran Shonin, who showed us that our shallow calculations, which add our own thoughts to the mysterious working of the Primal Vow, are invalid.

I believe the Shonin admonished us that whether we think we cannot be saved or that we will be fine because we have listened to the Nembutsu, our selfish calculations are always accompanied by shadows. Beyond any gain or loss I can imagine, the Great Compassion of the Primal Vow reaches me with a light without shadows—that is, a light without calculations.

The teacher shared this story to show that even when we think our actions are good, they are not necessarily “good from every perspective.” The fundamental philosophy of Buddhism is to look at things objectively from all perspectives to understand their true nature. This is why the founder, Shakyamuni Buddha, left so many teachings in the sutras. In Jodo Shinshu, we value understanding the essence of things through the life of our founder, Shinran Shonin. There is the “principle of cause and effect,” where we calmly observe that every result has a cause.

In other words, we do not rely on groundless prayers or fortune-telling. Furthermore, we do not attribute our conveniences or inconveniences to gods or spirits. Living in harmony with the reality of the world as it is, based on these principles, is the spirit of Jodo Shinshu and the “pride of the Monto” (disciples) that your ancestors have passed down through generations to this land of South America. I hope that sharing this story will be an opportunity for us living in modern society to reflect on various things.

By the way, what happened to the koi in this story? When I met Rev. Tokunaga personally, I asked, “Do you have any questions?” Although it was unrelated to the lecture, I asked him. He told me they were released into the Kamo River in the city at night. I do not know if it was right or wrong. If it was wrong, it means the sect is responsible for affecting the Kyoto ecosystem, so please keep it a secret. I will end my sermon here.