(August 14th is Obon) Why do our ancestors come home during Obon?
—The gentle heart of the Japanese people, embodied in the welcoming fires, farewell fires, and spirit horses—
When summer vacation arrives, more people return to their hometowns.
Some open the door to their childhood home for the first time in a while.
Some visit the graves of their ancestors with their families.
Some press their hands together in prayer before the family altar.
And along with such scenes, we are reminded of "Obon."
"When Obon comes, our ancestors return home."
Many of us likely heard such stories when we were children.
We light a welcoming fire, invite them into our homes, and prepare meals and offerings.
And finally, we light a farewell fire to send them on their way again.
But when you stop to think about it, it is quite mysterious.
Why have the Japanese people believed that their ancestors "come home"?
In this article, let us trace the heart behind the Japanese Obon, starting from such a simple question.
1. What kind of day is Obon, anyway?

Obon is an important Japanese event for honoring deceased ancestors and family members.
One of its origins is considered to be the Buddhist event known as "Urabon."
This was transmitted to Japan and, while intertwining with long-standing customs of cherishing ancestors, it developed into the Obon culture we know today.
While the timing and customs vary by region, it is generally held around August 13th to 16th.
Visiting graves, making offerings at the family altar, and lighting welcoming and farewell fires.
Each of these customs has its own meaning.
However, the core of Obon might be unexpectedly simple.
It is,
"Remembering those who were dear to us."
And,
Welcoming them by saying, "Please come home again this year."
2. Why do our ancestors "come home"?

A major characteristic of Obon is that we do not think of the deceased only as "beings in a distant world."
When Obon arrives, our ancestors return home.
Such a way of thinking has been passed down in various parts of Japan since long ago.
Families welcome their ancestors, prepare offerings, and spend time together.
And when Obon ends, they send them off once again.
When you think about it, it is a very warm custom.
Instead of ending our relationship with the deceased by thinking of them as
"people we can no longer meet,"
we welcome them as
"people who will come home again this year."
In this, we can feel the heart of the Japanese people, who do not let the connection with the deceased fade away easily.
Even if their physical form is gone, memories remain within the family.
Their catchphrases.
Their smiles.
The food they loved.
The summer days spent together.
Obon is likely a time to bring such memories back to life within the family once more.
3. The welcoming fire was a "landmark" for our ancestors

One of the customs performed at the beginning of Obon is the "welcoming fire" (mukaebi).
At dusk, we light a fire at the gate or entrance of the house to welcome our ancestors.
People in the past thought of this fire as a landmark for their ancestors to find their way home.
"We are over here."
It is a small light that signals the location of the house in that way.
The town at dusk.
A small fire flickering in front of the house.
The family quietly watching that fire.
There, one could find the scenery of a Japanese summer from long ago.
Of course, lighting a fire does not mean we can actually see our ancestors.
Even so,
by watching the fire while thinking,
"I wonder if they have come home,"
we were likely able to feel our deceased family members close to us.
The welcoming fire is not just a custom.It may have been a small signal from the family saying, "Welcome home."
4. Cucumber horses and eggplant cows—wishes placed in spirit horses

When Obon arrives, you may see cucumbers and eggplants with chopsticks or similar items stuck into them to resemble horses and cows. These are called "spirit horses" (shoryou-uma).
Why cucumbers and eggplants?
Generally, the cucumber is likened to a "horse" and the eggplant to a "cow."
And it is said that these wishes are placed within them.
Ride the cucumber horse to come home as quickly as possible.
And ride the eggplant cow to return as slowly as possible when leaving.
While customs and meanings differ by region, one can feel a truly human kindness in this way of thinking.
I want to see you soon.
But I don't want you to rush when you leave.
If possible, I want to be with you a little longer.
Such feelings of the family are placed into these small animals made of summer vegetables.
5. The farewell fire is a light for "next year"

Obon does not end just by welcoming our ancestors.
At the end, we light an 'okuribi' (send-off fire) to see our ancestors off as they return.
There are various ways to send them off depending on the region, such as the Gozan no Okuribi in Kyoto.
If the mukaebi (welcome fire) is a light that says 'welcome back,' then the okuribi might be a light that says,
'See you next year.'
Thank you for coming back.
I was happy to spend time with you.
Please come back again next year.
Watching the fire grow smaller in the twilight, perhaps people in the past held those same thoughts.
There is a 'farewell' during Obon.
However, it is not an eternal farewell.
It is a farewell made with the belief that 'we will meet again.'
That is why, even if it is a little lonely, it is somehow warm.
6. Bon Odori was also a scene of Obon

When summer nights arrive, Bon Odori (Bon dances) are held in neighborhood associations and local plazas.
People gather under the light of paper lanterns wearing yukata, forming a circle and dancing to the sound of drums.
Nowadays, it is cherished as a fun scene of summer festivals.
However, Bon Odori originally developed as a dance with the meaning of memorializing and comforting the ancestors who returned for Obon.
Thinking of it that way, a slightly different meaning can be seen in that large circle.
The dancers.
The spectators.
The children.
The elderly.
And the ancestors, who are invisible but thought to have returned there.
A summer night where everyone spends time together.
Bon Odori may have been a time for the living and the departed to spend together.
7. Obon is a day to connect family memories

Nowadays, the way we spend Obon has changed significantly.
Some people return to their hometowns, while others spend it quietly at home.
There are also those who cannot return to their hometowns due to work.
There are also those who find it difficult to visit graves.
But perhaps the true meaning of Obon does not lie only in a fixed form.
Putting your hands together in front of the Buddhist altar.
Opening old photo albums.
Talking about memories of the deceased with family.
'Grandpa was this kind of person, wasn't he?'
'We had this happen back then, didn't we?'
Just by having such conversations, memories that were about to be forgotten are passed on to the next generation.
Thinking of it that way, Obon might be a day to remember the deceased, and at the same time,
a day to remember where you came from.
Conclusion

Is there anyone coming back this Obon?
Do you ever remember the faces of those you can no longer meet?
Even if you don't light a welcome fire.
Even if you don't make a spirit horse.
Even if you can't return to your hometown.
The moment you suddenly think of that person, in your heart, you might be saying,
'Welcome back.'
Obon is not just a day to welcome the deceased.
It is a day to not forget your loved ones.
And a day to pass on family memories to the next generation.
I think such a gentle meaning is embedded in the idea of 'coming back' that people in the past cherished.
This year's Obon.
If you happen to remember a loved one, why not quietly say to them in your heart, 'Thank you for coming back.'
And when they return—say, 'See you next year.'
That is how people will likely continue to quietly pass on their connection with the deceased. (Text: Fuuta Chisato)



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