My strange and unexpected encounter with Kenshōkai

I am a gay man in his late 20s who recently moved to Japan. I’ve been using some of the dating apps, and via Bumble, I connected with a Japanese young man (30 years old) from Saitama prefecture and chatted with him in Japanese. Our chat conversation wasn’t too extensive, but he was polite and courteous and asked if I wanted to meet at Ikebukuro station on an evening during the long weekend. The timing worked for me, and I hadn’t yet been on a date with a Japanese man, and he looked attractive enough to me from his photos, so I was happy to dip my toes in the dating scene and see how things would turn out. I was a little nervous since although I’ve passed the JLPT N2, I’m a little out of practice with the language, so wondered if we’d face any language barriers, although I’m generally able to navigate with my level of language proficiency. I fully expected this to be either a date or just a friendly encounter. If nothing worked out, hey, at least I’d be able to get some conversation practice! I presumed that Ikebukuro must be a convenient location to meet since it is connected to trains from Saitama.

I eventually found him at Ikebukuro station and started talking to him. Within half a minute he pointed me to his car, and asked me to sit in it. I was a little surprised since I’d presumed he’d come via train. When I sat in the back seat of the car, I discovered that there was another young man in the front passenger seat. It was all happening so fast, that I couldn’t fully process it, and was just taken aback! The two of them cracked some joke with me. Then, the guy whom I met asked me if I knew of Hotoke sama and had heard of the chant of Nam Myoho Renge Kyo. I was a little surprised, and after a moment’s hesitation I was like, “Yes, my mother chants it everyday.” He was very shocked that a visibly non-Japanese person like me knew about it, and that my mother, who lives in a different Asian country (culturally very different and distinct from Japan) chants it. I then told him that my family were members of SGI (I used the abbreviation instead of “Sōka Gakkai”). He said that he hadn’t heard of SGI, but in the course of the conversation, I think he realized that it was Soka Gakkai International, and he was like “Oh, it’s international too?”

He asked me if I’d like to go to a particular temple to practice, but I said that I didn’t want to (and was quite firm), and that instead, I’d rather just get a meal with them and chat. So he drove a few blocks, and we ended up getting a meal at Mos Burger.

The three of us eventually each bought our meals and found tables to chat at. At first, they had a general jocular conversation and involved me, and asked me general questions about myself. I did share general information about myself, though I tried to not be too specific. In retrospect, I wonder if I shared too much with them.

In the course of conversation, they tried to convince me about the merits of their religious organization (Kenshōkai) and their religious teacher, and why Soka Gakkai and Daisaku Ikeda are wrong. They were surprised and impressed with the extent of my knowledge of Nichiren Buddhist terms and doctrine. Their religious solicitation was persistent, and they kept spouting the merits/benefits of their organization and would then say 「じゃ、やろうか？」and「行こうか？」(to their temple) but I stalled or declined and instead kept the conversation going by asking them various questions, sharing my own opinions and thoughts about Buddhism, and mildly defending Sōka Gakkai and Daisaku Ikeda from their accusations. They kept telling me that the Gohonzon (object of worship) of Soka Gakkai was wrong/fake, and that Daisaku Ikeda had deviated from the correct path of Nichiren Buddhism, and was only interested in constructing buildings rather than spreading the correct teaching of Nichiren Daishonin and that he was self-satisfied to have spread Nichiren Buddhism to 8 million Japanese. I’m not sure if my knowledge of Buddhism served as a shield against their proselytizing efforts, or whether it persuaded them to proselytize to me even further.

I think they eventually realized that their efforts were futile. When I stated that I wouldn’t leave the SGI and that my family and I deeply respected Daisaku Ikeda, the guy said 「かわいそう」- that although I knew so much about Buddhism/Nichiren Buddhism, I was still not acquiescing to their viewpoint. They gave me their religious pamphlet (the one with Mount Fuji on it, which are sometimes randomly distributed at train stations or public places).

I learned that the aim of Kenshōkai as a religious movement/cult is to convert all Japanese people to their organization, and eventually construct a kokuritsu kaidan (国立戒壇）so that Japan will be saved. They kept pointing to earthquakes and pandemics as a sign of the world’s problems, and then shared with me a picture of the apartment of a believer in Tohoku who was miraculously saved during the 2011 earthquake/tsunami.

I wonder if as a foreigner, I was an easy target.

I eventually parted ways with them on polite terms. In retrospect, I wonder if I was too polite through the entire conversation!

I have an active imagination, and although there were moments in the beginning when I wondered if I would be kidnapped or was unsafe, I didn’t feel too unsafe, since we were near Ikebukuro station, which is generally crowded (and especially on that evening over the long weekend!).

I’ve since shared the experience with various friends, including those with extensive academic knowledge about Japan or with more lived experience here than me, and they said that the entire encounter was fraudulent! That they hid their motives, and that it was very problematic.

As I think back to the encounter, I don’t even know if the guy I met was gay 😅 There was nothing to suggest any interest in friendship or romance, and the entire encounter was basically a religious solicitation.

Funnily enough, this was my second religious solicitation over the long weekend 😅 On a different day of the weekend, a woman gave me and another foreigner friend English language brochures of a group called Sukyo Mahikari, haha.

I don’t even know what the lesson of this encounter was! I’d still be happy to meet up with people whom I match with on dating apps or even go on a blind date, especially if I meet them at a public place.

TL;DR: What I expected to be a date or friendly encounter, as I dipped my toes into gay dating/expanding my circle of friends as a relative newcomer to Japan turned out to be an attempt to convert me to a “new religious movement”/cult called “Kenshokai.” No particular “red flag” signs to be wary of, prior to meeting.