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| A temple painting of a rabbit at Haedong Seongchwi Temple in Busan / Courtesy of Dale Quarrington |
By Dale Quarrington
With yet another year behind us, we have another to look forward to filled with hopes, dreams and aspirations. We've said goodbye to the Year of the Tiger in 2022, to welcome in the Year of the Rabbit in 2023. And while the rabbit certainly doesn't seem as ferocious as the tiger or as sublime as the dragon, it is a clever creature characterized by compassion and sincerity.
There are a variety of ways in which rabbits make their appearance at Korean Buddhist temples. One of these ways is through dancheong, which is a painting style that covers wooden surfaces with a variety of colors and motifs. These paint schemes can be simple or highly elaborate. The highly elaborate kind is known as geum-dancheong. And there is a subset of decorative murals called byeoljihwa, or "separate paintings" in English, that fall under this kind of geum-dancheong style. The byeoljihwa style includes flowers, birds, insects, fish and animals. In this style, when a rabbit adorns the surface of a temple shrine hall, it's meant to symbolize a creature free from evil influences. And the rabbit's long ears are a sign of longevity.
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| A Smoking Tiger painting at Deungun Temple in Yanggu County, Gangwon Province / Courtesy of Dale Quarrington |
Another way in which rabbits can be represented in temple artwork, which also falls under the byeoljihwa style of painting, is in Smoking Tiger paintings. In this style of painting, you'll find a male tiger smoking a long pipe with help from a rabbit. It's common to start Korean folktales with the phrase "Back when tigers smoked," which works similar to "Once upon a time." The tiger is meant to represent the aristocracy, while the rabbit is meant to represent commoners. What's important about this idea is that it reflects an idea of when both the aristocrats and commoners could smoke without thinking about their wealth or status, before it was outlawed by the aristocrats during the 1392-1910 Joseon Kingdom. So that's why, when people say "Back when tigers smoked," they are referring to a long, long time ago, when things were a little more egalitarian.
Yet another way that you can find rabbits at Korean Buddhist temples is in a group of 12. This group, whether they're statues or paintings, represents the zodiac animals. The zodiac has a long history in many cultures. In China, where it is believed to have originated, it predates Buddhism. The zodiac took the form of local animals that were familiar to the Chinese people. It played an integral part in their daily life, and as it moved eastward, it became integral for all those that came into contact with it, including Koreans. It played a central role in the calendar, harvesting and luck. It's no wonder, and much like the absorption of Korean shamanism, how the zodiac would soon become an integral part of Buddhism, and Korean Buddhism in particular. Buddhism, as it traveled eastward, attempted to curry favor with locals. And the zodiac would be no different.
In Korean Buddhism, the zodiac is known as the Sibiji-shin, or the Twelve Spirit Generals, who are armed with both physical power as well as compassion and virtue through Yaksayeorae-bul (the Buddha of the Eastern Paradise, also the Medicine Buddha).
Yaksayeorae-bul is also committed to relieving humans from suffering, pain and disease. In addition to relieving people's pain, Yaksayeorae-bul is also committed to helping people overcome their ignorance on their road towards enlightenment. That's why Yaksayeorae-bul promised to fulfill the Twelve Great Vows. From these promises, Yaksayeorae-bul directed the Twelve Spirit Generals to fulfill these vows. So not only do these fierce figures guard Korean Buddhist temples, they're also teachers
And one of the other ways in which you can spot rabbit at Korean Buddhist temples is a rabbit riding a turtle. This is a folktale that was absorbed into Korean Buddhism alongside the shamanic figure of the Dragon King. In this tale, the Dragon King is sick. His doctors have told him that the only way to get better is to eat a rabbit liver. The Dragon King asks all his advisers to help him, but only the humble turtle volunteers to find a rabbit for him.
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| Folktale art of the rabbit and turtle at Pyochung Temple in Gyeongsan, South Gyeongsang Province / Courtesy of Dale Quarrington |
Finally landing on the coastline of a sandy beach from the Southern Sea, the turtle approaches what he believes to be a rabbit. Confirming that this is in fact a rabbit, the turtle asks the rabbit if he wants to visit a beautiful underwater palace to see the Dragon King. The rabbit agrees but wonders how he'll swim or breathe underwater. The turtle assures him that he needn't worry, that the turtle will show him how to breathe. Also, the turtle tells the rabbit that he'll carry him upon his shell.
When the two finally reach the dragon palace and meet the Dragon King, the rabbit is instantly scared because he realizes it means his life. Quickly, and rather cleverly, the rabbit tells the Dragon King that because it's such a valuable organ, he doesn't always travel with his liver. So if only the turtle would return him to land, and his home, he would retrieve it. The Dragon King, struck by the rabbit's devotion, gives the rabbit permission to return home riding the turtle's shell, once more.
Back on land, the rabbit thanks the turtle and quickly hops off its back. As the rabbit makes his way back towards his home, he turns towards the turtle before entering the forest and says, "You don't really believe I keep my liver hidden in the forest, do you?" Surprised, and dumbstruck, the turtle responds, "What? You mean, you lied to us?" Rather smartly, the rabbit says to the turtle, "Did you think I was really going to let your stupid Dragon King cut me open and take my liver? Ha!" Quickly, the rabbit hops off into the forest never to be seen of again by the turtle.
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| Multiple painted rabbits at Naewon Hermitage in Busan / Courtesy of Dale Quarrington |
There are numerous iterations and incarnations of rabbits you can spot at Korean Buddhist temples. And hopefully in the New Year ahead, there will be just as many numerous ways for which each of our dreams and hopes will come true. And with a little caring and compassion, and a hint of the rabbit's cleverness and cunning, we can all make these dreams a reality in the year ahead. Happy New Year!
Dale Quarrington has visited over 500 temples throughout the Korean Peninsula and published three books on Korean Buddhism. He runs the popular website, "Dale's Korean Temple Adventures."
