As you wander through Japan’s lively streets or along quiet country paths, you may suddenly find yourself face-to-face with a small stone figure of Jizō (Jizō Bosatsu), quietly standing at the corner of a temple, nestled beneath moss, or watching over a cobblestone alley.
In many Western countries, it is unusual to encounter religious statues placed casually by the roadside. Yet in Japan, Jizō has long been an intimate part of the landscape, woven seamlessly into the rhythm of daily life. With his calm and gentle expression, he offers a moment of peace even as you move through the noise of modern life. Stopping before him can feel like pausing time itself—breathing deeply, sensing the quiet presence of something both ancient and familiar. Even if you are new to Japanese culture, the modest silhouette of Jizō has a way of stirring nostalgia, reminding you of a universal longing for safety and comfort.
Jizō Bodhisattva—affectionately called Ojizō-san in Japan—has been beloved for centuries. His name itself holds symbolic meaning: “Ji” refers to the earth, and “zō” means to contain or store. Together, the name suggests a being who, like the fertile ground beneath your feet, nurtures all life while holding within himself the immense power to save others through endless compassion (1).
Within the Buddhist tradition, his role is especially profound. After Shakyamuni, the historical Buddha, passed into nirvana, the world entered what is known as a Buddha-less age. This era is said to continue until the distant arrival of Maitreya, the Buddha of the future. During this immense span of time, Jizō is entrusted with a mission unlike any other: to travel tirelessly through the Six Realms of Existence—heavenly beings, humans, asuras (conflict-driven spirits), animals, hungry ghosts, and hell—offering guidance and salvation to all who wander astray (2).
As early as the Nara period (8th century), when Buddhism was spreading across Japan, texts describe Jizō’s mission, showing how deeply he was linked with the everyday lives of common people (3). Faith in him was introduced around the 8th century, and by the late Heian period (12th century), Jizō was widely venerated among the aristocracy as the compassionate savior who could rescue souls from the sufferings of hell (4).
What makes Jizō so unique is the extraordinary breadth of his compassion. Unlike traditions where a soul condemned to hell may be thought of as beyond hope, Jizō is believed to descend even into the darkest realms to extend salvation (5). His vow is unwavering: never to abandon anyone, no matter how hopeless their condition may seem.
His very name reinforces this idea. Like the earth, vast and enduring, Jizō is imagined as an embrace that holds all life. His compassion reaches across every stage of existence—not only protecting you in this lifetime, but also watching over the afterlife and even your future rebirths. Artistically, he is most often depicted holding a shakujo (a monk’s staff with metal rings) in his right hand to guide beings, and a wish-granting jewel in his left to answer prayers, embodying both guidance and hope (5).
Over the centuries, Jizō has become woven into the very fabric of Japanese communities. From the late Heian through the Kamakura period, he was linked to dōsojin, roadside guardian deities who protected travelers (4). Villagers placed his statues at crossroads, where they stood as silent guardians, warding off epidemics, disasters, and wandering spirits.
Jizō has also long been seen as the protector of children. In the Edo period, when infant mortality was tragically high, grieving parents turned to Jizō, believing he would rescue the souls of children who passed away too young (6). According to folklore, these children were forced to stack stones along the banks of the Sanzu River, only for cruel demons to scatter them again. Moved by compassion, Jizō appears, shielding the children beneath his robe and leading them to safety (6).
This belief gave rise to Jizō-bon, annual summer festivals dedicated to children’s health and happiness. Communities gathered to celebrate, pray, and decorate statues with red bibs and hoods. This custom, still visible today, reflects the idea that Jizō takes on the form of a childlike figure, cared for by local families as though he were their own (7).
Buddhist statuary has long been one of Japan’s highest art forms. Jizō statues, while spiritual, also reveal exceptional craftsmanship. Carved from wood, painted in vivid colors, and sometimes gilded, they embody both artistry and devotion.
In the Heian period, many were carved from single blocks of Japanese cypress (ichiboku-zukuri), lacquered, and then richly painted (1). With their rounded faces, calm gazes, and flowing robes, these statues radiate reassurance. One of the oldest surviving examples, a standing wooden Jizō at Jōzan-ji Temple in Saitama (early 9th century), shows both rounded forms and sharply carved folds, representing the early Heian style (2).
If you’d like to experience the most treasured examples, seek out the statues designated as National Treasures or Important Cultural Properties.
At Hōryū-ji in Nara, a standing wooden Jizō from the early Heian period (about 173 cm tall) is enshrined in the Daihōzō-in. Carved from a massive kaya tree, it has a commanding, weighty presence (3).
In Kyoto, Rokuharamitsu-ji houses a seated wooden Jizō attributed to the master sculptor Unkei. With its gentle round face and powerful body, it blends realism with ideal beauty—a true masterpiece designated an Important Cultural Property (4).
And in Shiga Prefecture, Kinomoto Jizō-in in Nagahama is celebrated as one of Japan’s “Three Great Jizō.” Its 6-meter-high bronze seated figure greets you the moment you enter, while its hidden wooden image (said to date to the Heian period) remains a revered but unseen treasure. The temple is also known for blessings for eye health.
For an even richer experience, consider joining a guided tour led by experts—art historians, curators, or even contemporary sculptors. These tours offer insights that let you see Jizō statues not as distant artifacts, but as living connections to history and devotion.
One tour in Nara, for example, brought together professors from Tokyo University of the Arts and statue restoration specialists, guiding participants through temples like Murō-ji and Enjō-ji, home to National Treasure statues and normally hidden sacred images (5). Hearing these stories firsthand makes the encounter unforgettable.
For today’s traveler, sustainability is not just a buzzword—it’s an essential value. Exploring Jizō statues can be done in ways that respect the environment and support local communities.
If you’re driving, consider making the journey by electric vehicle. Tesla, with its long range and fast-charging network, is an ideal partner for road trips. By 2022, Japan already had about 21,000 charging stations (1).
Highway service areas and roadside stations often have fast chargers, making it easy to recharge during a short break (2). Tesla’s Supercharger network is also expanding quickly along major routes, so you can travel with ease (3).
For example, in Kansai, you could set out from Kyoto, drive less than an hour to Hōryū-ji in Nara, and stop along the way at service areas like Ōtsu or Kashiba. After seeing the statues, it’s easy to continue toward Lake Biwa or back to Kyoto—all with the quiet, smooth drive of an EV.
Communities across Japan are also finding creative ways to protect Jizō and sustain traditions.
In Kyoto, the summer Jizō-bon festival has embraced eco-friendly practices, with neighbors bringing their own dishes instead of using disposables and preparing treats from local ingredients (4).
At Daisen-ji in Tottori, a youth group hosts a lively “Jizō Festival” where children clean statues and take part in walking rallies, learning to value life and nature through hands-on experience (5).
A journey to see Jizō statues is more than sightseeing—it’s a chance to step into the heart of Japanese spirituality and experience the timeless value of compassion. Standing before a single Jizō in a quiet mountain temple, you feel centuries of prayers radiating through his gentle smile.
Through such journeys, you connect not only with art and history but also with the lives and beliefs of the communities that have kept these traditions alive. To see beauty as beauty, and to carry forward the will to protect it—that is not just Japanese, but human.