Nagoya Shrine Visit Report 2025 Mizuho No.28 Momonoki Shrine

Momonoki Jinja (Mizuho Ward, Nagoya) — A Shrine in the Middle of Change

On December 18, 2025, I visited Momonoki Jinja in Mizuho Ward, Nagoya.

This area has the unmistakable outline of a manufacturing district. Nearby is Brother Industries, Ltd.—globally known for sewing machines and printers—and there is also an impressive company dormitory in the neighborhood. In addition to Brother, Paloma Co., Ltd. (gas stoves and water heaters) and TOYOTOMI CO., LTD. (well known for heaters) are also part of the local landscape. With industry woven into everyday life, I thought I was simply coming to visit a quiet shrine.

But as I got closer, something felt off. A blue excavator had entered the grounds, and the stone lanterns and guardian lion-dogs—things you would normally expect to notice immediately at a shrine—were not where they should have been.

At a glance

I bowed once at the torii gate and walked through, as I always do.
But the worship hall—the place where one should be able to pray—was not there.

There were clear track marks underfoot, and the atmosphere felt closer to a construction site than to a shrine precinct. The lanterns and lion-dogs did not look simply “gone”—it felt more like they had been removed and gathered. Stone pieces had been brought together in one area, and some upright stone elements deeper in the grounds had wooden braces attached. Was it temporary support for storage, or preparation for re-setting things in place? From what I could see, I could not tell.

I looked for an official construction notice board, but I could not find one. So I cannot say with certainty whether this is a rebuild, a relocation, or a removal.

Because this shrine appears to be managed by a neighborhood association, I can’t help but feel a quiet concern. In places where the community base is thin, the practical burden of cleaning the grounds, maintaining festivals, and sharing upkeep costs can become heavy—especially for small local shrines. And this is an industrial area; historically, it has not been a place densely filled with ordinary households.

There is also local information suggesting that the stone torii was donated by Brother Industries. If true, it adds another layer of meaning: this is not only a shrine, but also a trace of how the community and local industry once overlapped. That is why, when I saw heavy machinery inside the grounds and no worship hall to pray at, I felt a cold weight in my chest before I could tell myself, “It must be a simple renovation.”

Still, I do not want to decide that this is “the end.” The stones did not look carelessly discarded; they looked moved and held. Perhaps the shrine will be rebuilt, perhaps it will be preserved in another form, perhaps it will be carried forward somewhere else. Without a notice board, I can only describe what I saw.

One thing is certain: Momonoki Jinja is changing—right in front of our eyes. The familiar gestures of a shrine visit remained, but the place to actually pray was missing. It was a different kind of heaviness from an ordinary shrine visit.

More than a “visit,” it felt like the day I happened to witness a shrine in the middle of transformation.