It’s January 1, 1:30 in the morning. The temperature in Tokyo is just above freezing. A line of people stretches for nearly half a kilometer through the dark, slowly moving toward the lit gate of a major shrine. Most are quiet; many wear winter coats over yukata or formal clothing; food stalls along the path sell hot amazake and grilled mochi to people who have been in line for an hour. At the head of the line, the shrine itself is brightly lit, the bell-rope is being pulled by a stream of visitors, coins are being thrown into the offering box at a rate of thousands per minute. The country is starting its year, formally, by visiting a shrine.
This is hatsumode, the first shrine or temple visit of the new year, and it is one of the most universally observed practices in Japan — by some measures, the most. Tens of millions of people participate. Most major shrines see visitor counts in the millions over the first three days of January. The practice is religious in form, social in scope, and largely cultural rather than confessionally religious in actual feeling. It is, like New Year’s itself, a national pause built into the calendar.
What the word literally is
初詣 (hatsumōde / hatsumode) reads as hatsu (first) + mōde (visit, especially to a sacred place; from the verb mōderu, “to make a pilgrimage”). Literally: “first visit” — and the implicit object is a shrine or temple. The word is reserved for this specific yearly practice; it isn’t used for ordinary first visits to ordinary places.
The practice has historical roots in toshigami-related Shinto observances — the welcoming of the new year’s deity to the household and community — but the modern format of mass shrine visits in early January stabilized in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Train networks made major shrines accessible from cities; promotion by the major shrines themselves established the canonical destinations; the practice became entrenched as part of New Year’s celebrations within a few decades.
When and where
Hatsumode is conventionally performed during the first three days of January (sanganichi), with the most intense activity in the first 24 hours. Many people go just after midnight on January 1, joining the lines that have already formed; others wait until New Year’s Day morning or January 2 or 3 to avoid the crowds. By tradition, the visit should happen within the first week of the year; pushing past mid-January starts to feel late, and by the end of January, the practice is no longer hatsumode in the usual sense.
The destination matters less than the visit. Any shrine or temple is acceptable. Some people go to their local neighborhood shrine; others travel to famous national or regional ones for the prestige and atmosphere. Visitor counts are tracked at major sites:
Meiji Jingu (Tokyo) — typically the most visited, with around 3 million visitors over the three days of sanganichi.
Naritasan Shinshoji (Chiba) — about 3 million.
Kawasaki Daishi (Kanagawa) — about 3 million.
Sumiyoshi Taisha (Osaka), Atsuta Jingu (Nagoya), Fushimi Inari Taisha (Kyoto) — all in the millions.
Total combined visitor count across all shrines and temples during sanganichi is over 90 million — comparable to the entire adult population of Japan, though many people visit more than once, and not everyone goes.
What you do
The basic actions performed at a shrine during hatsumode follow standard shrine etiquette, slightly elaborated for the occasion:
Approach the main hall
You make your way through the gate (torii at Shinto shrines, sanmon at Buddhist temples), often through long lines, until you reach the main hall (haiden).
Toss a coin
You throw a coin into the offering box (saisen-bako) in front of the hall. Five-yen coins (go-en) are traditional because the word for “five yen” sounds like “good fortune” / “fated connection.” But any coin works.
Bow, clap, and pray
The standard Shinto sequence is two bows, two claps, a moment of prayer (eyes closed, mind on your wish or thanks), and one final bow. The clapping is to alert the kami (spirits) to your presence and request their attention. At Buddhist temples, the sequence is slightly different: hands together in front of you, no clapping, a simple bow.
Draw an omikuji and buy charms
After the prayer, many people draw an omikuji (fortune slip) for the year ahead — see our separate piece on omikuji for the full system. Lucky charms (omamori) are also commonly purchased — small embroidered amulets specific to particular wishes (academic success, traffic safety, health, romantic fortune, business prosperity). Old charms from the previous year are often returned to the shrine for ritual disposal at the same time.
Eat and warm up
Most major shrines have food stalls during the hatsumode period — selling amazake (sweet rice drink), grilled fish, takoyaki, hot soup, mochi, and other festival foods. Eating something warm after standing in cold weather for a long time is part of the experience. Some people make a small day of it — visit, draw fortune, eat, browse the stalls, then go home.
The non-religious participation
One of the more interesting features of hatsumode: most Japanese people who participate would not describe themselves as actively religious. Polls consistently show that majority Japanese identify as having no specific religion, yet equally strong majorities go to a shrine for hatsumode at least sometimes.
This is consistent with the broader Japanese pattern of treating Shinto and Buddhist practices as cultural-traditional rather than strictly religious. Going to a shrine doesn’t necessarily mean believing in the kami. Praying at the offering box doesn’t necessarily mean expecting divine intervention. The actions are performed seriously, with proper etiquette, but the underlying metaphysical commitment is variable, and the gap between action and belief is widely accepted within Japanese cultural practice.
The practical effect is that hatsumode functions as a cultural-civic ritual that happens to use religious infrastructure. The shrine provides the structure; the country uses it; the question of whether each visitor literally believes in what’s happening is left individual.
The crowds
Crowds at major hatsumode shrines are extraordinary. Meiji Jingu in particular routinely draws crowds dense enough to require police-managed pedestrian flow control. Lines stretch for hours at peak times. The walk from gate to offering box can take 1–2 hours if you arrive on January 1.
For visitors looking to experience the atmosphere without the maximum crowding, several strategies work:
Arrive early on January 2 or 3 — still hatsumode, much shorter lines than January 1.
Visit a smaller neighborhood shrine — same ritual, friendly local atmosphere, no waiting.
Visit a famous shrine on a weekday in mid-January — late but still acceptable, dramatically lower crowds.
Foreign visitors who want to participate are welcome. The etiquette is the same regardless of nationality, and the shrines are public spaces. Wearing relatively neat clothing is appropriate; the visit is treated with respect even by casual participants.
The principle underneath
What hatsumode does, beyond its religious form, is mark the start of the year together. Most cultures have New Year’s celebrations; few have a specific physical pilgrimage built into them, performed by tens of millions of people, occurring in roughly the same window of dates, with consistent ritual actions across regions and temples and shrines.
The practice is, in a sense, the country agreeing collectively that the year has begun. The gate is approached. The coin is tossed. The bow is performed. The prayer is silently said. The fortune is drawn. The food is eaten. The walk home in cold air is made, with a small slip of paper in the pocket and the year ahead now formally underway.
Whether the kami are real, whether the prayer was heard, whether the fortune will come true — these are questions the practice doesn’t require answers to. The act of going has been completed, the new year has been opened with the appropriate ceremony, and the country, having paused to perform the ritual together, can resume normal life. Hatsumode is what New Year’s looks like when a culture has built an actual physical destination into its calendar’s first day. The shrines have been receiving the visits for centuries. They will receive them again next January.