To be sure, Nichiren’s assertions about women’s realization of buddhahood tend to foreground the power of the Lotus Sūtra, rather than women’s capacity for buddhahood in and of itself. Unless women place faith in the Lotus, buddhahood lies beyond their reach. But because he believed that no one, male or female, could attain buddhahood through provisional teachings, his stance is hardly discriminatory. Nichiren’s core followers included several women whom, judging by his letters, he held in great respect. Unlike Śāriputra in the “Devadatta” chapter, and against notions of female pollution in his own time, Nichiren did not see the female body as filthy and on at least one occasion explicitly denied that menstrual blood is defiling. He also suggested that faith in the Lotus Sūtra might even in some sense subvert conventional gender hierarchy: “A woman who embraces this sūtra,” he wrote,” not only surpasses all other women but also surpasses all men.”

Nichiren maintained that the Lotus Sūtra enables women to attain buddhahood as women, because it embodies the mutual encompassing of the ten dharma realms. He writes: “The other Mahāyāna sūtras would seem to permit women to attain either buddhahood or birth in the pure land [of Amitābha], but that is an attainment premised on changing their [female] form, not the direct manifestation of buddhahood grounded in the three thousand realms in a single thought-moment. Thus, it is an attainment of buddhahood or pure land birth in name but not reality. The nāga girl represents the ‘one example that applies to all.’ Her attainment of buddhahood opened the way for the attainment of buddhahood … by all women of the latter age.”

Nichiren wrote that the gohonzon represents the Lotus assembly “as accurately as the print matches the woodblock.” On it, all ten realms, even the lowest ones, are represented. We find the belligerent asura king; the dragon king, representing the animal realm; the demon Hāriti (J. Kishimojin); even the Buddha’s malicious cousin Devadatta, who tried to kill him on multiple occasions; and Devadatta’s patron, King Ajātaśatru, who murdered his father and supported Devadatta in his evil schemes. As Nichiren wrote, “Illuminated by the five characters of the daimoku, all ten realms assume their inherent enlightened aspect.” We might interpret this as reflecting Nichiren’s message that, through the chanting of the daimoku, even life’s harsh, ugly, and painful parts — the most adverse circumstances, or the darkest character flaws — can be transformed and yield something of value, becoming opportunities to further religious development.

[T]he Lotus Sūtra seems to urge giving one’s life in its service. Bodhisattvas in the “Perseverance” chapter vow that they “will not be attached to our bodies or lives,” and the “Lifespan” chapter says that the primordial Śākyamuni Buddha will appear before those beings who “are willing to give unsparingly of their bodies and their lives.” How should such passages be understood?

Nichiren addresses this issue in a letter to a disciple, the lay nun Myōichi-ama, expressing sympathy on the death of her husband, who had held fast to his faith despite great difficulties: “Your late husband gave his life for the Lotus Sūtra. His small landholding that barely sustained him was confiscated on account of [his faith in] the Lotus Sūtra. Surely that equaled ‘giving his life.’ The youth of the Snow Mountains [described in the Nirvāṇa Sūtra] offered his body in exchange for half a verse [of a Buddhist teaching], and the bodhisattva Medicine King [Bhaiṣajyarāja] burned his arms [in offering to the Buddha]. They were saints, [and for them, such acts were] like water poured on fire. But your husband was an ordinary man, [and so for him, this sacrifice was] like paper placed in fire. When we take this into consideration, his merit must surely be the same as theirs.”