Eschatolog

Unconditional love?

David Brazier — 2012-05-19T19:24:18+02:00

Take the issue of unconditional love. Is unconditional love a reality? Objection: Love requires an object, and an object is a condition. Possible solutions: (1) Love without an object - is this a contradiction of terms? (2) Love without condition as to object, i.e. universal love. Objection: Does love not create conflicts of interest? To love a specific object may be to defend it against others. Possible solution: For love to be unconditional the lover needs to have sufficient wisdom to act in a way that is optionally beneficial to all beings.
This solution depends upon believing that there is a "good" that is best for all and that even if this results in the destruction of some individuals it is actually best for those individuals in such a situation to be destroyed. That is to say, it implies a view of the universe inwhich there are no fundamental conflicts of interest - what is good in an ultimate sense is good for all and the corollary is that sometimes it can be good to be sacrificed.
The alternative is to believe that there are in reality conflicts of interest, that the universe is actually a place of conflict and conflict is real. What is for the good of one is not necessarily or always for the good of all others. This, of course, accords with common sense, though common sense is not always a good guide to ultimate truth.

The four daughters of wholeness

David Brazier — 2012-05-15T20:34:00+02:00

Eschatalog has been dormant for a few years. The world didn't end, so I'm resuscitating and revamping it. This is a place to discuss the purpose of it all, beginnings and ends, eternity, the questions of wholeness and ultimacy. This does not have to be abstract. For instance, why are wars becoming fewer and economic crises more severe? Does this have anything to do with impending eco-disaster? Does it matter? Does anything matter? What does God think about it? Would/does he think about it?

Recently I have been thinking a good deal about wholeness. Meaning comes from situating information (in the broadest sense) within a larger frame. For the frame itself to be meaningful it must itself fit within something larger. Eventually you get to eternity, infinity, original mind and unconditional love, which are, perhaps, the four daughters of wholeness.

Intuitively, I feel that eternity is the eldest daughter. Time precedes all and probably succeeds all as well. One can imagine time in which nothing happens but one cannot imagine anything or nothing happening without time. So time is closest to ultimacy (and so is the first and not the fourth dimension). Time generates being (and non-being) and so we have space to infinity and once we have these two we can have meaning, so I guess mind is the third in line. Meaning generates beauty (and ugliness), and so love arises, and with it bliss and despair and the longing to return to wholeness. Thus there is the unquenchable thirst which can issue as delusion or enlightenment.

This kind of thinking is out of fashion, which is one reason why I'm doing it, I guess. So if you want to chat about ultimacy or log onto eternity, come and join me.

Death of a Killer

David Brazier — 2006-06-10T10:12:11+02:00

How should a Buddhist feel about the death of a person like Abu Musab al-Zarqawi? The worldly attitude is to say good riddance. This man organised the killing of large numbers of mostly civilian people in Iraq and now he too has been violently destroyed by an American bomb. Many promient people have expressed satisfaction.

Buddhists, however, have a different attitude because they have a different background theory about how the world works. Just as physicists wil ltell us that the destruction of the physical body by fire does not actually eliminate the matter nor the energy that, when conjoined in a certain pattern, constituted that body, so Buddhists believe that the moral force of a life is not destroyed by the mere physical death of the person who embodied that force. Karma is the equivalent in the moral domain of the law of conservation of energy in the physical one. Zarqawi's karma continues. Whether it will reassemble into a recognisable human personality package is an open question, but destroying the evil doer does not eliminate the evil from our world.

When the Buddha meets a mass murderer he does everything he can to convert him into a harmless one, just as he does with anybody else. Buddhas are not gods. They are inspiring and persuasive, but they do not create the universe nor can they miraculously change a person against that person's will. They seek rather to rouse a new gathering of the person's faith.

Zarqawi did not have much of a life. Starting off as a small time criminal he got swept to prominence by being caught by a big wave. That wave was the need of the USA to find some shred of credibility to support their completely false pretention that there was a direct link between Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden in order to shore up their case for the illegal invasion of Iraq. By naming Zarqawi as the link person (apparently without any evidence) at the United Nations, Colin Powell thrust Zarqawi into the limelight. Now, three years later they have killed him. This would all seem like a sick joke if so many other people had not also been killed along the way. As it is it is just to grievous for anybody to laugh.

The world will not be free of the karma of Zarqawi until all those who helped to make him into the symbol and the disaster that he was learn to be harmless ones and there is no immediate prospect of that. Zarqawi still walks this earth in the skins of all those who made him what he was. Some of them live in the Middle East and some in Western capitals. None of us is entirely innocent.

Buddha Makes a Point

David Brazier — 2006-04-09T13:28:38+02:00

A correspondent recently sent me a piece he had written in which he tries to make some sense of the supposedly Buddhist concept of "non-duality". It was a pretty good effort, but the task is a thankless one.

Thank you for your piece of writing. Struggling with the meaning of "non-duality" is a pretty impossible task. Meaning requires contrast - this, not that - so it is pretty difficult to have a non-dualistic meaning or have non-duality mean something. It is a bit like the sentence "This sentence is not true, is it?" If you say yes it is not true, then it is true but if you say no then it must be true. Introducing non-duality into logic creates a non-tenable situation. The result is that a huge amount of non-sense is nowadays spoken and attributed to Buddha. If you say anything to characterise non-duality, then what you say is bound to rely upon some contast and so can be condemned as dualistic. But then, condemning is dualistic too, so the whole project is hopeless.

The Buddha Shakyamuni taught that the distinguishing marks of an Awakened One are that he does not kill, steal or engage in any kind of corupt or unethical practice. Awakening consists in such right behaviour. This is what cuts off the root of becoming. We are what we do. All action is performed, as we say, in a certain spirit. Action is first in significance, spirit second and words come third as a description of spirit. Since the Buddha has a perfectly clean spirit, his spirit is "invisible to devas", thus it says, "As long as the body subsists, devas and humans will see him, but at the breaking up of the body and the exhaustion of the life-span, devas and humans will see him no more" (Digh Nikaya 1, Brahmajala-sutta, penultimate verse). It is interesting to note that this does not mean that he ceases to exist, simply that his spirit is not visible. It also implies that, in the case of we unenlightened beings, our spirit does show - it is not invisible.

Buddha thus made some quite clear distinctions. Was he being dualistic? We would have to say that there are many different dualities and the Buddha was certainly willing to speak in terms of some of them. He condemned some views and praised others. He condemned some behaviours and advocated others. He was not neutral.

The reason people like the idea of non-duality is that they think it will result in non-contention and non-anger and non-conflict. This is a mistake. It results in hidden contention. It suppresses the debate, but this does not make the issues of life go away. The Buddha's discourses are contentious. He had something to say and it involved challenging and rejecting other things said by other people. He also did not like being misquoted. Here is the Buddha reprimanding a monk called Arittha who has misrepresented the teachings: "Misguided man, to whom have you ever known me to teach the Dhamma in that way? Misguided man, in many discourses have I not stated how obstructive things are obstructions and how they are able to obstruct one who engages in them? I have stated [repetition of his teaching on sensual restraint]. I have taught this with the simile of the skeleton, the simile of.. [lists 10 similes].. but you, misguided man, have misrepresented us by your wrong grasp and injured yourself and stored up much demerit; this will lead to your harm and suffering for a long time." (Majjhima Nikaya 22, Alagaddupama-sutta, early part). The Buddha then tells the other monks that Arittha has not got a spark of wisdom in him! I would not have liked being told off by the Buddha, I think!

He was particularly strong on ethics. Thus he says,
"Others will be cruel, we shall not be cruel here -
Effacement should be practised thus;
Others will go killing, we shall not be killing here -
Effacement should be practiced thus;
Others will be stealing, we shall not be stealing here -
Effacement should be practiced thus;
Others will be licentious, we shall not be licentious here -
Effacement should be practiced thus;
Others will speak falsely, we shall not speak falsehood here -
Effacement should be practiced thus;
Others speak maliciously, we shall not speak malice here -
Effacement should be practiced thus;
Others will speak harshly, we shall not speak harshly here -
Effacement should be practiced thus;
Others will spread gossip, we shall not speak gossip here -
Effacement should be practiced thus;
and so on for a total of 44 points. (Majjhima Nikaya 8, Sallekha-sutta)

The idea that Buddhism is non-contentious seems to be very wide of the mark. What is true is that Buddha renounced killing and fighting, but he certainly did not renounce arguing. Skill in argument was regarded as a skill of great importance at the time of Buddha and throughout the next thousand years and more of Buddhist history. There are extensive works on logic and argument. Great figures like Vasubandhu were counted great because of their skill in argument.

I am very concerned that the current fashion for "non-duality" not undermine these essential features of Buddha's teaching. If we are not allowed to say that this is right and that wrong and say why and defend our position, then we are not allowed to act as the great exemplars of our tradition have always done. It is not agument that should be condemned, but unprincipled argument - what Shakyamuni calls "eel-wriggling argument". The Buddha put his message very clearly. He did say that when other criticise it we should avoid etting angry about that, but the reason we should avoid getting angry is not that one view is as valid as another, it is that when one is angry one cannot clearly discern what is true and what is false (Digh Nikaya 1, early part).

Buddha was also, like a good logician, keen on getting people to define their terms. Here is an example:
Potthapada asks: "Is perception a person's self or is perception one thing and self another?"
Buddha: "Well, what are you falling back upon as "self" here?"
P: "A gross self - material, made of four elements, that feeds on solid food."
B: "With such a self, perception would be one thing and self another. You can see that in such a self perceptions come and go, so self must be one thing and perception another."
P: "How about a formless self?"
B: "Even with a formless self, self would be one thing and percption another [for similar reason]"
P: "How can I know the real truth of this matter....?"
B: "It is difficult for one of different view, different faith, under a different influence, with a different aim and different training to understand this."
Potthapada then raises a series of further questions about whether the world is eternal or not, infinite or not, whether the soul is the same as the body or not, and whether the Tathagata exists after death or not. The Buddha says that he does not declare views on those matters. Potthapada asks why and the Buddha says that he only teaches on the matters that are actually conducive to the goal of the spiritual life.
P: "Well, what do you declare, then?"
B: "I declare [the Four Noble Truths] because this is the path of dukkha-nirodha [which is the meaning of the spiritual life]."
Later the Buddha gives further explanation of this to Potthapada. He says that some things are ascertainable and other things are not and it is important to focus upon what matters and not waste time on what does not matter. In the course of this explanation, however, he gives, by way of example, an account of a discussion he had himself had with an exponant of another view. In this example, the Buddha is pretty argumentative!
Buddha: "Some believe that after death the soul is entirely happy. I approached one such and confirmed that that was his teching and I said, 'Is this world a completely happy place?' - he said 'no'; so I said, 'well, have you ever experienced a single day or night that was entirely happy?' and he said 'no'; . so i said, 'well, have you got it from the gods, then, that they live in an entirely happy place?' - and he said 'no' again, so, what do you think, Potthapada, doesn't what these people say turn out to be stupid?" and he goes on to explain that:
B: "I teach a doctrine for getting rid of the gross self... the mind-acquired self... the formless acquired self... [without which] nothing but happiness and delight develops."

So, we see here that Buddha does propose positive arguments and defends them and demolishes other viewpoints and rebukes in no uncertain terms those who misrepresent him. He asks for definition of terms and is willing to make logical statements based on those definitions that represent his point of view accurately. He is precise and good at argument. He is also not willing to be led away into arguments about things that are not essential to his point.

Buddha's points are:
1. The idea of self gives rise to unwholesome spirt and hence unwholesome action, so get rid of self.
2. Whether the world is eternal, non-eternal, finite or infinite does not affect the argument.
3. We have to address the existential situation of dukka, samudaya, and discover the possibility of nirodha, marga.
4. Point 3 must boil down to the same thing as point 1
5. Ethical behaviour is an all important outcome

So, to imitate Buddha, in relation to non-duality, one would get people to define what they mean and then respond clearly using their definitions, often in ways that show up that the definition is inadequate, all the while imparting the important points - non-self, nirodha, ethics.

Namo Amida Bu

Carried Away by the Samadhi of Equality

David Brazier — 2006-02-10T19:00:52+01:00

What is the meaning of equality in Buddhism? What does the samadhi of equality indicate? On the one hand we are inclined to see spirituality as a mountain to climb, but at the same time, we read that, in the Pure Land, there are no such mountains. On the blog Beneath the Clouds there is an item called "Equal to Enlightenment". This is

a reflection upon a class given by Prof. Sato (a patron of Amida Trust and priest of Three Wheels Temple, London) on the Tannisho verse that says "We attain Equivalent Enlightenment and then realise Great Nirvana. This is due to the fulfilment of Amida's Prayer in which he vowed to let us attain Nirvana without fail." Shinran Shonin is saying that a person of pure faith is equivalent to an arhat, or is like Maitreya, the Buddha who will come in the future.

In commenting further on this verse, I would like to lay some stress on the term "equivalent". In the Larger Pureland Sutra it talks about the samadhi of equality. Faith enables one to dwell in such a samadhi. While we are thinking "vertically" we assume that Buddhas are "on high" and we are lowly. Those with a Judeo-Christian background may be particularly vulnerable to this way of thinking. The samadhi of equality, by contrast, suggests a horizontalization. On the other hand, the European and North American social tradition also has its own strong concept of equality as a foundation for democracy, yet this may not really correspond with the kind of equivalence that the Sutra and Shinran are referring to either. Drawing on our background resources does not, therefore, necessarily inform us quite what it is that Pureland Buddhism is trying to say.

What does Shan Tao mean when he asserts that the heart of the person of shinjin already and always resides in the Pure Land? The Pure Land of Amida, where there is complete spiritual equality, is the home by "naturalization" of all those who have obtained a passport to it by entering into prasada (shinjin, faith). The idea that what faith does is to make us belong to the PL coupled with the principle that there is the samadhi of equality in the PL surely, therefore, helps us to gain a deeper sense of what prasada is. What is this faith that is so central to PL? What does it look like?

A person who has this kind of faith is, in some respects, like an innocent. An innocent will speak to another person in a simple direct way, whether that person is high or low. An innocent will not be hypocritical. An innocent is not over-awed nor is he or she one to shrink away from somebody lowly or unkempt. They do not even realise when they have said something that is socially inept. Some of the stories of myokonin have this quality.

When we become involved in religion, we come up against many distinctions of status. To enter a religious path, one has to follow somebody. You might go to a meditation retreat on a distant island and just do your practice in isolation, but even then, you got that practice from somebody; the author of a book you read, perhaps. Spirituality always involves following, discipleship, and so on. Like all good things, this is good when it works, and like all things that can work, it can also go wrong. What is the nature of the proper relationship? Does the teacher want to be unquestioningly followed, as if one were a machine? - probably not. But the teacher probably does have something to offer and the kind of relationship that can grow up between teacher and disciple is an exquisite gem of great intimacy and mutual trust. Trust implies a kind of equality - not the formal social equality of democratic institutions, but the equality of knowing that we are the same in our heart of hearts, whatever role we may temporarily be occupying in the floating whirling world.

Here at the Amida community, one of the things that people learn a lot about is how to relate to others who have authority over them, or are simply senior to them, or over whom they have authority or seniority, or with whom they are peers. All these distinctions are social and functional. The cook's function is different from that of the kitchen assistant. This phenomenon of functional and status distinctions collectively creates a hierarchy. It is not a rigid one, but it exists.

People who are imbued with the Western social tradition sometimes rebel against this arrangement as though any kind of hierarchy were intrinsically evil. Really they are struggling with their own emotional reactions. In fact, in the world, there are hierarchies everywhere and if there were none we would all be living like non-social wild animals - without government, without employment, without schools, without any kind of organized labour. On the other hand, it is undeniable that hierarchies do often result in oppression. So how can one have hierarchy that is truly just functional and not exploitative? How can we have social relations that function that are also vehicles for deep mutual resepct?

On the other hand, there are other people who rebel in the opposite way by abandoning responsibility for their own life and giving all initiative to the guru or to seniors in the community. As a junior one does as one is told, but if this becomes an unthinking, unreflective, mechanical reaction, it is not what is being looked for. Similarly, one listens to teachings - a holy practice in itself - but it is also part of being a disciple to ask questions - another holy practice.

So what goes on between teacher and disciple is a kind of dance. The two dance partners do not have the same steps, but they complement one another. In many dances, there is one who leads and another who follows, but the one who follows follows in a lively way - they do not become simply like a dead weight or there is no dance. And if the leader misses a step, it may be for the partner to carry the flow through so that both can recover and go on together. This is also like chanting together. One person leads, but if whenever the leader falters everybody else stops, the chant will not flow. Leaders always falter from time to time. We have to learn about these things. This is why sometimes the disciple leads the chant and the teacher is among the followers. We have to get to know what it feels like.

Buddhist training is, therefore, in some measure, leadership training. At the heart of being a good leader, however, there lies an attitude of equality.

In Buddhism we see Buddha as our highest teacher. Straight away we are back into the vertical. Amida is up there and we are down here. Really, however, it is not like that. Amida want to dance with us. We can let him lead our dance and we will learn new steps, but if we really learn to dance with him, then we will get into a flow in which it is difficult to tell who leads and who follows. Certainly we will not be just a passive lump. The music and the contact bring us to life. To be equivalent to enlightened means to dance with Amida in a lively way.

When one is in the flow of a dance, one is enjoying the moment and not worrying about the future. Indeed, one's sense of the future takes on an aura. In the arms of the one we love and trust, we feel that all will be well. Whether circmstances prove clement or dismaying, all will still be well. In those arms we dwell in a sweet land. We have no doubts about the life to come. It will all take care of itself because we have the one thing needful.

Shinran Shonin teaches that the person who attains Pure Faith is immediately brought to the stage of enlightenment equivalence. This does not mean that we have climbed up or that Amida has come down. It means that the dance is always going on and we have, at last, decided to trust it. Functionally, in life, we are sometimes up and sometimes down, but spiritually all that matters is to enter the dance and be held in the arms of the beloved and respond with all one heart and soul and being.

Irreversible Commitment

David Brazier — 2006-01-25T00:41:10+01:00

Today Prasada and I attended a discussion of the Hsin Hsin Ming, an early medieval Ch'an text. The discussion took place at Lotus Lake Dharma Center in Talahassee where we are visiting. I had not read this text for a while and it was interesting to come at it after an interval. The author of the text, Seng Ts'an (d.606), an older contemporary of Pureland master Tao Cho (562-645), attempts to strike directly to the essential point of what religion is about and this is what makes the text popular, fertile and intriquing to many. This central point, it is easy to see from a Pureland perspective as what we call faith. The author says as much in the section of the text we examined, but this is by no means apparent to the average reader who encounters the text in a Western framework. Two of the issues that came up in our discussion were:

1. Is faith a state of mind? No, faith is an existential commitment. States of mind rise and fall: now sleep, now alertness, now dullness, now in altered consciousness - but if there is genuine faith it persists through all alike. Faith does not alter according to the state of mind one is in nor does the cultivation of a particular state of mind add or subtract much if anything to faith. Some kinds of mindfulness may flow from faith, but they are not centrally relevant to its arising. Faith, once etablished, is more part of he background of life than the foreground, partaking of what is taken for granted more than what is sustained by effort. Indeed, if faith requires effort to be sustained, it becomes somewhat suspect.

2. The question of irreversibility (avaivartika): does the ubiquity of impermanence mean that enlightenment is reversible? This led to a useful clarification of the difference between change and reversibility. A Buddha goes on changing but does not become unenlightened in the process. "Love is not love that alters when it alteration finds" and yet love continues to adapt, meeting each alteration in its own sweet fashion. This consideration deepens our appreciation of the sense of faith as commitment. Commitment goes on and on - "always going on beyond" - yet never going back.

Don't Let's Keep Buddha Waiting

David Brazier — 2006-01-18T02:46:52+01:00

Danny Fisher recently sent me a very nice piece of writing that is the product of his having interviewed a number of people, including myself, about the apparent tension or possible contradiction between monsticism and social engagement. This kind of question is very important for the person who feels a desire to do the best possible with their life and "not keep the Buddha waiting", yet is unsure whether

that means taking a path of world renunciation or one of world engagement. I can ressonate with Danny's question - it has in a sense been a lifelong concern of my own. Certainly thoughts of this kind have helped to shape the many ventures that I have made of my life over the years and, in the last decade, the work we have been involved in at Amida where we are currently feeling quite good about the form of engaged-monastic training that we have evolved. This does give:
- a thorough grounding in Buddhism from a Pureland perspective,
- a lot of practical skills,
- the kind of character development that comes through living in community
- ability to handle responsibility
- exposure to and involvement in all manner of socially engaged/pastoral activity at home and abroad.

This kind of programme has taken quite a while to develop and we are still constantly concerned with improving it. Such improvements include adding placements in other monastic and engaged settings as well as improving our teaching programmes and the natural enhancment of opportunities that flows from the continuing growth and diversification of the Amida Trust's range of activities in different parts of the world.

Recently there has been a further expansion with an up-surge of interest in our ministry programme. While our initial focus was on what we call amitarya training - a fully renunciant-engaged vocation - recently there has been a demand for Buddhist ministry training and commitment. Here too we are in the business of developing on-going training programmes, both in-house and distance learning, inter-laced with the opportunities provided by the Amida lifestyle.

Several of the people that Danny interviewed were pesimistic about the prospects for monasticism in the West, especially in North America. What is surely needed, however, is not a return to traditional western monasticism, but to the errant life of the person of simple faith who is willing to give their all to the Buddha's call not just in a monastic institution but in the heart of a sangha open to hearing all the cries of the world. Shakyamuni Buddha did not gather people into a fold, he sent them forth on many missions.

We are very keen on the mission approach. Go forth and do something. Go in ones and twos or in little teams, but do something. Then come back into the bossom of the sangha and share the experience with others so that we all learn together and the whole community may mature. Whether a person has the karma to become an amitarya and be free to go anywhere in the world or whether they are more established in one place and can minister to those in that place, there is always much that one can do.

We live in the world of Shakyamuni Buddha - a Pure Land in the making. This saha world still has a way to go before it matches the perfections of Amida's Sukhavati. Shakyamuni needs our help. Let's not keep him waiting too long.

Faith as Portayed in Nikaya Buddhism

David Brazier — 2005-10-17T19:11:10+02:00

The Majjhima Nikaya is generally thought to be a fairly early Buddhist text, certainly well pre-Christ. Here I review what it has to say about faith.

Sutta 22, the Alagadduupama Sutta is a very significant sutta containing the rebuke of Arritha, the famous similes of the snake and the raft, the refutation of non-Buddhist views, and the teaching of non-self. It concludes with the final verse: "The Dhamma well proclaimed by me is clear, open, evident, and not patched together. According to this Dhamma - clear, open, evident, and not patched together - those who have faith in me, those who love me, are all on the way to heaven." This seems pretty clear.

In Sutta 34, the Cuulagopaalaka, the Buddha likens his task in helping people to reach "the other shore" to that of a cowherd who must get his herd across a river. In verse 10 of this 12 verse sutta he says, "Just as that tender calf just born, being urged on by its mother's lowing, also breasted the stream of the Ganges and got safely across to the other further shore, so too, those bhikkhus who are Dharma-followers and Faith-followers - by breasting Mara's stream they too will get safely to the other shore." It is clear here that the Buddha saw disciples as becoming liberated in different ways. This range is further elaborated in Sutta 70, the sutta given at Kitagiri. Here the Buddha classifies the "seven kinds of Noble persons", indicating seven ways of liberation. Among these are those "liberated in both ways", those "liberated by wisdom", "liberated by faith" "Dharma followers" and "faith followers". Wisdom (prajna) is highest, but the others are more common. In any case, there seems to be no opposition between faith and prajna. The impression throughout the texts is that prajna is simply the highest development of a course that begins with and is rooted in faith, not one that rejects faith. Prajna is simply the highest most refined form of faith - faith in shunyata. Such faith is supported by logic and reasoning and by experience, but if it is only logic there is unlikely to be experience or wisdom. It all starts with faith.

Sutta 53 is the Sekha Sutta. Sekha means training. This is the sutta about how a person trains in Buddhism. From verse 11 onward the Buddha lists the good qualities that a disciple needs in order to do the training. The first is faith. The object of faith in these passages is generally the Buddha himself, his qualities and especially his enlightenment. The other necessary qualities are shame, fear of wrong-doing, ability to learn, energy, recollection and wisdom. These are given in this order and are probably intended to develop in this order. Faith is the foundation of other good qualities. This is pretty obvious, really. If one does not have any faith one will not even try something. If we have no faith we never step out of our existing boundary and so never grow or change.

Sutta 65 includes a passage about when a bhikkhu should be corrected and admonished. Verse 27 tells us that a bhikkhu should not be much admonished if this will lead him to lose faith. "Here some bhikkhu progresses by a measure of faith and love.... Let him not lose that measure of faith and love as he may if we take action against him by repeatedly admonishing him." To the Buddha there is a strong link between faith and striving (padhaana). The Buddha consistently praises "zeal and persistent striving". A
person will strive if that person has faith. In Sutta 85 he explains to Prince Bodhi that there are five factors of striving - faith, health, sincerity, being energetic and wise. We see over and over that these qualities all go together. A wise, energetic, sincere faith leads to zeal and spiritual striving. We should not, therefore, think that faith means not having to make any effort in our lives. A person who wants to not make effort is simply a person who does not really have that kind of faith.

I think that what we see from this is that in the Majjhima Nikaya faith is an essential quality upon which other important qualities depend. It is the beginning of the spiritual life and it is the most important quality for those who are on the bottom rungs of the spiritual ladder. Further up the ladder faith remains essential, but it becomes supplemented by experience. In one sense we can say that on the Buddhist path one commences with faith and progresses to knowledge. But one could also ask what knowledge is other than a greater certainty of faith borne of experience. I do not think the Buddha would quibble with this. He does not see wisdom (or knowledge) and faith as opposed principles. He sees them as congruent with one another. Without faith, however, one simply does not do anything. It is worth asking ourselves, however, what it is that we put our faith in. What are we really hoping for from the Dharma?

A Theory of Nembutsu

David Brazier — 2005-04-26T16:15:40+02:00

The nembutsu has a long history in Buddhism. The word literally means "buddha in mind" and it has come to mean verbal recitation of the words "I take refuge in Amitabha Buddha" in one language or another. The form that we commonly use is "Namo Amida Bu". The nembutsu has been used as

an aid to meditation, visualisation or mindfulness or as a mind-protector (mantra). Most contemporary Japanese schools, however, reject such usage. There is, therefore, a variety of interpretation. Honen considered recitation of nembutsu the sole remaining efficacious practice. I would like here to elaborate the elements of a theory of nembutsu suitable for contemporary usage.

This theory of nembutsu has the following elements:
1. Faith is a primary element in the efficacy of nembutsu, but not an exclusive one.
2. Contrition is a necessary preparation for nembutsu
3. Good works spring naturally from nembutsu
4. Nembutsu is a shorthand for all of Buddha's teaching
5. Nembutsu brings us into the presence of the sacred
This theory contains elements of several Pureland schools but is not the orthodox teaching of any one school.

1. Faith is a primary element in the efficacy of nembutsu, but not an exclusive one
Jodoshu sees nembutsu as a practice guaranteeing salvation; Jodoshinshu see it as an expression of gratitude for salvation already achieved in which it is necessary to have faith; and most Chinese Pureland schools see it as an aid to attainment of a state of mind that is itself to be considered salvation. Against this background, I suggest that nembutsu is an expression of faith in as well as a declaration of one's position vis-a-vis the sacred. It is akin to the Christian Jesus Prayer. The Jesus Prayer is "Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon me a sinner". The nembutsu could be rendered "Measureless Buddha, I pray you, be present in the life of this foollish being." Nembutsu expresses the sense of an encounter between the limited self and the Unlimited, the Unborn, the Deathless. While this is satisfactory philosophically, it is not necessarily sufficiently satisfying as religious praxis. Religious satisfaction requires at least some degree of embodiment, because we ourselves are embodied beings. For this reason Buddhism offers the theory of threefold embodiment (trikaya). In the most abstract embodiment - Dharmakaya - the Unconditioned is equated with reality itself. In the least abstract - Nirmanakaya - it is embodied in the person of Shakyamuni Buddha, preeminently, and in all sages and spiritual ancestors: in other words nirmanakaya is the lived holy life - or, to borrow another Christian term, "the Word made flesh". The intermediate level of embodiment - Sambhogakaya - is Amida Buddha, a spiritual being to whom we can relate as embodying all the virtues and powers of Buddhahood while being ever present. These three, Dharmakaya, Sambhogakaya, and Nirmanakaya correspond therefore to "the Word" (Dharma), "the Word as spirit" and "the Word made flesh" respectively. There is thus a quite close correspondence with the Christian trinity and it seems not at all impossible that the Christian and Buddhist conceptions have a common root historically. This framework of theology provides the devotee with different options in terms of practice and these will accommodate different temperaments. Those who tend toward abstraction may direct their nembutsu toward the Dharmakaya. Those who are concrete may direct it toward the person of Shakyamuni, or any other ancestoer, or their own spiritual guide. Those who are spiritual can direct it toward Amida or one of his attendant bodhisattvas - Quan Yin, Tai Shih Chi or any of the other great bodhisattvas. Faith is thus manifested as concrete devotional activity, employing any of a range of devotional forms - bowing, circumambulating, making offering, reciting sutras, etc., but preeminently in verbal utterance of nembutsu which both invokes the Presence and affirms one's stance in relation to It.

2. Contrition is a necessary preparation for nembutsu
In order to practise in the manner just indicated there needs to be a preliminary divesting oneself of the grosser manifestations of conceit. Nobody is going to call out for spiritual help while they continue to believe themselves to be the source of all good. It is only by gaining at least a preliminary insight into our own vulnerability, frailty and failings that the stanglehold of conceit or self-view can be weakened. The softening of heart that comes from seeing that one is a foolish being of wayward passion and so is in the same plight spiritually as others, is called contrition. It is the foundation of or gateway to all true awakening and makes it possible for a being to utter the nembutsu meaningfully.

3. Good works spring naturally from nembutsu
When we position ourselves in the manner expressed by nembutsu, good actions follow naturally. Good actions are those that benefit others. This is love and compassion and these are natural consequences of feeling oneself to be in just the same position as others spiritually, free from the blindness of superiority. At the same time, good acts are ones in which one acts as an agent or channel for the sacred influence, rather than acting as a form of self-assertion. All of this is amply expressed by nembutsu. "I, a foolish being, ask You to act through me".

4. Nembutsu is a shorthand for all of Buddha's teaching
All the teachings of Buddha can be found condensed in nembutsu. Namo expresses the first two noble truths and Amida Bu expresses the third and fourth. Namo is the twelve links of dependent origination and Amida Bu is their unravelling. Namo Amida Bu is the teaching of non-self in practical spiritual form and the encounter of impermanence with nirvana. All Buddha's teachings are nembutsu.

5. Nembutsu brings us into the presence of the sacred
Nembutsu is a relational spirituality. It is not a matter of laying claim to an elevated spiritual identity for oneself, but of being willing even in one's lost or troubled or unenlightened state, to turn toward the Unconditioned and let it into one's life. This is a matter of trust and entrustment. It abandons self-reliance as an ideal and expresses a willingness to rely upon the calling from the other shore.

All Sentient Beings

David Brazier — 2005-04-20T15:51:45+02:00

I am very touched by the comment added by Gina to the Hunger Strike item at the Amida Order weblog. Joan is going on hunger strike to bring attention to the death and torture suffered by vast numbers of animals in for the most part completely fruitless experiments in university laboratories - in this instance in Oxford. Joan is in her eighties and so it is no small challenge to her to undertake this. I shall be going to Oxfod to join her myself on Friday and Saturday.

Lack & Transcendence

David Brazier — 2005-04-17T23:54:03+02:00

David Loy sent me a copy of his book, “Lack and Transcendence”. Here I am sharing my response to some of his ideas in the book. David’s key concept

is lack. This is his term for existential malaise: the anxiety that humans suffer when facing their finitude. People seek to transcend this finitude by grounding their lives in something that they collectively agree to consider reliable. This then becomes what is held sacred and determines the nature of the culture. David thus refers to the creation of a sacred realm as transcendence, even though in the actual strategy chosen by a given culture the sacred locus may be immanent to some aspect of existence. He envisages transcendence, therefore, as a universal phenomenon – something that all cultures do. If a culture seems to have no overtly transcendental icons or institutions this does not mean that no transcendence is happening, simply that it is concealed in some way. David has been very skilful in some of his writings in revealing how such processes are concealed in our own culture, for instance.

The book is presented in effect as a dialogue or debate between psychotherapy, existentialism and Buddhism on how we should best understand this phenomenon. All three are presented as having some insights to offer, but the first two are finally found wanting, and Buddhism – or a certain sort of Buddhism, a point I will come to below – is presented as having the solution. In the final chapter, David introduces a further threefold categorisation, this time of cultures: Indian, Sino-Japanese, and Western, and speculates a little on where the West may be heading.

Both the Indian and the Sino-Japanese approaches are seen by David as forms of avoidance of the reality of lack. I found myself in broad agreement with this diagnosis. I wonder, however, if his preferred remedy cannot not itself be accused of being another manifestation of the same disease.

In the dialogue of ideas that makes up the main part of the book, psychotherapy is represented primarily by Freud, who gets severely criticised, Existentialism by a number of people among whom Heidegger is foremost, and Buddhism largely by the Avatamsaka philosophy of non-dualism. Ernest Becker has quite a large part as a mediator between psychotherapy and existentialism. Many other figures are mentioned, but this choice of main protagonists, about all of whom David has strong views, substantially shapes the impression that the reader is intended to receive.

Let me skip to the last chapter first. David identifies three significant approaches to the inevitable struggle to transcend lack. People can solve the problem of lack by reference to a transcendent other world, by making the social structures of this world sacred, or by making the individual sacred (whether the word soul is used or not). These three are the characteristic styles of India, China-Japan, and the West respectively. David particularly elaborates the contrast between the Sino-Japanese approach and the Indian approach to Buddhism, the former concrete, deferential, superstitious, specific and this-worldly, and the latter abstract, transcendental, logical, metaphysical and universalizing. In the former, ethics cannot be separated from specific social obligations. In the latter ethics is grounded in overarching universal principles. Casting his net wider, David sees the ancient societies of Mesopotamia and Egypt as conforming to the Chinese-Japanese pattern and those of Judea and Greece to the Indian one. This makes me think that it is societies that attempt to be monlithic that conform to the Sino-Japanese pattern of worshipping a sacred state and those that are segmented into competing groups that need an overarching transcendental sacred zone to both hold them together and provide a reference point of universal values essential for resolving differences between factions that acknowledge no common this-worldly overlord. It would be a mistake in this regard to think of Indian society as a monolithic hierarchy – the different caste groups are in incessant competition one with another. It is worth reflecting how far this applies to our own society too. Societies that depend upon internal competition between groups for their dynamic need a transcendental referee. Those that outlaw such competition cannot afford to have a source of values unidentified with the state. David does go on to consider the Western case. What immediately strikes me is that Western society draws its cultural inspiration from one side of this classification and not at all from the other. Europeans are of Aryan stock, like India, with a cultural heritage from Greece and Judea. In our society the principle of competition has gone furthest generating principles not just of group competition but of individual competition. This has led to an intense concentration upon the refinement of law as a transcendental principle. Even the most secularized, atheistic people in the West have no hesitation in appealing to assertions about what is “right” and “true” as if these transcendental categories were as real as tables and chairs – more so, in fact. This, I think, is essentially David’s point – the transcendental religious function has not disappeared from our society, it has simply been reclothed, redesignated and, in a sense relocated, but I sense that even the relocation is more apparent than real. I think, therefore, that I am broadly in agreement with David’s schema, though am rather inclined to collapse it into a twofold one, a spectrum on which the West and India, in slightly different ways, I grant, now lie at one end with China and Japan at the other. In this final chapter David devotes only the last paragraph to his preferred solution presumably assuming that he has made his main point already quite adequately in earlier chapters.

The solution that he sees is the philosophy found in the Avatamsaka Sutra symbolised by the idea of Indra’s Net. In this image all elements of existence are interrelated and part of a greater whole. Application of this image would amount to the sacralisation of the whole of existence through a recognition of the inter-relatedness, indeed inter-identification of all species and all of creation. I think we could call this the “complete immenance” (my term) solution. This is interesting to me because I once held this position myself, but have since rejected it. I do not any longer think that this is an option. I now think that you cannot make everything into one sacred category without making sacredness meaningless. We cannot and will not ever make it all one. Oneness is a chimera, an attempt, if I may use one of David’s themes from earlier in the book, to be one’s own father and so control one’s own being and destiny. I very much like the insight evidenced in David’s categorisation of the Indian and Sino-Japanese modes, but I am not so taken with his attempt to solve the resulting problems by a flight into “non-dualism”. I am not so willing to give up the whole basis of analytical thought. Is there an alternative?

What is this lack that David equates with death? It is the extent to which one is less than everything, one’s life is less than eternal, one’s location is less than everywhere, one’s being less than foundational to the universe. It is the wailing against there existing something other. In this light, one can see why a consciousness of Oneness might appear to offer a solution, but is not the hankering for exactly that solution just another symptom of the disease? Here I find myself in accord with Ortega’s observations that David in fact quotes as a counterpoint: we are shipwrecked. Only when we realise that we are lost do we find the possibility of reaching out to something other and discovering the possibility of real relationship, relationship that is not an attempt to restore oneness – to make the other me or me him or, even worse, to be my own other so that I become self-sufficient. Only when we know we are lost will we admit the possibility that there is something out there beyond me, something holy. That something other is not a symptom of my lack. I am what I am. He is what he is. I understand neither with any fullness, nor need I. Relationship does not require my wholeness, only my acknowledgement of my shipwrecked condition. This being my understanding, I was keen to see what David does say in support of the non-dualist position and to see if I can really understand it. I cannot say that I have been entirely successful in this, but this failure may well owe more to my lack of sympathy for the non-dualist position than to any lack of lucidity in David’s writing.

Near to the core of his argument lies the assertion: “death is not our deepest fear… immortality is not our deepest wish” (p.27). Apparently they are symptoms of “the desire of the sense-of-self to become a real self”. This assertion is rather heavy with jargon, but what he is getting at is that our primal anxiety has to do with what we sense our state to be now rather than with something that will happen to us in the future (namely, die). He suggests that immortality would not satisfy us because it would still be immortality as a being that lacks inherent meaning. These are valuable insights. At the same time, I wonder if they are not a flight from one extreme into the other.

In advancing these ideas, I sense that David is trying to rationalise his own lack or loss. That is an eminently understandable desire. When things fall apart we seek to find new meaning as a way of putting life back together again. One option is to find a philosophy that tells us that although things seem to have fallen apart, there is a more fundamental wholeness that we can fall back upon. Another option is to find one that tells us that “falling apart” is the ultimate nature of our being. If there is anything that is not an instance of falling apart, it does not partake of the same kind of being as ourselves. It is possible to interpret Buddhism as being either of these philosophies. David takes it to be the first. I take it as the second. To me, the Unborn is not something that I can become; even less something that I already inherently am. The Unborn is that which points out to me my nature, not by identity, but by contrast. I am born. I do die. I do think with a mind that cannot be anything other than dualistic. I do have desires and fears. I am like that. No spiritual procedure or philosophical conviction is going to make me or anybody else I know otherwise. Shipwreck. Though even the idea of shipwreck, like that of the Fall, implies a prior state that was otherwise and I see no reason to postulate such a state. We are like this, we always have been and we always will be.

Spirituality is not about adopting or attaining a different mode of being. It is about relating. It is about the encounter between a being such as I and that which is completely Other. The escape is not into becoming or realising oneself to be the Unborn but into the kind of relationship with it that brings home forcefully one’s actual born nature. The escape is found only in the kind of encounter that blows away all escapism. I suspect that there are elements of this alternative analysis that David might find attractive, but it is different because it rests upon an acceptance that duality is foundational to any human way of understanding the world. We cannot get away from being what we are. We can relate to what we are not, but we cannot be it. Our primal longing is not something to solve, it is something to cherish.

Living in Grace-Land

David Brazier — 2005-04-11T14:35:48+02:00

Thankyou, Andi. Gassho. I appreciate you coming back on this thread. I appreciate it because it was not bound to happen, so I receive it as a gift - something from yourself. The issue of "self" is, of course, subtle and complex. In the ordinary sense, we are

persons. We do things. As bodies we are just as much things in the world as tables and chairs are. We are more than tables and chairs in that we are conscious. We have relationships. These matter to us. I would not want to arrive at a point in the deconstruction of the idea of self where such things ceased to matter. However, I am wary of the idea of "interdependence". What is mostly the case is that we are simply dependent. There are some limited ways in which the universe is dependent upon us, but if I disappeared tomorrow I don't think the sun would notice. It does not depend upon me. So we are contingent and vulnerable. We must face the fact that in many respects we are totally insignificant. In the midst of vast insignificance, we have stumbled into a life full of feelings about "things that matter". The next person is just as contingent and vulnerable as I am. When I consider this, that person seems to matter. So, in relationships between people, this knowledge may lead to tenderness. So I understand the "nature of self" as dependent and vulnerable. I'm not so clear that there is an "inter-" in this dependency. I wonder if that "inter-" does not suggest a kind of human self-aggrandisement. Most relationships are one way. It's nice when they are two way, but that is not the common situation. I benefit from all sorts of things and people that have no need of me, have never met me, and, in many cases, would not notice if I were not there. Of course, I also benefit some others - but they are not the same ones, and I do not necessarily receive anything from those I benefit or who depend upon me. Spirituality does seem to me to be related to an acceptance of this onewayness. To give without any expectation. To receive without knowing how or why. Gratitude to those unknown. That would be spirituality - but mostly I am too weak for it. Also, do I really need to understand the relationship in order to have it? I do not understand myself nor do I understand Amida. I do not need to wait until I understand because it is already happening. I am much more interested in relating than in understanding myself. I am more interested in relating to you than in getting to the bottom of who I am and who you are, though a certain amount of such enquiry may bring us closer. Relating does seem to be something special precisely because it does come close to breaking out of the onewayness of things. Even so, even in a relationship, every move is unilateral and so stands on faith. If it does not do so, we lose our life and become machines. We are not inter-dependent - every contribution is a unilateral gift. That is what makes it exquisite. As we relate, there is life and colour and joy and faith. That's it. It's already happening, but it is so fragile.
Whether we see the bodhi tree
Or a mirror bright
Let us welcome everything
Whether it be dust or light.
We welcome everything because it is a gift - here now, gone in an instant. We live in grace-land. Perhaps the grace of conversation will continue.....

What is the "I" that has faith?

David Brazier — 2005-04-11T13:53:46+02:00

Andi Young responded to my item "Faiths of Different Colours". I thought it was worth bringing out of the comments and making a full post out of it. So here it is... "Thank you for your response to my post. I appreciate this dialogue--what a wonderful way to bridge the "conceptual" gulf. When I talk about faith and

about "just doing it," although there's some functioning "me" here that in one sense has to originate the action, that "me" is just a name attached to a form. One of my teachers, Dae Bong Zen Master, said one time that we are never out of relationship to the universe. Our interdependence extends from the most obvious level to the most subtle. So what is the "I" that has faith? What is the "I" that acts, thinks, decides, or speaks up? *This*, as you probably know from your own Zen training, is at the heart of things. What am I? Faith is about a relationship. Great Faith and the willingness to try is based on a conceit about the I; so is your "small faith" and the relationship to Amida. Both faiths still ask us to understand that relationship, understang that "I" that says or does anything. So our faiths--not same, not different. What are we? This is the great question, and one that gives "faith" it's particular valence. ...I hope we keep up the dialogue!" - Yours in the Dharma, Andi

My Solitude is Not My Own

David Brazier — 2005-04-11T09:21:38+02:00

The title is a quotation from Thomas Merton, who also wrote: "The whole illusion of a separate holy existence is a dream". Thomas Merton and Martin Luther King both died in 1968. At the time they were planning to spend a retreat together, but

it never happened. There is an interesting essay bringing the two together Albert J. Raboteau: A Hidden Wholeness: Thomas Merton and Martin Luther King, Jr.. Please note that there is also an article about solitude on Interlog.

Merton's life demonstrates a relationship between writing and solitude. He was much of the time a hermit and produced 48 books.King, on the other hand, came from and brought to a peak the tradition of black religious protest. Two contrasting forms of marginality - two vantage points from which to criticise society: the contemplative and the prophetic.

Both these were men with weak points. The Time when King confronts his own weakness and hears a divine voice was a particularly significant moment for him: "Martin Luther, stand up for righteousness. Stand up for justice. Stand up for truth. And I will be with you, even until the end of the world." He reported: "...I heard the voice of Jesus saying still to fight on. He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone. No never alone." This relationshionship between action, aloneness and non-aloneness illustrates a central factor in the spiritual life. How we identify the voice that speaks to us may be a function of ourspiritual-cultural background. The experience, however, is common in one form or another to great figures in many religions. To me, the experience is what matter - more than whether we think it is Jesus or Tai Shih Chi or the angel of Allah.

There are "moments of grace" or kairos times. There are such for individuals when they are given direction and come to know their vocation and there are such for societies when a great spiritual challenge arrives at a time of possible transformation. Such moments may be seized or may be lost.

The two men came to a similar position of acute social criticism via completely different routes. Merton's solitude led him to a concern with the discovery of the "ground of his being" - a self-affirmation beyond the fear of mortality and contingency. King had a sense of Jesus at his side, never deserting him. I see parallels here with the self-power and other-power modes of Buddhism, respectively. King's God had a will and his light was "Thy will be done". Both accepted the idea that God is love (agape). Merton found God to reside in the most innocent part of himself. King found God ever at his side. Merton was a sage. King lived in a Pure Land. It is not surprising, therefore, that when Merton had an involvement with Buddhism, it would be Zen.

Both identified themselves with the down-trodden. This was their way of actualising the love that moved them. Both were people apart - yet one's apartness is not one's own.

Faith of Different Colours

David Brazier — 2005-04-06T22:12:37+02:00

There is a very nice post at Ditch the Raft about Great Faith. Reading this made me aware of some of the different qualities of faith. The faith written about is clearly recognisable to me, but it is interesting to see it expressed in opposite terms to those I would use.

Andi Young, the author of Ditch the Raft, expresses faith as follows: "I actually had zero faith, because at the most basic level I believed I was incapable of awakening on any level", and "I struggle to have the faith to not just not fail, but to believe that I can stand on my conviction and build a foundation" and says, "I used to think faith was about believing in something out there." Eloquent. It says how, under the influence of her teachers, she has struggled to move her understanding of faith toward a position that has a greater element of self-confidence, self-belief and self-efficacy in it. In my case, I have struggled in exactly the opposite direction. I now have faith precisely because I know that I will fail, know about my incapacity, know I do need something out there, know that I do not have a foundation that is my own. That is now my understanding of what anatma (non-self) is all about. It is because I half recognise my state as a foolish being of wayward passions that I know that I have to have faith and cannot do this Buddhism business all by myself. Now although this is exactly the opposite of what Andi says, the actual quality that we are describing is very similar. We are both talking about "Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway" to borrow Susan Jeffers title. Andi conceptualises this as meaning that if it happens it will be because she does it and she therefore does not need anything from outside herself. I conceptualise it as knowing that "I" cannot do it, just proceed in faith. Amida may see me through, but, whatever happens, it will be OK. Perhaps these are two languages for the same thing, perhaps not. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. If we think we are in a state of delusion, then we implicitly recognise something beyond that delusion, don't we? Let's, for the moment, use the Buddhist term "the Unborn" to refer to that something. We may think that we can attain and ourselves become the Unborn and that we can do this by means of certain practices. That is one approach to Buddhism, one colour of faith. Or we may think, it is inconceivable that I could become the Unborn, certainly in this lifetime, given what I know about myself, but I can relate to and rely upon the Unborn - even a deluded being such as I can do that. These are both faith, but they are faiths of different colours. Perhaps Andi's is Great Faith and mine is little faith. There may be consequences of having a particular colour of faith. The first approach may lead a person to make super-human effort and engage in arduous practice in far away lands, at risk to their health, heroically. My own Zen teacher ruined her health in this way. In the process she learnt some marvellous things, but took many years off her life. When I practised with her, my own health suffered seriously. Now, I find it more natural to find faith in a way that involves acceptance of my nature as a fallible and frail being and to attempt compassion not from the position of being (or even hoping to become) a great bodhisattva but from the position of being in the same boat - an ordinary person. This has been a liberation for me. For me now, the "something out there" is the Unborn - Amida. It is not me. It is very important that it is not me. Spiritual maturity now seems to me to reside in recognising that "me" is not the be-all-and-end-all and that salvation does indeed come from beyond - from the measureless, undefineable something out there. I am aware that in many respects, Andi and I are simply using different language to say similar things. The tone is, however, different and this may well lead to different behaviour. I have been through the rigours of Zen and had all that it had to offer. What I discovered at the end of it is that I am still as foolish as the next person. Now, I feel like a fish that was let off the hook. I probably have this all wrong, but I imagine that Siddhartha Gotama probably felt something very similar when he gave up asceticism. I no longer pray for enlightenment or to be a great monk. The enlightenment that I have - namely the knowledge that I am not cut out for sainthood and that kindness is more important than attainment - is quite liberating enough. Andi is aware of her doubts and weakness - to me that is what is salvational, not the overcoming of them per se. We are weak. We may pray that our moral failing diminish - may long for them to do so, but whether they do so or not is not just a function of effort - it has a great deal more to do with such factors as whether we love and feel loved. Compassion lies in recognising that we are in passion together, not in extinguishing it. What I love about your writing Andi is precisely the fact that your passion and frailty shows through. To recognise one's deluded nature is to recognise that there is something beyond it - something out there - and seeing something like that, I'm going to bow to it. We need something to bow to. Thank you, Andi. I hope we can meet across this conceptual gulf and I just hope you go on being frail like me and don't become too good a nun. Some things we learn the hard way - much of my spiritual life has been like that. I wish it were not so. I prefer learning the easy way and I certainly wish that those I love could do so, but to learn the easy way one has to put one's faith in something out there. If Buddha nature means becoming a super-saint, it's well outside my ken - wonderful for some no doubt, but off my planet. If it means realising that asceticism and spiritual self-reliance are just as ignoble as greed and self-indulgence, I can go with that. Are we saying the same thing..... or not?

Studies in Lack

David Brazier — 2005-04-03T13:28:49+02:00

It occurs to me that my thinking in the last couple of years has been profoundly influenced by David Loy's work, A Buddhist History of the West: Studies in Lack. Whatever David intended by this work, the theme that I have taken from it is

that Western culture - all the institutions of Western society - evolved out of an attempt to anticipate the work of God. It would no longer be necessary for God to judge and redeem people because the human courts would do that first. It would no longer be necessary for God to elevate or punish because human institutions could do all that. The state took over God's work. As the anticipation of God's work became more and more efficient, God became correspondingly redundant. Thus we produced the secular society where God has no function. Loss of faith was really a matter of people not trusting God to do His job. This analysis opens a very interesting perspective upon the nature of religious sensibility. What would happen if we did trust God, karma, etc? In a Buddhist context, we would say that justice is not our concern - karma will take care of that. Compassion is our concern. Whether it is just or not is something that we can hardly be expected to figure. Why did the tsunami happen? I do not know. Ask Him. In the meantime, our job is compassion - help the afflicted. Trust. Trust that compassion will tend toward the advent of the Pure Land. Do not think that it is your responsibility to make a Pure Land appear. There is a great difference between assisting the Buddha in his task and making him redundant, living in the Other Power and trying to make that power one's own. Though there are linguistic and conceptual differences between religious systems they all face the same basic spiritual problems. Most people probably use religion as a substitute for real faith rather than as a vehicle for it. Do we really trust the divine to do its work? In the modern age, people of real faith are few and far between.

Peace Passionate

David Brazier — 2005-04-03T00:05:56+02:00

Contemporary approaches generally seek to make spirituality conform to a deepening of appreciation of ordinary quotidian reality. Medieval spirituality, however,

was grounded in a profound longing for that which lay beyond and was precisely the negation or transcendence of the everyday. On the site of the Monastery of the Ascension is a section about Cassian who wrote about the life of ecstatic contemplation, e.g. with the intention of the mind on fire. [This prayer] is produced through an inexpressible ecstasy of heart, by an unexplainable keenness of spirit, and so the mind altered beyond sense or visible matter pours forth to God with unutterable groans and sighs - Cassian (360-435). Buddhism tends to look for peace where Christianity looks for passion. Can these be cross fertilized?

In the Face of Love

David Brazier — 2005-04-01T22:42:15+02:00

Siona writes: life is excessive. Each moment - and this (as it is with too much I want to say) has the potential of sounding trite - is so inordinately full, so unbearably rich, that to dare to see and seize that is itself excessive. Experience demands

that we be unafraid of excess, of transgressing boundaries and being brave in the face not only of fear and pain and suffering, but of joy and love as well. (Because is it not true that it is the latter that people seem most scared of?) It is excess that is educational, excess that teaches one one's own boundaries, the natural limits of things, and imparts - obviously - a deeper understanding than any lip service to moderation could possibly do. And I am not excusing anything here. I am not looking to justify my past (or present) actions. The middle path is still the same. It is only through excess, though, that I know this.
Be brave in the face of love even though you know its excess will tear you apart. A wisely enlightened person eschews love and so does not grieve, but I am not wisely enlightened. I am only enlightened to light - to the excess of light that flows from every leaf and blade and overwhelms if you but allow it. Our senses are constructed to limit the light so that we do not suffer too too much - a mercy. There was a sage long ago who found all this out - through excess. He was called Sid. He took it to the limit and then at the end of a long gruesome night he was overwhelmed by the sight of the morning star. After that he couldn't stop. He saw love everywhere. And because he saw love and saw with love and was sawn by love - he saw the bitter edge of grief in every poignant turn. He could not help himself. They made a spiritual hero of him and elevated his memory above the human level, but I am sure, I am sure, I am sure Buddha wept.

Fire Hydrant Spirituality: Inner Peace has an Optimum

David Brazier — 2005-04-01T14:13:00+02:00

Genkaku writes:
If you hang around spiritual endeavor long enough, maybe you will think, as I do, that all of us who take up practice are sometimes like a bunch of dogs circling some fire hydrant.

“Oh,” we may say, “the Dharma is like this” or “compassion is like that;” “enlightenment is like this” or “ignorance is like that.” It’s all pretty good encouragement, I suppose, if it nourishes a willingness to actually practice.

But what a lot of words, don’t you think? Who doesn’t want to be happy? Who doesn’t want to clarify the matter of suffering?Which one of us would not take a piece of that action? And so we circle as others have circled before us. Round and round the hydrant. Holy books, holy places, spiritual relics, spiritual activities. Many mistakes, many regrets all duly noted. It’s good, of course, but maybe there is some wondering as well … when, exactly, will I give my consent … just shut up and take a piss.

When I was young, Buddhism was generally regarded somewhat this way - a "naval gazing". The question that quite frequently troubles me is: Has the way the buddhism has established itself in the West done enough, or even much, to dispal this.

There is a value in introspective consciousness watching. It can bring its triumphs and frustrations just like any other activity, as recorded, for instance, by Dukkha Earl on Scribbler Sangha (3/3/05). It is an exercise that can cultivate a degree of calm and mental stability. There is a danger, however, that the pursuit of calm and stability go too far. We should not be too stable or too calm. It is appropriate that the world disturb us. A person who is undisturbed by what goes on in this world is not a noble ideal, simply insensitive. Calm and stability are not ends in themselves. If they are used for good, then they are themselves good, but the perfecting of an ability does not in itself ensure that that ability is then rightly used.

In the Sallekha Sutta (MN8) the Buddha talks about the right practice of sallekha, sometimes translated as effacement. First he details the various degrees of meditative attainment. Then, after each, he says, "these attainments are not called sallekha in the Noble One's discipline, they are called peaceful abidings." He goes on to say what sallekha really is: "Though others will be cruel, we shall not be cruel... Though others will kill, we shall not kill... Though other will take what is not given, we shall not do so..." He says that the inclination of mind toward wholesome things is good; verbal and bodily actions better. It is very clear in this sutta that mind training is not an end in itself - it has a purpose and that purpose is ethical action, both bodily and verbal. Much the same can be said for conceptual understanding. It is useful if it does actually lead to applied ethics.

Buddhist Army Chaplains - No thanks

David Brazier — 2005-03-29T00:59:35+02:00

We have had some discussion recently about the issue whether there should be Buddhist chaplains in the army. This drew the following comment from a correspondent called Michael:
I noted with interest your views on Chaplains and the Army. Speaking as a graduate from the RMA Sandhurst and with five years of commissioned service, including two minor wars, I can assure you that a Buddhist Chaplain would be a hopeless contradiction.

It would be like suggesting abbatoirs should employ vegetarians because they would be kinder to the animals! The roblem is that as a soldier one must always be considering who is the next potential enemy and then work out how one would kill them! The military equipment is very interesting( tanks, helicopters etc, but they are all killing machines.) As a soldier, one can be a pleasant person at times, but when action calls, it is essential to be one pointed and ruthless, if one is to survive. At such times, Dhamma must be completely disregarded. Even in peacetime, one needs to to be abrasive and aggressive to survive amongst one's colleagues. However, it is possible to be a Christain, Jewish or Muslim Chaplain. One could persuade oneself that "God" is on our side and we are the righteous ones, whereas the opponents are evil and nothing is too bad for them. Therefore it would not be so difficult to kill them. The Buddhist Chaplain would be in a hopeless situation. I think it is impossible to be a Buddhist and employed in any of the Armed Services. Mercifully, my children did not follow me!! Best wishes, in Dhamma, Michael

What is Nembutsu?

David Brazier — 2005-03-29T00:33:23+02:00

What is "Namo Amida Bu". Namo Amida Bu is the Buddha prayer or nembutsu. "Namo" is the little, vulnerable, conditioned self calling out. "Amida Bu" is the Buddha on the Other Shore calling back. Whenever we conceptualise anything, there is always an "other shore", a beyond.

The act of conceptualising is a mental grasping that emcompasses something and thus puts a boundary upon it. Amida is the boundariless. Beyond the born is the Unborn. Beyond the self is the Measureless. Beyond our frailty is Amida. We have been born - we are here - how can we make sense of it? Human beings seek to make meaning out of their existence. A great meaning cannot be accomplished within oneself, however, but only by going beyond oneself. The religions in the world offer ways to try to conceptualise this "beyond-self" experience. Buddhism does so in a way that does not load us with dogma, guilt, or an undue metaphysical burden. Some metaphysics are an unavoidable dimension of any kind of spiritual reflection, but we should know that metaphysics grows out of the experience of existence. I exist. I see that I am a small and vulnerable being in vital need of help of all kinds. I call out. Namo Amida Bu. I call out to the unknown that lies beyond myself. It is the power that forms and supports me. In order to be a self, one must alienate oneself from the rest of the universe. With Namo Amida Bu we call to our other half - though, of course, the "halves" are disproportionate, since I am virtually nothing and it is everything. So by calling the nembutsu, I recognise my own self assertion: I recognise both the strength and the foolishness of my project to be somebody - and I celebrate the fact that the universe is always calling me back.

Doubt

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T23:07:00+01:00

Doubt occurs naturally to anybody who thinks. If we think upon matters of ultimate concern we will have big doubts. For this reason, many religious groups advocate that one should not doubt and this leads them commonly to also advocate that one should not think.

Personally, I do think and I think that advocating not thinking is not just dangerous but oppressive. Thought has its place and with it comes doubt. Now the non-specialist may think that what doubt indicates is "a debilitating worry about the meaning of taking a certain course of action that can end up in miserable inaction". This is true. Doubt can be extremely debilitating. In Zen this is called koan work. It is not just a matter for the non-specialist. Traditionally the koan should reach such an intensity that it is like an iron ball stuck in the jaws of a fish - the fish cannot spit it out, but cannot swallow it either. Faith is, inter alia, the faith to face out doubt - to relish it even. Even in the Theravada texts the Buddha says that there is no day as good as a day of striving. This is surely what he means. We live in the constant uncertainty of not knowing who or what we are or where we are going, yet we cannot help the up-surging will to meaning - we want to know. In spiritual traditions, this is equivalent to the dilemma of not knowing if one is saved or not. In Pureland, one chants the nembutsu with the faith that every single nembutsu has the power to save you and with the certainty that you cannot know whether you are, were or will be saved no matter how many nembutsu you utter, yet it matters more than anything else. Buddhism, not just Pureland, says that all confected things (samskaras) are impermanent, but it does not say that everything falls within that category. The Buddha also talks about "the Unborn". By definition, however, the Unborn cannot be contrived.We exist so we must do something with our life and so we have a craving for meaning, but we can never have certainty. Religiously, this means that we can conceive the divine but we cannot coerce it. The history of religion is full of efforts to do so which is quite understandable because people want to reduce the uncertainty and its concommitant anxiety and doubt. The locus of doubt, however, is also the point at which a person is most vibrantly alive.

Between Faiths

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T23:04:06+01:00

Buddhism is a missionary religion that, nonetheless, does not have as a core aim the conversion of all. Multiplicity of faiths is valued and buddhists have on occasion been instrumental in defending other faiths when they were threatened. As the Dalai lama asserts, the diversity of faith communities is fitting to the diversity of human personalities and cultures.

Religions are human artefacts. Even if some believe that their religion reflects the intention of their god, the work of putting that intention into effect has been human work. Actual religions are therefore never perfected and in all religions we see evolution over time. Exposure to dialogue with, critique by and competition or co-operation with other faith communities is often a significant element in this evolution. Religions influence and change one another. There is an ecology of faith communities.

What is needed is a sense of the value of that ecology and of the creativity and inspiration that it potentially and sometimes actually yields.

Notions of impermeability and exclusiveness or the more rigid forms of dogmatism are likely to confine a religious group to a niche position or to a short history. On the other hand, these notions do have a useful function sometimes ensuring seriousness of practice. Religion challenges people. Devotees may only stay the course if they feel held by a powerful cohesive force.

We cannot, therefore, just assume that all will be well if we all espouse the values of liberalism.

If religion cultivates awareness of universal love, then this should manifest in amity with others unconditionally, and especially with others who are supposedly similarly aware.

Inter-faith dialogue may serve a number of functions:
- resolving community tensions
- curiosity satisfaction
- cross-fertilization
- intuition of a meta-religious perspective

This last is a natural product or by-product. Faced with difference, people are bound to wonder about syntheses. This is a slightly different concept from the idea that "they are all fundamentally the same". It rests rather upon the idea that they are all incomplete coupled with an intuition that were they ever to be completed they would arrive at the same place.

Distinguishably One

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T22:45:57+01:00

In the system of Swedenborg, god is love-wisdom. Love and wisdom are "distinguishably one" meaning that you can talk about each separately but you never get one without the other. Wisdom without love is

not true wisdom and love without wisdom is not true love. This is like substance and form. Love is apparently the substance of god and wisdom the form. you never get substance without form nor vice versa.

This idea of the distinguishably one is useful in relation to the duality / non-duality debate in Buddhism. Many people assert that "Buddhism is non-dualistic" and suggest that this is its very hallmark. However, no student of the Pali Cannon - and world authorities like Bhikkhu Bodhi will concur on this - can find support there for such a characterization of what the historical Buddha taught, either in terms of content or style.

A most telling phrase is that which occurs in the Undana 80, "There is an unborn... or there would be no escape from the born..." This statement, of course, can be used by either camp. Non-dualists will say that "The unborn" means non-duality. Dualists will say that buddha is pointing out two worlds, viz. the born and the unborn. Both are right.

Swedenborg's system gives us the possibility of saying these positions are distinguishably one. This does not solve all the associated doctrinal problems, but it at least enables us to avoid a log jam before we even get going.

Swedenborf also profers two worlds that are distinguishably one, those of this world and the divine world. He develops the idea of "correspondences" between them.

With the Touch of Love

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T22:42:02+01:00

A poem sent to a friend on the anniversary of their friend's death.

Death is the time
When time condenses
When all time inhabits
Each precious moment
Completely

And when the dead are passed away
They remain
Touching
With the touch of love
From afar.

What Religion is for

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T22:38:23+01:00

The function of a religion is to provide
(a) a mythic structure - a spiritual form and vocabulary - that facilitates the exploration of the religious feeling as eidos, and
(b) a church body that enables the living out of that mythic structure thereby facilitating the exploration of religious feeling as morphos.

Eidos means form in the sense of the shape something has in our heart and mind, in our thought and affection. Morphos means form in the sense of the shape something takes in the concrete world and in action.
Religious feeling is never only something uniquely individual. Rather it is something intimately universal. The function of religion, therefore, is also to provide the above in a manner that facilitates
(c) an experience of communion-cum-encounter, within which there is enacted the chemistry of entrusting oneself to the meeting what is other - a transformative event; and
(d) works: co-operation in the service of what are perceived to be intrinsically worthwhile activities, not merely for the achievement of good(s) but as a means of testing faith in the real world.

The function of religion, therefore, is a spiritual maturation of persons, individually and collectively and the provision or co-creation of the forms that enable this. When the forms seem over-tightly drawn, we speak of dogmatism. When they are over-loose we have mere spirituality, a weak creature, and not the fullness of religion.

Immeasurable Life

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T22:36:20+01:00

In The Sutra of the Buddha of Immeasurable Life the Buddha says:
"Do not give rise to doubt after my parinirvana. In the future, when the time of the extinction of the sutras comes, out of compassion and pity I will cause this sutra in particular to survive and remain for one hundred years. Sentient beings who encounter this sutra will all, in accord with their aspiration, attain the other shore."

Religious Feeling

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T22:31:22+01:00

Einstein wrote: "You will hardly find one among the profounder sort of scientific minds without a religious feeling of his own... a rapturous amazement at the harmony of natural law, which reveals an intelligence of such superiority that, compared with it, all systematic thinking of human beings is utterly insignificant reflection."

Following an Angel

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T22:28:20+01:00

St Frances of Rome died on March 9, 1440. She was 56 years old. "The angel has finished his task" she said, "he beckons me to follow him." She was a follower of St Francis of Assisi. In 1411, her son, who had died age nine in the plague, appeared to her in a dream and described the splendour of heaven. After that she was always guided by an angel.

From Existence to Essence

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T22:23:27+01:00

Existentially, we are here. Somehow it is in our nature to ask, "Why? How? what does this mean?" Thus the search for essence proceeds from the particular nature of our sentience in the context of our existential situation. Perceiving finitude, we conceive infinity. Perceiving imperfection, we conceive perfection. It may be the perfection of good or of ill. Not only does our sentience seem to invite ideals and limit cases that lie outside the range of actual experience, but all the things that do lie within our experiential range seem capable of exhibiting a halo of more than "ordinary" significance. And, just as the physical things of our world give every evidence of having an existence that lies outside of our mind, so these essential phenomena seem to give evidence of a world of meaning that exists prior to any exercise of personal will.

All Time is Equidistant from the Ultimate

David Brazier — 2005-03-26T22:19:04+01:00

The meaning of history is untouched by the modes of past and future, by birth and death. Transcendence, therefore, can be defined neither as the beginning of time nor as the end of time, nor as the negation of time. It can be indicated only by the symbolic concepts of origin and ultimate, which do not mean either the first or the last moment of time, but something transcendent to which all modes of time are equally related. - Paul Tillich