This question was posed recently in a group I'm a part of, and I thought it was worth answering from my perspective because I'm a former Protestant who only very gradually became Catholic in his thinking.
One thing to note is that this is an issue that is not specific to Catholics. Members of Eastern Orthodox or Coptic Orthodox congregations who grew up primarily in the U.S. often have the same struggle of trying to reconcile their deeply-ingrained and culturally-acquired assumptions that stem from Protestant thinking with the ancient Christian religious tradition which predates such thinking and is different from it at a paradigmatic level.
This is not even an issue that is specific to members of Christian groups. Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, people who are part of various Indian traditions under the umbrella of Hinduism, and so on are often afflicted with this difficulty as well. That said, I'm going to examine the situation of Christianity in particular.
We who were raised in America generally inherit a set of intuitions about the meaning of the word "worship" and the word "pray", the nature of human social hierarchies, the nature of our relationship with religion, the place of the Bible in Christian life, the nature of the Church, what it means to be a Christian, and so on.
Because the United States was heavily influenced by Protestant Christians in its culture, its theological language, its popular ecclesiology, its view of the Bible, and its view of human nature, these intuitions are often Protestant intuitions.
I wrote a fairly lengthy series about my own journey to re-examining and ultimately rejecting those intuitions, and that was not an easy process, given how basic many of them are to someone raised in the United States.
For example, it took me quite a long time to shake the intuition that the Bible is the basis for Christian theological claims and truly understand that the Bible is a written record of early Christian theological claims. I thought that the Bible was what gave Christianity the authority. It turns out that Christian authority vested in the Church gave us the Bible.
It also took me many years to understand why my intuition that Mary's role as Queen of Heaven need not be emphasized was wrong, and to unpack the ways in which my American understanding of social hierarchy had unfairly prejudiced my view of the divine hierarchy.
I also had a defective understanding of my relationship to the Church. I viewed the Church as something I could accept or reject on intellectual grounds, not as the Body of Christ in its earthly fullness to be loved as I love my own body, just as Christ loves the Church.
This intuition that turned out to be false isn't something I developed on my own. I inherited it from an American culture that has largely agreed that attending churches is just a matter of individual preference in practice, even if in theory some of the congregations assent to the traditional ecclesiological view of the 1st-millennium Church that there is one true Church, and outside the one true Church of Christ there is no salvation.
In a similar way, there are many people in the United States who are raised Catholic and nonetheless take the typical post-Reformation view that leaving the Catholic Church to attend services with another congregation is just their personal choice. It's not a schism or anything serious like that. It's just a matter of doing what their conscience tells them.
And given this, it's not surprising that Americans don't see the Catholic Church as an authority to be obeyed, but rather an advisor on morality whose advice can be ignored, because the individual is the final arbiter of what is best for the individual. The Church can't really be an authority over an individual, because the individual is the ultimate authority.
This American individualism is so deeply rooted in the psyche of most Americans that even the most traditional Catholics who strive for obedience to the Church can struggle with it, sometimes going so far as to set themselves against the Church for not living up to their individual standards.
While some might focus on the problem with Protestant theological language flattening the definitions of the words "pray" and "worship" (for good reasons), I am more concerned about the more deeply-rooted intuitions which make it easy for us to rationalize leaving the Church or rejecting Her teaching while still being attached to the Church for other reasons.
Intuitions like these are doing real damage to the Corpus Christi, as they motivate an increasing number to leave, many to dissent, and some to grumble against the Church for not doing more to strike against those who dissent.
Though it's interesting to consider how American culture tends to make even Catholics and members of other ancient religious groups accept intuitions at odds with how their religious traditions understand the world, it's mostly just sad to watch the Body of Christ breaking again.
Ut unum sint.
Related: The Protestant Intuition: Divine Gifts & Human Works
Note: Above is a picture of Martin Luther's edited Bible translated into German.
I'm at the end of my wisdom, and here I will remain as its limits grow into the event horizon of love.
Quotation
He who learns must suffer, and, even in our sleep, pain that we cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God. - Aeschylus
Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buddhism. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 18, 2018
Saturday, July 14, 2018
The Letter of Bahá'u'lláh to Pope Pius IX
Recently, I was finally able to get a decent copy of an English translation of some of the writings of the Bahá'í faith. I realize that it's not common for Americans to order a book of Bahá'í writing, and folks may wonder, "Why would I do that?"
I haven't studied the Bahá'í faith is an much depth as Buddhism or Islam or various traditions under the umbrella of Hinduism, and I had a desire to at least lessen my ignorance about it.
I opened it up and quickly learned a few things. First, I learned that Bahá'u'lláh wrote a fair number of letters to people of prominence. He wrote to Pope Pius IX, Tsar Alexander II, Napoleon III, Queen Victoria, and the famous Sultan of Persia, Naser al-Din Shah Qajar.
I was a little surprised to see how prominently Bahá'u'lláh's letter to the Pope at the time was featured in the volume. I wasn't sure why the Pope would head up that list in a Bahá'í collection, and I wasn't sure why the Pope was included among a list of very powerful secular rulers of empires.
A little historical context helped me in that regard. It seems that Bahá'u'lláh or someone close to him was at least somewhat familiar with the political troubles in Europe at the time, given the people he chose to write to with warnings and exhortations.
It might look like Bahá'u'lláh was seeing the future in some supernatural way, given that an important part of his warning to the Pope Pius IX turned out to be prophetic-sounding after the events in Rome. He advises the Pope to leave behind his palaces, which would have seemed like very good advice to many people, given that the Pope's armies and city were conquered not too long after the letter was written.
But there were decades of problems leading up to Italy's conquest of the Papal territory, and it would have taken little insight from any non-prophet to predict that getting out of town was a good move for the Pope who prized his own safety first.
I also think it's unlikely that Bahá'u'lláh was actually concerned about giving such advice anyway. His purpose seemed to be primarily theological, given that Bahá'u'lláh opens his letter by exhorting the Pope to abandon his Christian theology and accept the Bahá'í faith. He goes on more in that vein later in the letter:
Like those in the Islamic tradition before him, Bahá'u'lláh viewed Christian theology as corrupted by men, but based on a genuine revelation from Allah. Also like them, he wanted those who had been granted access to the corrupted theologies to leave behind what they had been taught and to proclaim the pure and true revelation.
Bahá'u'lláh continues, as he goes on in the letter, to warn that Christian worship is actually a barrier between the Christian and Allah, and that being well-educated has not kept them from falling into error.
This passage might make it seem like Bahá'u'lláh was claiming to be Jesus Himself, God's Son who was to return at the end of time, but it's important to remember that in Bahá'í cosmology, religion is renewed periodically by Manifestations of God, people who are sent by God precisely for that purpose.
While Bahá'u'lláh seemed to view himself as one of the Manifestations of God, there were many others who were also viewed that way in his religious tradition, including Krishna, Zoroaster, Jesus, and the Buddha. He did not view any religion's revelatory claims as final, though they might be legitimately a partial revelation from Allah in terms of their moral content and theology.
Bahá'u'lláh expected that there would be more people like him to come, that Allah would send more messengers to humanity in other times and places. He was exhorting the Pope and all those he led to abandon their attachments to their current way of understanding religion and accept the latest revelation that he was providing as Bahá'u'lláh.
The renunciation of wealth, even of rich garments, continues to be emphasized as the letter continues. Bahá'u'lláh tells the members of religious orders to leave their cloisters, monasteries, abbeys, and priories so that they can proclaim the Kingdom of God to all the people.
As before, he sees their religious attachments as keeping them from God, and abandoning their current religion as the means to begin reaching God.
This portion of the letter seems to be referring to both the persecutions faced by the fledgling Bahá'í community and Bahá'u'lláh himself, who was imprisoned in Tehran. Being a religious leader has its risks, and facing capture and imprisonment and harsh treatment is certainly something that Bahá'u'lláh shares in common with Jesus, which may be why he uses the imagery of the crucifixion throughout this passage.
It's really a beautifully-written passage, and while it's not the most poetic religious work I've read, it does have a nice poetic element to it. We really see this poetry as we get into the direct appeal to the Pope as the Supreme Pontiff.
The exhortation to sell all the property and liturgical garments in the Papal State and live a life of personal asceticism as a public figure would not be out of place in any Protestant's letter to any Pope, but it is Bahá'u'lláh who is making it this time.
That said, Bahá'u'lláh tries to differentiate himself from the average person who writes the Pope to advise the Pontiff as to the best course of action.
I suspect that the Pope would be very suspicious indeed of anyone from Persia claiming that he was providing a new revelation from Allah and acting as though he were equal to Jesus in authority.
Oddly for a letter to the Pope, Bahá'u'lláh addresses people of all religions and follows it with very specific religious language that Christians and Jews would readily understand, but might be rather obscure to the average Hindu, Buddhist, or even a devout Muslim who had not read the Bible.
You may notice that many of the exhortations of Bahá'u'lláh are reiterations of passages from the Tanakh, the Christian New Testament writings, or the Qur'an. In this case, the part about remaining under the Covenant reminded me of a Quranic passage regarding the Jews as covenant-breakers.
Then he goes on to give them another title, which is "Children of the Kingdom." He tells Christians that they are in darkness, and they need to return to the Light.
Finally, Bahá'u'lláh gets to the crux of the matter. He makes it clear that the new revelation has priority, and that he is the new authority. His letter to the Pope was, from the perspective of Bahá'u'lláh, a letter to a leader of the Church whose deposit of faith had been emptied, a guardian of a flame that had long since been snuffed out by error and corruption.
Bahá'u'lláh saw himself as a Manifestation of God writing an epistle to the lowly Servant of the Servants of God. He understood himself as the Pen of Command, made by the Creator's hand to send these messages.
I'm not sure what Pope Pius IX thought of the letter, or if he even had the chance to read it. He was rather busy at the time with many problems. Nonetheless, I think that he might have been more interested by Bahá'u'lláh's account of his vision of the Maid of Heaven.
That might have been a more compelling place to start the letter to a Pope famous for his Mariology.
The above is a picture of my copy of The Summons of the Lord of Hosts.
I haven't studied the Bahá'í faith is an much depth as Buddhism or Islam or various traditions under the umbrella of Hinduism, and I had a desire to at least lessen my ignorance about it.
I opened it up and quickly learned a few things. First, I learned that Bahá'u'lláh wrote a fair number of letters to people of prominence. He wrote to Pope Pius IX, Tsar Alexander II, Napoleon III, Queen Victoria, and the famous Sultan of Persia, Naser al-Din Shah Qajar.
I was a little surprised to see how prominently Bahá'u'lláh's letter to the Pope at the time was featured in the volume. I wasn't sure why the Pope would head up that list in a Bahá'í collection, and I wasn't sure why the Pope was included among a list of very powerful secular rulers of empires.
"O POPE! Rend the veils asunder! He who is the Lord of Lords, the King of Kings, hath come overshadowed with clouds (Rev. 1:7) – the prophecy hath been fulfilled on the part of God, the Almighty, the Unconstrained. It is incumbent upon thee, therefore to dispel the clouds and proclaim Baha'u'llah, the splendor of the Authority of thy Lord; then ascend into the Kingdom of His names and attributes. Thus hath the Supreme Pen command thee, on the part of thy Lord, the Mighty, the Most Powerful.
Verily, He hath come again from heaven another time, even as He came down from it the first time (Jn. 3:13 KJV); beware lest thou oppose Him even as the Pharisees opposed Him the first time without evidence or proof. On His right hand floweth the living waters of grace and on His left hand the choice sweet Wine of Justice; whilst before Him march the angels of Paradise bearing the Divine Standard of His signs (Is. 11:11). Beware lest any name debar thee from God, the Creator of the earth and heaven. Leave thou the creatures and the world behind thee, and turn towards thy Lord, through Whom all the horizons of the earth hath been illumined. We have adorned the Kingdom with the ornament of Our name, El-Abha – The Brightest of Lights (Jn. 3:19-21); thus hath the matter been decided on the part of God, the Creator of all things. Beware lest your theologies and vain imaginations withhold thee after the Sun of Truth hath shone forth above the horizon of the Explanation of thy Lord, the Mighty, the Beneficent. Dost thou dwell in palaces, while the King of Revelation (Rev. 6:16) liveth in the most desolate of abodes? Leave palaces to those who desire them behind, then advance to the Kingdom with spirituality and fragrance."
A little historical context helped me in that regard. It seems that Bahá'u'lláh or someone close to him was at least somewhat familiar with the political troubles in Europe at the time, given the people he chose to write to with warnings and exhortations.
It might look like Bahá'u'lláh was seeing the future in some supernatural way, given that an important part of his warning to the Pope Pius IX turned out to be prophetic-sounding after the events in Rome. He advises the Pope to leave behind his palaces, which would have seemed like very good advice to many people, given that the Pope's armies and city were conquered not too long after the letter was written.
But there were decades of problems leading up to Italy's conquest of the Papal territory, and it would have taken little insight from any non-prophet to predict that getting out of town was a good move for the Pope who prized his own safety first.
I also think it's unlikely that Bahá'u'lláh was actually concerned about giving such advice anyway. His purpose seemed to be primarily theological, given that Bahá'u'lláh opens his letter by exhorting the Pope to abandon his Christian theology and accept the Bahá'í faith. He goes on more in that vein later in the letter:
"Beware lest theologies of men prevent thee from accepting the King of the known, or the world distract thee from Him who created it and set it upon its course. Arise in the name of thy Lord, the God of Mercy, amidst the peoples of the earth, and seize thou the Cup of life with the hands of confidence. First drink thou therefrom, and proffer it then to such as turn toward it amongst the peoples of all faiths. Thus hath the Moon of Explanation shone forth from the horizon of wisdom and evidence.
Rend asunder the veils of man-made theology lest they prevent thee from the court of Him Who is My Name, the Everlasting, the Self-Subsistent. Call thou to remembrance Him Who was the Spirit - Jesus - Who, when He came, the most learned of His age pronounced judgement against Him in His own country, whilst he who was only a fisherman believed in Him. Take heed, then, ye men of understanding heart! Thou, in truth, art one of the suns of the heaven of His names. Guard thyself, lest darkness spread its veils over thee, and fold thee away from His light. Look at that which has been sent down in the Bible on the part of thy Lord, the Almighty, the Generous.
Say: O assembly of learned men, withhold your pens, for the sound of the Supreme Pen hath been raised between the earth and the heaven. Set aside that which ye have and accept what We have explained unto thee with power and authority. That Hour which was hidden in the knowledge of God hath come, whereupon all the atoms of the earth have proclaimed: “The Ancient of Days (Dan. 7:9-10, 22) is Come seated upon David's throne! Hasten unto Him with submissiveness and penitence. O people of the earth!” Say: Lo, I made Myself your ransom for the sake of your lives (1 Tim. 2:5, 6), but when I come unto you another time (Heb. 9:28) I see you fleeing from Me (Rev. 6:16); therefore doth the eye of My compassion weep over My people; fear God, O ye people of observation."
Like those in the Islamic tradition before him, Bahá'u'lláh viewed Christian theology as corrupted by men, but based on a genuine revelation from Allah. Also like them, he wanted those who had been granted access to the corrupted theologies to leave behind what they had been taught and to proclaim the pure and true revelation.
Bahá'u'lláh continues, as he goes on in the letter, to warn that Christian worship is actually a barrier between the Christian and Allah, and that being well-educated has not kept them from falling into error.
"Consider those who opposed the Son, when He came unto them with sovereignty and power. How many the Pharisees who were waiting to behold Him, and were lamenting over their separation from Him! And yet, when the fragrance of His coming was wafted over them, and His beauty was unveiled, they turned aside from Him and disputed with Him. Thus have we expounded unto thee that which was written in the Bible and Holy Scriptures. None save a very few, who were destitute of any power amongst men, turned towards His face. And yet today every man endowed with power and invested with sovereignty prideth himself on His Name! In like manner, consider how numerous, in these days, are the monks who, in My Name, have secluded themselves in their churches, and who, when the appointed time was fulfilled, and We unveiled Our beauty, knew Us not, though they call upon Me at eventide and at dawn. We see them clinging to My Name—Jesus—yet veiled from Myself. Verily, this is a strange marvel (2 Thess. 2:11 KJV). Say: Beware lest your devotions preventeth you from meeting the One to Whom you are Devoted, and your worship debar you from the One Who is the Object of all Worship.
Rend asunder the veils of vain-imaginings and false expectation. Verily this is your Lord the Omnipotent, the Omniscient! He hath come for the life of the world, life abundantly, and to unite all who dwell upon the whole surface of the earth. Come ye, O people, to the Rising-place of Revelation and tarry not even for a moment. Do ye read the Gospel of the New Testament and yet still do not acknowledge the All-Glorious Lord? This beseemeth you not, O concourse of learned men!
Say: Should ye deny this Revelation, by what proof have ye believed in God? Produce it! Thus the matter hath been revealed (2 Thess. 2:3 KJV) by the Supreme Pen on the part of your Lord El-Abha, in this Epistle from whose horizon the Light has shone. How many servants are there whose actions and deeds (Rev. 20:12,13; 22:12) became veils for themselves whereby they were withheld (Rev. 21:27) from coming nearer to God, the Sender of Breath."
This passage might make it seem like Bahá'u'lláh was claiming to be Jesus Himself, God's Son who was to return at the end of time, but it's important to remember that in Bahá'í cosmology, religion is renewed periodically by Manifestations of God, people who are sent by God precisely for that purpose.
While Bahá'u'lláh seemed to view himself as one of the Manifestations of God, there were many others who were also viewed that way in his religious tradition, including Krishna, Zoroaster, Jesus, and the Buddha. He did not view any religion's revelatory claims as final, though they might be legitimately a partial revelation from Allah in terms of their moral content and theology.
Bahá'u'lláh expected that there would be more people like him to come, that Allah would send more messengers to humanity in other times and places. He was exhorting the Pope and all those he led to abandon their attachments to their current way of understanding religion and accept the latest revelation that he was providing as Bahá'u'lláh.
"O concourse of monks! The fragrances of the All-Merciful have wafted over all creation. Happy the man that hath forsaken his desires, and taken fast hold of guidance. Verily he is one of those who have attained unto the presence of God in this Day and gazing upon all the inhabitants of the earth seeth them frightened and terrorized (Isaiah 2:10, 19) save those chosen by God, He who layeth low the necks of men.
Do ye adorn your bodies while the garment of God is intensely red with the blood of hatred by that which came upon Him on the part of the people of willful blindness? Come out of your abodes and bid the people to enter into the Kingdom of God, the King of the Day of Judgment. The Word which the Son concealed is made manifest. It hath been sent down in the form of the human temple in this day. Blessed be the Lord Who is the Father! (Is. 9:6, 7) He, verily, is come unto the nations in His Most Great Majesty. Turn your faces towards Him, O concourse of the righteous!
O people of all religions! We see you are wandering erringly in the waterless desert of loss; ye are the fish of this Sea, why do ye withhold yourselves from your Sustainer? Verily, the Sea is surging before your faces; hasten unto Him from all regions. This is the day whereon the Rock (Peter) crieth out and shouteth, and celebrateth the praise of its Lord, the All-Possessing, the Most High, saying: “Lo! The Father is come, and that which ye were promised in the Kingdom is fulfilled!” This is the Word which was preserved behind the veil of might, and when the promised time came, it shone forth from the horizon of the Primal Will with manifest signs."
The renunciation of wealth, even of rich garments, continues to be emphasized as the letter continues. Bahá'u'lláh tells the members of religious orders to leave their cloisters, monasteries, abbeys, and priories so that they can proclaim the Kingdom of God to all the people.
As before, he sees their religious attachments as keeping them from God, and abandoning their current religion as the means to begin reaching God.
"My body hath borne imprisonment that your souls may be released from bondage, and We have consented to be abased that ye may be exalted. Follow the Lord of glory and dominion, and not every ungodly oppressor. My body longeth for the cross, and Mine head awaiteth the thrust of the spear, in the path of the All-Merciful, that the world may be purged from its transgressions. Thus the Sun of Wisdom hath shone forth from the horizon of the command of Him Who is the King of all names and attributes.
The people of the Qur'án have risen against Us, and tormented Us with such a torment that the Holy Spirit lamented, and the thunder roared out, and the eyes of the clouds wept over Us. From amongst the unbelievers some imagined that afflictions could withholdeth Baha from fulfilling that which God the Creator of All Things hath Willed. Say unto them: No, by Him who causeth the rains to fall, nothing withholdeth Him from the mention of His Lord.
By the Righteousness of God! Even though they burn Him on the earth, verily He will lift up His head in the midst of the sea, and will cry: “Verily, He is God of whatsoever is in the heaven and the earth!” And if they cast Him into a darksome pit, they will find Him seated on earth's loftiest heights calling aloud to all mankind: ''Lo, the Desire of the World is come in His majesty, His sovereignty, His transcendent dominion!'' And if He be buried beneath the depths of the earth, His Spirit soaring to the apex of heaven shall peal the summons: ''Behold ye the coming of Baha with the Kingdom of God, the Most Holy, the Gracious, the All-Powerful!'' And though they shed His blood, every drop thereof shall cry out and invoke God by this Name, whereby the perfume of His raiment is diffused throughout all regions."
This portion of the letter seems to be referring to both the persecutions faced by the fledgling Bahá'í community and Bahá'u'lláh himself, who was imprisoned in Tehran. Being a religious leader has its risks, and facing capture and imprisonment and harsh treatment is certainly something that Bahá'u'lláh shares in common with Jesus, which may be why he uses the imagery of the crucifixion throughout this passage.
It's really a beautifully-written passage, and while it's not the most poetic religious work I've read, it does have a nice poetic element to it. We really see this poetry as we get into the direct appeal to the Pope as the Supreme Pontiff.
"Though while threatened under the swords of the enemies, We call the people unto God, the Creator of the earth and heaven, and We assist Him so greatly that We could not be hindered either by the hosts of the oppressors nor the influence of the liars. Say, O people of the earth: Crush to pieces the idols of imagination, by the name of your Lord, the Mighty, the Benevolent, then advance unto Him in this Day, which God hath made the King of Days.
O Supreme Pontiff! Incline thine ear unto that which the Fashioner of mouldering bones counselleth thee, as voiced by Him Who is His Most Great Name. Sell all the embellished ornaments thou dost possess, and expend them in the path of God, Who causeth the night to return upon the day, and the day to return upon the night. Abandon thy kingdom unto the kings, and emerge from thy habitation, with thy face set towards the Kingdom, and, detached from the world, then speak forth the praises of thy Lord betwixt earth and heaven. Thus hath bidden thee He Who is the Possessor of Names, on the part of thy Lord, the Almighty, the All-Knowing. Exhort thou the kings and say: ''Deal equitably with men. Beware lest ye transgress the bounds fixed in the Book.'' This indeed becometh thee. Beware lest thou appropriate unto thyself the things of the world and the riches thereof. Leave them unto such as desire them, and cleave unto that which hath been enjoined upon thee by Him Who is the Lord of creation. Should any one come unto thee with the whole treasures of the earth, be as thy Lord hath been: turn not thy sight toward them. Thus hath the Tongue of Revelation uttered that which God hath made the ornament of the Book of Renovation.
Consider the pearl! Verily, its luster is in itself, but if thou coverest it with silk it assuredly veileth the beauty and qualities thereof. Such is man, his nobility is in his virtues, and not in that which covereth him, and not in toys and childish things (1 Cor. 13:11). Know, then, that thy true adornment is the Love of God and thy devotion to naught else save Him, and not to the allurements and luxuries of the world which thou hast in thy possession: leave them to those who desire them and come to God, who causeth the rivers to flow."
The exhortation to sell all the property and liturgical garments in the Papal State and live a life of personal asceticism as a public figure would not be out of place in any Protestant's letter to any Pope, but it is Bahá'u'lláh who is making it this time.
That said, Bahá'u'lláh tries to differentiate himself from the average person who writes the Pope to advise the Pontiff as to the best course of action.
"All that was said by the tongue of the Son was spoken in proverbs (parables and figures), whereas He who speaketh today speaks plainly and does not use them (Jn. 16:25 KJV). Beware not to take hold of the cord of vain-imagination and withhold thyself from the plain truth of what was ordained in the Kingdom of God, the Mighty, the Bounteous. Should the inebriation of the wine of My verses seize thee, and thou determinest to present thyself before the throne of thy Lord, the Creator of earth and heaven, make My love thy vesture, and thy shield remembrance of Me, and thy provision reliance upon God, the Revealer of all power.
O people of the Son! We have sent unto you once again John the Baptist (in the person of the Bab as My precursor). Verily, He crieth in the wilderness of the Bayan: “O Peoples of the world! Clear your eyes, for the day of vision and meeting the Promised One is now!” “O people of the Gospel, prepare the way, for the Day whereon the Glory of the Lord (Baha'u'llah) shall come (Mk. 8:38), hath drawn nigh. Prepare yourselves to enter His Kingdom.” Thus was the matter decreed on the part of God, Who causes Dawn to Break.
Hearken unto the strains which the Dove of Eternity hath sung upon the Branches of the Divine Lote Tree and which is vocal with the melody: “O peoples of the earth, We have sent unto you Him who was named John to baptize you with water that your bodies might be purified for the Appearance of the Messiah, the Christ. He in turn hath purified you with the Fire of Love and with the Water of the Spirit in preparation for These Days whereon the All-Merciful hath willed to cleanse your bodies with the Water of Life, by the hands of His loving-kindness. This is indeed the Father, whereof Isaiah gave you tidings (Isaiah 9:6, 7 and ch. 2 and 11), and the Comforter (John 16:7-15 KJV) from whom Jesus hath received His Covenant.” O concourse of learned people! Open your eyes that you may see your Lord sitting on the Throne (1 Chon. 29:23) in Glory and Might."Bahá'u'lláh makes the claim that his predecessor the Bab is John the Baptist returned to the Earth, once again preparing the way for a Manifestation of God. His frequent references to the New Testament and the Old Testament of the Bible may be meant to persuade the Pope, but I am very doubtful that it did anything to persuade.
I suspect that the Pope would be very suspicious indeed of anyone from Persia claiming that he was providing a new revelation from Allah and acting as though he were equal to Jesus in authority.
"Say, O people of all Religions! Be not of those who followed the Pharisees and thus they were veiled from the Messiah, the Christ. Verily, they are in forgetfulness and error. The Ancient Beauty hath come in the Most Great Name and hath desired to admit all the people into His Most Holy Kingdom, that the pure in heart may see the Kingdom of God before His Face (Mt. 5:8). Hasten unto Him and follow not every denying infidel. And if the eye of any one oppose him in this, it behooveth him to pluck it out (Mk. 9:47). Thus was it written by the Pen of the Ancient of Days as bidden by Him Who is the Lord of all creation. He hath verily come again a second time for your deliverance and salvation (Heb. 9:28). O people of creation, will ye kill Him yet once more, He Who desireth to grant you eternal Life? Fear God, O people of discernment.
O people! Hearken unto that which is revealed to you on the part of thy Lord in El-Abha. Turn unto God, the Lord of this life, and the life to come. Thus commandeth you the Rising-place of the Sun of Inspiration on the part of the Creator of all human kind. We have created you for the light, and We do not like to leave you for the fire. Come out, O people, therefore from darkness through this Sun of Reality which has shone forth from the horizon of the grace of God. Then advance unto Him with purified hearts and assured souls, seeing eyes and bright faces. This is that whereby the King of Fate admonisheth you, from the region of the Most Great Outlook, that ye may be attracted by the Voice to the Kingdom of His Names.
Blessed is he who remains under the provisions of the Covenant, and woe unto him who breaketh the promise and denieth God, the Knower of secrets. Say: Lo! This is the Day of Grace! Come ye that I may make you kings of the realm of My Kingdom (Rev. 1:6). If ye obey Me, you will see that which We have promised you, and I will make you the friends of My Soul in the realm of My Majesty (Is. ch. 35) and the Companions of My Beauty in the heaven of My Power forevermore. And if ye disobey Me (Deut. ch. 28), I will be patient through My Mercy, perchance that ye will awake and arise from the couch of heedlessness. Thus hath My forbearance preceded you. Fear God and follow not those who have turned away from the Face while they invoke His Name at the dawn-tide and in the night season too."
Oddly for a letter to the Pope, Bahá'u'lláh addresses people of all religions and follows it with very specific religious language that Christians and Jews would readily understand, but might be rather obscure to the average Hindu, Buddhist, or even a devout Muslim who had not read the Bible.
You may notice that many of the exhortations of Bahá'u'lláh are reiterations of passages from the Tanakh, the Christian New Testament writings, or the Qur'an. In this case, the part about remaining under the Covenant reminded me of a Quranic passage regarding the Jews as covenant-breakers.
"Verily, the Harvest Day hath come and all things are separated one from another. That which was chosen is stored in the vessels of justice, and into the fire was cast what was fitted for it. Thus hath decided thy Lord, the Mighty, the Beloved, in this Promised Day. Verily He ordaineth whatsoever He pleaseth. There is no God but He, the Mighty, the Subduer! The Sifter did not wish but to store every good thing for Myself. He did not speak but to inform you of My Cause and guide you into the Path of Him by whose mention all the sacred Books of the world are adorned.
Say: O concourse of Christians! We have, on a previous occasion, revealed Ourself unto you, and ye recognized Me not. This is yet another occasion vouchsafed unto you. This is the Day of God; turn ye unto Him. Verily He hath come down from heaven as He came down from heaven the first time (Jn. 3:13 KJV) and desired to shelter you under the shadow of His Mercy. Verily, He is the Exalted, the Mighty, the Defender. The Beloved One loveth not that ye be consumed with the fire of your desires. Were ye to be shut out as by a veil from Him, this would be for no other reason than your own waywardness and ignorance. Ye make mention of Me, and know Me not. Ye call upon Me, and are heedless of My Revelation and of My Appearance, after I have come unto you from the heaven of prophecy with My Most Great Glory. Burn away the veils in My Name through the Power of My Dominion that ye may find a way to the Lord.
The King of Glory continually proclaims from the horizon of the Pavilion of Might and Greatness saying: “O people of the Gospel! They who were not in the Kingdom have now entered it, whilst We behold you, in this day, tarrying at the gate. Rend the veils asunder by the power of your Lord, the Almighty, the All-Bounteous, and enter, then, in My Name My Kingdom. Thus biddeth you He Who desireth for you everlasting life. Verily, He is powerful over all things. Blessed are they who have known the light and hastened toward it. Behold! They are in the Kingdom, they eat and drink with the elect."The various titles which Bahá'u'lláh gives to Christians throughout the letter are interesting. From "People of the Son" to "People of the Gospel" he emphasizes the continuity of his proclamations with the existing Christian religious traditions while calling the faithful Christians out of them.
Then he goes on to give them another title, which is "Children of the Kingdom." He tells Christians that they are in darkness, and they need to return to the Light.
"We behold you, O children of the Kingdom, in darkness. This, verily, beseemeth you not. Are ye, in the face of the Light (Jn. 3:19-21), fearful because of your deeds? Direct yourselves towards Him. Verily, thy Glorious Lord hath honored His country by His coming, blessed His lands with His footsteps. Thus We teach you plainly the path to Him (Jn.14:6) whereof Jesus hath prophesied. I, verily, bear witness for him even as he hath borne witness unto Me. Verily, He said: "Come ye after Me, and I will make you to become fishers of men." In this day, however, We say: “Come ye after Me, that We may make you to become quickeners of mankind.” Thus has the decree been ordained in this Epistle written by the Pen of Command."
Finally, Bahá'u'lláh gets to the crux of the matter. He makes it clear that the new revelation has priority, and that he is the new authority. His letter to the Pope was, from the perspective of Bahá'u'lláh, a letter to a leader of the Church whose deposit of faith had been emptied, a guardian of a flame that had long since been snuffed out by error and corruption.
Bahá'u'lláh saw himself as a Manifestation of God writing an epistle to the lowly Servant of the Servants of God. He understood himself as the Pen of Command, made by the Creator's hand to send these messages.
I'm not sure what Pope Pius IX thought of the letter, or if he even had the chance to read it. He was rather busy at the time with many problems. Nonetheless, I think that he might have been more interested by Bahá'u'lláh's account of his vision of the Maid of Heaven.
That might have been a more compelling place to start the letter to a Pope famous for his Mariology.
The above is a picture of my copy of The Summons of the Lord of Hosts.
Monday, May 14, 2018
Fair Questions: How do religious doctrines confer an evolutionary advantage?
One of the questions that came up during the podcast that Sam Harris did with Bret Weinstein surprised me, although it shouldn't have. Bret's answer to that question also surprised me (and seemed fairly surprising to Sam Harris as well), but not in the sense that it cut against my intuitions about what the correct answer would be.
I was just surprised that he generally agreed with my answer, because other left-libertarian evolutionary biologists don't strike me as the sorts of individuals who ever would agree with me on this topic.
When Bret mentioned that he believed that specific religious doctrines had evolutionary value, I thought, "Well, of course." It seems very obvious that they do, given how pervasive religion is, and how evolutionary processes work.
The more interesting question is how that plays out with regard to certain doctrines, and that's what Sam Harris brought up very effectively with his example about the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation.
I can understand why Harris chose transubstantiation as his example. It's not obvious how that might confer an advantage in evolutionary terms.
One the other hand, the moral doctrine of the Catholic Church which states that it is wrong to use artificial contraceptives for selfish ends is much easier to understand as a doctrine that lends to evolutionary fitness. It's a doctrine that provides an incentive for those who are Catholic to be open to having more children, and that's generally going to improve evolutionary success for those Catholics, ceteris paribus.
But it isn't just the one doctrine. Bret's point that the structure of the religion has to be doing a lot of the work is a useful one, I think, for understanding the value of religion in evolutionary terms. Most people who are opposed to religion will admit that the communities formed under the banner of religion are strong and people find it difficult to leave those support systems.
This robust social support system as a function of religion has fairly obvious evolutionary value as well. But what is less obvious is how the intellectual structures of a religion confer an evolutionary advantage. Here is where I have some ideas to offer, although I'm afraid that I'm offering them in an overly simplistic formulation.
Let's take Buddhism as an example. Buddhism, when it is practiced (either to a greater or lesser degree) tends to reduce an individual's attachment to seeking pleasure and avoiding pain. And this allows individuals to act both more rationally and more compassionately, because the huge barrier we have to being more rational and compassionate is our inordinate focus on short-term interests that tends to lead to shorter and/or less healthy lives and thus fewer offspring in many cases.
So Buddhism's focus on reducing our attachments to seeking pleasure and avoiding pain for their own sake helps us mitigate behaviors that will reduce our evolutionary success, because it improves our ability to make rational decisions about resource utilization and fosters more pro-social behaviors.
But even within that general framework, we still can't easily explain how something specific and more spiritualized like the Mahayana Buddhist teaching on the transference of merit or the Roman Catholic teaching about indulgences fits into this picture. Nonetheless, I actually think it is explicable, albeit in a more subtle way and with some difficulty.
Both of these practices function to help us become less selfish the more we practice them. They may seem like mere pie-in-the-sky magical thinking to those who don't share their respective cosmologies, but what they are doing to us is gradually making us less likely to engage in the sort of immature short-term pleasure-seeking and pain-avoidance behaviors that ultimately make us less successful from an evolutionary standpoint.
They do this in a couple of ways. First, because these practices are prompting us to keep our focus on something other than ourselves, they are training the mind to be less self-centered in how it deals with the world. Second, because these practices take up the time that we might otherwise be inclined to worry about pleasure and pain, we are less likely to enter a downward spiral of anxious thinking and go back to our less valuable behaviors (from an evolutionary standpoint) in those moments.
These practices are just a small sample of the myriad religious practices that serve the same basic functions, and both ancient Buddhist and ancient Christian religious traditions have huge collections of such practices that together are a fairly comprehensive training program for reducing the ill effects of egotistical thinking and behavior. (Click here for more examples of this in the Catholic Church)
So most of the doctrines of religions are a part of the intellectual framework that help promote pro-social behaviors, reduce our reliance on transient pleasures that drives much of our egregiously irrational behaviors, and provides a motivating narrative for us as we navigate a difficult life.
The Roman Catholic teaching on transubstantiation or the Mahayana Buddhist teaching on the Buddha-nature may seem very far away from being valuable in terms of evolutionary success, but they are highly important as motivators. If you believe that God has given Himself to you for your salvation, and that He has gone so far as to give you His very body, that's a strong motivation to keep going in the face of struggles that might otherwise cause you to fall into fatalism.
In a similar way, if you believe that your Buddha-nature means that you have an opportunity to transcend all the suffering of this world, that's highly motivating and may keep you going through rough times so that you can have more offspring and be more successful from an evolutionary standpoint.
It may be that there are specific religious doctrines that, individually, are almost impossible to understand as useful in light of evolutionary processes, but I suspect that taken as a whole body of beliefs, most religions have pretty obvious evolutionary value.
Unless, of course, you're already committed to the view that they couldn't possibly improve human fitness from an evolutionary standpoint. And then it would be very difficult to think of those reasons.
Related: Fair Questions: How did religion help us survive?
I was just surprised that he generally agreed with my answer, because other left-libertarian evolutionary biologists don't strike me as the sorts of individuals who ever would agree with me on this topic.
When Bret mentioned that he believed that specific religious doctrines had evolutionary value, I thought, "Well, of course." It seems very obvious that they do, given how pervasive religion is, and how evolutionary processes work.
The more interesting question is how that plays out with regard to certain doctrines, and that's what Sam Harris brought up very effectively with his example about the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation.
I can understand why Harris chose transubstantiation as his example. It's not obvious how that might confer an advantage in evolutionary terms.
One the other hand, the moral doctrine of the Catholic Church which states that it is wrong to use artificial contraceptives for selfish ends is much easier to understand as a doctrine that lends to evolutionary fitness. It's a doctrine that provides an incentive for those who are Catholic to be open to having more children, and that's generally going to improve evolutionary success for those Catholics, ceteris paribus.
But it isn't just the one doctrine. Bret's point that the structure of the religion has to be doing a lot of the work is a useful one, I think, for understanding the value of religion in evolutionary terms. Most people who are opposed to religion will admit that the communities formed under the banner of religion are strong and people find it difficult to leave those support systems.
This robust social support system as a function of religion has fairly obvious evolutionary value as well. But what is less obvious is how the intellectual structures of a religion confer an evolutionary advantage. Here is where I have some ideas to offer, although I'm afraid that I'm offering them in an overly simplistic formulation.
Let's take Buddhism as an example. Buddhism, when it is practiced (either to a greater or lesser degree) tends to reduce an individual's attachment to seeking pleasure and avoiding pain. And this allows individuals to act both more rationally and more compassionately, because the huge barrier we have to being more rational and compassionate is our inordinate focus on short-term interests that tends to lead to shorter and/or less healthy lives and thus fewer offspring in many cases.
So Buddhism's focus on reducing our attachments to seeking pleasure and avoiding pain for their own sake helps us mitigate behaviors that will reduce our evolutionary success, because it improves our ability to make rational decisions about resource utilization and fosters more pro-social behaviors.
But even within that general framework, we still can't easily explain how something specific and more spiritualized like the Mahayana Buddhist teaching on the transference of merit or the Roman Catholic teaching about indulgences fits into this picture. Nonetheless, I actually think it is explicable, albeit in a more subtle way and with some difficulty.
Both of these practices function to help us become less selfish the more we practice them. They may seem like mere pie-in-the-sky magical thinking to those who don't share their respective cosmologies, but what they are doing to us is gradually making us less likely to engage in the sort of immature short-term pleasure-seeking and pain-avoidance behaviors that ultimately make us less successful from an evolutionary standpoint.
They do this in a couple of ways. First, because these practices are prompting us to keep our focus on something other than ourselves, they are training the mind to be less self-centered in how it deals with the world. Second, because these practices take up the time that we might otherwise be inclined to worry about pleasure and pain, we are less likely to enter a downward spiral of anxious thinking and go back to our less valuable behaviors (from an evolutionary standpoint) in those moments.
These practices are just a small sample of the myriad religious practices that serve the same basic functions, and both ancient Buddhist and ancient Christian religious traditions have huge collections of such practices that together are a fairly comprehensive training program for reducing the ill effects of egotistical thinking and behavior. (Click here for more examples of this in the Catholic Church)
So most of the doctrines of religions are a part of the intellectual framework that help promote pro-social behaviors, reduce our reliance on transient pleasures that drives much of our egregiously irrational behaviors, and provides a motivating narrative for us as we navigate a difficult life.
The Roman Catholic teaching on transubstantiation or the Mahayana Buddhist teaching on the Buddha-nature may seem very far away from being valuable in terms of evolutionary success, but they are highly important as motivators. If you believe that God has given Himself to you for your salvation, and that He has gone so far as to give you His very body, that's a strong motivation to keep going in the face of struggles that might otherwise cause you to fall into fatalism.
In a similar way, if you believe that your Buddha-nature means that you have an opportunity to transcend all the suffering of this world, that's highly motivating and may keep you going through rough times so that you can have more offspring and be more successful from an evolutionary standpoint.
It may be that there are specific religious doctrines that, individually, are almost impossible to understand as useful in light of evolutionary processes, but I suspect that taken as a whole body of beliefs, most religions have pretty obvious evolutionary value.
Unless, of course, you're already committed to the view that they couldn't possibly improve human fitness from an evolutionary standpoint. And then it would be very difficult to think of those reasons.
Related: Fair Questions: How did religion help us survive?
Sunday, April 8, 2018
Unfair Questions: Was Jesus a Buddhist monk named Issa?
Recently, an article which claims that "Jesus Was a Buddhist Monk Named Issa Who Spent Time in India and Tibet" was brought to my attention.
Given that I've studied both Buddhism and Christianity in an unusual amount of depth for a layperson, and that I've seen some interesting parallels between them, you might think that this is something I would leap to believe. But even when I was first introduced to it, I didn't buy in. I just thought it was an interesting possibility.
When I went to college for my first degree, I encountered this idea that perhaps Jesus traveled to India and became a Buddhist monk for a number of years before returning to his homeland. At the time, I thought it was an interesting and exciting idea (partially because this was shortly before I seriously considered converting to Buddhism).
Why does this theory remain so popular? For several reasons. The first being its explanatory power.
The explanatory power of this theory is that it explains where Jesus was between the Presentation at the Temple and the period of time shortly before his public ministry began at the Wedding at Cana. It fills a big narrative gap in the story of Jesus' life, which we like because we are not comfortable with narrative gaps once we notice them.
There's not inherently anything wrong with wanting to fill in gaps in our knowledge. That kind of desire is generally good. At the same time, we ought to be careful about how we find the missing pieces of knowledge. We need a way to assess which explanation is more likely to be accurate before using it to complete the narrative.
This helps us avoid getting conned. One common way of persuading people to believe falsehoods is to call their attention to a gap in their narrative, and then propose a way of filling that gap which pulls on their heartstrings and their confirmation bias leads them to believe without properly checking the evidence. (You can see this tactic being used in the BBC documentary displayed at the end of the article.)
The other appeal of the theory is that it fits the intuitions of many people who believe instinctively that for a religious figure to be the Way, the Truth, and the Life, he must be a cross-cultural figure with universal appeal. And because there is a high degree of fascination with Buddhism in the West along with high levels of residual belief in Christ, it's natural to gravitate to a theory that connects them and (from their perspective) lends legitimacy to both religious traditions.
It also pokes those stodgy close-minded establishment Christian groups in the eye and subverts their beliefs, which is another advantage for many who are cynical about the religious groups in their home countries in the West. These are the parts where the confirmation bias is coming in.
The trick here is validate folks' residual attachment to Jesus as a great religious figure and/or personal savior while also feeding their dislike of traditional Christian religious perspectives. Everyone involved gets to feel like they are subverting the oppressive traditional and institutional religious groups while at the same time confirming their own more enlightened views.
This isn't a new technique, and it's used quite regularly today, but if we're not aware of it, it's easy to fall for it, whatever your religious views might be.
All that said, what do we use to fill in the narrative gap?
The simple answer is that we examine competing theories and see which theory is supported by the available evidence.
Is the story told by Nicolas Notovitch, the theory that Jesus traveled to India and studied as a Buddhist, supported by the evidence?
No. Actually, a well-known scholar of Eastern religions (he prepared the English translations of the Jain works in my personal library), found out pretty quickly that Notovitch fabricated his claims.
Even Bart Ehrman, a secular scholar of the history of religions who is happy to prod traditional Christian believers using historical evidence, admits that this theory was just started as a hoax.
It takes only a short time to check this information, and does not require extensive research.
So why would people continue to peddle his theory?
I will leave it to my readers to fill in the gap in the narrative as to their motives.
Related: How similar are the births of the world's major religious figures?
Given that I've studied both Buddhism and Christianity in an unusual amount of depth for a layperson, and that I've seen some interesting parallels between them, you might think that this is something I would leap to believe. But even when I was first introduced to it, I didn't buy in. I just thought it was an interesting possibility.
When I went to college for my first degree, I encountered this idea that perhaps Jesus traveled to India and became a Buddhist monk for a number of years before returning to his homeland. At the time, I thought it was an interesting and exciting idea (partially because this was shortly before I seriously considered converting to Buddhism).
Why does this theory remain so popular? For several reasons. The first being its explanatory power.
The explanatory power of this theory is that it explains where Jesus was between the Presentation at the Temple and the period of time shortly before his public ministry began at the Wedding at Cana. It fills a big narrative gap in the story of Jesus' life, which we like because we are not comfortable with narrative gaps once we notice them.
There's not inherently anything wrong with wanting to fill in gaps in our knowledge. That kind of desire is generally good. At the same time, we ought to be careful about how we find the missing pieces of knowledge. We need a way to assess which explanation is more likely to be accurate before using it to complete the narrative.
This helps us avoid getting conned. One common way of persuading people to believe falsehoods is to call their attention to a gap in their narrative, and then propose a way of filling that gap which pulls on their heartstrings and their confirmation bias leads them to believe without properly checking the evidence. (You can see this tactic being used in the BBC documentary displayed at the end of the article.)
The other appeal of the theory is that it fits the intuitions of many people who believe instinctively that for a religious figure to be the Way, the Truth, and the Life, he must be a cross-cultural figure with universal appeal. And because there is a high degree of fascination with Buddhism in the West along with high levels of residual belief in Christ, it's natural to gravitate to a theory that connects them and (from their perspective) lends legitimacy to both religious traditions.
It also pokes those stodgy close-minded establishment Christian groups in the eye and subverts their beliefs, which is another advantage for many who are cynical about the religious groups in their home countries in the West. These are the parts where the confirmation bias is coming in.
The trick here is validate folks' residual attachment to Jesus as a great religious figure and/or personal savior while also feeding their dislike of traditional Christian religious perspectives. Everyone involved gets to feel like they are subverting the oppressive traditional and institutional religious groups while at the same time confirming their own more enlightened views.
This isn't a new technique, and it's used quite regularly today, but if we're not aware of it, it's easy to fall for it, whatever your religious views might be.
All that said, what do we use to fill in the narrative gap?
The simple answer is that we examine competing theories and see which theory is supported by the available evidence.
Is the story told by Nicolas Notovitch, the theory that Jesus traveled to India and studied as a Buddhist, supported by the evidence?
No. Actually, a well-known scholar of Eastern religions (he prepared the English translations of the Jain works in my personal library), found out pretty quickly that Notovitch fabricated his claims.
Even Bart Ehrman, a secular scholar of the history of religions who is happy to prod traditional Christian believers using historical evidence, admits that this theory was just started as a hoax.
It takes only a short time to check this information, and does not require extensive research.
So why would people continue to peddle his theory?
I will leave it to my readers to fill in the gap in the narrative as to their motives.
Related: How similar are the births of the world's major religious figures?
Thursday, February 8, 2018
Fair Questions: Why doesn't science show that Buddhist monks are less afraid of death?
Recently, I was pointed to an article in Newsweek which described a study that was done to test the hypothesis that the Buddhist belief that the self (as we generally think of it, a persisting reality) is an illusion would result in Buddhist monks having less fear of death compared to lay Buddhists, Hindus, and Christians.
This hypothesis was thoroughly falsified. The Tibetan Buddhist monks actually reported more fear of self-annihilation upon dying than any of the other groups. And in the test of selflessness (which should be a result of practicing the Buddhist focus on impermanence), they were actually less selfless than others. This was an interesting day for science, and it's always nice to see a hypothesis falsified, because that's scientific progress.
The researcher quoted in the Newsweek article seemed quite surprised by the results. I worry that this is largely because the researcher doesn't understand Buddhism very well, though I could be very wrong about that. My own grasp of Buddhism is better than the average Westerner (as you can see from my extensive writings on it), but is certainly not complete.
At the very least, you can read in the paper they wrote after the study that the researchers relied on knowledgeable Tibetan Buddhist scholar-monks to calibrate their survey questions and understand the degree to which the answers conformed to standard Tibetan Buddhist teaching. That's good methodology.
I do have some suspicions about the possible causes of the research results with regard to the Tibetan Buddhist monks being less selfless than the lay Buddhists in Tibet and Bhutan. I also have some suspicions with regard to the fact that they appeared to be more afraid of self-annihilation. Regarding the fear of self-annihilation, I think they need to do a comparable study with other Mahayana and Theravada Buddhists (both lay and monastic).
The reason I suggest that they should do more research with other Mahayana and Theravada Buddhists is that the Mahayana tradition generally and the Vajrayana tradition of Tibetan Buddhism specifically has some beliefs that are different from Theravada Buddhism which are relevant to how one would view death.
In Mahayana teachings, there's a strong emphasis on buddha-nature and Buddhahood, and actualizing Buddhahood would cause one to essentially live forever as a bodhisattva. Monks are traditionally considered to be the ones most likely to reach that state (as you can read here), and they would have the most to lose by self-annihilation upon death. On the other hand, lay Buddhists have to be resigned to the high probability of suffering a long time (perhaps millions or billions of years) on another plane of existence, so self-annihilation might not look so bad from their perspective.
Theravada teaching tends to more emphasize the cessation of existence within the cycle of saṃsāra (being reborn over and over again and suffering for all or most of eternity). From that perspective too, self-annihilation could look pretty good.
Another important point with regard to the selfishness of the monks when presented with the life-extending medicine is that traditional Buddhist teaching places monks and care for the basic material needs of monks very high on the moral priorities list because they are the most likely to become enlightened and escape saṃsāra. Therefore, one might have less incentive to extend the lifespan of someone who is very likely to die and be reborn in a naraka and suffer for millions or billions of years before getting another chance to be a monk and gain the opportunity to escape saṃsāra.
That said, there may be a deeper and simpler reason that serious Buddhist practitioners who meditate often would be more attached to their own continued existence. During deep meditation, one can find a tranquility or a bliss which far surpasses the banality of daily life in the quality of experience.
One can also notice that while there is no self in the way that we typically think of it as a persisting psychological reality, there is something which is aware of the contents of the psyche, and that something is what remains with us even after a deep meditation which changes us so dramatically that we can no longer pretend that there is a persisting psychological reality which is the ground of our being.
It is this something which is aware that presumably persists through the endless cycles of death and rebirth known as saṃsāra, through both the terrifying and torturous narakas and the highest heavenly planes. One would guess that Buddhist monastics would be highly cognizant of the fact that this something which persists through life after life, if it were to cease, would mean the cessation of their own being, and their chance at living on as an enlightened bodhisattva.
While none of them would believe that a simple lack of a persisting psychological reality (known popularly as the self) is anything to fear because meditation would make it obvious to them that it is not anything to fear, they might be quite fearful of the final cessation of that something which is aware.
After all, they've developed a closeness with it through meditation that most people never develop. They may have become attached to this something through long familiarity, and it may be wrenching to consider losing it forever, this truly persisting thing without which we would not experience bliss or tranquility (so far as we know).
I'm not saying that any of these beliefs or experiences are necessarily causally related to the greater fear of death or the selfish behavior of the Buddhist monks.
I don't know with certainty why Tibetan Buddhist monks would have a greater fear of death than lay Buddhists or members of other religions in the same geographical area.
But I do think the researchers need to consider the complexity of Buddhist beliefs when thinking about these experiments and what they measure.
Related: What is the role of the Sangha in Buddhism?
By Stephen Shephard - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1130661
This hypothesis was thoroughly falsified. The Tibetan Buddhist monks actually reported more fear of self-annihilation upon dying than any of the other groups. And in the test of selflessness (which should be a result of practicing the Buddhist focus on impermanence), they were actually less selfless than others. This was an interesting day for science, and it's always nice to see a hypothesis falsified, because that's scientific progress.
The researcher quoted in the Newsweek article seemed quite surprised by the results. I worry that this is largely because the researcher doesn't understand Buddhism very well, though I could be very wrong about that. My own grasp of Buddhism is better than the average Westerner (as you can see from my extensive writings on it), but is certainly not complete.
At the very least, you can read in the paper they wrote after the study that the researchers relied on knowledgeable Tibetan Buddhist scholar-monks to calibrate their survey questions and understand the degree to which the answers conformed to standard Tibetan Buddhist teaching. That's good methodology.
I do have some suspicions about the possible causes of the research results with regard to the Tibetan Buddhist monks being less selfless than the lay Buddhists in Tibet and Bhutan. I also have some suspicions with regard to the fact that they appeared to be more afraid of self-annihilation. Regarding the fear of self-annihilation, I think they need to do a comparable study with other Mahayana and Theravada Buddhists (both lay and monastic).
The reason I suggest that they should do more research with other Mahayana and Theravada Buddhists is that the Mahayana tradition generally and the Vajrayana tradition of Tibetan Buddhism specifically has some beliefs that are different from Theravada Buddhism which are relevant to how one would view death.
In Mahayana teachings, there's a strong emphasis on buddha-nature and Buddhahood, and actualizing Buddhahood would cause one to essentially live forever as a bodhisattva. Monks are traditionally considered to be the ones most likely to reach that state (as you can read here), and they would have the most to lose by self-annihilation upon death. On the other hand, lay Buddhists have to be resigned to the high probability of suffering a long time (perhaps millions or billions of years) on another plane of existence, so self-annihilation might not look so bad from their perspective.
Theravada teaching tends to more emphasize the cessation of existence within the cycle of saṃsāra (being reborn over and over again and suffering for all or most of eternity). From that perspective too, self-annihilation could look pretty good.
Another important point with regard to the selfishness of the monks when presented with the life-extending medicine is that traditional Buddhist teaching places monks and care for the basic material needs of monks very high on the moral priorities list because they are the most likely to become enlightened and escape saṃsāra. Therefore, one might have less incentive to extend the lifespan of someone who is very likely to die and be reborn in a naraka and suffer for millions or billions of years before getting another chance to be a monk and gain the opportunity to escape saṃsāra.
That said, there may be a deeper and simpler reason that serious Buddhist practitioners who meditate often would be more attached to their own continued existence. During deep meditation, one can find a tranquility or a bliss which far surpasses the banality of daily life in the quality of experience.
One can also notice that while there is no self in the way that we typically think of it as a persisting psychological reality, there is something which is aware of the contents of the psyche, and that something is what remains with us even after a deep meditation which changes us so dramatically that we can no longer pretend that there is a persisting psychological reality which is the ground of our being.
It is this something which is aware that presumably persists through the endless cycles of death and rebirth known as saṃsāra, through both the terrifying and torturous narakas and the highest heavenly planes. One would guess that Buddhist monastics would be highly cognizant of the fact that this something which persists through life after life, if it were to cease, would mean the cessation of their own being, and their chance at living on as an enlightened bodhisattva.
While none of them would believe that a simple lack of a persisting psychological reality (known popularly as the self) is anything to fear because meditation would make it obvious to them that it is not anything to fear, they might be quite fearful of the final cessation of that something which is aware.
After all, they've developed a closeness with it through meditation that most people never develop. They may have become attached to this something through long familiarity, and it may be wrenching to consider losing it forever, this truly persisting thing without which we would not experience bliss or tranquility (so far as we know).
I'm not saying that any of these beliefs or experiences are necessarily causally related to the greater fear of death or the selfish behavior of the Buddhist monks.
I don't know with certainty why Tibetan Buddhist monks would have a greater fear of death than lay Buddhists or members of other religions in the same geographical area.
But I do think the researchers need to consider the complexity of Buddhist beliefs when thinking about these experiments and what they measure.
Related: What is the role of the Sangha in Buddhism?
By Stephen Shephard - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=1130661
Sunday, January 29, 2017
A Reductive Philosophy of Religion
I've gotten in a habit of writing about writing lately. That may be simply be a product of having done so much of it over the past several years and having the opportunity to reflect. Specifically, I like to reassess the processes I use in my writing.
One reason for this is that I want to identify areas in which I can improve my writing, and the other is that I want to identify areas in which I can improve my thinking. Though what I primarily spend time on is self-assessment to identify my own mistakes and correct them, I have also noticed some mistakes made by other writers.
A common one that I try to avoid when writing about religion in the form of a philosophical exposition is the creation of what I call a reductive philosophy of religion. I've noticed that many intelligent bloggers, and journalists, and occasionally even professional philosophers have a tendency to manufacture a reductive philosophy of [insert religion here].
Nietzsche, for example, despite his very real brilliance, had a somewhat reductive understanding of Buddhism and Christianity. While he presented his case robustly, and I really enjoy his works in general, Nietzsche had significant gaps in his knowledge of both religions, as well as his knowledge of Judaism. I tend to think that he presented a reductive philosophy of religion to some extent, though perhaps to not as great an extent as some others among the Four (German) Horsemen of Atheism.
Certainly not all the folks writing about religion do this. But there are many, especially in journalism and blogging, who do frequently manage it. This is probably not their intention (though a few do seem to be malicious). I tend to think that most people covering the topic of religion through philosophical exposition are seeking to be respectful of the religion, but are following common intellectual practices that lead in the other direction.
What I mean by this is that they seem to use a couple of approaches that tend to produce a reductive philosophy of a particular religion or of religion in general.
The problem with these approaches is not that reading the texts is a bad idea or that understanding the philosophical propositions embedded in the religion is a bad idea. Both, I think, are quite necessary for performing any kind of philosophical exposition of a religion.
The problem, then, is that these approaches, even when combined, are insufficient for understanding a religion. Reading the texts is a great start, and considering precisely what sorts of philosophical propositions are found within the religion's teachings is also a good start.
So what else do we need to understand a religion properly? Reading the commentaries on the texts from highly educated and strongly devout practitioners of the religion is a good addition. Reading translator's notes is important. Reading about the historical context of the events being recounted in the text is necessary to understanding also.
Reading the testimonies of people who converted to the religion can be useful as well. Reading the profound experiences people had while practicing their religion can be quite eye-opening. But all this reading, extremely good as it is, isn't quite enough to really understand a religion.
Speaking to a normal everyday person who tries sincerely to live their religion's teachings is valuable in that regard. Attending the services of that religious group is just as necessary as reading the texts. And for those who really want to understand another religion, taking up its practices for a time adds a whole new dimension to understanding the religion.
More importantly, our experience of the religion can help us to view it and the people who practice it more holistically, more charitably, and more accurately. We can then convey the truths proclaimed by the religion more robustly and more fluently.
We can then see what is good, what is mediocre, and what is bad in the religion with more clarity. Not only that, but we can then articulate the beauty found in the religion, even the beauty in its flaws, with greater eloquence and genuine appreciation.
It is this genuine appreciation for what is true, what is good, and what is beautiful in each religious tradition that keeps us out of the most egregious pitfalls that lead to producing a reductive philosophy of religion.
Related: How can we dialogue with other religions respectfully?
Note: The above image is part of the cover of my copy of Nietzsche's collected works.
One reason for this is that I want to identify areas in which I can improve my writing, and the other is that I want to identify areas in which I can improve my thinking. Though what I primarily spend time on is self-assessment to identify my own mistakes and correct them, I have also noticed some mistakes made by other writers.
A common one that I try to avoid when writing about religion in the form of a philosophical exposition is the creation of what I call a reductive philosophy of religion. I've noticed that many intelligent bloggers, and journalists, and occasionally even professional philosophers have a tendency to manufacture a reductive philosophy of [insert religion here].
Nietzsche, for example, despite his very real brilliance, had a somewhat reductive understanding of Buddhism and Christianity. While he presented his case robustly, and I really enjoy his works in general, Nietzsche had significant gaps in his knowledge of both religions, as well as his knowledge of Judaism. I tend to think that he presented a reductive philosophy of religion to some extent, though perhaps to not as great an extent as some others among the Four (German) Horsemen of Atheism.
Certainly not all the folks writing about religion do this. But there are many, especially in journalism and blogging, who do frequently manage it. This is probably not their intention (though a few do seem to be malicious). I tend to think that most people covering the topic of religion through philosophical exposition are seeking to be respectful of the religion, but are following common intellectual practices that lead in the other direction.
What I mean by this is that they seem to use a couple of approaches that tend to produce a reductive philosophy of a particular religion or of religion in general.
- The first approach is the one which assumes that we can understand a religion well enough from its text(s) alone, or from a translation of those texts, and then critique the religion from our reading of the text(s).
- The second approach is the one which assumes that we can understand a religion as a set of philosophical propositions, isolated from its larger context and the experience of its practitioners, and then critique those propositions as if they were the religion.
The problem with these approaches is not that reading the texts is a bad idea or that understanding the philosophical propositions embedded in the religion is a bad idea. Both, I think, are quite necessary for performing any kind of philosophical exposition of a religion.
The problem, then, is that these approaches, even when combined, are insufficient for understanding a religion. Reading the texts is a great start, and considering precisely what sorts of philosophical propositions are found within the religion's teachings is also a good start.
So what else do we need to understand a religion properly? Reading the commentaries on the texts from highly educated and strongly devout practitioners of the religion is a good addition. Reading translator's notes is important. Reading about the historical context of the events being recounted in the text is necessary to understanding also.
Reading the testimonies of people who converted to the religion can be useful as well. Reading the profound experiences people had while practicing their religion can be quite eye-opening. But all this reading, extremely good as it is, isn't quite enough to really understand a religion.
Speaking to a normal everyday person who tries sincerely to live their religion's teachings is valuable in that regard. Attending the services of that religious group is just as necessary as reading the texts. And for those who really want to understand another religion, taking up its practices for a time adds a whole new dimension to understanding the religion.
More importantly, our experience of the religion can help us to view it and the people who practice it more holistically, more charitably, and more accurately. We can then convey the truths proclaimed by the religion more robustly and more fluently.
We can then see what is good, what is mediocre, and what is bad in the religion with more clarity. Not only that, but we can then articulate the beauty found in the religion, even the beauty in its flaws, with greater eloquence and genuine appreciation.
It is this genuine appreciation for what is true, what is good, and what is beautiful in each religious tradition that keeps us out of the most egregious pitfalls that lead to producing a reductive philosophy of religion.
Related: How can we dialogue with other religions respectfully?
Note: The above image is part of the cover of my copy of Nietzsche's collected works.
Monday, January 2, 2017
Fair Questions: How similar are the births of the world's major religious figures?
I recently stumbled upon a meme that was shared on a social media platform. The image above makes a variety of claims about pre-Christian religious figures in order to assert their similarity to Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps with the purpose of implying that Christianity's founding was derivative, a re-hashed old story.
Let's suppose for the sake of argument that Christianity's founding was just a re-hash of an old story. If so, the creator of this meme has completely failed to demonstrate that. If the creator had bothered to even go so far as to check the Wikipedia article on miraculous births of religious figures, he or she would have found that many of these claims about pre-Christian religious figures are simply false.
Let's take stock of the birth narratives of Horus, Mithra, Krishna, and Dionysus.
- According to Plutarch, Isis made a golden phallus so that Osiris could impregnate her after his own got tragically removed. Other tales have his penis surviving the adventure in the Nile so that he could impregnate her the old-fashioned way. The conception and birth of Horus wasn't exactly virginal.
- Last I checked, Mithra was either born of a rock or existed eternally, depending on whether we're talking about the Iranian or later Graeco-Roman understanding. Either way, not born of a virgin.
- Krishna's mother Devaki was married to a quite fertile husband and had 7 babies pass through her womb before Krishna came along. It seems rather unlikely that this would count as a virgin birth, and it doesn't seem as if it was intended to be.
- Depending on which Dionysus we're talking about, he could have been born of Zeus's thigh, a woman Zeus impregnated, or one of multiple goddesses Zeus impregnated. The only one that might have been a virgin is Semele, and I don't know of any textual evidence that she was said to be a virgin.
The birth narrative of the Buddha actually seems to be more similar to the birth narrative of Jesus Christ than these others listed here, and it's not particularly similar to the birth narrative of Christ, as you can read for yourself here.
The claims made in this meme about the births of the various pre-Christian religious figures are either flagrantly false or based on unclear evidence. And that's just the birth-related claims. It gets worse if we examine the other claims. For example, Krishna was not a carpenter, nor was he resurrected (though as an avatar of Vishnu he was repeatedly reborn), nor was he called "Son of God," a phrase that wouldn't even make sense in the Hindu pantheon.
One of his many titles is Son of Aditi, who is the mother of various Vedic gods. But because Hinduism is a broad term describing lots of different religions that share a similar cosmology, there are disagreements between texts and religious communities as to whether she can be identified with the Supreme Godhead Brahma.
There are actually similarities between Jesus and other religious figures. It's just that the creator of the above meme apparently didn't know about this: the better argument for the similarity between Dionysus and Jesus would be that both are dying-and-rising gods. But even there, the circumstances are not so similar that it appears to be a case of re-hashing another religion's story.
It seems really unfair to these various ancient religions to spread falsehoods about them, regardless of how noble the purpose of doing so might be. Surely, there are better ways to criticize Christianity than to lie about other religions.
I have a lot more respect for people who rationally critique Christianity head-on rather than critiquing Christianity by making false claims about other religious traditions.
* * *
Note: The image above is one of many memes that attempt to demonstrate that various religions are strikingly similar. There are many others, and they generally follow the same basic format of pretending lots of religions are much more similar than they actually are based on insufficient evidence at best and based on no evidence at worst.
Friday, November 11, 2016
The Unfettered Mind: The Strength of Faith
These past few weeks, I re-read The Unfettered Mind written by Takuan Sōhō. As I've mentioned before, I originally read it because of my interest in both martial arts and Zen Buddhism, and I find that my understanding of it now is deeper than it was when I was in my early twenties when I first read it.
After studying Theravada Buddhism more deeply over the past 5 years, I now find myself better able to understand what Takuan Sōhō was trying to convey to the master swordsman to whom he was writing.
The third part of The Unfettered Mind is entitled "Taiaki" in Japanese, and it refers to a sword named Taia. This part of the book is in a different format than the others. In it, Takuan Zenji provides brief thoughts in Chinese followed by explanations of those thoughts in Japanese. I'll be centering the Chinese starting texts and marking them in bold to indicate what they are.
"Taiaki" begins in a way that will help us understand the later passages more fully, establishing a pattern of insight.
The explanation offered to us here by Takuan Zenji is begun with humility, acknowledging the limits of his understanding of martial arts. Despite his limited understanding of martial arts, he has some valuable insights which apply to the discipline quite precisely.
He points out that when we stop striving to win, it enables us to win without striving. I've written before about wu wei, the process of acting efficaciously without action, which is the result of effortless being. And his description of fighting without striving very much captures the essence of those moments of my martial arts training during which I slipped into a state of wu wei, a state of mind empty of all selfishness that is all too rare an experience for me.
Whether during combat or in the daily struggles of life, we do not see the true self of our opponent, not even at the moment of death when he might reveal his most profound nobility, deepest rage, or rank cowardice. These things are no more the whole story of the essence of anyone's consciousness than our moments of cowardice, or rage, or nobility are the true Self we know to be within us.
Though each of those moments when we choose nobility, rage, or cowardice may shape the True Self, it nonetheless transcends such moments in an important way. And the more we awaken to what is called in the Mahayana tradition the Buddha-nature, the more we discover that the True Self is what remains when we have been stripped of our selfishness. Revealed in the fullest glory of its liberation from all craving, the True Self is truly selfless.
We are most true to ourselves when we are consistently selfless, recognizing that we are not separate from our opponent, that our existence is not an instance of duality but rather of unity.
Takuan Zenji tells us that six years of suffering preceded enlightenment. The path to accomplishing the selflessness which flows from divesting ourselves of all craving is an extremely difficult one. Suffering, if we embrace it consistently and let it strip us of our attachments to our transient selfish desires, gradually reveals the True Self.
But this takes so long to accomplish that we might wonder: who would spend years practicing meditation diligently and embracing suffering willingly? What would motivate someone to do something so extraordinary? It would require an extraordinary motivation, something to push us beyond the painful limits of normal achievement.
The Zen Master calls this the strength of faith, the strength that keeps us working peacefully towards selflessness for hours, weeks, years, or even decades. Faith is generally not something that is associated with Buddhism in the mind of the average Westerner, but in the Pāli Canon, the Buddha specifically directs us to have faith in the Buddha, the Dhamma he taught, and the Sangha which has preserved it.
The Buddha recognized that faith and inquiry, even deep inquiry into the nature of inquiry itself, are not opposed. And Takuan Zenji points out to us that it is the strength of our faith which motivates us to dive into the ocean of inquiry and swim to the other shore, seeking to learn wisdom from others along the way.
It is the strength of faith that allows us to keep swimming straight ahead, to continue the journey even while many others turn back in despair at the suffering it entails, or give up because of the humility required to consult the wisdom of those who have been long in the ocean of inquiry.
It is the strength of faith that finally brings us to the point at which the True Self within us is revealed to be the True Self within our opponent, and the strength of faith that keeps us on the path long enough to see that Heaven and Earth are a unity, not a duality.
Note: The above is an image of the book cover of the translation of The Unfettered Mind that I used for this post.
After studying Theravada Buddhism more deeply over the past 5 years, I now find myself better able to understand what Takuan Sōhō was trying to convey to the master swordsman to whom he was writing.
The third part of The Unfettered Mind is entitled "Taiaki" in Japanese, and it refers to a sword named Taia. This part of the book is in a different format than the others. In it, Takuan Zenji provides brief thoughts in Chinese followed by explanations of those thoughts in Japanese. I'll be centering the Chinese starting texts and marking them in bold to indicate what they are.
"Taiaki" begins in a way that will help us understand the later passages more fully, establishing a pattern of insight.
Presumably, as a martial artist, I do not fight for gain or loss, am not concerned with strength or weakness, and neither advance a step nor retreat a step. The enemy does not see me. I do not see the enemy. Penetrating to a place where heaven and earth have not yet divided, where Ying and Yang have not yet arrived, I quickly and necessarily gain effect.
Presumably indicates something I do not know for sure.
Originally, this character was read with the meaning "lid." For example, when a lid is put on a tier of boxes, although we do not know for sure what has been put inside, if we use our imaginations we will hit the mark six or seven times out of ten. Here also I do not know for sure, but figure tentatively that it must be so. Actually, this is a written form we use even about things we do not know for sure. We do this to humble ourselves and so as not to seem to be speaking in a knowing manner.
Martial artist is as the characters indicate.
Not to fight for gain or loss, not to be concerned with strength or weakness means not vying for victory or worrying about defeat, and not being concerned with the functions of strength or weakness.
Neither advance a step nor retreat a step means taking neither one step forward nor one step to the rear. Victory is gained without stirring from where you are.
The explanation offered to us here by Takuan Zenji is begun with humility, acknowledging the limits of his understanding of martial arts. Despite his limited understanding of martial arts, he has some valuable insights which apply to the discipline quite precisely.
He points out that when we stop striving to win, it enables us to win without striving. I've written before about wu wei, the process of acting efficaciously without action, which is the result of effortless being. And his description of fighting without striving very much captures the essence of those moments of my martial arts training during which I slipped into a state of wu wei, a state of mind empty of all selfishness that is all too rare an experience for me.
The me of "the enemy does not see me" refers to my True Self. It does not mean my perceived self.
People can easily see the perceived self; it is rare for them to discern the True Self. Thus I say, "The enemy does not see me."
I do not see the enemy. Because I do not take the personal view of the perceived self, I do not see the martial art of the enemy's perceived self. Although I say, "I do not see the enemy," this does not mean I do not see the enemy right before my very eyes. To be able to see one without seeing the other is a singular thing.
Well then, the True Self is the self that existed before the division of heaven and earth and before one's father and mother were born. This self is the self within me, the birds and the beasts, the grasses and the trees and all phenomena. It is exactly what is called the Buddha-nature.
This self has no shape or form, has no birth, and has no death. It is not a self that can be seen with the aid of your present physical eye. Only the man who has received enlightenment is able to see this. The man who does see this is said to have seen into his own nature and become a Buddha.
Whether during combat or in the daily struggles of life, we do not see the true self of our opponent, not even at the moment of death when he might reveal his most profound nobility, deepest rage, or rank cowardice. These things are no more the whole story of the essence of anyone's consciousness than our moments of cowardice, or rage, or nobility are the true Self we know to be within us.
Though each of those moments when we choose nobility, rage, or cowardice may shape the True Self, it nonetheless transcends such moments in an important way. And the more we awaken to what is called in the Mahayana tradition the Buddha-nature, the more we discover that the True Self is what remains when we have been stripped of our selfishness. Revealed in the fullest glory of its liberation from all craving, the True Self is truly selfless.
We are most true to ourselves when we are consistently selfless, recognizing that we are not separate from our opponent, that our existence is not an instance of duality but rather of unity.
Long ago, the World Honored One went into the Snowy Mountains, and after passing six years in suffering, became enlightened. This was the enlightenment of the True Self. The ordinary man has no strength of faith, and does not know the persistence of even three or five years. But those who study the Way are absolutely diligent for ten to twenty years, twenty-four hours a day. They muster up great strength of faith, speak with those who have wisdom, and disregard adversity and suffering. Like a parent who has lost a child, they do not retreat a scintilla from their established resolution. They think deeply, adding inquiry to inquiry. In the end, they arrive at the place where even Buddhist doctrine and the Buddhist Law melt away, and are naturally able to see "This."
Penetrating to a place where heaven and earth have not yet divided, where Ying and Yang have not yet arrived, I quickly and necessarily gain effect means to set one's eye on the place that existed before heaven became heaven and earth became earth, before Ying and Yang came into being. It is to use neither thought nor reasoning and to look straight ahead. In this way, the time of gaining great effect will surely arrive.
Takuan Zenji tells us that six years of suffering preceded enlightenment. The path to accomplishing the selflessness which flows from divesting ourselves of all craving is an extremely difficult one. Suffering, if we embrace it consistently and let it strip us of our attachments to our transient selfish desires, gradually reveals the True Self.
But this takes so long to accomplish that we might wonder: who would spend years practicing meditation diligently and embracing suffering willingly? What would motivate someone to do something so extraordinary? It would require an extraordinary motivation, something to push us beyond the painful limits of normal achievement.
The Zen Master calls this the strength of faith, the strength that keeps us working peacefully towards selflessness for hours, weeks, years, or even decades. Faith is generally not something that is associated with Buddhism in the mind of the average Westerner, but in the Pāli Canon, the Buddha specifically directs us to have faith in the Buddha, the Dhamma he taught, and the Sangha which has preserved it.
The Buddha recognized that faith and inquiry, even deep inquiry into the nature of inquiry itself, are not opposed. And Takuan Zenji points out to us that it is the strength of our faith which motivates us to dive into the ocean of inquiry and swim to the other shore, seeking to learn wisdom from others along the way.
It is the strength of faith that allows us to keep swimming straight ahead, to continue the journey even while many others turn back in despair at the suffering it entails, or give up because of the humility required to consult the wisdom of those who have been long in the ocean of inquiry.
It is the strength of faith that finally brings us to the point at which the True Self within us is revealed to be the True Self within our opponent, and the strength of faith that keeps us on the path long enough to see that Heaven and Earth are a unity, not a duality.
The Immovable Wisdom - The Selfless Death - The Strength of Faith
Note: The above is an image of the book cover of the translation of The Unfettered Mind that I used for this post.
Monday, October 31, 2016
Fair Questions: Did a Historical Jesus really exist?
This morning I ran across an article on the Washington Post's website entitled, "Did historical Jesus really exist? The evidence just doesn't add up." I thought perhaps it was going to make a stronger case than most of these sorts of articles, given that it specifically purported to deal with weighing the evidence.
Usually, these articles invoke vague doubts, but don't articulate a clear and useful standard of evidence, so I was looking forward to one that actually examined the evidence. After reading it, I do think that the author succeeded in looking at the evidence. That was a refreshing change of pace.
On the other hand, I have some concerns about the standard of evidence being used and lines of reasoning presented with regard to what we can conclude from that evidence. I thought that perhaps the article seemed to dismiss evidence unusually quickly and make odd leaps of logic because it had been edited significantly for length, so I looked at the original article.
Sadly, it didn't offer any more substance than the re-printed version in the Washington Post, though there were some minor edits that changed nothing of importance.
One important distinction the author (Raphael Lataster, a University Lecturer in Sydney) makes is the distinction between a "Historical Jesus" and a "Christ of Faith" as being two different persons whose existence can be considered separately. Later, he notes the difficulty in disentangling those two people as they are present in the Gospels, and suggests that perhaps Jesus was originally a pure myth about a divine figure who was later written about as being a man as well (a point I'll return to later).
To be fair, if one proposes that there is a "historical Jesus" as distinct from a "Christ of Faith" figure in the Gospels, it's hard to see how one could possibly draw a rational line between them. The Gospels are written with the deeply embedded idea that Jesus is simultaneously the Son of God and a Son of Man and make no effort to draw such a distinction, so it makes sense that it would be hard to tell based on the Gospels where the divine Jesus of Christianity begins and the mere man (however characterized) of many secular scholars ends.
And if the overwhelming majority of the earliest textual evidence is written with this assumption, then even drawing a distinction between a "historical Jesus" and a "Christ of Faith" might be impossible using those texts. It might make sense to, at this point, just remain uncertain about the very idea of a "historical Jesus" and back away slowly from trying to draw hand and fast conclusions about a "historical Jesus" from either the Gospels or the Epistles, those earliest of Christian texts.
If this was where Lataster had stopped, I think he would be standing on fairly solid ground. But he didn't stop there. He boldly ventured where others are unsure there is any ground at all when he suggested (as I mentioned earlier) the possibility that Jesus was originally a pure myth about a divine figure who was later written about as being a man as well.
Then went on to claim that 1 Corinthians 2:6-10 refers to demons when it mentions the "princes of this world" and that Paul's letters consistently taught a "celestial Jesus" or "Heavenly Jesus" as opposed to a human Jesus rather than in combination with a human Jesus. He points out the Paul doesn't spend much time describing Jesus' earthly life events and teachings in the Epistles, as if this was somehow supportive of the argument for Jesus as originally a pure myth.
But, as we all know, Paul was writing these letters to existing Christian communities in various places, churches full of people who would have already heard those stories and teachings (and probably caused them to believe in Christ). Given that he was already writing to people who already accepted the truth of Jesus' life and teachings, why would he spend a lot of time on that in his letters? Doesn't it actually make more sense for him to provide a theological explanation of how those teachings applied to their immediate problems and struggles, both communal and personal?
Doesn't it make more sense to clarify and synthesize those teachings rather than repeating them to people for whom those stories and teachings were already a standard part of their oral tradition? Why would Paul attempt to use those stories and teachings to (as Lataster suggests he should have) "bolster his own claims" when writing to people who already believed those claims?
I'm not sure why Lataster thinks that would be a good idea in the slightest. Sure, if Paul were writing a "Letter to the Heathens Who Tried to Kill Me" and trying to convince them from the ground up that his claims were rational, he might well do as Lataster thinks he ought to do and start with the events of Jesus' life and Jesus' teachings. That just wasn't at all what he was trying to do, and so it makes no sense to suggest that Paul should emphasize those things.
I think Lataster makes a much more useful point with regard to the Criterion of Embarrassment and the Criterion of Multiple (or Independent) Attestation. I would certainly agree that many people take the weight of the former to be far greater than it actually is and that the latter isn't satisfied very strongly by the writings of Josephus or Tacitus. The existence of references to Jesus in these works doesn't really function as strong evidence of his existence, and Christian apologists sometimes have an unfortunate habit of presenting them as if they do function as such.
There's definitely a problem of confirmation bias making many Christians, especially those who haven't studied history or literature very deeply, prone to think that the historical evidence for various Christian truth claims is stronger than it actually is. Unfortunately, rather than just acknowledging that this is a problem for Christians, Lataster waves away any truth value in the earliest Gospels by pointing out that the authors of the texts were biased.
I don't think this is a good approach for a very simple reason: every author is biased strongly toward their point of view. Unless you're willing to toss out the overwhelming majority of textual evidence for any event in human history, such a method also undercuts every single historical text Lataster (or anyone else) might use for any purpose other than casting doubt on every author whose work he cites.
Sure, we have to take into account bias, especially when the author makes claims that are very convenient against his opponents, for example. Or when the author seems not to apply his standards consistently. And I do wonder if Lataster applies his standard consistently. As I've mentioned before, the Pāli Canon wasn't recorded until several hundred years after the Buddha's passing on, which is pretty far removed compared to the Gospels of Christianity that were written decades after Jesus' death.
Does Lataster have the same concerns about bias and contemporaneous independent corroborating accounts with regard to the earliest Buddhist texts? Does he also propose strange interpretations of some of the suttas that completely ignore the audience for which they were written and the purpose of them? I don't know the answer to that question. Maybe he does, and if so, that's very much to his credit that he applies the same standards consistently, regardless of my disagreements with his standards.
Let's suppose for the sake of being charitable that he also doubts the veracity of the Buddha's discourses as recorded in the Pāli Canon because the monks didn't write them down until several hundred years after the "historical Gotama" passed on from this life just as he doubts the veracity of the Gospels written decades after Jesus' death (or maybe more so given the longer passage of time). That's a consistent standard, to be sure. It's just not the only one.
Because there is good scientific evidence that human beings are quite capable of preserving accurate information by oral tradition for many thousands of years and then communicating it effectively in a new language, it is by no means implausible that human beings similarly motivated by a significant event would do the same for mere decades or a few hundred years. That's why I tend to give texts based on oral tradition about a significant event the benefit of the doubt and assume that they were probably referring to a real event, though perhaps with liberal embellishment and literary license being employed to make a larger point.
Lataster spends a great deal of time near the end of his piece asking what the underlying sources are for the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John), who produced them, and what style of literature they were written in, among other things. I'm just not sure why he or anyone else assumes that there's some sort of written proto-Gospel that we're missing. The most parsimonious explanation is that the proto-Gospel is the oral tradition about Jesus' life, death, and resurrection.
Oral tradition is usually how these things start (as we can see in the case of Judaism and Buddhism and many other religions), and written records of those traditions generally come later once it's either technologically and/or economically feasible to write them down and spread them around. Which brings me to Lataster's suggestion that it's odd that only centuries after they were written would Christian apologists point to the works of Josephus or Tacitus as evidence that Jesus was a historical figure.
That's not odd in the slightest. Most people would not have doubted that the Gospels were evidence of the existence of some fellow named Jesus at the very least (and that's still true even of most anti-Christian historians today), though they might think many of the claims about him were utterly unbelievable and absurd. And the few people who did have those doubts probably didn't have some formal standard they applied consistently to historical texts that made it likely that they would accept the works of Josephus and Tacitus as evidence.
Frankly, given how little work those pieces of evidence do, I wouldn't expect Christian apologists to use them much at all. I certainly don't. One thing I do look to as evidence is how the texts were treated by those who were exposed to the Christian community during that time period. Though Lataster thinks that we can't know whether the Gospels were "intended to be accurate historical portrayals, enlightening allegories, or entertaining fictions", it seems to me that the reactions from the people who read the text suggest that it was not intended to be a set of entertaining fictions.
Whether it was the Gnostics who used the Gospels as the basis for their claims to a higher, more esoteric and secretive truth, or the Greeks and Romans who criticized its message philosophically, the people who were most likely to be familiar with the literary forms and intentions of the Gospel writers never treated it in the way that modern scholars who are far more distant from both the Christian community and the literature of the day do in the 21st century.
It may not be a coincidence that those most likely to understand the Gospels and the intent of the authors directly took it much more seriously than we do today. Whether they agreed or disagreed, they didn't do impressive intellectual gymnastics to find a way to invalidate the Gospels by pretending that the authors weren't actually referring to Jesus when they referred to Jesus.
Maybe the "historical Jesus" doesn't exist because the very concept is a reductionist attempt to find a way to separate the Son of Man from the Son of God in writings which present them as the same person. Maybe Jesus who is written of as having both human and divine natures has to be accepted or rejected as he's presented rather than whittled down into a form more palatable to people who aren't as bold as Lataster, people who are unwilling to go so far as to say that there was no historical Jesus, but are entirely willing to pretend that Jesus was actually just a nice guy who agreed with their modern views despite there being even less evidence of that than the alternative.
Either way, it's important to have a consistent standard of evidence when we deal with questions like this, and that's something I hope Lataster's work can encourage, if it accomplishes nothing else.
Painting by Amédée Varin - http://www.culture.gouv.fr/GOUPIL/IMAGES/101_Christ_sur_eau.jpg (Gravures et eaux fortes), Public Domain, Link
Usually, these articles invoke vague doubts, but don't articulate a clear and useful standard of evidence, so I was looking forward to one that actually examined the evidence. After reading it, I do think that the author succeeded in looking at the evidence. That was a refreshing change of pace.
On the other hand, I have some concerns about the standard of evidence being used and lines of reasoning presented with regard to what we can conclude from that evidence. I thought that perhaps the article seemed to dismiss evidence unusually quickly and make odd leaps of logic because it had been edited significantly for length, so I looked at the original article.
Sadly, it didn't offer any more substance than the re-printed version in the Washington Post, though there were some minor edits that changed nothing of importance.
One important distinction the author (Raphael Lataster, a University Lecturer in Sydney) makes is the distinction between a "Historical Jesus" and a "Christ of Faith" as being two different persons whose existence can be considered separately. Later, he notes the difficulty in disentangling those two people as they are present in the Gospels, and suggests that perhaps Jesus was originally a pure myth about a divine figure who was later written about as being a man as well (a point I'll return to later).
To be fair, if one proposes that there is a "historical Jesus" as distinct from a "Christ of Faith" figure in the Gospels, it's hard to see how one could possibly draw a rational line between them. The Gospels are written with the deeply embedded idea that Jesus is simultaneously the Son of God and a Son of Man and make no effort to draw such a distinction, so it makes sense that it would be hard to tell based on the Gospels where the divine Jesus of Christianity begins and the mere man (however characterized) of many secular scholars ends.
And if the overwhelming majority of the earliest textual evidence is written with this assumption, then even drawing a distinction between a "historical Jesus" and a "Christ of Faith" might be impossible using those texts. It might make sense to, at this point, just remain uncertain about the very idea of a "historical Jesus" and back away slowly from trying to draw hand and fast conclusions about a "historical Jesus" from either the Gospels or the Epistles, those earliest of Christian texts.
If this was where Lataster had stopped, I think he would be standing on fairly solid ground. But he didn't stop there. He boldly ventured where others are unsure there is any ground at all when he suggested (as I mentioned earlier) the possibility that Jesus was originally a pure myth about a divine figure who was later written about as being a man as well.
Then went on to claim that 1 Corinthians 2:6-10 refers to demons when it mentions the "princes of this world" and that Paul's letters consistently taught a "celestial Jesus" or "Heavenly Jesus" as opposed to a human Jesus rather than in combination with a human Jesus. He points out the Paul doesn't spend much time describing Jesus' earthly life events and teachings in the Epistles, as if this was somehow supportive of the argument for Jesus as originally a pure myth.
But, as we all know, Paul was writing these letters to existing Christian communities in various places, churches full of people who would have already heard those stories and teachings (and probably caused them to believe in Christ). Given that he was already writing to people who already accepted the truth of Jesus' life and teachings, why would he spend a lot of time on that in his letters? Doesn't it actually make more sense for him to provide a theological explanation of how those teachings applied to their immediate problems and struggles, both communal and personal?
Doesn't it make more sense to clarify and synthesize those teachings rather than repeating them to people for whom those stories and teachings were already a standard part of their oral tradition? Why would Paul attempt to use those stories and teachings to (as Lataster suggests he should have) "bolster his own claims" when writing to people who already believed those claims?
I'm not sure why Lataster thinks that would be a good idea in the slightest. Sure, if Paul were writing a "Letter to the Heathens Who Tried to Kill Me" and trying to convince them from the ground up that his claims were rational, he might well do as Lataster thinks he ought to do and start with the events of Jesus' life and Jesus' teachings. That just wasn't at all what he was trying to do, and so it makes no sense to suggest that Paul should emphasize those things.
I think Lataster makes a much more useful point with regard to the Criterion of Embarrassment and the Criterion of Multiple (or Independent) Attestation. I would certainly agree that many people take the weight of the former to be far greater than it actually is and that the latter isn't satisfied very strongly by the writings of Josephus or Tacitus. The existence of references to Jesus in these works doesn't really function as strong evidence of his existence, and Christian apologists sometimes have an unfortunate habit of presenting them as if they do function as such.
There's definitely a problem of confirmation bias making many Christians, especially those who haven't studied history or literature very deeply, prone to think that the historical evidence for various Christian truth claims is stronger than it actually is. Unfortunately, rather than just acknowledging that this is a problem for Christians, Lataster waves away any truth value in the earliest Gospels by pointing out that the authors of the texts were biased.
I don't think this is a good approach for a very simple reason: every author is biased strongly toward their point of view. Unless you're willing to toss out the overwhelming majority of textual evidence for any event in human history, such a method also undercuts every single historical text Lataster (or anyone else) might use for any purpose other than casting doubt on every author whose work he cites.
Sure, we have to take into account bias, especially when the author makes claims that are very convenient against his opponents, for example. Or when the author seems not to apply his standards consistently. And I do wonder if Lataster applies his standard consistently. As I've mentioned before, the Pāli Canon wasn't recorded until several hundred years after the Buddha's passing on, which is pretty far removed compared to the Gospels of Christianity that were written decades after Jesus' death.
Does Lataster have the same concerns about bias and contemporaneous independent corroborating accounts with regard to the earliest Buddhist texts? Does he also propose strange interpretations of some of the suttas that completely ignore the audience for which they were written and the purpose of them? I don't know the answer to that question. Maybe he does, and if so, that's very much to his credit that he applies the same standards consistently, regardless of my disagreements with his standards.
Let's suppose for the sake of being charitable that he also doubts the veracity of the Buddha's discourses as recorded in the Pāli Canon because the monks didn't write them down until several hundred years after the "historical Gotama" passed on from this life just as he doubts the veracity of the Gospels written decades after Jesus' death (or maybe more so given the longer passage of time). That's a consistent standard, to be sure. It's just not the only one.
Because there is good scientific evidence that human beings are quite capable of preserving accurate information by oral tradition for many thousands of years and then communicating it effectively in a new language, it is by no means implausible that human beings similarly motivated by a significant event would do the same for mere decades or a few hundred years. That's why I tend to give texts based on oral tradition about a significant event the benefit of the doubt and assume that they were probably referring to a real event, though perhaps with liberal embellishment and literary license being employed to make a larger point.
Lataster spends a great deal of time near the end of his piece asking what the underlying sources are for the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John), who produced them, and what style of literature they were written in, among other things. I'm just not sure why he or anyone else assumes that there's some sort of written proto-Gospel that we're missing. The most parsimonious explanation is that the proto-Gospel is the oral tradition about Jesus' life, death, and resurrection.
Oral tradition is usually how these things start (as we can see in the case of Judaism and Buddhism and many other religions), and written records of those traditions generally come later once it's either technologically and/or economically feasible to write them down and spread them around. Which brings me to Lataster's suggestion that it's odd that only centuries after they were written would Christian apologists point to the works of Josephus or Tacitus as evidence that Jesus was a historical figure.
That's not odd in the slightest. Most people would not have doubted that the Gospels were evidence of the existence of some fellow named Jesus at the very least (and that's still true even of most anti-Christian historians today), though they might think many of the claims about him were utterly unbelievable and absurd. And the few people who did have those doubts probably didn't have some formal standard they applied consistently to historical texts that made it likely that they would accept the works of Josephus and Tacitus as evidence.
Frankly, given how little work those pieces of evidence do, I wouldn't expect Christian apologists to use them much at all. I certainly don't. One thing I do look to as evidence is how the texts were treated by those who were exposed to the Christian community during that time period. Though Lataster thinks that we can't know whether the Gospels were "intended to be accurate historical portrayals, enlightening allegories, or entertaining fictions", it seems to me that the reactions from the people who read the text suggest that it was not intended to be a set of entertaining fictions.
Whether it was the Gnostics who used the Gospels as the basis for their claims to a higher, more esoteric and secretive truth, or the Greeks and Romans who criticized its message philosophically, the people who were most likely to be familiar with the literary forms and intentions of the Gospel writers never treated it in the way that modern scholars who are far more distant from both the Christian community and the literature of the day do in the 21st century.
It may not be a coincidence that those most likely to understand the Gospels and the intent of the authors directly took it much more seriously than we do today. Whether they agreed or disagreed, they didn't do impressive intellectual gymnastics to find a way to invalidate the Gospels by pretending that the authors weren't actually referring to Jesus when they referred to Jesus.
Maybe the "historical Jesus" doesn't exist because the very concept is a reductionist attempt to find a way to separate the Son of Man from the Son of God in writings which present them as the same person. Maybe Jesus who is written of as having both human and divine natures has to be accepted or rejected as he's presented rather than whittled down into a form more palatable to people who aren't as bold as Lataster, people who are unwilling to go so far as to say that there was no historical Jesus, but are entirely willing to pretend that Jesus was actually just a nice guy who agreed with their modern views despite there being even less evidence of that than the alternative.
Either way, it's important to have a consistent standard of evidence when we deal with questions like this, and that's something I hope Lataster's work can encourage, if it accomplishes nothing else.
Painting by Amédée Varin - http://www.culture.gouv.fr/GOUPIL/IMAGES/101_Christ_sur_eau.jpg (Gravures et eaux fortes), Public Domain, Link
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
The Unfettered Mind: The Selfless Death
Please listen to the embedded podcast version or read the written version of this post below.
This past week, I re-read The Unfettered Mind written by Takuan Sōhō. Because of my interest in both martial arts and Zen Buddhism, I had read it many years ago, but like many books I re-read later in life, I find that my understanding of it now is deeper than it was when I was in my early twenties.
After studying Buddhism more deeply over the past 5 years, I now find myself better able to understand what Takuan Sōhō was trying to convey to master swordsman and instructor Yagyū Munenori.
The second part of The Unfettered Mind is entitled "The Clear Sound of Jewels" and has an interesting exposition on the relative value of life and right-mindedness. Appropriately, Takuan Zenji begins with life.
As many Zen masters do, he subverts conventional beliefs and assumptions. In this case, he points out that it is the humble who are more likely to die a good death of right-mindedness, not the proud and mighty ones who think themselves wise because they lack the humble self-awareness of the servant class.
He also points out that at the moment when we choose to die, we inevitably decide what is more valuable than life. We can die for light, insubstantial reasons. Many people do. But we can also die for right-mindedness, and this is a weighty reason to die.
Here we see that Takuan Zenji is exploring the arguments for various positions on right-mindedness and how common it is to die for right-mindedness. His interlocutor correctly claims that it is right-mindedness that is most valuable, but goes on to suggest that men in general value it most of all.
This is where our Zen master parts ways with him; a Zen priest knows too well from a life of self-denial that even among those who know that right-mindedness is greater than the desire for wealth or life, it is rare that anyone consistently puts this knowledge into practice in his mind.
The next interlocutor makes the claim that many people die for right-mindedness, but for the wrong reasons. Takuan Zenji understandably asks how anyone could possibly die for the wrong reasons while being right-minded.
He goes on to explain that dying because one has been dishonored or insulted is by definition something other than right-mindedness. There is nothing right-minded about giving in to anger. When we are angry, our minds are filled with selfishness (in the form of a need to attack what is pricking our ego) and have no room for the loving-kindness that comes from right-mindedness. Right-mindedness is not some grand selfishness that leads to unthinking rage.
He rightly observes that we tend to lionize those who die without really knowing their intentions at the time of their death. We rarely know when someone's death was truly a selfless act of benevolence or when they had the clarity of mind to judge correctly that it would be right to die.
More interestingly, Takuan Zenji tells us that this selfless benevolence, this sacrifice of one's life for the right reasons, is the very substance out of which all life grows. He tells us that when we partake in it, we become virtuous, we follow the Way, and we become compassionate and respectful. So how do we partake in this Principle of Heaven?
Here he points out to Yagyū Munenori that as a warrior in the service of a daimyo, almost everything he has is a gift from his lord. And when we are given such an immense set of gifts, we naturally feel grateful and seek to reciprocate the great gifts we have been given.
The radical act of giving one's self in the service of one who has given you much is the right-minded death. It is not the death that follows from being enthralled by rage and brought on by egotistical insecurities. It is not the death of a social climber seeking to advance himself and his descendants in fame and wealth and power.
It is, in short, not a selfish death. To die for right-mindedness is to die because one is, in that moment of sacrifice, truly selfless. Such a death, which is a gift freely given to one's lord who has given so generously to you, is the selfless death.
Note: The above is an image of the book cover of the translation of The Unfettered Mind that I used for this post.
This past week, I re-read The Unfettered Mind written by Takuan Sōhō. Because of my interest in both martial arts and Zen Buddhism, I had read it many years ago, but like many books I re-read later in life, I find that my understanding of it now is deeper than it was when I was in my early twenties.
After studying Buddhism more deeply over the past 5 years, I now find myself better able to understand what Takuan Sōhō was trying to convey to master swordsman and instructor Yagyū Munenori.
The second part of The Unfettered Mind is entitled "The Clear Sound of Jewels" and has an interesting exposition on the relative value of life and right-mindedness. Appropriately, Takuan Zenji begins with life.
"There is nothing dearer to us than life. Whether a man be rich or poor, if he does not live out a long life, he will not accomplish his true purpose. Even if one had to throw away thousands in wealth and valuables to do so, life is something he should buy.
It is said that life is of small account compared with right-mindedness. In truth, it is right-mindedness that is most esteemed.
Nothing is more precious than life. Yet, at the moment when we throw away this valued life and stand on right-mindedness, there is nothing more highly esteemed than right-mindedness.
Looking carefully at the world, we can see that there are many people who throw away their lives lightly. But do you suppose one person in a thousand would die for right-mindedness? It would seem that among the humble servant class, contrary to what you might expect, there are many who would. Yet it would be difficult for people who think themselves wise to do the same."
As many Zen masters do, he subverts conventional beliefs and assumptions. In this case, he points out that it is the humble who are more likely to die a good death of right-mindedness, not the proud and mighty ones who think themselves wise because they lack the humble self-awareness of the servant class.
He also points out that at the moment when we choose to die, we inevitably decide what is more valuable than life. We can die for light, insubstantial reasons. Many people do. But we can also die for right-mindedness, and this is a weighty reason to die.
"As I was saying such things half to myself while passing a long spring day, a certain man came up and said something like this:
'While wealth truly pleases our hearts, having life is the greatest wealth of all. So when it comes to the moment of reckoning, a man will throw away his wealth to keep his life intact. But when you think that a man will not hesitate to throw away the life he so values for the sake of right-mindedness, the value of right-mindedness is greater than life itself. Desire, life, right-mindedness--among these three, isn't the latter what man values most?'
At that time, I replied something along these lines.
'Desire, life, and right-mindedness--to say that right-mindedness is the most valued among these three is only natural. But to say that all men without exception value right-mindedness the most among these three misses the mark. There is no man who simply values desire and life but keeps right-mindedness in his thoughts.'"
Here we see that Takuan Zenji is exploring the arguments for various positions on right-mindedness and how common it is to die for right-mindedness. His interlocutor correctly claims that it is right-mindedness that is most valuable, but goes on to suggest that men in general value it most of all.
This is where our Zen master parts ways with him; a Zen priest knows too well from a life of self-denial that even among those who know that right-mindedness is greater than the desire for wealth or life, it is rare that anyone consistently puts this knowledge into practice in his mind.
"Then another man said, 'Wealth is a jewel of life. Without life, wealth is useless, so life alone is valuable. However, it is said that there are many who lightly throw away their lives for right-mindedness.'
I asked, 'Is any man able to take his life lightly for the sake of right-mindedness?'
He responded, 'There are many people in this world who cannot abide being insulted and who will quickly, along with their foes of the moment, throw away their lives in a fight. This is having right-mindedness foremost in mind and taking one's life lightly. It is dying for right-mindedness rather than for wealth or life.
Those who were cut down in the face of battle--their number can hardly be known. All were men who died for right-mindedness. With this in mind, it can be said that all men value right-mindedness over desire and life.'
I said, "Dying because someone is vexed at being insulted resembles right-mindedness, but it is not that at all. This is forgetting oneself in the anger of the moment. It is not right-mindedness in the least. Its proper name is anger and nothing else. Before a person has even been insulted, he has already departed from right-mindedness. And for this reason, he suffers insult. If one's right-mindedness is correct when when he is associating with others, he will not be insulted by them. Being insulted by others, one should realize that he had lost his own right-mindedness prior to the offense.'"
The next interlocutor makes the claim that many people die for right-mindedness, but for the wrong reasons. Takuan Zenji understandably asks how anyone could possibly die for the wrong reasons while being right-minded.
He goes on to explain that dying because one has been dishonored or insulted is by definition something other than right-mindedness. There is nothing right-minded about giving in to anger. When we are angry, our minds are filled with selfishness (in the form of a need to attack what is pricking our ego) and have no room for the loving-kindness that comes from right-mindedness. Right-mindedness is not some grand selfishness that leads to unthinking rage.
"Right-mindedness is a matter of extreme importance. Its substance is none other than the Principle of Heaven, which gives life to all things. When this is acquired by the human body, it is called one's nature. Its other names are virtue, the Way, human-heartedness, probity and propriety. While the name changes according to the situation, and though its function is different, in substance it is only one thing.
When this is written as human-heartedness and the situation involves human intercourse, its function is benevolence.
When it is written as right-mindedness and the situation involves social station and integrity, its function is in making no mistakes in clarity of judgment.
Even in dying, if one has not hit upon the principle therein, he has no right-mindedness, albeit some think that if a person just dies, he had this quality."
He rightly observes that we tend to lionize those who die without really knowing their intentions at the time of their death. We rarely know when someone's death was truly a selfless act of benevolence or when they had the clarity of mind to judge correctly that it would be right to die.
More interestingly, Takuan Zenji tells us that this selfless benevolence, this sacrifice of one's life for the right reasons, is the very substance out of which all life grows. He tells us that when we partake in it, we become virtuous, we follow the Way, and we become compassionate and respectful. So how do we partake in this Principle of Heaven?
"Right-mindedness is considered to be the substance devoid of perversity that is the core of the human mind; and in using the straightness in that core of the mind as a plumbline, everything produced will exhibit right-mindedness.
Disregarding this core and dying because of desire is not a right-minded death. As for those people we mentioned who die for right-mindedness, can there be even one in thousand who would truly do do?
In regard to this, from the time one has been taken into a daimyo's service, of the clothes on his back, the sword he wears at his side, his footgear, his palanquin, his horse and all of his materiel, there is no single item that is not due to the favor of his lord. Family, wife, child, and his own retainers--all of them and their relations--not one can be said not to receive the lord's favor. Having these favors well impressed on his mind, a man will face his lord's opponents on the battlefield and cast away his one life. This is dying for right-mindedness.
This is not for the sake of one's name. Nor for gaining fame, a stipend and a fief. Receiving a favor and returning a favor--the sincerity of the core of the mind consists solely of this."
Here he points out to Yagyū Munenori that as a warrior in the service of a daimyo, almost everything he has is a gift from his lord. And when we are given such an immense set of gifts, we naturally feel grateful and seek to reciprocate the great gifts we have been given.
The radical act of giving one's self in the service of one who has given you much is the right-minded death. It is not the death that follows from being enthralled by rage and brought on by egotistical insecurities. It is not the death of a social climber seeking to advance himself and his descendants in fame and wealth and power.
It is, in short, not a selfish death. To die for right-mindedness is to die because one is, in that moment of sacrifice, truly selfless. Such a death, which is a gift freely given to one's lord who has given so generously to you, is the selfless death.
The Immovable Wisdom - The Selfless Death - The Strength of Faith
Note: The above is an image of the book cover of the translation of The Unfettered Mind that I used for this post.
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