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 teach
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First published in UK 1995 by Hodder Education, 338 Euston Road, London, NW1 3BH.

First published in US 1995 by The McGraw-Hill Companies, Inc.

This edition published 2003.

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Copyright © 1995,2001,2003 Clive Erricker

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Impression number 10
Year 2010 2009 2008 2007
 contents
introduction vii
01 Buddhists and Buddhism 1
who are Buddhists? 2
02 the life of the Buddha 19
the Buddha’s significance 20
03 the Buddha’s teaching 35
the first Noble Truth: all is suffering (dukkha) 37
the second Noble Truth: the origin of
suffering (samudaya) 38
the third Noble Truth: the cessation of
suffering (nirodha) 50
the fourth Noble Truth: the path to the
cessation of suffering (magga) 54
04 Buddhist scriptures and schools 60
the Theravada scriptures 62
the Mahayana scriptures 65
Pure Land Buddhism 73
the Ch’an and Zen schools 74
the Tibetan Scriptures 81
05 meditation and devotion 84
training the mind 86
06 ethical conduct 101
sila and skilfulness 102
07 moral issues 115
the natural world 116
human society 121
08 the social order 129
ordination 130
celibacy 130
weddings and marriage 131
family life 131
death and dying 140
 09 festivals and ceremonies 146
iv
Theravada festivals 147
o
o Tibetan festivals 155
3
©
3
Japanese and Chinese festivals 159
0) Western Buddhist festivals 163
10 Buddhism today: east and west 164
the spread of Buddhism 165
the Tibetan situation 168
Theravada Buddhism today 173
the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order 176
11 transition, adaptation and influence:
propsects for Buddhism in the twenty-first
century 182
into the twenty-first century 183
views from the West 192
taking it further 201
further reading 201
useful addresses 205
website addreses 206
glossary 208
index 212
Acknowledgements
To Jane for encouragement and criticism, hard work
on the word-processor and forgiveness.
To Katy, Sam and Polly for putting up with it all.
To Karin for generously making the offer.
To Karunavira for the interviews.
The publishers would like to thank the following for
their permission to reproduce copyright photographs
in this book:
FWBO - p. 176; C Erricker - pp. 26, 32, 47, 61,139,
142,150,154,163,170; Peter Iseli - p. 66 (left); Andy
Weber - p.66 (right), p. 69 (left); P Gold, Wisdom
Publications - pp. 98,172.
Every effort has been made to trace and acknowledge
ownership of copyright. The publishers will be glad to
make suitable arrangements with any copyright holder
whom it has not been possible to contact.
 ? introduction
This book is about what Buddhists think, what they do, and
how they live their lives. This varies according to the type of
Buddhism that is practised and where each Buddhist lives;
essentially, however, all Buddhists follow the teachings of the
Buddha - the Fully Enlightened One - as they have been
transmitted over the last 2,500 years. Varied sources have
been drawn on in order to evoke the spirit of Buddhism and
allow Buddhists to speak for themselves.
Buddhism today is very diverse; this diversity contributes to its
richness, and nowhere more so than in the West. Moreover,
Buddhism offers teachings and practices that are open to
anyone with a little intellectual curiosity and the willingness to
accept that the modern world can benefit from ancient and
timeless wisdom.
For the second edition a new chapter was added and the
Further Reading was extended. The importance of the
additional chapter is twofold. Firstly, it updates an
understanding of Buddhism in the modern world, its changes
and new directions, which weren’t so apparent eight years ago
when this book was first completed. Secondly, it pays more in-
depth attention to the impact of world affairs and current
concerns, both globally and in the West, on the characteristics
of Buddhist groups.
In my own view there is a very real challenge to those within
the diverse Buddhist communities to respond to significant
and rapid changes that have taken place as we move through
the first years of the twenty-first century. This is not to
presume that this hasn’t been the case previously but, with the
Buddhist emphasis on living in the present moment, I have
fashioned the last chapter to highlight questions of values,
necessarily important to Buddhists, that are of contemporary
global and community importance rather than just relating to
individuals. In doing so, I have posed further questions as to how
Buddhist responses to these issues impact on understandings of
Buddhism, interpretations of dharma (teachings), sangha
(community) and tradition.

Note on terminology
Due to the difference in languages used by the Theravadin and
Mahayanist branches of Buddhism (Pali and Sanskrit
respectively), Buddhist terms can appear in two forms: for
example, dhamma (Pali) and dharma (Sanskrit). The Buddha’s
name also varies accordingly: Siddhatta Gotama (Pali) and
Siddhartha Gautama (Sanskrit). The glossary indicates the
alternative renditions of terms used in this book.
Buddhism
Buddhists and

In this chapter you will learn:

• the basic Buddhist teachings
and what makes them
distinctive
• about the Buddhist idea of
community
• about the practical effects of
the Buddhist teachings and
idea of community, and how
these are related to the way
Buddhists try to live their
lives and respond to the
world around them.
 Thus shall ye think of all this fleeting world:
A star at dawn, a bubble in a stream,
C0 00
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aa A flickering lamp, a phantom, and a dream.
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This is a question that many people in the West might well ask.
The quotation above is from the Buddha himself, and one
answer to our question is that Buddhists are those who
understand the world in this way. But such a statement is easily
misunderstood, so perhaps we should start by approaching our
question in a less poetic fashion.

How would Buddhists today answer it? Some might reply that
Buddhists are the followers of the Buddha and his teachings.
Whilst this is an accurate response, it is open to
misunderstanding. For example, Buddhists do not follow the
Buddha in the same way as Christians follow Christ. The reason
for this is that the Buddha is not understood to be a god; nor did
he teach his disciples a way to God. Indeed, he did not even
claim that his teachings were a unique and original source of
wisdom; but he did maintain that they had a very specific
practical purpose and that they were meant to be useful.

Buddha always said, ‘Don’t take what I’m saying, just try
to analyse as far as possible and see whether what I’m
saying makes sense or not. If it doesn’t make sense,
discard it. If it does make sense, then pick it up.’
(John Bowker, Worlds of Faith, BBC, 1983, p 134)

Another way of answering the question might be to say that

Buddhists practise the dhamma (Pali) or dharma (Sanskrit). This
word has a range of meanings that interconnect. Most
importantly, dharma means truth, law or teaching. Thus,
Buddhists are stressing that the Buddha’s teaching pointed to the
truth; and moreover, that they are practising what the Buddha
preached, truthful living, which is open to everyone.

The Dhamma can be practised by anybody. It can be

practised by any man, woman, even by any child. It can
be practised by someone in India, and it can be practised
by someone in England. By someone in America, or
someone in China. If there are people on the moon, it can
be practised by those people on the moon. The Dhamma
is universal... it’s for everybody - for every human being.
Because every human being is the brother or sister of
 every other human being. The more we practise the
Dhamma, the more we come together. It doesn’t matter
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(Ven. Sangharakshita, Friends of the Western Buddhist 3
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Order, Newsletter No.54, p 2)
A third answer to the question would be to say that Buddhists
are those who belong to the sangha. Sangha means community.
Often it denotes the monastic community, but in a broader sense
it refers to Buddhists in general. It could be said that Buddhists
are part of the sangha in the way that Christians belong to the
Church. However, the distinction of belonging to the Buddhist
community is a commitment to living a life that cultivates well¬
being and happiness through following particular teachings,
rules and practices. Sometimes the members of the sangha are
referred to as ‘spiritual friends’.
For twenty-five centuries the Community has held
Buddhism together. It is a refuge for the weary and an
ideal of renunciation, a source of leadership and a
standard of permanence in times of cultural change. It is
an institution, and thus always available to those who
need it. The religious vocation is given a home, the seeker
is given a path, and the life of brotherhood is established
as a model for all mankind.
(Stephan Beyer, The Buddhist Experience, Dickenson,
1974, p 65)

If we put all three answers together we arrive at a more

complete understanding of what it means to be a Buddhist.

The Three Jewels

The Buddha, dhamma or dharma and sangha are known as the
Three Jewels, the implication of this being that they are what
Buddhists hold most dear in life. It is usual to make a
commitment to them; this takes place in a formal ceremony
which marks the intention to live a life that can be summarized
in a verse found in the Dhammapada, a popular compilation of
the Buddha’s teaching:

Not to do evil
To cultivate good
To purify one’s mind.
 The importance of this commitment is made clearer by
contrasting these Three Jewels with what Buddhists understand
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latter, Buddhists understand the purpose of life.

The Three Refuges

The Buddha, dhamma (dharma) and sangha are also known as
the Three Refuges. Refuge is not used in its negative sense of
hiding away from something; rather, it means that which
provides safety and the possibility of growth, that which you
can put your trust in. For this reason, the formal recitation of
the Three Jewels is described as ‘going for refuge’. Although
Buddhists of different persuasions would want to say a lot more
about what this means and involves, we may begin here by
saying that a Buddhist is one who has taken refuge in the
Buddha, dhamma and sangha; from here, like the Buddha
himself when he resolved to leave home in search of wisdom, he
or she ‘goes forth’.

Through the simple act of reciting this formula three times, one
declares oneself a Buddhist:

I go for refuge to the Buddha

I go for refuge to the Dhamma
I go for refuge to the Sangha.

The implication of this act is radically to reassess personal

priorities and goals, as this passage written by a Japanese
Buddhist teacher describes:

Taking refuge is the first step on the Buddhist path to

inner freedom, but it is not something new. We have been
taking refuge all our lives, though mainly in external
things, hoping to find security and happiness. Some of us
take refuge in money, some in drugs. Some take refuge in
food, in mountain-climbing or in sunny beaches. Most of
us seek security and satisfaction in a relationship with a
man or a woman. Throughout our lives we have drifted
from one situation to the next, always in the expectation
of final satisfaction. Our successive involvements may
sometimes offer temporary relief but, in sober truth,
 seeking refuge in physical possessions and transient
pleasures merely deepens our confusion rather than
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(Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mindy Beginner's Mind, 3" DT
55' 55'
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Buddhist practice
What does this Buddhist way of life involve? First and foremost
it is a practical path through life.
It is only useful to you if it’s practical. For me it is. I
developed my meditation into an awareness and
mindfulness and learned to do just what I was doing at any
one time and nothing else. I find I pick up on things much
quicker and am more open to other people. I have a better
perspective on things and am more in touch with myself.

In a business context, I’ve begun to investigate my

motives for doing the things I do in the business world.
What do we really need? Food, shelter, clothes and
medicine. That’s about it. Of course I’m not perfect. I do
lose it sometimes. I’m only human. But my practice
decreases the percentage.
(Paul Queripel, in Target Magazine, April 1988, p 12)

The Buddha’s message stresses that speculation about the way

things are is of little value. He spoke of investigating the human
situation as a doctor investigates an illness, needing both
diagnosis and cure. His teaching is a prescription. Speculation
and discussion that does not focus on this is of no help. In a
well-known passage he says that, if someone were struck by an
arrow, he would not refuse to have it taken out until he knew
who shot the arrow, whether he were married or not, what he
looked like and so on: he would simply concentrate on
removing it. In this way he indicated that he was not concerned
with discussing the questions often regarded as of religious
importance; for example, who created the world? how did it
come into being? and so forth. These were considered by the
Buddha as questions not tending to edification: what essentially
matters is the here and now. Treading the Buddhist path should
lead to a transformation in the self: a continuous refining of
both thought and action, of the way we relate to others and to
the world we live in and finally of our self-understanding.
 In the West, because of our lack of contact with traditionally
Buddhist societies, erroneous views of Buddhism are prevalent.
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(A W inward and being unconcerned with everyday affairs. Buddhism
3 ff is often believed to be a highly abstract philosophical system,
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a academic and self-absorbing, of no value to the ordinary person.
Such views would have bemused the Buddha, and possibly
brought a wry smile to his face; however, they represent a
barrier to understanding present-day Buddhists.

The Five Precepts (Panca Sila)

At the heart of Buddhist ethical practice are the Five Precepts.
These are rules which identify the aspirations of a Buddhist.
They are not commandments; rather, they are the minimum
essential ‘prescription’ for treating the human condition, and an
antidote to the three poisons: greed, aversion or hatred, and
ignorance or delusion. They consist of the following
undertakings:
1 I undertake to observe the precept to abstain from
harming living beings.

2 I undertake to observe the precept to abstain from

taking things not freely given.

3 I undertake to observe the precept to abstain from

sexual misconduct.

4 I undertake to observe the precept to abstain from

false speech.

5 I undertake to observe the precept to abstain from

intoxicating drinks and drugs causing heedlessness.
(adapted from Niyamatolika, The Word of the Buddha,
The Buddhist Publication Society, 1971, p xii)

Of course, if carrying out these undertakings were as simple as

it might seem, things would soon be well and good. However,
the purpose of this commitment is, at least in part, to investigate
what is really involved in leading this virtuous way of life. Thus,
the more diligently you attempt to put the undertakings into
practice, the more aware you become of their significance. This
accords with the Buddha’s exhortation that one should find
things out for oneself. The cure can be prescribed by the doctor
- but the patient must administer it and see if it works.
 Of whatever teachings you can assure yourself in this
way, these teachings lead to calmness, not to neurotic
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(Vinaya, 11:10, quoted in F.L.Woodward, Some Sayings

of the Buddha, The Buddhist Society, London, 1974)

The Buddhist way of life is meant to consist in carrying a

minimum of baggage, both material and spiritual. For this
reason the Buddha’s pronouncements can appear terse and
austere, and imply a separation from society and a consequent
introversion. However, if we apply the precepts in the way the
Buddha intended, their function becomes clear. Here is the way
one British Buddhist understands them:

It’s not a rule or a commandment. It’s a promise I make

to myself. One thing I do each morning when I get up is
to recite the simple Five Precepts: each morning I say
them to myself - a bit loudly, but to myself: I take the
view that I will not do such a thing. And then if I broke
the promise I made in the morning, I’d feel a bit guilty,
that I couldn’t keep that promise today. But if I kept it,
I’m quite happy that I did it. And then at night, just
before I go to sleep, I repeat a stanza, which means that I
have done such a thing, and I thank the Buddha for this
doctrine, which I have learnt, and I have kept that side of
it today.
(John Bowker, Worlds of Faith, BBC, 1983, p 133)

The Ten Precepts (Dasa Sila) and the

Eight Precepts {Attanga Sila)
The Buddha laid down the Ten Precepts for samaneras (those in
training for the monastic life) and pious lay people unattached
to families. They are the basis of the monastic code followed by
hhikkhus (monks). The following are added to the basic Five
Precepts:

6 I undertake to observe the precept to abstain from

taking untimely meals.

7 I undertake to abstain from dancing, music, singing

and watching grotesque mime.
 8 I undertake to abstain from the use of garlands,
8
perfumes and personal adornment.
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a (The Eight Precepts put numbers seven and eight together and
omit the tenth.)
Lay Buddhists may undertake the Eight Precepts on festival
days, but the Ten Precepts effectively determine the separation
of monks from the rest of society as those who have taken up
the mendicant life (relying on others for their physical and
material needs), and become renunciants. The ideal behind the
practice of the Ten Precepts is to be freed from all sensual
entanglements. Thus the prohibitions involved prevent
indulgence in food, entertainment, adornment, the seeking of
status, personal importance and luxury, and the accumulation
of wealth.

The significance of the precepts

It is worth investigating the significance of the precepts a little
further. For example, taking the first precept, to abstain from
harming any living being: this, at its most obvious level, would
involve not killing another human being. In a more subtle way,
it could involve making the effort to support, rather than ignore,
the distress or suffering of another. Deciding not to do
something for another’s benefit is to harm him or her as much
as deciding to do something that will obviously injure or kill.
This is a precept that we can immediately relate to humans;
however, our awareness may not so readily extend to other
creatures. It may more easily extend to animals we are fond of,
or find useful, than to those we do not value, or who threaten
us and our well-being. The Buddha did not intend to instigate a
long and ultimately unprofitable debate on this subject by
advancing this precept as a guiding principle. For Buddhists, it
is a matter of keeping the precept in mind when carrying out
their day-to-day activities, whether they be cooking, driving,
teaching or making important political decisions.
Thinking about the second precept, that of abstaining from
things not given, we may interpret this as not stealing - in which
case, to take another’s property and not return it would be an
obvious example; but to take something without permission
would be another. To address the precept on a more subtle level
might involve not invading someone’s privacy, or their time to
think or be alone. For thoughts, reflections and feelings are as
much what one owns as material possessions.
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When we start to consider the precepts as a whole, further o. a
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considerations apply. Heedless actions suggest a lack of
awareness of the influence of our own actions or presence upon
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others; when we relate this principle to a Buddhist virtue such 3
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as generosity, we become aware of the pervasiveness of this
basic code. Whilst not infringing upon another’s private life, it
is important to be alert to ways in which our presence may be
of value to them; this involves the dedication of time and effort,
to the extent of relegating one’s own concerns accordingly.

One British Buddhist puts it in this way:

It’s quite possible to be British and Buddhist - though it’s
not easy, as Buddhist values are diametrically opposed to
the ‘me’ and ‘must get more’ values apparently prevalent
in today’s society.

However, with awareness and care it is possible for

Buddhist practice to flourish. For most of us mundane
actions form the greater part of life - getting up in the
morning, washing, dressing, going to work. These are the
repeated experiences of my life and therefore offer a great
opportunity for practice. Do I get up each morning bad-
tempered? Do the soap I use, or the clothes I wear, exploit
or abuse other living beings? Can the pollution created by
my travelling to work be diminished? Constant
awareness of how we use our bodies, speech and minds is
Buddhist practice.

This practice develops compassion towards oneself and

others. It brings joy as one sees its effects, and leads to
peace as one minimises greed, hate and delusion.
(quoted in C. Erricker, Buddhism, E G Religions Source
Book, The Guardian, 1993, p 19)

In order to emphasize their value, a positive formulation of the

precepts is sometimes used, which is recited as follows:
With deeds of loving kindness, I purify my body.
With open-handed generosity, I purify my body.
With stillness, simplicity and contentment, I purify my
body.
With truthful communication, I purify my speech.
With mindfulness, clear and radiant, I purify my mind.
(The FWBO Puja Book, Windhorse Publications,
1984, p 18)
10 Mindfulness
oo oo Understanding the Buddhist view in the way described above
c c
aa leads us to consider how to achieve this refinement of attitude
a a
(or equanimity, to use a Buddhist term), whilst involved in the
55' S’
3 ST activity of our daily lives.
a
3
a There is a story about a group of learned Buddhist monks
who spent all their time in scholastic debate. As part of
their banter they would often wonder, half-joking, half-
seriously, which one of them would get enlightened first.
Whenever this topic came up, the only thing they could
all agree on was that it would not be Stupid, the illiterate
monk who was capable only of sweeping the monastery
floor and whom nobody has any time for. Of course, it
was Stupid who got enlightened first. The jealous monks
went to the Abbot. How come Stupid had got
enlightened? Had he been overhearing their intellectual
conversations? ‘Not at all,’ replied the Abbot, ‘It’s just
that while he was sweeping the corners of the monastery
he made sure he was also sweeping the corners of his
mind.’
(Adrian Abbotts, in C. Erricker and V. Barnett (eds),
World Religions in Education, The Shap Working Party,
1989, p 11)

Remaining positive in outlook depends on not reacting

negatively to events. However, the watchfulness and discipline
required are obviously difficult to attain. The Buddha’s teaching
stressed as a supreme quality the cultivation of mindfulness; this
involves an ability to watch over our own state of mind at the
same time as observing the emotional fluctuations that occur in
those around us. We cannot give to others without taking
account of, and dealing with, the volatility present in our own
nature. In simple terms, anger provokes anger, meanness
provokes meanness, heedlessness provokes heedlessness. A
crucial implication of the Buddha’s teaching is that no one is an
island, but that by practising the dhamma it is possible to
influence the attitudes of those around us and of society at large.
Indeed, the substance of this message goes still further. Not only
human existence, but the destiny of the world, depend upon this
taking place. It involves being in harmony with nature, and
respect for all living things. Returning to the Indian context in
which this teaching was first formulated, it goes beyond the
span of our lives from birth to death, and determines our future
rebirth. Buddhists consider that the capacity to progress to a
11
more elevated spiritual and moral state has a fundamental effect
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on the evolution of the world. Adhering to the dhamma will c c
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make the world a more harmonious place; the opposite will be a a
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true if the dhamma is ignored. Equally, the individual will find 0) a
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the dhamma easier or harder to follow as a consequence. Thus 0)
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the microcosmic and macrocosmic understanding of individual a
action and cosmic evolution are intimately related. The capacity
to be virtuous and to exhibit such qualities as generosity and
loving kindness are steps on the path to becoming truly
compassionate, which is one of the two supreme Buddhist
attributes. The Buddha expressed this in one of his sermons to
his first disciples:
Go forth on your journey, for the profit of the many, out
of compassion for the world, for the welfare, the profit,
the bliss of devas (gods) and mankind.
(Vinaya 1:21, quoted in F.L. Woodward, Some Sayings
of the Buddha, The Buddhist Society, London, 1974)

Western Buddhist in meditation

Wisdom and compassion

Compassion (karuna) must be complemented by wisdom
(prajna). The two are inseparable; they co-exist, and without the
 other neither is possible. The development of wisdom depends
12
upon a more formal practice which, in Western terms, is
W CD
c c understood as meditation. In its earlier Indian context, it was a
a a
a a. form of yoga. Yoga means to yoke or bind oneself, and here the
u % notion of commitment is present once again. Without the
3 w
a discipline of a formal practice that allows understanding of
3
a the way in which one’s own mind works, and development
of the capacity for insight, the cultivation of compassion is
inevitably diminished. One word for meditation that identifies
its instrumental role is bbavana (mental or spiritual
development); bhavana presumes that the latent capacity we
have needs to be cultivated, in order for our full potential to be
achieved. The purpose of this activity has been beautifully
described by an influential twentieth-century meditation teacher
in this way:

Try to be mindful and let things take their natural course.

Then your mind will become still in any surroundings,
like a clear forest pool. All kinds of wonderful, rare
animals will come to drink at the pool, and you will
clearly see the nature of all things. You will see many
strange and wonderful things come and go, but you will
be still. This is the happiness of the Buddha.
(Ajahn Chah, A Still Forest Pool, Kornfield and Breitner
(eds), Quest Books, 1975)

This passage outlines succinctly the purpose of Buddhist

meditation. Be calm (samatha) and you will become mindful. In
this observant and detached state you will recognize what is
actually happening and gain insight (vipasanna) into the way
things truly are. From this arises a peace or happiness that
allows a positive and virtuous response to others, regardless of
the way in which you are treated. The result is attainment of
both wisdom and compassion.

Another example can be found in the teaching of the Buddha,

and his response to a situation that was far from the
environment of academic debate and spiritual retreat. It
emphasizes the Buddhist concern to treat the root of the
problem of human suffering, whilst not admitting that the
events that cause such suffering are immediately avoidable.

Here the Buddha is helping the distressed mother of a dead

child:
The story of Kisagotami
13
Kisagotami was born into a very poor family, and had the 03 03
C C
reputation of being frail and tiring easily. When she was a a
a a
old enough to be married she went to live with her
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husband’s family. Because she had come from a poor 3 (/>
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home, they treated her without much respect until she 3
a
gave birth to a son. Then their attitude was quite
different, and she was treated with both kindness and
honour. Her situation was now a happy one, but this did
not last for long. When her son was old enough to run
about and play he became ill and died. Kisagotami was
desolate. She had not only lost the child she loved, but
also her respected position in her home. In her grief she
picked up the body of her child and wandered from one
house to another, asking for medicine for her son. The
people who met her laughed and sneered. ‘Whoever
heard of medicine for the dead?’ they said.

By now Kisagotami was almost driven out of her mind by

her sorrow. A wise man saw her wandering about and
realized how much she needed help. He had heard some of
the teaching of Gotama Buddha, and thought that he
might be able to help her come to terms with her grief. He
approached Kisagotami gently and told her that the
Buddha was staying nearby and that he might have
medicine for her son. ‘Go and ask him,’ he said.

Kisagotami went to find the Buddha and stood on the edge

of the crowd, listening to him. When she had the chance,
she called out to him, ‘O, Exalted One, give me medicine for
my son.’
Part of the Buddha’s greatness lay in his skill in knowing
how to help other people. He told her kindly to go to the
city nearby and visit every house. ‘Bring me some grains
of mustard seed from every household in which no-one
has ever died.’

Kisagotami was delighted. Here was someone who took

her seriously. She went to the city, knocked on the first
house and asked for some grains of mustard seed from
the householder, if no one had ever died there. The
householder told her with great sadness that he had
recently lost his wife. Kisagotami listened to his story
with growing sympathy, understanding his grief from her
own. She eventually moved on, but found that in every
 house there was a story of sickness, old age and death.
14
Her own grief seemed different now that she shared that
cd m
c c of others, and she realized that the Buddha had known
aa
aa when he sent her out that she would find that her
CO predicament was the common experience of human
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beings. Death is the law common to all that lives. She
as
3
a now took the body of her dear little son to the cremation
ground and let it be cremated, fully realising that all is
impermanent.
Kisagotami then returned to Gotama Buddha. He asked
her whether she had brought him the grains of mustard
seed. She told him what had happened, and what she had
realized. She then asked him to accept her as his follower
and to teach her more about the nature of reality and the
path to understanding.
(taken from Peggy Morgan, Buddhist Stories,
private publication from the author at Westminster
College, Oxford 0X2 9AT, p 22)

Though wisdom and compassion are the quintessential

aspirations of all Buddhists, they are equally aware that they are
not immediately attainable, and may take many lifetimes to
achieve; in fact they represent Buddhahood itself. Therefore it is
important to focus on the task in hand, rather than continually
to attempt to peer over the horizon. The Dalai Lama, a revered
figure in the Buddhist world who attracts the devotion and
respect of Tibetan and Western Buddhists alike, is very adept at
expressing Buddhist concerns in a much more down-to-earth
way:

Simplicity is important for happiness. Having few desires,

feeling satisfied with what you have is vital. Many are
making a great effort to control external things - like
arms control. But without being able to control inner
things, how can you control external arms? Real arms
control is to control anger.

Now I am talking as a human being, not as a Buddhist.

This I think is most important, because ideology and
religion are for human beings, not the other way round.
They are secondary. Emphasis should be on humanity.

My religion is very simple - my religion is kindness.

There is so much effort spent on external matters, like

space travel. But there is still quite a big area of inner
space left to explore. And it’s not so expensive!
 People think patience is weakness. But I think not. Anger
15
comes from fear, and fear from weakness. So, if you have 00 00
strength then you have more courage. This is where c c
aa
patience comes from. aa
W <o
Deep down we must have real affection for each other, a 3 ST
CD
clear recognition of our shared humanity. At the same a
3

time, we must accept all ideologies and systems as a

means of solving humanity’s problems.
(The Dalai Lama, Kindness: Clarity and Insight, quoted
in Resurgence, Issue 123, July/August 1987, p 23)

Skilfulness
We have noted that following the precepts, and developing
insight through meditation, are two basic and interconnected
practices of the Buddhist life, and that through these Buddhists
seek to become wiser and more compassionate. There is a third
element that plays a necessary part in this development.
Skilfulness, or skill in means, (upaya) was a supreme quality of
the Buddha. As a teacher he was not giving information which,
once received, could immediately be understood. In fact, one of
the most crucial moments in the Buddha’s life came when, after
achieving enlightenment (bhodi) or awakening, he was daunted
by the prospect of trying to convey what he now knew to
anyone. He perceived that humans were too caught up in
worldly attachments to hear and understand that happiness lay
beyond worldly concerns, and that suffering was a result of
living in ignorance of this knowledge. His resolve changed, and
his teaching career began only when, in the mythological but
highly poetic way in which this event is conveyed in the
Buddhist scriptures, the god Brahma came to the Buddha and
exhorted him, out of compassion for the world, to share his
wisdom because, ‘There are beings with a little dust in their eyes
who, not hearing the Dharma, are decaying.’
For Buddhists, this event, along with the Buddha’s first sermon
in the Deer Park at Sarnath near Benares, is of seminal
importance. This is the point at which the Buddhist tradition
began, with the Buddha’s resolve to teach the dhamma, and it
illustrates why Buddhists often refer to themselves as ‘followers
of the dhamma’ rather than as Buddhists or followers of the
Buddha.
Only because the Buddha taught it did the dhamma appear in
the world, and only because of the Buddha’s supreme skilfulness
in the way he taught - by word and deed - was it possible for
 others to understand and follow the dhamma themselves. This
16
skilfulness is therefore also a quality to which Buddhists aspire,
00 00
c c and which they value highly. Without it the dhamma would not
a a
a a be passed on.
ar 3-
w 3>'
3 ff We have already read one example of the Buddha’s skilfulness in
Q) addressing the plight of Kisagotami. Another example of
3
Q. skilfulness is revealed in this Zen story, called The Muddy Road:
Two monks were walking down a muddy road, and came
across a young woman trying to cross it but unable to
avoid a large pool of water. The first monk was inclined
just to walk on. The second promptly helped the woman
by lifting her up and carrying her across. Following this
incident the two monks walked on, but there was obvious
tension between them. After a while the first monk,
unable to contain his anger any longer, remonstrated with
the second, saying, ‘You know it is against our vows to
touch a woman, why did you lift her up and carry her?’
The second monk replied ‘I may have carried her back
there but you are still carrying her and you haven’t yet let
her go.’
(P. Reps, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, Penguin, 1972, p 28)
This ability to let go is an example of skilfulness. The first monk
still harboured his latent desire in his mind. The second was
aware that eradicating such a desire was more important than
just following the monks’ rule of not touching women. The first
monk had forgotten what the rule was there for. The story
illustrates that skilfulness (or lack of it) relates to the motivation
behind the act, whether or not it does harm to oneself or the
world. The skilfulness required to let go of desire is described in
a very practical fashion by this teacher:

To be aware, we have to use skilful means ... The

obsession of ‘letting go’ is a skilful one - as you repeat
this over and over, whenever a thought arises, you are
aware of its arising. You keep letting go of whatever
moves - but if it doesn’t go, don’t try to force it. This
‘letting go’ practice is a way of clearing the mind of its
obsessions and negativity; use it gently, but with
resolution. Meditation is a skilful means of letting go, of
deliberately emptying out the mind so we can see the
purity of the mind - cleaning it out so we can put the
right things in it.
 You respect your mind, so you are more careful what you
17
put in it. If you have a nice house, you don’t go out and
00 00
pick up all the filth from the street and bring it in; you c c
aa
bring in things that will enhance it and make it a a a
refreshing and delightful place. (0 (0
3 sr
0)
(Ajahn Sumedo, Cittaviveka: Teachings from the 3
a
Silent Mind, Amaravati Publications, 1992, p 31)
This pinpoints what really matters to Buddhists: the purity of
the mind uncluttered by greed and self-concern, which leads to
compassionate activity in the world.

Awakening
The Buddha’s great achievement was to attain enlightenment or
nirvana (nibbana). He is said to have attained nirvana under a
pipal tree in Bodh-Gaya, in north-east India. In Buddhist
tradition, this tree is now named after his achievement and
called a Bodhi (enlightenment) tree. This event provides the
inspiration for all Buddhists. The term ‘awakening’ perhaps
explains the significance of this event in a more accessible way.
It is an awakening to the way things truly are, and an
extinguishing of the ignorance that fetters us to continual
rebirth in the realm of samsara, which we can translate as
motivation by desire, ignorance and aversion. Nirvana literally
means ‘to extinguish’.

Nirvana is not a place, in geographical terms, other than where

we are. It is not a heaven, in the other-worldly sense of the term.
But it is a recognition that our potential is not fulfilled by our
day-to-day concern for advancement or survival, nor is it denied
by our ultimate fear of extinction or death. The Buddha’s
teaching is, as one Zen saying puts it, like a finger pointing at
the moon. To mistake the teaching for the truth is to
misunderstand the nature of the journey. The teaching is a
vehicle, and the Buddha told a parable to this effect:
‘Using the figure of a raft, brethren, will I teach you the
Dhamma as something to leave behind, not to take with
you. Do you listen to it. Apply your minds. I will speak.

‘Just as a man, brethren, who has started on a long

journey sees before him a great stretch of water, on this side
full of doubts and fears, on the further side safe and free
from fears ... Then he thinks thus: ... “How now if I were
to gather together grass, sticks and branches, and leaves,
 bind them into a raft, and resting on that raft paddle with
18
hands and feet and so come safe to the further shore?”
uj w
c c
a a ‘Then brethren, that man gathers together sticks ... and
a a
3- 3“ comes to the further shore. When he has crossed over and
55" 55'
3 sr come to the other side he thinks thus: “This raft has been
CD
3 of great use to me. Resting on this raft and paddling with
a
hand and foot I have come to the further shore. Suppose
now I were to set this raft on my head or lift it on to my
shoulders and go my ways?”

‘Now what think ye, brethren? Would that man in so

doing have finished with that raft?’

‘Surely not, Lord.’

‘Doing what then, brethren, would that man have

finished with that raft? Herein, brethren, that man who
has crossed and gone to the further shore should think
thus: “This raft has been of great use to me. Resting on it
I have crossed to the further shore. Suppose now I haul it
up on the shore or sink it in the water and go my ways!”
By so doing, brethren, that man would have finished with
that raft.’

‘Figuratively, then, Nirvana is that ‘further shore’ of full

realization.

‘Even so, brethren, using the figure of a raft have I shown

you the Dhamma, as something to leave behind, not to take
with you. Thus, brethren, understanding the figure of the
raft, ye must leave behind righteous ways, not to speak of
unrighteous ways.’
(Majjbima Nikaya, Vol. I, 134, quoted in
F.L. Woodward, Some Sayings of the Buddha,
The Buddhist Society, London, 1974)
the Buddha
the life of

In this chapter you will learn:

• about the Buddha’s life and
his enlightenment, which is
related to the world of his
time
• about the monastic
community he founded and
the rules by which they live.
The Buddha’s significance
The word ‘Buddha’ is a title given by his followers to the teacher
Siddhartha Gautama (Siddhatta Gotama), who lived in India
2,500 years ago. We might well ask what relevance such a figure
and his life can have for us today. Our pursuit of progress in the
modern world suggests that we constantly gain more knowledge
as time goes by. Yet we only have to reflect on the weight of
human suffering that remains and re-emerges throughout human
history (and was just as prevalent, if not more so, in the twentieth
century) to realize there are certain problems that our
accumulated knowledge simply cannot address. More
sophisticated technology and scientific advances do not get to the
root of the problem of human conflict and suffering. More
efficient communication in a technological sense is not to be
equated with better communication between human beings.
Ultimately, some problems just will not go away, however hard
we address them. Such problems can be understood as matters of
the heart as well as of the mind. We cannot solve them with logic
alone, by creating a more comfortable material life for ourselves,
or even by furthering our medical knowledge and skill. When we
understand that scientific and technological achievement is not a
panacea for all ills, we can comprehend the persistence of ancient
wisdoms in the context of searching for answers to apparently
insoluble human dilemmas; we also see what it is about the
Buddha that makes him as fascinating a figure in today’s world as
he was in the far-off Indian culture within which he lived. Here
are two personal reflections that give us some clues to his
importance:
Among the ruins of Anuradhapura, the ancient capital of
Sri Lanka, there rests alone on a pedestal above the grass
a seated image of the Buddha in stone, slightly larger than
life. The statue is conventional, probably more than a
thousand years old, of a type found throughout Buddhist
Asia. The legs are folded in meditation, the hands laid one
upon the other in the lap. Buddhists hold that it was in
this posture, seated beneath a tree more than 2500 years
ago, that the Buddha was awakened, attaining decisive
knowledge of the human condition and the unshakeable
certainty that he was released from its suffering.
In its excellence, however, the Anuradhapura image is far
from conventional. The back and head are disciplined and
upright; but the arms are relaxed and the face reposes in
tranquillity. The figure seems intelligent and serene, wed
 perfectly to the unmoving granite. Standing before it an
elderly English socialist told me that in the whole mess of
human history this at least - the statue and all it stands for
- was something of which we could be proud. He said that
he had no use for religion, but that he felt he had
unknowingly been a follower of the Buddha all along.
(M. Carrithers, The Buddha, Oxford
University Press, 1983, p 1)

Additionally, Carrithers quotes the anthropologist Claude Levi-

Strauss as saying:

What have I learnt from the masters I have listened to, the
philosophers I have read, the societies I have investigated,
and that very science in which the West takes such pride?
Simply a fragmentary lesson or two which, if laid end to
end, would add up to the meditations of the Sage at the
foot of his tree.
(Claude Levi-Strauss in ibid., pp 1-2)

Buddhists, of course, are much more precise about his relevance

and the way in which his life unfolded. This is illustrated, as
follows, according to Buddhist tradition.

The Four Sights

Siddhartha was born into comparative privilege, the son of a
chief (king or raja) of the Sakya people of north-eastern India (in
present-day Nepal). His early life equipped him for government
and the inheritance of his father’s position. However, his
education and social standing also allowed him a degree of
choice as to his future; and, so the narrative tells, his father was
well aware of this possibility. The traditional story describes how
Queen Mahamaya, the wife of King Suddhodama and
Siddhartha’s mother, was troubled by a dream which was
interpreted to mean that she was to have a son who would one
day become either a king or a sadhu (a holy man who has
renounced worldly things). When Siddhartha was born, and
throughout his childhood and adolescence, the king was anxious
that he should choose the former vocation, and so organized his
life to ensure, as far as possible, that this would occur. He was
surrounded by beautiful things and kept within the palace
grounds. He was married to the beautiful Princess Yasodhara,
who then gave birth to their son. The combination of a pleasant,
fulfilling life, with the responsibility of a family, was thought to
prepare the young prince for his inheritance - socially and
psychologically - and his education also reflected this. The king’s
hope was shattered by what, in Buddhist tradition, is called the
Four Sights. Siddhartha grew restless of his palace life, and
sought to know of the world outside. He directed his charioteer
to take him out into the world beyond the confines of the palace,
and encountered experiences that had an abiding effect and
shaped his future life. The first time he ventured beyond the
palace precincts he saw an old man, and questioned his
companion as to why he was so bent and frail. Siddhartha was
struck by the answer he was given: that this was the eventual lot
of all human beings, including himself. It was a natural and
unavoidable event. His response was, ‘What is the use of this
youth, vitality and strength, if it all ends in this?’
The second sight, on his next excursion beyond the palace, was
of a sick person. Again, he was struck by the fact that disease and
malady afflict even the strongest and healthiest of individuals
and, more importantly, that there is no way of anyone preventing
it.
The third sight was of a corpse being carried to the cremation
ground on a stretcher. This was, and still is, a common sight in
India, where the dead are not hidden from the public eye by
coffins or hearses, and where the burning of the dead is open to
public view, most conspicuously on the ghats beside rivers, for
example at Varanasi beside the Ganges. Again, what the
charioteer understood to be an everyday event and a typical
aspect of life stunned Siddhartha. What struck him most forcibly
was the lack of control and direction people ultimately have over
their own life and destiny. You don’t want to grow old but you
can’t help it. You don’t want to fall sick but you can’t ensure
against it. Death is unavoidable and yet it makes a nonsense of
living. Where is the meaning and purpose in all this? The
agonized questioning of Siddhartha is contrasted, in the story,
with the unquestioning acceptance of this state of affairs
betrayed by Khanna, his charioteer. Siddhartha awoke to the true
nature of being in this world, to the state of samsara,
characterized by old age, sickness, death and continual
becoming. It was pointless nonsense to live with the acceptance
that there is nothing humans can do to alter this state of affairs,
whatever other knowledge and sophistication they may achieve.
For him, perhaps the most striking discovery of these ventures
into the outside world was that humans accept this as their lot,
as natural.
Siddhartha’s reaction to the first three sights exemplifies the
23
Buddhist starting point: seeing to the heart of the matter. What
happens after that, in terms of the decisions one makes and the
life one leads, is rooted in the understanding that this is the
fundamental problem that must be addressed. Similarly,
therefore, we can appreciate that to see that life is characterized
by suffering, but not to act upon that awareness, is a wholly ‘un-
Buddhist* attitude. Such pessimism, or fatalism, is completely
contrary to Buddhist understanding. Once the problem has been
identified, one is immediately committed to doing something
about it. The retrospective telling of the Buddha’s journey to
enlightenment reveals that, behind the serene smile and
composed form of later Buddha images, lies a story of inner N)
struggle revealed in the narratives of the Buddha’s life. The story
of the Four Sights indicates the resolve of a restless heart to
pursue resolutely an uncompromised goal. What is told as four
brief excursions into a matter-of-fact and everyday world
highlights the significance, for Buddhists, of waking up to the
reality that the world we take as given and ordinary is really a
fantastic state of affairs. It is only by dwelling on this, and by
resolving to transform our own understanding of what it means
to take full advantage of a human life, that we can fulfill our
human potential.
For Siddhartha, the fourth sight was the inspiration to this end.
This fourth sight was of a sadhu, or holy man, walking the
streets with his alms bowl. This is a relatively common sight in
Indian life. It was, and is, the alternative way of life to that of the
householder, the one who has fulfilled his duty of bringing up a
family and following a traditional occupation. Such a person was
understood as a mendicant, one who has given up wealth and
material gain by virtue of relying on others for his basic
sustenance, shelter and livelihood. In contrast to the householder,
the sadhu is a ‘wandering one’ (anagarika) who has
acknowledged that this ordinary world of change and suffering
(called the realm of samsara) is one in which no home, in the
spiritual sense, can be found. To put it bluntly, the riddle of
existence and human destiny cannot be resolved simply by
pursuing one’s social duties.
This was the dilemma that confronted Siddhartha. To pursue the
life of the sadhu, everything had to be given up: his expected
future career, his marriage and family, his security in the life of
the palace and his fulfilment of parental expectations. We have
no knowledge of how he came to resolve this dilemma, but he
did; without that Buddhism would not have come into being.
Going forth
The stories tell how, on the night of a full moon, Siddhartha bade
farewell to his sleeping wife and child. He rode to the edge of the
Sakya kingdom, divested himself of his clothes, long hair and
beard, and resolved to go forth as a wandering one. This event is
understood in Buddhist terms as Siddhartha’s ‘going forth’: the
moment of commitment to a renunciant’s life and the beginning of
his search, his new career. It was not an interim rite of passage
between an adolescent life and adulthood responsibilities that
could be shelved for a while. Nor was it the irresponsibly
conceived act of an impetuous young man. It was a resolute
change of direction that established a tradition whose impact
would last for millennia. Should we wish to criticize such an act
we should also have to take into account its positive consequences.
This is why, for Buddhists everywhere, commitment is
fundamental.
However, this is not to say that it necessarily entails the same
social consequences as it did for Siddhartha. In the history of
Buddhist tradition it is true that joining the sangha has often
entailed leaving behind family life for a monastic one. For this
reason, monks and monastic life have always been at the centre
of traditional Buddhist societies. Taking up the monastic life is
seen as imitating the commitment of Siddhartha in his going
forth to a mendicant’s existence. Becoming a monk is to become
a mendicant. However, Buddhism has also always taken into
account the need to adapt its form to different cultural and social
circumstances. It has been able to do this because the idea of
commitment is not fundamentally a matter of changing one’s
status in society, but of adapting one’s outlook and goals.
Buddhist understanding of the distinction between the outer
form and inner resolution has been highlighted (especially in the
West today), such that there are Buddhist groups which
understand renunciation and commitment to the Buddhist
tradition to be a way of living within conventional society with
different codes and aspirations, rather than an opting out of the
given social order. This amounts in part to an understanding of
the difference between the Indian society of the Buddha’s day and
our own. Monasticism was an obvious route for the
development of the Buddhist ideal of community, given the
options open to spiritual searchers in the Buddha’s time. Today it
represents something different. The question of adaptation
versus the appropriate vehicle for the life lived in pursuit of the
truth (dharma) has always been a live issue, but no more so than
now. What has always been important is the Buddhist notion of
a spiritual community, and this is what the term sangha denotes.
However, this takes us beyond the point which Siddartha had
reached in his own journey. After leaving home, he was
confronted with the alternatives available to him in Indian
society. Foremost among these were the ascetic practices of yogis
who, through austerity and denial of physical nourishment,
sought to realize their spiritual aspirations. Subjugation of the
flesh was for them a necessary prerequisite to spiritual
advancement. (This is not just a matter of historical interest
since, in India at least, it is still practised.) Unlike in the West,
where the notion of austerity belongs more to the past, as
redundant as the monastic life, in India the large number of
sadhus who devote themselves to this cause can be witnessed
readily at dawn on the banks of the Ganges, and at the great
pilgrimage festivals, such as Kumbh Mela in Allahabad, which
they attend.

Self-mortification
Siddhartha pursued the path of self-mortification for six years,
limiting his food and sleep, not washing and living naked, or in
the sky-clad state, as it was known. He gained a reputation
amongst fellow ascetics, gathering disciples and companions. His
fame, it is said, spread like the sound of a great gong in the
canopy of the sky. Though he achieved states of higher
consciousness and greater awareness, he finally gave up these
practices because he came to the conclusion that they did not
lead to the realization of the truth (the cessation of suffering). He
started eating again, and his followers and companions deserted
him. He continued to travel alone, seeking out other teachers,
but finally became disillusioned by all their practices. He
eventually reached a spot where he resolved to remain until he
achieved enlightenment. This is now a well-known moment,
both in Buddhist tradition and in world history. Beneath the
shade of a great pipal tree, later named after this event as a Bodhi
(enlightenment) tree, beside a river, he resolved, ‘I will not rise
from this spot until I am enlightened. Flesh may wither away,
blood may dry up, but until I gain enlightenment I shall not move
from this seat.’
the Buddha in meditation

The enlightenment
It is not easy to imagine what occurred in the mind of one sitting
so motionless. It seems ironic that such a great event - the
rediscovery of truth - should outwardly be so uneventful. But it
is indicative of the character of Buddhism that it should be so:
truth is found in silence and stillness rather than activity. He sat
there in a meditative state, gaining greater concentration and
control of his mind. This state of purification was not achieved
instantly, but was the result of all the training he had
undertaken since leaving home. It involved overcoming the
mental hindrances that disrupt and unbalance the mind.
These are graphically described in Buddhist writings as the
attacks of Yama, the Lord of Death, who recognized the
significance of the Buddha’s quest and opposed it with all his
power. We can be sure that this was not a serene and easily
accomplished endeavour, but called on all the Buddha’s resolve
and skill. All doubt, indecision and compromise had to be
exposed, rather like a tortuous inner struggle in which this was
the final battle. We are told that on the night of the full moon
of Wesak (the month of May in the western calendar), the
Buddha fixed his mind on the morning star as it was rising, and
the moment of full enlightenment occurred.
 —

Essentially, Siddhartha became the Buddha at this point when he

27
eradicated all ignorance, and saw things for exactly what they
were with crystal clarity. If we try and imagine what this could
be like, we might think of times when, in trying to understand
apparently complex, insoluble problems, we have hit on an
instant when answers revealed themselves so obviously that it
was as though we had previously missed what was right before
our eyes. Moments when we have said, ‘Of course, how could I
have been so blind!’ This helps us to understand why the event
is referred to as ‘The Great Awakening’, and why the term
‘letting go’ is so often used by Buddhists to indicate the nature
of such wisdom.
The idea of striving for the truth does not really communicate IO
the whole nature of Siddhartha’s achievement. It is as though
the truth has been there all the time, but we have not had the
capacity to realize it. It was this capacity that Siddhartha
developed and finally fulfilled. This was the end of Siddhartha’s
original search but, like all ends, it created a new beginning. As
the Buddha, the fully enlightened one, Siddhartha was not the
same person he had previously understood himself to be. The
wisdom and compassion conferred on him by this event also
registered new responsibilities. He who knows is the only one
who can make the truth known to others.
The practical significance of truth is what constitutes its
ultimate value. It is conquest over death. The individual is freed
from the fetters of this life. No longer is he or she condemned to
constant rebirth and the dis-ease that results from this. From a
Buddhist point of view, this does not mean that we are changed
into other beings, gods or angels; rather, we have realized our
true nature, our complete potential. (Were this not the case, the
Buddha’s achievement would amount to a comfort or solace, a
way of living well within the prison-house of existence - but
nothing more). In this respect, the Buddha becomes a unique
historical figure, because his achievement is to present a
spiritual goal achievable without the aid of a god. This is not to
say that Buddha or Buddhists are necessarily antagonistic
towards theistic belief, but that it is not seen as either skilful or
helpful to look to a god to solve the riddle of human existence.

Turning the wheel of the dharma

The difficulty of disclosing this truth to others was something
that did not immediately resolve itself for the Buddha. As we
have seen, he was initially unsure that it could be comprehended
by anyone, but the Buddha’s teaching career began with his
sermon at Sarnath, where he encountered his former
companions and preached the dharma for the first time. The
distance from Bodh Gaya, the place of his enlightenment, to
Sarnath, is one hundred miles, and we can only speculate on
what went through his mind while he made the journey.
However, when he met his first audience, they were struck by his
overall disposition, which radiated those virtues held in high
esteem by Buddhists. The confidence and equanimity with
which he encountered them were a prelude to the acceptance of
his teaching, and drew to him the community that was to grow
up around him.

It was not just what the Buddha had to say, but the confidence
he inspired in those whom he addressed, that won over his
audience. At first, his five former companions greeted him with
scepticism, for he was that same Gotama who had given up the
path of ascetic practice. However, struck by his authority, they
received him back into their company and subsequently became
his followers. One writer relates the event as follows:

Upon this the Buddha told them of his experience and

claimed recognition of his enlightenment. The monks
were once more sceptical. They failed to use the new and
higher title of Tathagatha (one who has gone beyond),
which implies the status of Buddhahood, and which the
narrative makes the Buddha claim for himself. After all,
they argued, Gotama had not arrived at this exalted
knowledge when he had practised austerities, so why
should they believe that he had done so when he reverted
to ordinary ways of living? The Buddha retorted that a
Tathagatha was not one who had reverted to a life of
abundance, giving up the quest for self-mastery. And he
repeated his claim to have reached perfect enlightenment
and to have found ‘the deathless’. The other monks should
hear his teaching, and they too would arrive at the goal
which they sought when they first left home. Still the
monks demurred, and as the narrative gives human truth
in story form, the argument is repeated three times. Finally
the Buddha makes them admit that he had never talked in
such a way before, and that he therefore really did have
something to say. So they decided to hear him out.
Although by this time he had already trodden quite a few
miles and spoken not a few thoughts, we now come to
 what is usually known as the Buddha’s first teaching, or
more picturesquely, the first rolling of the wheel of the
Dhamma.
(M. Pye, The Buddha, Duckworth, 1979, p 41)

Such stories as these also remind us that the Buddha’s teaching

career was not just a matter of preaching to a willing audience,
but that the complex quality of skilfulness (up ay a) was an
essential ingredient for winning over committed individuals
(often of great integrity), to an acknowledgement of his claims,
which are presented in the formulation of his teachings. There is
no doubt that the Buddha was a charismatic figure, but his
charisma was understood as radiating not from cleverness or
intellectual status (which would have attracted only those with
an inclination towards such attributes), but from a deep
knowledge that went beyond aspectc of his personality.

The mission
The Buddha practised the life of an itinerant preacher, roaming
across north-eastern India for the remainder of his life, from his
enlightenment at the age of thirty-five. Following climatic
conditions, the pattern he established was to wander from place
to place for nine months of the year, and take shelter during the
three-month monsoon period; these three months became
established as a time of retreat and remain so for some monastic
Buddhist communities today.

Taking one meal a day, whenever he came to a village, he

established the practice of standing at the villagers’ doors silently
with his alms bowl; once he had collected sufficient food, he
would retire to a mango grove on the outskirts of a village to eat.
After his meal, villagers would gather round to hear him teach.
In this way his following increased, drawn from different strata
in the caste-orientated Indian society. From these occasions are
drawn various conversations which have entered into the
Buddhist scriptures. The story of Kisagotami is one such, but
there are others, which reflect the character of the Buddha’s
teaching, the people whom he met, and their response to him.
Some of these accounts may well have been elevated to
mythology, but they provide us with some valuable information.
One of the first of the Buddha’s village meetings is related in this
story:
 Dona and the Buddha
Journeying along the high road, the Buddha met a man
called Dona. Dona was a brahmin, and skilled in the
science of bodily signs. Seeing on the Buddha’s footprints
the mark of a thousand-spoked wheel, he followed in his
track along the road until he eventually caught up with the
Buddha, who was sitting beneath a tree. As the Buddha
was fresh from his Enlightenment, there was a radiance
about his whole being. We are told it was as though a light
shone from his face - he was happy, serene, joyful. Dona
was very impressed by his appearance, and he seems to
have felt that this wasn’t an ordinary human being,
perhaps not a human being at all. Drawing nearer, he
came straight to the point, as the custom is in India where
religious matters are concerned. He said, ‘Who are you?’
Now the ancient Indians believed that the universe is
stratified into various levels of existence, that there are not
just human beings and animals, as we believe, but gods,
and ghosts, and yaksas, and gandharvas, and all sorts of
other mythological beings, inhabiting a multi-storey
universe, the human plane being just one storey out of
many. So Dona asked ‘Are you a yaksa?’ (a yaksa being a
rather terrifying sublime spirit living in the forest). But the
Buddha said ‘No’. Just ‘No’. So Dona tries again. ‘Are you
a gandharva?’ (a sort of celestial musician, a beautiful
singing angel-like figure). Once again the Buddha said
‘No’, and again Dona asked ‘Well, then, are you a deva?’
(a god, a divine being, a sort of archangel). ‘No’. Upon
this Dona thought, ‘That’s strange, he must be a human
being after all!’ And he asked him that too, but yet again
the Buddha said ‘No’. By this time Dona was thoroughly
perplexed, so he demanded ‘If you are not any of these
things, then who are you?’ The Buddha replied, ‘Those
mental conditionings on account of which I might have
been described as a yaksa or a gandharva, as a deva or a
human being, all those conditionings have been destroyed
by me. Therefore I am a Buddha.’
(Ven. Sangharakshita, A Guide to the Buddhist Path,
Windhorse Publications, 1990, pp 36-37)

What is evident from this story is that the Buddha’s knowledge

and experience challenged the world view of his own culture,
and of succeeding cultures up to the present day. It was not that
he offered an understanding of the world and our experience
within it, for that complemented what we already know. Rather
he turned our understanding upside down, such that it had to be
fundamentally changed to accommodate his teaching. As with
all the great religious teachers, a new way of looking at the
world and reflecting on the human condition was being offered.
If this hadn’t been the case, the Buddhist tradition would never
have developed in its own unique and independent way.
The story also suggests that it is not enough to know about the
Buddha and his teachings because his claims, as with all great
religious teachers, confront our own self-awareness. What is
being questioned is not whether we need to know more, but
whether our understanding is fundamentally ignorant -
without real knowledge. This amounts to a confrontation of
view, without which the Buddha would not have gained so
many followers, nor established a lasting tradition. It is a
matter of commitment that involves the whole person, rather
than simply adding to individual personal philosophy. For this
reason it is not appropriate to regard the Buddha simply as an
ancient philosopher, in the manner of Plato or Aristotle. One
could investigate the Buddha’s teaching as a philosophy, but
that would not amount to knowledge in the Buddhist sense
because it does not confer what Buddhists call ‘right view’.
Only by applying his teachings in practice does realization arise;
then the truth is confirmed and self-transformation occurs.
The Buddha was by no means uniformly successful in his
encounters. Another early meeting was with the wandering
ascetic Upaka, described as an ajiveka (who are sometimes
known as naked ascetics, renowned for their austerity):

Upaka and the Buddha

Upaka met the Buddha on the road near Bodh Gaya and
noticed that he seemed particularly clear of complexion.
He greeted him respectfully and asked him, in the way
such travellers did, who his teacher was or what his
Dhamma was. The Buddha replied in words of
incomparable self-assurance that he was victorious,
omniscient, teacher-less and unequalled among gods and
men. He alone was completely enlightened. He had
attained nirvana. Upaka replied, perhaps ironically, that
he certainly sounded as if he had conquered ‘the
unending’; with which the Buddha did not hesitate to
agree. Upaka was unconvinced. ‘That may be so’, he said,
and off he went down another road, shaking his head.
(Michael Pye, The Buddha, Duckworth, 1979, p 40)
statue of the Buddha (at the Buddhist temple in Sarnath)
This helps us to understand that in the world of his time there
were others who belonged to already established spiritual
traditions sharing the same aspirations as the Buddha had done.
It was by no means easy to convince such determined searchers
that he had already achieved what they were still looking for.
Indeed it is apparent that today also such scepticism acts as an
important antidote to naive commitment or ‘blind faith’. It was
an important aspect of the Buddha’s teachings that you had to
commit yourself to the practice, as was mentioned in Chapter 1.
It was this recognition in fact that determined the way in which
the Buddha formulated his discourses; on the basis that unless
they addressed the fundamental message he had to convey - the
overcoming of suffering - and unless their truth was discernible
through application, they were of no recognizable value.

The growth of the sangha

Starting with the five former companions, the Buddha’s
followers grew into an Order of Monks (the Bhikkhu Sangha)
which drew in lay people to the mendicant life. As the
missionary preaching of the order spread, so lay people ‘went
for refuge’ to the Buddha, without renouncing their status as
householders, and the lay community developed. This balance
between monastic and lay life in the Sangha was one of the main
features of the Buddha’s mission during his teaching career,
which spanned forty years. It was the blueprint for harmony
and balance in the social order that transformed the movement,
from its initial character as a mendicant group, into an
influential Indian tradition that, centuries later, was to convert
the Emperor Ashoka, who sought to rule the sub-continent
according to Buddhist principles.
Women had been ordained as members of the Order, though the
Buddha’s attitude had been ambiguous; he accepted them with
some reluctance and warned monks of the need to be vigilant in
their presence. In answer to his disciple Ananda’s question,
asking how monks should behave in the presence of women, he
is recorded as saying, ‘No talking’ and, ‘Keep wide awake.’ This
may be ascribed to his belief that attachment to women was a
major obstacle in the attainment of nirvana; whatever the
reason, such sayings should be put in the context of the whole
code of monastic discipline (vinaya) that the Buddha laid down.
Paranirvana
The Buddha’s death, in his old age, was said to be by food
poisoning, from having inadvertently eaten unwholesome
mushrooms, truffles or pork, which had been offered to him. It
is said that he passed away in a state of meditation, reclining on
his right side, his head supported by his hand. This posture has
been recorded in Buddhist iconography, and is understood as the
Buddha’s passing into paranirvana - nirvana without remainder;
a state in which he was no longer subject to rebirth. This
occurred in the woodlands outside the town of Kusinara. He
appointed no successor and, it seems, he wished the Sangha to
remain a relatively non-hierarchical organization. Among his last
words were these to Ananda, who, aware of the imminent death
of the Buddha, was leaning against the doorframe weeping. The
Buddha called Ananda to him, saying, ‘Do not mourn, do not
weep. Haven’t I told you that we are separated, parted, cut off
from everything dear and beloved? ... You have served me long
with love, helpfully, gladly, sincerely and without reserve, in
body, word and thought. You have done well by yourself,
Ananda. Keep trying and you will soon be liberated.’
eaching
he Buddha’s

In this chapter you will learn:

• the Buddha’s teaching on the
nature of life
• about the Buddha’s teaching
on the ‘self’
• about the Buddha’s teaching
on liberation, or the end of
suffering.
 Thus have I heard. The Blessed One was once living in the
36
Deer Park at Isipatana (the Resort of Seers) near Varanasi
<D
(Benares). There he addressed the group of five bhikkhus.
CD
C This is the beginning of what is referred to as the first discourse
CL
a (darsana) of the Buddha, as it appears in the collected writings
fl)
of of the Buddhist canon, the suttas (sutras). Sutta means thread,
(D and this term is used to express the connected ideas that
CD
O constitute a discourse of the Buddha. In this case we are
3 listening to the way in which the Buddha formulated his basic
(Q
understanding of the human condition, and expounded it to
those who first listened, his original companions, who were to
become his bhikkhus (monks or followers).
This teaching addresses the Four Noble Truths and the Middle
Way - the crux of the Buddha’s teaching pared down to the
single concept of dukkha (suffering or ‘unsatisfactoriness’), why
it is the fundamental aspect of the human condition, and how it
can be overcome. It relates to the Buddha’s own life and
experiences:

Bhikkhus, these two extremes ought not to be practised by

one who has gone forth from the household life. What are
the two? There is devotion to the indulgence of sense-
pleasures, which is low, common, the way of ordinary
people, unworthy and unprofitable; and there is devotion
to self-mortification, which is painful, unworthy and
unprofitable.
(W. Rahula, What the Buddha Taught,
Gordon Fraser, 1982 p 92)

The Buddha knew about indulgence in sensual pleasures from his

life in the palace, and about self-mortification from his early
renunciant experiences; and by reflecting on these he developed
the teaching of the Middle Way, which leads to ‘vision,
knowledge, calm, insight, enlightenment, Nibbana’.

The Middle Way is also the fourth of the Noble Truths that the
Buddha expounded. To understand this we must first look at the
three propositions that lead up to it, which resulted in his
exposition of the Buddhist path, and which, together with the
fourth, the Middle Way, constitute the Four Noble Truths:

1 Dukkha, disease or suffering

2 Samudaya, the arising or origin of dukkha
3 Nirodha, the cessation of dukkha
4 Magga, the way leading to the cessation of dukkha
The first Noble Truth: all is suffering
(dukkha)
It is very difficult to translate the term dukkha accurately. One
word, such as suffering, is insufficient and misleading. It is not
a purely philosophical term, and it would be wrong to treat it in
that way. Suffering is one meaning ascribed to it, but this
suggests a pessimistic view, somehow stressing the bad things
and ignoring the good that happens in the course of human
experience. It is necessary to understand that experience is the
key word here. What the Buddha is pointing to is the weight of
understanding brought about by reflecting on the totality of a
life lived, not simply by weighing its pros and cons. Other words
that help to elucidate its meaning are dis-ease, imperfection and
inadequacy. It is not that life does not have its happy moments
as well as the unhappy ones, but that the sum total of human
experience is inadequate or imperfect. It is not all one might
hope for or expect. Such expectation or hope is not a matter of
false optimism or fantasy, rather it is a recognition that what is
achieved in life is ultimately insubstantial, fleeting and
unfulfilling. The term, sukkba, the opposite of dukkha, denotes
happiness, comfort and ease. The Buddha’s insight is only fully
understood by looking at the first three Noble Truths together
as a complete analysis of the human situation; but it is already
clear from analysing the first Noble Truth that what we wish to
achieve lies beyond our reach; not that the goal we seek at any
moment is inaccessible, but that the achievement of this goal
does not confer the happiness we sought through it. Professional
ambition, fame, material wealth, financial security, physical and
mental health, romance, admiration and friendship are all
understandable goals, but the nature of life is such that we are
not fulfilled in our achievements. Whatever we gain in any of
these spheres is not enough to satisfy us. Dukkha is a deep-
seated internal condition brought about through our
relationship with a world which cannot satisfy that which we
crave.
However, we cannot fulfill ourselves by changing that world,
rather we have to look for a cure for this condition within
ourselves. The fundamental reason for this is that the world - in
the Buddhist sense of the samsaric realm which we experience -
is subject to impermanence. All is impermanent (anicca) and
subject to change. This is the second aspect of dukkha, in the
Buddha’s analysis. It is this fact that causes dukkha. We
constantly seek to create permanence, to hold on to things, but
our aspirations slip through our grasp. This is the important
point about the Buddha’s description of life being dukkha.
Nothing abides: no moment, no feeling, no thought, no person.
(This is self-evidently true, at least in the long term, since
everybody dies.) However, there are little deaths and new
beginnings throughout life - at every moment, in fact. Change is
inevitable and necessary; change is the condition of
impermanence; impermanence prevents the possibility of
anything abiding. This description is neither happy nor sad,
optimistic nor pessimistic; from a Buddhist viewpoint, it is a
true analysis, the analysis of the one who has an enlightened
view and sees clearly. However, if we bring any sense of sadness
or revulsion to this understanding, then this too is
understandable from a Buddhist position, because it points to
the next proposition.

The second Noble Truth: the origin of

suffering {samudaya)
The second Noble Truth recognizes that dukkha goes deeper
still, and has even more radical implications.
We are used to thinking about there being a world I live in and
I, who live in the world. In other words, we distinguish quite
clearly between ourselves as individuals and the world outside
us, which is made up of things, events and people. Whilst this
way of understanding ourselves is conventionally and practically
useful, it proves dangerous when it becomes rooted too deeply.
Objectively speaking, it would seem highly foolish to suggest that
the world - that which is not me - is impermanent, but that 7,
however, am permanent. Nevertheless, we often live and think as
though that were true. It is as if I am standing alone on a station
platform, watching a train go by, and I am aware of the
movement of the train; that the people in it are travelling from
one place to another; that their lives are changing as they travel
along the track between departure and destination; but I am
standing still, watching, unmoving, and fully aware of what is
happening in front of my eyes.
However, on the train, a person looks out of the window, and as
the train passes the station, he sees me standing there alone - in
one moment in his present, then just a past image and memory.
For me, the passenger moves in time and does not abide; for the
passenger I do the same - but the realities perceived are
contradictory. In truth, says the Buddha, neither abides. What
moves is neither the train nor the person, but the greater, all-
embracing, unseen vehicle that passes through train and station
alike: time.
Another way of perceiving this view is to imagine standing and
staring up at the stars in the night sky, and being aware that what
you are seeing is light years away from you and therefore at a
considerable distance in time from you as well as in space (due
to the time it takes for their light to reach you). It seems that you
are the central fixed point in the universe. Yet now imagine
yourself on one of those stars viewing the earth at that same
moment. You would not see yourself: you would not yet be
there.
Just as Copernicus revolutionized our understanding of the
universe, so the Buddha’s teaching completely changes the way
we understand ourselves. We are also a part of the universe’s
ceaseless becomings there is no abiding self, but merely a
constantly changing and impermanent aspect of that becoming.
This Buddhist doctrine of anatta (no self) is the third aspect of
dukkha; together dukkha, anicca and anatta are known as the
three marks, or the fundamental characteristics of being.
This analysis immediately begs the question, ‘If there is no self in
this sense, what do we consist of? What constitutes an
individual?’ The Buddha’s answer was that we are a combination
of ever-changing forces or energies which can be divided into five
groups (aggregates or skandhas), which themselves are dukkha.
They are dukkha because they cause attachment; in fact, they are
the basis of attachment.

The five aggregates

The aggregate of matter
This includes our five material sense organs - eyes, ears, nose,
tongue and ‘body and mind’ objects - thoughts, ideas and
conceptions.

The aggregate of sensations

This includes all sensations: pleasant, unpleasant and neutral.
Sensations are experienced through the contact of physical and
mental organs with the world and include the creation of visual
form, sounds, smells, taste, touch and thoughts or ideas. (Note
that, unlike in the Western view, mind is understood to be a
sixth sense organ or faculty, because its operation is intrinsic to
this activity of contact with, and response to, the world.)
The aggregate of perceptions
Perception involves recognition, and arises from sensation in
relation to matter. Perceptions are produced through the contact
of our six faculties with the external world.

The aggregate of mental formations

By this the Buddha meant volitions, mental acts of will which
include intuition, determination, heedlessness and the idea of
self. They also include what we previously referred to as the
three poisons: desire or craving, ignorance and aversion. The
important thing about mental formations is that they are the
basis of karma, (which we shall return to later), because they are
the basis on which we act. The relationship between mental
formations and actions is so close that they cannot be separated.
As the first two verses of the Dhammapada explain:

What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday,

and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow: our
life is the creation of our mind.
If a man speaks or acts with an impure mind, suffering
follows him as the wheel of the cart follows the beast that
draws the cart.
... If a man speaks or acts with a pure mind, joy follows
him as his own shadow.
(Translation by J. Mascaro, Penguin, 1973, p 35)

The aggregate of consciousness

In this context, consciousness does not contain the idea of
recognition; rather, it denotes awareness in its most rudimentary
form. Consciousness creates awareness of a sense object, so that
visual consciousness arises when the eye comes into contact
with a colour or form. It is perception that then identifies the
colour as blue, or the form as round, for example. The same is
true of the process occurring with each of the other sense
organs.
The significant issue, from a Buddhist point of view, is that the
five aggregates together identify the process of becoming as it
takes place in each individual. When we draw this process
together, into one illustration, its logic is clear in its application
to the everyday working of things: I am hungry and I am
presented with a plate of food. I see it, smell it and anticipate the
taste. I am aware of what is in the dish. Sensations arise and
perceptions follow, with the recognition of what it will be like to
taste it. Volition is brought into play. I wish to eat. I pick up my
knife and fork; all other concerns vanish from my mind as I
indulge in the pleasure of eating. As my stomach becomes full,
my desire decreases. My mind turns to other things. New
sensations, perceptions and mental formulations arise. I am more
interested in my partner’s conversation. I dwell on the discomfort
in my stomach. I wish to do other things. I suggest it is time to
leave. I look forward to what happens next, or I view it with
disappointment - the end of an enjoyable evening and a new
working day. I am enveloped in the never-ending process of
continual arising (or ‘dependent origination’), a chain of cause
and effect that never ceases.
A second tangible, but less pleasant, example can be as mundane
as having toothache:
Normally, one simply says ‘I have a toothache’. But to
Buddhist thinkers this appears as a very inconsistent way
of speaking. Neither ‘I’, nor ‘have’, nor ‘toothache’ is
counted among the ultimate facts of existence (dharmas).
In Buddhist literature, personal expressions are replaced
by impersonal ones. Impersonally, in terms of ultimate
events, this experience is divided up into:
1. There is physical form - that is, the tooth as matter.
2. There is a painful feeling.
3. There is sight, touch, and pain-perception
(ideation) of the tooth; perception can exist only as
ideation.
4. There is, by way of volitional reactions, resentment
of pain and desire for physical well-being, etc.
5. There is consciousness, an awareness of all of the
above. The T of common-sense talk has thus
disappeared; it forms no part of this analysis. It is
not the ultimate reality. Not even its components
are reality. One might reply, of course, that an
imagined T is a part of the actual experience. In
that case, it would be listed under consciousness,
the last of the five above-mentioned categories. But
this consciousness is not ultimate reality. In living
human existence there is a continual succession of
mental and physical phenomena. It is the union of
these phenomena that makes the individual. Every
person, or thing, is therefore a putting together, a
compound of components which change. In each
individual, without any exception, the relationship
between its components is always changing, is
 never the same for two consecutive moments. It
follows that no sooner has individuality begun than
its dissolution, disintegration, also begins.
(H. Dumoulin and J.C. Maraldo (eds), Buddhism in the
Modern World, Collier Macmillan, 1976, pp 9-10)
The Buddha’s teaching emphasizes the fact that life does not have
to be like this, moving constantly between desire and aversion;
changing states of mind and circumstance within which I identify
myself. Desire inevitably leads to aversion, and worldly
happiness can never be more than a passing sensation. The only
way out of this ceaseless circle is to understand that the T who
craves for happiness and contentment is the very obstacle that
prevents it. It is born of the ignorance of attachment. Self is
dukkha, but letting go of self is true happiness.

The analogy of the chariot

The Buddhist monk Nagasena expressed this understanding in
another more concrete and witty way with the analogy of the
chariot. Nagasena is in conversation with King Milinda, who
had continually harassed the local Buddhist monks with his
questions and arguments:

Thereupon the Venerable Nagasena said to King Milinda:

‘As a king you have been brought up in great refinement
and you avoid roughness of any kind. If you would walk
at midday on this hot, burning and sandy ground, then
your feet would have to tread on the rough and gritty
gravel and pebbles, and they would hurt you; your body
would get tired, your mind impaired, and your awareness
of your body would be associated with pain. How then
did you come - on foot, or on a mount?’
‘I did not come, Sir, on foot, but on a chariot.’ - ‘If you
have come on a chariot, then please explain to me what a
chariot is. Is the pole the chariot?’ - ‘No, reverend Sir!’ -
‘Is then the axle the chariot?’ - ‘No, reverend Sir!’ - ‘Is it
then the wheels, or the framework, or the flagstaff, or the
yoke, or the reins, or the goad-stick?’ - ‘No, reverend Sir!’
- ‘Then is it the combination of pole, axle, wheels,
framework, flagstaff, yoke, reins and goad which is the
“chariot”?’ - ‘No, reverend Sir!’ - ‘Then is this “chariot”
outside the combination of pole, axle, wheels, framework,
flagstaff, yoke, reins and goad?’ - ‘No, reverend Sir!’ -
‘Then ask as I may, I can discover no chariot at all. Just a
mere sound is this “chariot”. But what is the real chariot?’
 ‘Where all constituent parts are present,
The word “a chariot” is applied.
So likewise where the skandhas are,
The term “a being” commonly is used.’
(E. Conze (trans), Buddhist Scriptures,
Penguin Classics, 1959, pp 148-9)

It is important to be aware that this teaching was not meant to

suggest that the absence of selfhood meant annihilation, nor to
suggest a consequent lack of meaning or purpose in human life.
Were this the case, it would not matter how one behaved, since
there would be no person to be blamed. Instinctive desires,
whims and wishes could be fulfilled to the full. Hedonism would
be the order of the day, for there would be nothing to lose. On
the contrary, to see things in this fashion and behave in this way
is to bring about the worst of conditions; the way in which this
is experienced is through the law of karma. Karma also ensures
that this sort of analysis of the human situation is not just an
academic exercise, a way of cleverly justifying whatever view one
finds appealing or conducive to one’s own proclivities.

Karmic conditioning
For Westerners, the Indian term karma is most often taken to
refer to a determinist and fatalist view of human life. Equated
with the notion of destiny (but in a pejorative way), it suggests
that what happens to an individual is the outcome of
unchangeable events, and the best one can do is to suffer the
inevitable outcomes in life. This does not accord with the rich
interpretation of karma in Indian thought. Karma was a pivotal
concept in Indian thinking, around which turned the whole
question of why life is as it is. It offered the possibility of
different causal explanations for events. The word karma means
‘action’. As a result, the relationship between what you do and
what happens to you is open to different sorts of explanation.
At one end of the scale, it can act as an explanation of why
misfortune happens when it is not recognizably the result of
particular actions. Common Western explanations of this would
be ‘luck’, ‘fate’ or ‘chance’. In other words, where no obvious
historical causal connection can be found, the cause must lie
elsewhere. In Indian terms, this would relate back to a previous
life and its bad karma, which needs to be worked out in this
one. Notice, however, the crucial distinction between the
Western and Indian notions. It is not that what happens is
inexplicable or random, but that the explanation lies beyond
our everyday cognition or observations. Initial reflection may
lead to a form of fatalism (‘how can I ever know?’), but this is
not necessarily the case.
The reason why karma became a central theme in the Buddha’s
teaching was because he was concerned with liberating
individuals from a state of ignorance and suffering. To see the
Buddha’s teaching as pessimistic and fatalistic, as some do, is to
caricature it in a similar sense as to understand Christianity to be
all about sin rather than salvation.
The importance of karma is that it demonstrates the practicality
of Buddhist teachings. Ethical considerations become
paramount, because liberating oneself from the dis-ease of
samsaric existence is a karmic matter, embedded in our everyday
activities and behaviour.
Let us take the earlier illustration of reacting to one’s desires
whilst eating a meal. In this situation, our happiness is always
transitory and provisional, because we understand the
satisfaction of our desires to be paramount. Such attachment can
never remain fulfilling. However, our ignorance prevents us from
envisaging any other way of pursuing life. For a Buddhist, the
result of this is more calamitous than we might imagine: the
effect is cumulative. By not recognizing the cumulative effect of
our karmic habits, we cannot conceive of their result. Just like a
habit to which we are addicted, so our karmic conditioning
determines our thoughts and deeds. The Buddha saw this state of
being as one of ignorance and craving, over which we exercise no
control. It is strong and blind, and he compared it to thirst
(tanka). When we are thirsty, we cannot help desiring water. It
becomes so necessary that we are overwhelmed by it and cannot
think about anything else. Such is the nature of our craving - and
yet, in ignorance, we are oblivious to its effect upon us.

Rebirth
For Westerners, even the admission of this unsatisfactoriness
would not equal the importance that the Buddha placed on it. If
we only have one life anyway, we might still affirm the
importance of seeking happiness, through the achievement of
our mundane goals. After all (we might argue), that is all there
is; and to have a life of warmth, food and shelter is infinitely
preferable to one in which we lack these fundamental things.

The Buddha’s view rooted karma in the process of rebirth, or

re-becoming. In India this was a generally recognized idea: that
we live through succeeding rebirths which are determined by our
karmic habits. When our actions bring about bad effects we shall
reap their consequences in a later life. Equally, goods acts will
produce a better rebirth. In this way a rigid distinction between
human and other life forms is not made. We may be reborn in a
higher or lower human situation, and subject to greater or lesser
hardship; but we may also be born in a different form - as an
animal, for example, and therefore subject to even greater
ignorance.
In the Jataka Tales (popular Buddhist fables), the previous
rebirths of the Buddha as various animals are recounted: he is
reborn as a bird, a monkey, a buffalo and an elephant amongst
others.
It is when the consequences of our ignorance and craving are
recognized in this way, and when the state of affairs is
understood as endless, that the purchase of the Buddha’s
teaching is registered more emphatically. The value of a present,
relatively comfortable existence is rendered negligible in the light
of future striving. Imprisoned in samsara for life sentence after
life sentence, it matters little whether your present cell offers
comparative ease or luxury, since it cannot last.
If we regard karma and rebirth as speculative theories or ideas,
it is unlikely that the Buddha’s teaching will hit home. We may
regard it as a noble and improving guide to living, but not as a
salvific message. For Buddhists, rebirth is axiomatic, because it is
the teaching of an enlightened mind; a mind which, in the last
stages of achieving that enlightened status, actually witnessed its
experience of former lives. Western Buddhists often embark on
the path without fully accepting this understanding, but the
important point is to trust in the Buddha’s teaching - even
though it may not be fully comprehensible.
One Western monk, reticent to undertake ordination, remarked
to his teacher that he could not affirm the idea of rebirth. His
teacher’s reply was that it was not necessary to do so, but that
not to go for refuge, on the basis that he could not yet affirm it,
was tantamount to committing himself to ignorance because he
was not already enlightened. It was the practice itself that
confirmed the truth or otherwise of the Buddha’s teaching. A
summary of the Buddhist teaching on samsaric existence,
concentrated in the first two Noble Truths, is depicted in the
Wheel of Becoming.
The Wheel of Becoming
At the centre of the wheel (its hub) are the three driving forces:
ignorance, desire or greed, and aversion, represented by a pig, a
cockerel and a snake. These three are linked together, with each
biting the others’ tail. Surrounding the hub is a circle divided
into two, a black and a white half. In the white half the figures
are ascending. In the black half they are moving down. This
depicts the karmic movement of figures absorbed in rising to a
higher state and those, in horror, sinking to a lower existence.

The six realms

The spokes of the wheel separate it into six samsaric realms. At
the top are the devas, or gods, in their heaven; a place of luxury,
pleasure and ease. To their right are the asuras, jealous gods,
driven by their desire to achieve the top realm and, in so doing,
warring with armies. Notice how the tree, rooted in their realm,
gives its fruit to the gods above. Their state of mind is
epitomized by the figure at the base of the tree seeking to chop
it down, in order to achieve the wish fulfilment (symbolized by
the fruit).

Below them is the animal realm, where consciousness is duller

and ignorance greater. The animals’ constant activity is to find
food, by preying on other animals or other life forms.

In the bottom realm are beings in a tormented state, their

consciousness filled with pain and fear as they burn, freeze and
undergo horrific deaths. This is the opposite of the gods’ realm:
hell as opposed to heaven.

The next realm upwards is that of the hungry ghosts, or pretas.

They are in a state of constant hunger or thirst which can never
be sated. Their enormous, swollen bellies can never be satisfied by
the amount of food they can take in through their thin necks and
tiny mouths. The little fruits of the stunted trees are protected by
protruding thorns and sharp branches. Whatever they touch turns
to fire or filth.

The final realm is that of humans. They go about their daily lives,
eating and drinking, giving birth, being treated for sickness,
becoming old and frail, being attacked and dying, and carrying
on with their work. There is also a figure meditating and
reflecting on the sum total of what he sees. Here is depicted the
suffering that the Buddha witnessed, and the higher possibility of
a precious human birth to reflect on and escape from it.
 mmim
if—

the Tibetan Wheel of Life

These six realms represent the inevitability of past and future
rebirths in different states, since we travel through them and
never abide in any particular realm for ever - not even as gods.
They also represent the states of mind which determine our
continual revolutions.
To Buddhists we are part of the ceaseless rhythm of nature,
which flows through us as through everything. In fact, to speak
of ourselves is only to speak of this rhythm. The constant motion
of every moment in the rising and falling of the sea; the
movement of the river and the air and our own breathing;
thoughts, growth and decay are all one process at work,
becoming and returning in endless cycles. Resisting this is our
attachment to the fiction that we are each abiding entities, and
the frustration this fiction entails is the dukkha that is founded
on a compounded ignorance. Letting go of this, by seeing
through such delusion, is the path to liberation. Beyond this
may a (the repeated movement of creativity and destruction) lie
peace and happiness, untouched by death and rebirth (which are
simply moments of momentous change in the samsaric cycle,
equivalent to the submersion of continents and the arising of new
species). The fact that we cannot see what lies beyond is
attributable only to our own ignorance and lack of sight or
wisdom, which cling to the self as though it were an immutable
object. Ignorance is part of that self, its creator in fact. Over time,
it can endure no more than a rock in a stream, a leaf in the wind,
a pebble on the beach or a cloud in the sky. Our myopic vision,
extending from birth to death, is incapable of conceiving this,
and so invents the concept of the soul to ensure our eternity. But
such an invention merely seals our fate. And far beyond this lies
the happiness of the Buddha.

For the gods, pride will eventually cause their downfall. For the
asuras, jealousy is their undoing. The animals are conditioned by
their instinctive behaviour. The figures in the hell realm cannot
escape fear and pain filling their minds. The hungry ghosts are
completely absorbed in the need to satisfy their hunger. The
humans (although this realm offers the possibility of release) are
too absorbed in their own karmic desires and conditioning, their
everyday activities, hopes and fears.

We may ourselves identify our own consciousness travelling

through these realms at different times, as we experience
temporary pleasure and fulfilment, anger and jealousy,
instinctive drives, pain and torment (from toothache to
heartache), lack of fulfilment and overarching ambition. In the
human realm, it is possible to be aware of all these phenomena
as they affect us and others, and to observe dispassionately.
In each realm is an encircled Buddha figure, whose teaching is
skilfully adapted to those who inhabit it, and is depicted by what
he holds in his hands. Everywhere in samsara the truth is
available, but it is more accessible to some than to others.

Dependent origination

The rim of the wheel is divided into twelve segments and scenes. These
show how beings pass from one realm to another, and are called the
nidanas. They are
1 a blind man with a stick
2 a potter with a wheel and pots
3 a monkey climbing a flowering tree
4 a boat with four passengers, one of whom is steering
5 an empty house
6 a man and a woman embracing
7 a man with an arrow in his eye
8 a woman offering a drink to a seated man
9 a man gathering fruit from a tree
10 a pregnant woman
11 a woman giving birth to a child
12 a man carrying a corpse to the cremation ground

These scenes depict Buddhist teaching on dependent origination: the causal

chain which ensures that the Wheel of Samsara keeps revolving. Relating to
the figures shown, dependent origination states:

1 Because of ignorance, we suffer.

2 Because of ignorance, there arises Will-to-Action.
3 Because of Will-to-Action, Consciousness.
4 Because of Consciousness, Psychophysical Existence.
5 Because of Psychophysical Existence, the Six Organs of Sense (eye,
ear, nose, tongue, body [the sense of touch], and mind).
6 Because of the Six Organs of Sense, Contact.
7 Because of Contact, Sensation (or Feeling).
8 Because of Sensation, Craving.
9 Because of Craving, Attachment (or Grasping).
10 Because of Attachment, Becoming (or Worldly Existence).
11 Because of Becoming, Birth.
12 Because of Birth, decay, grief, lamentation, (physical) suffering,
dejection, and despair. (All of these constitute suffering in general.)
The Wheel is held by a fearful master with three eyes, fangs and
a crown of skulls. He is Yama, the Lord of Death, who has
ultimate control over the fate of those who live in samsara,
conditioned through their ignorance to see it as reality - as their
natural state.
The Wheel can also be understood as a mirror. Yama holds it up
to each one of us, and in it we recognize what we understand to
be our own reflection - this is what we are. Only through
understanding the truth communicated by the Buddha (as when
he gave his first darsana - teaching - in the Deer Park at Benares,
and turned the wheel of the dharma) can we transform our
delusion into knowledge.
The third and fourth Noble Truths explain how this can be done.

The third Noble Truth: the cessation

of suffering (jnirodha)
Nirodha means to control. Control of the craving or thirst of
attachment is the third teaching. If we accepted only the first
two Noble Truths and eschewed the last two, we would have a
teaching about the way things are, but no remedy for this
depressing state of affairs. The first two truths diagnose the
condition, but the great achievement of the Buddha was to offer
a cure; therefore, as far as Buddhists are concerned, he is the
physician par excellence.
Nirodha is the extinguishing of thirst or craving, to be achieved
by rooting out attachment. It results in a state called nirvana
(nibbana) in which the fires of craving have ceased to burn and
there is no more suffering.

One of the problems we have in understanding nirvana is that

this word is used for a state in which something has happened,
without describing what that state is actually like. Buddhists
maintain that it would be erroneous to speculate about what
nirvana is like, because it would achieve nothing: the important
thing is to treat the condition. If we were to ask someone with
an apparently incurable disease whether they wished for a newly
available cure, they would not stop to speculate about what it
would be like once they were cured. If it cured them, they would
know they were well, because they would no longer be suffering
from their illness. Thus nirvana may be likened to setting down
a heavy load after a long journey, to being released from a
worrying debt or being set free from prison. In other words, it
is described in terms of a cessation of those things which cause
suffering.

As with all illness, of course, the proposed cure is of no value

unless you accept the diagnosis, so this third truth is to be
understood in the light of the first two. The possibility of nirvana
cannot be realized unless our present existence is understood as
dukkha.

Buddhist scriptures use many metaphors to contrast dukkha and

nirvana. One of the starkest is that used in the Fire Sermon:

The Fire Sermon

Bhikkhus, all is burning. And what is the all that is
burning? Bhikkhus, the eye is burning, visible forms are
burning, visual consciousness is burning, visual
impression is burning, also whatever sensation, pleasant
or painful or neither-pleasant-nor-painful, arises on
account of the visual impression, that too is burning.
Burning with what? Burning with the fire of lust, with the
fire of hate, with the fire of delusion; I say it is burning
with birth, ageing and death, with sorrows, with
lamentations, with pains, with grief, with despairs.
(W. Rahula, What the Buddha Taught,
Gordon Fraser, 1982, p 95)

The Buddha recounts the same experience for all the senses, the
body and the mind; he explains that one who knows this
becomes dispassionate, and:

Being dispassionate, he becomes detached, through

detachment he is liberated. When liberated there is
knowledge that he is liberated. And he knows: Birth is
exhausted, the holy life has been lived, what has to be done
is done, there is no more left to be done on this account.
(W. Rahula, What the Buddha Taught,
Gordon Fraser, 1982, pp 96-7)

Nirvana
In another darsana he speaks of nirvana as ‘getting rid of all
cares and troubles’ (Sabbasava sutta). Other poetic terms which
he uses include: the harbour of refuge; the cool cave; the home
of ease; the place of bliss.
Perhaps the greatest difficulty for non-Buddhists is that we want
to understand nirvana through ideas and language with which
we are already familiar. Thus, we might equate ‘nirvana’ with
‘heaven’, and expect to find luxuriant and elaborate descriptions
of how life there will be immeasurably better than in the here and
now. This conception is fraught with problems, because nirvana
is part of a world view constructed in quite a different way. There
is a continuing selfhood in heaven which nirvana denies; there is
a tendency to understand heaven as a future state, following on
from earthly life, that nirvana is not; there is a belief that heaven
is, at least to some degree, understandable in earthly terms,
whereas nirvana is not even the opposite of samsaric existence.
Nirvana entails the cessation of everything.
The problem we then have is that nirvana sounds dreadfully
negative, as though everything precious to us is denied and
destroyed. The Buddhist response to this is that speculation of
this kind is simply unhelpful. Nirvana is realized in the midst of
our everyday existence:
He who has realized the Truth, Nirvana, is the happiest
being in the world. He is free from all ‘complexes’ and
obsessions, the worries and troubles that torment others.
His mental health is perfect. He does not repent the past,
nor does he brood over the future. He lives fully in the
present. Therefore he appreciates and enjoys things in the
purest sense without self-projections. He is joyful,
exultant, enjoying the pure life, his faculties pleased, free
from anxiety, serene and peaceful. As he is free from
selfish desire, hatred, ignorance, conceit, pride and all
such ‘defilements’, he is pure and gentle, full of universal
love, compassion, kindness, sympathy, understanding and
tolerance. His service to others is of the purest, for he has
no thought of self. He gains nothing, accumulates
nothing, not even anything spiritual, because he is free
from the illusion of Self, and the ‘thirst’ for becoming.
(W. Rahula, What the Buddha Taught,
Gordon Fraser, 1982, p 43)
So, rather than speculate, we must discern this way of being in
the examples of others and cultivate it in ourselves. The Buddhist
teacher, Nagasena, was once asked:

‘Venerable Nagasena, does he who has not received

Nirvana know how happy a state Nirvana is?’
‘Yes, he knows it.’
‘But how can he know that without his receiving
Nirvana?’
 ‘Now what do you think...? Do those whose hands and
feet have not been cut off know how sad a thing it is to
have them cut off?’
‘Yes, Sir, that they know!’
‘But how do they know it?’
‘Well, by hearing the sound of the lamentation of those
whose hands and feet have been cut off, they know it.’
‘Just so ... it is by hearing the glad words of those who
have seen Nirvana that they who have not received it
know how happy a state it is.’
(E. Conze (trans), Buddhist Scriptures,
Penguin Classics, 1959, p 156)

Here we are confronted with an apparent paradox in Buddhist

thinking. If our aim is to cultivate peace, ease, bliss and well¬
being in ourselves, does this not make nirvana or enlightenment
a selfish goal? How can it equate with the Buddha’s emphasis on
the extinction of self (anatta)? The Buddhist answers that this is
a misunderstanding of why these goals are sought. The self is
composed of self-centredness, which arises from attachment or
craving. It constantly needs to be re-affirmed - and yet such re¬
affirmation is ultimately unattainable, because this self is a
fiction. Throughout our everyday lives we look for this
affirmation from those around us. When someone praises me I
feel confident and happy. When I am blamed or deprecated I feel
anxious, even angry. When someone else is praised I feel jealous;
I experience envy. These negative states of mind are a result of
attachment to my own self-centredness; even my positive states
of mind depend on the same thing. In this condition I cannot
freely give and be altruistic. When we speak of cultivating
nirvana it is not dependent on my self-centredness, my ego, being
affirmed. It is a release from that need. In this release it is
possible to give without receiving, to offer loving kindness
without first being its recipient. Freed from this flux of emotions
and mental instability, I can now act freely and give when
needed. I am also able to direct my attention to others’ needs,
rather than being preoccupied by my own. An enlightened state
of mind is one in which this creative giving occurs spontaneously
and without hindrance. Were the qualities inherent in an
enlightened mind to be cultivated for the ego’s own sake, i.e. if
that were the motivation, then they could not be achieved.
In Camus’ novel The Fall, we encounter a character who sees
through such self-deceit, and opts out from the status and respect
he is accorded because of his mistrust of his own motives.
Similarly, from a Buddhist point of view, the self-delusion this
character formerly suffered from could not result in the ease,
equanimity and contentment that is conferred by the extinguishing
of craving. For this reason, the path to nirvana involves
overcoming specific obstacles in oneself. This is expressed in the
Five Hindrances (Nivarana): attachment to sensuality; ill-will;
torpor of mind or body; worry; and wavering doubt. Reflecting on
these purifies understanding and counteracts such self-deceit. By
reflecting on and learning from them a greater awareness occurs.
One teacher puts it as follows:

All these feelings of hunger or thirst or restlessness or

jealousy or fear, of lust and greed and sleepiness - all these
we can regard as teachers. Rather than resenting them,
saying: ‘What did I do to deserve this?’ you should say:
‘Thank you very much. I’ll have to learn this lesson some
day, I might as well do it now, rather than put it off.’
(Ven. Ajahn Sumedho, Cittaviveka: Teachings from the
Silent Mind, Amaravati Publications, 1992, p 68)

The fourth Noble Truth: the path to

the cessation of suffering (magga)
This is known as the ‘Middle Way’, and avoids the two extremes
of indulgence in sensual pleasures and self-mortification. It is
also known as the ‘Noble Eightfold Path’, because it outlines
eight categories through which purity of mind, calm and insight
can be achieved.

These eight divisions are grouped into three aspects of Buddhist

practice: Ethical Conduct (Sila); Mental Discipline {Samadhi);
Wisdom (Panna or Prajna).

The Eightfold Path

1 Right Understanding (Samma ditthi) <*
2 Right Intention or Orientation
{Samma sankappa) r Wisdom
3 Right Speech (Samma vaca) \
4 Right Action {Samma kammanta)
[ Ethical Conduct
5 Right Livelihood {Samma ajiva)
6 Right Effort {Samma vayama) \
7 Right Mindfulness {Samma sati)
\ Mental Discipline
8 Right Concentration {Samma samadhi)
As with all things in Buddhism, it is important to understand the
55
interrelationships of these categories. The Eightfold Path is
sometimes likened to a ladder with eight rungs, as though one
might develop by practising each discipline in turn. This is a 00
c
misleading idea, because the Buddha stressed that progress is a
a
3-
made by the practice of each aspect of the path in concert with 0)
of
the others. <t>
0)
For example, it is important to recognize that Ethical Conduct is o
3-
absolutely necessary in order to achieve Wisdom, and that 5 ‘
<Q
without Mental Discipline we lack the capacity for Ethical
Conduct. Similarly, therefore, the achievement of Compassion
and Wisdom, which are the characteristics of an Enlightened
One, cannot be gained separately and are not distinct. Everything GO
goes hand in hand. The wise person is the one who acts
compassionately, the compassionate person is the one who acts
wisely.

One who treads the Eightfold Path is, therefore, doing

something quite different from one who ‘wanders’ on the Wheel
of Becoming. He or she recognizes the possibility of
improvement and eventual emancipation and, acting on that
possibility - with the Buddha’s teaching and his or her own
practice as the guide, alongside others who are treading the path
- works creatively toward a more refined awareness of how to
live well. The Eightfold Path is like a map which charts this
journey; its practice is like the raft to the other shore.

Ethical Conduct
The Buddha said his teachings were ‘for the good of the many,
for the happiness of the many, out of compassion for the world’.
If Ethical Conduct does not arise through following the
teachings, then they are of no use whatsoever. The quality of
compassion is the pinnacle of Buddhist achievement, and Ethical
Conduct therefore is not an end in itself but a means to develop
compassion. It is the cultivation of loving kindness, generosity
and forgiveness. These qualities will manifest themselves in our
activity in the world, in that which we give out in Right Speech,
Right Action and Right Livelihood. To the extent that these are
practised, so we will decrease the suffering of others and
ourselves. We shall also purify ourselves. Understanding and
practising these three aspects of the path should not be seen
simply as a matter of duty and discipline. Certainly it is that, but
it is more. Ultimately, such actions should become effortless and
spontaneous, rather than a matter of grim resolution.
Right Speech means abstaining from telling lies, slandering and
promoting division and emnity, using abusive language, and
indulging in careless gossip. In some cases, if one cannot say
something helpful, it is better to keep a noble silence.

Right Action promotes peaceful and harmonious conduct. It has

exactly the same aims as Right Speech, but a different form of
expression. Doing that which causes harm to others is its exact
opposite, whether this be through taking life, stealing or taking
advantage of someone sexually.
Right Livelihood determines that one should abstain from
making a living through causing harm, whether by trading in
arms or intoxicating drinks, killing animals or cheating.

All these abstentions are indications of what does not improve

the lives of others or ourselves; but we need to analyse the
reasons why this is so important. On one level it is clear that the
quality of life is dependent on our conduct. When someone does
an injustice to me, in word or deed, I immediately feel aggrieved.
Anger arises, and I want to hit back in some way. My state of
mind is imbalanced, and I am tempted to act hastily and without
due thought for the consequences. Multiply this by the number
of acts of this kind committed, and we move from individual
antagonism to social unrest - and ultimately to war. Look
around the world and you will see that the effect of this is
endemic. It is not that this happens sporadically, but that there is
a perpetual chain of events caused by the continual cycle of such
activities. They have a momentum evoked through the mind and
hearts of individuals and groups which engulfs us at work, in the
home and even between friends. This momentum has a history in
individual lives and within nations that is hard to rectify. Its
result is a lack of trust and willingness to put things right. For
Buddhists, this is part and parcel of karmic conditioning; the law
of cause and effect that ensures samsaric existence continues to
flourish. The only way to reverse this process is to take
responsibility for it individually, and determine not to contribute
to it. Unless individuals alone decide that in the context of their
own lives and sphere of influence they are going to behave
differently, there can be no diminishing of this state of affairs.
This is dukkha in action, and there is no other agency to which
we can appeal for help but ourselves. Sila is the only antidote to
dukkha; there is no other palliative and no other way of aspiring
to true happiness. However, the point about Sila being an aspect
of the Eightfold Path is that Ethical Conduct is not attainable
without Mental Discipline and Wisdom.
Mental Discipline
The Buddha addressed his brethren thus: ‘It is through not
understanding and not grasping the Four Noble Truths, O
brethren, that we have had to run for so long, to wander for so
long in this weary path of transmigration, both you and I.’

The power of the Noble Truths lies in this aspect of mental

discipline: Right Effort, Right Mindfulness and Right
Concentration. Without these nothing is attainable. Right Effort
involves preventing evil and unwholesome states of mind from
arising; ridding oneself of such unwholesome states of mind that
have already arisen; producing, or causing to arise, good and
wholesome states of mind and bringing them to perfection. This
necessitates generating the will for this to happen, and a single-
minded application to the task. Without effort, which is itself an
act of will, doubt, anxiety and other hindrances will distract the
mind from its task. We are reminded here of numerous crucial
events in the Buddha’s life which could have been resolved quite
differently: the episode of going forth and leaving his loved ones;
the exertion of denying Mara’s temptations; ignoring Brahma’s
exhortations to preach the dharma. Without Right Effort and its
motivation of the will, it is difficult not to be sidetracked into
admitting the possibility of a different way of dealing with
things, and of thinking of one’s goal as being over-ambitious,
idealistic or extreme.
Right Mindfulness provides the context for Right Effort. It
relates it to the here and now. It is concerned with immediate
states of consciousness, not speculative possibilities. It involves
diligent awareness of the activities of the body, sensations and
feelings; the activities of the mind, and ideas, thoughts and
conceptions. In other words, it monitors what is actually going
on. Without mindfulness effort would be blind, random and
ineffectual. Without effort mindfulness would be barren and
unproductive. Without both, morality, or ethical conduct, would
be no more than just a duty.
Right Concentration underpins Right Mindfulness. Without
concentration mindfulness, let alone Ethical Conduct, is
impossible. Concentration is a fundamental skill, in that is
develops attentiveness. In the various schools of Buddhism it is
practised in different ways, but all concentrate on attention to
detail, bringing the capacity of the mind to a full awareness of
every thought, action and sensation. One of the basic practices is
concentration on breathing (anapanasati). If Right Mindfulness
is a matter of awareness, Right Concentration is the basis upon
which that awareness is attained. Being able to be aware of the
process of breathing - a fundamental physiological function -
enables us to discern what is actually happening. When this
concentration is applied to sensations and feelings; the activities
of the mind; the ideas, thoughts and conceptions that arise and
fall away in our mental habits; then a true understanding of the
way things are, is arrived at. It is all too easy to rationalize what
is going on in ourselves as individuals, such that we affirm our
desires and longings, but the antidote to this is to present
ourselves with evidence for things being otherwise. The purpose
of Right Concentration is to attain a focus of mind that cannot
be knocked off balance by inclinations that arise as a result of
desire or craving. For example, in an attitude of meditation, or
within our daily life, we may suffer from boredom and seek to
relieve it by pursuing a different goal that will produce
immediate pleasure or interest. Immediately, our efforts are put
into achieving this aim. We are no longer mindful of the overall
context in which we live, nor the wish to follow the dharma, and
we pursue short-term pleasure and happiness. Our concentration
is then not connected to what is happening in our bodies and
minds, but to how we might achieve what we momentarily crave.
We are no longer in control of what is going on, we simply serve
the interests of that desire which has arisen.

Right Effort, Right Mindfulness and Right Concentration are the

safeguards against such forgetfulness and the foundation of sila.

Wisdom
Wisdom consists in Right Intention or Orientation and Right
Understanding. They are dependent on Right Mindfulness, since
Right Thought constitutes selfless renunciation or detachment
(as opposed to attachment, outlined previously) and Right
Understanding is the realization of things as they are (as opposed
to suffering the delusion that arises from pursuing desires).
Wisdom is not the result of cleverness or intellectual capacity,
which are as much prey to karmic inclinations as any other
capacity of mind. This is a common misreading of the Buddha’s
teaching, since it is presumed that following the logic of such an
analytical summary of human experience necessitates great
intellectual acumen. But cleverness can be as much an obstacle as
it can be an aid to wisdom. It can be a tool used to proliferate
self-deceit, as well as being used to cut through it. Wisdom is the
summation of what has already been practised, but Right
Intention or Orientation and Right Understanding are also the
basis of the practice itself, since they are the motivation for Right
Effort and the further aspects of the path. Clearly, therefore,
wisdom can be seen as the final factor of enlightenment, but it is
also cumulative; a refinement that grows as thought and
understanding become progressively freed from ignorance. This
unfettering is gained by practising the path as a whole. The term
that sums up this process is bhavana, or mental development. It
involves a devotional aspect, in that it is a wholehearted
commitment to self-transformation. It also has a reflective
aspect, in that it demands an awareness of what is happening in
the here and now. It involves a highly practical aspect, in that it
has a necessary purchase on the way we act in every situation.
Different Buddhist movements address these forms of practice in
their own particular ways, but all concur on the need to address
all three.
The result of this path, pursued to its conclusion, has been
preserved in the words of the Buddha, addressing his disciple
Ananda, concerning the question of the mystery of death, when
close to his own eventual passing:

Those who have died after the complete destruction of the

three bonds of lust, of covetousness, and of the egotistical
cleaving to existence, need not fear the state after death.
They will not be in a state of suffering; their minds will not
continue as a Karma of evil deeds or sin, but are assured
of final deliverance. When they die, nothing will remain of
them but their good thoughts, their righteous acts, and the
bliss that proceeds from truth and righteousness. As rivers
must at last reach the distant main, so their minds will be
reborn in higher states of existence and continue to press
on to their ultimate goal, which is the ocean of truth, the
eternal peace of Nirvana.

Men are anxious about death and their fate after death;
but there is nothing strange in this, that a human being
must die. However, that you should inquire about them,
and having heard the truth still be anxious about the dead,
this is wearisome to the Blessed One ...
Hell is destroyed for me, and rebirth as an animal, or a
spirit, or in any place of woe. I am converted; I am no
longer liable to be reborn in a state of suffering, and am
assured of final deliverance.
(H. Dumoulin and J.C. Maraldo (eds), Buddhism in the
Modern World, Collier Macmillan, 1976, p 21)
and schools

In this chapter you will learn:

• about the main Buddhist
scriptures and schools and
• about the differences in their
teachings and doctrines
• about how Buddhism
changed as it entered new
cultures.
Like other religious traditions, Buddhism has divided into
various branches over its history, and its scriptures reflect this
diversity.

After teaching for forty-five years, the Buddha died at the age of
eighty. This is called his paranirvana, and is seen as a final release
from the round of rebirth. His teachings were memorized by his
followers and passed on by oral tradition. By 480 BCE a council
was called to ratify the Buddha’s teachings. The aim of this
council, held in Rajgir, was to agree a definitive version of the
Buddha’s message.

By 380 BCE, a second council was called at Vesali to ensure that

the Vinaya - the code of discipline - was adhered to by all
Buddhist monks. At this gathering, differences of opinion arose
as to what the Buddha actually taught. At this point the first
division in the Buddha’s followers arose. This division increased
until, eventually, two main schools in Buddhism emerged. One
became known as the Mabayana, meaning ‘Great Vehicle’, and
the other comprised a number of more conservative groups, of
which the surviving example was the Tberavada, meaning ‘Way
of the Elders’. The Mahay ana spread north-west from India into
present-day Nepal, China, Tibet, Japan, Korea and Vietnam.
Theravada Buddhism spread southwards into Sri Lanka, Burma,
Thailand, Cambodia and Laos.

palm leaf with Buddha image

62 The Theravada Scriptures
8? It is said that the first Buddhist scriptures were written down by
9. 3- Theravada monks at the fourth council in Sri Lanka, during the
» «• first century BCE. They used the ancient colloquial Indian
language of Pali, spoken by the Buddha. The scriptures were
written on palm leaves and became known as the Pali Canon or
Tipitaka. The term tipitaka means ‘three baskets’, which refers to
the threefold division of the scriptures, known as Vinaya Pitaka,
Sutta Pitaka and Abhidhamma Pitaka.

The Tipitaka
The Vinaya is the book of discipline for monks containing the
227 rules by which they must live. The Sutta Pitaka contains the
teachings of the Buddha on the Four Noble Truths, Eightfold
Path and the popular Buddhist literature that constitutes the
Dhammapada and the Jataka Tales. Sutta means ‘thread’, and
indicates the connection seen to exist between the different
teachings of the Buddha that constitutes the overall world view
of the tradition. Dhammapada means ‘Path of Truth’. It consists
of an anthology of the Buddha’s sayings, collected between 563
and 483 bce. They act as a source of guidance for Buddhists
everywhere but especially for those in the Theravada tradition.
The Jataka Tales are a collection of stories of the Buddha’s
previous lives. They focus on the Ten Perfections which lead to
perfect Buddhahood: generosity, virtue, renunciation, wisdom,
energy, patience, truthfulness, resolution, loving kindness and an
even temper. The Abhidhamma Pitaka contains the more
philosophical teachings which underpin the Buddhist
understanding of life. They were intended as a basis of the
Buddhist outlook which opposed other Indian conceptions of
reality. They are essentially philosophical and psychological,
arguing the Buddhist perspective against other prevailing
philosophical positions in the Indian sub-continent, and are the
source of its doctrinal formulations.

The Dhammapada
The Dhammapada, however, remains the most common source
of inspiration to which lay Buddhists refer. Its teachings and
value can perhaps best be indicated by quoting from the text
itself.
The verses below refer to controlling the mind:
The mind is wavering and restless, difficult to guard and
restrain: let the wise man straighten his mind as a maker
of arrows makes his arrows straight ...
The mind is fickle and flighty, it flies after fancies
wherever it likes: it is difficult indeed to restrain. But it is
a great good to control the mind; a mind self-controlled is
a source of great joy ...
An enemy can hurt an enemy, and a man who hates can
hurt another man; but a man’s own mind, if wrongly
directed, can do him a far greater harm.
A father or a mother, or a relative, can indeed do good
to a man; but his own right-directed mind can do to him
a far greater good.
(Translation J. Mascaro, Penguin, 1973, p 40)

The Jatakas
Equally, the example of the Buddha on his route to
enlightenment through previous lives, is exemplified in the
following story from the Jatakas:

The Bodhisattva and the Hungry Tigress

The Buddha told the following story to Ananda: Once
upon a time, in the remote past, there lived a king,
Maharatha by name. He was rich in gold, grain and
chariots, and his power, strength, and courage were
irresistible. He had three sons who were like young gods
to look at. They were named Mahapranada, Mahadeva
and Mahasattva.
One day the king went for relaxation into a park. The
princes, delighted with the beauties of the park and the
flowers which could be seen everywhere, walked about
here and there until they came to a large thicket of
bamboos. There they dismissed their servants, in order to
rest for a while. But Mahapranada said to his two
brothers: ‘I feel rather afraid here. There might easily be
some wild beasts about, and they might do us harm.’
Mahadeva replied: ‘I also feel ill at ease. Though it is not
my body I fear for. It is the thought of separation from
those I love which terrifies me.’

As the princes strolled about in the solitary thicket they

saw a tigress, surrounded by five cubs, seven days old.
 Hunger and thirst had exhausted the tigress, and her body
64
was quite weak. On seeing her, Mahapranada called out:
« 09
‘The poor animal suffers from having given birth to the
O | five cubs only a week ago! If she finds nothing to eat, she
w 55- will either eat her own young or die from hunger!’
Mahasattva replied: ‘How can this poor exhausted
creature find food?’ Mahapranada said: ‘Tigers live on
fresh meat and warm blood.’ Mahadeva said: ‘She is quite
exhausted, overcome by hunger and thirst, scarcely alive
and very weak. In this state she cannot possibly catch any
prey. And who would sacrifice himself to preserve her
life?’ Mahapranada said: ‘Yes, self-sacrifice is so difficult!’
Greatly agitated, the three brothers carefully watched the
tigress for some time, and then went towards her. But
Mahasattva thought to himself: ‘Now the time has come
for me to sacrifice myself! For a long time I have served
this putrid body and given it beds and clothes, food and
drink, and conveyances of all kinds. Yet it is doomed to
perish and fall down, and in the end it will break up and
be destroyed. How much better to leave this ungrateful
body of one’s own accord in good time! It cannot subsist
for ever, because it is like urine which must come out.

‘Today I will use it for a sublime deed.’

‘For the weal of the world I wish to win enlightenment,

incomparably wonderful. From deep compassion I now
give away my body, so hard to quit, unshaken in my
mind.’

The friendly prince then threw himself down in front of

the tigress. But she did nothing to him. The Bodhisattva
noticed that she was too weak to move. As a merciful man
he had taken no sword with him. He therefore cut his
throat with a sharp piece of bamboo, and fell down near
the tigress. She noticed the Bodhisattva’s body all covered
with blood, and in no time ate up all the flesh and blood,
leaving only the bones.

‘It was I, Ananda, who at that time and on that occasion

was that prince Mahasattva.’

(E. Conze (trans), Buddhist Scriptures,

Penguin Classics, 1959, pp 24-26)
The significance of this story is, of course, not that we should
65
look for opportunities to sacrifice ourselves, but that we should
recognize the need to act compassionately. Not an easy task in
the course of life, but a signal that our own value lies beyond our
usual preoccupations.
</o>
2.
The arahant ■O

The highest aspiration in Theravada Buddhism is to become an

arahant (arhat), or one who has passed beyond the fetters of (A
0)
samsaric existence. □
a
Ah happy indeed the Arahants! In them is no craving
found. The ‘I am’ conceit is rooted out; confusion’s net is
burst, lust free they have attained; translucent is the mind
of them.
(Samyutta Nikaya 111:83)
The arahant is the ideal of the Theravadin school. The word
refers to those saints or sages who, having followed the Buddha’s
teachings, upon death, will enter into nibbana (nirvana). They
are fully emancipated.
The scriptures describe an arahant by a standard formula, as one
in whom the ‘outflows’ (sense desire, becoming, ignorance,
wrong views) have ‘dried up’; one who has ‘done what has to be
done’. However, the question remained (and later exercised
Buddhist thinkers) as to the distinction between an arahant and
a buddha. It was this distinction that the Mahayana school
exploited, indicating that the ideal of arahantship and the goal of
nibbana were inferior to the larger aspiration of buddhahood
and the bodhisattva path (described later), which accentuated the
virtues of compassion, and of gaining emancipation for the sake
of others rather than for one’s own entry into nirvana.

The Mahayana Scriptures

The spread of Buddhism in different directions resulted in a
diversity of doctrines and scriptures. For the Theravadins, the
authenticity of the scriptures was determined by which texts,
historically, actually came from the Buddha himself. But in
opposition to this, Mahayana Buddhists asserted that certain
other scriptures were just as authoritative, even though they
could not be traced back to the Buddha in a historical way. They
claimed authority more by mythological connection than
historical. For example, the Prajna Paramita Sutras (the
 teachings on Perfect Wisdom), which are scriptures of great
66
significance in the Mahayana tradition, are said to have been
8? revealed by the Buddha himself, but were too difficult to be
understood by his contemporaries. Because of this they were
2. 3-
w co ¬ stored in the palace of the nagas (serpents) in the Nether World.
When the time was right to reveal them the great Buddhist
thinker, Nagarjuna, brought them back into the human realm.

The Mahayana scriptures are written in the ancient, classical

Indian language of Sanskrit. Mahayana texts vary in form and
introduce both mythological and philosophical features not
found in the Theravada. Siddhartha, the historical Buddha, often
takes on a more mystical and poetic character. An important
development reveals that he was not the only Buddha: there were
others before him and others yet to come. Visiting a Tibetan
shrine room, one is struck by the plethora of forms of
enlightened beings. These represent particular qualities or
energies, and appear not in strictly naturalistic form, but
expressing their symbolic significance. Thus, for example,
Avalokiteshvara represents the quality of compassion, Manjushri
represents the quality of wisdom.

Avalokiteshvara Manjushri

Most significantly, in one of these representations

Avalokiteshvara has one thousand hands, each containing an
eye. This indicates his ability to see all and extend his service to
the suffering of all living beings. Manjushri wields a sword
which represents the capacity of wisdom to cut through all
67
ignorance.
« 09
Q. c
Behind these representations is the development of doctrine, 9 CL
which serves to explain them. 2. s’
« 55’

The bodhisattva
The bodhisattva, literally bodhi (enlightened) and sattva
(essence), is a being who delays his entry into nirvana in order to
help all sentient beings. Out of compassion, he or she returns to
the samsaric realm to help others along the path.
The Diamond Sutra says: ‘A bodhisattva is not attached to
anything when he gives, like a person in the daylight who can see
things as they really are.’ For this reason Mahayana Buddhists
take what is called the Bodhisattva vow, which states:

The deluding passions are inexhaustible.

I vow to extinguish them all.
Sentient beings are numberless.
I vow to save them all.
The truth is impossible to expound.
I vow to expound it.
The way of the Buddha is unattainable.
I vow to attain it.
Such an exercise in idealism has to have a rationale. This is
located in the Mahayana emphasis on no-self, which denies
individualism or ‘self-ness’ in all its forms. The Diamond Sutra
explains this in the following way:

If a bodhisattva has any notion of a being, a person, or a

self, he could not be called a bodhisattva. A bodhisattva
should not give a gift while basing himself on the notion
of form, sound, smell, taste, touch, or while basing
himself on any thought. He should give without the
notion of a giver or a gift. That great being who gives
without basing himself on any notion, his merit is not
easy to measure.
(Diamond Sutra 3)
This idea is based on the teachings of the Prajna Paramita. The
wisdom of a bodhisattva is perfect, and goes beyond the wisdom
of the world. It fully understands the absence of abiding entities,
such as selfhood. It is based on the notion of sunyata, meaning
emptiness or void. So the Heart Sutra states:
 In emptiness there is no form, nor feeling, nor perception,
nor impulse, nor consciousness; no eye, ear, nose, tongue,
body, mind; no forms, sounds, smells, tastes, touchables
or objects of mind; no sight-organ elements, and so forth
until we come to no mind-consciousness element.
(Heart Sutra 5)
Here we have arrived at a highly abstruse philosophical position
which, nevertheless, has important practical consequences. In
order to live well in this world, attain our inherent buddha-
nature, and avoid rebirth, selflessness has to be realized through
developing wisdom and compassion. So, in the Mabayana,
cultivating insight and devotion go hand in hand. This creative
process neither ignores the intellect nor renders it supreme. As a
consequence, the relationship between the monastic sangha and
lay life becomes closer. The way to buddhahood becomes
broader, without lessening the qualities aspired to. The
bodhisattva path is rooted in the practice of the six perfections:
patience, giving, morality, vigour, meditation and wisdom. The
difficulties encountered in this are poetically described in the
career of Avalokiteshvara.

Avalokiteshvara
It is said that Avalokiteshvara was entrusted with the task of
rescuing all living beings from samsara. In attempting to
accomplish this he grew exhausted and despaired. At this
moment he gave vent to tears that fell to the ground and grew as
lotuses (illustrating the creative power of his compassion). From
these lotus flowers were born the Bodhisattvas Green and White
Tara. Their destiny was to assist him in his task. As an indication
of this, Green Tara is always depicted with one foot released
from the meditation posture towards the ground, illustrating her
readiness to come to the aid of suffering beings. There is also a
story that removes Tara from the mythological realm, indicating
not only the practicality of the doctrine of compassion, but also
the ignorance of thinking that form is the means of detecting the
presence of a compassionate being. This story goes as follows:

In lifetime after lifetime Tara has manifested in female

form, demonstrating that enlightenment is attainable by
all - men and women alike.
Once there was a lone traveller making his perilous way
across the forbidding plateau of Tibet. Exhausted and
without food he was in immediate danger of losing his life
when he came across a young girl tending a herd of yaks.
69
She took the weary man into her tent, nursed him back to
g co
health and fed him until his strength returned. As the man
was recovering he observed that the young girl was alone. I»
w 5”
Single-handedly she was doing the work that even a
number of strong men would have found difficult.
Eventually he was fit to travel again and the girl sent him
on his way with a bag of provisions. Although it was a
long journey, the man discovered that the food she had
given him never ran out until he was back in his own
valley again. Marvelling at all that had happened he
thought, ‘Perhaps that girl was actually Tara!’ When he
went to his lama and told him the story, the lama
upbraided him saying ‘Of course she was Tara, you
blockhead! How stupid of you not to recognize her. You
must have a strong connection with her, but if you ever
want to see her again you had better purify your delusions
and practise harder.’
(J. Landaw, Tara’s Colouring Book,
Wisdom Publications, 1979)

Green Tara and White Tara

70 The Three Body Doctrine
W OJ Clearly, this development of the idea of buddhahood to include
the historical Buddha, buddhas of other ages, and the principle
O §= of sunyata, or voidness, needed to be systematically expounded;
w 55
we find this in the Three Body (Trikaya) Doctrine.

The historical Buddha (Siddhartha Gautama) was identified as

the nirmanakaya (form body), a particular expression in one
place and time of the eternal truths of the dharma. The
dharmakaya was identified as the eternal principle of Truth,
which transcended space and time. Through meditation and
devotion Buddhists came to describe images of buddhas which
are not historical but which are archetypal. These are identified
as sambhogakaya (bliss bodies). Each of these different images
represents a particular aspect of the enlightenment experience.
They are a more refined understanding of the nature of
enlightenment than the Buddha as an historical figure, pointing
to the more abstract awareness of the idea of the ultimate truth
expressed in the idea of dharmakaya.

The Lotus Sutra

The Lotus Sutra, or Lotus of the True Law (Saddbarma
Pundarika), is often referred to by some Mahay ana Buddhists as
the final teaching of the Buddha, and thus has a venerated place
in the Mabayana Canon. One emphasis for which it is acclaimed
is its teaching on ‘upaya’ or ‘skill in means’. We have already
referred to skilfulness but it is expounded at great length in this
particular text.

The Lotus Sutra explains that there are different teachings used by
the Buddha to encourage the faithful to perfect buddhahood,
according to their individual propensities and capacities. All the
same, though there may be said to be many paths to the same goal,
they all constitute aspects of one vehicle, that is, one overall path,
that of the Bodhisattva Mahasattva or Great Being. However, the
Lotus Sutra allows the Buddhist message to become available to
all, relative to their particular capacities. It is an acknowledgement
that people do not start in the same place with regard to their
apprehension of the truth. In much the same way, to teach
quantum physics to a child would be an unproductive way of
furthering their development. This idea is explained in the
Parable of the Burning House.
 The Parable of the Burning House 71
A father owns an old house which, while he is out, catches on fire. « w
£> c
3- Q.
He hears his own children still playing in the house, unaware that O o
2. 3
it is burning. Absorbed in their amusement, the children pay no w 55'
attention to their father calling them out of the house. He then tells (0
o
them he has special carts of different kinds for each of them to
play with, and encourages the children to run out and find them. c
Once out of the house and free from danger, they find the carts are 3W
0)
all the same - but better than any of them had expected. 3
a
The burning house is the samsaric world in which, foolishly, we are
absorbed, like the children. The father is the Buddha who finds a
way to deliver us from our predicament through his skill in means
(upaya). Firstly, he offers gifts to get the children out of the house.
Secondly, he offers them their favourite carts to encourage each of
them.
From the perspective of the Lotus Sutra, the inferior carts
represent the early teachings of the Hinayana (lesser vehicle)
which, nevertheless, were a skilful means of getting the Buddha’s
followers to start on the path that leads to nirvana.
The final, best cart that the children find outside the house
represents the higher ideal of perfect Buddhahood, as taught in
this sutra.

Again, we see the emphasis on the practical significance of

teaching in Buddhism. The Lotus Sutra acknowledges that it is
not one’s understanding at the beginning of the journey that
matters, but whether the teacher can skilfully lead his or her
pupils to the appropriate final understanding. Thus this
teaching recognizes that the dharma is understood by various
means and achieved by different strategies. It constitutes a
pragmatic realism that is nevertheless not open ended, but
carefully planned. It allows for a great diversity in the same way
that the branches of Mahayana Buddhism developed without
causing schism. This served the tradition well as it transplanted
itself into the various cultures of China, Tibet and Japan.

The Lotus Sutra is not an easy text to read. It does not have the
strict formulation of the Theravada Scriptures. Rather, it reads
like a mystery play set in a super-mundane world, where the
Lord Buddha reveals the immense span of his existences and the
illusory way in which he appears to enter nirvana, but actually
continues his bodhisattva career endlessly for the salvation of all
beings. He appears in whatever guise is suitable for the
furtherance of his subjects, and offers them teachings and
practices suitable to their capacities. Gone is the austerity of
Theravada practice as a single route to nirvana. The world is a
phantasmagorical place quite beyond the ken of ordinary
mortals.
Emphasis on faith in the Buddha’s authority to release us from
suffering is a key theme. The Buddha states:
I reveal the law in its multifariousness with regard to the
inclinations and dispositions of creatures.

I use different means to raise each according to his own

character. Such is the might of my knowledge.
(Lotus Sutra 2)
And
Hence we will raise many Bodhisattvas by the display of
skilfulness and the encouraging of the wish of obtaining
fruits.
(Lotus Sutra 2)
In his omniscience the Buddha reveals that the destiny of all
creatures is buddhahood - nothing less. The most important
issue is erasing the self-imposed ignorance that blinds beings
from seeing the truth. Even devout Buddhists suffer this
continuing blindness. A constant theme of the Sutra is that
Theravada Buddhists are blinded by their short-sighted
conception of nirvana as the ultimate goal. Arhathood (the
saintly aim of the Theravadins) and Pratyekabuddhahood (the
aim of those who have become enlightened, but who have chosen
not to preach the dharma to others) are indications of this
limited awareness. What has now been revealed is far beyond
their thinking. But the Buddha will, ultimately, lead them to this
recognition.

The Parable of the Rain Cloud expresses this clearly:

Like unto a great cloud the Tathagatha appears and sends
forth his call to the whole world ... lifts his voice and
utters these words: ‘I am the Tathagatha, O ye gods and
men! The Arhat and the perfectly enlightened one; having
reached the shore myself I carry others to the shore .... By
my perfect wisdom I know both this world and the next
as they really are. I am all-knowing, all-seeing ....
 ‘I shall refresh all beings whose bodies are withered, who
73
are clogged in the triple world.’
‘I shall bring to felicity those that are pining away with
toils, give them pleasures and final rest.’
Is
•5
So, it is the very nature of the law to promote the 83.
everlasting weal of the world; by the law the whole world T3
is recreated, and as the plants, when refreshed, expand
0)
their blossoms, the world does the same when refreshed. fi>
3
So then, Kasyapa, is the preaching of the law, like the a

water poured out by the cloud everywhere alike; by which

plants and men thrive, endless and eternal blossoms are
produced.
(Lotus Sutra 5)
The power of this poetic vision of a boundless creative and
benevolent energy, producing creativity and happiness as it
overcomes samsaric conditions by moving the world towards its
final destiny, contrasts with the emphasis of the Theravadin
teachings. Its liberating salvific message became the foundation
of popular Buddhism across Northern Asia.

Pure Land Buddhism

When Buddhism reached China and Japan, two new schools of
thought developed: the Pure Land School and the Ch’an
(Chinese) or Zen (Japanese) School.

The two Sukhavativyuha Sutras, written in the second century

CE, describe a Pure Land (Sukhavati) free from suffering.
Sukhavati is a spiritual realm created by the Buddha, which is
conducive to spiritual progress. It is a state of bliss (sukkha) and
as such is the opposite of the samsaric realm we presently
inhabit, which is marked by the pervasiveness of dukkha
(unsatisfactoriness). The scriptures describe the Pure Land as ‘a
world called Sukhavati where there is neither bodily or mental
pain for living beings. The sources of happiness are
innumerable.’
The Sukhavativyuha Sutras gave rise to a Buddhism of faith
during the fifth and sixth centuries CE in China. It revolved
around the Pure Land of Amitabha (Amida in Japanese) who is
the Buddha of infinite Light and Compassion. To be reborn into
his Pure Land, one only has to call his name ten times at the point
 of death and he will appear and escort his devotee to Sukhavati.
74
Whilst in the present world gaining enlightenment is difficult, in
£> c death one will be helped on the path to that goal.
? a
Is
» (A
This is a Buddhism of Faith, in which the principal means of
(A
salvation is the invocation of the name of the Buddha, which will
O ensure attainment of a state from which there is no falling back.
73
c Its popularity was rooted in its ranking equally with more
o rigorous meditative practices and lifestyles through which
(A
Q) wisdom was accomplished. For many lay Buddhists, especially
3
Cl those whose situations in life and possibilities of education were
limited, this provided a suitable path. It also emphasized the
Mahayanist teaching on the universality of salvation, because
scholarly progress and monasticism were no longer required.

In the modern world this form of Buddhist practice is

particularly stressed by the followers of Nichiren Daishonin, a
Japanese master of the thirteenth century. He regarded the Lotus
Sutra as the supreme teaching of the Buddha, and faith as the
supreme attribute. Faith is increased by daily chanting of the
Gongyo, the fruits of which are more positive energy and a
deeper, more positive outlook as faith thereby increases.
Chanting the mantra ‘Nam-myoho- renge-kyo’ assiduously and
mindfully becomes a practice of purification, which will affect
daily living and develop wisdom and compassion. In his
teachings Nichiren Daishonin stated:

The common mortal himself is the Buddha when he

single-mindedly chants Nam-myoho-renge-kyo with
strong faith. This is how he attains enlightenment
naturally without discarding his life as a common mortal.

(Honninnmyo Sho, quoted in J. Cowan (ed.),

The Buddhism of the Sun, Nichiren Shoshu of the
United Kingdom, 1982, p 78)

‘Nam-myoho-renge-kyo’ is rendered as ‘devotion (nam) to the

Lotus Sutra\ the supreme law or all-embracing truth which, by
implication, is buddhahood itself.

The Ch’an and Zen Schools

Ch’an (Chinese) and Zen (Japanese) are derived from the Indian
word dhyana, which refers to meditation. As Buddhism extended
into China, then Japan, so the meditation school developed from
the teachings and practice of the sixth-century Indian monk,
Bodhidharma. Ironically, Bodhidharma’s message was that the
75
tradition had become too attached to the scriptures, and that the w 00
Buddha’s teaching was understood by simply watching the mind
or looking into one’s own heart (hence the emphasis on 8
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»
w
meditation, seen as a stripping away of external trappings). Such
simplicity of expression was well-suited to a Chinese culture
much influenced by Taoist philosophy, which also emphasised a
one-pointedness of mind, a seeing to the heart of the matter
within our everyday life but beyond our everyday understanding,
as this verse illustrates:

Thirty spokes
Share one hub.

Adapt the nothing therein to the purpose in hand, and you

will have the use of the cart.
Knead clay in order to make a vessel.
Adapt the nothing therein to the purpose in hand, and you
will have the use of the vessel.
Cut out doors and windows in order to make a room.
Adapt the nothing therein to the purpose in hand, and you
will have the use of the room.
Thus what we gain is Something, yet it is by virtue of
Nothing that this can be put to use.

(Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching, Penguin, 1968, p 67)

This represented a rigorous refusal to indulge in scriptural study

or philosophical debate, in favour of a purely intuitive approach
to enlightenment. Though the meditation school appeals to
scripture to ground its practices in the authority of the Buddha,
it does so only to support the efficacy of meditation as an end in
itself, as the truth realized in action.

‘Directly pointing to the mind’ and ‘becoming a Buddha just as

you are’ involves doing away with all thought, which is the
means of attachment to the external world. The effect of this is
to see into one’s own Buddha-nature, which is obscured by
defilements and attachments. Enlightenment may come suddenly
or gradually. Either way, the intuiting of Truth involves the
cultivation of the mind so that it is in sharp focus and constantly
alert. Thus moments of pure awareness (satori) arise. As it
developed, the meditation tradition identified patriarchs,
enlightened teachers who developed their own techniques for
training their pupils and became founders of branches of the
tradition. These techniques were often novel and unorthodox.
 For example, the followers of Lin-Chi used the ‘lightning’
76
method of scolding and beating disciples. Ts’ao-tung masters
w 03
Q. c preferred the question-and-answer method, whereby the disciple
?
S aQ-
would be interviewed by his master to test his capacity to intuit
2. =■
w 55‘ the truth.
(A
O The story of the enlightenment of the sixth patriarch, Hui-Neng,
TJ
Ff
C
illustrates the character of Ch’an teaching well:
i
(A
0) Hui-Neng: The Sixth Patriarch
3
a One day the Fifth Patriarch (Hung-Jen) suddenly called all
his pupils to come to him. As they assembled, he said, ‘Let
me say this to you. Birth and death are serious matters.
You people are engaged all day in making offerings (to the
Buddha), going after blessings and rewards only, and you
make no effort to achieve freedom from the bitter sea of
life and death. Your self-nature seems to be obscured.
How can blessings save you? Go to your rooms and
examine yourselves. He who is enlightened use his perfect
vision of self-nature and write me a verse. When I look at
his verse, if it reveals deep understanding, I shall give him
the robe and the Law and make him the Sixth Patriarch.
Hurry, hurry!’

At midnight Shen-Hsui, holding a candle, wrote a verse on

the wall of the south corridor, without anyone knowing
about it, which said:

Our body is the tree of Perfect Wisdom,

And our mind is a bright mirror.
At all times diligently wipe them,
So that they will be free from dust.

The Fifth Patriarch said: ‘The verse you wrote shows some
but not all understanding. You have arrived at the front of
the door but you have not yet entered it. Ordinary people,
by practising in accordance with your verse, will not
degenerate. But it will be futile to seek the Supreme Perfect
Wisdom while holding to such a view. One must enter the
door and see his self-nature. Go away and come back after
one or two days of thought. If you have entered the door
and seen your self-nature, I shall give you the robe and the
Law.’
 Shen-Hsui went away and for several days could not
produce another verse.

Hui-Neng also wrote a verse ... which said:

The tree of Perfect Wisdom is originally no tree.

Nor has the bright mirror any frame.
Buddha-nature is forever clear and pure.
Where is there any dust?

and another verse:

The mind is the tree of Perfect Wisdom.

The body is the clear mirror.
The clear mirror is originally clear and pure.
Where has it been affected by any dust?

Monks in the hall were all surprised at these verses. Hui-

Neng, however, went back to the rice-pounding room.
The Fifth Patriarch suddenly realized that Hui-Neng was
the one of good knowledge but was afraid lest the rest
learn it. He therefore told them: ‘This will not do.’

The Fifth Patriarch waited till midnight, called Hui-Neng

to come to the hall, and expounded the Diamond Sutra.
As soon as Hui-Neng heard this, he understood. That
night the Law was imparted to him without anyone
knowing it, and thus the Law and the robe of Sudden
Enlightenment were transmitted to him. ‘You are now the
Sixth Patriarch,’ said the Fifth Patriarch to Hui-Neng.
‘The robe is the testimony of transmission from
generation to generation. As to the Law, it is to be
transmitted from mind to mind. Let people achieve
understanding through their own effort.’

(Wm. Theodore De Barry (ed.), Sources of Chinese

Tradition, Columbia University Press, 1960, p 350)
Characteristic of Zen is the refusal to give ‘right answers’, as
though truth can be passed on just by hearing or reading a
teaching. The master’s skill lies in knowing exactly what the
disciple requires to free his mind from attachment. Attachment
may come in many forms and the mind can be freed from
particular attachments in many ways. Zen stories (mondos)
catalogue this highly practical method of teaching.
Here are two examples:

A Cup of Tea
Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era
(1868-1912), received a university professor who came to
inquire about Zen. Nan-in served tea. He poured his
visitor’s cup full, and then kept on pouring. The professor
watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain
himself. ‘It is overfull. No more will go in!’ ‘Like this cup,’
Nan-in said, ‘you are full of your own opinions and
speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first
empty your cup?’
(P. Reps, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, Pelican, 1972, p 17)

Happy Chinaman
Anyone walking about Chinatowns in America will
observe statues of a stout fellow carrying a linen sack.
Chinese merchants call him Happy Chinaman or
Laughing Buddha.

This Hotei lived in the T’ang dynasty. He had no desire to

call himself a Zen master or to gather many disciples
about him. Instead he walked the streets with a big sack
into which he would put gifts of candy, fruit, or
doughnuts. These he would give to children who gathered
around him in play. He established a kindergarten of the
streets.

Whenever he met a Zen devotee he would extend his hand

and say, ‘Give me one penny.’ And if anyone asked him to
return to a temple to teach others, again he would reply:
‘Give me one penny.’

Once as he was about his play-work another Zen master

happened along and inquired: ‘What is the significance of
Zen?’

Hotei immediately plopped his sack down on the ground

in silent answer.

‘Then,’ asked the other, ‘what is the actualization of Zen?’

At once the Happy Chinaman swung the sack over his

shoulder and continued on his way.
(P. Reps, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, Pelican, 1972, p 27)
The following story illustrates a particularly famous Zen
technique, know as the koan, which is used to stop the
discriminating mind with its reliance on intellectual
understanding.

The Sound of One Hand

The master of Kennin temple was Mokurai, Silent
Thunder. He had a little protege named Toyo who was
only twelve years old. Toyo saw the older disciples visit
the master’s room each morning and evening to receive
instructions in sanzen, or personal guidance, in which they
were given koans to stop mind-wandering.

Toyo wished to do sanzen also. ‘Wait a while,’ said

Mokurai. ‘You are too young.’

But the child insisted, so the teacher finally consented.

In the evening little Toyo went at the proper time to the

threshold of Mokurai’s sanzen room. He struck the gong
to announce his presence, bowed respectfully three times
outside the door, and went to sit before the master in
respectful silence.
‘You can hear the sound of two hands when they clap
together,’ said Mokurai. ‘Now show me the sound of one
hand.’
Toyo bowed and went to his room to consider this
problem. From his window he could hear the music of the
geishas. ‘Ah, I have it!’ he proclaimed.

The next evening, when his teacher asked him to illustrate

the sound of one hand, Toyo began to play the music of
the geishas.

‘No, no,’ said Mokurai. ‘That will never do. That is not
the sound of one hand. You’ve not got it at all.’

Thinking that such music might interrupt, Toyo moved his

abode to a quiet place. He meditated again. ‘What can the
sound of one hand be?’ He happened to hear some water
dripping. ‘I have it,’ imagined Toyo.

When he next appeared before his teacher, Toyo imitated

dripping water.
‘What is that?’ asked Mokurai. ‘That is the sound of
dripping water, but not the sound of one hand. Try again.’
 In vain Toyo meditated to hear the sound of one hand. He
80
heard the sighing of the wind. But the sound was rejected.
9. c He heard the cry of an owl. This also was refused. The
I?
o aft.
sound of one hand was not the locusts.
2. a1
o» 55'
For more than ten times Toyo visited Mokurai with
different sounds. All were wrong. For almost a year he
pondered what the sound of one hand might be.

At last little Toyo entered true meditation and transcended

all sounds. ‘I could collect no more,’ he explained later, ‘so
I reached the soundless sound.’

Toyo had realized the sound of one hand.

(P. Reps, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, Pelican, 1972, pp 34-35)

Rinzai and Soto Zen

The branches into which Zen split, the Rinzai and Soto Zen,
emphasized the koan and silent sitting respectively, as techniques
for attaining this ‘pure seeing’ into the true nature of things.
Nevertheless, these two schools are not entirely distinct in their
practices. As one writer has observed:

In the Rinzai sect we find the dynamic character of the

daring koan experiment and of lightning-like
enlightenment, while the Soto School is characterized by a
preference for silent sitting in zazen and the quiet deeds of
everyday life ... It appears (in Japan) ... that adherence to
one sect or the other is determined largely by the spiritual
bent of the monks, who are inherently suited to one
tradition or the other and pursue enlightenment in a way
appropriate to their character. Thus one can find in the
temples of the Soto sect men of brilliant wit and dynamic
character who devote themselves to the koan exercises,
while on the other hand certain Rinzai monks of subdued
character can scarcely be distinguished from Soto
disciples.

(N. Wilson Ross, Hinduism, Buddhism, Zen,

faber & faber, 1973, p 156)

Zen cultural life

Japanese culture has been greatly influenced by Zen Buddhism.
Its techniques pervade such arts and skills as flower arranging
and archery, as well as being the foundation of traditional
ceremonies, most famously the Tea Ceremony. In literature it
81
gave birth to the haiku, the seventeen-syllable poem that points
to the Buddha-nature, or pure-reality, being everywhere in the Q. c
here and now. It illustrates the typically Zen emphasis on the 2. :x
w 55'
paradox that the everyday and the wonder of enlightenment are
but one and the same thing:
How marvellous, how miraculous,
I draw water
I carry fuel.

The Tibetan Scriptures

Buddhism entered Tibet around 650 CE, but it was not until a
century later that it overcame fierce resistance from the
indigenous Bon religion, with its shamanic heritage and
patronage of the Tibetan nobility. As so often with religious
incursion, it was the support of rulership that caused changes in
fortune. This was true of the spread of Christianity within the
Roman world, under the reign of the emperor Constantine, and
the proliferation of Buddhism in India under the emperor
Ashoka. So in Tibet, once patronage moved from Bon to
Buddhism, it flourished under the reign of Ral-pa-can (817-36
CE). Monasteries and temples were erected, and teachers were
brought from India, which propagated the translation of the
scriptures.
The relationship with the Bon tradition was not wholly one of
animosity, and Padmasambhava, one of the most revered of
Tibetan saints, did much as an Indian missionary to realign
hostile forces, through his particular interpretation of practices
and teachings. Buddhism also entered Tibet from China, though
its impact was less successful; the character of Tibetan Buddhism
illustrates Indian influence rather than Chinese.

It should also be noted that relations between Tibet and China

have generally been full of unease, due to both Tibetan and
Chinese imperialism, which has resurfaced today in the annexing
of Tibet and the exile of the Dalai Lama, Head of both Church
and State in Tibet.
Tibet has largely been isolated as a kingdom and culture over the
majority of its history, and this has been both a blessing and a
curse from the Buddhist point of view. The blessing is that it was
able to preserve and develop the Mahayana teachings in a
 distinctive way over 1,000 years, with little interference. Indeed,
82
it became recognized as a secret kingdom, seen as the repository
8g of Buddhist wisdom by many Westerners, and this was the
fa
© =r
subject of various forms of pilgrimage in the early part of the
w o5' twentieth century. Westerners who came to Tibet included
Heinrich Harrer, the German prisoner of war who wrote Seven
Years in Tibet; Alexandra David-Neel, who wrote With Mystics
and Magicians in Tibet and W.Y. Evans-Wentz who translated
The Tibetan Book of the Dead.
The drawback was that such distinctive and ancient teachings as
Tibet possessed (along with the traditions and schools which
progressed from them) did not become known to the outside
world until the Chinese invasion in 1959, and the subsequent
dispersion of lamas and teachers to India and the West. Today
there are Western scholars working with Tibetan teachers to make
known the teachings and practices which had been preserved in
Tibet, and Tibetan teachers and their disciples are at the head of
evolving traditions in the West.

There are four main Tibetan traditions alive today: the Nyingma,
Kagya, Sakya and Geluk, each of which possess a wealth of oral
and written teachings. The scriptures are classified under the
following titles: The Kangyur, meaning ‘the translation of the
word’, which are discourses attributed to the historical Buddha;
and the Tengyur, which are the sbastras (commentaries on the
original teachings, translated from Indian originals). In addition
to these, numerous explanatory works were written in Tibetan.

The importance of Tibetan Buddhism and its scriptures is not so

much that it is specifically Tibetan, but that a great deal of the
corpus of Mahayana Buddhist literature, and the maintenance of
its tradition, would not have survived had it not been harboured
in Tibet.

Tibetan scriptures and practices can appear obscure to

uninitiated Westerners; this is not surprising given Tibet’s
isolated history. But one of the principal emphases that underlies
its tradition is the need to learn from an enlightened teacher. As
one western Tibetan Buddhist writes:

Lost in the middle of a dense, dark forest, drowning in a wild

and savage sea, locked in chains in a lonely dungeon, we rely
on the wisdom, power and compassion of those who can set
us free. To escape from the stifling darkness of ignorance,
from the raging tides of the delusions, from the iron chains
of karma, we must turn to an enlightened guide. Since we
 need a qualified teacher to learn such simple skills as
83
reading, writing and mathematics, how can we think to
« oo
travel the long and difficult path of Dharma alone? It is £> C
3-
absolutely essential to follow a spiritual master who has S2. O-
3-
w co¬
passed that way himself. Finding the right spiritual master is
co
the most important thing in life; following him correctly is o
■6'
“I

the root of the path to enlightenment. ft

c
(Nicholas Ribush, ‘A Profile of Tibetan Buddhism’, in CD
CO
P. Connolly and C. Erricker, The Presence and Practice 0)
3
of Buddhism, West Sussex Institute of a

FFigher Education, 1985, p 72)

Another preoccupation of Tibetan teaching is the relationship

between life and death. This arises mainly due to the significance
of tantric teaching in Tibetan tradition. Tantra represents the
quick path to enlightenment in one lifetime, by grasping the
opportunity of a human birth not to be wasted. It also stresses
the importance of confronting our negative impulses and fears
during this rebirth. Death is seen as the ultimate fear or barrier,
because it represents an annihilation of our identity (as we
perceive it). The Tibetan Book of the Dead attains an especial
importance, since it deals with how to find our way through the
period between death and rebirth. This concept is referred to as
the ‘Art of Dying’, which is seen as the most significant liberating
experience in Tibetan Buddhist terms.

The Tibetans understand there to be a state between dying and

being reborn, referred to as the bar do state. During this time the
individual will follow a course that leads to liberation or a
consequent rebirth according to his or her attachments. This
journey is dependent on our last thoughts in our present life, and
the course that they initiate, rather like a train of thought that is
pursued, from its inception in thinking about either positive or
negative impulses (for example, a day when we wake up with a
negative or positive frame of mind). It is claimed that reading
The Tibetan Book of the Dead to a dying person will initiate
them into the process of dying in a positive frame of mind, and
therefore ensure either a positive rebirth or freedom from rebirth
entirely. Aldous Huxley is one Westerner who adhered to this
philosophy and followed its practice, despite the adverse
criticism that ensued from the American press and subsequent
biographies.
The Buddhist rationale for such a practice is that our past
thinking has determined our present status, and our present
thinking will determine our future status. This is rooted in
scriptural understanding and the significance of karmic
influence. What The Tibetan Book of the Dead (Bardo Thodol)
points to is the most significant event in our lives - our own
demise - for which we have a whole lifetime either to prepare for
or to ignore. It indicates the importance of preparation for the
ultimate test of our earthly achievement, when all else that we
rely on has passed: status, reputation and other worldly
successes. We are left only with our own mind, naked and
unprotected. At this point the practice of the teaching bears fruit:

O now when the Dhyana Bardo upon me is dawning!

Abandoning the whole mass of distractions and illusions,
May the mind be kept in the mood of endless undistracted
Samadhi,
May firmness both in the visualizing and in the perfected
stages be obtained:
At this time, when meditating one-pointedly, with all other
actions put aside,
May I not fall under the power of misleading, stupifying
passions.

(W.Y. Evans-Wentz, The Tibetan Book of the Dead,

Oxford University Press, 1960, p 203)
In this chapter you will learn:
• about different kinds of
Buddhist pratice - meditation
or mental training
• about how some practices
are devotional, and others not.
Once, when talking to a friend about the possibility of him
moving to a new place and starting a new business, I asked him
whether he thought it would be good for him to make a fresh
start. He replied that he had done enough travelling in his life to
know that wherever you go, deep down there is no such thing as
a fresh start: you take yourself and your hang-ups with you. I
was looking on the outside and he was looking on the inside. My
understanding of the situation was relatively superficial; his was
much more profound.
Most of the time we think of the world being outside ourselves.
This is the place where our actions have their effect and changes
occur. If we want the world to be a better place, we have to
influence it in a moral way, to create greater harmony and better
communication. For Buddhists, like everyone else, this is a
worthy goal; the question is, how do we achieve it? For followers
of a monotheistic faith, such as Christianity, Judaism or Islam,
the spiritual power for change comes from God through prayer.
For Buddhists it occurs through training the mind, and
recognizing our true nature.

Training the mind

However, to understand this Buddhist notion of self¬
transformation, our conception of ‘mind’ has to be freed from its
Western connotations. Within Indian tradition, ‘mind’ and
‘heart’ are both aspects of consciousness, and the practice of
meditation, with its yogic origins, both presumes this and is the
way to realizing it:

The Buddha’s path is simple and meant for ordinary

people, and anyone with goodwill and determination can
follow its steps toward freedom of heart and mind. Both
heart and mind have to be involved in this journey toward
liberation from the ‘self’. The mind understands and
concludes, connects and discerns, whereas the heart feels.

(Ayya Khema, Being Nobody, Going Nowhere,

Wisdom Publications, 1987, preface)

For this reason, the words heart and mind are often used
interchangeably to refer to our inner world, which we need to
purify through the cultivation of mindfulness. The Buddha said:
 ‘O Bhikkhus, there are two kinds of illness. What are these
two? Physical illness and mental illness. There seem to be
people who enjoy freedom from physical illness even for a
year or two ... even for a hundred years or more. But, O
Bhikkhus, rare in this world are those who enjoy freedom
from mental illness even for one moment, except those
who are free from mental defilements.
(Anguttara Nikaya (ed.), Devamitta Thera, Colombo,
1929, p 276)
Here mental illness is not contrasted with an ordinary or
‘normal’ state of mind, but with the perfectly healthy or pure
mind of one who has overcome suffering and dis-ease (an
arahant). Mental defilements, which prevent this liberation, are
not simply clinical conditions, but the result of a mind that is
untrained and unrestrained, not functioning according to its true
nature and therefore preventing happiness, contentment,
tranquillity. This training of the mind is referred to in one famous
Zen text as The Taming of the Bull. It begins with The Search for
the Bull:

In the pasture of this world, I endlessly push aside the tall

grasses in search of the bull.
Following unnamed rivers, lost upon the interpenetrating
paths of distant mountains,
My strength failing and my vitality exhausted, I cannot
find the bull.
I only hear the locusts chirring through the forest at night.

Following the verse is a comment:

The bull has been lost. What need is there to search? Only
because of separation from my true nature, I fail to find
him. In the confusion of the senses I lose even his tracks.
Far from home, I see many crossroads, but which way is
the right one I know not. Greed and fear, good and bad,
entangle me.

(P. Reps, Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, Penguin, 1972, p 138)

Eventually the bull is tamed, and it is realized that it was nothing

more than the restless activity of the ‘self’. With the self now
eradicated, Wisdom and Compassion arise, and attachment
ceases:
 Barefoot and naked of breast, I mingle with the people of
the world.
My clothes are ragged and dust-laden and I am ever-
blissful.
I use no magic to extend my life;
Now, before me, the trees become alive.
(ibid., p 147)

Ethical considerations are also integral to the attainment of this

healthy state, since a healthy or pure mind functions according to
selfless motivation, rather than through the pursuit of egotistical
goals. When we put these aspects of the Buddhist analysis of mind
together, we find they are summed up in the Eightfold Path:
Wisdom, Morality and Mental Discipline. Bhavana (mental
development) or meditation is the basis of living a Buddhist way
of life.

Mindfulness and concentration

Ayya Khema, a Buddhist nun, writes:
During meditation we learn to drop from the mind what
we don’t want to keep. We only want to keep in mind our
meditation subject. As we become more and more skilled
at it, we start to use the same faculty in our daily lives to
help us drop those thoughts which are unwholesome. In
this way our meditation practice assists us in daily living
and our attention to wholesome thoughts in everyday life
helps our meditation practice. The person who becomes
master of his or her own thoughts and learns to think
what they want to think is called an Arahant, an
Enlightened One.
(Ayya Khema, Being Nobody, Going Nowhere,
Wisdom Publications, 1987, p 11)

Formal meditation practice is like exercising the mind in the

same way as we might exercise the body - in order to keep it fit
and healthy, and to improve its function for a specific purpose.
The basic function of the mind is concentration. Right
Concentration is the eighth step of the Path, but this does not
mean it is the one which comes last. Rather, we have to think of
the eight steps as the development of skilfulness in eight aspects
which go hand in hand, like a progressive and interdependent
evolution. Most importantly, without Right Concentration,
Right Mindfulness is unattainable. Thus basic exercises of
concentration are the foundation of meditation. But
concentration on what? The most widely used traditional
practice is called mindfulness of, or concentration on, breathing
(anapanasati).

Mindfulness of the breath

The breath is a good focus for such a meditational exercise
because it is neutral. As a bodily function it usually escapes our
attention, since it does not give rise to pleasant or unpleasant
sensations, nor does it excite the mind. Because we take it for
granted we also overlook its significance, in much the same way
as we do with a life-giving substance like water. Yet it is the basis
of life. Equally, its relationship with the mind is direct in a
physiological and emotional sense. Breath provides oxygen,
through which the mind functions. In a state of excitement we
breathe fast; in a state of calm and tranquillity we breathe slowly.
The breath is therefore an indicator of our mental state.

We can concentrate on the breath at various points: as it goes

into and exits from the body, by concentrating on the sensation
of it passing through the nostrils; by following its passage down
to and returning from the abdomen; by accompanying each
breath cycle with a word, such as ‘Buddho’ (a reminder of the
relationship between concentration and enlightenment); by
counting breaths, one on the in-breath, two on the out-breath,
and so on up to ten.
The point is to know when concentration is focused and refined,
and when the mind wanders and concentration is lost. It is
important to make the distinction between the discipline of
concentration and ‘just thinking about something’. When the
mind wanders, thoughts are arising but we are not aware of
them. Concentration is a full awareness of exactly what is
happening here and now, which is why it requires a discipline
that thinking alone does not possess. To start with, counting is a
good way to ensure you obey this distinction. If the mind
wanders you may forget to count altogether, or count beyond the
number at which you should return to one. Realizing you have
done this is evidence of the mind having wandered. As the
practice progresses, concentration should increase. It is then you
begin to realize how subtle concentration can be, and how easily
it can be lost. You will also realize how an excited mind finds it
difficult to concentrate, and strays to objects of desire, or
becomes distracted by dominant feelings. This is the learning
process of meditation, which can be both frustrating and
irritating. Feelings arise which are distracting, and which give
rise to impatience, anger and frustration. The most simple
exercise can be a humbling experience. After all, if this simple
activity presents problems in a relaxed environment, how much
more difficult would concentration be in the more rapid and
distracting context of our everyday life?
With increasing concentration the mind becomes more tranquil,
and its activity diminishes. In a state of pure calm, an awareness
arises of the present moment that is undisturbed, and with it
arises a moment of bliss, a lack of anxiety. When the mind is in
this state, its energy is available for the purposes for which we
choose to use it, unhampered by negative feelings.
Ayya Khema describes such a condition in this way:
Once verbalization stops for a moment, not only is there
quiet but there is a feeling of contentment. The mind has
at last found its home. We wouldn’t be very happy if we
didn’t have a home for this body of ours. We are equally
not very happy if we haven’t got a home for the mind.
That quiet, peaceful space is the mind’s home. It can go
home and relax just as we do after a day’s work when we
relax the body in an easy chair and at night in bed. Now
the mind, too, can take it easy. It doesn’t have to think.
Thinking is suffering, no matter what it is that we think.
There is movement in it and because of that there is
friction. Everything that moves creates friction.
The moment we relax and rest the mind it gains new
strength and also happiness because it knows it can go
home at any time. The happiness created at the time of
meditation carries through to daily living because the
mind knows that nothing has to be taken so seriously that
it can’t go home again and find peace and quiet.
(ibid., pp 13-14)

Calm and insight

Insight is the goal; calm is the means. Many images have been
used to illustrate this. One is of the sea, both in its calm state and
in a storm. The calm sea is tranquil and serene, not only in itself,
but in the effect it has upon us. Similarly, waves, foam and the
sea’s roar in a storm are exciting, powerful and fearful. The calm
sea is like the calm mind. The stormy sea is a mind in turmoil.
When the sea is calm we can see through it, but in its rough state,
nothing below the surface can be seen. This ability to see below
the surface is insight. We see with clarity and penetration. There
is a picture by the Japanese artist Hokusai, called The Waves at
Kanagawa. It depicts figures in small boats confronted by a huge
wave, its aggressive shape about to bear down on them. They are
cowering on the deck in fear. In the distance, unnoticed, and
difficult to pick out in the picture, is Mount Fuji, the symbol of
enlightenment in Japanese Buddhism. Its snow-capped peak
resembles the waves that frame it. Reading this picture, like a
Zen mondo, or story, the figures confronted with their fear of the
wave and their death are forgetful of the path to enlightenment.
Their mindfulness is distracted by the sensations of the moment.
The wave may represent any fearful circumstance we face, but
the message is clear. Without preparing for such moments in our
life - even death itself - we shall be lost in samsara when they
come. Insight is the antidote to such situations, and meditation is
the way to cultivate it.

The Waves at Kanagawa, Hokusai

Meditational techniques
Accordingly, meditational techniques are divided into two types:
samatha, which means calm; and vipassana, which means
insight. Insight means knowing what is really happening in our
minds and in our relations with others, and doing our best to
create a harmonious situation in every circumstance. The
significance of insight may best be described by showing how it
can be obscured by negative feelings arising in the present
moment. I come to each situation in a particular state of mind.
Sometimes, when depressed, sad or sorrowful, I greet people in
this particular state, and it colours my impression of them and
the way I feel about them. This is essentially a preoccupation
with myself that interferes with my concern for others and their
well-being, but I say, ‘I cannot help it.’ Such states can be self-
perpetuating and gather momentum. In my morose condition,
the happy person is someone to be envied. I cannot share in their
happiness and, inevitably, this shows. Then I complain about
losing friends or not being wanted, and the downward spiral
continues. If someone says, ‘cheer up’, or, ‘it is not as bad as it
seems’, I feel even worse! Insight is the recognition of what is
going on in our minds when these feelings arise, so that we may
prevent ourselves from slipping back into similar mental habits
time and time again. Mindfulness creates the opportunity to
change these habits, by letting go of our attachment to them.

The first step on this path is to recognize such thoughts and

feelings as delusion. Not because they do not exist, but because
they do not constitute our ‘selves’. They are not ‘me’, but
phenomena which arise and pass away. This is the truth of
impermanence that vipassana meditation makes clear. Nothing
abides, nothing has to be held onto. Without this awareness the
mind manipulates us, like a magician, into believing the illusions
that our thoughts convey; these illusions in turn cause us distress
and separate us from others.

For this reason, every sensation is a matter for awareness: those

of the body, and feelings and thoughts. The contemplation of the
six elements is an example of this reflection on impermanence.

The contemplation of the six elements

One considers the solid matter of the body: bones, hair, skin,
nails, flesh and so on. These are the earth elements. When one
dies they return to the earth elements in the universe. They are
only borrowed, not one’s own.

One considers the liquid elements in the body: blood, phlegm,

bile and other secretions. These are the water elements. One
therefore reflects, they too are not one’s own.
One considers the fire element within the body: heat and energy.

One considers the air element: breath and wind.

These elements are also borrowed and will return. They are not
one’s own.

One considers that the space the body occupies will also be
surrendered at death.

Lastly, even individual consciousness will also have to be given

up at death. Each of the six elements that make up the body
(earth, water, fire, air, space and consciousness) are not
permanent and abiding as one’s own body. Upon recognition of
this, attachment to one’s own body will slip away as insight
increases.

Similar reflections on feelings, mind and other objects are used to

the same effect; not as a means of morose introspection, but to
remove attachment to that which is not abiding and
untrustworthy - and, therefore, ultimately, the cause of sorrow,
delusion and self-concern. As this decreases, so one’s burden is
lightened and Right Understanding increases.

Metta
Another important Buddhist teaching is that one should be a
blessing to the world. There is a Zen picture of a bodhisattva,
who wanders with his staff visiting villages, depicted standing,
smiling with children around him. The legend that accompanies
the picture explains that he enters the village with bliss-
bestowing hands. This expresses the purpose of what is aspired
to in the Buddhist life.
Metta is the word that sums up this state of being. The Metta-
sutta, the teaching on universal love or loving-kindness,
proclaims that:

Whatever beings there may be - feeble or strong, long (or

tall), stout or medium or short, small or large, seen or
unseen, those dwelling far or near, those who are born and
those who are yet to be born - may all beings, without
exception, be happy-minded.

Mettabhavana
This undiscriminating attitude is cultivated in a popular
meditation (mettabhavana). It consists of five stages. In the first,
one generates metta for oneself. (This is not a self-love in the
sense of self-appreciation as a special person, above others, but a
 recognition of one’s capacity to be loving to others and loveable.)
94
At this stage one repeats: ‘May I be well, may I be happy, may I
progress.’ In the second stage the feeling is extended to a friend.
In the third stage to a neutral person. In the fourth to someone
towards whom you have antipathy. In the fifth you see all these
together, and then visualize the whole world of living beings and
extend metta to all of them.
Thus, what appears at first to be an easy practice becomes
progressively more difficult, proceeding through the stages: it
confronts limitations rather than indulging preferences. As such,
it also distinguishes between the notion of love which we may
find appealing, and that which is demanded of us. The highest
cn aspiration mentioned in the teaching on loving kindness is that
one should love all beings just as a mother loves her child, or,
alternatively, that one should see all beings as having been, at one
time, one’s mother. It is not a soft option, and requires much
work in the training of the heart. Most importantly, it is a
progressive insight into the true meaning of love and the
demands which that makes. It is the path to compassion, which
is often spoken of as consisting of three grades. The first grade
consists of goodwill towards others. The second is friendship.
The third stage, metta itself, lies beyond these and is not just an
emotion but a developed skill, which progressively exposes our
own weakness and vulnerability. It also has its benefits, of
course. If we offer goodwill, friendship or love to others, they
will feel attracted to us. But love is given not because we want to
give something, or because they need it, but because the heart has
been trained to do it. In other words, in time, it becomes a
spontaneous giving rather than a difficulty. The formal practice
of mettabhavana is a training for our motivation in ordinary
circumstances: at home, at work and in the supermarket.

Visualization
The skill of visualization is a way both of concentrating the mind
and of developing the quality of compassion. One Buddhist
writer explains:

For our efforts at the spiritual life to be crowned with

success not only do we need to be intellectually convinced
by Buddhism, but we also need to find it emotionally
attractive. We need both Truth and Beauty. Images,
especially beautiful images, involve our emotions in the
spiritual life and thereby make it possible for us actually
to live it.

(FWBO Newsletter, No. 56, 1982, p 12)

Visualization is not just a development of our imagination, but a
focusing of our inherent qualities for transforming ourselves and
the world, through ‘seeing with the mind’s eye’. It emancipates us
from the effect of negative emotions, thus enabling us to respond
more effectively to difficult situations that we encounter.
Essentially, it means that by visualizing the form of a bodhisattva
(a being with higher qualities), we let go of our egotistical desires
and our selfhood, and are therefore able to act in the world in a
more beneficial way.

This example shows the process by which it can occur. The focus
of the visualization is Kuan Yin, the Chinese form of the
Bodhisattva of Compassion.

Kuan Yin

You sit down on a hill top, or anywhere high enough for

you to see nothing but the sky in front of your eyes

With your mind you make everything empty.

There is nothing there you say.

And you see it like that - nothing
emptiness.
Then you say ahhh...
But there is something!
Look there’s the sea
and the MOON has risen
full, round, white.
And you see it like that
sea, silver in the moonlight
with little white topped waves.
And in the blue black sky above
hangs a great moon
bright,
but not dazzling,
a soft brightness you might say.

You stare at the moon a long

long time, feeling calm, happy.
Then the moon gets smaller,
but brighter and brighter and brighter
till you see it as a pearl, or a seed, but not so bright
you can only just bear to look at it.

The pearl starts to grow.

And before you know what’s happened,
it’s Kuan Yin (the Mother of Compassion) herself
standing up against the sky
all dressed in gleaming white
and with her feet resting on a lotus
that floats on the waves.

You see her

once you know how to do it
as clearly as I see you.
For her robes are shining,
and there’s a halo round her head.
She smiles at you,
such a loving smile. She’s so glad
to see you that tears of happiness sparkle in her eyes.

If you keep your mind calm,

by just whispering her name
and not trying too hard
she will stay a long time.
 When she does go,
it’s by getting smaller and smaller.
She doesn’t go back to being a pearl,
but just gets so small
that at last you can’t see her, then you notice
that the sky and the sea
have vanished too.
Just space is left.
Lovely, lovely space, going on forever ...

That space stays long

if you can do without you. Not you and space, you see

just space.

No you!
(Copyright Joel and Michelle Levey. Reprinted from
The Tine Arts of Relaxation, Concentration &
Meditation with permission of Wisdom Publications, 361
Newbury Street, Boston, Massachusetts, USA.)

Bowing to the Buddha

It is commonly assumed that Buddhism has nothing to do with
devotion because it is concerned with self-transformation. It is
also assumed that devotion presumes an outside power or agency
to which we submit. For these reasons, Buddhist ritual appears
anachronistic. Yet there is no more pervasive devotional action
performed by Buddhists than bowing, which is apparently an act
of worship and submission. What lies behind this activity?

Buddhists participate in pujas, which is an Indian word for

formal worship. It is rather like Christians attending a church
service. When Buddhists enter a temple or shrine room in which
an image of a buddha is installed, they may go before the image,
kneel down and bow three times so that their forehead touches
the floor. This is a very formal action. The three bows represent
the Buddha, dhamma and sangha.

Tibetan Buddhists often prostrate themselves (an extension of

bowing), by lying full length on the floor with the head pointing
towards the image. There is no denying that this is an act of
devotion, but it is not to be confused with worship shown
towards God. Such a ritual (rather like the act of offering
flowers, candles and incense which are traditional Buddhist
offerings) acts as a reminder of commitment to an ideal, and a
way of bringing oneself closer to that ideal. The whole person
has to be engaged in this act of transformation and piety.
Expressed in these forms, bowing is a means to this
transformation, just as much as solitary meditation and ethical
action in the world. Mindfulness is cultivated by expression of
devotion as much as by these other activities. It forms part of the
training of the heart, in which the emotions are touched, and the
development of qualities like humility, upon which the aspiration
to buddhahood and a better life depend. When Buddhists bow or
make offerings, they should genuinely recognize that they aspire
to progress by recognizing that the ideal lies beyond them in the
present, but that it is attainable. Acts of devotion express a
determination to develop the qualities embodied by the
venerated image. The offerings of candles, flowers and incense
express gratitude and reverence but do not imply ‘otherness’ (in
the sense of Christian devotion to an Almighty but essentially
distinct God). Flowers are a reminder of beauty and
impermanence. The candles are a reminder of the light of the
dhamma in the darkness of ignorance. The fragrance of incense
is a reminder of the blessing of compassionate service.

Tibetan women showing devotion before the Temple at Dharamsala, India

(copyright Peter Gold; photograph reproduced from Tibetan Reflections
with permission of Wisdom Publications, 361 Newbury Street, Boston,
Massachusetts, USA)
In pujas, these offerings are accompanied by chanting, which
recollects the meaning and purpose of the devotion. Here are two
examples. The first is from the Thai Forest Retreat Order,
established in England by Ajahn Chah, the Thai meditation
master:

To the Blessed One, the Lord who fully attained perfect

enlightenment,
To the Teaching which he expounded so well,
And to the Blessed One’s disciples, who have practised well,
To these - the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha -
We render with offerings our rightful homage.
It is well for us, Blessed One, that having attained
liberation,
You still had compassion for later generations.
Deign to accept these simple offerings
For our long-lasting benefit and for the happiness it gives
us.
The Lord, the Perfectly Enlightened and Blessed One -
I render homage to the Buddha, the Blessed One.

(.Amaravati Chanting Book, Amaravati Publications,

1987, p 9)
The second is from the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order
Puja:

Offerings to the Buddha.

Reverencing the Buddha, we offer flowers -
Flowers that today are fresh and sweetly blooming,
Flowers that tomorrow are faded and fallen.
Our bodies too, like flowers, will pass away.
Reverencing the Buddha, we offer candles.
To Him, who is the Light, we offer light.
From His greater lamp a lesser lamp we light within us:
The lamp of Bodhi shining within our hearts.
Reverencing the Buddha, we offer incense,
Incense whose fragrance pervades the air.
The fragrance of the perfect life, sweeter than incense,
Spreads in all directions throughout the world.
(The FWBO Puja Book, Windhorse Publications, 1984)

Bowing to the Buddha, making offerings and chanting constitute

the three main acts of Buddhist devotion, or puja ceremonies.
They take place before a shrine - which may vary in style
according to the branch of the tradition, but the intention is
always the same. This quotation, taken from the short ceremony
for the dedication of a shrine room in the Friends of the Western
Buddhist Order (a Western Buddhist movement), succinctly sums
up the purpose of shrine room and ceremony:

Here seated, here practising,

May our mind become Buddha,
May our thought become Dharma,
May our communication with one another be Sangha.

(The FWBO Fuja Book, Windhorse Publications, 1984)

So we may conclude that mind and heart, meditation and

devotion, are complementary aspects of the same training in
bhavana, or mental development. This training is essentially
practical, not simply intellectual or ethereal. It is creative in that
it aims to ensure a better world through self-transformation and,
ultimately, the transformation of the world itself.
ethical conduct

In this chapter you will learn:

• about Buddhist ethics, which
are related to the
practicalities of everyday life
• about the relationship
between morality and self¬
development from a Buddhist
perspective.
Sila and skilfulness
Sila is the Buddhist term for ethical or moral behaviour, which is
summed up in the three connected ethical steps of the Eightfold
Path (Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, referred to
in Chapter 3). At the same time, an emphasis on living well
pervades Buddhist teaching and practice. This is expressed in an
obvious way, in the precepts which provide everyday guidance in
a simple form (simple to remember, that is, rather than simple to
keep). But in order to keep the precepts successfully, Buddhists
recognize the need for sustained development in themselves. We
could say that the precepts provide a practical framework, for us
to be guided by in our everyday activity, but the intention is to
try to keep them. This intention and effort are all important,
otherwise no progress can be made. Behind the precepts
encompassing them is the Eightfold Path, which informs
Buddhists as to how this can be achieved. Bhavana, or mental
development, is what lies beneath the surface, what is happening
within the person that creates this possibility. The aspiration at
the heart of this is skilfulness, its effect in the world and on
others, is the cultivation of happiness and harmony.

Perhaps we can best illustrate this by returning to the physician

or doctor analogy that was applied by the Buddha himself. First,
there is the problem: we do not achieve in life what we wish to
achieve. Our aspirations towards happiness are not fulfilled.
Why is this? The prescription is that we have to reflect carefully
on how we can best achieve what it is that we seek, and why we
seek it. This, however, turns out to be a long-term task. It
involves recognizing why we suffer the dissatisfaction we
experience, and, in the course of this, through meditation and
mindfulness, how we can alter our way of responding to life
(which, at root, means recognizing that what we think and do
isn’t necessarily good for us or anyone else). Here the doctor
prescribes a sustained programme that should result in a cure for
the illness. This is laid out in the Eightfold Path. At the same
time, we need some everyday guidance as to what we should and
should not do; some rules to try to keep that will be easy to
remember to keep us on track in the hurly-burly of our life, when
our desires are likely to be least restrained. This is the purpose of
the precepts. Similarly, the good doctor will be concerned with
the root causes of our lack of health, and give us a checklist of
things to do and not to do day by day. These two aspects of
treating the situation go hand in hand, complementing each
other. But it would be a mistake to think we could just try and
follow the rules and everything would be sorted out.
Let us take a specific example. I hurt my leg badly, sustaining an
injury that will take quite a while to mend. The rules are to rest,
not do anything that will hamper recovery such as twisting,
bending or running. At the same time, my leg will lose its
strength unless I make sure that the path to recovery also
includes building up the muscles, ligaments and so forth, at an
appropriate time. If I carry out the first instructions as best I can
but ignore the second, my leg will always be weak and liable to
further injury. At the same time, I shall be unlikely ever to be able
to do after the injury what I could have done previously.

The analogy ends here, because the Buddha was not concerned
with rehabilitation but with improvement. Neither was he
concerned with a purely physical condition, but with what we
might call a spiritual one. The root of the problem is our not
understanding ourselves properly in the first place, and this is
more akin to a psychological disorder than a physical one. But the
distinction between the two related aspects of treatment holds
good - don’t do yourself unnecessary daily harm, keep working
at improving what you are capable of. The precepts and
skilfulness work together in this way. When we look at an ethical
application of this we can see how.

As a father I may say I love my children. My underlying

intentions towards them are all good; I wish to bring them up
well and to do them no harm. In our everyday family life, I am
often in a situation where I am concentrating on something other
than them: doing a job around the house that has to be done;
reading to relax; or writing a letter that should have been written
yesterday. It occurs to my children that they have not had their
pocket money, and they interrupt me to get it - they want it now!
But right now I want to relax or get this job done. How much I
love my children is not uppermost in my mind; my desires and
theirs clash. I hold onto mine and they hold onto theirs; the result
is anger and frustration, as I tell them to go away and come back
later, while they tell me if I give it to them now they will not have
to bother me again. It is a trivial example, but it is one of many
that will recur during the day, and during every day that we are
together.

As a Buddhist, how might I deal with this situation? What can I

refer to? On one level the precepts, on another level the idea of
skilfulness; on a third I can recognize the application of the
Buddha’s teaching on dukkha itself, and the Four Noble Truths.
In the immediacy of the moment I cannot decide; I need to go
away and think about it, but that is impractical and not what is
required. I have to act, and how I act will depend upon what
thoughts and feelings arise in my mind. I may try and apply the
precepts, but I cannot do this mechanically; I have to be able to
overcome my own desires to satisfy my children’s. I also have to
make a judgement about the way their request should be treated.
But if my judgement is solely based on how I feel, it is likely to
be awry. After the event, all these thoughts may go through my
mind, but it is too late then, and so it will be the next time, and
the time after, unless I address what is going on under the
surface. In practice, showing my love to my children, though it is
there, becomes a much more difficult intention to perform than
I might imagine.

The practicality of Buddhist ethics

Looking at Buddhist ethics in this way affirms the importance of
addressing a pervasive misconception that is often held about the
relevance of ethics, and the relevance of Buddhist ideas to
everyday life. Both can be separated from our daily activity and
treated as intellectual mind-games, but this is not the intention.
The purchase of both is their utility: do they make a difference to
the way we live and the world we create? This question tests their
efficacy and, at the same time, helps us penetrate what otherwise
may seem baffling and remote concepts. For example, the
significance of anatta, the doctrine of no-self, involves an
awareness only gained by the practice of mindfulness. In turn,
mindfulness makes us increasingly aware of the heedlessness of
much of our thought and actions. In this way, Right Speech,
Action and Livelihood gain a practical significance that we can
illustrate from reflection on our experience. Ignorance ceases to
be a question of lack of theoretical knowledge; we can put our
finger on exactly when it has determined the way we have
behaved. Furthermore, we begin to realize that the view of
ourselves that has prompted such actions (composed of desire
and aversion) is the delusion that ensures this unsatisfactory state
of affairs is maintained and replayed. I love my children, but I
still behave to them in an inadequate and unskilful way. The goal
of Buddhist ethics is to change this behaviour, to refine it, by
increasing my capacity to create harmony and peacefulness in
relations with myself and others. This is not just a matter of dos
and don’ts, but rules do have their necessary place. It is not a
matter of penetrating inscrutable concepts; but greater awareness
involves more reflection. It is not a matter of retreating from the
world, but of having a practice that prepares me for those
situations in which it will be shown to be useful.
This analysis helps us to realize also that the Buddhist emphasis
on intention is not about having the right sentiments or ignoring
the effect of what we do. Buddhist morality is not a soft option
based upon the wish to be a nice person or do good works. There
is a rigour in Buddhist morality, because it conjoins both our
intelligence, in the fullest sense of the term, and our feelings, in
relation to what we will for ourselves and others, in progressing
toward wisdom and compassion. This is why skilfulness plays
such a central role, as the following Buddhist writer explains:
According to Buddhist tradition there are two kinds of
action, kausalya (Pali kusala) or skilful, and akausalya
(Pali akusala) or unskilful. This is significant because the
terms ‘skilful’ and ‘unskilful’, unlike the terms ‘good’ and
‘bad’, suggest that morality is very much a matter of
intelligence. You cannot be skilful unless you can
understand things, unless you can see possibilities and
explore them. Hence morality, according to Buddhism, is
as much a matter of intelligence and insight as one of good
intentions and good feelings. After all, we have been told
that the path to hell is paved with good intentions, but you
could hardly say that the path to hell is paved with
skilfulness. It just doesn’t fit.

(Sangharakshita, A Guide to the Buddhist Path,

Windhorse Publications, 1990, p 140)
We can now see the moral sense of what appear at first to be
simply abstract logical formulations, for example, the bare
doctrinal formulation of cause and effect.

That being thus this comes to be;

from the coming to be of that, this arises;
that being absent, this does not happen;
from the cessation of that, this ceases.

(Majjhima Nikaya, Vol. II, quoted in H. Saddhatissa,

Buddhist Ethics, Wisdom Publications, 1987, p 28)
This can now be applied on both the grand scale (spelt out in the
teaching on ‘dependent origination’, the theory of karma and the
pictorial expression of the Buddhist world view in the Wheel of
Becoming), and also in the minutiae of thought and action
between one moment and the next. It is this second application
that makes sense of things on a larger scale, and reveals ethics,
the issue of how to live well or appropriately, to be the core of
the Buddha’s teaching. Nirvana may appear to be a wonderful
dream - or a hideous annihilation - when viewed in a speculative
fashion, but neither view is of any significance whatsoever. Chase
nirvana or run away from it; such thoughts, conceptions and
actions are as erroneous as seeking a first cause or beginning.
What matters is the here and now of separating delusion from
understanding, and recognizing the effect of doing so; what
arises and what ceases, what is wholesome and what is not. This
is at the heart of Buddhism and Buddhist ethics. It is the dharma
and the path to happiness, or what is also termed ‘quietude of
heart’.

Working on yourself and benefiting others

This may be introduced in the form of a story. My younger
daughter has a habit, when being castigated for a mishap she has
performed, such as breaking a cup or mislaying her recorder,
with the refrain, ‘I didn’t mean to.’ I believe her complaint is
authentic; she is not just using it as an excuse, but really saying
she doesn’t believe she is truly at fault. However, as an adult, it
is clear to me that ‘not meaning to’ does not solve the problem.
Something more is required of her (and of me) if we are not to
repeat the situation. I may reflect that the inadequacy lies in her
thoughtlessness: if she were more aware of what was required of
her, such things would happen less often! If she maintains the
same stance in adulthood she will not receive a lot of sympathy.
The point is this: whether you mean to do something or not relies
upon being aware of what is required in being responsible for the
cup or the recorder. When we take this into account, we cannot
view doing the right things as just an impetuous activity - well-
meaning but not well-considered, or as an unreflective wish to
concentrate on that which we prefer to think about, in the
moment, without regard to other things that also need to be
considered. The answer to this problem lies in recognizing
responsibilities I may find more onerous, and in executing tasks
in a way that requires more discipline than I would normally
exercise. In other words, I have to work on myself in order to be
of benefit to others. A well-meaning person with little regard to
the effects of their action may be about as much use as a bull in
a china shop! This applies whether we are talking about the
home environment, aid sent to catastrophe areas across the
world, or diplomatic efforts to resolve crises.

‘Working on yourself’ in terms of awareness and discipline is of

fundamental importance but, from a Western point of view,
coloured by our own cultural context, it can appear to have an
individualistic emphasis, contrasting thinking of others with
thinking of oneself. If this is also related to the traditional
Buddhist communal form of monasticism, then is might appear
as a retreat from social obligation; a form of self-obsession and
introversion. But this is not the case. Self-development and the
recognition of personal and social responsibility are inseparable.
The principle holds good on the individual and the global scales;
what matters is to keep the balance. In traditional Buddhist
countries, the balance is kept by regarding monastic and lay life
as interdependent aspects of the social order. In the West we have
some difficulty with this, due to a very different social history.
Nevertheless, it is important to consider what external
environment, what pattern of daily life and what time spent in
quietude to address issues, is necessary. This is one of the vital
challenges to Buddhism today, as it spreads to the West and
reconsiders its role in an increasingly Westernized Asiatic world.
For the Westerner wishing to understand the Buddhist view, the
important issue to consider may be how the Buddhist accent on
self-development, or bhavana, can enrich the Western emphasis
(in real terms) on altruism. For Buddhists of course, at least in
theory, the two are not distinct, since the one flows from and
enriches the other, but that is not to say that Buddhists always get
it right, or that social structures in one society necessarily serve
the same ends in another. What must be confronted, however, is
the naive criticism that Buddhism falls short, morally speaking,
where other traditions succeed. If anatta, mindfulness,
skilfulness, wisdom and compassion are properly understood in
relation to each other, there are no grounds for levelling such a
criticism. Indeed, we might say that such scrutiny should be cast
the other way.

The precepts and the dharmas

The precepts outline what to abstain from, and the dharmas are
the qualities to cultivate. They go together, and it is important to
recognize that whilst abstaining from the one negative state of
mind resulting in negative action, the other, positive, state is
encouraged. The precepts have already been mentioned in
Chapter 1. The basic dharmas, or ethical principles, are also five
in number:
 Abstaining from acts of harmfulness is an encouragement of metta,
or loving kindness.
Abstaining from taking what is not given is an encouragement of
dana, or generosity.
Abstaining from sexual misconduct is an encouragement of
santutthi, or contentment.
Abstaining from false speech is an encouragement of sacca, or
truthfulness.
Abstaining from intoxicants of the mind is an encouragement of sati,
mindfulness or awareness.

Here, then, is the foundation of Buddhist practice (bhavana), the

qualities without which no progress is possible. The precepts are
held up as the fundamental code of Buddhist ethical life, not
because they stop you doing what you might want, but because
only to the extent that they are adhered to can the discipline
required to progress be made possible.

Let us look at this discipline in more detail, this time using the
fourth precept: abstention from false speech. As with all the
others, false speech is rooted in craving, hatred or fear. False
speech is a protective device which ignores truthfulness. The
more you lie, the more acceptable the habit becomes, and the less
important it is to be truthful. False speech goes further than
direct lying, of course. Outright lies are its gross form, but it is
also connected with many levels of communication. Right
Speech, the fourth step of the Eightfold Path, is speech generated
by affection and guided by discernment. It is to say something
which is helpful in a given situation, and to a particular person
or group of people. It is not the expression of anger, but equally
it should not be talking for talk’s own sake. It should be useful,
and, by virtue of this, be meaningful also. Put bluntly, it means
you should think carefully about what you are going to say and
how you are going to say it. This requires self-restraint - another
important quality for Buddhists. There is much that stands in the
way of achieving this goal with all its implications, but perhaps
the root of the matter is the need to develop honesty; not just the
idea of being honest with others, but of being honest with
oneself. Let us try an example.

I am in conversation with a friend, and we talk about what we

have been doing during the week. My friend tells me that she
applied for a job, went to the interview yesterday, and was told
she had got it. Now she is wondering whether to accept it, but is
obviously very excited at the prospect. She explains that, on the
strength of this success, and because she will earn more money
and have more status, she went out this morning and bought
some new clothes. She wants to show me the clothes and tells me
about all the new people she will meet, the places she will be
travelling to, and the projects she will be in charge of.

When my friend knocked on my door this morning I was pleased

to see her. Now I am not so sure. 1 want to feel pleased for her
but I am finding it difficult. I want to say the right thing, but I
lack the conviction to say it with any spontaneity. I have been
doing mundane chores, and here is someone speaking of the
excitement I would wish for my own life. Feelings arise that are
difficult to suppress and, though my responses are
conventionally appropriate to my role as friend, my heart is not
in it.

We have all been in situations which give rise to such difficulties.

But notice the levels on which Right Speech has to be addressed
in order to be accomplished. Maybe the best I can do now is put
on a good face, say the right things. But true affection and the
capacity for sympathetic joy will require much more work in
addressing the underlying reasons for my own dukkha which
prevent me offering them to the world - or in this particular case,
my friend. Restraint, discernment, awareness and acceptance all
have to be available to me. Fundamentally, I must recognize that
life will not present itself to me as I would wish it, and I must
address and recognize my wishes for what they are - desire,
aversion and fear - if I am to be able to communicate with real
generosity. So the example of Right Speech also serves as an
example for the other precepts. In this I must recognize that every
action is as it is because of the thoughts that gave rise to it, and
that progress on the Buddhist path is a matter of disciplined
improvement, and of the cultivation of those qualities that will
eventually make such situations no longer onerous, because the
negative states that bring them about will have been replaced by
positive ones. Ultimately we may even be able to replace our own
dukkha with insight. As we listen, we discern the need of the
other person and respond freely. Such a capacity to listen and
respond is referred to as ‘giving the gift of the dharma’, and this
is a blessing to the world, freely given for its own sake and
resulting in transformation.

We may view this progress from the one state to the other not in
terms of a sudden transformation, but rather as the development
of a skill. If I were learning to drive, swim or juggle, it would not
be so different. I must recognize what I am getting right and
getting wrong, and acknowledge what is improving as well as
investigate what is not quite right. With all these things there are
sudden breakthroughs. At first I am pretty useless; nothing goes
right. Then a number of things come together, and something I
once could not do at all is now possible. All of a sudden it seems
effortless, and there is nothing in the way. That is how it is. When
we think of this on a grand scale we can start to understand the
Buddhist idea of the bodhisattva, one who aspires to be a
buddha, and who acts for the weal of the world, to relieve its
suffering.
Buddhism does not, of course, simply think in terms of
individual ethics. A question which is often asked, especially by
individuals who feel disempowered, is ‘What can I do to change
the whole situation?’ Wars, famines and global catastrophes
constantly confront us, in the news and in the media generally.
Whilst we need to know about such events, we also have to feel
able to respond to them, rather than retreat from them. In this
respect the first precept is particularly significant. Most religious
and ethical traditions make firm statements about not killing in
a needless way, not murdering and abjuring senseless violence.
But the first precept, abstention from harming living beings, is a
commitment to non-violence. Whilst in theory this is a very
noble aim, we would be mistaken to say it is not contentious.

We have so far illustrated situations in which we may wish to do

the right thing but encounter difficulties in putting such a
motivation into practice; this emphasizes the importance of
skilfulness in Buddhist ethics. We are often confronted by
situations in which our ideals are overrun by a desire for revenge
or a wish to inflict pain and retribution. Everyone may regret
times when they acted impetuously and hurt someone else,
perhaps physically but more often emotionally. Yet most of us
recognize times when violence appears a necessary preventive
measure in order to stop further suffering. Why should Buddhist
teachings stand so resolutely against such a common-sense
necessity? If I act out of a good motive, isn’t my action thereby
exonerated? In a Christian context, this is the point at which the
Sermon on the Mount would be weighed alongside the Ten
Commandments. The first is a much more radical teaching than
the second, and the first precept aligns itself with this radical
alternative.
So we start with the situation we find ourselves in, and accept
that we are working on ourselves to influence the overall world
that we live in, with the aspiration to be virtuous in all things.
Ultimately this aspiration is to achieve harmlessness, but at
present it is to be as kind as possible. On the one hand we may
take this example from a Thai monk working in a particularly
difficult area of Thailand, where there are pirates and fishermen
who may be seen as rather rough and cruel people. We are told:
‘Murder is quite common among them. So this monk just tries to
encourage them not to kill each other. When these people come
to the monastery he doesn’t go round raising non-killing to the
level of, “You shouldn’t kill anything - not even a mosquito
larva”, because they couldn’t accept that. Their livelihood
depends very much on fishing and the killing of animals’ (Ven.
Ajahn Sumedho, Cittaviveka: Teachings from the Silent Mind,
Amaravati Publications, 1987, p 25). His teaching aims at
gradually sensitizing them in their everyday life to be less violent.

At the other extreme, we consider the situation of the Dalai

Lama, exiled in this present life from his country; many of his
people are undergoing repression, and in some cases, torture. His
response to such a dilemma tests the credulity of listeners across
the world. He continues to eschew violence as a means to
repatriation and freedom for his people, and his views can only
be honoured on the basis of his personal integrity and stature.
Whilst other calamities of a similar kind have evoked military
reprisal and quests for violent intervention, the present
incarnation of the Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara (the embodiment
of compassion) still affirms the need to seek peaceful ways of
overcoming present injustice. The focus of the Buddhist view
goes broader and deeper, more than just a response to immediate
affairs. The dharma, virtue, the precepts and the Eightfold Path
cannot be affirmed if there is no practice of sila (Right Speech,
Right Action and Right Livelihood) and, as a consequence, going
for refuge may entail facing up to difficult responsibilities within
a world driven by karmically negative forces.

Renunciation
No account of Buddhist morality would be complete without
dwelling on the concept of renunciation, which is so central to
the Buddhist view. It is apt to be misunderstood when it is seen
as a curtailment of freedom and opportunity, but this is largely
due to a reductionist understanding of such a rich concept. The
important question is, ‘What does renunciation entail?’
Once the Buddha had set in motion the Wheel of the Law
(dharma) by preaching his first sermon, he spoke of having
entered on the course that will make an end of suffering, and he
stated that, ‘The road was declared by me when I had
understood the removal of the darts.’
The darts (salla) are the hindrances or fetters that bind us to the
round of rebirth. They symbolize lust, hatred, delusion, pride,
false views, grief and indecision. When Buddhists speak about
renunciation it is in relation to these things. Buddhist decisions
about morality are necessarily undertaken with the knowledge
that virtue itself lies in the renunciation of these things, and that
whatever situation arises Right Action or Livelihood cannot be
motivated by any of these forces. Whilst in humanitarian terms
we may recognize fairness, or even retribution, as a way of
dealing with the balance of events in life (on a personal or global
scale), that course can never be the proper motivation of a
Buddhist sensibility. Whatever takes place here and now is
determined by the ongoing effect of karmic conditioning, and the
eradication of this can only be initiated by the renunciant ideal.
A short-term re-balancing of affairs, from a moral point of view,
is not necessarily an improvement in the overall context of
human history. We may witness this in the fact that the ending of
one war or period of violence does not end violence altogether.
The seeds of one conflict may be sown in the conclusion of a
previous one. Necessarily, therefore, the ideal of renunciation has
to take account of the continuous possibility of present suffering,
whilst holding fast to the motivation that renunciation imposes.
As with all ethical ideals found within the great religious
traditions, the conflict between pragmatism and idealism is
pronounced; but Buddhism, perhaps, identifies it more obviously
than others, since renunciation brooks no compromise. Its
strength lies in its overall vision but, understandably, this
involves a commitment that is not easy to sustain.

Renunciation is intimately related to skilfulness, and thus to the

notion of transforming the mind. There is an evolutionary sense
to this interconnection, which is well expressed in the following
passage by two Tibetan teachers:

There are many ways of transforming the mind. The

method presented here is intended to turn the mind from
non-virtue to virtue. For instance, if we set about training
our body, first we feel stiff and awkward. After
performing physical exercises, however, our body
becomes supple and agile and can adopt many postures
which previously would have been difficult. It is evident
 that the body can gain a greater degree of flexibility by
applying the appropriate exercises, and the same is true
for the mind. Initially, we may have to endure many
difficulties and hardships, but by making a concerted
effort we can make our mind very supple. Endowed with
this quality we may then engage in a great many skilful
activities.

(Geshe Rabten and Geshe Dhargyey, Advice from a

Spiritual Friend, Wisdom Publications, 1984, p 25)

Neither skilfulness nor virtue is gained from complacency. There

is little to offer from such a safe haven that will benefit others.
Helping people by saying things that renew them, and allow
them to face difficult situations, inevitably arises from sharing
our own difficulties with them. We may not think we are
speaking with wisdom, but rather voicing our own inadequacies;
but the effect is more vitalizing than platitudes of commiseration.
Given that circumstance does not let us live exactly as we would
wish according to our desires, this makes good sense, but we
must often be pushed into realizing it. This struggle is one that
we must have with ourselves; but it is a creative one, the benefits
of which become tangible in practice. The Buddhist scriptures
offer advice as to how to accomplish it. Here are some verses
related to transforming anger. The purpose of recollecting such
advice is to remove the obstacles to generating metta (loving
kindness).
Admonition to Oneself
The fourth method: if, however, in spite of one’s efforts,
irritation continues to arise, one should think thus:
Suppose an enemy has hurt you
In what is now his domain,
Why try yourself as well to hurt
Your mind? That is not his domain.
This anger that you entertain
Is gnawing at the very roots
Of all the virtues that you guard -
Where is there such a fool as you!

Another does ignoble deeds,

So you are angry - how is this?
Do you then want to copy, too,
The sort of acts that he commits?
Suppose another, to annoy,
Provokes you with some odious act,
Why suffer anger to spring up,
And do as he would have you do?
If you get angry, then may be
You make him suffer, may be not;
Though with the hurt that anger brings
You certainly are punished now.

If anger-blinded enemies
Set out to tread the path of woe,
Do you, by getting angry too,
Intend to follow heel to toe?

If hurt is done you by a foe

Because of anger on your part,
Then put your anger down, for why
Should you be harassed needlessly?

Since states last but a moment’s time,

Those aggregates, by which was done
The odious act, have ceased, so now
What is it you are angry with?

Whom shall he hurt, who seeks to hurt

Another, in the other’s absence?
Your presence is the cause of hurt;
Why are you angry, then, with him?

(Visuddhimagga 308, copyright H. Saddhatissa.

Reprinted from Buddhist Ethics with permission of
Wisdom Publications, 361 Newbury Street,
Boston, Massachusetts, USA.)
moral issues

In this chapter you will learn:

• the Buddhist principles -
related to the natural world,
the animal world and human
society - that inform moral
behaviour
• about issues central to the
concerns of present-day
society.
For Buddhists, all moral issues are approached with the
following in mind:
• Purifying the Mind and Developing Wisdom.
• Following the Precepts.
• The Law of Karma and Rebirth.
• Intentionality and Skilfulness.
• Developing Loving Kindness and Compassion.
These are not separate considerations but rather the factors which
ensure that what one does is a blessing to the world, rather than
a corruption of it. Sila (ethical action) is the expression of dharma
(truth); carried out in the course of everyday life and moral
decision making, it frees the world from dis-ease and confusion.
However, for Buddhists, there is no overall authority that
legislates right and wrong on particular issues. There is guidance,
and there are limits, but the task of making difficult decisions,
within the framework of the precepts, is the individual’s
responsibility. The following issues have been chosen to illustrate
this, and to represent particular focuses of Buddhist concern.

The natural world

Animal welfare
Rebirth, when aligned to the doctrine of harmlessness, leads
Buddhists to emphasize compassionate attitudes to all living
things. The Culla-Vagga, verse 6, states that:
Creatures without feet have my love,
And likewise those that have two feet,
And those that have four feet I love,
And those, too, that have many feet.
May those without feet harm me not,
And those with two feet cause no hurt,
May those with four feet harm me not,
Nor those who many feet possess.
Let creatures, all, all things that live,
All beings of whatever kind,
See nothing that will bode them ill!
May naught of evil come to them!
The Buddhist Declaration on Nature affirms:
The fact that (animals) may be incapable of
communicating their feelings is no more an indication of
 apathy or insensibility to suffering or happiness than in the
case of a person whose faculty of speech is impaired ...
There is a striking similarity between exterminating the
life of a wild animal for fun and terminating the life of an
innocent human being at the whim of a more capable and
powerful person ... [Buddhism is a] system which
propagates the theory of rebirth and life after death, it
maintains that in the continuous birth and rebirth of
sentient beings (not only on this planet but in the universe
as a whole) each being is related to us ourselves, just as
our own parents are related to us in this life ...
We regard our survival as an undeniable right. As co¬
inhabitants of this planet, other species too have this right
for survival. And since human beings as well as other non¬
human sentient beings depend upon the environment as
the ultimate source of life and well-being, let us share the
conviction that the conservation of the environment, the
restoration of the imbalance caused by our negligence in
the past, be implemented with courage and determination.
(Buddhist Declaration on Nature, Assisi,
29 September 1986)
The Sutta Nipata echoes these sentiments:
May creatures all abound
in weal and peace; may all
be blessed with peace always;
all creatures
weak or strong,
all creatures great and small;
creatures unseen or seen,
dwelling afar or near,
born or awaiting birth,
- may all be blessed with peace!
Just as with her own life
a mother shields from hurt
her own, her only, child, -
let all embracing thoughts
for all that lives be thine,
- an all-embracing love
for all the universe
in all its heights and depths
and breadth, unstinted love,
unmarred by hate within,
not rousing enmity.
Ecology
The Buddhist emphasis on harmony and ecological balance is
extended to the whole of the natural world. Buddhists see a need
to ensure the balance of nature as an ethical priority. In the
Buddhist Declaration on Nature at the Conference of World
Faiths in Assisi they stated:
Hence Buddhism is a religion of love, understanding and
compassion, and committed towards the ideal of non¬
violence. As such, it also attaches great importance to
wildlife and the protection of the environment on which
every being in this world depends for survival.
In the West, where ecological issues have gained some
prominence, Buddhist initiatives have also been in evidence. For
example, in 1979, The English Sangha Trust bought an area of
West Sussex woodland for a Forest Retreat Sangha. This is now
the focus of a conservation project based on the Buddhist idea of
harmony with all forms of life. The wood is being restored to its
original character having previously been exploited commercially,
by the implementation of a monocultural system of agriculture,
wherein are planted trees of a species suitable for growing as a
cash crop. The wood is now seen as a place of peace and
tranquillity, where monks and nuns can engage in solitary
meditation and retreat, and where indigenous wildlife can
flourish.
In 1991 the Samye Ling Tibetan Centre in Scotland launched the
‘Holy Island Project’. This has resulted in buying Holy Isle, just
off the Isle of Arran, to use as a place of spiritual retreat and as
a nature reserve. Four hundred years ago, the island was the site
of a monastery, and the project intends to restore it to its former
use, but as an interdenominational retreat centre as well as a
facility specifically for Buddhist practitioners.

Vegetarianism
Given the first precept, it might seem logical that all Buddhists
are vegetarian; however, this is not always the case, as this
comment demonstrates:
‘Is it permissible to eat meat?’ I asked a learned and holy
Tibetan lama. ‘Certainly, although if you are practising
meditation on compassion it could be counterproductive.’
‘Is it not the case that the one who eats meat bears
responsibility for the killing?’ The holy man looked
 astonished. Patiently he explained to me basic Buddhist
truths which I should have mastered lives ago. Of course
not. The one who eats meat a) intends to eat, and b) may
or may not intend to eat meat. Meat is, as a matter of fact,
what is being eaten. But nowhere in the mental states of
our reverend gourmand is there an intention to kill. In
fact, in the Tibetan tradition, by the monk reciting suitable
formulae over the juicy curry, the goat may actually obtain
a more favourable rebirth than would otherwise be the
case. Thus, even while eating meat, our monk can
generate compassion and do good towards a creature
which was already dead, and dead through no wish of the
monk himself.’
(Paul Williams, in C. Erricker (ed.), Teaching World
Religions, Heinemann, 1993, p 46)
Nevertheless, in the West especially, some Buddhists do make out
a strong case for encouraging the vegetarian viewpoint.
In A Buddhist Case for Vegetarianism, Roshi Philip Kapleau cites
his own students often asking the question, ‘Does Buddhism
prohibit meat-eating?’ He includes a letter illustrating the
dilemma that many Westerners face when trying to convert
Buddhist principles into practice, which runs thus:
We were drawn to Buddhism by its teaching of respect for
all forms of life, human as well as non-human. But being
new to it, we are confused and concerned about one thing.
To practise Buddhism correctly, is it necessary to give up
eating meat? There seems to be no agreement among
Buddhists on this point. We’ve heard that in Japan and
Southeast Asia lay Buddhists and even monks and priests
eat meat, and that teachers in the United States and other
Western countries do the same. But here in Rochester
we’re told that you and your students are vegetarians. Do
the Buddhist scriptures forbid the eating of meat? If so, for
what reasons? If they don’t forbid it, why, may we ask, are
you a vegetarian? We would become vegetarians ourselves
if we were sure that by doing so we could become more
deeply involved in Buddhism. But if that were not the case,
we’d rather not give up meat, partly because all our
friends eat it. Also, we do have some reservations from a
health standpoint about a vegetarian diet.
(Roshi Philip Kapleau, A Buddhist Case for
Vegetarianism, Rider, 1983, p 4)
Underlying this concern is the idea that meat gives strength and
energy, and contributes to a balanced diet. Kapleau cites the
American philosopher, Thoreau, in answer to such a question:
When asked by a farmer, ‘I hear you don’t eat meat.
Where do you get your strength (read ‘protein’)?’
Thoreau, pointing to the husky team of horses drawing
the farmer’s wagon, replied, ‘Where do they get their
strength?’ Kapleau further contends that according to
modern medical opinion, the issue is now beyond
speculation. Vegetarians, it seems are on the side of the
angels.
(ibid., pp 4-5)
He goes on to cite the pain and suffering involved in animal
slaughter, and in the way in which animals are reared and
transported in environments solely conditioned by economic
greed. Vegetarians would maintain that meat eating represents a
tacit acceptance of human greed, and a complicity in its process.
So, one may ask, should Buddhists not therefore align themselves
with the principle of vegetarianism? The issue can be extended
further, as this sentiment from an ancient Chinese verse indicates,
linking animal slaughter to bad karma:
For hundreds of thousands of years
the stew in the pot
has brewed hatred and resentment
that is difficult to stop.
If you wish to know why there are disasters
of armies and weapons in the world,
listen to the piteous cries
from the slaughterhouse at midnight.
(ibid., p 17)
Of course, the principle of rebirth also plays a part in this
argument. In Mahayana Buddhism, one of the themes for
contemplation is that, in the endless cycle of rebirths, not a single
being has not been our mother, father, husband or other relative
in some way. This breaks down the species division between
humans and non-humans, and does not allow us to think of
other creatures as separate, inferior life forms. All life therefore
becomes sacred.
Nevertheless, traditionally, Buddhism is not exclusively
vegetarian. One contemporary Buddhist, of the Tibetan
tradition, in answer to the question ‘May monks eat meat?’
replies:
 Strictly speaking, from the point of view of the vinaya, a
monk should not eat meat. However, most Tibetan monks
do eat meat and I have been influenced by them so I eat it
too. Originally, when I was first ordained and living in a
monastery in Nepal most of my time was spent in study
and meditation so I didn’t eat meat. We tended to get up
early and go to bed early and a vegetarian diet made sleep
lighter and the mind clearer for meditation. But when I
started travelling and leading a more ‘normal’ lifestyle -
working - I just found that I was too hungry at night and
did not feel so strong. So I started eating meat.
(P. Connolly and C. Erricker, The Presence & Practice
of Buddhism, West Sussex Institute of Higher Education,
1985, p 111)
So the answer to the question, ‘Are Buddhists vegetarian?’ is this:
Some are and some are not. However, Western Buddhists are
certainly sensitive to this issue, and many see a sensitizing of our
way of life as a commitment to vegetarianism.
There is a caveat to this, however. Monks, as mendicants, when
presented with dana (their meal of the day, put into their alms
bowl by lay Buddhists), are expected to accept such generosity
unquestioningly. Traditionally, giving meat is often seen by lay
Buddhists as a generous gesture, and it would not be appropriate
for the monks to refuse.

Human society
Capital punishment and imprisonment
In principle, and following the first precept, Buddhism deplores
the taking of life under any circumstances. However, in some
Buddhist countries, notably Thailand and Burma, the death
penalty is exercised in certain cases. One of the most important
teachers in Buddhist history, Buddhaghosa, considered the act of
killing and murder as follows:
‘Taking life’ means to kill anything that lives. The precept
says that you should not strike or kill any living being.
‘Anything that lives’ is anything that has what is called
the ‘life-force’. This includes all members of the animal
kingdoms as well as humans. ‘Taking life’ means killing
or trying to kill deliberately, by word or action.
 With regard to animals, it is worse to kill large ones than
small ones. This is because you have to make a much
greater effort to kill large ones. Even where the effort is
the same, the difference in importance has to be taken into
account. When it comes to human beings, the killing is
considered to be worse if the person killed was a good
(virtuous) person. Apart from that, the seriousness of the
offence is also measured by how much the murderer
wanted the killing to happen.
(quoted in J.Rankin et al., Religion and Ethics,
Longman, 1991, p 152)
Whilst the act of killing is effectively prohibited in principle, the
important issue is to be compassionate in any circumstance.
Given this, one should offer this compassion to anyone, whatever
their circumstance and whatever acts they may have committed.
One Buddhist mission which promotes this principle is a
chaplaincy service for prisoners in the United Kingdom. The
purpose of this venture is to bring some serenity, contemplation
and desire for altruistic action into prisoners’ lives. ‘Buddha
groves’ (areas for contemplation in which Buddha images have
been placed) have been established in some British prisons. The
director of the British Prison Chaplaincy Service explains:
My purpose in encouraging the placing of these simple
Buddhist shrines in the prisons is twofold and has nothing
to do with proselytizing or trying to win converts to
Buddhism. The Prison Service admits that prisoners
should be allowed to practise their religion and that places
of worship should be provided for the prisoners of all
religious faiths. Our first objective then, in a very modest
way, is to help meet that standard by providing the few
Buddhist prisoners with a focus for their devotion and
meditation practice. And, secondly, for those who are not
Buddhist we hope that having the opportunity to rest their
eyes on something as serene and peaceful as a Buddha-
Rupa will help them quieten their minds and bestow a
little respite from the turmoil so often about and within
them.
The particular results of their efforts are exemplified thus:
Inmates in Risley (prison) fasted recently so that the
money that would have been used to feed them could be
diverted to the starving in Rwanda.
(Ajahn Khammadhammo, The Forest Hermitage
Newsletter, September 1994)
Abortion and mercy killing
In this area, the Five Precepts once more prevail as guiding
principles - especially the first, which is linked with the quality
of compassion. However, given that there is no overriding
authority in ethical matters in Buddhism, each individual must
make his or her own decision about the circumstances in which
they find themselves.
Abortion, in principle, is to be avoided, though, as the following
comment shows, it is not absolutely forbidden:
Although abortion appears to, perhaps really does,
abrogate the first principle, it might on balance, and in
particular circumstances, yet be considered a necessity for
compassionate reasons.
(General Secretary, The Buddhist Society)
However, groups motivated by the Buddhist principle of
compassion do tend to attach a particular significance to birth -
despite it not being linked to a doctrine of creation - as is
demonstrated here with regard to doctors and midwives:
Every birth is Holy. I think that a midwife must be
religious, because the energy she is dealing with is Holy.
She needs to know that other people’s energy is sacred.
(Ina May Gaskin, Spiritual Midwifery,
The Book Publishing Co., 1980, p 282)

War
It hardly needs stating that every world religion is, in principle,
against violence. But, in practice, the question of course remains
as to what to do when violent action is required to preserve a
particular faith or culture.
When a British mission, led by Younghusband, sought to enter
Tibet by force at the beginning of the twentieth century, the
Tibetans put down their arms and retreated from their borders.
This might be seen as an act of cowardice, but the Buddhist
motivation was to reduce the amount of harm incurred by
conflict. The message of the Dalai Lama, in exile today, echoes
this action. Politically naive as it may appear, Buddhists have
generally taken this stance of non-resistance in most violent
situations (although armed resistance to the Chinese has been
organised by some Tibetans within Tibet, with the involvement
of the CIA).
Scripture and tradition both point to social harmony being the
result of inner peace. The Dhammapada states:
Though one man conquer a thousand times a thousand
men in battle, he who conquers himself is the greatest
warrior ...
Better than sovereignty over the earth, better than the
heaven-state, better than dominion over all the worlds is
the first step on the noble path ...
And:
Hatred does not cease by hatred, hatred ceases only by
love. This is the eternal law.
Of course, the ideal is not always matched by the actuality, as the
problems faced by Tamils in Sri Lanka in recent years have
demonstrated.

Suicide
Suicide is not a moral fault, properly speaking, because morality
is directly concerned with what we do to others. The great
Buddhist teacher Nagarjuna explained:
According to the Treatise on Discipline, suicide is not
murder. Fault and merit result respectively from a wrong
done to others or the good done to others. It is not by
caring for one’s own body or killing one’s own body that
one acquires merit or commits a misdeed.
(Buddhist Studies Review, Vol 4, No. 2, 1987, p 106)
However, if one person incites another to suicide, that is a
different matter:
If a monk, with deliberate intent, takes with his own
hands the life of a human being ... if he himself gives him
a weapon and tells him to kill himself; if he praises death
to him; if for example he says to him, Tie on you! What
good does this miserable life do you? Far better to die than
live’, in such a way that the other conceives in his heart a
delight in dying; if in these various fashions he tells him to
die or praises death to him, and later that man, because of
this, dies, that monk is blameworthy of a very grave
offence and should be excluded from the Community ...
(ibid., p 105)
Suicide is, however - like all conscious or voluntary acts - subject
to the law of karma. Suicide is folly, insofar as taking one’s own
life is the outcome of the desire to annihilate oneself; for the fruit
of that act is a rebirth in the samsaric realm, and hence further
suffering.
Nevertheless, suicide is justified in the case of the ‘Noble Ones’,
who have already cut off desire. There can be no possible further
fruition to their actions. Death is a way of severing their last link
with this world and passing into nirvana, since they have done
what had to be done. A test case is that of Valkali: Valkali was a
disciple of the Buddha who became sick and experienced great
suffering. The Buddha was told of this, and came to where
Valkali lay:
The Master approached and said to him: ‘Do not move,
Valkali, there are seats quite near and I shall sit there.’
Having sat down, he went on: ‘Friend, is it tolerable? Is it
viable? Are the painful feelings you are experiencing on the
decrease and not on the increase?’
‘No, Master,’ replied Valkali, ‘it is neither tolerable nor
viable. The painful feelings are on the increase and not on
the decrease.’
‘Then have you some regret and some remorse?’
‘Yes, Master,’ confessed Valkali, ‘I have much regret and
much remorse.’
‘Does your conscience reproach you for something from the
moral point of view?’
‘No, my conscience does not reproach me for anything
from the moral point of view.’
‘And yet,’ stated the Buddha, ‘you have regret and remorse.’
‘This is because for a long time I have wanted to go and
look at the Master, but I do not find the strength in my body
to do it.’
‘For shame, Valkali!’ cried the Buddha, ‘What good would
it do you to see my body of filth? Valkali, whoever sees my
Doctrine, sees me; whoever sees me sees my Doctrine.’
Having spoken thus, the Buddha went to the Vulture Peak,
while Valkali had himself carried to the Black Rock on the
Seers’ Mount. During the night two deities warned the
Buddha that Valkali was thinking of liberating himself and
that, once liberated, he would be delivered.
 The Buddha dispatched some monks to Valkali to tell him:
‘Blameless will be your death, blameless the end of your
days.’
‘Return to the Master,’ said Valkali, ‘and in my name
prostrate yourselves at his feet. Be sure and tell him that I
no longer feel any doubt regarding the transitory, painful
and unstable nature of all the phenomena of existence.’
The monks had hardly left when Valkali ‘took the knife’
and killed himself. The Buddha, being doubtful about this,
immediately went to the Black Rock in the company of
several disciples. Valkali lay dying on his couch, his
shoulders turned to the right, for it is thus that the Noble
Ones die. A cloud of black dust moved around him.
‘Do you see, O Monks,’ the Buddha asked, ‘that cloud of
dust which is drifting in all directions around the corpse? It
is Mara, the Malign One who is seeking the whereabouts of
Valkali’s consciousness. But Valkali’s consciousness is
nowhere: Valkali is in complete Nirvana.’
Hence the Noble Ones who have triumphed over delusion
and eliminated passion can, once their task is done, speed
the hour of deliverance by voluntarily taking their own
lives. Whatever the means used, act of will, recourse to the
supernormal, or quite simply the rope or knife, their suicide
is ‘blameless’.
(ibid., pp 110-111)

Altruistic sacrifice
Equally, Bodhisattvas who gave their life altruistically for other
beings were regarded as noble and blameless; one such was the
Bodhisattva Vessantara, whose action towards the hungry tigress
in the Vessantara Jataka is recorded in Chapter 4.

Auto-cremation
There is another form of religious suicide, known as auto¬
cremation. The burning of their own bodies by Buddhist monks
in Vietnam, as a protest against the regime, arguably falls into
this category. The important point in these events is, of course,
not the act itself, but the question of its motive or intention, and
the state of mind in which it was carried out.

Gender and equality

In all the major religious traditions of the world this is a vexed
issue, largely for historical and social reasons. In the times of
those who founded traditions the status of women tended to be
subservient to that of men. In Indian culture, the caste system
provided a rigorous definition of a woman’s role. For example,
the question of a dowry, to be paid by the wife’s parents to those
of the husband, was also an indication of what was expected of
her in the future.
In Buddhism the caste system was abolished, even though the
monastic nature of the movement made the Buddha reticent to
receive women into the order. The segregation of males and
females was strictly observed in the context of renunciation,
which emphasized the importance of avoiding situations that
could inflame lustful desires.
However, women were accepted in both lay and monastic
environments. The role of the mother, as one who gave and who
was worthy of compassion, was stressed. The notion of rebirth
actually accentuated the recognition that gender difference was
not a fundamental determinant of identity. As the tradition
evolved, so women played their part. When Buddhism extended
beyond India to Sri Lanka, an order of nuns was requested for
the island. Nevertheless, conservative social influences have
tended to ensure that, on the whole, the role of women in
traditionally Buddhist countries today is not equal to that of
men, whether in the monastic sangha or lay life. In the
Theravadin tradition there is some difficulty regarding the status
of nuns, since full ordination died out in the lineage over the
course of time, and Western female Buddhists who decide to take
up the monastic life are duly prevented from achieving fully
ordained status. Therefore they are, at present, subservient in
status to any ordained monk, regardless of the number of years
they have been in the sangha. This is an issue that the Western
branches of Theravada Buddhism are constantly seeking to
address.
In other branches of Buddhism the issue has evolved differently.
A woman was made spiritual head of the reformed Soto-Zen
Church, as Abbess of Shasta Abbey in California, and Throssel
Hole Priory in the United Kingdom. The Reverend Jiyu-Kennett
was certified as Dharma Heir and fully licensed teacher by her
master, the Very Reverend Keido Chisan Koho, Zenji.
In Tibetan Buddhism there have always been female
boddhisattvas, who have been the subject of devotion. Green and
White Tara, embodying compassion, are the most obvious
examples. Kuan Ying (the female form of Chenrezig or
Avalokiteshvara, in Chinese and Japanese Buddhism) is also
venerated. However, as often tends to be the case, this esteem is
not wholly transferred to the status of women in these societies!
As far as equality is concerned, there is still a way to go, but
Western Buddhism could provide the lead in this respect, because
it is such a significant issue in Western society. The FWBO
acknowledges, with some qualification, the value of the feminist
movement:
Feminism ... could be described as a movement that
demands - or insists - that women should have access to
all the facilities they require for their development as
human beings; it asserts that they should not be confined
or limited to any particular range of facilities or activities;
and it encourages them to take more initiative, be more
independent, and to function as individuals in their own
right, rather than being mere extensions or supports to the
men in their lives. Feminism of this sort is quite
compatible with Buddhism and the spiritual life ...
At the hub of the FWBO we therefore find a unified Order
of women and men; everything in the Order is open to
women and men; they take the same ordination and vows;
they exercise the same functions at public centres; they
practise the same meditations, study the same texts, and
so on. In the FWBO we feel that no one should be
excluded from the process of higher human development,
whether on the grounds of sex, race, colour, level of
education, or social position.
(Golden Drum, Windhorse Publications, No. 7,
November-January 1987/8, p 13)
e social order

In this chapter you will learn:

• about Buddhist monastic and
family life
• about the Buddhist rites of
passage, in particular about
the distinctiveness of the
Buddhist understanding of
death and rebirth.
Ordination
Ordination generally entails taking up the mendicant life and
‘going forth’ as a monk or nun. In the Theravada tradition this
is known as bhikkbu ordination, and follows on from the
procedure first established by the Buddha when he ordained his
first disciples, saying, ‘Ehi bhikkhuV (‘come bhikkhu!’) after his
first sermon in the Deer Park at Sarnath.

Candidates for ordination will already be anagarikas (novices).

The ceremony will take place within a sima (a specially defined
area). An upajjbaya (preceptor) must officiate. He will be a
senior monk, head of an order or senior incumbent of a
monastery, invested with this responsibility. The candidates must
be able to recite the Patimokkha (rules of discipline). Before the
ceremony, new robes will have been made for the candidates,
dyed brown or saffron. After it, they will be bound by the 227
rules of the monastic community and the Ten Precepts. In the
Mahayana tradition the conventions and ceremonies vary, but
the commitment is essentially the same. The robes worn are
black in the Zen tradition and maroon in the Tibetan.

Celibacy
The Vinaya (Code of Discipline) orders monastic life, which
demands celibacy. It is worth noting, however, that in certain
Japanese, Korean and Tibetan orders it is possible for monks and
nuns to marry, though this is the exception rather than the rule.
The Western Buddhist Order does not, strictly speaking, have
monks and nuns. They may be married with families or be single.
However, celibacy is practised by some Order members. Those
with families may still choose to live in single-sex communities,
as this comment by a Western Buddhist Order member
illustrates:

Some people are surprised that I have a child and that I am

an Order member who has gone for refuge to the Buddha
and Sangha. Chastity, living in a community of men, and
having a child, with the mother living in a women’s
community with the child, is cooperatively worked out.
All Order members are working towards happy celibacy,
contentment. That is certainly what I’m working toward.
The primary thing is that I remain clear about being a
Buddhist first and a parent second, for the sake of myself
and the child. If I lose sight of that I’m lost really. What
 children need is clear positive emotion from the adults
around them. I need the conditions to support positivity
and clarity.
(FWBO member)

Weddings and marriage

Marriage is regarded in Buddhism as a social and civil matter.
Monks therefore do not officiate at weddings, nor are they
allowed to be present at the ceremony. Monks will bless a
marriage as a separate event, after the ceremony, but the
distinction between this and the ceremony itself is quite clear. As
one Theravada Buddhist puts it:
It’s not according to the Vinaya, which is the code of
conduct for the monks. They are excluded from taking
part in these ceremonies, because the Buddhist monk is a
person who has renounced worldly life. He is working on
his own salvation, and he is in a monastery which has
been provided.
(John Bowker, Worlds of Faith, BBC, 1983, p 207)

Family life
Since Buddhism is traditionally centred upon monastic life and
the quest for liberation, it might seem that Buddhists would
have little to say about married life and bringing up children.
However, more than ninety-five per cent of Buddhists are lay
people, with these issues very much at the centre of their lives.

Sangha has a larger meaning than just ‘monastic community’,

indeed, had the Buddha not spread his message to lay people the
tradition would not have developed in the way that it has. The
importance of the interdependent relationship between monastic
and lay society was always emphasized by the Buddha, and with
good reason, since, given the doctrine of rebirth, our station
changes in successive lives and the merit accrued by good karma
in one life is the only means to elevation in the next. Thus the
significance of how one lives life as a lay person, and the way in
which children are nurtured are important issues in Buddhist
society which have led to the observance of specific rules and
customs.
 The Buddha said: ‘A wise man should avoid unchastity as if it
132
were a pit of burning cinders. One who is not able to live in a
<D state of celibacy should at least not break the purity of another
to man’s wife.’ (Suttanipata, v. 396).
O
O
W
O
a The importance of the family
®
In the Buddha’s Discourses there is much advice to householders
on the importance of family life and how it should be conducted.
The Rukkbadamma Jataka compares the strength of family life
to the trees of the forest, which are able to withstand the force of
the wind, when a solitary tree, however large, cannot {Jataka,
CO Vol., 1, v. 329).

The metaphor is apt for the significance of both family life and
sangha generally, suggesting that family ties and spiritual
friendship encourage growth in the dharma and resistance to
samsaric conditions. The Sigalovada Suttanta gives the most
specific advice on lay society and family life. Sigola was a young
man who showed no interest in the dharma, but who was
entreated by his dying father to worship the six quarters of the
earth and sky. Ignorant of the meaning of this, he was met one
morning by the Buddha taking this advice literally, worshipping
in every direction. The Buddha explained the six quarters to him
as parents, teachers, wife and children, friends and associates,
employees, religious teachers and priests. In each of these
relationships certain duties pertain.

Parents and children

In the relationship between parent and child, the child should:

• support his or her parents

• perform their duties for them
• keep up the family and family traditions
• be worthy of his or her heritage
• offer alms in honour of departed relatives.
The parent should:

• restrain the children from evil

• direct them toward the good
• attend to their education
• see them married at a proper age
• hand over their inheritance.

(Digha Nikaya, Vol. 111,180, quoted in H. Saddhatissa,

Buddhist Ethics, Wisdom Publications, 1987, p 118)
This description of duties can be complemented by a story
illustrating the spirit of the relationship between parents and
children that Buddhism seeks to develop:

Red Beans and Rice

There was once a director of a big company in Japan. He

was elected president of a special club for businessmen. At
the fancy dinner party to celebrate his election he served
all his guests a dish of red beans and rice. In Japan, this
dish is served when you want to wish someone well-being
in the future. But at this grand dinner, this dish seemed out
of place. The director was moved to explain why he had
served the dish. He told everyone that it commemorated
an incident in his life.

He was born and lived in a very poor farming family. His

family was so poor that he grew to realize that however
hard he might work on the land, he would never be able
to produce enough from it to be able to care for his
parents in their old age or to try to help educate his
brothers and sisters. He decided that he would have to go
to a town to find some other work. However, he was very
aware that in Japan for an elder son to leave the land and
his family was a source of great sadness. After much
thought he resolved to make his departure at night,
secretly. So he packed a small bundle for travel.

Long before dawn he made ready to leave his home. He

was just about to slip out of the kitchen door when he saw
that his mother, who was normally asleep at that time,
instead was up and working in the kitchen. Without
turning to look at him she spoke.

‘I’ve prepared some red beans and rice for you. Eat it
before you go.’

He sat down in front of it at the small kitchen table. His

mother brought over some hot soup as well. He was so
close to tears that he could not eat anything. Seeing this his
mother said, ‘Maybe since you’ve just got up you may not
be hungry. I’ll take the rice from your bowl and make it
into rice balls which you can carry with you and eat later.’

He received the rice balls from her and left the house into the
dark of the night. Following the dark road to the station, he
cried all of the way. He went off to the town and worked
very hard. Even though he made a fortune, he could never
forget that dish of red beans and rice. If he thought about
 doing something bad, the memory of the red beans and rice
134
stopped him.
<D
(0
At the dinner party, the businessman said, ‘There are
O many people here who are much finer than I am, but in
O
S'
spite of that I have been elected as president. What gave
ao me this honour is red beans and rice. Therefore I would
like you also to eat it.’

When an old Zen teacher heard this story he was very

moved. Not only by the maternal love that was
demonstrated, but by the superb wisdom of the mother
shown by her willingness to let him go. Somehow, she
knew exactly what her son was thinking and what it was
that he had to do.

(Ven. Morinaga Soko Roshi, Rainbows Magazine,

Amaravati Publications, July 1994, p 4)

Husband and wife

In the relationship between husband and wife, the husband
should:
• be courteous to his wife
• respect her
• be faithful
• hand over authority to her
• provide her with clothes and adornments.

The wife should:

• perform her household duties well

• be hospitable to relatives
• be faithful
• protect the family income
• be skilled and industrious in her duties.

(Digha Nikaya, Vol. Ill, 190, quoted in H. Saddhatissa,

Buddhist Ethics, Wisdom Publications, 1987, p 120)

Spiritual friendship
The idea of spiritual friendship underpins relationships within
Buddhist community life, and is of particular importance in the
bond between husband and wife:
 If the matter of selection of the family into which one is
135
born in the present existence is closely connected with the
karmic effects of previous lives, the selection of one’s o
(0
friends is clearly more directly associated with the o
o
circumstances and acts of the current life. Physiologically, S’
the world is perpetuated by the family relationship, but o
the Buddha has also given the quality of making friends as EL
©
one which is instrumental in ‘making the world go round’.
The person who is kindly, who makes friends, makes
welcome, is free from avarice, is understanding, is a
conciliator, such a one obtains good repute. Generosity,
kindly speech, doing good to whatever person, fairness in
all things, everywhere as is fit and proper, these are indeed
the means on which the world turns, just as a chariot
moves on quickly depending on the pin of a wheel axle.

(Digha Nikaya, Vol. Ill, 192, quoted in H. Saddhatissa,

Buddhist Ethics, Wisdom Publications, 1987)

The Sanyutta Nikaya says:

It is not easy to find a being who has not been your
mother, or your father, your brother, your sister or your
son or daughter ...
(,Sanyutta Nikaya, Vol. II, 189)

From this we can see that all relationships are meant to be

approached in the same way, and with the same virtues and
conduct in mind. Spiritual friendship is the key to this, whether
for monk or for lay person, but in considering the relationship
between husband and wife this is the essential quality - the pin
that turns the wheel of family life. As one Buddhist, a member of
the Friends of the Western Buddhist Order, explains:

Perhaps the most radical changes in our attitudes to

marriage occur when we begin to develop spiritual
friendships, for here we discover the delights, the joys, of
a truly human relationship in which there is no longer the
aspect of two insecure people trying to prop each other
up. Instead we find ourselves striving toward the same
sublime ideal as our friend. We can face up to difficulties
in our friendships by trying to bring more and more of our
ideals into our communication with each other. We urge
each other on to become more independent, to let our
qualities shine out, to overcome weaknesses.
(Golden Drum, Windhorse Publications, No. 7, p 7)
Birth and upbringing
Traditionally, before her baby’s birth, a mother-to-be may visit
a temple to receive blessings from the monks. Soon after the
birth, too, babies are taken to the temple to receive blessings.
Many Buddhists give their children names which begin with
auspicious sounds, and a monk may be consulted as to suitable
names. Some Western families may wish to give Asian names to
their children. Later on in their lives, boys in Burma and
Thailand may take temporary ordination as part of their
education. This will last for only a matter of weeks in most
cases. This rite of passage is unavailable at present to Buddhists
in Western countries. Some efforts are being made, however, to
establish a ceremony marking children’s commitment to a
Buddhist way of life:

Coming of Age: A Buddhist Way

On March 12th, I celebrated my 13th birthday at the
Devon Vihara. I decided to do this because my cousin and
my friend are both having a Barmitzvah this year. (A
Barmitzvah is a Jewish ceremony celebrating coming of
age.) I decided that I wanted to find a Buddhist way to
celebrate my 13th birthday and the beginning of my adult
years. So I talked with Ajahn Santacitto at the Devon
Vihara and he liked the idea very much.

The day before the event I stayed at the Vihara and helped
with various jobs. I was also preparing myself for the day
ahead. I wore white clothing which represents purity and
was trying to keep the precepts. For the celebration itself,
I invited lots of people to come along.

The day started with the offering of a dana meal to the

monks, followed by Paritta chanting, precepts and a short
Dhamma talk by Ajahn Santacitto. All of these I requested
in Pali by myself. After the chanting and the Dhamma
talk, other people offered reflections on what it is to be a
man. The ceremony ended by planting a Douglas Fir tree
outside. It came from our front garden so it felt like part
of our family was left at the Vihara. It was nice to plant
something living that would grow big and strong. It felt
symbolic of the day and we could see it year after year and
remember the occasion.
 Lots of people gave me nice presents including the monks
at the Devon Vihara who gave me a Buddha rupa.

I enjoyed the whole day and thought it went really well. I

especially enjoyed staying at the Vihara by myself
beforehand.

(Rainbows Magazine, Amaravati Publications,

July 1994, p 5)

Religious observance
Observing Buddhist families keep a Buddha statue in the home,
prominently positioned and well above the ground. This acts as
a shrine; in some family homes there may be a separate shrine
room. As in the monastery or temple, pujas or short services will
be conducted here daily, and especially on full moon or festival
days. Offerings of flowers, candles and incense are given and the
precepts and refuges taken. Food is placed in front of the Buddha
as a sign of generosity.

Families may also attend the local monastery or temple on

observance days, when they will take the traditional offerings
(dana, or food for the monks and nuns in the Theravadin
tradition), and re-affirm their commitment by taking the refuges
and precepts. This may be followed by meditation and chanting.

Children’s education
In traditionally Buddhist Asian countries a child’s schooling
includes a basic outline of Buddhist values. The Sigalovada
Suttanta gives five ways in which a pupil should conduct him- or
herself towards the teacher, and five in which the teacher should
conduct him- or herself towards the pupil:

The five devolving on the pupil are stated in Pali terms

which may be construed literally and figuratively. In the
literal sense, 1) the pupil should rise from his seat in
salutation, 2) wait on the teacher, 3) desire to hear him, 4)
render him personal service, and 5) honour him by
reception. Figuratively these may be taken as displaying
energy, understanding the teacher, paying attention,
showing obedience, and preparing the work thoroughly.
 The teacher should show his compassion, or love, for the
pupils by teaching and training them well and happily,
seeing that they grasp all the arts and crafts equally and
thoroughly, teaching them in the respectful manner he
adopts towards friends, and by making them secure in
every way.

(.Digha Nikaya, Vol. Ill, 189, quoted in H. Saddhatissa,

Buddhist Ethics, Wisdom Publications, 1987, p 127)

In the West the situation is different:

Struggling to find our own way and balance in daily living

- what about the children? Should we be establishing
Buddhist schools? Some people are investigating this
possibility and feel the need to provide a Buddhist
orientated education. Others feel that the way forward is
through integration. What is clear at the moment is that
there is no form of western Buddhism to point to and say,
‘This is how we will all do it’. True to the teachings
themselves, everything is uncertain, but at this particular
juncture in the development of Buddhism, incredibly
exciting.

(World Religions in Education, The Shap Working Party,

1986, p 23)
A Buddhist school has now been established for infants in the
UK, at Brighton, in Sussex. Summer schools and family days are
run by various Buddhist groups. The following extract from a
children’s newsletter illustrates the sort of activities that take
place, in the words of a nine-year-old child:

A Day at Amaravati
A nun told us a story about a monkey, an elephant and a
partridge. They tried to remember a tree to see who was
the oldest and it was the partridge because he could
remember he dropped the seed that grew into the tree.

We did paintings and drawings of that and after that we

went out to the Stupa in the field and we had a joss stick
each and held it like a prayer and we had to walk around
three times and each time we came to the front we did
three bows and then we stuck the joss sticks in the ground
near the flowers and lit them... Then we did meditation.
Ven. Amaro lit a candle and we sat cross-legged with our
knees on the ground and were very quiet and looked at the
candle and thought about who was our best friend and I
 thought I couldn’t really say my brother because he is my
best friend, so I thought about Charlie instead and then I
thought of my brother who I love and my mummy and
daddy and then Ven. Amaro banged a little gong and we
woke up.
(Rainbows Magazine, No. 7,
Amaravati Publications, 1986)

children at an FWBO Buddha Day festival in Brighton

There is some debate as to how Western Buddhist groups should

educate their children, as one Buddhist observes:
Parents think different things about what we should do.
Some think it should be like a Buddhist Sunday school.
Others think we should leave them completely alone. My
view is that I don’t want to inject children with adult
ideas. I want them to grow up with some healthy
appreciation of the law of karma, of cause and effect; a
healthy appreciation of others and that there is more to
life than the material surface. There’s a depth to life. What
I don’t want is a dead Dharma being injected in some way
into children.
(FWBO member)
Death and dying
Death and dying are of particular significance in the Buddhist
world view, because they are part of the cycle of rebirth, and
therefore directly connected to birth itself (rather than being at
the other end of life’s events). It is important to die well, but also
to live every moment as if it were one’s last. This is not a morbid
outlook. As one Tibetan teacher has said, ‘Death is a great
adventure’. Of course, fear of death does induce morbidity, and
Buddhism addresses this issue. All is impermanent in the
samsaric realm, and we must accept that. Rebirth is a
consequence of this impermanence. Death is the event in the
chain of cause and effect that induces rebirth. Sogyal Rimpoche,
a Tibetan Lama who has written on the subject of death and
dying, examines the issue thus:
At the moment of death our life becomes clear. Death is
our greatest teacher. But, unfortunately, people in the West
think of death only when they are dying. That is a little bit
late.
He also makes the point that:
Life is nothing but changes, which are little deaths.
(Interview in the Observer 22 November 1992, p 55)
These teachings are complemented by Ajahn Sumedho in talking
about khamma (kharma) and rebirth:
By being mindful we free ourselves from the burden of
birth and death, the habitually recreating pattern of
khamma and rebirth. We recognize the boring, habitual
re-creations of unsatisfactoriness, the obsessions with
worry, doubt, fear, greed, hatred and delusion in all its
forms. When we’re mindful, there’s no attachment to
ideas and memories of self, and creativity is spontaneous.
(Ajahn Sumedho, Cittaviveka, Amaravati
Publications, 1987, p 92)
Cleverness, of course, is concerned with how we make progress
in the world in our present lifetime. Wisdom is about how we
understand the prospect of living well in a wider context. And
perhaps the advice given to Siddhartha by the Buddha in Herman
Hesse’s book is directly applicable here: ‘Cleverness is good, but
patience is better.’
This points to the need to accept and learn from the inevitable
results of our karma, of which impermanence and dying are a
part. In The Tibetan Book of the Dead, an account of how to
approach death, and the journey to rebirth, emphasizes this event
as a creative and practical process focused on mindfulness,
through which ignorance can be overcome.

Such a positive approach to the inevitable event of death

complements the work of hospice movements, and is borne out
in Sogyal Rimpoche’s statement that what we need to ask is,
‘How can I help someone who is dying?’ and ‘Can you help
someone who has already died?’

Funeral rites
When a person is dying it is usual for a monk or lay person to
recite appropriate scriptures to them, to remind them of the
Buddha’s teaching and to calm their mind. In Tibetan Buddhism
The Tibetan Book of the Dead is often read to prepare the dying
person for the journey through the bardo state, from this life to
the next, with the hope that it will result in either liberation or a
meritorious rebirth. It is important for the dying person to know
that the state of mind in which they die will influence their
rebirth.

At funerals, monks conduct the services, giving a talk and chant¬

ing scriptures on the theme of impermanence and the transitory
nature of life. The ceremony does not dwell on bereavement, but
on the qualities of the dead person. In the Soto Zen tradition the
funeral is an ordination ceremony, in which the dead person’s
faith can be strengthened to help him or her face the Eternal
Buddha without fear.
The relatives of the deceased person have a duty to arrange a
memorial service with an alms offering at a temple or a
monastery, or at home. This ceremony is meant to confer the
transfer of merit to the deceased person. On anniversaries of
death similar ceremonies may also be arranged. Relatives may
also make gifts of money, books or objects to the temple or
monastery.

The usual way of disposing of the body is by cremation. When

great teachers die it is usual to preserve their relics in the same
way as the Buddha’s, and to distribute them to monasteries or
centres set up by that teacher, where a stupa will be built to house
them. These may then become centres of pilgrimage and be
regarded as holy shrines. This has been done recently with two
teachers who established branches of the Buddhist tradition in
the West: the Thai teacher Ajahn Chah and the Tibetan Lama
Yeshe. In both cases, relics and stupas can be found at centres
which they founded in Western countries.

Chorten (stupa) at Sarnath

Ajahn Chah’s Funeral

On 16 January 1993 the body of Ajahn Chah was burned
in a beautiful furnace specially built at the monastery
where he had lived and taught. It was inside a great white
circular building called a chedi or stupa which had a large
arched doorway facing each of the four directions.

People came from all over the country and from abroad to
climb the steps and go inside the stupa to see the ornate
 mother-of-pearl coffin in which Ajahn Chah’s body had
143
been kept for exactly a year since he died. (It had been
specially treated so that it would keep that long and give <D
everyone a chance to pay their respects to such a special </>
O
O
person.) S'

o
Nearly half a million people including the King of a
o
Thailand, the Sangharaj (the head of the Thai Sangha) and
Luang Por Sumedho assembled by the stupa to chant
blessings, listen to talks, and sit in quiet reflection for
many hours that day and night. At midnight the furnace
was lit and many climbed the steps to see this final
moment of Ajahn Chah’s physical existence. White smoke
curled out of the top of the tower on the stupa and drifted
into the sky.

(Rainbows Magazine, Amaravati Publications, 1993, p 3)

After three days, a chosen number of bhikkhus presided
over the extraction of the relics from the crematory. Most
were locked up for safe-keeping; three large relics, white
and honeycombed like coral, were placed on the shrine for
public view. When we left, the Sangha were still using the
chedi for their group meditation practice.

(Forest Sangha Newsletter, Amaravati Publications,

No. 234, April 1993, p 5)

Rebirth
In the Tibetan tradition, when a great teacher dies, a search is
made for his tulku, or reincarnation, at the request of the Dalai
Lama. Lama Yeshe’s tulku was found to be the son of two of his
Spanish disciples. Once this identity is established the child will
be brought up and educated according to Tibetan practice, in the
belief that he will continue the work he performed in his previous
life.
The procedure for finding a tulku is established in Tibetan lore.
This account of the search for the present Dalai Lama (the
fourteenth) serves as an example.
Lama Yeshe and his tulku

Searching for the Dalai Lama

After certain signs had been observed as to the direction and
location in which he would be found, over a period of two
years, and official group was sent out to find him. They carried
with them objects that belonged to the thirteenth Dalai Lama.
They disguised themselves and visited houses in which they
might find the child. Eventually they came to a house that
corresponded to one seen in a vision of the Regent concerning
the child. The two-year-old boy in the house was subjected to
the prescribed examination:

He was first shown four different rosaries, one of which -

the most worn - had belonged to the thirteenth Dalai
Lama. The boy, who was quite unconstrained and not the
least bit shy, chose the right one without hesitation and
danced round the room with it. He also selected out of
several drums one which the last Incarnation had used to
call his servants. Then he took an old walking-stick, which
had also belonged to him, not deigning to bestow a glance
on one which had a handle of ivory and silver.

(Heinrich Harrer, Seven Years in Tibet,

Rupert Hart-Davies, 1953, pp 269-70)
In this way the present Dalai Lama was found.
The idea that the dying teacher knows of his own rebirth is part
of the uncanny logic of this whole process, to which we cannot
all be privy. When Lama Yeshe met the parents of his tulku, prior
to his death, he is said to have given a small pearl to the mother
with the words, ‘This is for your next child.’

‘But I have enough children already,’ she replied, ‘I shan’t be

having another, fifth child.’
He gave her the pearl saying, ‘Just in case, wait and see.’
ceremonies

In this chapter you will learn:

• about the different kinds of
Buddhist festivals and
ceremonies, the reasons for
them and the ways they are
celebrated
• about the cultural influences
on festivals celebrated in
different countries.
There is great diversity in the range of Buddhist festivals and
147
ceremonies because Buddhism has spread into a number of very
different cultures in the course of its history. Nevertheless, they
tend to focus on the Buddha Sakyamuni, the significant events in
if
his life, his teachings and the Buddhist community. What differs II
is the way in which these events are celebrated, for each culture
brings to them its own particular style and form and a specific
n
calendar year. For this reason, it is best to divide Buddhist
festivals into four main groups, representing the Theravada
tradition, the Tibetan tradition, the Chinese-Japanese tradition
and the Western Buddhist Order.
All Buddhist religious festivals follow the lunar calendar, and
most of the important ones are celebrated on full-moon days.
Knowing exactly when a particular festival will occur is not such
an easy task. The solar calendar varies year by year, so just like
Easter in the Christian tradition, Buddhist festival days fall on
moveable dates. Buddhists rely on printed calendars for their
information, and the festival celebration itself will occur on the
appropriate full-moon day (or sometimes on the weekend closest
to it in non-Buddhist countries).

Theravada festivals
The traditional importance of monastic orders in Buddhism has
a strong influence on the character of Theravada festivals. The
monastic calendar is marked by two important events: uposatta
days, which occur weekly, and the Rains Retreat, which occurs
annually. Devout lay people may also follow the monks’
observance of uposatta days.

Uposatta days
Originally, uposatta days were times when monks met on the
full moon and new moon to re-affirm their monastic code and
confess their shortcomings to one another. They subsequently
developed into days of religious observance for lay people as
well. Occurring weekly, they function in a similar way to the
Sabbath in Judeo-Christian practice, but since the full moon is
the most auspicious day (because it marks the Buddha’s birth,
enlightenment and death), this is treated as far more important
than the others, with the new moon also being more significant
than the other two.
 It is worth noting how full-moon observance actually keeps
148
Buddhists in touch with natural rhythms as well; this is not just
coincidental, for samsara is a notion that unites the cycles of the
|| natural world with those of human destiny. The moon acts as a
symbolic reminder of both the samsaric round of human life and
§ »
o » the presence of the dharma, or truth made available by the
w i.
Buddha, which is also ever-present. Thus the full moon gains a
magical quality, pointing to the need for diligence and offering the
hope of liberation.

The pattern of observance on these days involves visiting a

monastery or temple, listening to the teaching given by a monk,
chanting from the scriptures, taking part in meditation and re¬
affirming the precepts. For a devout lay person this is an
opportunity to gain merit by performing acts of generosity,
donating money to the monastery and showing reverence to the
Buddha, through performing acts of devotion before buddha
images. Another common practice is to take the Eight Precepts
for the day, rather than the usual five, and to pursue the precepts
more diligently. So, for example, they may abstain from eating
meat or fish, practise sexual abstinence, not eat after noon or
forego the use of adornments and usual forms of entertainment.
In short, they are re-acquainting themselves with the renunciant
life, behaving temporarily like members of the monastic order.
Buddhist festivals tend to be less a matter of festivity, more a
matter of remembrance and re-affirmation.

New Year
Occurring on 13 April (Western calendar) in Sri Lanka and
Thailand, but on the 16 April in Burma, this festival is really
secular, and often somewhat irreverent, but socially significant.
In Sri Lanka it operates rather like the Western Christmas. It is a
time for visiting relatives and friends and giving presents; in
Burma and in Laos people buy and release fish as an act of
compassion. In Thailand it is a water-throwing festival.
Veneration is also shown to Buddha images, revered teachers and
respected grandfathers, by sprinkling or bathing them with
water. The festivities continue for three days. Temporary sand
stupas are erected in temple grounds, which are later levelled to
create new sand surfaces. Robes are placed on Buddha images
and are used afterwards by the monks. Pranks are also played,
for it has its light-hearted side.
Wesak 149
ft
Wesak celebrates the Buddha’s birth, enlightenment and death, «*%

which are all, according to Buddhist tradition, supposed to have § |

occurred on the same day of the year; as such, this is the most I §.
§ w
important Theravadin festival. It takes place on the full-moon
day of the second month in the Indian year, which, in the w i
Western calendar, occurs in late May or early June. The Indian
name for this month is Vaishakha, which, translated into
Sinhalese, becomes Wesak, and in Thai, Visakha. Thus the
festival is named after the month. Emphasis is placed on the
enlightenment of the Buddha, which is the pre-eminent event,
since it marks the point at which the dharma was rediscovered
by the historical Buddha Sakyamuni. It is customary to put up
decorations in local temples and to light lamps after dark,
symbolizing enlightenment coming into the world. Wesak
lanterns are made by pasting thin paper over light wooden
frames. At temples Bodhi trees and stupas are often ringed with
oil lamps, and people send Wesak cards to their friends, rather
like Christmas cards. These usually depict memorable events in
the Buddha’s life.
Other activities are reminiscent of lesser Buddhist festivals, with
lay people visiting local temples or monasteries, listening to
darsanas and staying up through the night in meditation. In the
Thai tradition, it is customary to circumambulate the monastery
three times, recognizing the importance of the Buddha, dharma
and sangha (the Three Jewels). Observance of the precepts in a
more rigorous way also entails abstaining from agriculture or
other occupations which may harm small living creatures. Dana
(generosity) is also encouraged, which results in lay families often
bringing sumptuous dishes to the monastery or temple in
recognition of their duty to the monastic order, and as a further
way of expressing the festive spirit of the occasion and the
importance of the whole sangha. This also confers merit. In
Burma, though it is not recognized as a festival of light, as in Sri
Lanka, the importance of the occasion is marked by watering the
Bodhi tree in a local monastery or temple.
At this point it is worth reflecting on the significance of festivals
for Buddhists; which do not necessarily parallel their importance
in the Christian tradition. For example, even the pre-eminent
festival of Wesak is not necessarily seen as of great importance
for Buddhists, in the context of striving for enlightenment and
moral improvement, as the following passage indicates:
 Wesak is all right: it’s a day which commemorates the
150
birth, the Enlightenment, and the passing away of the
o ©
© to Buddha. But why make extra effort for one particular day?
© mm n
< For the feeble-minded, perhaps a day like that would be of
3 ©
o to much benefit. But to me, every day should be a day of
3
© ©
effort - should be such a day. Why just one particular day?
to 3
a
(John Bowker, Worlds of Faith, BBC, 1983, p 159)

<o

a Buddhist family at Wesak with dana for the monks and nuns

Poson
Poson is a peculiarly Sri Lankan festival which occurs on the
next full-moon day after Wesak, in June or July. On this day, in
the year 250 BCE, the emperor Ashoka’s son, Mahinda, who was
a Buddhist monk, is supposed to have arrived in Sri Lanka to
convert the island to Buddhism. Religious processions, called
perahara, are organized, in which a particularly venerated person
or object is conducted through the town, with great pomp and
noise made especially with drums and fireworks. Often an image
of Mahinda is constructed and placed on a cart or float-like
vehicle. At Mihintale, near the ancient capital of Anuradhapura,
where Mahinda is said to have arrived, these festivities are at
their grandest.
Asala 151
Asala, normally in July, marks the beginning of the Rains Retreat o
<D <D
(called Vas in Sinhalese) and recalls the preaching of the O |
3 <SL
Buddha’s first sermon, the Turning of the Wheel of the Law. o
3 (0
Since this marks the beginning of the Buddha’s ministry, monks <D Q>
0) a.
3
preach sermons recalling the event. In the latter half of the month
Sri Lankans stage the Asola Perahara, a spectacular procession in
which the relic of the Buddha’s tooth is processed through the
streets of Kandy. Relics of the Buddha, or of great Buddhist
teachers, are usually to be found wherever Buddhist missionary
activity has founded new centres. But the history of this event is
primarily nationalistic rather than religious. This ceremony
marks the importance of Buddhist identity within Sinhalese
nationalism, acting as a display of the legitimacy of the power of
the king. The legacy of this is a contemporary exhibition of a
distinctively Sri Lankan festival, with sumptuously decorated
elephants, dancers, festivity and fireworks that have the
character of a mardi-gras. It is a local pageant which really has
little to do with Buddhist ideals and is the prerogative of the laity
rather than monks.

Rains Retreat
The Buddha preached and spent his life travelling northern India
and throughout the sub-continent in general. Life is regulated
between the months of June or July through to the end of
September by the monsoons. Travel during this season was, at
the least, uncomfortable and often practically impossible. It
became a habitual practice that during these periods wandering
monks would settle down in one sheltered place. This developed
into the strict monastic rule that monks would not leave their
monastery during this period, and this provided a time for more
intense devotional practice. Correspondingly, today the normal
availability of monks to the laity is curtailed.

At the end of the retreat, monks hold a special ceremony

confessing any fault or offence, and asking forgiveness of their
fellow order members. On the final day of the retreat, or within
the following month, the relationship with the laity is re¬
established with the Kathina ceremony.
In Burma and Thailand lay men often take temporary ordination
at the beginning of the retreat and live as monks for the next
three months. There are also no Burmese weddings during this
period. At the end of the retreat the Burmese celebrate the festival
 of Thitingyut, which lasts three days and is their festival of lights.
152
Everyone is expected to visit elder relations and friends, to pay
o
o respects and give small gifts. Lamps are put up (traditionally
a s
3 e5
consisting of candles inside paper lanterns) all over the house and
o on shrines of local deities (nats), in big trees, which are specially
3 <0
<D fi) venerated, and around stupas. The lights are said to illuminate
0) 3a
and welcome the Buddha’s descent from heaven after preaching
to his mother. In Thailand lay people use candles to light lamps
in the monastery, which will burn for the three months of the
retreat.

Kathina ceremony
Held in October or November of the Western calendar, Kathina
is organized by lay people in order to present monks with new
robes. One robe is ceremonially presented as the Kathina robe to
the head of the monastery, to be given to the monk who is, at
least in theory, to be the most virtuous. He will be chosen by the
abbot. This story illustrates the origins of the practice:
The scriptures relate that thirty monks were travelling
together with the intention of spending the retreat season
with the Buddha. However, when the full moon of July
(the start of the retreat) arrived, they had not reached their
destination, and according to custom they were required
to stay where they were. So, it is told, the monks were
disappointed, and spent the three-month retreat away
from their teacher.

At the end of the retreat the monks finished their journey

to see the Buddha. Coming to hear of their
disappointment, he was moved to give them a teaching
that would uplift and inspire them. He suggested that they
should make a new robe together. The lay supporters
living near the Buddha gladly offered cloth and the monks
set about sewing a robe. In those days the method used
involved spreading the pieces of cloth on a frame and
stitching them together. This frame was called a kathina.

(Bhikkhu Thitapanne, The Kathina Festival, in C. Erricker

and V. Barnett (eds), World Religions in Education:
Festivals, The Shap Working Party, 1987, p 21)

The robe is made, according to ceremonial prescription, by

sewing patches together in such a way as is said to imitate the
patchwork of the paddy fields familiar to the early monks on
their travels. The community first presents the cloth for the robe,
which is marked, cut out and sewn by the monks on the same
153
day, before being given back to the laity for presentation.
2 <5*
Another meaning given to the word ‘kathina’ is ‘difficult’, which
3|
suggests the arduousness of the vocation of a disciple of the
Buddha, and the tenacity required to follow the dhamma.
H«
3
5 “
The robe-giving ceremony is also a reminder of the w a
interdependence of the monastic order and the laity; the monks
offer spiritual example and teaching to lay followers and, in
return, the laity satisfy the mendicants’ basic needs. This
interdependence was stressed by the Buddha, and has certainly
been a vital factor in the survival and continuation of Buddhism
as a living tradition. Its importance is highlighted by the fact that
this ceremony is the only one involving the laity that gains its
authority from the earliest Buddhist scriptures.

This sensitive description of the robe-giving ceremony, by a

British Buddhist, conveys its essential meaning:

Now began one of the simplest and most moving

ceremonies that I have been privileged to witness. The
Kathina robe was presented on its own special stand in
front of the Shrine and the resident Bhikkhu was invited
to receive it. The reverence of the ritual by which the
recipient made that robe his own shed a whole new light
on the significance and virtue of giving. The robe was
unwrapped and examined as if each fold and thread was
to be personally known.

Next the robe was marked in one corner. The significance

of this action has been lost over the years. It could be that
the marks were originally a means of identifying the robe,
serving the purpose of a name tag. Or it is possibly a
deliberate defacing of the newness of the robe, making it
come with built-in wear and tear and therefore, losing the
sense of pride that new things invariably bring. Finally, the
new robe was placed between the folds of the old robe and
the two were stroked together. The symbolism of this
action was as if the one was being made a natural
continuation of the other. The new robe became endowed
with the qualities of the old - the one was never actually
cast aside and the other never actually replacing. The two
merged as a continuance of purpose.

(Gwen Nodder, First Make Your Shrine, in C. Erricker

and V. Barnett (eds), World Religions in Education:
Festivals, The Shap Working Party, 1987, pp 22-3)
 Burmese custom emphasizes that girls weave the monks’ robes.
154
Along with the robes, toy trees are offered, representing the

If mythical trees of heaven. On their branches the lay people pin

banknotes, as an offering to the monastery.
II
n Loi Kratong
Loi Kratong is the main Thai festival of lights, held on the full
moon of November. Like Asala in Sri Lanka, this is not centred
on the temple, and has only tenuous connections with Buddhist
origins. Gates and doors of houses are decorated with palm
leaves, banana stalks, coloured lanterns, lamps and candles. The
monastery grounds are similarly decorated with paper flags and
sets depicting scenes from the Vessantara Jataka recalling the
previous life of the Buddha as the compassionate Prince
Vessantara, and his selfless generosity. There are also offerings to
the river spirits, consisting of floating trays with lighted candles,
coins and food. In return for these the spirits will rid people of
misfortunes. These offerings are processed to the rivers
accompanied by fireworks, drums and gongs. The river comes
alive, the variety of craft launched upon it ranging from huge
floats to tiny trays of plaited banana leaves.

Ajahn Sumedho, a Theravadin monk, wearing robes

Magha Puja 155
This Thai festival marks All Saints’ Day, or Dharma Day. It o
0 0
(fi
commemorates an event three months before the Buddha’s death 0

when, before 1,250 of his enlightened disciples, he predicted his

3
o I
3 0)
demise and gave them the Vinaya (the code of discipline for the 0 0)
(A 3
monastic sangha), which all monks are now supposed to recite a
every fortnight. In Northern Thailand and Laos this day is the
festival of lights, when the Vessantara Jataka is read through in
one day. It is also marked by a great fair.

Tibetan festivals
Tibet provides a distinctive culture for Buddhist life, and the
terms ‘Tibetan’ and ‘Buddhist’ are synonymous within the
Tibetan world. Before the invasion of Tibet by China in 1959,
little was known of this way of life, but since then, Tibetan
Buddhism has established itself in India and across Europe and
the United States, with the diaspora led by the present,
fourteenth, Dalai Lama and a number of important Buddhist
teachers, or lamas, around whom communities have grown. The
centre of ‘Tibet in exile’ is the small town of McLeod Gange,
above Dharamsala in the Indian foothills of the Himalayas,
where the Dalai Lama has his palace.
The Tibetan calendar is lunar and divided into twelve months; to
keep in step with the solar year it is necessary to add a month
during certain years. To keep in phase with the moon some
months are less than thirty days. Some Tibetan festivals
commemorate the usual events related to the Buddha’s life;
others have a peculiarly Tibetan significance.

Losar
Losar is Tibetan New Year, which falls in February. Lasting for
fifteen days, it commemorates the Buddha’s early life, through to
his enlightenment and his efforts to establish the dharma during
his teaching career. Within Tibet monks sat their examinations for
higher degrees on the fourth day, called the Great Prayer (Monlam
Cheamo). The fifteenth day is the full-moon day, Cbortga Chopa,
when Tibetan culture comes into its own with the remarkable
butter sculptures for which it is famous. These are usually of scenes
in the Buddha’s life, coloured with different dyes. Tibetans also put
on puppet shows on the same themes. Traditionally, the monks of
two famous monasteries called the Upper Tantric School (Gyuto)
and Lower Tantric School (Gyume) are responsible for these
 displays. They are now located in India, and the celebrations take
156
place in Dharamsala.
o
<D </>
<S H* The sense of the New Year as a time of trial and conquest in the
3 < Buddha’s life is echoed in the Tibetans’ understanding of its
o (A
3
<5‘ fl) significance for them. It is a time of overcoming and renewal, as
V) 3
a. this commentary on its rituals and celebrations taking place at
Dharamsala shows:
The New Year must be borne decisively from out of the
ashes of the old. Negative thoughts, deeds, and
misfortunes accumulated during the previous year are
purged from community, home, and individual lives
through prescribed rituals by clergy and members of the
household.

The ushering in of losar, the New Year, begins on the

evening of the twenty-ninth day of the last month of the
old year. Tibetan friends and family gather together to
partake of gutuk, the ‘special nine soups’. Contained
within are sculpted and stuffed dumplings, which signify
the fortunes for the coming year of every person present.
The person who chooses a dumpling stuffed with salt
might gain renown and lead a virtuous life during the
coming twelve moons. Whoever gets the chilli pepper will
be angry and argumentative. And woe be it to he or she
with the lump of charcoal, for that person will be cursed
with a black heart. This provides many laughs for most
and frowns for a few.

Each person finishes all but a little of his soup. The

leftovers, along with old food, coins, pieces of clothing
lint, a candle, and a khatag greeting-scarf are put together
into a large bowl along with a humanoid-shaped torma
sculpture known as lu. These serve as ransom offerings to
attract the accrued evil and misfortune of the past year
away from the household. The men carry the items to a
lonely spot along the road by torchlight, crying ‘Come
out! Come out!’ to the evils. The job done, they quickly
return without ever looking back, for to do so would
cause the evil to return with them. This act, it occurs to
me, is a powerful metaphor to a central notion in the
Tibetan experience, that one must continue on life’s path
without looking back. ‘No attachments, no regrets’, a
lama once observed.

(Peter Gold, Tibetan Reflections, Wisdom Publications,

1984, pp 82-3)
Following this, a procession of monks carries special New Year
157
zor tormas, which are huge constructions in which the o
community’s bad karma of the previous year is symbolically (D <D
W
enclosed by ritual prayers. On top of these conical edifices are 3 <
o 2L
death’s heads. The torma is paraded towards a large mound of 3 c/>
O 0)
straw, a pyre on which the physical manifestation of evil will be V) 3
o.
burned.
Tibetan New Year has its own special place in the calendar and,
as on other celebratory occasions, the Tibetan love of colour and
ritual is evidenced by an abundance of coloured prayer flags and
the sounds of Tibetan instruments.

Saga Dawa
This festival, held on the fifteenth day of the fourth month (the
full moon of May in the Gregorian or Western calendar),
recognizes the Buddha’s birth, enlightenment and death (the
equivalent of Wesak). This is the strictest observance day in the
Tibetan calendar, when no meat is eaten and lamps are lit
everywhere. Circumambulation is another feature of this festival;
devotion is shown by going round Buddhist monuments in a
clockwise direction, by means of prostration - measuring out the
distance with the body and standing where the head faced the
ground in a continuously repeated process. Devout Buddhists
will also take a vow to fast and be silent for seven days, which
symbolizes both the significance of abstinence in Buddhist
practice and the Buddha’s passing.

Dzamling Chisang
This is a day of purification which falls on the full-moon day of
the fifth month (June). Fire offerings are made to guardian spirits
who protect individuals, families and places of importance and
who act as national deities. Shrines are erected next to Buddhist
temples. Tibetan belief in spirits goes back to their bon ancestry
(the indigenous religion preceding Buddhism). The spirits are
seen as having been converted to Buddhism and becoming its
protectors. Since they are vegetarian, burnt offerings are made of
favourite Tibetan dishes such as roast barley mixed with butter,
and Tibetan sweets. The offerings are made by lay people, who
abstain from meat for three days beforehand.
158 Chokhor
o © This festival commemorates the Buddha’s first sermon, the
© w
© #-► Turning of the Wheel of the Law. Occurring in June or July, on
3 <■
o ©© the fourth day of the sixth month, it is a summer festival,
3
© o> associated in the Tibetan climate with fine weather and colourful
V)3
a celebration. The community would carry xylographs, scriptures
engraved on long, rectangular wooden blocks, and statues, in
great processions with a carnival atmosphere. This signified the
spread of the dharma through the Buddha’s teaching. Afterwards
there would be picnics, often with traditional Tibetan brew of
change an equivalent of beer based on the fermenting of wheat,
which facilitated hospitality and festivity.

Lhabap
On the twenty-second of the ninth month (October), Tibetans
celebrate the Buddha’s descent from the Tushita heaven where he
preached to his mother. It occurs at the same time as the end of
the Rains Retreat in Theravada countries. It represents his return
to earth, when temples are visited and feasts occur.

Ngacho Chenmo
This event is the anniversary of the death of Tsongkhapa on the
twenty-fifth day of the tenth month, falling in November.
Tsongkhapa founded the Yellow Hat School of Tibetan
Buddhism, which includes the Upper and Lower Tantric Schools.
Possibly the most influential figure in Tibetan Buddhism,
Tsongkhapa was a monk famous for his learning and the
strictness of his monastic discipline. As a mark of mourning,
Tibetans eat a special porridge containing lumps of dough, and
lamps are lit in his memory. In Lhasa, his image used to be
carried in a torchlight procession. This day also marks the end of
the Rains Retreat period, when new robes are offered to monks.

Guru Rimpoche’s birthday

Guru Rimpoche’s birthday occurs in July, and celebrates one of
the greatest of Tibetan figures. The title means ‘precious teacher’,
and was given to Padmasambhava, who converted many
Tibetans to the practice of Buddhism as one of the first Indians
to bring the dharma to Tibet. It is celebrated with a tsok
ceremony; food and light are offered to the Buddha in beautifully
decorated shrine rooms in which highly colourful pictures,
known as tbangkas, hang round the walls, and statues of
159
buddhas are placed around the room. Flowers and incense also o <D
create a celebratory atmosphere, in which chanting and silent a
(3
meditation take place. At the end of the ceremony food which 3 <■
m
o
has been offered is shared amongst the worshippers. 3 to
fi>
O
to 3
The following description of a statue of the guru in the a
Himalayan hillside around Dharamsala recalls his significance
for Tibetan Buddhists:

A huge, glaring statue of the guru himself sits carved into

eighteen feet of gilded rock. A dorje (thunderbolt-scepter)
is held incisively in one hand, skull staff in the other. Huge
eyes pierce one with the legendary power he manifested to
the independent mountain people to the north, powerful
enough to consolidate their beliefs and enlist their native
gods into a distinctively Tibetan form of Buddhism.

(Peter Gold, Tibetan Reflections,

Wisdom Publications, 1984, p 76)

Stories of Padmasambhava recall his great power, and sometimes

miraculous feats, as with this episode occurring in the present-
day Indian village of Rewalsar:

There he meditated in a cave high over a massive valley,

and took one of the local king’s daughters as his consort.
The king of Zahor, being angered by his daughter’s
uncomely behaviour, condemned Padmasambhava to be
burned alive. The fire was ignited but he was not even
scorched. And the flames, turning into water, overspilled
to form a beautiful oval lake which Tibetans call
Tsopema, the Lotus Lake.

(Peter Gold, Tibetan Reflections,

Wisdom Publications, 1984, p 75)

Japanese and Chinese festivals

Buddhist influence has waned in China since its peak 1,000 years
ago, when it combined with Taoist and Confucian indigenous
tradition. In recent history, the Maoist revolution and China’s
present communist government have repressed Buddhist
practice, but not eradicated it. It still survives, particularly in the
provinces close to Tibet. Though the Western calendar is
influential today, the Chinese still use lunar months, which
operate in a similar way to the Tibetan system. Chinese tradition
 is especially concerned with the remembrance of dead ancestors
160
and the celebration of birthdays, and this influences their

§i Buddhist festivals.

ii Japan received Buddhism via China, so it is not surprising to find

n similarities, though variations of Buddhism in Japan have

flourished in connection with Shinto, the earlier Japanese
religion (which bears similarity with Confucianism in its respect
for ancestors, and filial and state order are of great importance).
The two main festivals in both countries share common themes.
The names referred to here are the Japanese versions.

Gautama Buddha’s birth

This is known as Hana Matsuri in Japan, where the Buddha’s
enlightenment and death are remembered separately. It occurs on
8 April, and, correspondingly in the Chinese calendar, on the
eighth day of the fourth month. The themes of flowers and water
are prevalent, reflecting the mythology of the Buddha’s birth
itself:

The beautiful queen Mahamaya had a dream. She saw a

young white elephant with six great tusks descend from
the sky and enter her womb. The gods told her that she
was going to give birth to a son which would become a
buddha. The queen told her husband the news and they
were both very happy. When the time for the birth of the
child was close, the queen decided to travel to her parents’
house, as was the custom at that time. On the way she
visited a beautiful garden called Lumbini Grove. The
garden was full of flowers and singing birds. Suddenly, the
queen started to give birth and so the Buddha was born in
a beautiful, flowering garden.

After the birth two streams of water appeared from the

sky. One was cool and refreshing; the other was warm and
perfumed. They bathed the Buddha and his mother.

The infant Buddha stood up as soon as he was born.

Shaded by a white parasol held over him by the gods, he
faced north and took seven steps. Then, looking in each of
the other directions, he said, T am the chief in the world,
I am the best in the world. This is my last birth, I will not
be born again.’

(Peter and Holly Connolly, Religions Through Festivals:

Buddhism, Longman, 1989, p 32)
At Japanese temples different aspects of the story are shown in
161
displays:

A large papier-mache white elephant reminds people of <d q.

the queen’s marvellous dream. The infant Buddha stands, 1»
3
“
to remind people that he could walk as soon as he was
born and the setting represents the Lumbini Grove. Bowls W Q.
of delicately perfumed tea are poured on to the Buddha’s
image by Japanese Buddhist children. This is a way of
honouring the Buddha and remembering that the gods
provided perfumed water from heaven for his first bath.

(Peter and Holly Connolly, Religions Through Festivals:

Buddhism, Longman, 1989, p 33)

The festival coincides with the flowering of the cherry blossom in

Japan, and stalls selling food and gifts are set up in temple
courtyards. Folk dancing and acrobatics form part of the
celebrations.
The following description of a Chinese ceremony also recalls the
bathing of the Buddha by the gods:

After hymns and offerings the monks poured spoonfuls of

water over a tiny image of the infant Sakyamuni, standing
in a low basin of water. Sometimes each of the [lay]
visitors was allowed to pour a spoonful too.
(Holmes Welch, The Practice of Chinese Buddhism,
in Alan Brown (ed.), Festivals in World Religions,
Longman, 1986, pp 57-8)

The Festival of the Hungry Ghosts

This festival honours dead ancestors. According to Buddhist
cosmology, samsara is divided into realms, through which living
beings pass. The realm of the hungry ghosts is one of these. In
effect it parallels All Soul’s Day, but with special significance due
to the importance of ancestors in Japanese and Chinese tradition.
Occurring in July, or the seventh month in the Chinese calendar
(July or August), it lasts for three and seven days, in Japan and
China respectively. It recalls the story of Maudgalyayana, or Mu-
lien, one of the Buddha’s chief disciples who had special powers,
through which he was able to visit other realms. On one of his
journeys he found his mother in one of the hells. In some versions
she is described as one of the hungry ghosts, who typically suffer
from distended stomachs and tiny mouths (illustrating their
 incapacity to satisfy their desires). The story recounts that he
162
saved her by offering a feast to all buddhas and monks, and by
o ©
(D virtue of this act of merit she was raised out of hell by the Buddha
%
O mm d

3 W
< using a rope.
o
3 (A
<5* fi) The theme of this story is mirrored in the following Chinese
y> 3
a ceremony of the ‘release of the burning mouths’, performed on
the full-moon day:
This was a Tantric ritual lasting about five hours and
always held in the evening when it was easier for hungry
ghosts to go abroad. The presiding monks wore red and
golden hats in the shape of a five-pointed crown. Before
them was a collection of magical instruments - mirrors,
sceptres, spoons, and so on. The monks assisting them -
usually six to eighteen - were equipped with ... bells
(which sounded, when rung together, rather like a team of
reindeer). In the first half of the ceremony the celebrants
invoked the help of the Three Jewels. In the second half
they broke through the gates of hell, where, with their
instruments and magic gestures, they opened the throats
of the sufferers and fed them sweet dew, that is, water
made holy by reciting a [prayer] over it. They purged
away their sins, administered the Three Refuges [declaring
one’s trust in the Three Jewels], and caused them to take
the Bodhisattva resolve. Finally they preached the dharma
[the Buddha’s teachings] to them. If all this was properly
done, the ghosts could be immediately reborn as men or
even in the Western Paradise.

(Holmes Welch, The Practice of Chinese Buddhism,

in Alan Brown (ed.), Festivals in World Religions,
Longman, 1986, p 57)

In Japan fairs take place with food, shows, dancing and games -
especially tug-of-war, a reminder to them of the Maudagalyayana
story. Ancient Japanese customs are included. On the first day of
the festival, 13 July, freshly gathered herbs are placed in front of
the family shrine, candles are lit and food is offered to attract the
spirits of ancestors into the homes. On 14 July families celebrate
the reunion of their ancestors with the living with traditional folk
dances. Buddhist monks visit homes and read scriptures before
the shrines as a mark of respect. On 15 July the spirits return to
the other realms, and fruit and flowers are offered to the Buddha
with requests for blessings on the family and ancestors in future
life.
Western Buddhist festivals 163
o o
The Friends of the Western Buddhist Order celebrate the <D (A
O
Buddhist year with three main festivals: Buddha Day, Dharma 3 <’
Day and Sangha Day, representing the Three Jewels. o SL
3 </>
o o>
3
Buddha Day is held on the full moon in May, and celebrates the </> a
Buddha’s enlightenment. Dharma Day is in July, and Sangha Day
in November, according with Kathina. These are times for the
Western Buddhist Order to come together with friends or mitras,
interested Westerners are also welcome. The gatherings take
place in FWBO centres, which are usually large houses or halls
converted to Buddhist purposes. Ceremonies take place in a
shrine room, decorated for the occasion, and include a talk from CO
a senior Order member, a puja with chanting and meditation,
and the sharing of food. Sometimes special events are held for
children. Mitra ceremonies are often held after the puja on
Dharma Day, when new members of the community, wishing to
affirm their commitment do so by taking the Three Jewels, and
offer flowers, candles and incense in front of the shrine. On
Sangha Day mitras make these same three offerings as a re¬
affirmation of their commitment.

shrine at FWBO festival, Buddha Day

today: east and

CD
c
a
a

In this chapter you will learn:

• about the spread of
Buddhism
• about the presence of
Buddhism across the world
• about how different types of
Buddhism are responding to
contemporary challenges
and influences.
The spread of Buddhism 165
0) co
Today Buddhists are spread across the world; however, as with
peoples of other faiths, such as Christianity, it is not always easy t 3=
to identify them.
Buddhist monks and nuns, who have been ordained into the o
a
monastic sangha, wear saffron robes if they belong to the South o>
*<
■ ■

East Asian (Theravada) tradition, maroon robes if they are <D

0)
Tibetan, and black robes if they are Zen monks. However, their V)

conspicuousness does not identify the far larger number of lay

Buddhists. We might say that to identify monastics as the whole
Buddhist community would be rather like identifying clergymen
as the sole representatives of Christianity. Let us briefly consider
the presence of Buddhism in Asia, the United Kingdom and the
United States today.

Buddhism in Asia
Buddhism began in India but, for reasons which will be
explained later, Buddhism eventually declined there and, through
missionary activity, spread north, south and east. Today the
tradition survives in India, largely through the conversion
movement of Dr Ambedka amongst the untouchables (or, as
Gandhi named them, harijans - Children of God) which has
expanded since its inception in 1956 to at least three and a half
million. India also hosts the larger number of Tibetans in exile
since the Chinese invasion of Tibet in 1959. (The Dalai Lama’s
residence is situated in the small town of McLeod Gange, near
Dharamsala in the Himalayan foothills, and this is regarded as
the centre of Tibetan Buddhism whilst exile continues). Apart
from Tibet, Buddhism still flourishes in Sri Lanka, Burma,
Thailand and Japan, though political change has affected its
presence in China, Korea, Cambodia and Vietnam - all of which
have a strong history of Buddhist influence.
Buddhism in the West has emerged, partly through immigrant
communities arriving in Europe and North America but also
through Westerners discovering Buddhism or becoming Buddhist
monks in Asia and returning to the West as part of Buddhist
missionary activity in the twentieth century and twenty-first
century.

Buddhism in the United Kingdom

Although Buddhist ideas were studied in late Victorian Britain,
the religion was brought to public attention by a Buddhist monk,
 Ananda Metteyya (the Englishman Alan Bennett). The Buddhist
166 Society of Great Britain and Ireland was founded in 1907 as a
0) oj
vehicle for his teaching. It was succeeded in 1924 by the present
a* Buddhist Society, the founder president of which was the late
II Judge Christmas Humphreys, who largely created the climate in
&§
which Buddhism began to take root and flourish in the West. In
©
a 1926 the London Buddhist Vihara was established in Chiswick,
as
<
•• West London - the earliest Buddhist temple in Britain.
A
to Since that time, many different branches of Buddhism have been
established, originating in such countries as Thailand, Tibet and
Japan. As a result, Britain today has a great variety of Buddhist
groups and communities - far more than would be found in any
one ‘traditionally Buddhist’ country. The Directory of Buddhist
Groups, produced by the Buddhist Society, reported 74 groups in
1979; eight years later there were 191, and this number has
continued to grow. The four largest are illustrated here.

The Theravada tradition is the branch of Buddhism predominant

in South East Asia and Sri Lanka. In Britain there are a number
of Theravadin communities. Those from Sir Lanka have their
main centre at the London Buddhist Vihara (monastic residence).
There is also a Thai Forest Retreat Order, established by the late
Ajahn Chah, with its main activities at ‘Amaravati’, a Buddhist
Monastery in Hertfordshire and ‘Cittaviveka’ in Sussex. The
names ‘Amaravati’ (meaning ‘deathless realm’) and ‘Cittaviveka’
(meaning ‘silent mind’) give clues to the aspirations of all
Buddhists. The monks and nuns in this order in Britain are
Western converts to Buddhism. There is also a Thai temple in the
London area, as well as a Burmese vihara.
The Tibetan tradition has all four of its branches represented in
Britain: the Manjushri Institute at Ulverstone, Cumbria, Samye
Ling Buddhist Centre at Eskdalemuir in Dumfriesshire, and the
Madhyamika Centre, near York, are the largest.
The Japanese Soto Zen tradition has a centre near Hexham in
Northumberland and a smaller centre in Reading, Berkshire.
There are also a number of affiliated groups around the country,
known as Serene Reflection Meditation Groups.

The Friends of the Western Buddhist Order was established in

Britain in 1967 by the Venerable Sangharakshita, an Englishman
formerly called Dennis Lingwood. He believed that it was
necessary to establish a form of Buddhism which was adapted to
the circumstances of the modern world. The largest centre in
Britain is the Buddhist Centre in Bethnal Green, East London.
Buddhism in the United States 167
In the United States Buddhist influence has been felt more keenly 0) Qj

in certain areas than in other Western countries. This is partly

£ §
due to its proximity to Asia on the west coast. At the end of the <D ~
nineteenth century, Japanese and Chinese families settled in
ft|
California; the Japanese also settled in Hawaii during the O
Cl
twentieth century after the enforcement of strict immigration 0)
«<
■ ■

laws in California in 1902. Hawaii also became the focus of <D

fl>
0)
Buddhist missionary activity in the United States, which in turn
led to temples and meditation centres being established on the
mainland. In the process of this transference from their original
cultural setting, Buddhists have adapted their organizations and
forms of service. Buddhist influence has also spread into
American cultural life, beyond classically Buddhist institutions,
through its attraction as a spiritual philosophy, and a meditative
practice.
To some degree, the spread of Buddhism in the United States -
especially along the west coast - has only a tentative relationship
with the religion as it has developed in traditionally Buddhist
countries, such as Japan. Young Western liberals, anxious to find
an alternative to establishment thinking, propagated Zen as a
life-enhancing but essentially individualistic philosophy of life.
This can be recognized, for example, in the writings of Alan
Watts who (although British) lived and worked for the majority
of his life in the United States, and was related to the beat
movement of the late 1950s and early 1960s, typified by Jack
Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg. Such love affairs with Buddhist
ideas, whilst exhilarating, could not be responsible for rooting
Buddhism in a new culture. The seeds of Buddhism in America
were more obviously sown as a result of the World Parliament of
Religions in Chicago in 1893, where Anagarika Dharmapala
spoke as founder of the Maha Bodhi Society and as a practising
Buddhist monk in the Theravada (South Asian) tradition.
The proliferation of Buddhist centres during the latter half of the
twentieth century owes much to the work of established
Japanese teachers, such as Shunryu Suzuki and his American
disciple Richard Baker, who received his entitlement to teach
from his Japanese master. By transferring this traditional lineage
to a new socio-cultural environment, Buddhism may well
establish a lasting presence on new soil whilst remaining true to
its own principle of spreading the dharma.
 This discussion of the influence of Buddhism worldwide once
168 again points to the importance of establishing a sangha or
g> 03
Buddhist community, as the tradition spreads from one country
a* to another. Taking account of the customs and mores of different
* %
societies is a recurring theme in Buddhism. Accordingly, we shall
SI |
now investigate in greater detail the way in which three different
o
a forms of Buddhism have adapted to and influenced the modern
D)
<
s a world.
<t»
Q}
0)

The Tibetan situation

Tibetan society
The single most dramatic historical event to have an effect on
Buddhism in the twentieth century was the Chinese invasion of
Tibet, and the subsequent exile of the Dalai Lama in India since
1959. At this time Tibetan society was still feudal in nature, and
half its six million population were nomadic. One-third of its
labour force worked on the land. The third largest group were
the monks, fifteen per cent of the population. Otherwise, the
most conspicuous group was professional beggars. This was a
recognized way of life with set traditions. Because alms giving
was an obligation of the faithful, begging did not have the sort
of disapprobation attached to it that we find in the West. One
group of beggars (the ragyapa) was traditionally assigned the
role of disposers of the dead. Corpses would be taken to nearby
peaks, and cut up, with the flesh laid out and bones pulverized,
so that they could be eaten by vultures and wild animals.
Alternatively, the poor would be placed into swiftly flowing
streams, to be eaten by the fish. In this way, the discarded body
became food for fellow creatures. It was the performance of a
generous and meritorious deed.

Only renowned teachers’ and high lamas’ bodies were treated

differently. The formers’ relics would be placed in chortens
(stupas) as a memorial and reminder of their teachings. The latter
would be embalmed by the monastic community.

Tibet had harboured no militaristic or expansionist ambitions in

the previous 1,000 years of Buddhist influence. Its balance of
payments with regard to imports against exports, such as they
were, was healthy. It was, essentially, a highly conservative
society that saw no need for change. Once villages had provided
themselves with the physical necessities of life, any spare income
was used in making offerings to temples and monasteries and the
169
poor. There was no unemployment in the accepted sense, and 0) CD
social advancement did not fit the scheme of things. Since a o. a
century before Columbus, the ruler of Church and State had been
the Dalai Lama, the first being born in a nomad’s tent on the
si
Ȥ
plains of eastern Tibet. The order of Tibetan society was ordained o
by the same law that decreed the Dalai Lama always to be an CL
o>
«<
incarnation of the Bodhisattva Chenresig (Avalokiteshvara). ••

<t>
o
Today Tibet has been shaken by the political, military and social &
changes of Chinese insurgence. Monasteries have been
destroyed, resistance has been systematically subjugated and,
most significantly for Tibetans, the Dalai Lama himself is absent.
Tibetan Buddhism in exile has had to consider its adaptation to
a larger world.

Tibetan Buddhism in exile

The key figure in this adaptation is the Dalai Lama himself. Based
in Dharamsala but travelling the world, he balances the twin
needs of sustaining the fabric of Tibetan life in exile and acting as
ambassador for its cause. At the same time he remains a Buddhist
monk.

Ever since the invasion, His Holiness (as he is known to

Tibetans) has appealed to the United Nations on the question of
Tibet. This has resulted in three resolutions being adopted by the
General Assembly, but China has repeatedly refused to respond
positively to the various proposals offered to alleviate the
Tibetan situation. It is remarkable, and yet consistent, that the
policies advocated by the Dalai Lama to solve the Tibetan
problem have always been based on non-violence. This gained
him worldwide recognition in 1989 when he was awarded the
Nobel Peace Prize. However, it has not resulted in substantial
political backing from the international community. The Dalai
Lama’s concern for the plight of Tibetans remaining in their
mother country is made clear in the following statement:
On this anniversary, I pay homage to the brave men and
women of Tibet, who laid down their lives for the freedom
of our country, and I call upon every Tibetan to renew our
dedication until we have regained our rights and freedom.

(His Holiness the Dalai Lama's Visit to the United

Kingdom, The Office of Tibet, May 1993, p 6)
Meanwhile, the continuance of Tibetan Buddhism, uprooted
from its historical environment, is sustained by various means.
Tibetan refugees have been resettled in India, Nepal and Bhutan
with 83 schools established for children across the world. Across
the world 117 monasteries have been established. In Dharamsala
a Tibetan Medical and Astrological Institute, a Library of
Tibetan Works and Archives and a Tibetan Institute of
Performing Arts have been founded. Such initiatives not only
sustain the cultural and religious life of an exiled community, but
also offer enrichment to a wider world. This helps, albeit in a
small way, to compensate for the deaths of 1.2 million Tibetans,
the imprisonment and torture of thousands of religious and
political prisoners, the destruction of 6,000 monasteries and the
outlawing of the teaching and study of Buddhism in Tibet.

Personal encounters
It was an ironic experience to be offered a children’s book on the
life of the Buddha, produced by a Buddhist publishing group
located at a Tibetan Buddhist Centre in the United Kingdom, in the
Tibetan Institute at Sarnath. It was also humbling to be thanked
for my interest in the Buddhist religion, when I had taken the time
of an important Tibetan official and was, myself, no more than a
passing Westerner possessing equal amounts of curiosity and
cheek. In answer to my question of how the situation of suffering,

meeting on the rooftop at Dharamsala reporting on the situation in Tibet

domination and exile could best be dealt with, he replied: ‘By
171
continuing to spread the word of what was happening, pray and
hope for the future.’ A salutary and gentle response that, in its
unexpected character, faced me with my own Western
conditioning as a matter for reflection.
A world away, in the offices of Wisdom Publications in London,
I was introduced to the tulku of Lama Yeshe. He was already
known to me through talking to a nun at one of the western
centres that he had established. In her broad Lancashire accent,
and while making tea, she described to me the transition, in her
later years, from neighbourhood life in a Lancashire town to
ordination as a nun in Tibetan robes. In the telling, her respect
and affection for the lama who ordained her became apparent.

It comes as something of a shock to a Western mind to

accommodate the relationship of these two events from a
Buddhist perspective, and to become aware of the karmic
significance involved. After all, without the Chinese invasion of
Tibet, none of these small, anecdotal circumstances would have
occurred. Such is the mystery of things, and the influence of
large-scale political change on individual lives as it ripples across
the globe.

The propagation of the dharma

On a broader front, Western Buddhists in the Tibetan tradition
are engaged in producing materials in the form of videos and
books for educational and study purposes, in the hope that
Mahayana Buddhism may become known to future generations,
and be better understood by adults in the modern world. They
are also engaged in the question of lineage, since the preservation
of the teachings is a matter of the relationship between guru and
disciples. Given that Tibetan is not a language generally available
to a worldwide audience, much effort is being spent in providing
translators of Tibetan origin to disseminate the speeches of
Tibetan lamas in English and other languages. At the same time,
the teachers themselves are attempting the transition to a new
means of communication. The difficulty of the Tibetan situation
has raised some debate as to the adaptation of Tibetan Buddhism
to western society as well as the influence of modern society on
Tibetan Buddhists. As one commentator critically observes:
Some Tibetan lamas have succeeded in establishing
themselves in the Western world, where they have
discovered the existence of a potential following among
Western ‘truth seekers’ with predilections for Buddhist or
172
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shrine, prayer flags and mantras on the path surrounding the Dalai Lama’s
palace in Dharamsala

general theosophical ideas. The successful ones seem to be

those who have learned to adapt their ideas and teachings
to what is expected of them - namely, a minimum of
intellectual preparation and the practice of meditation in
order to achieve a kind of equipoise in the affairs of this
world.

This would seem to be quite desirable so far as it goes,

but it is something rather different from the main
preoccupation of Tibetan Buddhist practice, which has
always offered a transcendent - not a this-worldly - ideal
to those who are intellectually and morally prepared, and
to those who are not so prepared the prospect of
improved this-worldly conditions in a future life,
achieved by the accumulation of personal merits. These
are the ideals still kept in mind by the majority of
Tibetans in exile, and these are mainly simple folk, whose
religion is quite properly one of faith in the Buddhas and
supporting divinities and of the practice of meritorious
acts. The reciting of invocations to chosen divinities as
one tells one’s string of 108 beads, the turning of the
prayer wheel in supplication to the Lord of Compassion,
 Avalokiteshvara, and the making of offerings to those
who are qualified to recite the scriptures on one’s behalf
remain the main religious occupations of Tibetan lay folk
in the settlements established in India. The few who feel
the need for a higher ideal and are free to pursue it must
needs go on pilgrimage looking for a suitable teacher, who
is certainly still to be found, although the circumstances of
life in exile make such a quest far more difficult than it
ever was in Tibet itself, and it must be remembered that
those who might once have gone on such a quest now tend
to go in pursuit of modern forms of education.

(David Snellgrove, in Dumoulin and Maraldo (eds),

Buddhism in the Modern World, Collier Macmillan,
1976, p 291)

Tibetan Buddhists outside their tent

Theravada Buddhism today

Modern influences
The most significant effect on Theravada Buddhism has been the
impact of Western society and values in the twentieth century
and now in the twenty-first century. Modern influences have
 stressed the need for Buddhist teachings to be seen as scientific,
174
and adaptable to worldwide social conditions. In major urban
fi> QQ
centres its ‘religiosity’, and adaptation over the course of its
aa
history to folklore and local belief, has been played down, in
it order to make it acceptable to Western ways of thinking. The
»!
Buddha has been presented as ‘the greatest discoverer and
o
a scientist of all time’, and ‘a social reformer bent on liberalizing
Q)
■ ■ the Brahmanical society of his own day’. The Buddha’s teachings
©
fi) have been slanted towards the social purpose of modernizing
V)
society, and effective social reform, rather than the pursuit of the
transcendental goal of enlightenment. Effectively, as in the
United Kingdom with Protestant Christianity, Buddhism has
tended to shed its cosmological doctrines and meditative
emphasis in favour of a more acceptable and pragmatic vision. In
effect, this amounts to a form of ‘Protestant Buddhism’, which
presents the Buddha as the exemplar of modern knowledge, as
the following illustrates:

The Buddha was the first great scientist to appear among

men. The Buddha discovered what scientists have only
now discovered that there is nothing called matter or mind
existing separately in this world but they are the result of
forces which continually cause them to come into
operation and that they dissolved and came into operation
again ...

(G.P. Malalasekera, in R. Gombrich, Theravada

Buddhism, Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1988, p 196)

Buddhism and nationalism

In traditionally Theravadin countries like Thailand, Burma, Sri
Lanka and Laos, the question of the relationship between
religion and national identity has always been important. In a
shrinking world which has seen major political and economic
changes during the twentieth century, the role of Buddhism has
been an important feature of the development of these countries.
The monastic sangha’s role, in particular, has been a matter of
concern in the face of modernization, given the possibility of
marginalization.

Efforts have been made to ensure that Buddhism remains a

significant intellectual and cultural influence. In Sri Lanka,
Thailand and Cambodia, attempts have been made to set up
Buddhist universities. Five have been established since the Second
World War; students are encouraged to relate Buddhist doctrines
to their contemporary situation, as a training for effective service
in society.

There has also been a rebirth of religious vitality amongst lay

people. In Thailand in particular, a programme of dhamma
education has increased significantly in modern times. Equally,
meditation-orientated sanghas in Burma and Thailand have
sought to revive lay practice. Since the Second World War over
200 meditation centres have been established in Burma. During
the 1960s and 70s this revival spread to Thailand and was
reinforced by teachers’ establishing monasteries, where
disciplined meditation practice is seen as reviving the vitality of
the monastic sangha. One example of this is the Forest Retreat
Order of Ajahn Chah, referred to earlier which is now
established in the West.

Missionary activity
Buddhist mission has also been a focus of renewal. Initially, its
main concern was to restore Buddhist holy places in India; this
developed into the re-propagation of Buddhism in India and the
publishing of Buddhist literature in English. This mission has
now developed, to include seeing the West as an important area
of missionary activity. The impetus for this emerged most
obviously from the Sixth Great Buddhist Council, where two
themes dominated: firstly, that Christianity and Western culture
were declining, and Buddhism’s ‘scientific’ approach made it the
religion most acceptable to modern society. Secondly, that
Buddhist ethics provided a stabilizing influence in a world of
continual conflict.

There have been setbacks to all these initiatives, however. Laos

and Cambodia have been engulfed by political turmoil. Sri
Lanka and Burma have both experienced social and political
difficulties which have destabilized national progress. Thailand
has to remain wary of the influence of Western capitalism on its
social fabric and values. Nevertheless, Buddhism still exists as a
vital force in the national identities of these nations, and is
becoming recognized in the West as an alternative source of
vision and values.
176 The Friends of the Western Buddhist
0) gj
2Q- Ca
Order
The Friends of the Western Buddhist Order differ from most
II other forms of Buddhist organization in many respects, the most
©
important being that they are specifically committed to the ideals
a and practices of Buddhism in a form that is effective in the
©
• ■
conditions of modern Western industrialized society.
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to

the Three Jewels emblem of the FWBO

It was founded in 1968, by the Ven. Sangharakshita, as a Western

sangha. At the heart of the organization is the Order itself. This
consists of men and women who have gone for refuge to the
Three Jewels, and accepted Sangharakshita as their spiritual
teacher. In this sense, the Western Buddhist Order has established
its own tradition, not dependent on, but related to, other
branches of Buddhism.

Upon ordination, members are invested with a kesa, a strip of

white brocade worn around the neck, with the emblem of the
Three Jewels embroidered on it. If Order members have
undertaken to follow a celibate life, the kesa is gold in colour.
These are worn at FWBO gatherings, and on occasions when an
Order member is representing the FWBO. An Order member
also receives a new name, taken from Sanskrit, to signify spiritual
rebirth and their belonging to the sangha. It indicates their
177
aspiration to progress in the spiritual life. Thus, for example,
S> CD
‘Bodhananda’, meaning the ‘Bliss of Enlightenment’.

Male Order members are known as dharmacharis, and female

Order members as dharmacharinis, meaning ‘dharma farers’ or
‘those who practise the dharma’. Order members are not monks
or nuns in the traditional sense of being mendicants, but neither
are they lay members. The lifestyles of Order members vary, and
there are no rules apart from the precepts. Some Order members
work full time for the FWBO, usually teaching and running
centres; others work in Right Livelihood businesses, attached to
the organization and seeking to promote its aims. These may be
connected with publishing, running bookshops or cafes, and so
on. This is a form of outreach, concerned with living an ethical
life and supporting the Order itself. Other Order members may
work outside the movement, but seek to bring their Buddhist
commitment to their professional life, as this comment from a
hospital psychiatrist shows:
If my bleep goes off I use it as a cue to check my breath. I
find that useful, like building up little islands of
mindfulness into my day.

Sangha and spiritual friendship

The FWBO believes that the sangha should not be mendicant,
because this will hinder the spreading of the dharma. As one
Order member explains:

For instance, monks aren’t allowed to handle money. So,

if you’re a monk, and you want to travel around the
country giving talks on Buddhism, you have to make
elaborate arrangements to pay your train fares. The rule is
a hindrance. Anagarika Dharmapala (the founder of the
Mahabodhi Society) had this problem. Thinking that
following the full Vinaya might hamper his work, he did
not take the Bhikkhu Ordination. He followed a much
simpler form of ethical code, which he thought would
allow him to be as effective as possible. After all, what is
important is that you are really able to practise Buddhism,
and not that a tenpenny piece never crosses you palm.
(Dharmachari Vessantara, in R Connolly and
C. Erricker (eds), The Presence and Practice of
Buddhism, W.S.I.H.E., 1985, p 60)
 They also feel that it encourages exaggerated deference to a group
178 seen as the religious professionals, diminishes the expectations of
fi> cn the lay person, and is not conducive to a sense of inherent spiritual
aS.
equality.
I 8s
ftf The sangha is therefore understood in a distinctive way, as the
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o following passage explains. It is:
a
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■ ■ The totality of those who have ‘Gone For Refuge’ ... the
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0) spiritual community. It is the absolute contrast to the
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social group which is a network of need-based
relationships. The Sangha comes into being when people
experience together their common commitment to the
highest of ideals and feel a mutual concern and
friendliness. It is only to the extent that there is real metta,
true friendliness, that there is Sangha. And it is this spirit
of friendship which is the crucial element in the spiritual
life.
(Dharmachari Subhuti, Buddhism For Today,
Element Books, 1983, p 87)

Mitras
Mitra is the word for ‘friend’, and denotes Friends of the Order.
These are individuals who form an association with the Order
without being full Order members. They declare their openness
to the movement, and Order members reciprocate by accepting
them as mitras. Their involvement may vary from occasional
contact through attending classes, to going on retreats or
working in one of the FWBO cooperatives, and living in a
community. However, it is a positive commitment to practising
meditation and learning about the dharma. Mitras are expected
to follow the Buddhist Path and support the development of the
movement in an active way. There is a small ceremony for new
mitras, at which they make an offering of a flower, a candle and
incense before the Buddha image, during a puja.

Positive Buddhism
The FWBO believes that the Buddha’s message should be
presented in a positive way, such that it is seen as enhancing the
society it is in, rather than being separate from it. They
emphasise the positive counterpart of each precept. So, for
example, the first precept, ‘I undertake to refrain from harming
living beings’, is balanced by ‘With deeds of loving kindness I
purify my body.’ In concert with this, it welcomes Western
literature (such as the work of Goethe and William Blake) which
represents teachings seen as supporting the Buddhist vision. It
accentuates qualities such as good communication, creativity and
active involvement in society as ways in which the aim of
spiritual evolution can be achieved:

Whilst we don’t ignore the Buddha’s teachings on dukkha,

we stress that Buddhism is a Path leading to higher and
more satisfying mental states. For instance, one traditional
formulation of the Dharma which we often talk about is
the ‘spiral path’. It begins when you see the
unsatisfactoriness of ordinary mundane life, which gives
you confidence in the Buddha’s analysis of the human
predicament. With that confidence you practise the
precepts and meditation wholeheartedly. This purifies
your mind and leads to higher mental states: joy, rapture,
calm and bliss - each state higher than the last - until a
total psychic integration is achieved. On the basis of this
arises insight into the nature of Reality. This enables you
to ‘see through’ mundane life, so you no longer cling to it.
Its waves no longer overwhelm you, or even ruffle your
mind. The path culminates in the knowledge that you are
completely free from even the subtlest predisposition to
future suffering.

(Dharmachari Vessantara, in P. Connolly and

C. Erricker (eds) The Presence and Practice of
Buddhism, W.S.I.H.E. 1985, p 67)

The FWBO in India

The FWBO has also been involved in the revival of Buddhism in
India among the so-called untouchables:

The Untouchables are a class of being who are outside

caste altogether. A vast congeries of communities and
tribes, they are traditionally regarded as being less than
human: unfit for education or religious instruction, often
even refused the use of the roads. They live in ghettoes just
outside the villages and towns, cut off from the rest of the
people, expected to perform the most odious tasks, such
as scavenging, cleaning lavatories, performing execution,
and burning the dead. ‘Polluted’ from birth, their duty is
to perform all the chores that would otherwise bring
pollution to the caste Hindu. Above all they must not
allow themselves to pollute him through physical, or even
visual, contact.
(Nagabodhi, FWBO Newsletter No. 54)
 The Buddhist mission to the untouchables was originally started
180 by Dr Bhim Ambedkar, himself an untouchable, who conducted
0) qj
a campaign for social reform as a lawyer and member of the
a£
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<D S-
%§ Indian parliament in the late 1940s and early 50s. Its rejection
led him to seek an alternative religion for both himself and fellow
o
a untouchables. This brought him into contact with Ven.
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■ ■ Sangharakshita, who was also concerned with the role of religion
<D
0) in establishing a just society and spiritual renewal. However, they
W
were both of the opinion that a new Buddhist movement was
required to be the vehicle of this vision. At its centre was the
concept of the ‘dhamma worker’, committed to realizing the
social ideals of Buddhism, unrestricted by the traditional
monastic code.
In October 1956, Ambedkar converted to Buddhism, taking the
refuges and precepts from the most senior monk in India, along
with 5,000 of his followers. This number increased to about four
million in the following months. Dr Ambedkar, however, was a
sick man, and died just five weeks after his conversion leaving
the movement without a leader. Sangharakshita committed
himself to holding the movement together, despite vituperative
opposition from sections of the Indian press.

After 1977 the FWBO, already established in the West, was a

prime motivating force sustaining the missionary activity begun
by Ambedkar in India. The movement is known as Trailokya
Bauhdda Mahasangha Sahayak Gana, and its main centres are in
Pune and Ahmedabad. Its teachings emphasize spiritual practice
and the relevance of Buddhism in the modern world. In contrast
to other forms of traditional Buddhism, it is particularly socio-
politically oriented, with a strong emphasis on ethical teachings,
social identity and the need for vernacular preaching and
teaching. Its character is well illustrated by the following
passage:

The local group usually meets weekly or monthly to recite

simple texts ... sometimes in Pali, more often in Marathi
or Hindi, and to listen to explanations of Buddhism. In
villages the converts still live in their special area outside
the village proper; the temple or shrine of their deity,
usually the goddess Mariai or Mariamma, goddess of
smallpox and cholera, has in most cases been changed into
a Buddhist mandir, small statues and pictures of Buddha
and Ambedkar replacing the shapeless stone of the
 goddess. In cities the majority cluster in slums, where a
181
small hut is set aside for the same purpose. o> m
(H. Dumoulin and J. Maraldo (eds), Buddhism in the a£
Modern World, Collier Macmillan, 1976, p 143) t =r
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The writer goes on to remark, however, that such converts often o
retain a hatred of Hinduism as the cause and symbol of their a
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former degradation, despite the Buddhist doctrines of universal ■ ■

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love and compassion. 0)
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In conclusion, we may say that the twentieth century was a time

of upheaval and progressive change for Buddhism, as its
traditional centres were subjected to different political and
economic influences. Its missionary activity has increased, but it
is too early to say whether it will ultimately have any significant
effect. Its contacts with communism, capitalism and advances in
scientific knowledge have placed it in a position similar to that
of other world faiths in a world of rapid change. The relevance
of the Buddha’s teaching, however, does not seem to have
diminished. The twenty-first century is already replete with
suffering. Attacks on the twin towers in New York, reprisals in
Afghanistan and the war on Terror that has been waged on Iraq
do not suggest we are any nearer to accomplishing what the
Buddha said needed to be eradicated.
twenty-first century
for Buddhism in the

In this chapter you will learn:

• more about the prospects of
Buddhism in the twenty-first
century
• how Buddhism is adapting to
different movements and
responding to different issues
• about ways that Buddhism is
being renewed and
reinterpreted in the West.
This chapter follows on from the last but attempts to probe the
183
themes highlighted in the chapter title in greater depth and, in
doing so, identify specific examples of ways in which Buddhism Is
O. 3
is facing up to, or being forced to adapt to, issues and 3.
circumstances of particular contemporary significance. c o
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Into the twenty-first century as
■wa

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3
Chapter 10 concluded indicating that the relevance of the
Buddha’s message does not seem to have diminished. However,
in the late twentieth and the emergent twenty-first century social
change and the influence of globalization present new
challenges for any religion. Political and economic shifts always
impinge on religious communities and often test the resolve of
those communities to be involved in the world’s affairs rather
than just retreating from the wider social order. In this way
Buddhist traditional reliance on a monastic sangha is called into
question. Does monasticism separate itself off from the most
significant issues the modern world faces such that it makes
Buddhism peripheral to the interests of that world and
marginalizes the impact of the Buddhist message? This is a
complex question, partly because Buddhism has many differing
forms and attitudes towards engagement; partly because there is
a real question as to whether the dharma needs to be, or is best
expressed, as ‘religious’ in a world beset by secularisation. If the
Buddha’s teaching is still relevant today how can it be seen to be
relevant to today and influence the world we create in the
future?
In his study of the world in the twentieth century Clive Pontin
concludes that:
Given the way the world evolved in the twentieth century
and the distribution of economic and political power at
the end of the century, it seems likely that, as in the past,
the world will, over the next few decades, continue to be
characterized by progress for a minority and barbarism
for the overwhelming majority.

(Clive Pontin, The Pimlico History of the Twentieth

Century, Pimlico, 1999, p 546)
The Boer War saw the invention of the concentration camp, by
the British, at the beginning of the century. The First World War
introduced the impact of modern armaments, capable of mass
killing, into trench warfare. Both these developments led
eventually and respectively to the Holocaust of the Second
World War and the atom bomb, which was used not against the
military but large civilian populations. At the end of the century
ethnic cleansing had become a widely favoured solution to
settling disputes within nation states and across contested
borders. The major economic powers, the wealthy Western
nations, have done little but offer rhetoric and sanctions (in
some cases) in response. At the same time, economically, they
have been careful to maintain their privileged position in a
rampant free market economy, through the World Bank and the
G7 (now G8) group, which has excluded countries in the
periphery (the Third World), and by ensuring arms sales
remained a major export priority.
Passing into the twenty-first century, the major economic
powers are multinational global corporations. Their effect on
communities and values across the globe and in specific
countries has been well documented by Naomi Klein, in her
publication No Logo, and George Monbiot in his book Captive
State: the Corporate Takeover of Britain, amongst others. The
exploitation of child labour in peripheral countries has
increased, not diminished. The perpetrators of this exploitation
are those who most influence the ‘branding’ of lifestyles and
‘individuality’ in the West; for example, Nike and Adidas. This
double exploitation of the worker and the ‘customer’ is the
prevalent value base for commercial success and ‘cool’ image.
The real customer is the shareholder and the bargain struck is
based on the promise of ever-increasing return on the dividend
invested. This is the prevailing situation to which Pontin is
referring.

What are the Buddhist responses to this state of affairs? The

responses have depended on the specifics of localized situations
and priorities in those situation, in some cases, that have had as
much to do with socio-cultural and political factors as they have
had to do with simply religious ones. To illustrate, here are two
different, contrasting examples of the way in which Buddhism
has been involved in and been affected by the affairs of nation
states. They are case studies in one of the most pressing
contemporary problems, that of migrant and indigenous
minorities. In the first example Buddhists are the minority in
question, in the second Buddhism is the state religion.
Migrant Buddhism and the Japanese experience 185
In Chapter 10 I briefly alluded to Japanese migration to the a> 3*

United States. Here I report the experiences and issues that faced U

those Japanese Buddhist communities in more detail. 2ft

c §
In Tetsuden Kashima’s study of Japanese Buddhists in the So -g
<D O-
United States (Buddhism in America: the Social Organization of ■o
an Ethnic Religious Institution, Greenwood Press, 1977), we
find a story which can be paralleled by other immigrant groups’
histories, for example, those of Vietnamese Buddhists,
Bangladeshi and Khojas Shi’a Ithnasheeri Muslims and various
Hindu and Sikh communities. The author is of Japanese
extraction and the son of a priest, the Reverend Tetsuro
Kashima, of the Japanese Buddhist Churches of America. In this
study we can trace an example of Buddhist ethnic transference
to the West, which is comparatively rarely documented in
Buddhism, as opposed to the transmigration that has occurred
with ethnic groups in other religions.
Kashima remarks on how ‘The Buddhist Church of America
(BCA) represents an alien religion in America - one that has
continued for seventy-six years.’ It is predominantly Jodo
Shinshu of the West and East School varieties and most
emigrated from the Hiroshima area (Prefecture), representing a
quarter of the total migrants (84,562). The Buddhist Church of
America (BCA) represents Jodo Shinshu (Amida Buddhism or
Pure Land) with its headquarters in San Francisco. It was
inaugurated under this name in 1944 after the traumatic events
during the Second World War when almost all the Japanese and
Nisei (first-generation Americans of Japanese ancestry) were
interned. This resulted in a complete dislocation of habits and
lifestyles. A continual theme in the history of the institution is
its importance as a force for ethnic solidarity: ‘The Buddhist
Church is a place for the Japanese to meet other Japanese’ as
one Nisei father stated. In this respect it existed solely for the
Japanese and their offspring since 1899. The use of the word
Church became increasingly problematic for its members during
the later decades of the twentieth century since it does not reflect
the purposes or structures of an inherently Japanese Buddhist
religious community. As Kashima points out, temple or dojo (‘a
place where the Way is cultivated’) is a more proper description
of its place of worship, and sangha is a more exact description
of its membership (ibid., p 187).
The history of Japanese immigrants bears some familiar
features. Prejudice and wilfully ignorant racism such as that
propagated by the Western Central Labour Union in Seattle in
1900 whose propagation for restrictions on immigration led to
such descriptions of Japanese Buddhists as having the
‘treacherous, sneaking insidious, betraying and perfidious
nature and characteristics of the Mongolian race’ (ibid., p 18).
Kashima suggests that the use of the word ‘Church’ was
probably an attempt to mitigate against anti-Japanese agitation
and is evidence of the Americanization of second- and third-
generation Japanese.
The Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor in December 1941,
despite its condemnation by the Buddhist Mission of North
America (as it then was), led to internment. Most of those
interned were Buddhists. Even before the bombing ‘Many
Japanese destroyed items that might be regarded as
incriminating: some burned sutra books, while others concealed
their family Buddhist altars’ (ibid., p 48, quoting from Ryo
Munekata (ed.), Buddhist Churches of America, Vol. 1, Nobart
Inc., 1974).
With generational change from Issei to Nisei to Sansei (third
generation, but second generation American born) the
membership declined in relation to the size of the Japanese-
American population since the BCA never systematically
proselytized and successive generations did not have the same
need for its support as members of an ethnic minority. Also,
those who still belonged to and supported the organization did
not necessarily practise Buddhism. One Nisei minister
commenting on why there was continued Nisei involvement
with their church suggested:
Perhaps it could be guilt or family pressure. What my
parents have done for the temple, and therefore ... I must
carry on. And the other one would say I must do it for my
children. These may be some of the reasons why they do
it. But not so much from the religious standpoint.
(ibid., p 188)
And one Nisei said, ‘I don’t know anything about Buddhism, I’ll
come not to the service but to other things. To carnivals, but not
to study class or the Hondo [temple hall]’ (ibid., p 188).
Kashima remarks on the differences among the three
generations as highlighted by the Reverend Koshin Ogui:
 As history shows, the Issei had to work to support their
families, nothing but work. The Nisei were educated by
the Issei to build up their lives the same as the hakujin
[Caucasian] people. So you see the majority of Nisei
people out to buy cars and homes. They don’t think
about spiritual matters. They are more satisfied with
fancy cars and homes. The Sansei are raised in such a
background and getting tired of it. Of course, they
respect their families. But they’re looking for more
importance in life - to go forward to fight for human
rights, against racial discrimination and to help the
community instead of building up their abundance.
(ibid., p 197)
If this proves to be the case and the BCA extends its involvement
with other non-Japanese Shin-Buddhists, the spiritual heart of
the organization could be revitalized. But Kashima’s judgement
is equivocal: ‘Looking ahead we may conceive of many futures
for the BCA, which is really just another way of saying that the
future is uncertain.’ He also refers to the remarks of the
historian H.A.L. Fisher as being highly applicable to this
situation:
One intellectual excitement has ... been denied me. Men
wiser and more learned than I have discovered in history
a plot, a rhythm, a predetermined pattern. These
harmonies are concealed from me. I can see only one
emergency following another, as wave follows upon
wave, only one great fact with respect to which, since it
is unique, there can be no generalization ... the play of
the contingent and the unforeseen.
(ibid., p 205, in Robert A. Nisbet, Social Change and
History: Aspects of the Western Theory of Development,
Oxford University Press, 1969, p 284)
Kashima suggests that possible futures depend on how a number
of present problems are resolved. He cites five: decreasing and
changing membership; the ethnic character of membership;
economic problems; the proper techniques for teaching
Buddhism; interrelated problems with the ministry. All of the
problems are ultimately interconnected, as he observes (see ibid.,
p 207). He also posits that if the BCA comes to include a wider
racial representation, as its leaders envision, then ‘Buddhism will
indeed become fully Americanized’ (ibid., p 220).
 What is interesting, in this study, is the way it fits within the
188 issues discussed at the beginning of this chapter. The close but
Q) d-
= 33 shifting connections between ethnicity (Japanese), nationality
O.
3 <2. (American), and religiosity (Buddhist) represent the equation
Is d.
cO that the community has to balance across three generations. For
(ft 3
3 ~ each generation the balance between these factors is different, in
o “
® & terms of priority. Migration was one of the dominant features of
*
0) the twentieth century and is likely to be no less dominant in the
53‘ twenty-first. It determines the issues of particular importance to
this Buddhist group, it creates future uncertainty,
discrimination, and problems in distinguishing the relationship
between religion and culture, a relationship that changes across
generations. Is being Buddhist important, as an aspect of
identity, in a secularized American environment? Is it better to
shed it in the movement towards becoming fully American, or is
it the vital commitment to be retained and nurtured, against all
others, to preserve identity and values? What does being
Buddhist actually mean for this community and how does it
relate to the larger issues introduced above concerning the
spiritual and moral condition of a globalized world in the
twenty-first century? What does the propagation of the dharma
mean for this kind of community when its initial concern for the
first, migrant, generation was economic survival and ethnic
identity, then, for the next generation, wealth creation and
assimilation? The questions that emerge for an immigrant group
of this kind differ to those posed for Buddhists in other
situations. When Kashima speaks of anticipating Buddhism
becoming fully Americanized what sort of Buddhism will this
be? We cannot know, but the twenty-first century will tell us.
The third generation’s concern with social issues fits a particular
pattern of increasing Buddhist interest and activity, again
touched on in Chapter 10, that we return to more fully later.

Buddhism, nationalism and the Sinhalese

question
The second example is taken from the Sinhalese situation, again
referred to earlier in the last chapter. Buddhism is not immune
from ideological systems and, in the case of Sinhalese
nationalism, it is a motivating force. The reasons behind this
are, as always, complex and consist of economic, cultural,
political, mythological and historical factors working together.
As Tambiah announces at the beginning of his study (Stanley
Jeyaraja Tambiah, Buddhism Betrayedf Religion, Politics and
Violence in Sri Lanka, University of Chicago Press, 1992):
189
Frequently during my travels in the United States fi) St
3 5
colleagues, friends and acquaintances ask me the o. 3
-■ 0)
discomforting question, ‘If Buddhism preaches IS
C O
® 3
nonviolence, why is there so much political violence in Sri 3”
O “
Lanka today?’ <D &
0)
(ibid., p 1) 1

Sri Lanka is a small, highly populated island with a poor o'

3
agrarian economy. It is seeking to develop its economic base in
the context of high unemployment. It is populated by both
Buddhists (the majority and heirs to its ancient classical past)
and Tamils (the minority). Resultant Sinhalese nationalism seeks
to recover its past glories as a civilization by calling on its
Buddhist heritage and aggravating anti-Indian sentiment. This
alienates the Tamil population which, as a result, fights for
independence of rule. Opposing militant political factions
developing within a situation of economic scarcity thus bring
the development process to a halt and exacerbate the influence
of ethnic and religious, in the cause of ideological conflict. The
need, as Tambiah envisions it, is for ‘a greater amount of
pluralist tolerance in the name of Buddhist conceptions of
righteous rule ... that can accommodate minorities’ (ibid., p xii,
xiv). As he indicates, this attitude stretches back to the Emperor
Ashoka’s rule in India and that of the early Buddhist kings in
south-east Asia as a model for contemporary relevance (ibid.,
P 1-2).
The present situation is a result of a number of historical issues
through which, from a Sinhalese Buddhist point of view, there
is a grievance to be rectified. As an example, during the period
of British colonialism the influence of the sangha deteriorated:
Under British subjugation monks headed the rebellions of
1818, 1834, and 1848. What the British soon became
aware of was that a close identification and solidarity
existed between the laity and the sangha and that this
unity between them had to be severed if they were to gain
control and rule peacefully. Thus a strategy of divide and
rule was implemented to Christianize the country, during
which elite Sinhalese families were indoctrinated to ‘look
down upon and despise Sinhalese culture ...’
(ibid., p 28)
 This resulted in limiting the role of the bhikkhus to the margins
190 of social influence and to a more reclusive life which reflected
IS the model of a particular type of Christian monasticism (ibid., p
a. 3
29). Thus, Buddhist nationalism in Sri Lanka is bound up with
a; ft restoring and maintaining the historical right to Buddhist rule
is
®? and the identification of any threat to this right. Within this the
4 importance of the sangha in political atfairs becomes self-
1o
OHM
evident. The 1958 riots involving the Tamils were largely the
result of denying them the use of their mother tongue in public
3
life.
What Tambiah refers to as the ‘restoration of Buddhism’ in the
1960s and 70s represents, in his view, an instrumental and
selective use of Buddhism to underpin the Sinhalese nationalist
cause, largely distanced from any central or foundational
Buddhist teachings (ibid., p 58ff). The Movement for the
Protection of the Motherland in the 1980s emphasized Sinhalese
domination in which monks were actively politically engaged.
Tambiah writes that:
An account of the transformation of Buddhism is gravely
distorted and deficient if there is no account of the
political direction taken by Buddhism in this century ...
the larger truth about the sangha in this century is that it
is differentiated on sectarian and regional bases and
further fragmented by ordination lineages and property
interests.
(ibid., p 93)
By the late 1980s some monks were openly supporting violence
against Tamil rebels. Monks were actively recruited by the
militant JVP party. The political motivation was to ensure Sri
Lanka was a sovereign Buddhist and Sinhalese territory and
some were implicated in violence to that end. They were critical
of elder monks who they accused of being ‘trapped in worldly
interests of property, rank, and temple building’ (ibid., p 99). It
was also the case that younger monks were more fully drawn
from lower classes and more actively politically involved than at
any time in the sangha’s history. Indeed, Tambiah concludes,
their participation was indistinguishable from that of the lay
person (ibid., p 100). For the traditional Buddhist, like
Tambiah, these changes are worrying:
 To many of us who live in the glow of the classical
191
Buddhist heritage, witnessing the increasing participation o> 3*

of monks, especially young monks being educated in U

monastic colleges and national universities, in violence, i*
whether directly or indirectly, is a disturbing experience. c §
(P 3
3 ~

(ibid., p 100) o g
• §■
Tambiah points out that turning to sanitized Pali texts does not §s
help. There is a tradition of monks opposing imperialism and
supporting working-class protest movements and repression in
the twentieth century, for example, in Burma, against its
repressive military regime, but, in his view, there is a large
question to be resolved about the contemporary role of
Buddhism:
as religion, civilization, and way of life ... There is an
inescapable dilemma here which surely must tug at the
conscience and moral sensibilities of all Buddhists. It
cannot be ignored; it has to be confronted, even if it
cannot satisfactorily be resolved.
(ibid., p 101)
Thus, the larger questions for Buddhism in the above and other
similar contemporary situations are how it survives as a migrant
religion belonging to an ethnic minority, and how it identifies its
relationship with nationalist ideologies and attitudes toward
ethnic minority discrimination, as with the Tamils, when it is the
indigenous majority religion.
Buddhists consequently have to scrutinize critically the
relationship between Buddhist texts and the tradition
developing in their socio-political contexts and determine how,
in the contemporary world, the community representing the
tradition takes a stance in relation to its socio-political
environment. From the point of view of the situations described
above, there is no point in either trying to reinvent Buddhism as
a pure but unassociated dharma or, concomitantly, trying to set
up Buddhist practice within a sanitized environment. The lotus
grows out of the samsaric mud. No mud - no lotus!
Both the examples given above relate to ‘non-Western’ groups of
Buddhist. What of the ‘views from the West’? Here we can
identify some significantly different characteristics and, perhaps,
more helpful intimations of the impact of dharma.
192 Views from the West
0) £?
3 2
o. 3
Dharma practice and ‘engaged Buddhism’
Sft Stephen Batchelor has been an articulate spokesperson for
eg envisioning a new understanding of dharma practice in the
3 -
5 “
<6 Q.
Western context. In identifying a degeneration in the
Q}
understanding of the dharma in both East and West he offers a
1
■■a
new way forward based on the collapse of religious-secular
O3 distinctions. For example, he writes:
Just as contemporary agnosticism has tended to lose its
confidence and lapse into scepticism, so Buddhism has
tended to lose its critical edge and lapse into religiosity.
What each has lost, however, the other may be able to
restore. In encountering contemporary culture the
dharma may recover its agnostic imperative, while
secular agnosticism may recover its soul.
(Stephen Batchelor, Buddhism Without Beliefs:
A Contemporary Guide to Awakening,
Bloomsbury, 1998, p 18)
Batchelor’s view derives from a new impetus in Western
thinking, a shunning of traditional and conventional religious
forms and a search for more engaged and alternative ways of
thinking about persistent and emergent environmental and
social issues. These are linked to the concern in the West with
ideas of individual freedom and autonomous action: the notion
that each individual decides for him or herself as to what values
stance each takes and how that influences lifestyle choices. On
this matter Batchelor remarks:
Dharma practice has become a creed (‘Buddhism’) much
in the same way scientific method has degraded into the
creed of ‘Scientism’.
(ibid., p 18)
But:
While ‘Buddhism’ suggests another belief system ‘dharma
practice’ suggests a course of action. The four ennobling
truths are not propositions to believe; they are challenges
to act ... The first truth challenges our habitual
relationship to anguish.
(ibid., p 7)
Further:
At the heart of Buddhism’s encounter with the
contemporary world is the convergence of two visions of
freedom. The Buddha’s freedom from craving and
anguish is converging with the individual’s freedom to
realize his or her capacity for personal and social
fulfilment.
(ibid., p 110)
Thus:
... a socially engaged vision of dharma practice
recognizes that each practitioner is obliged by an ethics of
empathy to respond to the anguish of a globalized,
interdependent world.
(ibid., p 112)
Which, in turn, can be understood as bringing about the
development of, ‘A culture of awakening’.
(ibid., p 113)
This individualized but collectivist view bringing the dharma to
social action, or what has been called ‘engaged Buddhism’, owes
much to the influence of the Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat
Hanh. During the Vietnam War he had been an activist drawing
attention to the suffering of the population with the intention of
‘moving the hearts of the oppressors’ (Stephen Batchelor, The
Awakening of the West: the Encounter of Buddhism and
Western Culture, Aquarian, 1994, p 354). His explanation of
the self-immolation of Buddhist monks at that time was that
they were ‘a lotus in a sea of fire’ (ibid., p 354). In 1973, at the
end of the war, he was refused permission to return to Vietnam
and moved to Fontvannes, near Paris, where he founded a rural
community. Here his presence and his writings have been an
inspiration to Buddhists in the West to engage in Buddhist
activism.
Such activism is described in terms of taking an anti-ideological
stance, working on one’s own inner development and attending
to issues of both social and ecological concern. It also draws on
non-Buddhist inspiration; for example, the writings of E.F.
Schumacher, when focusing on ecological perspectives. Ken
Jones’ book, Beyond Optimism: A Buddhist Political Ecology,
is an example of this. It takes an anti-ideological activist stance
to shaping a green future based on the outer work of ‘eco-social
liberation’ and the inner work of ‘psycho-spiritual liberation’,
on the basis of Schumacher’s conviction that:
It is no longer possible to believe that any political or
economic reform or scientific advance could solve the life
and death problems of the industrial society. They lie too
deep in the heart and soul of every one of us.
(Ken Jones, Beyond Optimism: A Buddhist Political
Ecology, Jon Carpenter, 1993, dedication)
Attacking the ideology of scientism, which states that ‘there is
an environmental crisis “out there” from which science alone
can procure our salvation’, Jones posits the need to recognize
that ‘there is an ecological crisis of which we are a part’ (ibid.,
p 9) and that the ‘cleverness’ of scientism must be replaced by
wisdom. Thus, quoting Schumacher again:
The disease [affecting our civilization] having been
caused by allowing cleverness to displace wisdom, no
amount of clever research is likely to produce a cure. But
where is wisdom? Where can it be found? Here we come
to the crux of the matter: it can be read about in
numerous publications, but it can be found only inside
oneself. To be able to find it one has to liberate oneself
from such masters as greed and envy.
(ibid., p 9, in E.F. Schumacher, Small is Beautiful,
Abacus Sphere, 1974, p 28)

The outer work of eco-social liberation Jones understands as

best accomplished by avoiding extremes of the conflictual
approach of radical greens and of the ‘evolutionary approach’
of consensualist greens. Empowerment of individuals and
groups is the key to this alongside creating alternatives and
changes in lifestyle. Thus the outer work must be accompanied
by the inner (psycho-liberation). This amounts to working on
yourself. Illustrative of this he quotes Thich Nhat Hanh:
Treat your anger [and all strong emotion] with the
utmost respect and tenderness, because it is no other than
yourself. Do not suppress it: simply be aware of it.
Awareness is like the sun. When it shines on things they
are transformed ... Mindfully dealing with anger is like
taking the hand of a little brother.

(ibid., p 181; from a talk given at a Buddhist Peace

Fellowship Retreat in March 1983 at Tassajara Zen
Mountain Centre, USA)
And the Thai Buddhist activist Sulak Sivaraksa:
Buddhism is an attempt to deal with what it sees as the
disease of individualism. Buddhism is primarily a method
of overcoming the limits of the individual seif;
consequently it entails a concern with the political and
social dimensions.
(ibid., p 178, in A Buddhist Vision for Renewing
Society, Thai Watana Panich, 1981, p 162)
Relating these together Jones points to the development of
organisational growth and collaboration of green movements
which are distinctive but not conflictual in mentality: a shift to
a higher consciousness that can claim political rewards, such as
the election of a green Welsh nationalist in 1992, Cynog Dafis,
with ‘an uncompromisingly radical green programme’ (ibid., p
157). Pointers to other grassroots development such as
initiatives in Kenya and Mexico also suggest hope, albeit fragile,
since as Paul Elkins points out, ‘most of the major global trends
are still going in the wrong direction, some at an accelerating
rate* (ibid., p 157, in Paul Elkins, New World Order: Grassroots
Movements for Social Change, Routledge, 1992, p 114).
Elkins’ observation seems significant. For activism to succeed it
has to affect popular opinion radically, and attack the structures
of capitalist politics and the global economy, not just particular
issues or the effects of such a system at different times and in
different places. It must also, therefore, be a movement that lives
according to the ideal it promotes. Buddhist participation in
such activism would seem to necessitate understanding the
dharma to be spoken whenever wisdom is heard, whether
couched in Buddhist terminology or not. What effect does this
have on traditional understandings of Buddhism, its organization
and the interpretations of the teachings?
Certainly, what constitutes a sangha becomes a pertinent
question. The traditional monastic sangha, dependent for
support on the laity, with the monks’ and nuns’ work being
primarily that of offering an example and presence for the laity
of the renunciant life dedicated to non-worldliness, fits
awkwardly into the activist model - if at all.
Interpretation of the teachings suggesting that monastic
renunciant lifestyle is the most important aspect of the Buddha’s
message and that daily individual and collective practice should
reflect this certainly seems to require revision. Perhaps this is the
most singular aspect of ‘Westernized Buddhism’ to have
impacted on the tradition in the late twentieth and emergent
 twenty-first century. But it is not only Buddhist activism that has
196 begun to question radically what it means to be part of a
fi> sf Buddhist community and what a Buddhist community’s purpose
il is. Other strands in Western Buddhism have also questioned
I ft whether ‘dharma’ should in effect replace religious notions of
c §
‘Buddhism’, and whether traditional forms of ‘sangha’ are out
o “
• 8- of touch with the times.
■o

o
3 Feminist Buddhism
From a feminist perspective Rita Gross speaks of revalorizing
Buddhism which:
involves working with the categories and concepts of a
traditional religion in the light of feminist values ... to
revalorize is to have determined that, however sexist a
religious tradition may be, it is not irreparably so.
Revalorization is, in fact, doing that work of repairing
the tradition, often bringing it much more into line with
its own fundamental values and vision than was its
patriarchal form.
(Rita M. Gross, Buddhism After Patriarchy: A Feminist
History, Analysis and Reconstruction of Buddhism,
State University of New York Press, 1993, p 3)
Gross’ project is doing much more than suggesting things have
gone wrong because Buddhism hasn’t modernized. Rather, she
is determining a need to reconstruct the history of Buddhism as
well, in order to rid it of its patriarchal manipulation. She notes:
The single biggest difference between the practice of
Buddhism in Asia and the practice of Buddhism in the
West is the full and complete participation of women in
Western Buddhism.
(ibid., p 25)
Her point in reconstructing the history of Buddhism is so that
‘we can “get it right” this time’ (ibid., p 27). In particular, Gross
focuses on the importance of sangha and the need to reconsider
what a sangha should be like and what values it expresses and
embodies. Patriarchal Buddhism produces patriarchal sanghas,
which cannot appropriately represent or live out Buddhist
values in community. We might say that in her view they are like
dysfunctional families.
She advocates an ‘androgynous view’ in which Buddhism is
reconceptualized. She emphasizes the need to address sangha,
especially in relation to ordinary, everyday domestic life, much
197
more directly as a Buddhist problem and area of neglect (ibid., p ft* !■*
258). Adequate communal support systems are an issue of a3
importance for ‘psychological comfort’ and for overcoming =i
‘inappropriate loneliness and lack of in-depth communication’ g§
(ibid., pp 262-3). Reconceptualization of sangha amounts to 3 ,
O “
filling ‘the profound and provocative category “sangha” with ® &
•o
the feminist values of community, nurturance, communication, Oi

relationship, and friendship’ (ibid., p 265). For this one must o'
3
train, ‘it is by no means “natural”, especially for people trained
in a masculinist culture’ (ibid., p 267).
Her reconceptualization is radically anti-transcendentalist,
revealed in her suspicion of the influences of theism indicating a
lack of recognition of the tenet that: ‘Now it is important to
realize that to save ourselves by ourselves, it is necessary to
create the social, communal, and companionate matrix of a
society in which friendship and relationship are taken as
categories of the utmost spiritual importance’ (ibid., p 268).
This view is emphasized with a critique of sangha seen as ‘an
alienated glorifier of loneliness’ rather than a ‘matrix of
psychological comfort’ (ibid., p 268).
There is also a critique of the dominance of monasticism in
traditional Buddhism and neglect of lay society. She writes:
The form of serious lay Buddhist practice and the
transvaluation of values that comes with it will make
more explicit that Buddhist monks do not have a
monopoly on this level of spiritual development [luminous
everyday awareness].
(ibid., p 269)
The above possibility she identifies in the text of the Therigatha,
poems written by early Buddhist nuns (ibid., p 274). She gives a
new social and domestic meaning to the idea that enlightenment
is found in the everydayness of life by rejecting the traditional
distinction, or confusion, between ‘real practice’ and the tasks
of daily life through reflecting on the experience of mothering
and guilt over ‘not practising’ (ibid., p 277). She concludes that
the purpose of Buddhism in the modern world must change:
The final post-patriarchal question concerning spiritual
discipline asks ‘For what purpose?’ ... In fact the whole
orientation of practising a spiritual discipline to be
prepared for death will probably not survive into post-
patriarchal Buddhism. If a spiritual discipline promotes
wholeness and balance, tranquillity and a deep peace,
 that will be sufficient ... Out of that grows the caring for
198 community and for each other that is important for
0) d*
3o. 33 spiritual insight and well-being.
5-g: (ibid., p 288)
3! —■
c§
If Gross and Batchelor are right in relation to their comments on
o “
® OL
0) the future of Buddhism as a religion then certainly we will see a
significant shift in the way dharma is understood and practised
1
Hi*

o and in the organization and character of the sangha. There is no

3
doubt that the seeds of these interpretations were sown much
earlier, at the beginning of and throughout the twentieth
century, when Buddhism first impacted on the West. But at that
time, through to the 1950s, there was an enchantment with
Buddhism. It was an alternative to institutionalized spiritual
ideas that held no fascination for generations seeking liberation
from the established social and cultural order. Right through to
the 1960s and 70s there was still a romance associated with
Buddhism, but especially Zen, that suggested an alternative
lifestyle was possible which was not traditionally religious but
something new. Rick Field’s narrative history of Buddhism in
America is instructive in this respect, especially in the section I
paraphrase below.

In 1966 when Richard Baker started the project of the Tassajara

Zen Mountain Centre, in the wilderness of the Los Padres
National Forest in California, Robert Aitken wrote that: ‘The
development of the TZMC in a deep American forest marks the
transition of expatriate Buddhism to a native religious discipline
- the fulfilment of eighty years of Western Buddhist history.’ It
broke the rules and the mould of the traditional Zen monastery
with men, women and married couples. The training was more
individualistic and autonomous but it was a severe discipline to
sit from 4 am to 10 pm in zazen - just sitting ... It was,
romantically, an appeal to capture the original ethos and
practice of Zen. But it was a place for periods of intensive
training rather than monastic living. Returning to San Francisco
the support was gone ... Zen centres needed to be in the inner
city too (Rick Fields, How the Swans Came to the Lake,
Shambhala (3rd edn.), 1992, pp 159-266).

The above image of Western Buddhists seeking the tranquillity

of a mountain setting only to find themselves brought back to
earth in the city does suggest, with hindsight, that the dharma
and the sangha need to be situated where people actually live
out their everyday lives. Taking this notion further what might
be termed postmodern Zen’, in which the individual
appropriates Zen into his or her overall lifestyle, today perhaps
199
most interestingly typified by that dark troubadour icon Q) St
Leonard Cohen, now a Zen priest as well as a singer-songwriter, 3 33
O.
is an attractive idea but it bears the marks of Western
individualism to such a degree that it is not embedded in any
meaningful social reality. As Fields further observed concerning
Zen in the 1960s:
To a certain extent, the Zen Buddhists of the sixties
presented a united front. But just beneath the smooth 3

surface, none of it ever becoming public, there were

stirrings of scandal, rivalries, hints of incompetence.
(ibid., p 246)

So, there is no escaping the old samsaric problems by virtue of

seeking to create an alternative lifestyle or community. It is
necessary to ask not just ‘What is the right dharma or sangha?’
but ‘What is the dharma or sangha forV As a way of looking out
from ourselves to the world. At the beginning of the twenty-first
century the latter question seems to me the right one to ask. In
the West, during its first-century infancy, perhaps there has been
a tendency to be too beguiled by the first. We have no Buddha-
eye view of the future but a useful starting point for reflecting
on the above question is this statement by the Dalai Lama:
Actually, I believe there is an important distinction to be
made between religion and spirituality. Religion I take to
be concerned with faith in the claims of salvation of one
faith tradition or another, an aspect of which is
acceptance of some form of metaphysical or supernatural
reality, including perhaps an idea of heaven or nirvana.
Connected with this are religious teachings or dogma,
ritual, prayer, and so on. Spirituality I take to be
concerned with those qualities of the human spirit - such
as love and compassion, patience, tolerance, forgiveness,
contentment, a sense of responsibility, a sense of harmony
- which bring happiness both to self and others. While
ritual and prayer, along with questions of nirvana and
salvation, are directly connected to religious faith, these
inner qualities need not be, however.

(The Dalai Lama, Ethics for the New Millennium,

Riverhead Books, 1999, p 22; also quoted in Thupten
Jinpa, The Dalai Lama: Dimensions of Spirituality, in C.
Erricker and J. Erricker (eds), Contemporary
Spiritualities: Religious and Social Contexts,
Continuum, 2001)
 The import of this statement takes us back to the contemporary
200 scenario outlined at the beginning of this chapter. It would seem
0) & that whether dharma does or does not continue to be cloaked in
gO. 33
-• <0 religious form, organization and convention is not the
3 W
C | significant issue, but whether those qualities of the human spirit
s-
o ®
the Dalai Lama refers to continue to be manifest is. Whether
© & ‘Buddhism’ or ‘dharma practice’ can make the world in the
■o

s
ai

O3
twenty-first century a better place than it was in the twentieth is
a question for Buddhists as much as for anyone else. What
forms of Buddhism contribute effectively to this goal remains to
be seen.

This chapter has focused on the question of how Buddhism is

meeting the challenges of the modern world. It is useful, at this
point, to remind ourselves that the Buddha described his
teaching as the Middle Way. This suggests that it is a
reconciliation of opposites. In the light of this you may find it a
useful exercise to go back to the quotation ascribed to the
Buddha at the beginning of Chapter 1 and read it while
comparing it to the above quotation from the Dalai Lama and
ask ‘How do I put these two statements alongside each other?’
 ^taking it further
Further reading
Introductory
Buddhism Without Beliefs: A Contemporary Guide to
Awakening S. Batchelor, Bloomsbury, 1998. This book puts
the case for understanding dharma in a non-religious fashion
with relevance to the contemporary West.
The Awakening of the West: the Encounter of Buddhism and
Western Culture S. Batchelor, Aquarian, 1994. A substantial
but very accessible survey of the way in which the West first
encountered Buddhism and the development then on until the
present day.
How the Swans Came to the Lake: A Narrative History of
Buddhism in America R. Fields, Shambhala (3rd edn.), 1992.
This is an excellent historical commentary on the
development and diversity of Buddhism in the United States.
The Dhammapada Narada Thera, John Murray, 1972. This
is one of a number of translations of this popular and
important collection of some of the Buddha’s sayings.
What the Buddha Taught W. Rahula, Wisdom Books, 1985.
The latest reprint of an authoritative and readable
introduction to the Buddha’s fundamental teachings.
The Buddha M. Carrithers, Oxford University Press, 1983.
A valuable account of the life of the Buddha and the
development of his teaching.
The Buddhist Handbook J. Snelling, Rider, 1987. An
introduction to the main schools of Buddhism, their teachings
and practices.
A.h Introduction to Buddhism: Teachings, History and Practices
P. Harvey, Cambridge University Press, 1990. A more detailed
introduction to the tradition as a whole.
Being Nobody, Going Nowhere Ayya Khema, Wisdom
Publications, 1987. A very useful and practical guide to Buddhist
meditation by a Buddhist nun.
A Guide to the Buddhist Path Ven. Sangharakshita, Windhorse
Publications, 1990. A collection of talks given by the author on
aspects of Buddhist teaching and practice, from the perspective
of the FWBO.
Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind Shunryu Suzuki, Weatherhill, 1982.
A collection of influential talks on Zen meditation and practice
by a respected Japanese master.
The Buddhist Directory The Buddhist Society, London. This
directory is updated every few years. It gives information of
Buddhist groups and centres in the UK and Ireland.
The World of Buddhism H. Bechert and R. Gombrich (eds),
Thames and Hudson, 1984. A large-format, beautifully
illustrated survey of Buddhism.
Buddhists in Britain Today D. Cush, Hodder & Stoughton,
1990. A very readable collection of interviews with British
Buddhists.
Buddhism (A Student's Approach to World Religions series) D.
Cush, Hodder &c Stoughton, 1994. A substantial but readable
introduction to Buddhism.
Buddhism P. Morgan, Batsford, 1987. A dictionary with
explanations of key terms in Buddhism.
Buddhism: Beliefs and Practice Merv Fowler, Sussex Academic
Press, 1999. A scholarly but accessible introduction covering the
life of the historical Buddha, the historical development of
Buddhism and the teachings of the different schools.
Food for the Heart: the Collected Techniques of Ajahn Chah
Ajahn Chah, Wisdom Publications, 2002. A posthumous
collection of the teachings of the founder of the Thai Forest
Retreat Order.
The Power of Buddhism His Holiness the Dalai Lama and Jean-
Claude Carriere, Doubleday, 1996. A collection of dialogues on
contemporary issues from a Buddhist perspective, translated
from the French edition.
More specific studies
Theravada Buddhism: A Social History from Ancient Benares to
Modern Colombo R. Gombrich, Routledge, 1988. A more
detailed investigation of the development of this branch of
Buddhism.
Mahayana Buddhism: the Doctrinal Foundations R Williams,
Routledge, 1989. A survey of the diversity and complexity of the
Mahayana.
Ethics for the New Millennium His Holiness the Dalai Lama,
Riverhead Books, 1999. A most significant book in which the
Dalai Lama distinguishes between religion and ethics, on a
Buddhist basis, and appeals against sectarianism.
Buddhism After Patriarchy: A Feminist History, Analysis, and
Reconstruction of Buddhism R. M. Gross, State University of
New York Press, 1993. An important text for understanding
feminist arguments within contemporary Buddhism.
Beyond Optimism: A Buddhist Political Ecology K. Jones, Jon
Carpenter Publishers, 1993. An ecological approach to Buddhist
activism drawing on Buddhist and non-Buddhist influential
figures.
Buddhism in America: the Social Organization of an Ethnic
Religious Institution T. Kashima, Greenwood Press, 1977. A rare
in-depth longitudinal study of ‘migrant’ Buddhism in the
twentieth century.
Buddhism Betrayed? Religion, Politics and Violence in Sri
Lanka S. J. Tambiah, University of Chicago Press, 1992. An
important commentary on Buddhist nationalism in relation to
traditional Buddhist understandings.
Zen Tradition and Transition: An Overview of Zen in the
Modern World K. Kraft (ed.), Rider, 1992. A diverse
collection of essays on Zen; not entirely what it says since
some are historical, written in differing styles but of a high
standard.
Transforming the Mind: Teachings on Generating
Compassion His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Thorsens, 2000.
This collection is about transformation and its basis in
compassion, or altruism, and insight. A more technically
Buddhist collection of teachings than the above.
Contemporary Spiritualities: Religious and Social Contexts
C. Erricker and J. Erricker (eds), Continuum, 2001. This
volume contains two chapters on Buddhism. One is on the
Dalai Lama as a contemporary spiritual leader by his former
chief interpreter, Thupten Jinpa. The other is a case study of
the Thai Forest Retreat Order founded by Ajahn Chah,
written by Clive Erricker.
Contemporary Buddhist Ethics Damien Kowen (ed.), Curzon,
2000. A range of essays on moral issues from Buddhist
perspectives. It also explores the nature and development of
Buddhist ethics.
Essence of the Heart Sutra His Holiness the Dalai Lama,
Wisdom Publications, 2002. A commentary by the Dalai Lama
on one of the classic, central texts of the Mahayana tradition.
The Tibet Guide Stephen Batchelor, Wisdom Publications,
1987. A travel guide to visiting Tibet, but it also has an excellent
section on the history of Tibet and an introduction to Tibetan
Buddhism.

Meditation and education

The two following books are useful in introducing children to
meditation techniques.

Teaching Meditation to Children David Fontana and Ingrid

Slack, Element Books, 1997. This is a practical guide to the use
and benefits of meditation technique. It gives practical examples
of meditational activities with children and reports on their
effects. An excellent handbook. Primarily aimed at parents but
useful for anyone working with children.

Meditation in Schools: Calmer Classrooms Clive and Jane

Erricker (eds), Continuum, 2001. This book is structured to give
practical activities that can be used by teachers in relation to
subject and cross-curricula learning. Also useful for parents and
home educators.

Non-Buddhist studies of related interest

The Pimlico History of the Twentieth Century C. Pontin,
Pimlico, 1999. A very thorough analysis of themes, issues and
events in the twentieth century and the impact, in particular,
of war and political and economic change on the conditions
in which people have lived.
No Logo: Taking Aim at the Brand Bullies N. Klein,
Flamingo, 2000. Klein exposes the greed and corporate
control of the multinational companies, the exploitation they
employ and the effect of this on both Western consciousness
and Third World conditions.

Captive State: the Corporate Takeover of Britain G. Monbiot,

Macmillan, 2000. Monbiot, in an analysis not dissimilar to
Klein’s, researches and presents the corporate power affecting
political decisions and local communities in the British Isles.

Useful addresses
The addresses below provide information on specific centres
related to branches of Buddhism in the United Kingdom. For
information on centres elsewhere in the world consult the
website addresses section. On the Internet there are also
location specific centres worldwide.

Amaravati Buddhist Monastery, Great Gaddesden, Flemel

Hempstead, Hertfordshire HP1 3BZ.
Angulimala, The Buddhist Prison Chaplaincy Organisation, The
Forest Hermitage, Lower Fulbrook, Warwick, Warwickshire
CV35 8AS.
Buddhapadipa Temple, 14 Calone Road, Wimbledon, London
SW19 5HJ.
Buddhist Hospice Trust, 5 Grayswood Point, Norley Vale,
Roehampton, London SW15 4BT.

The Buddhist Society, 58 Ecclestone Square, London, SW1V

1PH.
The Friends of the Western Buddhist Order, Lesingham House,
Surlingham, Norwich NR 14 7AL.

International Zen Association, UK, 91-93 Gloucester Road,

Bishopston, Bristol, Greater Bristol BS7 8AT.

Kagyu Samye Ling Tibetan Centre, Eskdalemuir, Langholm,

Dumfriesshire, Scotland DG13 0QL.

Manjushri Mahayana Buddhist Centre, Conishead Priory,

Priory Road, Ulverston, Cumbria LA12 9QQ.
 Network of Engaged Buddhists (UK), Plas Plwca, Cwmrheidol,
206 Aberystwyth, Dyfed SY23 3NB.
ST
7T
mm * Network of Buddhist Organisations UK, The Old Courthouse,
3
(Q 43 Renfrew Road, Kennington, London SE11 4NA.
»
C Pure Land Buddhist Foundation of Great Britain, 48
a.
<t>
Laburnham Crescent, Kettering, Northamptonshire NN1 69PJ.
Sakyadita: International Association of Buddhist Women (UK),
16 Nun Street, Lancaster, Lancashire LAI 3PJ.
Throssel Hole Priory, Carrshield, Hexham, Northumberland
NE47 8AL.
For further information on regional groups consult The
Buddhist Directory, published by the Buddhist Society or
Religions in the UK: A Multi-Faith Directory, Paul Weller (ed.),
available from the University of Derby, Mickleover, Derby DE3
5GX, in association with the Inter-Faith Network for the United
Kingdom, 5-7 Tavistock Place, London WC1H 9SN.

Website addresses
If you put ‘Buddhist Centres’ into a search engine it will (at the
time of writing) give you 4,700 websites worldwide. Some of
these overlap, others are location specific. Below are some
useful starting points for exploring the network of Buddhist
centres and publications on Buddhism from which you can
proceed to more specific interests.

http://www.ciolek.com/WWWVL-Buddhism.html
This is the Buddhist Studies Virtual Library, which provides
listings of information facilities in Buddhism and Buddhist
studies.

http://www. buddhanet. net

This is an information network that provides various
meditation techniques, teachings, event information and contact
details. It has directories for different parts of the world.

http://www.meta.co.uk/retreats.asp
Provides a collection of retreat and meditation centres: Buddhist
based and open.
http:/Iwivw. dharmanet. org/infoweb.html
A Buddhist InfoWeb providing information on Buddhist
organizations from different traditions.

http://www.nibbana.commeditatabn.htm
This is a Dhamma Publications website that advertises meditation
and retreat centres.

http://jetairtours.com/buddhist.htm
This Jetair Tours site has information on tours of Buddhist sites
in India.

h ttp://www. wisdompubs. org

This is the website of Wisdom Publications, which allows you to
browse its catalogue and order online.
 208
glossary

Note: (P) and (S) refer to Pali and Sanskrit respectively.

Abhidamma (P), Abhidharma (S) Buddhist philosophical texts.

Amitabha Buddha of the Pure Land.
Anagarika Literally, ‘wandering one’, a truth seeker,
anapanasati Meditation on the breath,
anatta The doctrine of no-self,
anlcca Change, impermanence.
Anuradhapura Ancient capital of Sri Lanka, and a place of
pilgrimage.
arahant (Arhat) One who has achieved liberation.
Ashoka Buddhist Emperor of India.
Avalokiteshvara (Chenrezig) Bodhisattva of Compassion.
bardo The state between death and rebirth mentioned in the
Bardo Thodol (Tibetan Book of the Dead).
bhavana Mental development or meditation.
bhikkhu (M), bhikkhuni (F) A monk or nun in the Theravadin
tradition.
Bodh Gaya The place of the Buddha’s Enlightenment,
bodhi Enlightenment.
Bodhidharma An Indian monk who took Buddhism to China
in the sixth century CE.
bodhisattva A being with the essence of enlightenment.
Buddha Enlightened One.
chela Pupil of a guru.
Dalai Lama Head of Tibetan Buddhism; incarnation of the
Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara.
dana Literally, ‘giving’ or ‘generosity’; the only meal of the day
209
for Theravadin monks. <o
darsana A teaching or ‘sermon’; discourse of the Buddha. o
(0
0)
S)
dependent origination The process of the cycle of samsaric -5
existence, also called ‘conditioned co-production’.
devas Gods.
dhamma (P), dharma (S) The teaching of the Buddha; the Truth
or Law.
Dhammapada Popular collection of the Buddha’s teachings.
Dharmachari Literally, ‘dharma farer’; the title given to Order
members of the FWBO.
Dharamsala The Indian Himalayan town where the Dalai Lama
has his palace in exile.
dukkha Suffering, unsatisfactoriness, dis-ease; the First Noble
Truth.
Guru Spiritual teacher or master.
Hui-Neng Sixth Patriarch of the Zen tradition.
Jatakas Tales of the Buddha’s former lives.
kamma (P), karma (S) Literally means ‘action’; the Law of Cause
and Effect.
Kangyur Tibetan Scriptures,
karuna Compassion.
Kathina Literally means ‘difficult’ or ‘frame’. The robe-giving
ceremony in Theravada Buddhism.
koan A ‘riddle’ or technique used in Zen Buddhism.
kusala (P), kausalya (S) Skilfulness.
Lao Tzu Taoist teacher.
Losar Tibetan New Year.
Lotus Sutra, or ‘Saddharmapundarika’ Literally, the ‘Lotus of
the True Law’; important Mahayana Scripture.
Lumbini The place of the Buddha’s birth.
magga Literally, ‘path’; refers to the Eightfold Path in
Buddhism; the fourth Noble Truth.
Mahayana Literally, ‘The Great Way’; one of the main branches
of Buddhism.
mandala Literally means ‘circle’; a design used for meditation in
Mahayana Buddhism.
Manjushri Bodhisattva of Wisdom.
Mara Lord of Death.
Maya Illusion or creative play of the universe.
mendicant One who relies on others for his material and
physical needs.
merit Reward for good deed; store of goodness,
metta Loving kindness.
Milinda King who features in the Theravada Scriptures in
dialogue with the Buddhist monk, Nagasena.
mitra Literally, ‘friend’; term used by the FWBO.
mondo Story used in Zen Buddhism.
Nagasena Buddhist monk.
nibbana (P), nirvana (S) Literally, ‘to extinguish’; enlightenment,
nirodha The third Noble Truth; letting go of suffering.
Padmasambhava Tibetan saint.
Pali Language of the Theravada Scriptures, also thought to have
been used by the Buddha.
paranibbana (P), paranirvana Passing into nirvana upon death.
prajna Wisdom.
precepts Rules of behaviour.
pretas Hungry ghosts.
puja Worship.
relics Holy objects; remains of the Buddha or a great Buddhist
teacher.
refuge Refers to the Three Jewels as Refuges; that in which one
can trust.
sadhu Holy man.
Sakyamuni Title given to the Buddha, literally, ‘Sage of the
Sakya clan’.
samanera Literally ‘child of a Samana’ (religious seeker); refers
to a novice monk.
samatha Calm, inner peace; form of meditation technique,
samsara Cycle of existence.
samudaya The second Noble Truth; the origin of suffering,
sangha The Buddhist community or order,
shastras Commentaries on the Buddha’s teachings,
Siddhatta Gotama (P), Siddhartha Gautama (S) Name of the
211
historical Buddha. <o
sila Ethical Conduct; second part of the Eightfold Path. o
0)
0)
0)
sima Ordination area in Theravada Buddhism. *5
skandhas The five elements that constitute a person.
stupa Burial mound or building to house relics; also called a
chorten or chedi.
Sukhavati The Pure Land.
sukkha Happiness, bliss or ease; the opposite of dukkha.
sunyata Voidness.
sutta (P), sutra (S) Literally means ‘thread’; name for the
Buddhist Scriptures.
tanha Thirst or craving.
Tantra Form of Tibetan Buddhist practice and name of a type of
scripture.
Tao Literally, ‘The Way’; a Chinese tradition that influenced Zen
Buddhism.
Tara Female bodhisattva, ‘Mother of Compassion’; there are
two Taras, Green Tara and White Tara.
Tathagatha Literally, ‘Thus Gone One’; title given to the
Buddha.
Tengyur Name of the shastras in Tibetan Buddhism.
Theravada ‘Way of the Elders’; branch of Buddhism.
Tsongkhapa Tibetan saint and teacher.
tulku The rebirth of a great teacher in Tibetan Buddhism,
especially the Dalai Lama.
upaya Skill in means.
Uposatta Weekly days of observance based on the lunar cycle;
full-moon days are the most important,
vihara Monastic residence.
vinaya Code of Monastic Discipline laid down by the Buddha,
vipassana Insight, form of meditation.
Wesak Theravada festival celebrating birth, enlightenment and
death of the Buddha.
Zen Japanese form of Buddhism; from the Chinese ‘ch’an’ and
Sanskrit ‘dhyana’, meaning meditation.
212

■M ■

3
a
o
x Abhidamma, (P) Abhidharma (S) 63 Buddhist activism 193-4,196
abortion 123 Buddhist Society (UK) 166
agnosticism 192
ajiveka 31 capital punishment 121-2
altruistic sacrifice 126 celibacy 130-1
Ambedkar (Dr) 165,180 Ch’an 74
Amitabha 73 chang 158
anagarika 23 chedi 143
Anagarika Dharmapala 167 Chenresig 127,169
Ananda 34, 59, 63 Chokhor 158
Ananda Metteyya 166 chorten 168
anapanasati 89 Cohen, Leonard 199
anatta 39,104 Confucianism 159
anicca 37, 39
Anuradhapura 20 Dalai Lama 14, 81, 143-5, 155,
arahant (arhat) 65, 88 168-9, 199-200
Asala 151 dana 121,137
Ashoka 33, 81,150 darsana 36, 50-1
auto-cremation 126 death and dying 140-1
Avalokiteshvara (Chenresig) 66, 68, dependent origination 49,105
111,127,169,173 devas 30
dhamma (P), dharma (S) x, 2-4, 10,
bardo 83-4 17-18, 28-9, 31, 71-2, 83, 106,
bhavana 88,100,102,108 107, 111, 116, 136, 148, 149, 162,
bhikkhu (m), bhikkuni (f) 7, 33, 36, 167, 175, 177, 178
37, 87, 130, 152-3 Dhammapada 3, 40, 60-7,124
Bodh Gaya 28, 31 Dharamsala 159,165,169-70
bodhi 15,25 Dharmachari (m), Dharmacharini (f)
Bodhidharma 75 177
bodhisattva 63-72,93,95,110,126, Dharma Day 163
127,162 Dharmakaya 70
Bon 81 dharmas 107
Brahma 15, 57 dhyana 74
Buddha Day 163 Diamond Sutra 67
Buddhaghosa 121 dona 30-1
Buddha groves 122 dorje 159
dukkha 37-9,109,179 Kuan Yin 95-7,127
Dzamling Chisang 157 kusala (P), kausalya (S) (skilfulness) 213
saa

102-5,110,112-13 3

ecology 118 Kusinara 34

engaged Buddhism 193-6
lama 81,171
family life 131-5 LaoTzu 75
feminist Buddhism 196-8 Lhabap 158
Fire Sermon 51 Lhasa 158
Four Noble Truths 37-8 Loi Kratong 154
funeral rites 141-3 Losar 155-7
FWBO (Friends of the Western Lotus Sutra 70-4
Buddhist Order) 99-100, 128, Lumbini 160-1
130-1, 135, 139, 147, 163, 166,
176-81 magga (noble eightfold path) 54-5,
102, 111
gandharva 30 Magha Puja 155
Geluk 82 Maha-Bodhi Society 167
gender equality 126-9 Mahamaya 21,160
ghats 22 Mahayana 61, 65-73, 81-2,171
globalisation 183 Mahinda 150
Gongyo 74 Manjushri 66
Guru Rimpoche (Padmasambhaya) Mara 57,126
158-9 marriage 131
gutuk 156 Maudgalyayana (Mu-lien) 161-2
maya 48
haiku 81 meditation 5, 85-101
Hana Matsuri 160-1 mendicant 24,177
Heart Sutra 67-8 mercy killing 123
Hinayana 71 merit 141
Hui-neng 76-7 metta 93,113,178
mettabhavana 93-4
imprisonment 121-2 Middle Way 36
migrant Buddhism 185
Japanese Buddhist Churches of Milinda 42
America 185-8 mindfulness 5, 10-11, 57-8, 88-91,
Jatakas 45, 62-5,126,132,154-5 98
mitra 163,178
Kagya 82 mondo 77, 91
kamma (P), karma (S) 43-4, 105,
116, 120, 140 Nagarjuna 66,124
Kangyur 82 nagas 66
karuna (compassion) 11-15, 116, Nagasena 42, 52
123 nats 152
Kathina 152-4 Ngacho Chenmo 158
kesa 176 nibbana (P), nirvana (S) 17-18,51-4,
Khanna 22 59, 66-7,105,125-6
Khatag 156 Nichiren Daishonin 74
Kisagotami 13-15 nidanas 49
koan 79-80 Nirmanakaya 70
nirodha 50 satori 76
nivarana (Five Hindrances) 54 Schumacher, E.F. 194
Nyingma 82 Scientism 192
shastras 82
ordination 130 Shinto 160
shrine 137,153,163
Padmasabhava 81,158-9 Siddhatta Gotama (P), Siddhartha
Pali 62,136,180 Gautama (S) 20-8, 70,140
Parable of the Raft 17 Sigolovada Suttanta 132,137
paranibbana (P), paranirvana (S) 34, sila 54-8,102-4,116
61 sima 130
Patimokkha 130 Singhalese Buddhist(s) 189
perahara 150 Slvaraksa, Sulak 195
Poson 150 skandhas 39
prajna 11, 54 Soto Zen 80,141,166
prajna-paramita 65, 67 Sri Lanka 127,148,154,188-90
precepts 6-9,102,107,123,136 stupa 141-3
pretas (hungry ghosts) 46,161-2 Suddhodhama 21
puja 97-9,137,163,178 suicide 124-6
Pure Land School 73-4 Sukhavati 73
Sukhavativyu ha Sutras 73-4
ragyapa 168 sukkha 37, 73
Rajgir 61 sunyata 67
rebirth 44-5,143-5 sutta (P), sutra (S) 36, 62, 72
refuge 4-6,137
relics 141-3 Tamils 188-91
Rinzai 80 tanha 44
rupa 122,137 Tantra 83
Tao 75,159
sacca 108 Tara 68-9,127
sadhu 21, 24, 25 Tathagatha 28, 72
Saga Dawa 157 Tengyur 82
sakya 82 thangkas 159
Sakyamuni 147,161 Theravada 62-5, 127, 147, 165-7,
salla 112 173-5
samadhi 54 Therigatha 197
samanera 7 Thich Nhat Hanh 194-5
samatha 12,91 Three Jewels 3-4,162-3,176
Sambhogakaya 70 Three Rufuges 4-5,162
samsara 22, 45, 49, 91, 61 torma 157
samudaya 37-8 Trikaya 70
sangha 3-5, 25, 33, 68,127,130-1, Tsongkhapa 158
143, 165, 168, 175, 177-8, 183, tulku 143-5
189,195-8 Tushita 158
Sangha Day 163
Sangharakshita (Ven.) 167,176,180 untouchables (harijans) 165,179-80
Sanskrit 66,176 upajjhaya 130
santutthi 108 upaka 31
Sarnath 15 upaya 15, 29, 71
sati 108 Uposatta 147-8
Valkali 125-6
Vas (Rains Retreat) 151-2,158
vegetarianism 118-21
vesali 61
Vessantara 126,154-5
vihara 136,165
vinaya 33, 61-2,130-1,155
vipassana 12, 91
visualisation 94-5

war 123-4
Wesak 149-50,157
Wheel of Becoming 46-50,105

xylographs 158

yaksa 30
Yama 26, 50
Yasodhara 21

zazen 80,198
Zen 16-17, 73-81, 87, 130, 165,
166-7, 198-9
zortormas 156
. ' .
 Buddhism
clive erricker

• Would you like to discover the Buddha and his teachings?

• Do you want an introduction to Buddhist values and practices?
• Do you want to understand the relevance of Buddhism in the
modern world?

Buddhism is an in-depth guide to what Buddhists think, what

they do, and how they live. It covers the diversity of Buddhism,
and how it has adapted to its growing global presence and new
cultural environments. This book encourages you to examine
Buddhism for yourself and understand its value in today’s world.

Clive Erricker has written extensively on Buddhism and other

religious traditions as well as on religious and spiritual education.

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