How to Reach Enlightenment

Sun, 04 Apr 2004 14:14:36 GMT

Floating jeweled towers, green men in meditation, rice cakes – all of these are images of RLG 371. Was the hunched back, tense shoulders and shaky hands a worthwhile weekly experience? Did the late Monday night postings add anything to the course beyond stress? Quite often the readings faced left more confusion and questions than there were at the start. What became increasingly interesting was how there came an illusion that the content took a backseat to the courses format.The questions were centered, not around a specific Buddhist view, but around the historical importance of it, the style it was written in, it’s relevance and historical truth. I say this was an illusion because in reality, by looking at these topics, a greater understanding of the content itself was possible and in fact, without understanding these outside topics it would be impossible to fully examine the content in its own context. By reading a selection, generally from a translation of a Buddhist text, and being asked to write a reflection on it, it was not only the doctrine and Buddhist beliefs being taught, but an examination of style as it relates to content, caution towards misinterpretation and praise of original thought as well. When compared to other classes where the instructor holds all authority over a subject and lectures are individually and mindlessly absorbed, East Asian Buddhism’s format allowed for a mutual learning experience not only among fellow classmates but through the open communication between teacher and student. In the Buddhist vein, it seems that the hands on, experiential routine of reflection on the weekly material was the very reason for the information becoming so much more than just words to be memorized for later tests.

The ability to write in a style less formal and more open to questioning was a very positive aspect. Instead of always having to prove and back up an idea within the strict guideline of a formal essay, blogging allows for random thoughts to be developed and later questioned when new information and thoughts arise. This is important in the learning process because it does not inhibit new ideas that may turn out to be wrong. In a typical setting, a shaky idea would be best kept quiet until proven by supporting information. This is particularly stifling for a shy person who feels confident speaking only when an idea is rock solid. Within the context of a journal though, like a personal diary, no thoughts need to be left unwritten because they are all relevant to either learning in the present or in the future by way of retrospective realization. The blogging process is one that must be reflected on as whole. One individual journal may not provide insight to the advantages to the learning process that blogging provides but when a group of them are read together it is possible to tangibly see results. Just as the human story of Milarepa’s struggles allowed it to be related to directly by readers which results in better understanding, the material of the course is able to be related to and understood better through the personal, connecting nature of blogs.

As for my personal experience, blogging concretely taught lessons to me which before had been mostly theoretical. Lessons not only about how to read primary sources but how not to read them became very important. In the beginning I was ready to analyze the actual information within the texts, which I soon learned would be quite impossible without extensive knowledge on the given subjects. I could comment on how a specific doctrine was interesting or seemed contradictory to what I knew about Buddhism but each time I would be proven wrong. There is almost nothing contradictory in Buddhism when you look at it as a whole. In fact, a good chunk of Buddhist texts have been written to try to harmonize the religion’s many schools and the concept of expedient means throws any argument of contradiction out the window. For example, I thought I knew Buddhism as a religion not interested in the material world and yet almost every text we read had traces of material object worship. The Lotus Sutra was strewn with jewels; Milarepa had scenes of drunken parties and bargaining with teachers for their knowledge with precious gifts, as if the teachings could be bought; according to Dogen the universe is one bright pearl. These things all bothered me at first but the more I read the more I realized that what is written and what is done, what is said and what is meant, in Buddhism, do not always mean the same thing. It was as this realization occurred that I began to look more to the purpose of the writings, the style of the writings, to study them in a more historical way instead of for what they meant within the religion itself. By stepping out to an examination of the historical context and what the style meant for the teachings, my blogs soon taught me more than just Buddhism alone. I learned that Buddhist texts are written for various reasons, not only for the dissemination of doctrine. I-Ching’s biography held listing accounts of Buddhist activity as they related to their surrounding world and painted a great, connecting political, social and religious landscape of the time. This reading forced students to learn how important it is to decipher the purpose of a piece of writing and to ponder the definition of what history really is. Through conflicting interpretations and discrepancies within the texts themselves, it was learned that not only is there a subjectivity problem on the part of the reader, but there may also be a discrepancy between what an author writes and what the actual truth is based on his/her own bias or differing purposes for writing.

Another catalyst for recognizing the many cautions that must be observed when reading the material was found in reviewing other students’ blogs. At first the idea of being evaluated by my peers was a tad daunting because these are the people that I should be performing equally to and if I didn’t it would mean that I was not doing as well; being marked by a teacher who is supposed to know more and is thus qualified to mark you accordingly is easier to take than getting a bad review from someone you should be able to be equal to. But very quickly, the dynamics of my group allowed for a relaxed setting and with certain personalities forming within it, conclusions came to the surface that we were all going to see things a little differently than each other and most of the time when one didn’t understand the reading other people were having trouble as well. Regarding prompt posting, the group could work out to be either a positive or somewhat negative influence because of a group mentality that made it ok to do something if everyone else in the group was too. Meaning, posting would commence as soon as the first persons post was up. If Monday night came and no one had finished yet, it made it a less pressing task until someone finally posted later that week. As far as the content of my groups posts is concerned that is where lessons were learned pertaining to the process of interpretation.

Even without habitual and timely postings from all members, personalities could be seen and provided insight into the nature of studying texts. Mainly, what I take from a text based on my own experiences and interests is going to be very different from what someone else will focus on. The same general material will be covered but with different spins and takes on it. From the very beginning, Caroline’s journal was a source of succinct analysis and often lead to a more clear understanding of a given topic for me. In her first entry on Dogen’s Sounds of Valley Streams, the idea she presented about the “simplicity and coherency of reality” lead to her conclusion that “Dogens’s view of the oneness of reality could be [an] … example of the logical and simplistic organization of phenomena in the world.” Following from that, my own blog that week spoke about how this oneness of reality could be a major force for popularizing the religion and appealing to the masses who could all benefit from it. I felt that Caroline’s interpretatin of the text fell in line with my thoughts and accepting lead me to think less about the content and more about the style of the piece. Everyone I spoke with understood Dogen’s ideas however, reading his actual writings was proving to be a strenuous task. If Dogen’s purpose was to bring mass appeal, then it was bothersome to me that the material was so hard to comprehend. With Caroline’s post, the possibility became clear to me that “our inability to comprehend his actual writings says less about our intelligence and more about the foreignness of the writing style, a style which may well have been a lot more common to most people at that time.” Whether this is true or not remains to be seen, but, the point is that through the experience of reading other people’s blogs on the same subject, I was able to progress my own thinking. In fact, I continued it through to my further readings of Dogen and my second post on Sounds of Valley Streams delved even more into the realm of problematic word usage as it relates to our misunderstanding of the message but works for his contemporary readers. Caroline’s blog was more than once a cause for me to rethink my ideas of how the texts should be read and what information should be pulled from them.

Another source for a more rounded understanding of the texts was Lisa’s journal which was very good at honing in on specific topics and word usage. Again in reference to Dogen, the most difficult reading and to me the most important reading in relation to classmates’ blogs because of that difficulty to interpret it, Lisa commented on the use of so many different words for one concept, that being enlightenment. This focus brought me to a closer understanding of word usage and the Buddhist view towards language in general. Lisa equated the popularity and importance of the concept within a group had a direct correlation to the reason for the large number of words for it. This was backed up by the example of the Inuit’s extensive vocabulary to express “snow.” While this makes complete sense to me, it was not the first thing I thought of when encountering the abundance of terms for enlightenment. To me it meant that enlightenment is that which cannot be fully described by one word or by language at all and therefore many words and descriptions are needed. The variety of words used could also mean that enlightenment means something different to different people or groups of believers. The whole topic of word usage and language reinforced a continuing theme within the course relating to Buddhist views towards language and that’s what my interpretations were based on; they were based on a general Buddhist feeling that language is an inadequate method of expressing ideas which go beyond linguistics. Lisa’s journal opened me up to yet another interpretation and drove home the fact that each of us within the group saw the material from different perspectives.

This idea that each person would draw separate and distinct ideas from the same material, also lead to thoughts about current testing methods and highlighted the positive nature of learning through the use of blogs or journals. Common tests that serve to evaluate how well material is memorized are highly dangerous in consideration of the fact that each student brings a different perspective to the material and so takes something different from it. A test that is meant to have one right answer then is dangerous and doesn’t allow for the uniqueness of the student or the varied abilities of students in general by forcing each student to plainly memorize facts so they all have the same answer. To me, blogging does allow for uniqueness and fosters a greater understanding of not only the course material but learning in general through its allowance and praise of personal interpretation and insight. So, yes, the hunched backs, tense shoulders and shaky hands were worth it and were a labor of learning that I greatly appreciated.

Sharf

Wed, 31 Mar 2004 01:12:57 GMT

Sharf’s article draws attention to a similar topic I also found worth mentioning in my entry about Dogen’s writings. It became clear to me over the course of these last few readings that the meaning one gets from a text could very well just be whatever meaning the reader themselves put into it; that is to say, that many times what an author writes and what a reader reads are not necessarily going to hold the same intended meaning. Not only is there the subjectivity problem on the part of the reader, but there may also be a discrepancy between what an author writes and what the actual truth is. That said I may give up reading for academic purposes altogether because it seems I will inevitably succumb to my own or the authors subjectivity or the difference between history and historical texts.

Prior to reading Sharf, the ideas about Buddhism, its different schools and their debates over sudden versus gradual or study versus meditation seemed to make sense to me and the information I was reading, I felt, could be trusted. Post Sharf, I’m not so sure I know anything about Buddhism and what defines the various types. I’m troubled to think that what I took as primary sources, actual Buddhist texts holding actual Buddhist thought that translates to Buddhist practice, may indeed just be Western spins on what classical Buddhism was actually like. It’s that exact thought, that Buddhist texts translate directly to Buddhist practice, which is faulty.

Sharf is essentially saying that it is a gross exaggeration and misunderstanding of text to hold that meditation is meant to “induce certain religious experiences” (229) and to believe that this meditative experience is the central focus or main goal of Buddhism. Right from the start Sharf puts doubt into this line of thinking, of making the meaning of Buddhism be all about an “inner” experience, by pointing out that it exploits a common flaw in the fact checking system. Anything based on personal experience cannot be proven or disproven. It is not only impossible to prove an inner experience’s existence externally, making critique of the religion’s practice impossible as well, but to then write as if it is possible to prove is ignoring the fact that what is being written about is something described to cause the “utter cessation of physical and mental processes” making “a first person description of such a state…a logical impossibility.” (237)

I find it easy to believe Sharf’s warnings regarding “the dangers of projection and transference” because each and every day people can be seen to interpret their surroundings the way they want to. Sharf points this out quite clearly with historical evidence against any sort of meditative experience’s superiority or rigourous practice and with the example of when this emphasis began; that being during the Meiji Period, a time when there was a desire to uphold Buddhism against persecution claiming it was too institutional. When scholars use this period’s reform of Buddhism to mold it into something appealing to the masses, they are taking one piece of Buddhism’s history, backdating it and applying it to a past that was nothing like it.

Throughout the reading it occurred to me that perhaps this emphasis of meditative experience came from the very founder of the religion and his exemplary experience of enlightenment through meditation. Sharf is also willing to take on this criticism that the emphasis must have come from somewhere, even if it may have only been a few, out of the many that historically did NOT practice meditation. This thinking says that even if only a few did succeed at meditative experiences, surely the small numbers do not “detract from the pivotal role played by the ideal of meditative experience.” This type of thought is furthered by the idea that meditation has only become so routinized and not about inner experience because of this being the period of "mappo" (a degenerate stage that allows for almost no personal enlightenment but only a hope to gain merit for future liberation). Sharf replies to this simply by reiterating the notion that there NEVER was an emphasis on meditative “experience” and the experience aspect is merely a modern invention.

This is the key of the second part of Sharf’s argument. Sure meditation was done, but it was not done to bring inner experiences but instead was done in a ritualized, routinized fashion. Writings about meditation are not meant to be guides on how to meditate but are “first and foremost scholastic compendiums, compiled by monks of formidable learning who were attempting to systematize and schematize the confused and often conflicting descriptions of practices and stages.” (238) An interesting point that follows is that if these were first hand accounts written by monks who went through the experience, all “legitimacy” is taken from them. (239) As scholastic texts, their purpose was not to “[induce] ‘altered states of consciousness’” but in the recitation of them, were “vehicles for accumulating merit and cultivating wholesome attitudes.” (242) This changes the very definition of meditation and gives credit to Sharf’s idea that Western scholars have put too much emphasis on experiential mediation and have imposed this modern idea on the past without warrant.

To summarize what happened to Buddhism as it came into contact with Western powers, it seems Buddhism felt a need to modernize and appeal to more than just the asian culture and history; to do this, dropping ritualistic aspects in favor of a religious experience that is logically impossible to disprove is necessary. First hand knowledge is best and is irrefutable and so would appeal to a universal audience. However, this is also the origin of many heavy debates among "experiencers" who can all theoretically claim superior experience and practice pertaining to the experience. The way that the obvious problem of substantiating claims is solved by modern scholars is to say that there is indeed a relationship between meditative procedure (found in texts) and meditative experience. But again, these texts are meant not to "engender an experiential state but to enact it" publicly.

Sharf’s article brings so many issues into new perspective and while reading it I found myself questioning a lot of what I thought I knew. Things like the meaning or purpose of koans or the distinctions I’ve made between study versus practice schools or more importantly, has caused me to rethink of definition of practice altogether. Once again it has been called to my attention that it is highly dangerous to “assume” that what is said and what is meant/practiced are the same thing. This was obvious with the gap between Dogen’s lifestyle and what he taught and has been made painfully clear once again by Sharf’s attack on “meditative experience”.

Chigo Monogatari

Wed, 24 Mar 2004 18:29:39 GMT

CULTURE

1. If, as some say, these texts are just stories and not religious texts, how is the violence to be interpreted? Could this violence, aside from a "transience" point of view, not be seen as relfections of surrounding turmoil; relfections of a contemporary, warring nation?

1b. What can be learned from these stories about the surrouding culture? Do they illustrate the large extent to which religion and culture were largely inseparable in Japan? Is this the reason why it is difficult to discern the true purpose of the stories?

- you can learn that the times were pretty violent; about the presence of different religious groups; about important religious areas (Mt. Hiei)

1c. What can be learned about how surrounding culture viewed Buddhists?

- Buddhists are described somewhat as instigators of violence in the story. They cause wars by fighting amongst themselves and destroy entire monasteries but still this does not "purge their rancor."

STYLE
2. In regards to effectiveness and style, how well do these stories convey their religious messages? If they don't do this well, could this be attributed to the fact that they feel like simple folk-takes or is it this fact that indeed makes the Buddhist doctrine more accessible?

3. What are the various uses of metaphor in the stories and what purpose do they serve? Is the purpose to relate religious messages to common concepts and events?

- are the wars in the stories used metaphorically to show rivalry between Buddhist traditions or do they mirror actual historical events?; are the wars used becuase they were so prevalent in that current society that they would be relevant examples to common people reading?

Dogen #2

Sun, 14 Mar 2004 15:55:59 GMT

In reading Dogen’s writings a couple points of historical importance occurred to me. Continuing with the theme of how to read historical texts, in our case Buddhist texts, I practically realized a couple things that I had been taught to watch out for when reading texts but hadn’t until now been so glaringly important.

First, in specific relation to our current text, Sounds of Valley Streams, it became clear that even though the text appears to be prescribing formal rules and regulations for the practice of Dogen’s Zen Buddhism, the assertion must be made that what is written and what is actually done need not be identical. A gleaming example and catalyst for my thought on the subject lies within Cook’s third chapter, Enlightened Life. “Although Dogen spent his whole life training monks, essays…articulate a vision on Zen as a total way of life that should ideally illuminate and transform even the most humble and mundane of activities…” (p.38) This passage shows that while Dogen’s writings consistently and continuously speak of achieving an enlightenment that is free of reclusive monastic meditation but instead is meditative action IN the daily activities of the world, this sort of lifestyle was not how Dogen himself lived. By following Dogen’s prescription one might begin to doubt Dogen’s own ability and wonder how accurate his writings could be on a subject that is foreign to his own action and experience. This is why it is important to see that what is written and idealized is not always what is done and to hold any historical text as an absolute truth used to paint a correct picture of culture or religion is dangerous.

Secondly, in relation to comprehension of historical text, after much frustration, I discovered how important it is to read the texts contextually. Dogen’s texts were written not in a purely objective and sterilized way, but were most definitely influenced by his surrounding Japanese culture. This means that to get the full picture and understanding of his work one must also look to that which surrounded him. Two things can be concluded about his writings; one, the literal and poetic meanings are two very different things (and I’ll come back to this) and, two, imposing modern western definitions on carefully chosen words within Dogen’s text can drastically alter the implied and intended meaning of very Japanese concepts. A prime example of this is the word dragon, used quite often by Dogen. Understanding why Dogen uses the word dragon in certain writings requires looking to a culturally connotated meaning. In a Japanese context, the dragon is not only an indication of power but also represents, “rain and bodies of water, and is thus associated with life-giving powers.” (p. ) However, from a western perspective, where dragon imagery is less prevalent, to most the definition of dragon would include fearful and temperamental roars of fire that kill instead of give life. Regardless of the limitations of such a specific example, like the respective definitions being subjective, it serves to exemplify how dangerous it could be to impose one’s own bias onto a text, with meaning changes as drastic as life and death being possible.

On the subject of meaning follows the question of the difference between literal and poetic language. The literal meaning of things, to me, implies a direct correlation between a word and an idea whereas poetic language works to surpass this logical thinking and express the inexpressible, the inexpressibility a result of linguistic boundaries. A good example of these boundaries is the world of emotion. Feelings like love and sadness, anger, frustration and joy are that which many agree cannot be given concrete linguistic definitions that express the experience of such things fully and accurately. It is this inability to express an experience with literal language that breeds poetic language. Using frustration as an example, Dogen’s writings are a constant experience of frustration due to utilizing logical thinking in an illogical context. Poetically, this seems to be just what Dogen wants. Instead of applying literal meaning to a string of words, Dogen’s writings are carefully chosen so as to express the experience of frustration to readers. Words are put together not because their definitions and literal correlations with ideas are useful but to force people out of the literal and logical thinking that frustrates them. In this way, Dogen’s poetic language is a functionally induced expression of experiences that could not otherwise be expressed by literal language. Dogen moves part literal and purposely creates frustration out of our literal imposition of meaning on words so as to induce something beyond logic and language – enlightened understanding.

A Non-Dual Buddhism for All

Sat, 06 Mar 2004 23:12:16 GMT

The enlightenment of Dogen is a complete departure from all forms of meditation and enlightenment as we have seen thus far. No longer is there a life journey towards a set goal; a goal of enlightenment that cannot possibly be attained without years and lifetimes of observing precepts and meditation. It is with this departure, or re-interpretation of text as the translator mentions, that Dogen is able to provide a truly non-dual, unifying Buddhism that previous texts have been unable to.

Previous glimpses of the unifying nature of Buddhism in the Lotus Sutra for example, have carried troubling contradictions with them. The Lotus Sutra explicitly allowed only truly wise and advanced practitioners to participate. Although it was revealed that most could eventually progress towards that level, this still meant that enlightenment was a hard and far off prospect. Dogen’s Zen is a much more comforting take on the unity of Buddhism; truly all people who practiced it could be enlightened, in fact they are enlightened from the very first moment of authenticating themselves as Buddha’s and beginning to practice. Enlightenment as Dogen presents it, truly is something which all beings can attain – because enlightenment is seeing buddha-nature, a nature that is inside all things. Enlightenment can be seen also as self transformation and the resulting liberation from suffering. By self transforming one can also develop an “enlightened ability to see the sacredness and holiness of all things.” In believing that all things are Buddha, Dogen “erases any remaining distinction between sacred and profane.” (p.18)

What is interesting is the fact that Dogen applies the buddha-nature to all things. It seems as though, under Dogen, even rocks can “authenticate” their true nature. As described in the book, this is a “creative” (p. 20) interpretation of buddha-nature which sets Dogen apart from even his Chinese predecessors. It indicates that Dogen, one, values all things and considers them to be Buddhas, and two, sees no difference between the reality as the sum of experiences and the Buddha reality. In this view, there is no separate reality to be realized when seeing the buddha-nature in all things; it is more realizing that all things are already Buddha, here and now. “What you see is It.” (p.22) Dogen uses the expression genjo-koan for this idea. Above all other distinctions about enlightenment that Dogen made, the idea of genjo-koan is both the hardest to express and yet, I would imagine, the most comforting and convincing in Zen’s message of salvation and, in general, the non-dualism of Buddhism.

It is this humbling message of genjo-koan that is present in Dogen’s essays, including, “A Painting of a Rice Cake.” This non-dualism of buddha and all things is present in this essay which states that all things, in reality, are essentially empty and are interdependently related in that emptiness. This makes even the different forms of the same thing equally real, in so far as they are equally empty. Emptiness is buddha-nature because Buddha-nature is all things and there is nothing that is not empty. So, if real means empty then so too does real mean perfect because of the fact that buddha-nature is perfect and is also equivalent to empty. It is in this way that Dogen’s essay has a humbling impact in its message of equal emptiness and yet it is also very uplifting in that that emptiness, which equal buddha-nature, means all things are perfectly equal.

Dogen’s Zen also raises questions to traditional views that enlightenment is escape or “transcendence” from the sufferings of samsara. By raising these questions, once again Dogen establishes a non-dualism. If Dogen is right in saying that what surrounds us is in fact buddha, then at first glance it seems to follow that Dogen is saying that, like buddha and since all things are buddha, the sufferings of the world are actually perfect things. Without a transcendence that comes with enlightenment, suffering still exists. In fact, this is true and the idea is not to get rid of suffering but embrace it so as it can be understood and accepted; when something is accepted it no longer poses a problem and technically is no longer a cause for suffering. So Dogen sets up an enlightenment that does not change the world or create a duality of worlds, samsara and a perfect version of the world, but instead enlightenment is an inner transformation of perception of the outer world.

Milarepa Part Two

Sat, 28 Feb 2004 18:07:17 GMT

Upon reflection as to why the book was written and in special regard to its style of writing, it becomes clear that the Life of Milarepa was and is intended for a lay audience. The purpose of the story is stated out rightly near the very beginning, that being “for the sake of guiding other sentient beings on the way to liberation.” (p.12)

The story of Milarepa is not a text which can bring enlightenment just by reading it pages or hearing its message. In speaking to a lay audience or early practitioners, the book serves as a message of hope and reassurance of future liberation for all people. This hope is distributed to the reader by way of Milarepa. It is through being connected to and inspired by Milarepa’s life story that the lay audience may delve deeper into the religion themselves. The gradual process that transforms Milarepa from a sinner to a saint is paralleled with the writing style and structure; as Milarepa moves deeper into the Path so too, the book becomes deeper in Buddhist doctrine.

The structure of the book goes through drastic changes, from lengthy description to a style that utilizes lists information, much like the work of I-Ching. The first half of the book is very story like and descriptive, riddled with emotion to draw readers into the character of Milarepa. As Milarepa progresses towards liberation, the second half of the book becomes a musical of songs that seer doctrine into the hearts of readers. Eventually, when Milarepa is even closer to enlightenment, all information about him changes from storytelling and songs to quick but extensive listing of people and places affected by Milarepa’s presence. A reason for this may be that the lists are tools of continuing the hopeful message of enlightenment for all. The long lists of names and places give tangible results to Milarepa’s life saving work and exhibit how great lamas are able to help so many people.

So as to make clear his message, Milarepa sings many songs to his followers. Folk songs that could easily be understood by the laity who listened and which clarified doctrine and introductory issues of faith. While the book demonstrates many advances practices the presence of these practices act more as historical records of what Buddhism was like rather than actual instruction on how to be a Buddhist. Instruction on practicing Buddhism seems to be much more elementary and pointed at lower lever practitioners. In particular, the song found on page 192 works to spell out the correct way of practicing Buddhism, clarifying concepts which seem similar but are in reality quite different. In this song, the perfect version of a concept in the first line of a stanza is contrasted with a poor substitution, full of misunderstanding in the second. The general conflict comes from the fact that the second line is learning based on the external, material world of impermanence and illusion. Any “wisdom” drawn from this knowledge will not be the real truth. However, the first and sought after line is perfect because its knowledge stems from an inner wisdom. While outwardly the two contrasted ideas appear the same, they are innately different because of their bases. From this musical dissemination of doctrine it can be seen that the text itself does not bring enlightenment, like the Lotus Sutra, but is meant more for a lay audience that needs instruction, guidance, inspiration and hope.

From the mass of doctrinal information given out within the text comes a general feeling of the non-duality of Buddhism. While it is taught that Buddhism is a unifying and universal religion which spreads the possibility of enlightenment for all beings, Buddhism is at the same time very personal and individualistic. There are a few circumstances within The Life of Milarepa that exhibit this non-duality of universal and personal, community and individual.

The path a bodhisattva follows is one motivated by a compassion for all samsaric beings; a desire to aid them on their own paths to enlightenment. While there are many Buddhist methodologies, within Milarepa’s school there is a tradition of extensive solitary meditation. Such is the nature of the joining of the individual and the universe; the bodhisattva works on his own for the sake of all. Coupled with this solitary meditation is the tradition of the teacher-student relationship. Although it is necessary to have a teacher who has mastered many practices and works to pass on his knowledge to the student, ultimately the student cannot gain any wisdom solely from hearing teachings, the student must himself experience the wisdom. Much like the teacher working to help not only his student but all people through that student, the deities in Buddhism have the ability to be both a universal presence to all people and at the same time, a physical presence to any one person who calls on them. Milarepa demonstrates this on his journey to death as he appears in person with each follower involved in the ceremonies, even though these followers were in distinct and separate physical places altogether.

What joins the person and the universe, the teacher and the student, the deity and the worshipper is compassion. Just as it was Milarepa’s compassion for all people that motivated him to reach enlightenment, it is compassion that motivates the recording of Milarepa’s life into a book that can provide hope and elementary doctrine for future Buddhists.

Sun, 01 Feb 2004 23:30:44 GMT

Present in the Life of Milarepa are some Buddhist ideas that are quite similar to those already seen in the Lotus Sutra. Foremost among these is the doctrine of expedient means. Milarepa’s master and teacher, Marpa, is a very wise man whose actions and methods of teaching are quite questionable at times. Milarepa went to Marpa in search of the great teachings he could provide that lead to enlightenment with no need for rebirth. All throughout the second chapter in the second part of the text, Milarepa is told to perform certain laborious tasks, like building and taking down towers, with the promise of initiation to Marpa’s teachings upon completion. Much to Milarepa’s dismay, however, each time a task is completed he receives no teaching, only further arduous tasks to complete. It seems here that Marpa lies to Milarepa and at times, to the reader, it becomes questionable as to whether Marpa is even present within himself as he makes decisions, whether it is due to all the beer consumed throughout the story (a sign that the religion of the story is definately the more open branch of Buddhism,Tantric Buddhism) or for some other unknown reason. Many times, Marpa responds to Milarepa’s pleas to finally be taught with complete ignorance of previous tasks performed. At one point, upon hearing that Milarepa has left, Marpa becomes “wet with tears” and cries out for his “predestined son” to be brought back; as if he had no responsibility in making him leave or didn’t understand why he would leave.

On closer inspection however, Marpa is more acting out of skillful means than ignorance. He knows exactly what he is doing. The reader though is kept out of the loop leading them on the same path as Milarepa, in the dark as to the true motives of Marpa. As a literary work, I think it was very intelligent to make Milarepa the narrator of his own story. Putting him in the first person makes him a real and tangible character, giving readers a true connection with his sufferings. Identifying with his character is a sure way to keep people interested and to put the story straight in the hearts and memories of readers.

Although it appears at first like lying and cruelty, the end of the chapter reveals that all hard work was done by Milarepa to cleanse him of his sins; to make him pure and bring him to readiness for Marpa’s teachings. This is a parallel to the story in the Lotus Sutra about the burning house. The father in the story lies to his children to make them exit the burning house, knowing that lying is the only way to make them do so. With the house being samsara and leaving the house being equivalent to reaching enlightenment, it is seen how Marpa utilizes the same type knowledge of skillful means to save Milarepa. This knowledge goes beyond any knowledge that is based in the world of duality; it is free from being right or wrong, good or bad. Here, what Marpa says and does to Milarepa is all done to get Milarepa on his way to enlightenment. As mentioned by Prof. Garrett, language in the context of expedient means is a functional tool for leading people to Awakening.

Beyond expedient means, the toils of Milarepa prove to Marpa that he is willing and determined enough; that he has the perseverance needed to follow the teachings. The idea of perseverance is a prescription to readers for how they should live themselves. This perseverance also speaks of the relationship between teacher and student. Marpa is moved to tears at the faithful obedience Milarepa exhibits. This too is shown in the Lotus Sutra, which stressed faith in the Buddha above all else because the Buddha, the ultimate teacher, is the one who can inspire and save all people. Unless a student is willing to give up “body, mind and speech” to a teacher, the teacher makes no effort to help them.

Enclosed within the teacher-student relationship, there seems to be a great contradiction, the same contradiction evident in the Lotus Sutra. Material goods are taught to be ignored; they are empty and should not be a source of attachment since they are impermanent things. Despite this teaching, within the Life of Milarepa, there are a few lines which speak to the contrary. On page 58, it says, “Religion is forbidden to the poor,” and yet immediately after it says, “Without religion, a man is only an accumulation of sins and I would be better off to kill myself.” With the purpose of the story being “for the sake of guiding other sentient beings on the way to liberation,” and for it to be told out of “compassion for ALL sentient beings,” it seems odd that the poor may not be included. (p.12) Especially when the story is about Milarepa’s own path to enlightenment, it is odd that poor people are not fit for enlightenment when Milarepa describes his own great poverty.

For a religion to stress being beyond the material world, the text also speaks a contradiction when it comes to the fact that “without gifts, [a] lama will not teach…” (p.58) Of course, the contradictions lie on the surface level and further inspection is required. The asking of material gifts on the part of the teacher is not a sign of their own personal attachment to material objects but of the attachment of the students. To give great and precious gifts is a symbol of dedication to the religion and to the teacher when it comes from a student who still places great value on them.

Once again there is a commonality with Milarepa and the Lotus Sutra; the Lotus Sutra using lots of imagery of great jewels and luxurious towers as well. The Lotus Sutra is all about seeing Buddhism as one great vehicle, with differences in practice pertaining to the successive nature of the path and the fact that things are only taught when one is ready. For the lay audience reading the texts and for beginning students, like Milarepa at first, lavish materials are used as symbols because to them they hold value. There is no contradiction in this because, to look at Buddhist teachings as progressive, then the advanced and wise teachers, who have already mastered the basic teaching of control over desire, are able to see the beauty of things as they are but not cling to them or mistake them for absolute things that aren’t empty of inherent existence. This distinction is important to make because many Buddhist texts do indeed use imagery of luxurious, precious items, but not without purpose. In the Life of Milarepa, there is the lesson that it is not the material worth of the objects desired by the teachers, but the letting go of the meanings attached to them by the student. As Marpa said, “You are…worthy to be called faithful…I have no need of this goat. I only wanted to stress the importance of the teaching...” (p.69)

Mon, 19 Jan 2004 15:03:21 GMT

The Lotus Sutra is undoubtedly a most important text for all Buddhists seeking enlightenment. The fact that it speaks to all people, giving all human beings hope, tells of how unifying the text can be. Particularly being translated and read during a time of great expansion and diversification in Buddhism, the Lotus Sutra works to establish a oneness, a universality among humanity. It is through the notion of great faith in what the Buddha preaches that a universal hope is set up. It is said that enlightenment and understanding can come “through faith alone.”

The unifying quality of faith is that it is a characteristic which anyone can have. To have faith is not a matter of being wealthy, or poor for that matter. There is no discrimination of any sort when it comes to faith. This aspect is so important in establishing Buddhism as a universal religion; especially within the contemporary culture of caste systems and extremes of wealth and poverty that surrounded the beginnings of the religion.

There seems to be some contradictions however within the Lotus Sutra regarding faith. While faith is for everyone, numerous times, the Buddha preaches that the message of the Lotus Sutra is not for everyone; it is only for those skilled enough and ready to hear it. The Buddha instructs future expounders of the text to share it only with those who are worthy and capable. “I expressly say to you, /do not preach this sutra/to persons who are without wisdom.” This quote is very elitist considering it is not all people who have traveled the hard road to wisdom and it is contradictory to other parts of the text in two ways.

When talking about who can read or listen to the sutra, it is said that only those with “profound wisdom” may do so. No too far after, it is also said that people with faith “can comply with this sutra, not because of any wisdom of their own.” This seems to be a contradiction – does the Buddha want profoundly wise people or people with great faith alone to listen? Continuing with the idea that faith alone can bring understanding, another contradiction is found by having a unifying, hopeful message, that all people can be saved by believing in the Buddha, be in the same text as the Buddha saying that the sutra should not be preached to those without wisdom.

The first contradiction appears to be a case of misunderstanding the meaning of the Buddha’s language. Here, wisdom is the knowledge of knowing nothing; of not being arrogant and realizing that it is only the Buddha who can save people and who holds all the truth. In this sense, wisdom is the same as faith in the Buddha. The second problem actually furthers the unifying nature of the sutra. The Buddha knows that the message of the Lotus Sutra will do nothing else but confuse those who are not ready for it. To keep it from being taught to people without great wisdom is not contradictory to the message of faith. The faith message simply means that all people CAN reach enlightenment, but not all people are ready yet.

Here is where the idea of expedient means is relevant. While keeping the Lotus Sutra for a select group of people seems contradictory, the Buddha is really only acting on his great skill for knowing how more or less wise people are. Just as there is no point in giving a novel to a child who cannot yet read, there is no point in presenting people with the Lotus Sutra if they cannot yet understand it. The Buddha’s skill in means functions like an eyelid upon waking, covering the eye tightly at first and gradually allowing the eye to adjust to the brilliant light surrounding it. To open the eye quickly sends shock and pain to the eye making it less appealing to open it again, but a gradual opening process allows it to eventually see everything clearly and with joy.

When it can be understood that faith in the Buddha means having faith that one day your eyes will be opened, there are no contradictions in the Lotus Sutra. The Lotus Sutra unifies all levels of people, letting all people know that one day they can reach enlightenment through the text and the words of the Buddha. Though there seems to be many paths to take, it is only because the eyes are not fully open that people don’t see all the paths converging at the end and leading into one common destination – enlightenment. It is because of this blindness that people must have faith.

Thu, 15 Jan 2004 16:20:35 GMT

In the time of I-Ching, there were many longwindedly named Chinese Buddhist monks who set out on long, arduous travels to India, the birthplace of Buddhism, in search of a greater understanding and to translate Buddhist text and bring it back to China. These travels went along the Silk Trade Route which went both to the north and to the south of the desert area by the T’ien-shan Mountains, passing from China, through Tibet and over to India. Many times, throughout the course of a monk’s journey, they would have to deal with very adverse conditions. Encountering robbers or nomadic people in Tibet seemed to be a common occurrence and to anyone without a great will and desire to practice and learn Buddhism these types of encounters would very easily make one wish to turn around. It is very likely that events like robberies were recorded precisely to illustrate the dedication of a given monk and to preserve that dedication for future Buddhists.

The writing style is very frank, so this preservation is done just by listing what happened and not by making a play to play, detailed commentary of each specific robbery. All that is said is that a monk was robbed and captured and later escaped or did not escape. While peculiar to the way one might write about a terrifying occurrence today, I-Ching’s historical account of the monks and what happened to them seems fitting for his purposes and to the religion he wrote about. The writing is more of a militaristic record of soldiers’ whereabouts and conditions, not a journalistic, wordy biography. Perhaps, flowing with Buddhist tradition, the clear and concise format is an exercise in being mindful of the emptiness of the material world, an exercise in being careful not to get wrapped up and lost in the sensory details and yet to still see the relevance of encounters within that same sensory world.

This hypothesis of course is acceptable in describing and analyzing the first portion of the reading but it seems the second half is much different and further explanation is needed. In fact, the second half is painstakingly detailed about the living arrangements in some famous monasteries, like Nalanda. To account for this and still say that I-Ching wrote rather dry but concise accounts, the motivation of which being based on Buddhist notions of emptiness, it is possible to claim that the latter half was full of lengthy description because of the subject matter.

To write about the colour of leaves and the feel of the sand in the desert areas is irrelevant to a Buddhist religious text. However, to tediously describe wall paint colours and shapes and layouts and the processes of rule making in a sangha is to describe that which was religiously important. If the accounts were meant to be records of Buddhism in China and India at the time of I-Ching and were to be passed forward to future generations of Buddhists, then to ensure a standard of quality and to uphold the current Buddhist tradition but still write in a way that abides by Buddhist doctrine, it is absolutely necessary to withhold inconsequential details of a particular travel. It is necessary to include only the relevant landscape description so as to get the message of how hard the trips were and how much dedication was needed, but conversely, to include as much detail as possible about Buddhist practices and modes of living.

Beyond the historical accounts of landscape and traditions, another area of historical importance is relevant and written about by I-Ching – international relations on a political level. The records of relations between China, India and Tibet, Indian kings inviting Chinese monks to stay in India, high royalty funding trips to foreign lands for herbs and aiding the monks on their journeys speak of the influence Buddhism had in the Eastern world at the time. It seems as though Buddhist monks were highly respected in India and were given much aid and opportunity to spread the Buddhist message even further.

Again, in keeping with a bare minimum writing style, information about who invited monks over and what monks did on their journey and upon arrival is kept very straight forward.
e.g.-
This king invited this monk to India.
That monk went.
He passed through this monastery and stayed for 2 years.
He was deeply skilled in translation.
He went to another monastery.
He died at thirty odd years.
-End of story.
However sparse the account is in word count though, politically it describes a lot. It describes which country is welcoming to Buddhism, where large Buddhist centers were and what happened within those centers (at the time, it seems there was a lot of translation work of sutras and sastras).

What I find interesting is that compared to just reading the text, by analyzing the writing style itself on top of reading all the facts, an even greater understanding of Buddhism as a whole can be reached; a more conceptual understanding. Not only did I-Ching succeed in passing historical fact about Buddhism to the future but by looking into his writing style and the motivations behind it, he passed on Buddhist teaching. Of course, that could have been his plan all along and the frank records were not factual accounts at all but just tools to force the reader to dig deeper.