More on faith

Shinjin is the experience of awakening to the salvific grace of Amida. It arises the very instant - what Shinran referred to as a "thought moment" - we recognize our inherent buddha nature and realize we are saved by the power of Amida's primal vow. Because shinjin is often translated as "faith" we miss this essential aspect of Jodo Shinshu teachings. As Takamaro Shigaraki writes in The Problem of the True and the False: "The nembutsu is the process and shinjin is the goal."

To describe shinjin as faith completely undermines the very premise of shinjin; shinjin is the liberation we seek, the jumping off point to nirvana. Shinjin, itself, is the gift of recognition of our buddha nature and our ultimate deliverance from the seemingly endless cycle of life and death through Amida Buddha.

When I describe shinjin as the experience of awakening, I mean that shinjin is not a static moment, an "aha!" moment. It is, instead, a lifetime experience of growth and learning. While Shigaraki calls it the goal, I do not believe he means that it stops there. Once we have attained shinjin, we continue to experience it on successively more profound levels. Shinjin is, in a sense, an ongoing penultimate experience that does not reach its final fruition until that moment when we are released from this life and freed from the wheel of samsara.

Awakening to shinjin, experiencing shinjin, opens us to the desire to learn and understand more. It is our limited, deluded self that prevents us from experiencing total enlightenment in this life time but shinjin drives us on to learn more, to open our hearts ever more to Amida's grace. Our buddha nature seeks reunion with Amida and through shinjin it pushes harder and farther until we are free.

On use of the word "faith"

"Faith" is a tricky word in Jodo Shinshu usage.

While reading for my Honen study group I came across this passage, a quote from T'an Luan's Commentary on the Treatise on Birth in the Pure Land, in "Teachings of Honen":

The Easy Practice refers to birth in the Pure Land simply through faith in the Essential Vow of Buddha Amitabha. One can be born in the Pure Land and will immediately become characterized as being in the state of the certain attainment of birth by reliance on the power of His vow. The certain attainment of birth is attached to the practice of non-retrogression (126).

Over and over again, we struggle with the word because faith carries a radically different meaning in Buddhism than it does in Christianity. For Buddhists of any denomination or school, faith implies a dualistic relationship between the believer and the being or entity in whom the believer has placed her faith. By necessity, the relationship is one of two separate entities between whom there is no equality, no common link.

But in Buddhism, this relationship is very different because of the belief that all sentient beings inherently have Buddha nature. In other words, we all have within ourselves the ability to realize our full potential as buddhas, to eventually realize our true Buddha Nature in lieu of our delusional sense of self. It is because of the this recognition of our potential that faith is such a poor word, and carries with it a tremendous risk for misrepresenting the Dharma.

Jodo Shinshu teachers and thinkers have struggled with this for years. The word faith, although initially introduced with the best of intentions in order to help people understand a complicated premise, is deceptively dangerous and should be avoided at all costs. The problem, of course, remains in deciding which word with which to replace it.

The Rev. Kenryu Tsuji writes:

Why is it that a man who has Faith does not become enlightened in this life? The answer lies in the nature of man. He is still in his earthly body, subject to physical and mental limitations. So long as he is a relative and imperfect being, he can never become an absolute Buddha, perfect in every respect. It is, therefore, that the assurance of Buddhahood is given in this life and the actual attainment of Buddhahood is realized in the Pure Land. In the Creed we read, "We rely upon Amida Buddha with our whole heart for the Enlightenment in the life to come".

Faith will not save us so long as it enforces a separation between our selves and Amida. We must move beyond faith to awakening to realize our Buddha Nature; with that awakening, we open ourselves to enlightenment by recognizing our limitations as human beings. Faith is counterproductive and limiting; recognition of our flawed humanity is the path to our salvation through Amida.

Changing Truth

Truth is relative, a fact borne out by our individual perceptions of what we experience around us when compared against the same truths as experienced by others.

Tonight, in our Honen study group, conducted as usual in the social hall of the temple, we discussed the role of the Seven Patriarchs of the Jodo Shinshu tradition (Just for reference's sake, the seven patriarchs are Nagarjuna, Vasubandhu, Tan Luan, Tao Cho, Shan Tao, Genshin, and Honen). Led by Jerry B., as usual, it was a good discussion but a particular point really stood out for me.

We began to talk about the role of dharma transmission - an important concept for Zen Buddhists, but less so for Jodo Shinshu Buddhists - and the role of karma in the teachings of the patriarchs. Karma, of course, is the collection of causes, circumstances, and conditions that shape and give form to how we live our lives and the decisions and actions we undertake. The teachings of the patriarchs, each influenced by those who came before him, are the results of karma, as well.

In other words, were the causes and conditions not right to bring about the circumstances necessary for Nagarjuna, or Shantao, or Shinran to come to their conclusions, we might be living very different lives today. Our understanding of the Dharma, our religious lives, would be very different. That's what I mean when I say that truth is relative.

For many people, the idea that truth is not a static thing is frightening. Truth, they will tell you, is true precisely because it never changes. Truth is a fixed point from which all else radiates, and anything that deviates from that is false. However, in our deluded viewpoints of the world around us, we are unable to see truth and are, therefore, unable to state what is profoundly true and what is not.

Shinran said "When I ponder on the compassionate Vow of Amida, established through five kalpas of profound thought, it was for myself, Shinran, alone. Because I am a being burdened so heavily with karma, I feel even more deeply grateful to the Primal Vow which is made to decisively save me."

For Shinran, for the patriarchs, for you, for me, our perceived truth is a different truth and because it merely perception, it is not true at all. When Shinran said the Vow of Amida was for him alone, he meant Amida cut through the delusion with which Shinran surrounded himself to show him that which is Truth. The Dharma is the only truth; everything else we understand to be true in our lives is false. Shinran understood this, and he understood that Amida reached out to him under circumstances which were peculiar to him, to circumstances which were of his own making.

"...it was for myself, Shinran, alone."

Our attainment of shinjin is a unique experience, and while we come to the same truth, our attainment is a truly individual experience. Our particular circumstances shape and filter our experience of shinjin, meaning, once again, that truth is relative. But the truth to which that experience leads us is the same truth for all beings.

True gratitude

Gratitude, even in a Jodo Shinshu context, is a tricky thing. As Jodo Shinshu Buddhists, we should feel gratitude as easily as we breathe but of course, it's not that easy.

It's tempting to regard gratitude for a thing given as the same as the gratitude we feel for Amida's all-embracing compassion. If a friend helps you with your car, or helps you land a job, you do feel grateful. To take that a step further, you probably feel grateful for the good friends in your life, and the fact that you are so well taken care of.

Gratitude in that context is important, and we should never hold back from thanking those who help us. Mom and Dad were right: 'please' and 'thank you' are just as important now as they were when we were kids.

But our gratitude toward Amida is an entirely different thing. It isn't a response we feel when we're particularly happy about how well things have been going, or when we pass through some particularly dangerous moment intact. The gratitude we are called upon to demonstrate is far more profound than that. It is a gratitude that extends beyond that moment of satisfaction.

In Tannisho, Yuienbo credits Shinran with saying "When I consider deeply the Vow of Amida, which arose from five kalpas of profound thought, I realize that it was entirely for the sake of myself alone! Then how I am filled with gratitude for the Primal Vow, in which Amida resolved to save me, though I am burdened with such heavy karma."

Shinran, despite whatever misgivings he had about himself, despite what anger he might have been feeling, or disappointment, or - indeed - gratitude toward another person for a kind favor, expressed a far more profound sense of gratitude for the one thing that exists and will continue to exist long after the anger and nice favors have been forgotten.

The gratitude Shinran spoke of transcends mere quotidian gratitude. It's gratitude of another level altogether, a gratitude realized only when we understand just how complete and enveloping Amida's compassion truly is. When I think about just how greedy or selfish I am, when I consider just how often I have hurt or harmed others by my own self-absorption, and then consider the fact that Amida has extended her compassion even to me, I feel and understand a true depth of gratitude that surpasses anything else.

In his essay "The Problem of the True and the False" Takamaro Shigaraki wrote:

To say that shinjin is the experience of awakening means, in a more concrete sense, that we awaken to the compassion of the Tathagata. Not only that, we also awaken to the depths and weight of our own karmic evil, which is illumined by that compassion.

To understand that fully is to realize true gratitude.

On "Meeting with Impermanence"

I have just begun reading "Heard by Me: Essays on My Buddhist Teacher" by Shuichi Maida. I've been reading a lot of Maida over the past couple of weeks.

One passage from his essay "Meeting with Impermanence" struck me:

What kind of truth did Sakyamuni discover in this world? He discovered one truth, and he called it 'impermanence'. Impermanence is something you cannot grasp. If you can grasp a thing, it is no longer impermanent. The truth of impermanence is that all existing things are being transformed moment after moment-- that things and our minds are changing moment after moment and do not stay the same for even a second. Thus if there is anything that is fixed, there cannot be any truth of impermanence. This truth can only be described as a flash (28).

Compare Maida's statement with this excerpt from the book "Who's Afraid of Schrödinger's Cat?":

In the quantum universe - and this is the whole universe - every 'part' is subtly linked to every other, and the very identity - the being, qualities, and characteristics - of constituents depends upon their relation to others. It is impossible, except as an approximation, to apply the part of the scientific method that calls for isolating an entity from its environment when one is investigating quantum entities or systems. The part comes to be fully only in the context of the larger whole (298).

"Impermanence is something you cannot grasp," wrote Maida. "If you can grasp a thing, it is no longer impermanent." Quantum physics states that we alter an object merely by observing it. By observing it, we become one with it. By doing so, we have fundamentally changed it and, by extension, it has changed us. "The part comes to be fully only in the context of the larger whole."

Impermanence then does not merely imply that things end, although this is typically - and not unreasonably - the general supposition when Buddhists talk about impermanence. "I will die," we may think. "This tree will grow. That star will burn out." Impermanence, too, refers to a state of being; if our very components are constantly in flux, we too are constantly in flux. Even the "I" in question here changes from moment to moment as our perceptions of ourselves changes depending upon our moods. For example, the confident I is a very different person from the anxious I; the self-perception and other thoughts that accompany that state necessarily change, then, as well.

Maida writes "Impermanence does not allow us to have any fixed opinion, thought, viewpoint, or position" (32). I am, then, very much a different person than the individual who started writing this essay. If that is the case, our concept of self is truly empty as reflected in the Heart Sutra:

Shariputra, form does not differ from emptiness; emptiness does not differ from form. Form itself is emptiness; emptiness itself is form. So too are feeling, cognition, formation, and consciousness.

(Yes, I am certainly aware of the problems with quoting the Prajna Paramita Sutra here in a Shin blog, but for a response to that, see this essay by the Rev. Fred Ulrich).

I believe we can - and do - find the same truth of impermanence in both Buddhist scripture and science.

Domino effect

We haven't any control over the world around us. Causes and conditions bring us to various points over which we have no say, nor any means to change. But we do have control over one aspect of all this: ourselves, or how we choose to respond to these events.

I lost it on the phone yesterday with a customer service rep from the car share service I use. I found an additional $50 charge on my debit card and when I called the service, I was told I was being charged a late fee for returning the car I had rented a few days earlier an hour late. In short, I was sure I had rented the car for three hours, and I used the full three hours returning the vehicle right on time. No, I was told: I had only rented it for two hours.

The service rep refunded the fifty dollars, but with the insinuation - at least to my mind - that I had made the error and should be more careful. I should have been happy enough with the refund, but I was annoyed about a $23 insufficient fund charge my credit union charged me as a result of the late fee from the car share service, and annoyed too over the continued implication I was in error. I lost it.

"I rented the car for a full three-hour block," I insisted. When she insisted otherwise, I admonished her not to argue with a customer.

I was in a lousy mood after all that; no doubt, it didn't do much for her frame of mind, either. The point, of course, is that - whether it was my fault or not - I could have handled the entire situation differently. I didn't need to lose my temper, but my ego was under attack ("I didn't make the mistake!") and I needlessly took it out on the woman at the other end of the line.

On another note, I have been dealing with depression for the past few years. When you're depressed, it's difficult to make reasonable judgments about what you need to do. After the first really difficult bout, and an observation stay at a local hospital, I seemed to be feeling better. I was hit again several months ago. The impact on my life - though less dramatic - was profound. I ended up cutting back my class schedule, and eventually dropping out of school. However, I also began therapy.

When the therapist asked what I wanted to get out of the experience, I told him I wanted to learn to identify the triggers that set off the depression. To continue reacting - poorly - to circumstances I can't control is not only pointless but the consequences, I've learned, could also be fatal. The therapy is helping me to recognize some of those triggers. But Buddhism also teaches us to do the same, and I find myself drawing heavily on my experience as a Buddhist.

"Be a lamp unto yourself," Sakyamuni said on his deathbed.

Shan-tao wrote: "Know yourself to be a foolish being of karmic evil caught in birth-and-death, ever sinking and and ever wandering in transmigration from innumerable kalpas in the past, with never a condition that would lead to emancipation."

While we can't change the conditions that bring us to certain points, we can change how we respond, and that has the power to foster new, better karmic conditions. As Buddhists, we are taught to look within ourselves. Indeed, we are the only things we truly have the ability to change.

I have no idea whether the woman at the car share service was able to let go of the feelings she had after our conversation. Karma brings with it a perverse sense of generosity, entangling everyone in its tendrils and leaving marks on all of us. Had I been more aware of my own feelings - of my ego - when I was speaking with her, I probably would have been more flexible and less likely to react to perceived criticism. The only way to break the karmic bonds is to know ourselves and to make the changes we need to make, ourselves.