Category: Dharma

Full Moon, Uposatha, June 4, 2012            Series Index

For an updated version of this post, see my essay “What Did the Buddha Think of Women?”

Gender Equality in American Folk Buddhism (1).

Two characteristics are often regarded as most unique in Western Folk Buddhism: (1) gender equality and (2) social engagement. This week I look at the first of these.

Gender equality is relatively well established in Western Folk Buddhism. And in fact exemplary women teachers abound in America and it is very common for male American students of Buddhism to accept the authority of a qualified female teacher without a second thought, as I did myself for many years. This stands in contrast to the situation in much of Asia where women are often marginalized in Buddhism and relatively few gain reputations as teachers, or have over much of the history of Buddhism. In many countries of Asia there are no fully ordained nuns, or they are just coming into existence with some resistance. As before I would like to examine this week and next the origin of gender equality in American Folk Buddhism then consider whether it is friendly, neutral or inimical toward Essential Buddhism.

Origins of Gender Equality in Western Folk Buddhism. In this series I have pointed out a number of attributes of American Folk Buddhism whose origin is Western more than Eastern, but which nonetheless are attributed to Buddhism and whose actual compatibility with Buddhism varies widely. I think it is clear that gender equality in Western Buddhism has been conditioned largely by the progress in improving women’s rights in the West, especially in the last 40 years or so. We still have a long way to go in this process and certainly in America much of the population is resistant to many aspects of gender equality, but American Buddhists on the other hand stand out from most of American culture in that they tend to belong by and large to that very progressive and very educated subculture that has generally been most supportive of gender equality.

Furthermore I would guess that most American Buddhists are clearly aware in this case of the largely Western origin of gender equality in American Folk Buddhism, since Asian Buddhism is generally viewed as unsupportive. First the Asian teachers who have been very influential in America and the West (the Daila Lama, Thich Nhat Hanh, Suzuki Roshi, Chogyam Trungpa, Shen Yen and so on), while each exemplary in himself, count virtually no women among their numbers. Second, relatively few women have gone down in Asian history as teachers, yogis and thinkers; the great Indian scholar-monks, for instance, were all exactly that, monks, and the lineages tracked in East Asia list one man after another. Third many countries in Asia fail to support full ordination into the monastic Sangha for women, while monk sanghas thrive. And finally the Vinaya itself, the monastic code originating with the Buddha, is sometimes regarded as sexist. In fact the role of women in much of Buddhist Asia would be almost intolerable here, and an attempt to impose it here would be a deal-breaker for many potential American Buddhists.

The Situation in the Sangha. Perhaps the most clearcut way to look at the role of women in Buddhism cross-culturally in both Essential and Folk Buddhism, is through the status of women in the Sangha of women, the fully ordained nuns. Not only do we have very early sources on this matter, including words of the Buddha himself, but we can see how the bhikkhuni/bhikshuni Sangha has been upheld historically, in modern Buddhism and in Western Buddhism. Naturally I am particularly interested in this perspective as a monk and also somewhat qualified to speak to this issue. The current situation regarding of nuns’ ordination also presents a particular instructive view of a very real tension between Western and Eastern Buddhisms.

Just to recap very briefly some history, the Buddha set up a twofold Sangha, an order of full ordained monks (bhikshus or bhikkhus) and several years later an order of fully ordained nuns (bhikshunis or bhikkhunis), with quite a lot of independence such that new monks were ordained by the proper quorum of existing monks and new nuns ordained by the proper quorum of existing nuns (with a qualification in the case of nuns which we will see below).

The Buddha started in the early days of the Bhikkhu Sangha to establish rules to regulate the lives of the monks, which came to be compiled into the Patimokkha (Pali), and then began to establish specific rules for nuns, which came to be the Bhikkhuni Patimokkha. Most of the rules of the Bhikkhu and Bhikkhuni Patimokkhas are shared in common, but many rules are only found in the Bhikkhu Patimokkha or in the Bhikkhuni Patimokkha. The Vinaya is a large text (about the size of War and Peace) that developed around the Patimokkhas as a commentary and supplement. It includes, for instance, details about the origins of rules, stories about the early Sangha and in fact most of what we know about the life of the Buddha and additional rules apparently decreed too late to be included in the Patimokkhas, which had become fixed for bi-monthly recitation.

As Buddhism spread throughout Asia the Bhikkhu Sangha generally established itself first in a new territory, followed by the Bhikkhuni Sangha. For instance, Buddhism seems to have established itself in China first by monks who traveled along the Silk Road with caravans. The Bhikkhuni Sangha was established more deliberately, in 433 AD after a shipload of nuns was brought from Sri Lanka to provide the necessary quorum for ordaining indigenous nuns. That lineage of nuns still exists today. An order of nuns was however apparently never established in Tibet. Meanwhile the monastic orders in Southern Asia, in the Theravada countries, have had a shaky history. The bhikkhu order actually disappeared completely in Sri Lanka at one point and had to be rebooted from Burma. And sometime in the last one thousand years ago all of the bhikkhuni orders died out entirely without a reboot. In most, perhaps all, of the countries that do not or no longer have a bhikkhuni order a subsitute ordination for nuns has been instituted, generally involving eight or ten precepts, in support of the monastic lifestyle, but without the symbolic recognition of being “Sangha,” and with varying degrees of support and respect accruing to the nuns.

Beginning in the Twentieth Century a slow process has begun of introducing or reintroducing full ordination for women where it was not available. This has been largely driven by Western demand. Western Monastic Buddhism has been much more closely tied to Asia than Western Buddhism at large, where most monastics like myself have one foot in an Asian tradition and the other in the American. As a result, even in America opportunities have been available to me as a man to pursue my aspirations that would have been much harder to come by for a woman of similar aspiration. This is the locus of tension between Western and Eastern Buddhism.

Full ordination has naturally always been available in the West through the numerous Chinese or Vietnamese bhikshunis, for instance. However not for Westerners who are drawn doctrinally to the Tibetan or Theravada tradition, even though the monastic code is almost identical in all Buddhist traditions. Most commonly the approach to this impasse has been to mix traditions. There are now, for instance, Sri Lankan bhikkhunis who trace their lineage through those courageous Sri Lankan nuns who traveled by ship to China sixteen centuries ago, through a long line of Chinese Mahayana nuns and then very recently back to Sri Lanka again where their numbers are growing. Nonetheless such modern ordinations meet with some controversy in Asia. For many Theravadins they have been tainted by the Mahayana, for others the whole concept of full ordination of women is a modern newfangled Western innovation.

This is a short episode this week because I’ve been busier than a monk should be. Next week I will turn to what the Buddha and the Vinaya actually tell us with respect to gender equality as the earliest representatives of Essential Buddhism, and then compare this to the American Folk Buddhist view.

First Quarter Moon, Uposatha, May 28, 2012            Series Index

Individualism in American Folk Buddhism.

America is traditionally a land that values, or at least thinks it does, “rugged individualism,” self-reliance, freedom from the dictates of society and forming one’s own views about things. We are, after all, primarily a people created of wave after wave of immigration from various kinds of foreign oppression, and then also to a large extent heirs of the pioneers who within our own continent and through most of our history moved ever further westward away from the bustle of society until it caught up with us. To this very day we tend to be restlessly unrooted from community and place. American individualism is an extreme form of the European trend which has long advocated the value of the individual, of self-interest, of individual rights in politics, economics and philosophy, ideas that must until recently probably seemed bizarre in much of Asia.

Yet individualism resonates with much in Essential Buddhism, with its emphasis on turning within, on personal practice and development, on individual effort, on seclusion. Each of us practices in the realm of karma and no one can do our practice for us.

I am the owner of my actions (kamma), heir to my actions, born of my actions, related through my actions, and have my actions as my arbitrator. Whatever I do, for good or for evil, to that will I fall heir. – AN 5.57

Consider that our most profound experiences of insight and attainment of stages of Awakening are individual, not group, experiences. This is in contrast to many religious traditions, including the Vedic tradition against which the Buddha’s teachings were set, in which certain people are qualified often uniquely qualified to intercede on behalf of the individual’s destiny. Essential Buddhism represents a strong form of individualism, though not necessarily equivalent to American Folk individualism.

It is hardly surprising that individualism as a strong factor in American and Western culture should also be a strong factor in American and Western Folk Buddhism. Here, as with other aspects of Folk Buddhism, my interest will be in investigating to what extent its particular forms are friendly to, indifferent to or inimical to Essential Buddhism.

Siddhartha. The individual seeker is a theme of Western mythology. It is also a Protestant ideal, to develop and individual relationship with God or Jesus. In Siddhartha, Hermann Hesse’s novel which inspired many people to begin to explore Buddhism, the protagonist chooses after actually meeting the Buddha to find his own path, much as the Buddha had found his own path a generation earlier, and rather than joining the Buddha’s order of ordained disciples, … and, after much tribulation and not as quickly as the Buddha had, succeeds!

We love guys like that, and find them also outside of the religious realm as well. When I was a kid I used to watch a TV show called McKale’s Navy, a comedy about a PT boat commander and his crew in the South Pacific during WWII. They rejected all conventions, displayed no hint of discipline, vexed the senior officers to no end through their escapades, yet when called to action they always engaged the enemy with such courage, skill (which seemed to materialize out of nowhere, since we never saw them doing things like target practice) and exemplary results that all previous transgressions of military discipline were always forgiven.

McKale-like qualities of are commonly attributed Zen in particular. Alan Watts tells us that its “ancient exponents were universal individualists” who did not belong to any organization nor relied on formal authority. This history of Zen in Tang China belies this from top to bottom, which became in fact very hierarchical and entrenched in Chinese society at an early age, yet quirkiness and iconoclasm is in fact part of the Zen lore that emerged in China in retrospect hundreds of years after the period of Zen’s ancient exponents, and this lore has particular appeal in American Folk Buddhism. I have often wondered just how long a tradition could recognizably survive in which everyone is actively overthrowing the tradition.

The Buddha asks us to be a lamp unto ourselves, and also sets us in a direction that goes against the stream, that is, it does not really make sense to conventional ways of thinking. In a sense American individualism is an asset and American Buddhism attracts some rather quirky individuals. Nonetheless it is important to find a balance: The Buddha gives us a guidebook so that while we are wandering in the wilderness being lamps unto ourselves, we don’t need to run into trees, stumble over rocks or plunge headlong down declivities as we seek our way. He also asked us to learn from one another, to find kalyanamitta, good spiritual friends, as sources of advice and inspiration as the foundation of any progress on our search. He set up a supportive community structure so that seekers might gain the space in their lives for their quest. And he set up a system of rigorous training so that our lamps might shine brightly. Be a light onto yourself, but be sure you are fully prepared and equipped, otherwise your task will be hopeless.

I offer the forgoing as a caveat, since I sense that many of my compatriots are ready in the spirit of McKale to reject many of the underpinnings of Essential Buddhism out of hand before they are properly understood. This reinforces the Protestant rejection of authority, elements of religiosity and disregard for the community institutions already described as problematic in American Folk Buddhism. We need to temper or individualism with wisdom that we not throw important elements of Essential Buddhism naively out with the bathwater.

Our Authentic Self. A common Western Folk understanding is that Buddhism (or sometimes Zen) is about getting to know, trust and to free your authentic, inner or true self or nature, a self that has been suppressed by social conditioning and other inauthentic factors, but when unleashed is the source of creativity, spirituality, virtue and wisdom. Often the authentic self is identified with Buddha Nature, a pristine aspect of ourselves free from defilement, which is capable of awakening or even already awakened.

The innermost self struggling to break free or be found, like Buddha Nature seems to stand precariously on the line between metaphor and metaphysics. The concept of Buddha Nature was not expounded by the Buddha, but is very prominent in the enormous Mahayana school. It originally stood for something like our potential for attaining Buddhahood, which was viewed as a seed that if properly nurtured can grow into the bodhi tree of awakening. It is an innocent metaphor that can easily generalize to many other things, for instance, to our potential for becoming an accountant or a basketball star. Unfortunately it was often reified into something more soul-like that had people in East Asia speculating, for instance, which half of a worm cut in two would end up with the Buddha Nature (to which Dogen incisively suggested we might better ask instead which half of the Buddha Nature cut in two would end up with the worm). We might think of Buddha nature as a metaphor similar to Michaelangelo’s description of the sculpture’s task as that of uncovering the statue already existent in the stone. Both this and Buddha Nature are ways of viewing the future as inherent in the present. I suspect the innermost self might fruitfully be regarded in the same way. But the real issue is how do we get there from here.

This authentic self typically has the following specific qualities:

• The authentic self is independent of social roles, culture and conventions.
• Social roles, culture and conventions are oppressive to the authentic self.
• Creativity, spontaneity, goodness and art are external expressions that flow out from the authentic self. This is self-expression, this is being natural.
• Spirituality adheres in the authentic self, while religion is found in external rules, conventions and dogma.
• We must learn to trust the inner experience and inner vision of the authentic self, that which comes naturally, that which is true to ourselves.

Although the idea of the authentic self accords with the dedication Buddhists have to inner work, to studying the self and forgetting to self, we would be hard pressed indeed to find any of these rather specific statements represented in traditional Buddhist literature, except perhaps that in some accounts of Buddha Nature has a kind of spiritual potential. For many in Asia, in fact, the self is identified primarily in terms of cultural, social and familiar relations. Although the Buddha recommends leaving home and severing social ties for those wishing to go forth into the monastic life, he then places them under rather strong social control.

If these statements do not have a Buddhist origin, where did they come from? The answer is … European Romanticism and its later expressions. It is found in people like Locke and Rousseau, Schiller and Schliermacher, representing the idea of human rationality free from social constraints, of morality and wisdom coming directly from the human heart, of naturalness. The disparagement of society and convention was later adopted by Freud, who apparently had no interest whatever in Buddhism. The outflow of the inner self is often taken up in the art of the Romantic era; Wordsworth, for instance, stated that “all good poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings.” See McMahan’s Making of Buddhist Modernism and also Thanissaro’s essay “Romancing the Buddha” for more on the Romantic origin of these ideas. Nonetheless these statements are commonly attributed to Buddhism, so they are a part of American Folk Buddhism.

But how well does the Folk Buddhist model of the mind expressed in these statements accord with Essential Buddhism? We can anticipate a similarity: If wires have gotten crossed between Buddhism and European Romanticism then the wires might to some degree look alike. The Folk Buddhist model suggests introspective development of the mind through ridding it of defilements so that something pure shines through. This could as well describe the Essential Buddhism understanding in which that which is skillful and wholesome is encouraged while that which is unskillful or unwholesome is let go. Two ways in which this Folk Buddhist models differs from Essential Buddhism is, first as mentioned, identifying the defilements with cultural or social conditioning and, second, the idea of an authentic self as something that we can not only recognize but that we can listen to.

In Essential Buddhism Buddhist practice always takes place in a social matrix. Surrounding ourselves with kalyanamitta is essential. We take formal vows. As mentioned last week the Buddhist community is designed to support beneficial practice. Most of us meditate together and observe the same schedule during meditation retreats with our co-yogis. Even the fact that the Buddha’s teachings have been transmitted to us through one hundred generations is an achievement of society.

Now we tend to be reasonably cynical and jaded about our culture in the West. Indeed ours is fraught with hazardous influences in its competitiveness, its commodification of everything under the sun, even out relationships with others, its gossip and lies, its greed and swindling, its hatred and violence. But saying “I’ve had it with cultural conditioning!” is a little like surviving a tornado and declaring, “I’ve had it with air!” What will you breathe? In Essential Buddhism defilements rise or fall with our own deeds; we don’t need to trace the specific source of conditions, whether social, inferential, circumstantial or lost in the mists of the past (maybe even past lives), only to make skillful choices now.

What is this authentic self? The implication is that we have immediate access to it and that it can be a compass for our outward expression. Like “the self” (atta/atman), if it is even distinct from this, it is rather illusive when we look for it. What we directly experience is the relentless arising and falling of mental factors, some of which on close and detailed examination through practice reveal themselves to be skillful and other not so. Do we bundle the skillful together and call that the authentic self? Essential Buddhism views the natural state of the “uninstructed worldling,” prior to or at the beginning of Buddhist practice, as almost hopelessly mired in greed, hatred and delusion and generally not skilled in recognizing what is skillful or unskillful, beneficial or harmful. If we think we know at an early stage what is our authentic self and what is not what keeps that notion from being a full participant in our world of delusion, in the way “the self” is so implicated in Essential Buddhism? If instead we think of the essential self as a projection forward to the end of the path of practice, then it seems to me that is not so problematic.

It must be understood that Buddhism is not about self-expression, it is about expressly abandoning a self. Buddhism is about seeing clearly the factors of mind that arise naturally, but then understanding their consequences, recognizing which of them get us into trouble, into entanglement in saṃsāric life, in the life that is an endless problem for self and other, and then to chose to shape the human character accordingly. Buddhism is about looking outside of the box, to see the big picture, to base life in clarity. You can self-express your naturally arising greed, hate and delusion until the cows come home; you will make no progress on the Buddhist path.

Next week I may discuss meditation or maybe gender equality in American Folk Buddhism.

New Moon, Uposatha, May 20, 2012            Series Index

The Sangha in American Folk Buddhism

To recap: I have been describing the distribution of knowledge within the Buddhist community. The Buddhist community can be viewed as something like a comet, with a head and a tail trailing off from the head. The head is Essential Buddhism, that is, Buddhism per se. It is the Path as the Buddha expounded it or something functionally equivalent that has resulted from historical adaptations, modifications and sometimes enhancements (for instance, giving us something like Zen in contrast to Village Theravada). The head is occupied by the adepts, people whose understanding and practice is most entwined and engaged in Essential Buddhism.

The tail is Folk Buddhism, that is, the popular understanding of Buddhism colored by and admixed with that particular folk culture. The tail is peopled by those of progressively less understanding or engagement in the particulars of Essential Buddhism. And yet, as Buddhists who have taken Refuge in the Triple Gem, those in the tail know in which direction the head is found and are open to the softening and shaping influence of Essential Buddhism, without which they would simply scatter into space or realign themselves into cultic globs not recognizably Buddhist. In fact, in almost any Buddhist community those of the tail are offered ample opportunity and encouragement to move to the head, particularly along the monastic path, that is, to undertake intense study and practice.

Refuge in Buddha, Dharma and Sangha, tends to keep the members of the community oriented toward the Essential Buddhist head. It is the acknowledgment of the Buddha and his attainment, of the sparkling teachings of Buddhism whether or not they are yet comprehended, and the recognition of adepts as the living representatives of Essential Buddhism, the one’s best able to correct misunderstandings. In this way the values of Essential Buddhism flow into and come to characterize the community at large, values such as peace, generosity and contentment.

The Sangha in the Triple Gem. I need to point out that the Sangha referred to in the Triple Gem, the one that is connected to the Essential Buddhist adepts, is not the same as the Sangha as most commonly understood in Western Folk Buddhism. “Sangha” in the West is almost always understood as a Buddhist community as a whole whether Essential or Folk, for instance, lending this word to names for informal weekly meditation and discussion groups like “the Sofa So Good Zen Sangha,” or “the Muddy Lotus Sangha.” This is not actually an incorrect usage, for “Sangha” in either Sanskrit or Pali means group or community, but the early discourses clearly specify a more narrow meaning in the context of the Triple Gem, one that is still recognized throughout Buddhist Asia, in both Theravada and Mahayana countries. Actually two alternative meanings are offered, then lumped together:

1. The monastic community, the fully ordained monks and nuns, in Pali, the Bhikkhusangha (in Sanskrit Bhikshusangha).
2. The set of “stream enterers,” “once returners,” “non-returners” and “arahants,” those in other words who have a certain stage on the Path to Awakening, also known in Pali as the Ariyasangha (Noble Sangha), or the “Fourfold Sangha” for the four stages of attainment represented.

Notice that the Ariyasangha corresponds closely to what I have been calling “adepts.” These are the ideal people to act as teachers, as role models as wise advisors for the Buddhist community. The Bhikkhusangha is the traditional institution designed to produce members of the Ariyasangha, just as graduate school is the institution designed to produce scholars, and as such is only a rough approximation of the Ariyasangha. The Bhikkhusangha is those individuals who have the least excuse for not being adepts. In the discourses if someone extolls the virtues of the Sangha Gem, it is generally clear that he is talking about the Ariyasangha. However, if someone first converts to Buddhism by reciting the Refuges, they usually specify by name the Bhikkhusangha. In practical terms the two sanghas are simply conflated, I suppose much as von Humboldt lumped university students and professors alike under the rubric “community of scholars,” which I’ve always thought must be a good prod for even the dimmest or most shiftless of them to get with the program. It is the Bhikkhusangha to whom the Buddha entrusted the preservation of the Sasana, that is, Essential Buddhism, for coming generations.

Where is the Western Sangha? As a Westerner, when you recite the Refuges, what Sangha do you, or should you, have in mind? This is a bit of a dilemma. The Bhikkhusangha is slim and those of us who there are, tend not to jump out at you (but at least I have a few of you reading my blog). The Ariyasangha is most likely actually larger than the Bhikkhusangha in the West, since there are many remarkably dedicated and experienced lay practitioners, many of whom have engaged in long periods of monastic training. But who are these ariyans? There are certain people who publicly declare their personal Awakening, but for every person who believes them there are probably ten who think instead that they are all on ego trips. There are the teachers, some strictly trained and authorized, some self-professed, some very charismatic and talkative, some demanding and strict. Some if you look closely teach pure Folk Buddhism and have little idea of what the Buddha or the other great teachers actually taught. Others have doctorates in Buddhist studies.

It is not obvious how we might understand and observe the Third Refuge in America without a clearly defined object symbol. I suppose it is a matter of seeking out the Wise in every context. It turns out a large portion of the teachers and authors who are publicly well known in the West are Sangha in the traditional sense: Thich Nhat Hanh, the Dalai Lama, Pema Chodron, Bhante Gunaratana, Thubten Chodron, Bhikkhu Bodhi, Thanissaro Bhikkhu, etc.. And all of these are extraordinarily wise people, excellent resources for conveying the Dharma and exemplary role models. However locally you might have to scramble around a bit to find the wise. But this is also how you find a worthy teacher.

Teachers as Sangha. A starting point for finding a wise teacher can be adapted from the Buddha, who in the “Chanki Sutta” (MN 95) provides criteria for evaluating the wisdom of a monk in this regard:

“There is the case, Bharadvaja, where a monk lives in dependence on a certain village or town. Then a householder or householder’s son goes to him and observes him with regard to three mental qualities — qualities based on greed, qualities based on aversion, qualities based on delusion: ‘Are there in this venerable one any such qualities based on that, with his mind overcome by these qualities, he might say, “I know,” while not knowing, or say, “I see,” while not seeing; or that he might urge another to act in a way that was for his/her long-term harm & pain?’ As he observes him, he comes to know, ‘There are in this venerable one no such qualities based on greed… His bodily behavior & verbal behavior are those of one not greedy. And the Dhamma he teaches is deep, hard to see, hard to realize, tranquil, refined, beyond the scope of conjecture, subtle, to-be-experienced by the wise. This Dhamma can’t easily be taught by a person who’s greedy.‘

And similarly:

‘There are in this venerable one no such qualities based on aversion …

‘There are in this venerable one no such qualities based on greed…

Such a person, monk or lay, would be worthy of being held in mind when one recites the Refuges or the Triple Gem.

Notice that these criteria should steer you away from the ubiquitous oversexed teachers or teachers who demand a fee. Of course you should also inquire of the candidate what his training is and who he studied with. At least some period of monastic training is a key qualification. Western style academic study in Buddhism can be an important less traditional factor; the tuned critical mind has a way of cutting through much confusion that the Asian Sangha often experiences in interpreting the Dharma. But academic training must be balanced with Buddhist practice, the ultimate arbiter, lest it instead introduce even more confusion.

The Monastic Sangha is Better than Plaster. The monastic Sangha serves a number of roles in Asia besides the generation of ariyans, adepts and teachers. A fundamental role is the provision of a visible and very present symbol of reverence. The role of the symbol of reverence is clear in the case of statues of the Buddha. The statue itself might be of plaster; it is not the Buddha itself. Yet it has deep meaning and inspiration to many Buddhists partly because of it provides a physical opportunity for expressing refuge in the Buddha. As we have seen in the case of Burmese Folk Buddhism it is even common to offer food to a plaster Buddha statue as as a way of connecting emotionally with the First Gem.

Monastics play a similar role with respect to the Sangha Gem that Buddha statues do with respect to the Buddha Gem, only more so. First of all, a monastic stands for the community of adepts that has upheld Buddhism for one hundred generations so that it might be transmitted to America in our time. Second, the monastic is a living, breathing entity, not just plaster. You can not only talk to one but she will answer back. Third, if a particular monastic is not an adept or an ariyan, she is still no worse a symbol than the plaster Buddha, but whereas the plaster can never be a real Buddha there is actually a strong possibility that she is an adept or an ariyan in the flesh. Fourth, the monastic will actually eat the food offerings you make to her, which is more gratifying to the donor than the hard-to-please plaster Buddha statue.

The Happiness Farm. When I began many years ago to visit Asian monasteries in America, not yet knowing I was doing early research for this series on American Folk Buddhism, I was struck by how different the Asian Buddhist communities felt from the American, and by how similar they Asian Buddhist communities felt to each other. They seemed universally like happy places, full of generosity and eagerness to participate and help, filled with a sense of appreciation for each other. They also always had a visible monastic Sangha, toward whom lay people seemed not submissive, in spite of conventional gestures of respect, but rather affectionate. There was a bit of mystery in this since these communities represented quite divergent Asian cultures, like Chinese, Vietnamese, Thai, Burmese and Sri Lankan. There was nothing I had ever read about Buddhism that would account for the common elements that I sensed in all these Buddhist communities.

As I wondered about this I did come across a single essay that helped unlock the mystery, by Ajaan Thanissaro, called “The Economy of Gifts.” Otherwise nobody seems ever to have written about this. It seems that the common element that accounts for the common dispositions of these communities traces directly back to the traditional monastic discipline as defined by the Buddha. These are rules of training that the monastic observes, and yet the lay community benefits in implicit ways. Here is in brief how this works:

The monstic Sangha is fueled by uncoerced generosity. Monastic vows, as the Buddha formulated them, make the monastic utterly dependent on the laity, much like a house pet is utterly dependent on its owner, for she cannot have a livelihood nor engage in exchange. The following arise from this:

• First, the laity is offered a focus for the Buddhist practice of generosity, Dana, the first Paramita. This focus is sharpened by the reverence for the monastic Sangha entailed by the Triple Gem.
• Second, the monastic has, alongside study and other forms of practice, much leisure also to practice generosity, usually manifesting as teaching, social service or pastoral care (and in effect, the laity receives the benefit an exceedingly inexpensive clergy).
• Third, this dependence defines a reciprocal line of authority that balances the natural monastic authority as the Third Gem: The laity in the end has the keys to the car.

I have so far described the Sangha’s authority with respect to the Folk Buddhist practitioner, but note that this authority is only conveyed as wisdom or knowledge and conduct; it has no coercive power beyond the layperson’s willingness to accept advice or admonition or to view the monastic as a role model. The laity’s authority is more coercive: Dissatisfaction with the monastic Sangha, for instance, can turn into withdrawal of support, a constant check on the integrity of the Sangha.

In short, the Buddhist community is organized into two distinct complementary roles with generosity as its lifeblood. The tradition of alms rounds takes the opportunity for generosity into the villages. Monasteries tend to become community centers in which generosity is a primary element. In practice this generosity spills over into many other circumstances, simply because it feels good. For instance the monastery in which I live in Texas is also a meditation center. A layperson who would like to come here for a retreat could expect to be be housed and fed at no charge simply because there are others who donate who believe in the value of that layperson’s practice just as they believe in the value of monastic practice. In fact such monasteries as community centers almost always stand entirely outside of the exchange economy, just as monastics in principle live entirely outside of the exchange economy. The Buddhist community is an economy of gifts.

Because generosity is such a joyful condition monasteries like the one I live in are very happy places in which to practice this fundamental Buddhist value, as well as a wholesome environment into which to bring the kids. This was a critical factor in my decision to ordain in a fully monastic tradition. Alongside the still somewhat tentative recognition that the Path of Renunciation was important in personal development as a Buddhist practitioner, I wanted to be a part of the development of wholesome communities in a land which has lost track of the value of community.

Developing a Western Sangha. Buddhism begins with the Triple Gem. It is what unifies Folk and Essential Buddhism. Yet in the West we do not have a clear concept of the Third Gem, not as a repository of expertise, much less as a defining factor in the formation of wholesome Buddhist communities. On the other hand we certainly have many strong elements in Western Buddhism that can contribute to the production of adepts and teachers. I wanted to highlight this issue today because how it plays out will be critical in the ongoing development of American Buddhism.

Last Quarter Moon, Uposatha, May 13, 2012

The Triple Gem in American Folk Buddhism

Refuge in the Triple Gem, the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha, is in the intersection of Essential and Folk Buddhism. In fact it is what makes Folk Buddhism Buddhism. Repeatedly in the Suttas the newly convinced becomes a disciple of the Buddha by taking refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha. The Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha nourish the entire practice of Buddhism and at the same time anchors Folk Buddhism in Essential Buddhism by weeding out or adapting those elements of Folk Buddhism that are inimical to Essential Buddhism. Refuge in the Triple Gem is to place faith or trust in the authority of Essential Buddhism by accepting the authority of its three representatives.

At the time an American first enters the Buddha way she will likely have found something that has impressed her, perhaps the story of the Buddha’s life, perhaps the first encounter with the Buddha’s teachings, perhaps an encounter with someone who is a worthy product of Buddhist practice and understanding, perhaps all three. She will still understand little about just what Buddhism is for that gets very complicated, nor will she have ventured far into Buddhist practice for it is a long path. Much of her familiarity with Buddhism will likely have been gained largely through folk influences or through her own culturally based assumptions. She has probably read popular literature rather than delving into the particulars of Buddhist Studies. That is all fine.

But she has decided that wants to go further into Buddhism and is potentially on a steep learning curve. By taking refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha she opens her mind to the guidance of the corrective, instructive, exemplary and inpirational influences of Essential Buddhism and expresses a willingness to give up false understandings acquired through less reputable sources as she learns that some do not accord with Essential Buddhism. This is analogous to trusting the results of scholarly research more than urban legend, neighborly hearsay or the opinions of TV pundits. It is also analogous to hanging a picture of Gandhi on her wall to keep the principles and values he represents steadfast in mind while negotiating all of the unsavory influences in the world around her.

Free Thinking. Asian Folk Buddhisms tend to embellish the Triple Gem quite a bit, often turning them from objects of reverence to objects of deep devotion and worship, often wrapping mythology around the objects, stories of supernatural forces and miracles, and in the case of the Buddha transcendent existence. These embellishments nonetheless generally remain close to the function of the Triple Gem in Essential Buddhism in that they serve to enhance the authority of Essential Buddhism, to inspire and make the mind that much more open to its influence. However this tendency toward embellishment has little currency yet in American Folk Buddhism, in fact many American Buddhists swing the other way.

A common factor in the way the Refuges are practiced and understood in American Folk Buddhism is free-thinking, captured for instance in the following quote:

“Believe nothing, no matter where you read it, or who said it, no matter if I have said it, unless it agrees with your own reason and your own common sense.” – “The Buddha”

Free-thinking is related to the Protestant rejection of authority that we discussed last week, but more importantly to the post-(European-)Enlightenment regard for rational or critical thinking and the parallel disparagement of “faith,” and accounts for the popularity in the West of the quote above. This passage was however never spoken by the Buddha. I don’t know who made it up.

Critical thinking is certainly a strength of Western culture, one that has already served Buddhism well, not so much Folk Buddhism as Essential Buddhism. We are now in a historical process of reconsidering much of what has been unquestioned in Asian Buddhism for many centuries and this is driven largely by Western or Western-influenced scholarship. For instance many texts have been attributed directly to the Buddha for centuries that modern scholarship has revealed to be of more recent origin. Traditional accounts of the history of the various Buddhist schools have likewise endured without question have been discredited. Comparisons of texts in diverse languages open up new possibilities for interpretation. The melting of a lot of frozen assumptions in the various Buddhists traditions promises to open up Buddhism is many beneficial ways. However an extreme form of free-thinking can be detrimental to Essential Buddhism.

Come and See. Let me invoke a couple of concrete examples to illustrate what is misguided in the free-thinking quote provided above. Briefly it suggests that even at the beginning of Buddhist practice one is already competent to apply reason and common sense usefully. The Buddhist position is that the typical uninstructed worldling is actually pretty deluded. The Buddha claimed that the Dharma goes “against the stream,” because it does not make a lot of sense to the average person. We live in a looking glass world in which what we think is forward is actually backward and right is wrong. Following the advice of the quote above cannot produce good results; in fact it is difficult to see how that is different than what one is doing before one discovers Buddhism.

What does appeal in Buddhism to the critical thinker is the Buddha’s basic method of instruction: “Come and see!” What the Buddha taught is almost always based firmly in direct experience, it is empirical. Now, the phrase “come and see” is concise, but that does not always make it easy. First, when the Buddha says “come” he is shouting down to us from the mountaintop. To arrive at his vantage point we need to scramble up hills, struggle through brambles, ford rivers. When the Buddha says “see” we need to focus our eyes intently in the right direction to barely make out what the Buddha sees with great clarity of vision. In order to be willing to do any of this we have to start out with great faith and trust already that the Buddha knows what he is talking about. This is Refuge in the Buddha and his teachings. What else would induce us to make the difficult climb up the mountain?

To take a first example, in my early days of Buddhist study I learned that craving is the origin of suffering (the Second Noble Truth). At first I thought of this as an abstract proposition, one that I would have to approach intellectual to try to match up with observation. I would have rejected it out of hand on the basis of common sense: It seemed pretty clear to me at the time that buying that snazzy shirt would make me more dashing and that that would lead to prospects for romance and be cool besides. This would be how craving leads to happiness not suffering, a clear counterexample. Yet instead I trusted the Buddha.

Through much reflection and a lot of meditation it was still some time before I saw what the Buddha was getting at,: The Second Noble Truth is not an abstraction at all; it is something that can be observed directly over and over. As soon as the craving comes up the suffering is right there with it. As soon as I “had” to have that shirt, there was stress and anxiety. But as soon as I backed up a bit with the thought, “I don’t really need that,” the suffering vanished. I realized I had been living in a world of incessant suffering, a world that was aflame, and I had not even noticed with all my vast reason and common sense. Arriving at what the Buddha was getting at was a matter of scrambling, struggling and fording to reach the mountaintop, but once I got there, reality spread out before me.

I would not have gotten there without faith in the Buddha and his teaching, and once I did get there that faith grew greater. Similarly, Shohaku Okumura has said of Zen meditation, “It takes a lot of faith to do zazen. Otherwise nobody would do something so stupid.” From the perspective of the uninstructed worldling, for the person simply applying reasoning and common sense, it will appear stupid. Most of Essential Buddhism will appear stupid.

The second example involves my role as a Buddhist teacher. A couple of years ago I was in ongoing dialog with a young man concerning matters Buddhistes. I observed that he was habitually and very vocally critical of almost every one around him, and that he even pried into private matters in order to expand the scope of his criticism with an almost missionary zeal. I could see that this was not a wholesome project on many different levels so I decided to call him on it. I recommended that for one year he try not to criticize anyone, that when a critical thought arises he simply let it go and by no means express it verbally. Then after a year he could tell me what he had learned. This would be pure “come and see.” He refused to do it! Not only that, he mustered an array of reasons that to his common sense convinced him that he should continue his worthy project. “If people don’t correct things how are things ever going to get better?” and so on. I have a developed rational faculty myself so I tried to argue with him for a bit, but on reflection I could not recall anyone ever convincing someone else of anything through rational argument that they did not already want to believe, except maybe occasionally in academic circles, so I did not pursue this further. Here I was, standing maybe not on a mountaintop but at least on a hilltop, inviting him to come and see what I could see, and there he was standing below among the bushes and trees telling me he could see perfectly well. This is what happens when someone does not take refuge in the Sangha. I realized that this was a person not yet ready for Buddhist practice, and that there was nothing I could do to help.

Faith in Buddhism. What really frightens the critical thinker is blind faith, faith for which he is given no way to come out the other side. The Buddha had a lot to say about faith and as the Kalama Sutta tells us, he did not have much regard for blind faith, nor for what is arrived at by reason or common sense for that matter. He did however admonish his disciples to listen to the wise, those who can see further than they. The Buddha saw faith essentially as provisional, a way to arrive at seeing and knowing, something you eventually come out the other side of. Coming takes faith, seeing convinces one that one’s faith was well placed.

Faith is the indispensable bold part of human cognition. We live in a world of great uncertainty, yet we know we must act and that our actions will have real consequences. Faith is what bridges or leaps over the gap between what we know and what we really need to know to gain confidence in our actions. I’ve already written a series on faith (click here), so I will not elaborate here.

Blind faith exists in Buddhism, however it is not by design. It exists out of laziness, because over time many assumptions can go unexamined when people learn them at an uncritically young age generation after generation for many centuries. This has clearly happened repeatedly in Asia, though there have been occasional reformation movements to clear up the sludge. This is where critical thinking can play a crucial role as Westerners look at Essential Buddhism with fresh eyes.

The basis of Buddhist faith, the basis of all of Buddhism, is the Triple Gem. It is faith that the three representatives of Essential Buddhism know what they are talking about. Unless you place faith in your doctor or acupuncturist you cannot be healed. Unless you place faith in the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha you will not experience what Buddhism is all about and will not realize its benefits. It is at first jumping into the unknown … but you come out the other side to inspire others, “Jump in! The water’s fine.”

Finding the Triple Gem. So, where are these three objects of faith, trust and reverence to be found? Because we have such a daunting plethora of Buddhist traditions in America, and because the monastic tradition is almost entirely absent, these are not trivial questions.

The Buddha was a real person who lived some hundred generations ago, attained some remarkable qualities including Awakening and was able to formulate a path by which others could attain those qualities. He has been represented symbolically for us for perhaps ninety-two generations through statuary to provide a more emotionally satisfying and present object of reverence. However, there are some schools of Buddhism that substitute other figures, such as the mythical Amitabha Buddha for the historical Buddha. Nonetheless functionally the substitute plays a similar role, since the substitute is assumed to have those same remarkable qualities. Sometimes a highly regarded teacher, such as Dogen or Tsong Kha Pa, assumed to have acquired similar qualities assumes some of the role of the first Gem.

The Dharma is the teachings of the Buddha. This is certainly most literally represented by the ancient Suttas or Agamas. These are made tangible through recitation and chanting. However there are many schools of Buddhism and almost every one assumes a distinct scriptural basis. Sometimes the physical text becomes an object of veneration, as does a scroll of the Lotus Sutra does in the Nichiren School. My feeling is that Essential Buddhism can be discovered in most of the major schools of Buddhism, that even if they do not quote the Buddha literally or accurately, a functional equivalence to the original Buddha’s teachings is present in the scriptural foundation of most schools. I recommend that the American Buddhist interested in the investigating authenticity of a particular version of the Dharma become familiar with the Pali Suttas or the Chinese Agamas as a way of cross-checking for accurate transmission to our land.

The Sangha consists of living representatives of Essential Buddhism. Unfortunately the Sangha is difficult to find in the West and apparently as a result of this the term “Sangha” has been adjusted simply to refer to all Buddhists, Essential or Folk. This threatens to become a wedge between Folk and Essential Buddhism. Next week I would like to explore what “Sangha” means in American Folk Buddhism to complete the discussion of the Triple Gem.

Full Moon, Uposatha, May 5, 2012

Authority in American Folk Buddhism

To summarize, in any Buddhist society two kinds of Buddhism can be observed side-by-side (or more commonly overlapping): Essential Buddhism is the Dharma, or more properly the Dharma-Vinaya or the Sasana. It is sophisticated, best understood and preserved by adepts, who are people who have intensely devoted themselves to its practice and understanding. Folk Buddhism is the popular understanding and practice of Buddhism. It is less refined but more accessible to average people who have not had the opportunity or inclination to devote themselves intensely to Essential Buddhism. This bifurcation is inevitable and desirable in Buddhism.

This bifurcation is inevitable because of the sophistication of Essential Buddhism, which generally does not have a counterpart in other religious faiths. Buddhism can never be a cookie-cutter religion in which everyone practices in the same way without either losing Essential Buddhism or making an adept out of everyone. This bifurcation is desirable because it allows many people to enjoy the benefits of Buddhist practice, as long as the Folk Buddhism is wholesome, that is, informed by the values and practices of Essential Buddhism. Without Essential Buddhism and the Triple Gem, Folk Buddhism loses its mooring. I have illustrated this in the case of Burmese Buddhism.

Encountering American Buddhism

This is the social perspective; how about the individual perspective? If you grow up in a Buddhist society in Asia you will likely be steeped in Folk Buddhism from an early age, and you will be infused with values of kindness, generosity, virtue, and a reverence for the wise and virtuous and for those that live simple contemplative lives. But you will also have a choice, whether to enjoy a life in this context or to set out wholeheartedly on the Noble Eightfold Path that leads in the direction of Awakening. If you make the latter choice the society will support you in your aspirations, particularly if you ordain as a monk or nun. In practice, however, people vary wildly in how seriously they embrace Essential Buddhism or at what stage in life they embrace Essential Buddhism.

The non-Asian American who walks into an Asian temple will most immediately encounter its Folk Buddhism and may be startled how ethnic it is and how infused with rites and magic. The American who picks up a book by one of the great Buddhist teachers of Asia, on the other hand, will encounter Essential Buddhism and may be startled how directly it speaks to him, while at the same time how intriguingly obscure much of it is. This is the opposite of what the typical Asian at that temple experiences. Why is this? For one thing, our American friend is likely to be extremely well educated already possessing an intellectual sophistication (demographic studies confirm this) far greater than either the average American (who would not pick up such a book in the first place), or by the typical Asian, and will therefore have a leg up in approaching Essential Buddhism. For the other, she is unlikely to make sense of a folk culture so foreign to her own, nor recognize how that particular cultural expression has in fact been shaped by Essential Buddhism and the remaining differences smoothed over.

The non-Asian American who walks into an American Buddhist center, maybe to attend a lecture or meditate, will encounter Folk Buddhism and Essential Buddhism side by side, but this time it will be an American Folk Buddhism and something close to Asian Essential Buddhism. As Buddhism enters another culture it is important to preserve Essential Buddhism, but not Folk Buddhism because a new and ultimately more appropriate Folk Buddhism will arise from the encounter of Essential Buddhism with the indigenous folk culture. Most American Buddhist centers have Asian founders or can be traced back as an offshoot of an offshoot of a center with an Asian founders. It seems that the genius of the most successful Asian founders of such centers, such as Shunryu Suzuki Roshi or Chogyam Trungpa, is in their ability to separate Essential Buddhism from Folk Buddhism clearly in order to teach Essential Buddhism in a new cultural context. (American students of Suzuki who traveled with him to his old temple in Japan were startled to see him dealing competently with his native Folk Buddhist environment.) In this way Asian Folk Buddhism has for the most part been left behind very quickly.

What of the Asian trappings still found in many American Buddhist centers, the clothing, the incense, the bowing, the ritual practices, the rules of etiquette? In fact, these are generally parts of Essential Buddhism! Essential Buddhism has acquired many culturally means of expression on its route from the Buddha to us. For instance, the anjali or gassho (the prayer mudra) originated in Indian culture and has spread everywhere Buddhism has spread (and was apparently even through Buddhism injected into the Christian world). Gestures of respect are important in Essential Buddhism. If the anjali were to be lost it would have to be replaced with something else (maybe the military salute?). Mindfulness practices are important in Essential Buddhism. When Buddhism came to China it encountered a highly ritualized culture which provided rich resources for the practice of mindfulness, that were then carried along as a part of Essential Buddhism into America by Shunryu Suzuki and others. If Zen were to lose these particular culturally conditioned expressions they would have to be replaced by something else (Zen oryoki, for instance, replaced with an array of silverware and crystal drinking glasses?).

American Folk Buddhism is radically different from any Asian Folk Buddhism except those that are similarly influenced by modernity. For Americans our own Folk Buddhism seems much more rational, in that what in the West would be considered supernatural is largely absent, as are spirits or devas, and means of sharing merit with the dead. But it is also a largely a product of a particular American subculture, a very educated, white, middle-to-upper class culture that tends to reject things more than most other subcultures.

Folk Buddhism includes any a popular understanding or practice that in a particular culture is attributed (rightly or wrongly) to Buddhism. I will catalog some of these here, starting with authority in American Folk Buddhism, and indicate what its real origin is and try to assess how well it fits into Essential Buddhism, as near, intermediate or far. Many but not all of these features are described in David McMahan’s Making of Buddhist Modernism especially with respect to their ofttimes origin in movements like Protestant Christianity, Romanticism or Neoromanticism or the European Enlightenment. McMahan’s book is the inspiration for the reflections that led me to start this series on Folk Buddhism.

Authority in American Folk Buddhism

It is very common for American Buddhists to reject almost all traces of authority or compulsion, specifically targeting a list of things almost in the same breath that curiously are both found in Buddhism throughout Asia and also quite characteristically in much Western religion:

“Organized religion, hierarchy, bah!”
“Religious authority, priests, monks, rules, humbug!”
“Religious imagery, sacred objects, twaddle!”
“Religious doctrine, poppycock!”
“Rituals, bows, balderdash!”

In fact, one often hears the vehement assertion that the Buddha never taught these things or, perhaps trying to make the same point, that “The Buddha didn’t try to create an organized religion.” The rejection of such elements is a feature of much but not all of American Folk Buddhism.

How well does this feature relate to Essential Buddhism? There is a hint of truth in the claims of American Folk Buddhism in that most of these things are minimalized in Essential Buddhism, However none of them is absent. Maybe this is most succinctly captured when Ajahn Brahm calls Buddhism, “the most disorganized religion.”

In fact, the Buddha did organize his community of disciples and the basic structure of that organization, as he intended, persists today in almost every Buddhist culture in Asia. However, this organization, as he gave it to us, is remarkably flat, decentralized and non-coercive. Often in Asian Folk Buddhism this becomes much more hierarchical, far from the Buddha’s intentions.

The Buddha organized the Buddhist community through the Vinaya, the monastic code. But even within the monastic order there is little hierarchy. Junior monks are asked to pay respect to senior monks, with seniority determined strictly in terms of ordination date and a monk is required to have a teacher for the first five years, but can change teachers, and the student has the authority to admonish the teacher under appropriate circumstances. All major decisions of a local community, that is, the group of monks that is able to meet together in one place, are made through consensus, with a junior monk having the same veto power as a senior monk. No authority comes from beyond the local community, except for the ancient authority of the Vinaya itself. Coercion is minimal within the monastic community and does not extend to the lay community. For the monks it is largely an honor system with provisions for acknowledging transgressions, sometimes the imposition of mild sanctions but never physical punishments. Through any of a handful of transgressions a monk expels himself automatically from the community. On the other hand Buddha clearly did create orders of monks and nuns separate from the laity in terms of obligations and privileges, defined a highly regulated life for the monastics, and made the monastic orders identifiable with the admonition, “Don’t dress like lay people.”

He could have set up a hierarchy something like Pope and bishops and a range of severe punishments for transgressing authority, but he did not. What is truly remarkable about the Buddha’s organization of the Buddhist community is how mild and fragile it seems, yet how durable it has proven itself. The Buddha clearly understood what he was doing for he makes it clear that a primary function of the monastic order is to protect the integrity of the Dharma for future generations. As far as I can see, the Buddhist monastic order is the world’s oldest continuous democracy, and because it is so decentralized it allows almost no opportunity for the accumulation of corrupting power.

The Buddha does not seem to have endorsed extensive use of imagery or sacred objects, but he did endorse the idea of pilgrimage to sacred sites connected with his own life. So again his approach was minimal. Of course imagery and sacred objects have manifested in abundance throughout Buddhist Asia, and probably will in America as well. This may well express a universal human need; myself, I don’t view it as inimical to Essential Buddhism.

The Buddha clearly rejected the efficacy of ritual, but not the expressive power; expressions of respect are found throughout the Suttas, including bowing. Although he had little interest in metaphysics or philosophical speculation, the Buddha did present a sophisticated doctrine, but one grounded in experience under the general principle that one should “come and see” (ehipassiko), that is, that it is available for inspection. (There are rare aspects that defy direct inspection, but given his minimalism it is certain that he had a good reason for teaching these.)

In general rejecting all authority seems to contradict much of Essential Buddhism. I don’t think anyone can even bake a cake without accepting some authority. It is puzzling that many American Buddhists are so adamant in their rejection of all hints of authority, especially since in modern secular realms their counterparts are widely tolerated, such as in the military, which a little reflection will reveal to have something like each of the features, from organization to gestures of respect, listed above.

We don’t have to look far to see the origin the rejection of these things. Although this rejection is commonly attributed in American Folk Buddhism to Buddhism itself, it has “Reformation” written all over it; these are the very things that Protestant Christians objected to in the Catholic Church and sought if not to eliminate altogether at least to challenge and minimize. This Protestant confrontation with the structure and practices of the Catholic Church has a bitter and painful history in Europe, including thirty years of bloody warfare, and has certainly left deep religious scars on Northern European and thereby American culture. Buddhist authority is many orders of magnitude milder than Catholic authority and its history bears this out, even if the outward appearance might sometimes coincide (berobed clergy, for instance), and yet the Protestant experience seems to have influenced the shape of American Folk Buddhism.

Heck, there is more hierarchy at your dentist’s office than in the entire Buddhist community that the Buddha left behind. The Buddha was a minimalist in many ways (consider the “handful of leaves” simile). He taught what was essential. A great deal of his genius is found in the way he organized the Buddhist community. He did this for a good reason, and was able to anticipate the results. Although the strongest rejection of authority is inimical to (far from) Essential Buddhism, the well intentioned distrust of authority that underlies it has already been anticipated by the Buddha. I would hope that a healthy Protestant distrust of religious authority will at least help to protect future American Buddhism from the centralization of authority found, for instance, in modern Thailand. That would be near the spirit of Essential Buddhism.

I will continue to take up a number of features of American Folk Buddhism in turn in the coming weeks. Right now I have the following headings in mind:

The Triple Gem

Individualism

Meditation

Commidification

Gender Equality

Social Engagement

What’s Missing?

First Quarter Moon, Uposatha, April 29, 2012

4. Burmese Folk Buddhism (2)

I began last week by taking Burmese Folk Buddhism to illustrate the relationship of Folk Buddhism, the popular understand of Buddhism predominant in an Buddhist culture, from Essential Buddhism, the adept’s understanding of Buddhism that is functionally the closest  to the Buddhadharma. By the way, a good source of information for the topic is Burmese Folk Buddhism is Melford Spiro’s Buddhism and Society: a great tradition and its Burmese vicissitudes, thought it was written about forty years ago. I will finish doing this here. This discussion is by no means a complete overview of Burmese Folk Buddhism but is meant to be illustrative, in order to achieve an outsider’s perspective of American Folk Buddhism next week.

Non-self, Merit and Generosity

Nirvana, rebirth and non-self are among the most important yet difficult concepts to understand in Essential Buddhism. It is therefore hardly surprising that they assume a naïve understanding in any culture’s Folk Buddhism. In Burmese Folk Buddhism non-self receives lip service but makes little sense: Not only is there is someone who gets reborn for the Folk Buddhist but that person is often identified with the pre-Buddhist “butterfly spirit” that flutters away from a previous body and can behave maliciously until it finds another host.

Many people work out who they were in their previous life, often a neighbor or a relative who died about a year or so before their rebirth. Most people would like a felicitous rebirth in the next life, either in the deva realm, in which suffering is almost unknown, or if in the human realm, as a wealthy or beautiful and in any case healthy and long-lived being. Most people fear rebirth in the lower realms, for instance, in the hell or animal realm. But the idea of escape from the cycle of death and rebirth, as advocated in the common language of Essential Buddhism, makes little sense, nor is it desirable except maybe as a means to avoid the lower realms altogether.

Accordingly Nirvana is often understood instead as a kind of super and permanent deva realm, a blissful world of eternal life, the bliss here  commonly taken to include a great of sensual pleasure. Those who do understand Nirvana as escape or extinction generally do not actually consider it desirable even while they commonly recite things like, “May I attain Nirvana.” Often they hope that after a good rebirth they will understand Nirvana a bit better and finally set their sights on that goal.

In such understandings the foundation of Buddhist practice becomes simple: the accumulation of personal merit, which will tend to make this life happier, but which will also help assure happy future lives. Merit (Pali, punnya) is a common concept in Essential Buddhism, but its understanding is itself a bit subtle. It is used basically as a summary means of quantifying progress in practice or in adjusting a karmic profile or intentionality in a positive direction. The tendency in Folk Buddhism is to conceptualize merit in even more simplified and occasionally misguided terms.

In Burmese Folk Buddhism merit tends to be measured in purely external terms. In most cases a demerit arises with the violation of a precept and merit as a demonstration of generosity (dana). There is a tendency to think of merits and demerits as yielding something like a bank account balance, and in fact Spiro reports that many Burmese actually keep an accurate ledger on paper of their merits and demerits throughout the day. If the balance sheet is positive the Folk Buddhist is doing pretty well.

There seem to be alternative systems of calculating merits. Spiro reports that in one account offering one person a meal counts as offering one hundred dogs a meal, offering one novice a meal counts as offering one hundred people a meal and offering one fully ordained monk a meal counts as offering one hundred novices a meal. In any case, there is in almost any such system a bias toward religious generosity and such merit is commonly held to correspond not so much to the need of the recipient as to the spiritual attainment of the recipient. There are cases in which a meditating forest monk who gains a reputation as an arahant, partly on the evidence of his secluded lifestyle and of the modesty of his personal needs, becomes the recipient of multiple cottages built by various donors on his behalf, all of which stand unused. Contributing the building of a pagoda is considered very meritorious, while for some reason contributing to the repair of an old pagoda is much less so. As a result it is common to see in Burma a shiny new pagoda under construction right next to a dilapidated one.  A wealthy person is generally regarded a having much more opportunity to gain merit than a poor person and this is one of the reasons rebirth as a wealthy person is considered to be desirable, though the sense of sacrifice, of creating personal hardship through generous deeds is also considered particularly meritorious.

What is missing in many of the Folk Buddhist methods of calculating merits is  reference to one’s intentions, which from the perspective of Essential Buddhism is all that counts. For instance, in Essential Buddhism if an outward act of generosity is motivated purely by desire for personal benefit then it carries no merit. If a poor person acts out of the same kindness as a rich person but can only afford 1% of the expenditure, the merit is the same. Personal benefit accrues along with the exercise and development of kindness and compassion. The Folk Buddhist model of calculating merits on the basis of outward actions alone can be rough at best.

I suspect that we will find in almost any Buddhist culture that a primary reason for the tension between Essential and Folk Buddhism is that the former looks primarily within while the latter looks primarily without. People with little cultivation of mind most naturally look at what they can observe in others and at what others can observe in them and that will shape the Folk Buddhist understanding. The Essential Buddhist is concerned almost continually with the internal life of perceptions, feelings and intentions.

Nonetheless, even the most recalcitrant Folk Buddhist cannot get away from the internal world. The fact is generosity is fun. In theory you might have a completely self-centered motivation for generosity if you think there is really something in it for you, such as future wealth, and you might have started out thinking that way. But it would be very hard for you not to get caught up in the warm and fuzzy spirit of generosity once you start practicing generosity outwardly, which is the spirit of kindness and compassion. In fact in Essential terms, this spirit is the beginning of karmic reward.

The upshot is that typical Burmese Folk Buddhist is a fountain of generosity and takes great delight in generosity; you can see it in his face, hear it in her voice, you can see it in how thoroughly she generalizes generosity far beyond the religious realm. Generosity is one of the most striking qualities of Burmese culture. The casual tourist becomes aware of it quite readily: He will easily become a recipient  even while falling outside the category of religious generosity. He will find that Burmese tend to take care of one another; they do not have a disposable population of homeless, in their very poor land. They also have little crime or beggars. Although the Folk Buddhist understanding of generosity is imperfect, there is something that seems to work, and even the most recalcitrant Essential Buddhist must see that much merit is being gained.
Merit, in Burmese Folk Buddhism, carries over beyond the encouragement of generosity and the discouragement of violating precepts. It is often viewed as the reason for other aspects of Buddhist practice, such as meditation, chanting or expressions of respect. These have more sophisticated justifications that simply “merit,” in Essential Buddhism, but nonetheless provide a simple way of conceptualizing Buddhist practice.

Relationship of Burmese Folk and Essential Buddhism.

When we look at elements of Folk Buddhism we can evaluate them in a number of ways. The most significant is its relationship to Essential Buddhism. A second derives from the bias of one’s own Folk Buddhism: Probably everyone falls in the trap when looking at one Folk Buddhism of evaluating itself in terms of one’s own Folk Buddhism. A third is what features are universal, that is, occur in every Folk Buddhism, yet not in Essential Buddhism. Here is roughly how Burmese Folk Buddhism seems to compare with Essential Buddhism (others may view some of these features differently).

(1) Near Essential Buddhism. These are features that are included in or tend to support or enhance elements of Essential Buddhism. These include attention given to the Triple Gem such as food offerings to the Buddha and offerings to monks. These tend to inspire people in Buddhist faith and open the mind to the corrective influence of Essential Buddhism.  The basic model of merit as an expression of the benefit accrued in actions and practice works to encourage Buddhist practice, particularly the practice of generosity.

(2) Intermediate to Essential Buddhism. These are innocuous supplements to Essential Buddhism. These include associating certain powers with relics, pagodas and images of the Buddha, rituals and chants for protection, and many of the influences attributed to nats or devas. I classify these as intermediate rather than far, because Essential Buddhism does not seem as far as I can see to care about all the extraneous things people might believe that we in the West might consider superstition or simply objectively wrong; they are neither right view nor wrong view.

(3) Far from Essential Buddhism. These are features inimical to Essential Buddhist principles. There is some perhaps some danger in attributing current conditions, such as power or poverty, as inevitable consequences of karma because it can lead to harmful actions or more likely passivity when action is more appropriate. Efficacy of ritual was clearly discounted by the Buddha as wrong view. The butterfly spirit contradicts no-self in Essential Buddhism.

Keep in mind that Burmese Folk Buddhism has developed over centuries in a culture with certain pronounced features, such as animism, but also under the corrective influence of Essential Buddhism. Without this corrective influence Burmese Folk Buddhism might well have floated off as part of an cultic bubble unachored in Essential Buddhism. Understanding flows as a corrective tendency from Essential to Folk Buddhism rather than in the other way, as we saw last week, because of refuge in the Triple Gem, the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha. In this way Folk Buddhism will tend not to corrupt or displace Essential Buddhism.

Monks frequently correct common attitudes toward the efficacy of ritual or attribute the real efficacy not to some kind of magic but taking the internal view to the power of ritual to develop confidence in the beneficiary. Although the Folk Buddhist understanding of merit differs from the Essential Buddhist understanding, people are at least reminded occasionally of the proper understanding even while the proper understanding is not entirely assimilated.

In summary, Burmese Folk Buddhism is largely anchored in Essential Buddhism, but trails off into less accurate understanding and eventually into misunderstanding. However deep faith in the Buddha, Dhamma, and Sangha tends to keep Burmese Folk Buddhists from drifting too far afield. The monks, representing the Sangha, often act as sheep herders to correct the most egregious deviations.

Next week we will begin to look at American Folk Buddhism in terms similar to the quite different Burmese Folk Buddhism.

New Moon, Uposatha, April 21, 2012

4. Burmese Folk Buddhism (1)

I want today to use Burma as an example of the difference between, and interrelatedness of, Essential and Folk Buddhism. I choose Burma primarily because I’ve gained quite a bit of familiarity with it, but also Burma provide a particularly good example of a very traditional strong Folk Buddhism happily coexisting with a markedly well maintained Essential Buddhism.

Essential Buddhism is evident in Burma in meditation practice, in the large proportion of monastics in the population, in the high standards in much monastic education, in the widespread familiarity with the Pali texts (there are monks who can recite thousands of pages from memory), in the ubiquitous practice of generosity throughout the culture, as well as the practices of precepts, of listening to Dhamma talks and discusing the Dhamma and of expression of faith in the Triple Gem. A number of Burmese in recent years have been widely regarded as arahants (they won’t actually tell you). Burma is particularly well known abroad for its many teachers of Vipassana meditation since meditation has undergone a massive revival since the middle of the Twentieth Century such that farmers and otherwise employed lay people now crowd 10-day meditation retreats. Burmese Vipassana schools are in fact well-represented in America today. Aung San Su Kyi through her many years of house arrest sustained a strong daily meditation practice; she is a follower of Pandita Sayadaw, a now elderly disciple of Mahasi Sayadaw, with whom people like Joseph Goldstein and Sharon Salzburg studied many years ago. Essential Buddhism is clearly not the exclusive domain of monastics in Burma.

Nevertheless, the average Buddhist, though perhaps devout, knows little of meditation, nor of the basic teachings of Buddhism, but is informed instead by a vibrant Folk Buddhism. Burma is a land of pagodas, solid structures that evolved architecturally from the burial mounds that originally held parcels of the Buddha’s relics after his parinirvana. Statues of the Buddha abound before which people bow fully touching their foreheads to the ground in reverence and to which they offer flowers and food. This average Burmese Buddhist inhabits a world of tree spirits, miracles and magic, largely of pre-Buddhist origin but blending seamlessly with Buddhist practices and doctrine, for instance, calling on the presence or actions of monks to work invisible forces in a more favorable direction. This trails into Folk Buddhism, which is clearly not the exclusive domain of the laity in Burma.

A couple of months ago we held a rite at the Burmese monastery where I live in Texas to appease three angry tree spirits (nats or devas) dwelling here. It seems that in our extended community, which apparently extends to relatives in Burma and in Houston of people living here, there had been three mishaps in one week, Someone was even grazed in the head and critically injured by an out of control, in fact airborne, race car. We had in the months before this fateful week been constructing many new buildings, particularly meditation cottages, which we had always tried to locate in the spaces between standing trees. Occasionally we had had to cut a tree down of one of the two kinds of common trees on our property, favoring an oak to a cedar when one or the other was to be spared. Nonetheless we had had to cut down exactly three oak trees.

One morning the abbot announced to me the necessity of performing this rite. The monks would visit each of the three crime scenes, we would chant the Metta Sutta (Loving Kindness Discourse) then the abbot would speak to the offended spirit to ask forgiveness. This was up until then outside of the realm of my familiarity, so something like the following exchange ensued.

“We have cut down several cedar trees as well. How do we know that devas weren’t living in those trees as well?”

“They only live in oak trees.”

“There aren’t any oak or cedar trees in Burma, how do you know which trees they live in in America?”

“They like oak trees.”

“OK. Are you going to speak to them in Burmese? These are Texan devas. They are more likely to understand English … or Spanish.” (They are also likely to have names like “Clem” or “Dusty.”)

“I think devas can understand any language, but just in case I will speak to them in Burmese and then you speak to them in English!”

And so it was, three little ceremonies in turn with my full participation. It was kinda fun I have to admit.

The Buddha once sneezed. I’ve been looking for the source of this story; I believe it is in the Vinaya.

A nearby monk said, “Bless you!” Apparently this was also the custom in the Buddha’s time and place.

The Buddha asked, “Wait a minute. Do you think that saying that will have an effect on my future health?” He had after all in his teachings replaced the idea of appropriate rites and rituals as a determinant of future well-being with the idea of purity of intention in one’s own actions, the Buddhist meaning of “karma.”

The monk replied, “Well, no, actually.”

“Then don’t say it!”

And thereby a new rule was put into circulation that monks were expected to follow. The problem was that lay people began to complain about how rude all the monks had suddenly become.”

“I sneezed and there was a monk standing right there and he didn’t even bless me!”

“How rude! The impudent cad”

When this was reported back to the Buddha the Buddha rescinded the rule that he had established.

“People need monks to say ‘Bless you’ to them.”

This little story is indicative of the Buddha’s tolerance and willingness to adapt to common cultural preferences. Except where a particular practice flies in the face of Essential Buddhism as I understand it, I personally try to follow his example.

Much of Burmese Folk Buddhist practice and understanding is only about one step removed from Essential Buddhism. We mentioned in an earlier episode the importance of the Triple Gem, refuge in the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha, as a bridge between Essential and Folk Buddhism and common to both. I described the function of the Triple Gem in terms of deference to the experts, but in every Buddhist culture I am aware of it takes on layers of meaning. The Burmese express their relationship to these with particular exuberance.

The Buddha authorized in the Parinibbana Sutta the practice of honoring him after his death through pilgrimage to the places of his birth, awakening, first teaching and death. He probably did not anticipate the devotion and reverence his disciples would slather on every reminder of him. Chief among these, and prior to Buddha statues, were his relics, the bits of bone, teeth, sometimes hair, that survived his cremation. The Burmese also honor the relics of arahants, which generally take on the form of crystals, and which reproduce like bunnies, that is, left overnight the next morning they will have increased in number and mass. A museum has been built in a temple in Burma where a local arahant had lived and died. Pictures in the museum reveal he had very intensive eyes, which died and was cremated, did not burn but were found among the relics! Moreover, the concrete ground floor one story below the bed in which he died has continually cracked and burst open since its last occupancy.

Relics are often said to have special powers. Kyaik Tiyo, the golden rock (actually gold-leaf enhanced with a little pagoda on top), is a huge boulder, maybe 40 or 50 feet in diameter, perched on top of a sheer cliff, at the very top of a tall mountain, in such a way that it has been just about to roll off for maybe the last several hundred thousand years or so. Inspection of this amazing site from below invites one to try to pass a string, an accomplice holding the other end, under the rock all the way across; it looks like it would work, maybe by rocking the rock a bit. From higher up, one can see that its center of gravity does keep it from rolling off the cliff, but golly it seems that by now an earthquake or a clumsy dinosaur sometime in the last innumerable millennia would have toppled it. It is certainly a wonder of nature.

In Myanmar all such phenomena are miracles that have to do with Buddhism. The story is that some of the Buddha’s hairs are contained inside of the rock and that the rock remains in place by the power of the Buddha. Once upon a time, some non-Buddhists tried to push the rock off the cliff in order to undermine people’s faith in the Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha, but they were turned into monkeys. That’ll show them! In an inspiring, hopefully not foolhardy, display of faith, there is now a nunnery directly below the rock, exactly at the point of first bounce.

The reverence for relics and the attribution to them of special powers seems to be universal throughout Buddhist Asia. A particular expression of this is the pagoda, originally representing a burial mound for the Buddha’s relics but now takes on wildly varying forms. The Burmese are particularly fond of pagodas, which there follow a squat earth design common also in India and suggestive of their original function. Burma is known as the Land of Pagodas; they must consume a large part of the small national income. A 70′ pagoda is currently under construction here in Texas substantially supported through donations from Burma.

A common observance in Burma and perhaps in all Buddhist countries of Asia is the ritual offering to a Buddha statue, of food, water, flowers, incense and light. In Burma it is generally understood that the Buddha is no longer able to receive those offerings. Rather the offering is made as a kind of enactment in which the offerer’s wholesome qualities are developed. The view however seems to be widespread that some kind of unseen power adheres to Buddha statues and other representations of the Buddha once these have been properly consecrated ceremonially by monks.

The Dhamma is most commonly represented by recitation and by listening to Dhamma talks. Great value is placed in the ability to memorize the scriptures and enormous veneration of what are known as Tipitaka Monks, those who pass a state examination that exhibits rote knowledge of the scriptures, including memorization of at least two of the three baskets and a substantial part of the third, roughly twenty volumes. Only eight monks have passed this examination since it was instituted sixty-four years ago. Monasteries in Burma often have enhanced loudspeaker systems to broadcast recitations to the world. Many undertake once a year to recite the Pathana, a long chapter of the Abhidhamma Pitaka, which takes several days and nights and is done in shifts. Where I once lived in central Burma a neighboring nuns’ monastery undertook to broadcast such a recitation day and night. I strongly suspect the nun in charge of setting the volume control had once belonged to a heavy metal band. Burmese often report the occurrence of miraculous phenomena during such recitations, for instance, water offerings to the Buddha will begin to boil. Burmese recite (chant) together typically with great energy.

The Sangha is represented by the monastic community, upon whom great reverence is bestowed and who are doted upon much as house pets. Traditionally in Burmese culture one is expected to show special respect for four categories of people: (1) monastics, (2) parents, (3) teachers and (4) the elderly. This respect finds its most visible expression in full prostrations, generally in groups of three, representing the Buddha, the Dhamma and the Sangha. A rite of passage for boys is to ordain as novice monks for short period, sometimes for a week, sometimes at the age of seven or eight, but generally as teenagers, having their heads shaved, wearing the traditional robes and taking the precepts. One of the moving aspects of the ceremony is that once immediately following the ordination the parents will perform full bows to their sons, reversing the order that had obtained until that time. Burmese will generally try to sit at a lower level than monks, for instance offering the monks chairs then sitting on the floor themselves.

Often magical powers are attributed to senior monks of great attainment. The presence of monks is commonly regarded as good luck and making offerings to monks, particularly offering a meal to monks, is karmically meritorious. This is often done on auspicious occasions such as weddings and birthdays, as well as periods of misfortune when people feel they need a karmic boost. A Burmese doctor in Austin, a specialist in sleeping disorders, was pleased to be able to offer her services for free to a visiting Burmese monk who suffered from sleep apnea, which required that he stay overnight in a specially outfitted room hooked up to various machines. She was particularly pleased with the auspiciousness that he was the inaugural patient of a new room they had just added to their lab. A frequent visitor to our monastery, who like to come on weekends to prepare food for the monks, was up late one night and spotted a monk standing in the air above one of the new buildings near where the new pagoda was beginning construction. She called to other people who indeed verified the presence of this monk in the sky, only now he was meditating. It was generally assumed that this monk had teletransported from Burma. A couple of weeks later I heard the story retold such that the monk in question had become our own founder, Sitagu Sayadaw.

Next week I will continue to discuss Burmese Folk Buddhism with a focus on how generosity, merit and the object of Buddhist practice are understood in the popular culture. Then I will look at the influence of Essential Buddhism on the popular practice and understanding.