Asian Religions, page 19
1 things (material objects/wealth);
2 sensations (especially sexual);
3 ideas/opinions/thoughts;
4 traditions/conventions/habits/lifestyles;
5 self/ego/I (especially as a permanent entity).
If I can, deliberately and progressively, lessen my desires and my attachments to these things and qualities, I will find that suffering is lessened as well: both my own suffering and the suffering of others.
Let's look briefly at each of these objects of desire and attachment. The list progresses from the most concrete and material to the most abstract and spiritual or psychological, and thus from the desires that are easiest to overcome to the desires that are the most difficult to overcome.
1 Things (material objects/wealth) Buddhism teaches that the attachment to “things” and the desire for more “things” is a fundamental cause of suffering in the world. The most basic characteristic of monastic life is material simplicity. Traditionally, monks and nuns do not own anything but the so-called “six possessions”: a begging bowl, a razor for shaving the head, a pair of homespun robes, a pair of sandals, a needle, and a strainer (to remove impurities from drinking water and to avoid causing injury to any insects that might be living there). Today most monks and nuns have personal possessions that they have brought from home. However, the principle remains the same as it has always been: the monastery will provide the basic necessities of food and shelter and will allow the monk or nun to cultivate a religious life through the practice of the “middle way” between the extremes of self-indulgence and self-denial. The monastery is a refuge from the rat race of the working world, where I “live to work,” conditioned by the world to want the newest gadgets, a bigger house, a higher salary, a more pleasing appearance, and the highest status that money can bring. Consumerism is competitive, insatiable, and ecologically irresponsible.
2 Sensations (especially sexual) The second most obvious characteristic of monastic life is celibacy. We will survey this practice more thoroughly in Chapter 23, but for now we can simply observe that sexual sensations are a primary source of suffering. This is an odd statement, especially since sex is usually associated with pleasure. In fact, for most people, the very word “pleasure” has sexual connotations. But, just as all pleasures cause pain, so too – and so especially – do sexual pleasures. Whatever pleasure sex may bring, I can guarantee that there is no reader of this book who has not suffered because of sexual attachment and desire. However pleasurable it may be, sex also produces pain, frustration, yearning, loss, loneliness, and disappointment. Of course, sex is not simply an act, it is also a mindset: we long for physical and emotional contact and we often go to great lengths to get it, only to be frustrated when we cannot or disappointed when we can. Desire for sex is not only obsessive, but it is also ultimately unfulfilling.
3 Ideas/opinions/thoughts “Attachment to ideas” is another deep fixation. In fact, we are so attached to our ideas that we claim to own them, to have a “right” to them. We feel challenged and upset if our ideas are not accepted by others, and arguments about ideas – opinions, statements about feelings, beliefs about the way things “should be” – can be socially divisive and even violent. In the Buddhist tradition the practice associated with this “craving” is meditation: Buddhist meditation does not entail a trance-like, deadened mind in which ideas are eliminated, but rather a calm, non-discriminating mind in which ideas are simply observed and then released. Buddhists try not to dwell on ideas but to let them come to mind and then be freed, like flotsam floating on a stream.
4 Traditions/conventions/habits/lifestyles The Buddha is said to have predicted that, like all things, even his teachings would one day pass away and be forgotten. And he taught further that attachment to his teachings, like all attachments, could be a cause of suffering. Perhaps he meant that “religion” (whether or not he thought of the dharma as “religion”) can be an object of attachment if its followers are too doctrinaire, exclusivistic, or intolerant of others. Insofar as a religion is not simply a set of ideas or beliefs, but a kind of lifestyle – a moral, behavioral, social, and institutional system – it is certainly true that people can cling to religion in a way that is potentially damaging to themselves and to others. Many of us are guilty of cultural chauvinism: the “other” lives strangely, is ill-mannered, eats strange foods, practices barbarian rites, and cannot speak our language or adapt to our ways. Even in a world that has become globalized to an extent that the Buddha never could have imagined, cultural bias and religious exclusivism create suffering in the form of prejudice, ostracism, and war.
5 Self/ego/I (especially as a permanent entity) The fifth and most difficult of the objects of attachment to overcome is the attachment to the very idea of the self. Self-absorption in the form of an enlarged ego, an inability to see the world as others see it, self-protection, and self-indulgence, is, in the Buddhist tradition, a physical, mental, and psychological condition that goes to the heart of suffering in all its aspects. In fact my idea of myself is so grand that I cannot help but want to live forever, to be a permanent and unchanging being. But, as we will see in Chapter 22, there is nothing in the world that is permanent and unchanging, so this kind of attachment is especially fruitless and frustrating. This may be the most radical teaching of the Buddha, and what sets Buddhism apart from all the great religions of the world. As the great Buddhological scholar Edward Conze wrote:
The doctrine of the Buddha, conceived in its full breadth, width, majesty and grandeur, comprises all those teachings which are linked to the original teaching by historical continuity, and which work out methods leading to the extinction of individuality by eliminating the belief in it.2
This elegantly phrased statement can be summarized in one word: anattā, “no Ātman,” the Buddha's teaching of non-attachment with regard to an undying and unchanging self. We will explore the ramifications of this teaching and its application to the Buddhist idea of enlightenment in Chapter 22.
Notes
1 “Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta: Setting the Wheel of Dhamma in Motion” (SN 56.11), translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu. Access to Insight, February 12, 2012. At http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/sn/sn56/sn56.011.than.html (accessed April15, 2012).
2 Edward Conze, Buddhism: Its Essence and Development (New York: Dover Books, 2004), p. 28. (Original publication 1951.)
21
Buddhist Ethics
The first two of the Four Noble Truths, as spoken by the Buddha in his first sermon after attaining enlightenment and as recorded in The Sūtra Setting in Motion the Wheel of the Dharma (Dharmacakra-pravartana sūtra), describe the true nature of life – the ubiquity of dukha – and the causes of dukha: desire and attachment. The third and fourth of the Four Noble Truths affirm that suffering can be overcome, and they explain how. Like a physician, the Buddha prescribes a cure to suffering, namely the holy Eightfold Path.
The Eightfold Path
The Eightfold Path can be summarized as follows:
A Wisdom (prajñā): 1 right views: acceptance of the Four Noble Truths and of “things as they are”;
2 right intention: thoughts of compassion for others, non-violence, and selfless detachment.
B Ethical conduct (śila): 3 right speaking: abstaining from the “four vocal wrong deeds” (lies, slander, abuse, gossip);
4 right action: abstaining from the “three bodily wrong deeds” (killing, stealing, and sexual misconduct);
5 right livelihood: avoiding any occupation that does harm to another living thing.
C Mental discipline (samadhi): 6 right effort: avoiding “unwholesome states of mind”; mental preparation;
7 right mindfulness: developing self-conscious meditative awareness of the body, sensations, and thoughts;
8 right concentration: “pure equanimity” of mind, detached from the illusion of self.
The notion of a “path” is slightly misleading, in that the word suggests a sequence of steps or stages. Rather the holy Eightfold Path is a simultaneous practice with eight aspects, all of which mutually inform and inspire one another. This is the reason why the path, the dharma, and the Buddhist tradition itself are conventionally represented by a wheel with eight spokes (see Figure 21.1).
Figure 21.1 The wheel of the dharma (dharma-cakra). © Momo5287 / Shutterstock.
The two aspects listed first (right views and right intention), which encapsulate the wisdom (prajñā) of the Buddha's teachings, are both the foundation and the fruit of Buddhist practice. Buddhist practice, incorporating ethical conduct (śila) and mental discipline or meditation (samadhi), is certainly based upon the teachings of the tradition – that is its foundation; but it also yields a deeper awareness of life and an alleviation of suffering in oneself and in others – which are its fruits. As one engages in ethical conduct and the practice of meditation, one deepens one's wisdom and compassion. Thus the path comes full circle.
In this chapter we will examine the first of these two pillars of Buddhist practice: ethical conduct. In Chapter 22 we will turn to the practice of meditation and its fruit, Buddhist enlightenment.
Ethical Practice
The three dimensions of ethical practice (śila) listed in the Eightfold Path are “right speaking, right action, and right livelihood.” These are non-harmful behaviors and, of course, by eliminating “harm” they reduce suffering.
The ethical dimension of Buddhism is considered by most Asian Buddhists to be its most important element. Traditionally meditation was a practice limited to monasteries, although, as we will note in Chapter 26, there is now greater interest in meditation among lay Buddhists around the world. Ethical conduct, by contrast, is fundamental, and for most Asian Buddhists – who live the “householder's” life, working and raising families and only visiting monasteries on special occasions such as the birthday celebrations of the Buddha, temple festivals, funerals, and rituals for deceased ancestors – to be “Buddhist” means to live a moral life to the extent that one can do so. In Asia, recognizing another person as a Buddhist does not relate to some abstract “pursuit of enlightenment,” but rather to an ethically disciplined life, something like what we might call being “socially conservative” with regard to one's moral commitments and behaviors.1
Though monasticism is highly regarded, especially in Southeast Asia, most Buddhists will never be ordained as a monk or nun. Their goal is to integrate their religious commitments with everyday life, in the context of work, family life, relationships, and community.2 In Thailand and other Asian countries religious commitment is expressed on a daily basis, in the recitation of the Five Precepts (pañca-śila) of ethical practice, both by monastics and by laypersons.
1 I resolve to avoid harming sentient beings.
2 I resolve to avoid taking that which is not freely given.
3 I resolve to avoid sexual misconduct.
4 I resolve to avoid harmful speech.
5 I resolve to avoid intoxicants.
Before examining each of the five precepts and how they are put into practice in Buddhism, notice two characteristics that all of the precepts have in common. First, they each begin with the words “I resolve.” They are self-directed, and ultimately the Buddhist practitioner is responsible for his or her own behavior. As ethical practice, this differs in form from the Ten Commandments of the Judeo-Christian tradition, which begin with the words “Thou shalt not.” The Ten Commandments are part of the “Covenant with Israel,” that is, a kind of contract between the God of Abraham and His followers; in return for their obedience, God promises to guide and protect them. The Buddhist Five Precepts are self-motivated and, although “taught by the Buddha,” they are not viewed in terms of obedience and sin.
Second, the precepts are phrased as vows to “avoid” certain behaviors. Again, if we think of the Ten Commandments as prohibitions invested with the force of a contractual relationship, the word “avoid” suggests a grey area between success and failure. In other words, I can “resolve to avoid” an action even though I may not be able to excise it completely from my everyday life. Even if I do not intentionally hurt others, my every pleasure comes at the expense of another being’s pain. Still, I can make every effort to reduce the suffering I cause, and hence a commitment to the Five Precepts is still a worthy and noble undertaking. The Vietnamese Buddhist monk and author Thich Nhat Hanh suggests that the sincere person should think of ethical practice like following the North Star: one can set a course and move in a positive direction even if one cannot actually “reach” the destination, or attain “perfect” virtue. The idea here is to reduce the harm that one causes to others: Thich Nhat Hanh makes the point that even an army general can practice the first precept, if he makes a sincere effort to reduce the suffering of his enemy – though ideally, of course, he should reject the “wrong livelihood” of killing altogether.
The application of the Five Precepts is both self-directed and incremental, as opposed to the other-directed and oppositional phrasing of the Ten Commandments. What does this mean in practice? We can look at examples of how the Five Precepts are applied in the Buddhist tradition.
The vow to avoid harming sentient beings
What is a “sentient being”? “Sentience” could refer to “the ability to think”; but, for the tradition as a whole, “sentience” has meant the capacity to feel, or physical sensation. Obviously people are sentient beings by both definitions, but more broadly animals, large and small, regardless of their relative intelligence, as well as insects and other creatures having a central nervous system are all capable of feeling pain.
In the Buddhist tradition there is a broad continuum of practice related to the goal of non-injury. In Chinese Buddhism, this practice takes the form of vegetarianism: monasteries do not serve meat, and many lay Buddhists practice vegetarianism as the primary outward sign of their faith. (In Chinese, to say that one “eats vegetables” – chi su (吃素) – is a kind of shorthand for saying that one is a Buddhist.) In Japan, by contrast, even monastics eat meat: according to tradition, a debate was held in the ninth century about the sentience of trees and, by extension, of plants in general. The decision was reached that “even a tree has Buddha-nature,” that is, even a tree has the capacity for enlightenment and for ending suffering. Since people must eat, there is little point in distinguishing between one sentient being and another, so Japanese monks eat meat. Tibetan Buddhists eat some kinds of meat but not others: since it is better to kill one animal rather than many, it is preferable to eat beef over fish. One cow can feed a great many monks. In Theravāda Buddhist countries, a monk is permitted to eat meat as long as the animal was not killed especially for him.
Buddhists have been inspired in recent years to apply the first precept quite broadly. Buddhist organizations are involved in anti-war movements and in protest against colonialist occupations – both Vietnamese monks in the 1960s and Tibetan monks in the 2010s have practiced self-immolation, a traditional form of Buddhist monastic protest. They also participate in environmentalist and animal protection movements, in volunteerism and the establishment of social services (from major hospitals in Taiwan and Japan to safe houses for child prostitutes in Thailand), and in other forms of peace making, compassionate interventions, and disaster relief.
The vow to avoid taking that which is not freely given
In lay society, “not taking that which is not freely given” means taking only things that one has either earned or paid for – that is, not stealing. But, on a more strict interpretation, even paying for something is coercive: the merchant will not give up his goods unless he is paid. As a result, the monastic application of this precept is the traditional begging round of Buddhist monks, which is still practiced daily in some countries and on holidays in others. The word “beg” is unhelpful if we wish to understand the practice, because the monks do not beg in an aggressive way and never approach the householders who provide them with food. They do not solicit contributions. Rather the monks walk down the street at a slow pace and simply receive what is offered by the householders who come out to greet them. Traditionally, in observance of this precept, monks do not handle money.
Since most of us participate in commercial activities on a daily basis, should we be content simply not to rob or steal? Or does this precept inspire more thoughtful forms of consumption? In the modern world, some Buddhists have taken this precept to mean that one should be mindful of one's use of money and should work for economic justice. Just paying for something does not absolve me of the responsibility related to how it was produced; this includes the working and living conditions of the laborers who assembled it, transported, and sold it. To the extent that the goal of Buddhist practice is to reduce suffering in all of its forms, modern-day Buddhists promote awareness of the potential suffering caused by conspicuous consumption. In addition, the Buddha's directive to practice the “middle way,” neither wallowing in poverty nor indulging in wealth, corresponds to a lifestyle that is ultimately more sustainable – both for the individual and for the planet.
