Asian Religions, page 21
Perhaps the most fully developed expression of Mahāyāna belief and practice can be found in Zen Buddhism, which arose in China in the seventh and eighth centuries ce and then spread to Korea, Japan, and Vietnam. Zen takes the theory of emptiness and puts it into practice. Zen elaborates upon Madhyamaka philosophy in its practice of ippitsu-no-Zen (一筆の禪, as expressed in Japanese – literally “one-stroke” or “one-pointed” Zen), “doing one thing at a time” – that is, finding enlightenment in the course of everyday life. Chapter 25 contains a separate discussion of Zen.
The Third Turning of the dharma wheel is a further elaboration on emptiness – paradoxically, as the fullness of consciousness. If emptiness means “lacking independence,” then all things, including all “minds” or “mental formulations,” are interdependent. This web of interdependent minds is the tathāgata-garbha, the “womb of suchness,” a womb generating the cosmos. As part of this interconnected web, each of us participates in the mental projection of all things, expressing in our own mind the “storehouse consciousness” of enlightenment. This projection penetrates the cosmos like a thunderbolt; and the name of this school is Vajrayāna, “the Vehicle of the Thunderbolt.” A further extension of Madhyamaka philosophy, Vajrayāna thought arose about 1,000 years after the time of the Buddha and is today associated with Tibetan Buddhism, Chinese Esoteric Buddhism, and the Shingon school in Japan. Teaching that all existence is a projection of the universal mind, the philosophical position of Vajrayāna Buddhism is Yogācāra, “consciousness only” or “mind only” – not the individual mind of one person (not solipsism or idealism, to use Western philosophical terms), but the collective mind of all beings. This mind is pure and sparkling, like gold or a diamond, and reality is affirmed for its “suchness” rather than being dismissed for its “emptiness.” Thus Vajrayāna meditation consists of complex, layered mental images or “visualizations,” often employing a circle or sphere (a maala) in which numerous Buddhas and other enlightened beings appear. The universe is a rich, stunning, and wondrous realm of saviors and spiritual companions, and we too are god-like enlightened beings participating in the creation and elaboration of this marvelous cosmos.
Meditation Practices and Experience of nirvāa
It is not difficult to understand the Buddhist teaching of interdependence from an intellectual point of view. Today “non-essentialism” – the idea that things have no fixed, permanent, hidden, and isolated core – is a basic assumption of postmodern thought, and it is even more widely accepted in popular culture. In our modern world of constant and accelerating change – where peoples from all over the world interact with one another on a daily basis, where innumerable forms of media and communication shape our thoughts and perceptions, where the very idea of “I” has become protean and multifaceted – these centuries-old Buddhist conceptions seem remarkably contemporary.
But it is one thing to understand Buddhist “emptiness” intellectually, and quite another to internalize this understanding through personal experience, as described in Buddhist meditation and visualization practices. The experiential encounter with the universe as an interconnected web of existence is the heart of Buddhist enlightenment. It generates both compassion for all beings and a sense of personal identity that is cosmically embedded.
Notes
1 Adapted from the Majjhima Nikaya. For a full translation of the sutra, see Cula-Malunkyovada Sutta: The Shorter Instructions to Malunkya, translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu. At http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/mn/mn.063.than.html (accessed July 25, 2013).
2 The organization of the discussion that follows is based upon Roger Corless, The Vision of Buddhism: The Space under the Tree (New York: Paragon House, 1998).
23
Monastic Practice
Life in the monastery should be ethically pure and spiritually focused. The simple lifestyle of monks and nuns, where all basic needs are met, is less harmful to self and others than the life of a householder, whose every moment of waking life is dedicated to the satisfaction of wants and needs in a noisy, competitive environment. In the monastery one need not be concerned with money, with keeping up appearances, with being attractive to the opposite sex, or with outperforming one's enemies in the commercial, political, or military battlefields of worldly existence. Instead, one can dedicate one's life to cultivating awareness through meditation and to overcoming suffering through service and ethical living.
Despite how austere it may appear to lay persons – especially in our modern world of affluence and material comforts – the monastic life is not ascetic. It is not a life of material deprivation, but rather of material simplicity. Monks and nuns are adequately clothed and adequately fed, and their monastic quarters are solidly built, clean, and comfortable. Moreover, the rules of the monastery are so detailed and comprehensive that one need not be burdened with the petty concerns of lay life: what to buy at the grocery store, how and when to pay the bills, what to wear and how to wear it, keeping up with news or gossip, affording the newest gadgets, balancing rest and exercise, even deciding when to wake and when to sleep. Having all of these things already decided for oneself, and therefore outside one's control, is tremendously liberating, and all kinds of time and mental energy are released for the pursuit of more fulfilling and more interesting work: the work of spiritual self-cultivation.
Unlike in the tradition of the Hindu sannyasin (renunciant), Buddhist monastic practice is not confined to the late stages of an individual's life in solitary pursuit of transcendent goals. Rather it is a career recommended to all (even if not suitable for all), begun, ideally, in youth. In some Buddhist countries young men are initiated as novices for a short period – perhaps a year or two – before undertaking military service and entering a commercial profession; but in most Buddhist countries one takes the monastic vows for an indefinite period. With rare exceptions – such as the yamabushi (山伏) tradition of solo practice in Japan, or the forest or “rhinocerous” monks of Southeast Asia – monastic life is thoroughly communal, and the monastery resembles a religiously based university no less than a center of ritual practice. Quite apart from whether the “grand goals” of liberation or enlightenment are reached, life in the monastery is intrinsically rewarding. Monastics enjoy a disciplined life of worship and study, enhanced by ritual performance, by teaching and community service, and by a healthy balance of work and leisure, in a peaceful setting. Far from being places of deprivation or austerity, monasteries are healthful, ecological, and often beautiful. They are also repositories of cultural and aesthetic traditions, with libraries of rare books and manuscripts, magnificent creations of artistic and architectural grandeur, peaceful parks and gardens, protected areas for rare plants and animals, and thoughtfully designed centers of worship and repose. It is no wonder that many lay persons idealize the monastic life and that Buddhist monasteries in Southeast Asia, China, Korea, and Japan are major sites of tourism and cultural preservation.
Lay persons participate significantly in the life of the monastery. Primarily they support it through financial contributions, and the relationship between monastics and lay persons is a symbiotic one. Lay persons are also welcome to worship in the monastery temples, they have funerary rites performed for loved ones there, and (in some monasteries) they are invited to go into retreat for extended periods of practice. Many monasteries also support lay initiation, where individuals are able to declare modified vows and work closely with the ordained monks and nuns. This option is often taken by women who have passed child-bearing age and are seeking an environment for religious practice in their later years. In other words, the divide between monastics and lay persons, especially in Mahāyāna Buddhist countries, is not as sharp as it might appear.
Nor do monks isolate themselves from lay society, especially in the modern era. They not only conduct funerary rites (both within the temple and in their patrons' homes), but also give “dharma talks” in the community, operate medical clinics, and participate actively in social and political movements. Since 2000, monks in Tibet, Burma, Thailand, and Sri Lanka have been especially visible, putting their lives on the line in support of peace work, liberation movements, and social and economic justice (see Figure 23.1).
Figure 23.1 Burmese monks protesting against the military government crackdown of 2007, Rangoon. © Mizzima News / epa /Corbis.
The Vinaya
Life in the monastery is governed by the Monastic Code, the Vinaya. With its greater emphasis on practice over doctrine, the Buddhist tradition in fact places the Vinaya ahead of the sūtras and the commentaries in the “three baskets” (Tripiaka) of the Buddhist Canon. This is consistent with the Buddha's own teaching that one's own experience, through practice, has greater meaning and importance than strict adherence to his words.
Depending on which version of the Monastic Code one reads – each of the major Buddhist traditions has adapted the code to local conditions – there are well over 300 rules addressing institutional organization and personal comportment. Hierarchy is emphasized, and rules of subordination and service are applied to younger members of the community.
Pārājika
Only four rule violations are so serious that they would result in expulsion from the monastery. These are called pārājika, “defeat”:
If any monk who has taken upon himself the monks' system of self-training and rule of life has sexual intercourse with anyone, down even to an animal, he shall be expelled.
If any monk takes, from village or forest, anything not given, he shall be expelled.
If any monk knowingly deprives a human being of life or incites another to self-destruction, he shall be expelled.
If any monk, without being clearly aware of possessing extraordinary qualities, pretends that he has gained insight into the teachings of the Buddha, he shall be expelled.
There is nothing very surprising here, as we would expect celibacy and non-injury (avoiding killing or stealing) to be definitive of monastic practice. But what about the fourth rule, the prohibition on “pretending” to be enlightened? Why would this be taken so seriously – and, in any case, how could it ever be substantiated? How would the community know that a monk was “pretending to be enlightened” or “pretending to have become a Buddha”? Functionally, this rule has had two effects. First, it has kept the institution intact and has contributed to the remarkable resilience and conservatism of the tradition: the rule limits schisms by discouraging individuals from claiming a “new” insight or doctrine. Second, it has made individual monastics reluctant ever to claim “enlightenment” at all, for fear of being branded “pretenders” – in other words, it has had a humbling effect on Buddhist practitioners. In fact claims to enlightenment are extraordinarily rare in the history of the tradition. The question “Are you enlightened?” would never be asked of a Buddhist monk or nun, as “Are you saved?” is asked in some Christian contexts.
Sangha-disesa
The second set of rule violations require a “meeting of the community” (sangha-disesa) and a period of penance, usually in isolation from others. Most are elaborations on the first of the four pārājika (prohibiting sexual activity) or on the fourth (prohibiting false claims and sectarian schism). For example, although such activity would not result in expulsion, monks are forbidden from engaging in the following sexual acts:
emitting semen (“except while sleeping”);
intentionally touching a woman's hand, hair, or “any part of her body”;
addressing a woman with lewd or suggestive words;
serving as a romantic go-between for a layman and a laywoman … and so on.
In order to preserve the integrity of the monastic institution, a monk is forbidden from:
constructing a non-approved abode or meditation hut;
making false charges against another monk;
“calling attention” to dissension within the community or taking sides in doctrinal disputes;
“refusing to listen to what is said to him”;
failing to uphold the moral and ethical principles of the tradition, “so that his evil deeds are seen and heard” … and so on.
Rules of comportment
The largest set of rules, numbering in the hundreds, is concerned with the minutiae of everyday life and individual comportment. These rules are remarkably detailed, covering standards of dress, bedtime and waking routines, eating, bathing, using the toilet, and almost every imaginable personal behavior. A small sample gives a sense of the Vinaya's reach:
“Put on the robe correctly.”
“When putting away a robe, take it with one hand, stroke the other hand along the rod or cord [to check for any rough spots or splinters on the cord or rod that will rip the cloth], and place the robe over the cord or rod with the edges away from you and the fold toward you.”
“Do not make noise with your mouth when eating.”
“Do not lick your fingers when eating.”
“Wash your bowl without splashing or scraping.”
“Whoever goes first to the sauna, if ashes have accumulated, that person should throw out the ashes. If the sauna is dirty, sweep it. If the outer corridor … the yard … the porch … the sauna hall is dirty, sweep it.”
“Defecate in order of arrival” (= at the latrine; not in order of seniority).
“Walk in the village without laughing.”
“With one's begging bowl, walk in the middle of the street [without demanding or soliciting alms]” … and so on.1
For my American students, many of these rules seem invasive or petty. But, once they are learned and internalized, they become automatic – and one's attention can be devoted to the immensely more important tasks of religious work.
Female Monasticism and the Treatment of Women in the Vinaya
In the Theravāda countries of Southeast Asia women are permitted only the lay vows; the order of nuns died out centuries ago. Though efforts have been made to restore the order of nuns, the very rules and standards that have preserved the monastic order for two millennia also make it difficult to reestablish a tradition that has been lost. In the Mahāyāna countries, however, the nuns' order remains strong, particularly in Tibet (see Figure 23.2) and in Chinese-speaking communities. Thanks for example to the efforts of an influential abbess – Cheng Yen (證嚴, Zheng Yan, b. 1937), founder of the Buddhist Compassion Relief Foundation (慈濟, ciji) in Taiwan – the Chinese order of nuns has become a model for the world, promoting monastic reforms as well as joint volunteer efforts and social services shared by lay and monastic communities. Buddhist monasticism in the West has also promoted gender equality, and women have been at the forefront of the meteoric rise of Buddhism in America and Europe.
Figure 23.2 Buddhist nun, Tibet. © Dhoxax/ Shutterstock.com.
To be sure, attitudes toward women as expressed in the Monastic Code are conflicted. The very existence of a nuns' order has meant that women as well as men were encouraged to dedicate their lives to religious self-cultivation, the fruits of which were seen in the high educational levels attained by Buddhist nuns throughout the centuries. But monks themselves were taught to “loathe a woman's body,” to regard it as “a sack of blood and pus,” to think of a woman's vagina as “the mouth of a cobra,” to think of attractive women as “snares and nets.” If a man is unfortunate enough to be caught in a woman's net, she will “slice him up and serve his entrails on a platter.” The easiest way to prevent such a fate is to avoid women altogether.2
If a monk sees a beautiful woman and says he does not like her, he is telling a lie. He is still a human being and a human being is an animal that has desires. So in monasteries there are no women to be seen. But if a monk does see a beautiful woman, he can suppress the train of thought that arises, and he can do so by reflecting: “I must not think about her. I am a person who has left lay-life. I want to become a buddha. If I think about her, I will not become a buddha.”3
Clearly the purpose of such language is to inspire non-attachment and to help monks overcome their own sexual desires. Put in the most positive terms, these injunctions are designed to help men with their own spiritual advancement and to encourage them not to regard women as sexual objects. The Buddha taught that there is nothing that intoxicates a man more than the look, touch, sound, smell, and taste of a woman. So, in order to avoid the sexual objectification of women, a monk is encouraged to regard every woman as if she were his own mother, sister, or daughter.
Despite this more positive reading of the treatment of women in the Monastic Code, it goes further still, describing women as especially prone to sexual attachment. The code implies that women are by nature more preoccupied with sex than men. Women are more closely tied to the earth, to reproduction, and to their need for sexual fulfillment. Compared to the monks' code, the rules for nuns are far more numerous and violations have more serious consequences. Instead of four pārājika, for example, there are eight reasons why a nun can be expelled from the order: not just sexual intercourse but any sexual contact, flirtation, or “immodest behavior” with a man – as well as the protection of errant nuns or discipleship under “heretical monks.” Rules governing personal comportment are much more specific in the nuns' code; they prohibit a number of sexual activities described in quite explicit detail, ranging from various methods of masturbation to flirtatious behavior and subtle methods of enhancing one's personal attractiveness.4
My American students are shocked and amused to read about the restrictive rules of the monastic code and about its underlying assumption that women are more “sex-starved” than men. Perhaps the authors of the monks' code were unable to differentiate the problem of desire and attachment from the objects of desire and attachment. It is understandable that monks would be taught to regard objects of desire as undesirable, even “loathesome” (aśubha), whether those objects be material (money, objects of wealth) or sexual (a woman's body). And it may be understandable that women's sexuality, expressed variously in the reproductive functions – pregnancy, birth, lactation, and menstruation – is seen to be more “difficult to overcome” than the parallel reproductive functions in men. Still, the confusion of gender and sexuality is an unfortunate legacy of the Buddhist monastic tradition.
