The Zennist

The fish who saw water

According to the Buddha our human world is conditioned; the absolute world of nirvana is unconditioned.  But there is more to it.  Said again, our conditioned human world is configured Mind while Mind, itself, is an intelligible, dynamic, pure substance which is unborn and unconditioned.  

We might say at this point that as intrinsically shapeless Mind, which has yet no knowledge of itself, we never cease trying to find our true self by chasing after Mind shapes, always ending up fettered by these creations—and suffering.

Putting this into a little story, we are skandha fish (i.e., the Five Aggregates) living and swimming in Mind water.  Everything we see, let us say, is conditioned Mind water including our fish body.  While it is also true that we are intrinsically the Mind water, we don’t yet know it.  This is because we have never seen otherwise than conditioned Mind water.  We believe conditioned things are exactly Mind water (yes, we are really stupid fish).

Then one day a fish named Siddhartha thought the matter over.  He really contemplated the problem (he of course had no real butt so he could not sit on a seaweed zafu).  Finally, Siddhartha caught a brief glimpse of pure Mind water.  He described it as a positive absence—totally devoid of thingy-ness, ripples, vortices, shapes, etc.  Yet this pure Mind water was real and powerful.  It was like an invisible light.  He further realized that not only did it animate his fish body but even his very fishy little thoughts were composed of this super Mind water.  He was amazed!

But then his luck ran out.  When he tried to teach this new insight the other fish thought he was crazy.  They said things like, “What do you mean there is unconditioned pure Water?  We don’t see any.”

And so Siddhartha swam away from these stupid arrogant fish and eventually found some fish who were capable of grasping his teaching.  All, too, saw the pure water and were saved. 

 

Secular Buddhists fudge the Dharma

Generally speaking, Bhikkhu Bodhi’s translation of the Samyutta Nikaya is technically pretty darn good (if you are ordering it order: The Connected Discourses of the Buddha).  I use his translations often on this blog.  At least for me, the transcendent sticks out in Bodhi’s translations, as it should.  Buddhism is not a religion for materialists, or secular Buddhists, although some might disagree who are of the mind that Buddhism must change just like Lady Gaga has replaced Beethoven.

Speaking of secular Buddhists, I came across this passage in Stephen Batchelor’s new book, Confession of a Buddhist Atheist (2010).  Batchelor’s Sutta passage regrettably lacks any citation—but I pretty much know where it came from.  I include the entire paragraph (p. 127) from his book.  Oh, before I forget, all the brackets are mine.

“This Dhamma I have reached,” said Gotama in describing what he discovered that night under the branches of the original tree, 

is deep, hard to see, difficult to awaken to, quiet and excellent, not confine by thought, subtle, sensed by the wise.  But people [pajâ] love their place [âlaya]: they delight and revel in their place.  It is hard for people who love, delight and revel in their place to see this ground [thânam]: this-conditionality, conditioned arising."

For the secular Buddhist, Batchelor’s translation is perfect.  But comparing it with the actual Pali, it sucks.  Bhikkhu Bodhi’s translation is superior.  Period. Without question it is very precise and coherent.  It is from the Brahmayacana Sutta (S. i. 136).

“This Dhamma that I have discovered is deep, hard to see, hard to understand, peaceful and sublime, not within the sphere of reasoning, subtle, to be experienced by the wise.  But this generation [pajâ] delights in adhesion [âlaya], takes delight in adhesion, rejoices in adhesion.  For such a generation this state [thânam] is hard to see, that is, specific conditionality, dependent origination.  And this state too is hard to see, that is, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishment of all acquisitions, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation and Nibbana.”

The reader will note that the two translations follow each other until we get to the word “wise” (pandita), then all hell breaks loose.  Curiously, Batchelor left out this section of the passage:

“And this state too is hard to see, that is, the stilling of all formations, the relinquishment of all acquisitions, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation and Nibbana.”

Maybe he forgot to include this section because it deals with the state of uncomposed reality (keep in mind that nibbana/nirvana is uncomposed and also immortal or amata).  Methinks Batchelor is uncomfortable with the transcendent.  

On the following page Batchelor then tries to make the case that what Gotama hit upon during his great awakening was a ground which is the “contingent, transient, ambiguous, unpredictable, fascinating and terrifying ground called “life” (p. 128).  This, of course, is laughable.  What Gotama awakened to was, “the stilling of all formations, the relinquishment of all acquisitions, the destruction of craving, dispassion, cessation and Nibbana.”

In a word, Gotama hit upon the transcendent ground which is like Kryptonite for a secular Buddhist.  Here are some Kryptonite passages from the Udana (80, 81) which describe nirvana that secular Buddhists probably wish weren’t in the canon.

“Monks, there is that domain where there is neither earth, nor water, nor fire, nor air; neither sphere of the infinitude of space, nor sphere of the infinitude of consciousness, nor sphere of nothingness, nor sphere of neither perception nor non-perception; neither this world, nor the next world, nor sun, nor moon. That state, monks, I call neither coming nor going, neither appearing nor disappearing.  It has no origin, no evolution, no stopping. This, in truth, is the end of suffering.”

and, 

"Monks, there is a not-born, a not-become, a not-made, a not-compounded.  Monks, if that unborn, not-become, not-made, not-compounded were not, there would be apparent no escape from this here that is born, become, made, compounded.  But since, monks, there is an unborn ... therefore the escape from this here is born, become ... is apparent."  

For the secular Buddhist who draws much of their Buddhism from the teats of dumbed down Buddhism, including shabby and incomplete translations, I know it may come as a shock to hear these words, but ya really need to do less zazen and study a lot more.  

(Dudes, I am saying this to help you especially to save you from making some seriously bad karma—oops, I forgot, you don’t believe in karma.)

 

Tearing down Buddhism

Pop Buddhism seems to be turning into what I shall term “Kalama Buddhism” named after the famous Kalama Sutta (AN 3.65, A. i. 188) found in the Pali canon.  This is the Sutta secular/agnostic Buddhists hold dear, part of this Sutta being found on page one of StephenBatchelor’s book, Buddhism Without Beliefs (1997).  Here is Batchelor’s selected passage from the Sutta.

“Do not be satisfied with hearsay or with tradition or with legendary lore or with what has come down in scriptures or with conjecture or with logical inference or with weighing evidence or with liking for a view after pondering over it or with some else’s ability or with the thought “The monk is our teacher.”  When you know in yourselves:  “These things are wholesome, blameless, commended by the wise, and being adopted and put into effect they lead to welfare and happiness,” then you should practice and abide in them.”

The translation is smooth and correct.  Where lies the problem for Buddhists who hold on to this Sutta is with the context.  In a nutshell, the Kalama Sutta is being given by the Buddha to people not yet Buddhists who are confused by a welter of religious doctrines.  This is also to say that the Kalamas of Kesaputta had no way of telling the true doctrine from the false ones.  So the Buddha helped them out with some good advice.

The more pressing problem which Kalama Buddhism poses for Buddhism, in general, which I shall address, is that Batchelor’s selected passage now serves as the ground for a new Buddhism vs. an old Buddhism full of mumbo-jumbo in the example of karma and rebirth!  This further means that any Buddhist is free to take up the parts of Buddhism they like while disregarding parts of it they don’t like or understand.  I should mention at this point, Stephen Batchelor’s Buddhism is a stripped down model primarily based on the Kalama Sutta.

What we need to keep in mind about the Kalama Sutta is that for anyone who might follow the Buddha’s advice, this doesn’t make them a noble disciple (ariyasavaka), a Bodhisattva or an Arhat.  In the case of the Kalamas of Kesaputta, we learn at the end of this Sutta that they became lay Buddhists.  This certainly implies that they were also puthujjanas, that is common-run-of-the-mill followers.  They were not automatically stream entered, holy persons (ariyapuggala) or on the path to nirvana.  A way to conceive this is to imagine that you’ve entered a good high school.  This means that you have not graduated from a university, nor do you have a PhD in philosophy!  

Granting Kalama Buddhism its right to exist, it is more like high school Buddhism, its followers being incapable of grasping what it really takes to become, for example, a real noble disciple, a Bodhisattva or a real Arhat.  But then this is not what Kalama Buddhism is really about in my estimation.  It is really about tearing down the Buddhism of noble disciples, Bodhisattvas, and Arhats until there is only Kalama Buddhism left. 

 

Not deprecating our self

It goes almost without saying that the Five Aggregates throughout the Pali canon are deprecated, that is, they are treated as spiritually inferior to the self.  Of course, this is too much for the modern Buddhists to bear or understand despite the ironclad fact that the aggregates are equated with impermanence, suffering and even Mara the evil one.  

Rather than face an uphill battle by contending that the Buddha, instead, deprecated and denied the self, modern Buddhists find it much easier to revise Buddhism putting forth the theory that the Buddha taught against Brahmanism’s Atman which, by the way, is an amazing piece of revisionism.  As evidence for this, in his book, Zen Keys, Thich Nhat Hanh writes:

“From the intellectual standpoint, it [Buddhism] rigorously rejected the concept of I (Atma), which is the very heart of Brahmanism” (p. 33).  (Brackets are mine.)

First, let me say that there is no discourse in the Pali canon where we find the Buddha debating with a Brahmin over the theory of Atman, rejecting it.  Actually, what the Buddha consistently and rigorously rejected was adherence to the belief that our self is one of the Five Aggregates.  Switching gears, I would go so far as to say that no meditational rewards are possible if the Buddhist adept does not make a clear distinction between the aggregate (skandha) and self (atma)—they are spiritually separate and distinct as night and day.

So what is the Buddha’s reason for teaching that our self is not aggregated such that we should reject the Five Aggregates?  To put it in gnostic terms, the Five Aggregates are matter and we are spirit—one is finite the other is not.  However, if we blindly adhere to matter, becoming entangled with it, we shall only come to experience great suffering with no end in sight.  This is samsara.  Not even death provides a way out as we might wish, but it is simply a change of state from one aggregate formation to another.

The Buddha in his great wisdom realized that the Five Aggregates are suffering, and we, as spirit (sattva) suffer because we willfully attach to these suffering, discordant aggregates.  If we did not attach to them finding, instead, that which is aggregate-free, this would put an end to our suffering including our rebirth into still more states of suffering.  This perhaps explains why the Buddha cautioned us not to regard an aggregate as our self—it would cause us to suffer. 

 

In the land of self-imposed ignorance

Under the bewitching power of ignorance we always tend to look here rather than there or the same, focus on the wrong things.  Our ignorance is often lead by our habits:  habits we believe to be authoritative when in fact they are assumptions which often have no real basis.

We don't want to admit it, but most of us are terribly ignorant about almost everything.  The fact is, we cannot study everything so as to become consummate experts.  We cannot be all at once an expert carpenter, automobile mechanic, physician, economist, and educator.  Often, we have to rely on experts.  But then how do we know our experts are all that reliable?  We really don't.  We just assume they are experts and leave it at that.  

In all of this, what we don't want to recognize is our own laziness when it comes to getting ourselves out of the morass of our self-imposed ignorance.  We would rather argue fallaciously the rest of our lives, defending our turf of ignorance, than change our nescient opinions.  It is almost as if we are saying, "I wish not to be informed of the facts."

On the subject of modern Buddhism, the average Buddhist who attends their Dharma or Zen center has full confidence and faith in their teachers.  But are their teachers really experts?  What do they actually know about the Pali canon or the Mahayana canon?  Are their teachings even in line with the canon?  How close to the original discourses of the Buddha, for example, are the teachings of Stephen Batchelor who wrote the book, Buddhism Without Beliefs?  Why should his interpretation of Buddhism be believed which is laden with modern prejudices even going so far as to suggest that Buddhism is a form of agnosticism?

When Bernie Glassman who is a Zen master and founder of Zen Peacemakers, writes in The Huffington Post (February 17, 2011 10:10 p.m.) that the emptiness of the five skandhas in the Heart Sutra means emptiness as "the oneness of life, which means life as it is, without any distinctions," how do we know he is correct in saying this?  Commentarial literature specific to this Sutra says otherwise.  According to Vimalamitra emptiness of the five skandhas points in the direction of an illusory like the emptiness in the example of a dream or the moon in the water (cp. ed. Lancaster, Prajnaparamita and Related Systems, p. 142).  The Buddha never regards the skandhas as otherwise than something to be rejected.  They are suffering; they are Mara, the killer, etc.  Their emptiness is not the oneness of life but, instead, the hollowness and emptiness of illusion, itself. 

I find one of the most remarkable things about the 20th and 21st century is how people are kept ignorant while believing, at the same time, they are really gaining knowledge.  In Buddhism this phenomenon is quite astonishing given the fact that much of the Buddhist canon is accessible to anyone.  The problem is, the Buddhist public prefers to be kept in the dark—ignorance is bliss, in other words.

 

Secular Buddhism is just nihilism

Secular Buddhists are generally comfortable with the term "agnostic", a term coined by Thomas Huxley (1825–1895).  The agnostic takes pride in know nothingness, or the same, that we cannot know.  Agnosticism, in this respect, is just another word for skepticism which, itself, is still another word for nihilism.  

Judging from what I have seen of so-called secular Buddhism, philosophically speaking, it is veiled nihilism—a happy or spiritual nihilism you might even say.  There is no rebirth or reincarnation.  This is our last life and when we're dead, we’re quite dead.

Describing my deeper sense of this benighted phenomenon, I have to look back to Nietzsche who prophesied the coming of nihilism for the West.  He turned out to be right as prophets go, seeing nihilism's dark clouds encircling the globe, blocking out the sun of spirit and wisdom to such an extent that it is acceptable to deny the very spirit that animates us.  

When a secular Buddhist writer equates Buddhism with agnosticism as Stephen Batchelor does, rest assured that he is not far from Nietzsche’s prophesy.  What the modern Buddhist is taught, essentially, is the Buddha is the common man; his Dharma is sensory perception; and the Sangha is the natural world.  When he dies, this is the attainment of nirvana. 

 

The self is not the ego

Buddhists should never equate self or atman with the modern Western concept of ego.  The two are unrelated.  Ego aims towards the psychological—atman, used in religious texts, is always spiritual and transcendent.  

Here are some examples of how ego is used in the West:  reason and circumspection (Freud); a center for selfishness (popular speech); something to strengthen (ego psychology); something to get rid of (cultism); the organizing center of wholeness (Blanck and Blanck); the fundamental cause of fragmentation (neognostic psychology); the small self as opposed to the higher self (Jung).

If there is an ego in Buddhism it is the satkaya, or more precisely, satkâya-drsti (P., sakkaya-ditthi).  This is the belief or view (drsti) that my self or atman is the Five Aggregates or the same, the psychophysical organism (satkaya).  Of each aggregate one firmly believes, etam mama, eso ‘ham asmi, eso me attâ (this is mine, I am this, this is my self). 

Under this light, the Buddha taught against satkaya or the aggregated (skandha) ego.  He taught of each aggregate this is not mine, I am not this, and this is not my self or atman.  He wanted his followers not to identify with the finite aggregates but with the transcendent, i.e,. their true self. 

 

What samsara is really about

If a newbie Buddhist asks how might a person free themselves from the cycle of birth and death there are several answers a modern Zen teacher might give. Perhaps one is that the cycle of birth and death is about reincarnation and since the Buddha doesn't believe in a soul that reincarnates, there are no cycles of birth and death.  This is the last life.  There are no others beyond it—enjoy it while you can.  But as any well read Buddhist can see, this answer is hogwash.  It takes no account of the Buddha's real teaching.

First, it is necessary to grasp the real meaning of samsara.  In a nutshell, to be in the condition of samsara means that one, as spirit (sattva), is trapped in the cycle of birth and death in which one is bound up with an uninterrupted succession of psychophysical (skandha) existences.  One has never known otherwise than this condition.  

Beings or sattvas according to the Buddha are unable to discern the most primordial (pubba koti), which is to say, they are unable to discern that which is free from samsara which is the primary substratum of all.  Were, in fact, beings able to discern the most primordial they would realize that samsara heavily depends on beings seeing only a transitory image of reality, an image to which they automatically cling, going thus from one temporal body (skandha) to the next without interruption.

What the Buddha is really saying is that if beings connect with ultimate reality, from which all things are composed, they would automatically cease clinging to the delusion that things are unique and substantive.  This would put an end to the cycle of birth and death. In addition, they would realize that things have never been other than illusory formations of the absolute substance which is Mind.

 

Zen's Western home

Somethings hardly ever change or change at an infinitesimally small rate.  The American mind, when it comes to Zen, is slow to change, that is, give up its somewhat oddball view of Zen especially when we look at what is said about Zen on various Internet Buddhist forums.  Back in 1995, Gary Ray, editor and publisher, of the defunct Buddhist journal, CyberSangha, wrote the following editorial comment, Why Can't Zen Buddhism Find an Online Home?  I've chopped off three paragraphs in order to cut to the chase.

Even the best of these forums were falling prey to Zen drivel, so I realized the problem was not with the forum administration, it was in the general attitude of its participants. This lack of quality and insight seems to be caused by three particular problems, not necessarily unique to the online world of Zen. Attachment to emptiness, Zen without Buddhism and an inaccurate portrayal of Zen in popular culture all combine to undermine meaningful Zen dialogues.

Attachment to emptiness is so common that the term "Zen sickness" is often used to describe it. Sufferers of this malady run around telling you that "everything is empty" and nothing really exists. In discussions, when these people don't know the answer to a question or don't know how to pursue a meaningful dialogue, they often resort to their emptiness claim to stifle conversation, or worse, appear wise. A recent discussion in alt.zen was composed of a someone asking where the Zen was in the discussion group, since everyone seemed to be ranting and raving about new age teachers and Hindu philosophy. The response to his question was overwhelming, as many people slyly informed him of the "emptiness" of the conference. Heck, it doesn't have Zen because it's empty. True emptiness represents a lack of permanent form, pregnant with potential for unlimited growth and development. The emptiness discussed in these conferences is a growth impediment, since discussion immediately stops when the emptiness word is used. A response one of my Zen teachers often used when confronted by an emptiness spouter was: "Does emptiness feel pain?" This is especially effective when brandishing a big Zen stick (or listserv software).

Zen without Buddhism is the second problem that impedes discussions. In the vein of Toni Packer and Charlotte Beck, many discussion participants think that Zen is some separate "way," divorced from its roots in Buddhism. I visited Charlotte Beck's center several years ago and rather than a Buddha on the alter, there sat a rock. This is the world of Buddhism without the Buddha. What happens when Zen is removed from its context and its support in Buddhism? It becomes a technique—either for relaxation or for enhancement of the ego to protect oneself from reality.

Zen divorced from Buddhism is nothing. It lacks the moral foundations, the base, that is necessary for spiritual advancement. Meditation (which is the meaning of "Zen" after all) is only one of the Eightfold Paths or Six Paramitas. Steven Echard Roshi writes that "Such people think that you can extract the essence out of Zen Buddhism, dilute it to infinitesimal levels, and still possess the same thing." The result in online discussions is that there's very little left to talk about when Buddhism is removed from the picture. There's sitting, and then there's, well, sitting. Actually these people spend enormous amounts of time trying to explain "enlightenment experiences," the brass ring of the Zen student whose Buddhist foundation is removed.

The inappropriate portrayal of Zen in popular culture is really an extension of this second problem. In popular culture, Zen becomes divorced from its Buddhist context and worse, it even loses its inaccurate representation as a meditation technique. Zen becomes an expression for any event that somehow had a synchronistic effect on the speaker. Zen changes form from a noun to a verb, and gets used to describe the proper way for motorcycle maintenance, creative management, internet navigation, and a variety of unrelated topic. The word "Zen" in the title seems to illicit a popular response that increases market share. In online conferences this "popular understanding," or what Zen master Seung Sahn calls "Common People's Zen," is used as a springboard for discussing just about anything, but preferably something from Japan - since it sounds more romantic.

Most of these problems can be fixed with a simple remedy. Just refer to Zen as Zen Buddhism. Whenever you use the word Zen, put Buddhism after it. If it sounds funny, the word Zen is probably being used inappropriately. Try it: Zen Buddhism and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Gosh, the clouds were still and I had this experience of oneness with everything,; it was very Zen Buddhism. The problem of Zen divorced from Buddhism can be solved by placing meditation in context. Think of Zen as a link in the practice chain. If you sit in zazen, divorced from the rest of Buddhist practice, I'm afraid it's not Zen Buddhism.

I like what Gary said.  I would just add that the Buddhist notion of emptiness has been, to a large degree, mixed with Western nihilism in which emptiness is almost synonymous with meaninglessness.  One, in other words, sits in meditation and by sitting accepts that the world is without meaning.  There is just silence.  Such a view is certainly alien to Buddhism when one realizes the nature of pure Mind.

 

Nothing in the way of real advances

A modern home computer reflects the great advance of technology as does, surprisingly, the washing machine which freed women, to a large degree, from domestic servitude.  However, in other areas such as medicine and religion, we have taken very small steps as compared with computer technology, for example—or the washing machine.  Surprisingly, modern medicine still doesn’t know what cancer is or how to cure it.  On the same thread, a modern hospital is still using ancient, outworn procedures that Heraclitus mentioned around 500 B.C. when he said:  “Having cut, burned, and poisoned the sick, the doctor then submits his bill.”  If anything medicine is like a automobile with its engine running, but is stuck in neutral.

Turning to religion, there is still the ancient and outworn belief in God which amounts to little more than belief in the effectiveness of hope.  Without hope injected into the idea of God, God is an empty word.  

In the face of God based religions, perish the thought that a few individuals like the Buddha should discover true reality and reject God, then develop a science of the absolute which rests upon a more solid footing than hope.  This would be like discovering not only what cancer actually is but how to cure it which if this actually happened, would destroy the modern medical empire.  In the same way, a science of the absolute, if it were popularized, would put an end to all God based religions which history shows have a bloody track record.

Needless to say, it is far easier to improve computers and make tremendous advances in that area.  But as regards other areas, progress has been almost glacial.  It is quite another matter to make advances in medicine or religion.  It is much easier to lie to the public giving them hope while raking in the dough.  Both medicine and religion give people lots of hope but nothing in the way of real advances.