The Buddha's teaching as it relates to our human birth and death predicament, being sandwiched between the two, attempts to provide us with a personally verifiable picture of reality mainly in two senses. Firstly, there is conditioned reality which is relative and, secondly, there is unconditioned reality which is ultimate. The latter is what we hope one day to attain.
The outlines of this are seen in the simile of the raft in the Alagaddupama Sutta. A man is walking down a road and sees this bank to be dangerous and frightening and the further bank to be secure and not frightening. To get to the other bank or shore he requires a means such as a bridge or a raft. The man then constructs a raft to reach the other bank. He strives with all of his might to cross to the other bank in his raft there, eventually, to find safety since the other shore is beyond the dangerous and frightening bank he just left. When he makes it to the other bank he does away with the raft no longer needing it. It was only a means for bringing him to safety.
Sentient beings live on the bank of samsara which is conditionality; which is never other than dangerous and frightening. The Buddha’s teachings are the means to the other shore which is unconditioned and free of suffering, but his teachings are only useful for the crossing over—not for retaining. Moreover, his teachings are not intended for helping us to enjoy this shore that is dangerous.
For most of us, the simile of the raft makes perfect sense. On the other hand, some modern Buddhists have a different interpretation. I have noticed it gaining traction over the years. Yes, it is quite bizarre. The advice might go something like this.
The Buddha’s teachings are, to be sure, useful—but not all of them. Use them for what you want and ignore the rest. They are like a useful raft for getting what you want out of this life. In a way, your needs and desires are like the other shore. Ultimately, there is no real unconditioned other shore that we need paddle across, so ignore things like nirvana and anything that smells of transcendence.
I have seen this advice in one form or another. It is bad advice—possibly the worst if not the most evil. We should all be on this shore preparing ourselves to cross to the other shore. There is nothing of lasting value on this bank. Our youth eventually turns into old age and death. Without a break, we are reborn again being conscious of another body. But the modern mind is not about to give up its delusions, its hostility and greed. This shore, moderns believe, is the best of all possible shores!
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