I enjoy Buddhism's Pure Land tradition, but I don't believe in it

Is it possible to enjoy a religious tradition without believing in it? Absolutely. In a sense that's what Christmas is like for many people. You don't have to believe that Jesus was born of a virgin and is God's beloved son to like the Christmas season.

All that's needed is to keep the parts of Christmas you can accept, and reject the parts you can't accept. Same goes with any religion. 

That's how I explain my enjoyment of the Pure Land tradition of Buddhism, which I mainly know about from reading Taitetsu Unno's book, "River of Fire, River of Water." I've written a couple of previous posts about the book: "Descend into the valley of life, rather than climb the mountaintop," and "Compassion, like other good qualities, is in us, not the cosmos."

What spurred me to pick up the book again today was something Zen Master Henry Shukman alluded to in one of his talks that I listen to on my iPhone's The Way app. Shukman said that frequently we get glimpses of awakening (in the Buddhist sense) as we go about our everyday activities, not during meditation.

In other words, some insight bubbles away in an unconscious corner of our brain, then boils over and makes an appearance in our conscious awareness.

My mini, or micro, awakening occurred last night as my wife and I were watching an episode in the new season of Hacks, a comedy series on Netflix that also contains quite a bit of drama. Ava Daniels, one of the lead characters, was going through her usual trials and tribulations, trying to make sense of a life that often seems nonsensical.

Suddenly I was struck by a realization that wasn't a thought or a feeling, but seemed more like a message from one part of me to another part of me. It didn't arrive in the form of words. However I can try to express it in words: Stop continually trying to improve yourself; accept that you're always going to be flawed, imperfect, confused, unsure what's best to do -- just like Ava.

A weight seemed to life from my psyche. I felt a sense of relief. Later, as I was heading off to bed, I was drawn to retrieve "River of Fire, River of Water" from a bookcase. I read a few pages before going to sleep and re-read more of the book this morning.

Part of the message of the Pure Land tradition of Shin Buddhism fits with my realization. Here's some examples (recitative nembutsu refers to the practice of reciting "namu-amida-butsu," which means "I entrust myself to Amida Buddha"):

As the world became increasingly unstable and chaotic, traditional  Buddhism, supported by the privileged classes, became increasingly irrelevant to the times [12th century], and the demand for a new religiosity to meet the spiritual needs of the age became intense.

The void was filled by the newly established Pure Land teaching of recitative nembutsu. It met the spiritual hunger of the people and attracted a mass following. For those who had been excluded from the Buddhist path, it was the saving grace.

Those who had been excluded were fishermen and hunters who made a living by violating the principle of noninjury, peasants who were considered "bad," lowly and ignorant, women of all classes because of their defilements, and monks and nuns who had broken the monastic precepts.

...The new school stood out in many ways from the traditions that preceded it, particularly in the way that it could be integrated into common, everyday life. Shin Buddhism makes no sharp distinction between clergy and laity as far as the possibility of enlightenment is concerned. Everyone, regardless of differences in age, class, gender, profession, or moral culpability, would attain Buddhahood by the working of great compassion.

How the working of great compassion comes about is one place where Pure Land Buddhism and I part company. Shin Buddhism embraces supernaturalism when it comes to the Primal Vow that makes Buddhahood attainable. 

The transformation of bits of rubble into gold is due solely to the working of the Primal Vow. Originating in the mythic past, the bodhisattva by the name of Dharmakara identified with the pains of all living beings and attempted to find solutions to human suffering. Expending countless eons of time in suprahuman resolve, reflection, and praxis, Dharmakara fulfilled the Primal Vow to save all beings.

This resulted in the attainment of Buddhahood known as Amida, the Buddha of Immeasurable Light and Life. This drama of salvation is contained in the Name, namu-amida-butsu, which resounds throughout the universe.

Well, one thought that obviously comes to mind is how it is that the historical Buddha, who lived in what is now India not all that long ago, relates to this Dharmakara guy (or gal, maybe?) who supposedly preceded the historical Buddha by a lot, "countless eons of time."

Leaving this quibble aside, I don't believe that the compassion embodied in the Primal Vow resides in the universe. The way I look upon compassion, as I laid out in a previous post about this book, is that it is a feature of the human mind -- which is how I was able to feel a sense of compassion toward my decidedly flawed self last night, realizing that it is absolutely fine if I remain as imperfect as I am now.

I wrote:

I don't believe that repeating Namu Amida Butsu causes countless Buddhas to rejoice in and protect the person reciting those words. However, this mantra, as with any mantra, has an effect upon the person speaking it.

Thus if we find that a mantra produces some good quality in us, this is  wonderful. We just shouldn't believe that the quality entered into us from the outside, from some corner of the cosmos. 

For example, Unno says in his book, "To bring about such a transformation is the sole purpose of the Primal Vow of Amida, the working of great compassion that courses through the universe."

When I read those words, I thought about disease, hurricanes, tsunamis, birth defects, and all the other nasty stuff that seems incompatible with a compassion that courses through the universe. Then it struck me that compassion isn't out there. It is in here.

Within us. 

Almost everybody is compassionate. Not all the time. Not to everyone deserving of it. But at least to some people, to some living beings, some of the time. Which  naturally includes ourself, for compassion begins with self-compassion.

And we can learn to become more compassionate through a variety of means, including Buddhist practices.

Thus we shouldn't be led astray by the familiar habit of believing that a feeling we have is produced by an external force. When I was a member of a guru-centered religious organization, people would return from seeing the guru and say, "He made me feel so wonderful."

No, he didn't.

The proof of this is that other people can see the guru and feel nothing, or even a negative emotion. Likewise, a movie doesn't make us cry, or laugh, or scared. Our own mind produces those sensations, stimulated by the movie. Someone else may feel no sadness, humor, or fear from the same movie.

That's why I'm confident that the universe doesn't have compassion coursing through it. Our mind can, though. And if repeating Namu Amida Butsu makes us feel more compassionate, or more relaxed, or happier, that's a wonderful thing. 

By the way, I frequently recite namu amida butsu. It's become my favorite mantra. I tried to explain why in a 2021 post. 

Comments

[Ron E.]

I picked this up from a piece in The Zen Universe (August 11th 2019) “Buddhist compassion has nothing to do with sentimentality or mere pity. Sentimentality or mere pity cannot help the other person achieve victory in life; it cannot truly relieve suffering and impart joy. Compassion, a sense of solidarity with others–with all life–arising from a wish for mutual happiness and growth, is the heart and origin of Buddhism. The essence of compassion is empowerment. The effort to offer others effective encouragement for their specific circumstances is what gives rise to wisdom. Compassion and wisdom are thus closely related.
Compassion has both an emotional and rational component. Emotionally, we need to appreciate the interdependence of all life on this planet. The rational basis for extending our compassion equally to everyone [ourselves and everything] is so obvious, yet it’s something that many people don’t even consider.
All of us are born with the potential to be compassionate, where we wish for others to be free of
suffering and its causes.”

-------

I particularly resonate with the second paragraph, ‘the need to appreciate the interdependence of all life on this planet.’ It all comes down to I believe, to awareness and this primarily means to be aware of who/what we are. Instead of understanding the cause of our divisions (and suffering) which lie at the feet of the mentally constructed ‘self’, which we jealously protect; we allow it isolate ourselves from everyone and everything else.

[sant64]

Santa Claus....

If anyone wants to understand the practical power of compassion and metta in Buddhist practice, I highly recommend these videos by Ajahn Sona. They've really enriched my meditation practice.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zxh9h__4Fcc&list=PLCXN1GlAupG1o9fJBruNaEjNCy7LVdZaN&index=1

[Appreciative Reader]

Haha, yes, Pure Land. Pure Land halfwittery is like a real-world demonstration of the principle behind the children's game of Telephone so Chinese Whispers, with what the Buddha actually said, that is to say the original teachings, getting morphed bit by bit by bit, starting from Mahayanic logic-chopping, to Vajrayanic quasi-theism, to Zen-ic obscurantism, and finally, in Pure Land, to full-on theistic halfwittery.

Interesting, the parallels with the Christ-did-everything-we-only-need-accept-him-into-our-hearts motif that one can espy in there, that renders all personal effort not just unnecessary but actually an expression of hubris, and therefore counterproductive.

Agreed, no reason why one might not find diversion, even pleasure, in these oddities, if one is so inclined. As long as one is clear, fully clear, that one's interest and pleasure are literary, and anthropological, and sociological --- not factual, not as a descriptor of reality.

[Ron E.]

Hi A.R. I agree with your take on the ‘halfwittery’ in the various schools of Buddhism, though I would add that as for Zen (Chan) Buddhism, although it also has its share of obscurity, much of the Western organisations have drifted away from (or rather made more practical) the seemingly obscure practices such as ‘koans’ and ‘silent illumination bringing them into the western realms of psychology.

I've mentioned this before, where having delved into some of the classic Zen masters work, I’ve generally found them often incomprehensible for my western brain. Luckily, some modern-day writers and commenters on Zen and Chan make it more understandable. Writers such as Joko Beck, Tony Packer, Steve Hagen and particularly Stephen Batchelor (who has made it his life's work to translate Buddhist texts bringing it more in line with today's more psychological approach). In fact, Beck, Packer and lately J. Tollifson have practically dropped the traditional Zen approach and speak more of the ’just this’ or ‘present moment’ – all much in tune with recent western researchers.

And just to say (from my own experience) yes, koan practice may seem obscure but is immensely practical in that the object is not to answer the seemingly nonsensical question but to arrive at a point where the conceptualising, analytical mind relaxes away from the koan, or the puzzle to naturally drift into the state of no-mind where our habitual mental habits can be observed (and perhaps dropped to reveal 'just this', present moment reality. It’s just another type of meditative practice.

And, the so-called ‘silent illumination’ of Chan is simply to watch and understand (or see) the mind in action which can open the gate to those perhaps confusing concepts of impermanence, emptiness, dependent arising and no-self; all subject to perception.

[sant64]

"A philosopher is a dead poet and a dying theologian." -- Will Durant

[Brian in Brooklyn]

"It didn't arrive in the form of words. However I can try to express it in words: Stop continually trying to improve yourself; accept that you're always going to be flawed, imperfect, confused, unsure what's best to do -- just like Ava."

Wonderful. I had a similar moment one morning putting on my socks as I dressed for work.

[Appreciative Reader]

Hey, Ron.

Heh, yes, the "halfwittery". By that I mean a fallacious passing off of the non-factual, indeed the nonsensical, as factual, via spurious, non-rational means.

Got nothing against a bunch of impoverished folks finding solace in their harsh lives. Except, that solace is predicated on accepting as fact a whole bunch of things that are patently non-factual. Which is ...heh, halfwittery, and in the final analysis dysfunctional, and that solace spurious.

(Brian fully understands that none of this is true. But he finds diversion, and pleasure, in these quaint, simplistic ideas, taking them as literature, as tradition. And indeed finds solace in their chant, but without buying into the weird nonsense underlying all of that, and thus remains safe from the eventual dysfunctionality of such solace. So it's cool, Brian's personal take on it. But not so how the actual believers of Pure Land take it.)

But of course, and as you say, we agree on all of that.

[Appreciative Reader]

If I may pick at an incidental nit within your comment, Ron: I disagree with the assumptions underlying the "Western mind" idea. There's no essential, stereotypical mind that's uniquely Western or Eastern. It's fallacious to think of the Western mind as somehow rational, and the Eastern mind as somehow not. That's just as fallacious as positing uniquely masculine and feminine mentalities, because at best such stereotypicality is a societal artefact, something to be rooted out not reinforced by simply accepting as fact; and, in any case, in this instance I'm not sure it's even true.

Heh, um was given to often selling the "You need to be born into the culture to understand that belief" argument. While obviously it's true from a socio-historical perspective, but as a statement of (and assessment/evaluation of) factuality, that argument --- often presented not outright but as implication --- fails completely.

[Appreciative Reader]

(Not disagreeing with you, Ron. Just teasing out an incidental nuance, picking at an incidental nit, is all. I get where you're coming from. Am traveling, and on my phone, and so constrained into brevity even at cost of complete clarity.)