Prajna (Wisdom)

As I struggle to keep up with my two sons—one who is three and a half years old, and one who turns one this month—I am constantly facing the reality that I am not as limber and agile as I was ten years ago. As I take stock of my physical condition, the following passage from the Sutra on the Buddha of Immeasurable Life Delivered by Sakyamuni Buddha (Larger Sutra) comes to mind:

Sentient beings who encounter [the Light of Amida Buddha] have the three defilements* swept away, and they become soft and gentle in body and mind. They leap and dance with joy, and the good mind arises in them.

(Three Pure Land Sutras, Volume II: The Larger Sutra, p. 36-37)

This passage tells us that people who are touched by the light of Amida Buddha become soft and gentle in body and mind. When I get out of bed in the morning the day after I have been chasing my kids around a playground for a couple hours, my body feels stiff and cumbersome, not soft and gentle.

On the first Tuesday of each month, I look forward to spending time with long-time temple members as well as new friends at our Senior Gathering. Following a short service before the image of Amida Buddha in the Main Temple Hall, we retire the Social Hall for a morning of fun activities, conversation, a delicious lunch cooked fresh by volunteers in the temple kitchen, and a movie projected on a big screen. After everyone has gathered in the Social Hall, one of the seniors will lead the group in some simple exercises that can be done sitting in a chair to develop balance and flexibility. I like to join these exercises each month, and am always humbled to see that many of our eighty and ninety-year-old members are far more limber than I am. Several of the seniors can easily reach forward and grab their toes while sitting in a chair with their leg straightened. I have a hard enough time straightening my leg while sitting in a chair, let alone reaching for my toes.

Spending time with these inspiring seniors, I am struck by how they are soft and gentle, not just in their bodies, but in their minds as well. They always share kind smiles and friendly conversation with everyone they meet here at our temple. As I consider what it means to have a mind and body that is soft and gentle, I am reminded of the Buddhist teaching that the hard ice of self-centered thinking melts into the soft flowing water of compassion. In his Hymns on the Pure Land Masters, Shinran writes:

Through the benefit of the unhindered light,

We realize shinjin of vast, majestic virtues,

And the ice of our blind passions necessarily melts,

Immediately becoming water of enlightenment.

(Collected Works of Shinran, p. 371)

To live with shinjin, or Buddhist faith, is to receive the light of the Buddha’s wisdom as the warmth that melts the ice of self-centered thinking, so that our minds and bodies can flow freely in the water of enlightenment.

The softness of body described in the sutras is not about being able to touch your toes. True hardness of the body is the unwillingness to do things to help others simply because it is inconvenient or uncomfortable. One example might be a healthy body that is unwilling to get up to surrender its seat to an elderly passenger in a crowded train car.  A body that has become soft and gentle in the Dharma is not attached to comfort and pleasure, but rather is willing to set aside its own convenience to act freely in the world to help others—this kind of soft and gentle body can be seen in those who set aside fear and desire for comfort and travel to help those affected by the Ebola outbreak in West Africa. A body that has been softened by the light of the Buddha’s wisdom moves freely within its full capacity to help others.

*three defilements: greed, anger, and ignorance.

In gassho,

During the time of the Buddha there was a young man by the name of Ahimsaka (lit. “Harmless One”) who was such an excellent student that his classmates came to resent him and convinced their teacher that he had ambitions to take over the school and drive out the teacher. Knowing Ahimsaka to be an exceptionally reverent and obedient student, the teacher instructed him to bring a gift of 1,000 human fingers each taken from a different body, perhaps in the hope that he would be captured or killed in the process of trying to collect all the fingers.

Despite his reservations, Ahimsaka felt such loyalty to his teacher that he set out to fulfill the grisly request. He chose a high place in a dense forest where he could spot his victims approaching and easily ambush them. In time, he came to be called Angulimala, which literally means “Garland of Fingers,” because he wore the fingers taken from his victims on a string around his neck. As word spread of the murders he was committing, people avoided that forest all together.

When the Buddha passed through that area on a journey, the local people repeatedly warned him to stay away from the forest to avoid being attacked by Angulimala. The Buddha listened to their warnings in silence and carried on his way. When Angulimala saw the Buddha enter the forest he rushed to pounce on him. He chased the Buddha running as fast as he could, but he could not catch up to him. In frustration, Angulimala stopped running and called out to the Buddha, ordering him to stop. The Buddha replied, “I have stopped, Angulimala. You stop.” Perplexed, Angulimala demanded that the Buddha explain how he could claim to have stopped when he was still moving and how could he claim that Angulimala was still moving when it was he who had stopped. The Buddha responded with the following verse:

“I have stopped, Angulimala, once & for all, having cast off violence toward all living beings. You, though, are unrestrained toward beings. That’s how I’ve stopped and you haven’t.”

(Angulimala Sutta, Translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu http://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/mn/mn.086.than.html)

When Angulimala heard these words of truth spoken by the Buddha, he immediately cast his sword and weapons into a pit and humbly asked to be admitted into the Sangha. The Buddha accepted him as a disciple and Angulimala became a living example of the power of the Buddha’s teachings to transform violence into peace. From time to time, people who remembered Angulimala’s past deeds would attack him, but rather than fighting back, Angulimala wished peace and goodness for those who would harm him.

The Buddha teaches that the things we do, say and think are greatly influenced by the force of karma, the vast web of causes and conditions that propel us along on our journey through life. Our true teacher Shinran explained the working of karma to his close Dharma companion Yuien:

. . . the Master [Shinran] once asked, “Yuien-bo, do you accept all that I say?”

“Yes I do,” I answered.

“Then will you not deviate from whatever I tell you?” he repeated.

I humbly affirmed this. Thereupon he said, “Now, I want you to kill a thousand people. If you do, you will definitely attain birth [in Amida Buddha’s realm of peace and bliss].”

I responded, “Though you instruct me thus, I’m afraid it is not in my power to kill even one person.”

“Then why did you say that you would follow whatever I told you?”

He continued, “By this you should realize that if we could always act as we wished, then when I told you to kill a thousand people in order to attain birth, you should have immediately done so. But since you lack the karmic cause inducing you to kill even a single person, you do not kill. It is not that you do not kill because your heart is good. In the same way, a person may not wish to harm anyone and yet end up killing a hundred or a thousand people.”

(Collected Works of Shinran, pg. 670-671)

Viewed in the light of the Buddha’s wisdom, it becomes clear that there is no such thing as an inherently good or evil person. People commit harmful acts when their minds are clouded by delusion. Likewise, people are able to practice genuine kindness when they see the light of wisdom. No matter how far astray I have been led by the force of my past karma, a single encounter with the compassion of the Buddha has the power to transform my life. Angulimala had the good fortune to live in a time and place where he could meet Sakyamuni Buddha in person. Living in this age 2,500 years after Sakyamuni dwelled in our world, I encounter the great compassion of the Buddha in the Nembutsu. Just as Angulimala turned his life around when he heard the true words spoken by the Sakyamuni Buddha, my life is transformed in the words “Namo Amida Butsu” the voice of great compassion calling me to take refuge in the light of wisdom.

In gassho,

I have always thought of monkeys as exotic and charming animals. There are no wild monkeys in Minnesota where I grew up, but I have encountered several troops of monkeys while cycling on quiet mountain roads in Japan. When I excitedly told my wife about the monkeys I met, she was decidedly less enthusiastic. Having grown up in Japan, monkeys are neither exotic nor charming for her. In areas shared by human and monkey populations, monkeys can become a real nuisance by raiding trash bins or pillaging vegetable gardens.

One of my favorite Buddhist stories describes a monkey that was captured and placed in a cage with six windows. A mischievous little boy discovered the caged monkey and decided to play a mean-spirited trick on it. The little boy gathered six delicious-looking pieces of fruit and placed one in clear view of each of the six windows, just out of reach of the monkey’s short arms. Each time the boy would set out one of those fruits, the monkey would rush over to that window and stretch his arms as far as they would go, contorting his body and waving his paws trying to reach the fruit. Once the boy had set out all six of the fruits, the monkey dashed frantically back and forth between the six windows until it collapsed from exhaustion.

I find that in my day-to-day life, my mind is just like that monkey. Instead of chasing after mangos, bananas, apples or oranges, my mind chases after pleasures that I perceive through the windows of my six sensory organs: my eyes, ears, nose, tongue, skin, and thinking brain. In fact, not only does my mind chase after the things I like, it works hard to avoid the things that I dislike.

I can spend hours on my smartphone looking at photos that my friends post on Facebook, but am quick to avert my eyes when I see an animal that has been hit by a car on the roads I use everyday. My ears perk up when someone complements me, but tune out the moment someone points out one of my shortcomings. When I am biking home from the temple on a hot afternoon I can smell a backyard barbeque from three blocks away, but I fail to notice the smell of my own sweat as I walk through my front door. I crave the familiar Midwestern flavor of deep fried cheese curds, but cringe at the prospect of eating nutritious foods like nattō fermented soy beans or grilled mackerel. I love to turn up the air conditioner on a hot day so my skin is comfortably cool, but will toss and turn in bed if it is too warm and I start to sweat. It is the working of my mind that creates all these likes and dislikes. In William Shakespeare’s words, “there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” (Hamlet, Act 2, Scene 2)

My minds runs in circles all day long chasing after those things I like and trying to avoid those things I dislike. Eventually, my mind becomes exhausted and flops down on the ground to rest. As I lie there on my back, I notice that the sky above me has been wide open the whole time, filled with possibilities in all directions that I was unable to see because I was too busy chasing after pleasures and running from unpleasantness in those six little windows.

In his final sermon before passing into parinirvana, Sakyamuni Buddha advised his followers “Rely on wisdom, not on the working of the mind.” (Quoted in The Collected Works of Shinran, p. 241) When we rely on the working of our minds we wind up chasing after the pleasures of our six senses and running away from the things we think are unpleasant. When we rely on wisdom, we learn to see beyond those little windows in our mind, and notice the vast sky of possibilities above us. When we learn to stand still and notice the big sky all around us, we will also see that the ground beneath our feet stretches out to the horizon in all directions. When we receive the power of Amida Buddha’s wisdom, we can walk right out of that little cage of our likes and dislikes and enjoy the freedom of a big heart that accepts all possibilities and does not push anything or anyone away.

The nembutsu is the Buddha’s voice of wisdom calling to us, saying, “Hey you, stop running around in that little box of likes and dislikes. Look at that big sky all around you. Everything is just fine as it is. No need to rush about. No need to worry. Namo Amida Butsu.”

In gassho,

In the Buddhist traditions of Japan, February 15 is the day that Nirvana Day is traditionally observed in commemoration of Sakyamuni Buddha’ s passing into parinirvana, the state of great tranquility realized at the end of life by one who has crossed over the ocean of birth and death. At the San Mateo Buddhist Temple, we will be holding our annual Nirvana Day Service on Sunday, February 9 at 9:30 a.m. We hope you will be able to join us for this service as we remember the life of Sakyamuni Buddha and reflect on our own journey to final liberation from suffering.

In the Buddhacarita: In Praise of Buddha’s Acts, an ancient record of the Buddha’ s life, it is written that when the Buddha was 80 years old and dwelling near the city of Vaisali, an unusual series of earthquakes occurred. Startled by this strange occurrence, the Buddha’ s disciple Ananda asked the Buddha why this was happening. Sakyamuni Buddha responded by saying that he would only remain alive for three more months and that the earthquakes were the result of the Buddha’ s abandoning all remaining ties to his life in this world.

Upon hearing this news, Ananda became deeply disheartened. Ananda was aware of the truth of impermanence, having on many occasions heard the Buddha teach that all those that come together will one day be separated. Nevertheless, he and the other disciples of the Buddha who had not yet realized perfect enlightenment worried about how they would be able to continue their study of the Dharma without the Buddha as their teacher and guide. At that time Ananda lamented, “In the great darkness of ignorance, beings have all lost their direction. The Tathagata (Buddha) has lit the lamp of wisdom but it will be suddenly extinguished. How will they escape?”

Observing Ananda’ s distress, the Buddha offered him the following words of comfort:

“As a teacher, I have never held anything from beings. Develop a notion of revulsion [for samsara], well established in your own territory!

“When you know your own territory, you must be attentive and diligently apply yourself! Practice alone and in tranquility, and reside in solitude! Do not follow beliefs in anything else!
“When you know the territory of the Law (Dharma), you are certain to clearly see the lamp of wisdom. It can dispel delusion . . . Having obtained the excellent Law, one is free from any self and free from [‘ I’ and] ‘ mine.’”(Buddhacarita: In Praise of the Buddha’s Acts, translated by Charles Willemen, pg. 168; available online at http://www.bdkamerica.org/digital/dBET_T0192_Buddhacarita_2009.pdf)

In commenting on these words of the Buddha, the Buddhist scholar Hajime Nakamura explains that the word “territory” here originally refers to a place of high ground where one can take refuge during a flood. The Buddha is telling Ananda that he must determine for himself what is true and wise, so that he may have a well-established refuge in his heart and mind that he can turn to for guidance in times of difficulty.

The guidance of a wise friend can be of great help to us as we face challenges in life, but in the end, we must decide for ourselves what our true path is, without just going along with what the people around us are doing or saying. For this reason, the Buddha teaches that our most reliable refuge can be found in the Dharma. The Dharma that the Buddha taught freely without holding anything back is the high ground to which we can return and get a clear perspective when the flood waters of confusion seem to be rising all around us.

From that elevated territory of the Dharma, we can clearly see the lamp of wisdom shining into our lives and illuminating our true path. Even in the times that we are unable to clearly see that lamp of wisdom, it never ceases to shine into our lives, guiding us to the higher ground of true understanding. In the Nembutsu, we receive that lamp of wisdom as the compassionate vow of Amida Buddha to guide all beings to liberation. As our true teacher Shinran (1173-1263) writes in his Notes on the Inscriptions on Sacred Scrolls: “Amida’s Vow is a great torch in the long night of ignorance. We should reflect that, although our wisdom-eyes are dark, we need not despair.” (Collected Works of Shinran, p. 516)

In gassho,