Faced with problems
of earning a living, supporting a family, making
ends meet, etc., we might sometimes think: “Oh, how
nice to be a bird, free to fly wherever you want.”
But Bob Dylan poetically looked at this from both
sides when he sang:
“Oh, my friends from the prison they ask unto me:
‘How good, how good does it feel to be free?’
And I answer them most mysteriously:
‘Are birds free from the chains of the skyway?’”
Is
not life for the birds—as for all forms of life—a
struggle for survival? If you could be a bird for a
week—or even a day— undergoing all the
hazards birds undergo—the constant search for food,
the inclemency of the weather and the need to watch
out for and avoid enemies—you would probably soon be
glad to change back to being human again. If you
expect life to be easy you will often be
disappointed; but expect it to be difficult and you
will sometimes be pleasantly surprised.
Sometimes,
people say to me: "May I ask you a question?", and I
respond: "Certainly, you may ask whatever you like,
but the answers are mine."
This book contains questions that people
have asked me. I do not know if they will feel
satisfied with my answers, but would prefer it if
they were not; I would be more pleased if they were
stimulated to find their own answers, and make their
own decisions, as the answers of others are
second-hand. If my words provoke disagreement, that
might also be good, as people must also think about
what they disagree with.
When we ask questions, we often have our
own answers in mind—partly formed, at least—and are
looking for confirmation; it is like a person
needing surgery going to more than one doctor for a
second or a third opinion before submitting to an
operation.
If we know how to ask our questions, if
we think about them, and formulate them carefully,
we might find the answers contained within them.
It is my intention, therefore, not to
provide definitive or final conclusions, but more to
turn people back to themselves—to hold a mirror up
to them and say: "Maybe this is what you are looking
for". My answers are only possibilities, and are not
necessarily more valid than your own.
YOUR QUESTIONS, MY ANSWERS
is a joint-effort; without your questions, there would be
none of my answers. This illustrates how, by
ourselves, we are nothing and nobody; ‘I’ exist only
because of ‘you’. So, let me thank you for helping
me write this book.
QUESTION:
"I was raised as a Christian, and
taught to believe in God, but have never been very
religious. I have a good job and prospects of
promotion, a nice home, and a fairly happy
family-life; on the material level, I lack nothing.
But now, in middle age, having worked hard for and
achieved what is known as ‘success’, I feel
something missing, that there is something more to
life than what I have. I’m beginning to think, more
and more, of the purpose of life—or even if it
has a purpose. It often seems chaotic and
without meaning, unjust and full of suffering. Can
there really be a God in all this—a good and
merciful God? I feel a great urge to know, but
distrust organized religion, with its
power-structures and vested interests. All religions
claim to be right, but their theories and beliefs
often contradict each other, so that it’s hard to
know which is right and which is wrong".
ANSWER:
Faced
with his own mortality, man has,
Throughout the ages,
Sought by thought for the Immortal,
And religions are the result
Of his gropings in this direction.
Yet these, while they form the highest
And noblest flowerings of his mentations,
Have all failed and fallen far short
In their aim and purpose
Of capturing and demonstrating,
Clearly and beyond doubt,
The Divine, of which they speak.
Might this not largely be because
We search from fear,
And the desire to possess and hold,
Instead of from awe and wonder
Of that which we already have?
With nets of imagination,
We have tried to catch the wind,
And all we have succeeded in doing
Is to bring the Divine
Down to our own muddy level,
Instead of raising ourselves to
The level of the Divine.
For so
long, and with so fierce a fortitude,
Have we grasped onto concepts and ideas
In the fearful hope of redemption and salvation,
That we know not if the clasped hand
Holds anything but itself.
Perhaps—and if it ever contained anything at all—
It has long since crawled out and escaped,
Like a worm from the heart of a rosebud.
And all the time that one holds one’s hand,
Fistlike,
Convinced that what one has, or thinks one has,
Is real and true and the only,
How it is possible for the Real,
The Unknown, the Nameless,
To reveal Itself?
Would
one who thinks he holds a jewel
Willingly let go for something unknown?
Hardly.
But if he begins to doubt his belief
In a jewel within his folded palm,
He might begin to investigate,
And find, upon looking, not a jewel,
But just a desiccated flower, its petals dead,
Or some other worthless thing.
Would he continue to cling to and worship
This less-than-a-poor-substitute for a jewel?
His hand would then be open and empty,
And the Nameless could enter.
A concept is not a reality; be careful
not to take it for such. Man has clothed the Divine
in many forms and names—or rather, has attempted to
do so. Ask the believers for some attributes of God,
and you will get many responses: Loving, Kind,
Compassionate, Omnipotent, Omnipresent, Omniscient,
All-Wise, Tolerant, Forgiving, etc.; never do they
say anything negative about God. How strange,
therefore, that believers have waged war, hated and
killed in the name of their God! We have no need to
look back as far as the Crusades—which were termed
‘Holy Wars’, and which remain in history’s records
as events of great savagery and bloodshed—or the
fiendish torturings and burnings of the
Inquisition—which the Catholic Church, claiming
infallibility, must forever have upon its
conscience—because this strange aberration is still
with us. If there is a God, and if It—I am not going
to engender or personify It—has such qualities as
Its believers claim, would It—could
It—approve of the barbaric behavior of Its
followers?
Take, for example, the furor in India
over the mosque standing on a site which Hindus
claim to be the birth place of their God Rama: with
Hindu fundamentalism on the rise—as among the
adherents of other religions—there is now a demand
for the demolition of the mosque in order to build a
temple there; they say that the temple which
originally stood there was destroyed by the first of
the Moghul Emperors, Babur, about 450
years ago. Already, there have been bloody riots
about this matter in different parts of India,
during which 700 people have been killed and
thousands injured.
There are countless temples in India,
but, in order to build another one, some people are
ready to plunge the country into the horrors of
inter-religious conflict—like that which took place
upon the partition of the subcontinent into India
and Pakistan in 1947, when millions were massacred
and made homeless—between majority Hindus, of whom
there are about 800 millions, and minority Muslims,
who number about 125 millions; such conflict is
always simmering below the surface in India, ready
to boil over at any time. The Muslims there will
surely not allow their shrine to be destroyed
without vigorous protest and opposition! Now,
suppose that, after much inevitable violence and
bloodshed, the mosque is replaced by a temple: Will
that make anyone more religious? Will it bring them
any nearer to the God they claim to worship? Surely,
leaders of religion have a responsibility to help
their followers understand a little better than
this, instead of misdirecting them into courses of
thinking and acting that are the very antitheses of
religion. Fanaticism is a disease that, with proper
education, can be overcome and eradicated; of
course, this will take a long time, because it is
deep-rooted, but we can make a beginning, and carry
on from there, can we not?
(Update: Since I first wrote this in
1991, the mosque was indeed demolished by bands of
militant Hindus, resulting in widespread communal
violence, especially in Bombay, which has a large
Muslim population. The Stock Exchange there was
bombed, causing the deaths of more than a thousand
people in that incident alone. There were burnings,
slayings and rapings, as had been predicted. The
suffering was immense. And even as I rewrite this in
December 1997, there have been several
train-bombings in India, with a number of deaths and
many injured, and though no-one has yet claimed
responsibility for them, it is thought that, being
around the anniversary of the demolition of the
mosque, they were carried out in reprisal for that;
the madness goes on).
St. Augustine wrote that he had said to
Nature—the trees, the mountains, the flowers, the
birds, and so on—’"Tell me about God’. My gazing
upon them was my question; their beauty was their
answer". This is extremely flawed reasoning,
starting with a preconception, and then seeing just
what he wanted and expected to see. In order to
perceive a mountain or flower as beautiful, he must
have had a standard by which to measure them, but
that was his standard, not that of the
mountain or the flower. Does the flower or the bird
know it is beautiful? We say they are, but
that’s just our opinion, our judgment,
which depends upon our feelings, which are heavily
conditioned. Among humans, there are differing ideas
of beauty about the same things: in Western society,
for example, although there are lots of overweight
people, fat is regarded as ugly, but among islanders
of the South Pacific, Samoans consider it beautiful!
There will be no grounds for disagreement about this
if we realize that measurements of such things as
beauty and ugliness are relative and subjective.
Most people fear snakes and think they are ugly, but
some think they are beautiful. To humans, toads are
rather repulsive, but to each other they are
probably not, otherwise they would have died out
long ago. And from a toad’s eye view, humans may be
grotesque monsters! It all depends upon how you look
at it!
St. Augustine mentions nothing of
ugliness, but, as Lao Tse said: "All can know beauty
as beauty only because of ugliness". We can know one
only when we know the other; they always go
together, inseparably. What Augustine perceived as
‘beauty’ is not proof of the existence of God, as he
claimed—and certainly not as he imagined God to be:
as a being with human qualities such as jealousy,
love, hate, anger, favoritism, and so on. Nature is
impartial and impersonal; the rain wets the good
person as well as the bad; the house of the believer
may be consumed by fire just as may be the house of
the non-believer; the flood sweeps away those in its
path regardless of their piety or impiety.
Anthropomorphism—the attribution of human qualities
to the Divine, or the personification of the
Absolute—has done more harm in the world than
anything else, because people believe that such a
God can be bribed, persuaded or lobbied into taking
sides, and many wars have been fought with the idea
that God is somehow participating, and often with
both parties claiming that God is on their side
against the other; thus, God is divided against
‘Himself’! This delusion continues until today.
Isn’t it amazing?
Theists are divided in their ideas of
God. Some believe He/It is eternally transcendent,
or separate from the Universe, while others declare
Him/It to be imminent, or infused in
everything—or, more accurately, that everything is
part of God. According to the latter view,
everything thereby partakes of Divinity, and this
fits in better with the findings, or deductions, of
modern science than the former. Many Christians have
become stuck with the idea of God as painted by
Michelangelo on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in
the Vatican, where He—and It definitely is a He—is
shown with a long white beard in the act of creating
Adam. Though it is a masterpiece of art, and
Michelangelo’s devotion and artistry can only be
highly admired, it can in no way depict what he had
tried to represent, no more than a Buddha image can
represent the qualities of the Buddha. This is
largely why Muslims and Jews abhor images and
portraits, regarding all attempts to depict the
Divine as futile and blasphemy. No attempt should be
made to limit the Limitless.
These days, because of the rise of
Feminism and the reaction against patriarchal
religion, some people—mainly women—are thinking and
speaking of God as ‘She’, instead of ‘He’. And why
not? It is just as logical—and just as much a
limitation.
Now, before you set off on a
round-the-world search, it is advisable to check
what you already have and are, or you may find that,
after much wandering and hardship, finally, you must
return—to yourself! Why should we think that what we
are looking for is there but not here? Truth has no
limits and, just as gold is unharmed by fire, so
Truth cannot be destroyed; if it can be destroyed,
it is not Truth. Therefore, can you—dare you
—put your beliefs to the test? An unwillingness to
do so would indicate some uncertainty about them,
would it not? But it is the only way to check their
validity.
Despite the fact that the Buddha never
called anyone to believe Him, but to investigate
things and find out for themselves if a thing is
reasonable or not, Buddhists, no less than people of
other religions, are prone to belief. Many of them
believe that, by calling for help on Bodhisattva
Avalokitesvara, they will be delivered from
dangers and difficulties of all kinds, as this is
what is said in the Lotus Sutra. Well, I will shock
many believers here by asking: Is this belief
supported by the realities of life, or is it just
wishful thinking, like so much belief? We all know
of people who prayed for help when they were
suffering or in danger, and got no response. Those
who get responses to their prayers are fewer in
number—far fewer —than those who don’t. This,
surely, suggests that such beliefs are not confirmed
by our experiences, yet still we believe. Should not
our faith grow from our own direct experience of
things, instead of beliefs inherited from others? We
would have a much firmer foundation if our faith
were so founded.
A last hint, before you begin your
search: Take care that what you are searching for is
not a projection of your hopes, fears and
imaginings. It is not within your capacity to find
Truth, for Truth—or God, or whatever you prefer to
call It—is bigger than you. Truth, rather, must come
to you, and it cannot do so if your mind is full of
concepts and beliefs, but only when it is open and
receptive.
QUESTION:
"In Vietnam, I often used to go to the
temple, but since resettling in Australia, I have
become very busy, and now seldom go; moreover, the
temple is far from my home. I feel rather guilty
about this, because of my upbringing, but some of my
friends tell me not to worry, saying it is not
necessary to go to the temple, and that I can
practice at home. Should I take their advice?"
ANSWER:
Not long ago, two Jehovah’s Witnesses ladies came to
my door, so I invited them in for a discussion,
during which, they asked me which religion I
followed. I replied: "My religion is Life. Have you
heard of that one?" "Yes, I think so", one of them
answered hesitantly, and then asked: "How many
people are there in your organization?" "Oh,
everyone’s in it", I said, "It’s worldwide!"
Shortly after the Gulf War, I heard on
the radio that the Pope had severely criticized
Saudi Arabia as one of the few countries to prohibit
Christians from practicing their religion there.
"Interesting", I thought; "I wonder what he means by
‘practicing their religion’?—the mere external
observances, like going to church on Sundays in
one’s best clothes, lighting candles, kneeling down
to pray, putting money in the donation box, etc., or
the actual application of religious principles in
one’s daily life?" The first necessitates special
buildings, priests, ritual, liturgy, and so on,
while the second needs no props or theatrical
backdrops, as any person has, within himself, all
that is required for practical religious living.
So, maybe Saudi Arabia—being the Holy
Land of Islam—doesn’t allow the ostentatious aspects
of Christianity, like churches, holy days,
ceremonies, etc., but does it ban the actual
practice of the teachings of Jesus, as exemplified
in the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke10:29-37)?
When someone asked Jesus: "Who is my neighbor?", he
responded by telling a story about a man who was
attacked and robbed by thieves while he was on a
journey, and left lying bleeding and semi-conscious
at the roadside. A few minutes later, a priest from
the temple came down the road and saw him lying
there, but ignored him, and continued on his way.
Shortly after, another man came along—a scholar of
the scriptures—and seeing the man lying there, went
over for a closer look; then, his curiosity
satisfied, he also went on his way. The third person
to pass that way was a foreigner in that land, and
of a different religion than the people therein, but
when he saw the wounded man lying there, he felt
compassion, and went over to render him assistance.
Tearing strips from his clothes, he bandaged his
wounds and gently helped him to mount his horse;
taking him to a wayside inn, he gave the innkeeper a
sum of money, and instructions to take care of the
injured man, saying that if it were insufficient, he
would pay him more when he next came that way. Jesus
asked his questioner: "Which of the three men who
passed by was the neighbor to the one who had been
robbed and wounded?" The man replied, of course:
"The one who took pity on him".
If Christians will help only other
Christians, or Buddhists only other Buddhists, what
kind of Christians or Buddhists are they? It
dismayed me to see hordes of missionaries flocking
to the Refugee Camps of South-East Asia, with loads
of ‘gifts’ and aid for the refugees—with the obvious
if unstated aim of using their gifts and aid to
‘catch fish’. Sad to say, many refugees succumbed to
their wiles, but would Jesus, I wonder, have
approved of their methods? This kind of activity
only makes religion meaningless, and instead of
taking a stand against the corruption and immorality
of society, religion thereby promotes it!
Missionaries of the countless sects are more
concerned with getting more followers—by any means
they can devise—than in the quality of them.
Many Buddhists say: "It’s not necessary
to go to the temple; I can practice at home", by
which they usually mean offering incense to their
Buddha image twice a day—and that is the extent of
their practice. The Dharma, to such people, has
about as much meaning as a diamond to a dog!
On the surface, there is little
difference between religions; all have sets of
formalities, which most people observe mechanically,
not understanding. Few followers of any religion
bother to investigate and find what—if anything—the
formalities mean. Is Buddhism simply a matter of
offering incense to an image? We have reduced things
to mere formalism; the form has become more
important than the meaning, confirming the words of
St. Paul in the Bible (2 Corinthians, 3:6): "The
letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life".
If we really understood what the Buddha
taught, it would be true to say that it is not
necessary to go to the temple, and that one can
practice at home. Until that time, however, the
temple is important as a place where people might
learn something of the Buddha’s Way (I say might
here, because it’s not sure, as many temples are now
merely places of ceremony and provide no instruction
for anyone). The same could be said, I think, of
Christians and churches: if Christians understood
what Jesus taught, there would be no need to go to
church, for they are the church themselves.
Of course, the Pope promotes the
formalities of religion, for he is the very epitome
of them, and his position and power depend upon
them. This is why Martin Luther, who was himself a
Catholic monk, launched the Protestant Reformation
movement and broke with Rome—a break that remains
until now. Not surprisingly, Protestantism also
became institutionalized; it happens to all
movements which claim the monopoly of Truth.
To return to my Jehovah’s Witnesses
visitors: I said to them: "In one way, I admire you
for going from house-to-house, as I imagine you get
plenty of rebuffs and insults, and many people would
hate you for it". "Yes, that’s true", they said,
"just as the Bible said it would be". "In another
way, though", I went on, "I think you’ve got a
nerve, intruding on people’s privacy. If people want
to know about your way, it’s not difficult to find
you. How would you like it if people of other
religions went to your homes to talk to you about
their beliefs? What if I went to your house to talk
about religion?" "Alright; welcome", one of them
said. "So, would you give me your name and
address?", I said, reaching for paper and pen.
Looking for a way out of my trap, she then said:
"But only if you come alone, and don’t bring anyone
with you". "Ah, so you place conditions on it, do
you? You notice that I made no conditions
when you came here to visit me with your friend, did
I?" End of dialogue.
QUESTION:
"My mind is troubled, as I have done
many things in the past that I now regret. How can I
put them down, and find peace-of-mind?"
ANSWER:
You
desire to be free?
Then you must first know
the nature of the prison that confines you,
and also who holds the key.
The
prison is Ignorance, old and strong.
Our minds are filled with wrong ideas
that have taken root there,
and grown big and firm,
crowding out the good and the right,
so that the mind has become dark and fearful.
Prejudice from the past engulfs us,
and we cannot see our way
through this world of foolishness, strife and pain.
The key
to unlock this fortress-prison is Wisdom;
this is the antidote to the poison of Ignorance.
But where is it?
Covered over, lost and forgotten
in the tangled jungle of the mind.
Search for it, and you might find it;
it is there.
No-one
has greater capacity to help or hinder,
curse or bless us, than we ourselves.
Our mind can be our best friend,
or our worst enemy.
No-one causes us to suffer as much as does
our own mind.
Everywhere, and at all times,
people search for happiness, but few find it,
because they are unaware that happiness—
and unhappiness, too—
are results of the way we live our lives.
The causes of happiness are unknown,
unobserved,
neglected, discarded.
It is like a man standing in a field
wherein he has sown no seed,
expecting a harvest therefrom.
How could it be?
Many
people spend their lives running away:
running away from pain, or chasing after pleasure.
Both ways are rather useless,
and often result in more pain.
Stop a while; cease your running;
be still, be quiet, and you might see;
for while you are running, how shall you see?
Everything becomes blurred.
What we are seeking is not as far away
as we think it is.
Who has
not done things that should
not have been done,
or neglected to do things that should
Have been done?
Not everyone feels remorse for this.
Human beings seem to be the only ones—
as far as we can tell—
that feel remorse, and the desire
to atone for their mistakes;
animals have no such capacity, have they?
Now, although remorse is uncomfortable,
it is the mind’s way of helping us
to change direction—
from living negatively and selfishly,
to living positively and responsibly.
Thus we are rescued,
and able to begin anew.
Is it not a cause for rejoicing
that you found the way out?
You might have continued like that
indefinitely.
Which,
now, seems better to you?
You have lost your chains:
are you going to complain of the places
where they rubbed you raw,
or would you like to wear again the chains?
The sores will heal, in time.
In time, too, having known
both bondage and freedom,
you will find ways to help others
who are still held captive;
as yet, you know not your own capacity.
Know,
however, that just as everything
has a price,
so freedom is not free.
Are you prepared to pay for it?
And what will you do with it when you have it?
It comes twinned with responsibility,
and is not for you alone,
to do with just whatever you like;
no, it must be used carefully, wisely,
in the world you share with others.
And thus, even so,
you may unburden yourself of your past.
Be in Peace!
|
THE WHOLE CONTAINS THE PARTS |
QUESTION:
"What is the difference between the Law
of Cause-and-Effect and the Law of Karma?"
ANSWER:
Very often, they are taken to be
one-and-the-same-thing, but actually, they are not,
and it is useful to clarify this, and some other
points of misunderstanding in this area. I should
stress, however, before beginning, that this is not
meant to be an exhaustive analysis of this subject,
which would take an entire book, even if it were
within my capacity. But I undertake it in order to
try to dispel certain myths and misrepresentations.
The Constitution of a nation consists of
many laws, no single one of which is the
Constitution. Similarly, the Law of Cause and Effect
is the Law of Karma, but is much more, too; the Law
of Karma is not the Law of Cause-and-Effect in its
entirety—i.e. the Law of Cause-and-Effect is greater
than, and includes the other. And so, when
translating the Law of Karma as the Law of
Cause-and-Effect, we must qualify it by saying that
it is the Law of Cause-and-Effect in the moral
realm or the realm of intentional action,
as that is the only realm where it applies. It does
not apply to inanimate objects, nor to beings who
lack the capacity to reason and make moral choices.
These latter, and everything that is, however, are
governed by the Law of Cause-and-Effect.
First of all, the word Karma is
Sanskrit, and means ‘intentional action’ or
‘premeditated action’, not involuntary or
unintentional action. It does not mean the result of
action, which is the sense in which many people use
it today, saying things like: "Oh, it’s my karma!
What can I do about it?!"
Some people might say—and it is their
prerogative to say, of course, which we must
respect—that the Law of Karma is just supposition,
with no empirical evidence to support it. Alright
then, let us treat is as a hypothesis—that is, not
as something already proved, but as an idea worth
considering.
By this hypothesis, Hinduism, Buddhism
and Jainism—all Indian in origin—explain the
differences and discrepancies between people: why
some are born into rich families, and others into
poor; why some are healthy, and others sickly; why
some are beautiful, intelligent, famous, etc., while
others are not. According to the hypothesized Law of
Karma, these and other conditions—upon which
happiness and sorrow largely depend—are not
accidents or ‘twists of Fate’, but results of
actions that people have performed in this or
previous lifetimes (but this is another hypothesis).
Well, we can see that actions do
have results or reactions, immediately; there is no
question about this. Not everyone would agree,
however, that they return to us in the form of
happiness and unhappiness. Therefore, we dare not
make any definitive statements about this,
otherwise, we shall be on as shaky ground as those
who attribute everything to ‘God’s will’. If the
concept helps us to accept and deal with life, it is
useful, but if we find it hard to accept, there is
no compulsion to do so; it is not a dogma, and we
can live quite responsibly without it; we don’t
always need ‘a carrot on a stick’.
Anyway, let us continue investigating
the hypothesis. It is found not only in Indian
religions. Even in the Christian Bible—where we
would not really expect to find it, as it has been
replaced by the overwhelming emphasis on ‘vicarious
atonement’ (forgiveness of sins and salvation by
belief in Jesus)—there are references to it. In
Matthew (7:16), Jesus says: "By their fruits you
will know them. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or
figs of thistles?" And the words of St. Paul
(Galatians 6:7) are often used even by some
Buddhists when speaking of the Law of Karma:
"Whatsoever a man sows, that shall he also reap".
But we should take care with such quotations as the
latter, or we might lead people into fatalism and
complacency, instead of helping them develop the
strength and self-reliance that comes through
understanding things clearly.
So, why is the above quotation to be
treated with reservation? Well, let us follow the
image it employs—that of sowing and reaping. It
involves two aspects of time: the present, when
seeds are sown, and the future, when the harvest is
reaped. Now, can we say, with certainty, that every
seed we sow will grow and come to fruition, as
Paul’s words imply? No, we cannot, and would be very
surprised if even 70 or 80 percent of them did,
would we not? It is not impossible that all of them
would grow, of course, but it is highly unlikely.
Although we might take great care of the seeds we
have planted—watering, fertilizing and protecting
them from the birds, etc.—there are other factors
involved over which we have little or no control;
therefore, we cannot predict the exact outcome of
our sowing, and there is a little proverb in support
of this: Don’t count your chickens before they
hatch.
We can put it clearer than Paul did:
As you reap, that you have sown. Same words,
different format. We can easily understand that the
fruit we eat has come from seeds in the past, while
the seeds in the fruit we are eating now will surely
never grow and bear fruit if we cut them or chew
them up. We can look back from the present to the
past, but not forward from the present to the
future.
We are using seeds and fruit here as an
analogy for our actions and their results, in line
with the hypothesis that ‘good produces good, and
evil produces evil’. It is not sure that we shall
get back, in direct proportion, the results of our
actions. Sometimes, we get more—as when we sow wheat
or rice, and get back many grains for each grain
sown (there would be no point in sowing if one grain
sown produced just one grain grown, would
there?)—and sometimes we get less—as when we expend
much time and labor in the garden, but with a poor
result; and sometimes, we get nothing, like if we
were to plant beans that had been cooked. Much work
is required for a productive garden, but weeds
flourish by themselves.
Now, suppose you offend or hurt someone.
Would you think: "Well, I’ve done it now, and it’s
already in the past, so I’ll have to get the result,
as I can’t change it"? If you felt remorse for your
action and apologized, that might make a lot of
difference, and could result in forgiveness and
prevent that person from taking revenge upon you.
Yes, we can correct many of our negative actions
with positive ones, just as we wash our dirty
clothes to make them clean, or just as Iraq’s SCUD
missiles were intercepted and destroyed by the
Patriot missiles of the U.S. Unfortunately, our
efforts to correct negative actions with positive
ones are seldom as accurate as the Patriot missiles,
as we lack radar, and cannot tell when the fruits of
negative actions are about to appear. Nevertheless,
for our own peace of mind in the present, it is good
to try to atone for our unskillful actions, even if
we can’t always prevent reactions.
Misunderstanding about the Buddha’s
doctrine of Karma, some Buddhists become so
fatalistic that they are convinced that whatever
happens to them is directly the result of something
they have done before. This is like thinking, "I
must have been a mosquito in a previous lifetime,
and went around biting people, as I’ve been bitten
by so many mozzies in this lifetime!"
If we suppose that we are born because
of Karma, then everything that happens to us
thereafter is, directly or indirectly, due to Karma,
because if we had no body, nothing could happen to
us. But it is incorrect to attribute every little
thing to some specific cause, as one cause produces
not just one effect, neither is an effect produced
by just one cause. Fire, for example, can be used to
cook food, but at the same time it would blacken the
pans, warm the house, produce ash and smoke, and—if
we were not careful—burn us. All of these effects
would be produced by the fire. But the fire, which
causes such things, is also an effect—in turn—of
many other things, is it not? Indeed, if we were to
look for a first cause of anything—an excellent
exercise to try in one’s leisure time—we would
search and search until we would realize that the
whole universe is involved in it, and still would
not have found the beginning! There are many things
involved in each cause, and in each effect, as I
have shown above. Each cause is not merely a cause,
but also an effect; they cannot be separated or
defined as just one or the other, but are both, at
the same time.
Some years ago, I came upon a pamphlet
entitled: THE BUDDHA SPEAKS THE SUTRA ON
CAUSE-AND-EFFECT IN THE THREE PERIODS OF TIME.
I would like to comment on it, as it is a spurious
‘Sutra’ that has the potential to mislead people and
give others the wrong impression of Buddhism. (The
Sanskrit word ‘sutra’ means a religious discourse or
sermon). This so-called ‘Sutra’ describes the Buddha
preaching the Dharma to 1,250 monks on top of ‘Magic
Mountain’. Well, the only ‘Magic Mountain’ I know of
is an alternative to Disneyland north of Los
Angeles, and it wasn’t there while the Buddha was
alive, so it couldn’t have been that one! It
goes on to give Ananda asking the Buddha to explain
the discrepancies between human beings, as if he—and
the 1,250 assembled monks, who were all supposed to
be enlightened already—had never heard the Buddha
speak about this before. Well, the Buddha’s doctrine
of Karma is already clearly implied in His very
first sermon, when He revealed the Four Noble
Truths, and formed an important part of His
teachings thereafter, long before He had
1,250 monk disciples! We cannot, for a moment,
imagine that Ananda, who had a photographic memory,
was ignorant of this!
Here are some verses from this ‘sutra’,
which clearly show why it is spurious:
"Why are some people officials at
present? Because they gilded the Buddhas with gold
in their past lives, long ago.
"Why are some people wearers of satin?
This is because in times in the past, they gave
gifts of robes to the Sangha.
"The well-to-do among us dwell in very
tall mansions and vast estates. The reason is they
gladly gave rice, lavishing gifts of grain on
monasteries.
"Some people’s features are fine and
perfect. Surely, the reason for such rewards is that
they offered beautiful flowers to the Buddhas.
"Why are some people gifted and wise? In
former lives they ate pure food, and remembered the
Buddha with grateful regard.
"Orphans must live without fathers and
mothers since before, they shot down birds for
sport.
"In raising children, some really fail
badly; it’s because they drowned female infants.
"Bright are the eyes of some fortunate
beings; they offered lamps filled with oil before
Buddhas.
"The blind of this world bear a heavy
burden for past failure to tell the way clearly to
travelers.
"Some people’s mouths are very
misshapen; they blew out lamps on the Buddha’s
altars.
"How do people get to be hunchbacks?
They berated and laughed at those bowing to Buddhas.
"Most cows and horses were human
before—people who didn’t settle their debts.
"Death by starvation: due retribution
for stopping up holes of rats and snakes.
"The stature of some is extremely short.
Before, they read sutras spread out on the floor.
"Vomiting blood? Believe it’s from first
eating meat, then reciting the sutras.
"People who reek with a terrible stench
sold inferior scents and phony goods."
It goes on to say, in threatening tones:
"Those who slander the cause-and-effect in this
Sutra will fall, and have no chance to be human",
while "Those who uphold this Sutra are supported by
Buddhas and Bodhisattvas." So, it is better to
"Write out this Sutra, study it hard, and in the
future your families will flourish. Uphold this
Sutra atop your heads to avert disasters and fatal
accidents. Print and distribute this precious Sutra,
and reap rebirth as a ruler or king", and so
on.......
Now, how can we help but read such stuff
without skepticism? It’s a joke! You cannot give
people things like this these days; it is just too
silly and offensive to reason! Not to be too biased,
though, we can see how, centuries ago, it could have
been used as a technique to scare or trick
illiterate peasants into moral living. But the
problem with such techniques is that, like wet
cement, they harden and become dogmas, which,
instead of helping, only further bind or alienate
people.
In another way, it smells very strongly
of priest-craft, with its emphasis on making
offerings to the Buddhas and the monks; Buddhism
was/is not exempt from this, unfortunately. To
mention just one example here, to show how it is
very much still with us: In Penang, there is a
temple with a large image of the Buddha in a
reclining posture; it is frequented by many local
Buddhists, as well as being on the list for foreign
tourists to visit. Unless it has changed in the last
few years (and I’m not aware it has), around this
image are numerous other images, each with a
donation box before it bearing inscriptions like:
"If you pray to this Buddha, you will be happy"; "If
you pray to this Buddha, you will be lucky"; "If you
pray to this Buddha, you will be wise"; "If you pray
to this Buddha, God will bless you", and so on—all
nonsense! I once counted at least forty donation
boxes (as well as ‘fortune telling’ machines!)
around the main image. Now, gullible people (of
which there is no shortage in the world), eager for
happiness, blessings, luck, etc., would probably put
money in each box, and those who installed the boxes
would rub their hands gleefully. But what impression
would foreign visitors get of Buddhism thereby?
Perhaps they would go there with open minds, not
unsympathetic towards Buddhism, but could be excused
for thinking of it as a thing of superstition, greed
and exploitation!
With just a little intelligence, anyone
can see, from the words of this ‘sutra’, that it was
never spoken by the Buddha. And why not? Because,
while the Buddha was alive, there were no Buddha
images (He did not allow them). For several hundred
years after He passed away, He was represented by
symbols like a Bodhi tree, a Swastika, a royal
parasol or a Dharma wheel, as can be seen on the
carvings of the Great Stupa at Sanchi in India and
other places. It was only much later that He was
first represented by an image.
There were no Buddha altars in the
Buddha’s time, so no-one could blow out oil lamps on
them. There were no sutras to be read out (on the
floor or otherwise), copied, carried on one’s head,
etc.; the Buddhist scriptures were not written down
until 500 years after the Buddha’s death. The Buddha
could not have said these things, therefore.
And, to say that He was referring to times long
before, when other Buddhas were alive, doesn’t help,
either.
I once wrote to the City of
Ten-Thousand Buddhas in California where this
particular ‘sutra’—printed in English and
Chinese—had come from, asking, simply, for the
original Sanskrit name (the Chinese versions of the
Buddha’s sermons were translated from Sanskrit, not
Pali), but received no reply; perhaps they
considered my request unworthy of one. Let me say,
however, that we should be very careful about
writings that seem to explain everything; following
the Buddha’s advice, we should examine things
critically, instead of just believing them.
It might seem that I’ve rambled on a bit
in my reply to the question, but I do not apologize
for this, as it has allowed me to touch on several
related points. But let me return to the question,
before someone complains of my meanderings.
The great Law of Cause-and-Effect that
rules all, has five modes of manifestation; that is,
it is made up of five lesser laws, one of which is
the Law of Karma. The others I will quote from Ven.
Narada’s book, The Buddha and His Teachings:
"Utu Niyama: Physical inorganic
order, e.g., seasonal phenomena of winds and rains,
the unerring order of seasons, characteristic
seasonal changes and events, causes of winds and
rains, nature of heat, etc., belong to this group.
"Bija Niyama: Order of germs and
seeds (Physical organic order), e.g., rice produced
from rice seed, sugary taste from sugar cane or
honey, and the peculiar characteristics of certain
fruits. The scientific theory of cells and genes may
be ascribed to this order.
"Dhamma Niyama: Order of the
norm, e.g., the natural phenomena occurring at the
birth of a Bodhisattva in his last birth. Gravity
and other similar laws of nature may be included in
this group.
"Citta Niyama: Order of mind or
psychic law, e.g. processes of consciousness,
constituents of consciousness, power of mind,
including telepathy, retro-cognition, premonition,
clairvoyance, clairaudience, thought-reading, and
other such psychic phenomena, which are inexplicable
to modern science."
Venerable Narada goes on to say:
"Every mental or physical phenomena could be
explained by these all-embracing five orders or
processes which are laws in themselves. Karma, as
such, is only one of these five orders. Like all
natural laws, they demand no law-giver."
And so, although our hypothesis remains
a hypothesis, hopefully I have clarified the matter
somewhat. More than this, though, I hope I have
hereby stimulated someone to question things more,
instead of merely believing.
QUESTION:
"How come, if the Buddha was so
powerful, did He suffer from dysentery and die soon
afterwards? Should He not have been able to prolong
His life indefinitely?"
ANSWER:
There is so much misunderstanding about
the person of the Buddha—as about any great
Teacher—about His power and His capacity to help
others, and this misunderstanding inhibits and
impedes our efforts to follow the Way. Not
surprisingly, soon after the Buddha had passed away
and wasn’t around to discourage it, the tendency to
deify Him set in, and He was transformed from a
human being to a ‘superman’/‘savior-in-the-sky’ kind
of figure, who was expected to respond to prayers
and supplications, to bless, help and save, in
direct contravention of what He had taught.
As time passed and the movement He had
started spread, His Teachings were modified to make
them more acceptable to the masses; perhaps it was
felt necessary to do this, or maybe it is natural
for it to happen, but we can see now, looking back,
that quality was thereby sacrificed to quantity, and
the Teachings were diluted, similar to the way that
cordial is diluted to make it drinkable; straight
from the bottle, it is too strong to drink, and
water must be added, but if too much water is added,
it loses its flavor. And so, over the ages, things
alien to the Buddha’s simple message—that each
person must work out his own salvation—have crept
in, and many people have accepted them as the
authentic Teachings of the Buddha.
Several years ago, there was a
documentary on TV about a Vietnamese doctor who had
recently arrived in Australia, and, because his
qualifications were not valid there, was studying to
re-qualify. Due to a number of factors, however—not
the least of them the language, no doubt—he was
undergoing some hardship.
The camera followed and filmed him in
several places, including a temple, where he was
shown burning incense. Later, he was asked whether
or not he had any guilt-feelings over the fact that
he had survived the escape from Vietnam by boat,
while so many others had perished in the attempt. He
replied that he did, and added that he thought the
Buddha did not give everyone equal chances.
Such thinking—of endowing the Buddha
with power to help and save, reward or punish, show
favoritism or partiality—though quite common, is
erroneous. In this case, here was a man highly
educated in a specialized area, but quite ignorant
in another, an area in which a little bit of time
and effort spent investigating would have made
things so much clearer.
Today, Philosophy—"the study (or love)
of Wisdom", a most essential quality—is considered,
by many, as something abstract and obsolete in our
practical and so-materialistic world (I recall how
I looked upon philosophy class in high
school!). But it is not so, and although few people
value it, it has not lost its importance. Indeed,
though many people might not be aware of it, most,
if not all of us, have a philosophy of life
of some sort or other—Hedonism, or "Eat, drink and
be merry, for tomorrow we die", seeming to be the
dominant philosophy of great masses of people today,
or "I’m alright, mate; I don’t care about you". And
even a thief has a philosophy: "Steal, and grow
rich, without working for it" (not a few of our
prominent leaders and politicians seem to subscribe
to that one!) But whether such thinking
deserves the name of philosophy is rather
debatable.......
In treating a sickness, a doctor has
first to acknowledge its existence, then analyze and
diagnose it; only then can he begin to effectively
treat it. It would be a waste of time complaining
that life is not fair and doesn’t give people equal
chances, because we can all see the manifold
inequalities of life all around us—rich and poor,
high and low, sickly and healthy, beautiful and
ugly, intelligent and dull, etc., and all the
gradations in between—even though the causes of such
are obscure. They are facts, and if we are to deal
with them at all, this is where we must begin, and
not by wishing them to be otherwise, or by blaming
someone or something else.
The Buddha does not come into the
picture here; He is not responsible for what happens
to us, and should not be praised, blamed, or
implicated in any way. According to the records we
have of His Teachings, He said that each of us has
his/her own individual karma, meaning that, somehow,
whatever we experience, is of our own making,
directly or indirectly, and, like an airplane ticket
issued in one’s name, is non-transferable. Our
present situation, therefore, whatever it is, and
whether we like it or not, should be accepted for
what it is and assessed, to see what can be made of
it, and where we can go from here. If it is
unpleasant, we should examine it to discover—if
possible —its main causes, causes which it would be
wise to avoid in the future. If it is pleasant, its
causes should be ascertained, for possible
reproduction of the same effect. In any case, praise
or blame of another for whatever happens to us is
not in order; we should accept, assess, and go on.
Acceptance, here, however, does not imply
complacency or resignation to ‘Fate’, for we can
work to change and overcome the things we dislike.
It is an approach like that of a doctor when dealing
with disease, and this is why the Buddha is
sometimes known as "The Great Physician"; He
formulated His Four Noble Truths as a doctor would
diagnose and prescribe treatment for a disease.
Now, back to the question: "If the
Buddha was so powerful ....?" Well, in what way was
the Buddha powerful, and how did He get His power?
His was the power of Wisdom or Knowledge about the
basic nature of life, and it came to Him with
Enlightenment under the Bodhi tree. At first, He
thought that what He had found was so profound that
if He tried to teach people who were deeply
entangled in the emotional problems of life, no-one
would understand, and it would only be troublesome
for Him; so He decided to remain in the forest
alone, enjoying the bliss of Enlightenment, until He
passed away. But the books say that, as He was
thinking so, a voice spoke to Him, and some say that
it came from outside, while others say it came from
inside Him. We cannot say for sure where it came
from, and it doesn’t really matter anyway, but it
said: "There are some people with just a little dust
of Ignorance in their eyes. If they hear the Dharma,
they will understand, but not hearing it, they will
fall away and be lost". This persuaded Him to leave
His peaceful forest, and go out into the world to
teach.
During His long ministry of 45 years He
must have met many thousands of people, but we
shouldn’t think that everyone who had the good
fortune to meet Him became enlightened thereby, for
even with His great wisdom—by which He could
perceive people’s capacity to understand and teach
them accordingly—His power was still limited, and He
wasn’t able to help everyone, as some people
mistakenly think (and want). In those days, we must
realize, there were few forms of entertainment, and
the visit of a wandering teacher to a village or
town was an event—providing a welcome change from
the everyday life of work, eat and sleep—and people
would go to see such teachers—then, as now—for
different reasons; some because they had nothing
else to do, or to accompany family or friends; some
to see something unusual, maybe with hopes of seeing
miracles performed; some to make offerings and gain
merit thereby; some would even go to heckle or
debate or compare their knowledge with that of the
teacher; others, always only few, would go with the
sincere desire to learn something, and be uplifted.
But we can be sure that not everyone became
enlightened from meeting the Buddha; even in the
presence of a Buddha, that is not so easy, as the
story of the Buddha’s favorite disciple and personal
attendant, Ananda, illustrates.
It is said that Ananda was the same age
as his cousin, Prince Siddhartha, with whom he grew
up in the palace, and after Siddhartha’s
Enlightenment, Ananda also became a monk. And so,
when the Buddha was about to pass away at the age of
80, Ananda was also an old man. But, although he had
heard the Buddha preach and teach so many times, and
although he had an extremely retentive memory, he
was not yet enlightened, and as the Buddha lay there
on His death-bed, Ananda was overcome by grief and
went aside to weep. The Buddha called for him and
consoled him, saying: "Enough, Ananda, do not weep,
do not grieve, for have I not told you, so many
times and in so many ways, that all that is born
must die? How can it be otherwise that this body of
mine, having been born, should not die? It is in the
nature of things that, having come into being, they
age, decay, and pass away. All things are
impermanent. Work out your own salvation with
diligence". And with those words, He passed away.
From this, we can see that mere
intellectual understanding does not produce
Enlightenment. We can easily understand,
intellectually, that all that is born must die;
there is no mystery in this. But we do not perceive
it intuitively, by wisdom, and so it does not have a
deep and transforming effect upon us; therefore we
continue to look for teachers to impart secret and
esoteric knowledge to us, until finally, we must
return to ourselves to find what, in one way, we
have always known, but never really understood.
So, back again and finally, to the
question that started all this: We really must
examine it, because, as with many questions, we
might find the answer therein. Or, we might find, as
with this question, that it has no meaning.
How come? Well, to talk of the birth or death of a
Buddha is a contradiction in terms, because a Buddha
is not born, and so does not/cannot die. A play on
words? No, a clarification, and one that makes a
great deal of difference. The person born in
Lumbini Garden (the spot is marked by a pillar
erected by Emperor Ashoka two-and-a-half
centuries later), in Northern India, was a Prince
named Siddhartha Gotama, the son of a provincial
ruler. Buddhists say that, at this time, he was a ‘Bodhisattva’,
which means ‘an aspirant to Buddhahood’; he was not
yet fully Enlightened, and so was not a Buddha;
therefore, we cannot talk of ‘the birth of the
Buddha’. He became a Buddha upon Enlightenment at
the age of 35, Enlightenment being a state of mind,
as is happiness or sadness; it is not a physical
condition.
Now, what is born must die; what is not
born, cannot die. The body of the Buddha was born,
so naturally, it died, like every other body has or
will. But the Buddha, having reached the Deathless
state of Nirvana, did not die. So, the question: "If
the Buddha was so powerful, why did He die?" simply
does not arise.
We must be careful not to think of the
Buddha as omniscient or omnipotent, because He was
not; that is just our projection, supposition,
belief, or wishful thinking. If the power of the
Buddha’s wisdom, love and compassion could protect
us from sickness and misfortune, we would all be
eternally healthy and happy; but it is inadvisable
to depend upon the goodwill of the Buddha, or of
anyone else; His body, like ours, was subject to
natural laws. Instead of praying and hoping that He
will help us, we should follow His last advice, and
"Work out your own salvation, with diligence".
QUESTION:
"I have a son who drinks a lot, and I’m
worried about this, as he also drives while under
the influence; I’m afraid he will have an accident
and be killed or maimed, or—even worse—that he will
kill or maim someone else. As soon as he comes home
from work, he starts to drink. His father is dead,
and he will not listen to me. I love my son. Is
there anything I can do?"
ANSWER:
You are justified in your concern; it
is, indeed, something to be concerned about.
We live in a hypocritical age, do we
not? On one hand, we have anti-drug laws (with the
death sentence meted out in some countries for
possession of and dealing in illicit drugs), while
on the other hand, alcohol—which is responsible for
far more suffering and death than other addictive
drugs (as it is more widely used and abused)—is
socially acceptable; it also brings in huge revenues
for governments. If it were something new, and had
not the sanction of time, it would be banned. As
time passes, however, and people get used to the
newcomer, acceptance follows, and gradually, it
loses its social stigma. Efforts to control use of
even ‘soft’ drugs like marijuana have had little
success worldwide; indeed, it seems that, in spite
of —or maybe even because of—such efforts,
its use continues to spread; maybe it is like the
‘forbidden fruit’ in the old myth about Adam and
Eve: in spite of the abundance of other good things
to eat, the one thing that they were expressly
forbidden to touch seemed to them the most
appealing.
Right now, in Australia—so I’ve heard,
though how far it is true or not, I can’t say—a full
grown marijuana plant has a street value of about
A$1,000—and it’s just a weed that grows very easily!
What an incentive to cultivate it! Crops of it
valued at millions of dollars are seized and burned,
but the risks of being caught and charged are far
outweighed by the possible fortunes to be made. Why
does society place such preposterous value on weeds?
The widespread use of drugs today is a sure sign
that our world is spiritually at low ebb; we have
placed our confidence wholly in the material side of
life, and it has failed to deliver what we
seek—happiness and satisfaction —because these
things, of course, are spiritual in nature, not
material. Thus, many people, hating the monotony of
their daily lives, and having no spiritual resources
to fall back upon, look for a ‘quick fix’, but it is
no answer at all, and only further complicates
things.
In the ‘Thirties, spurred on by
Christian fundamentalism, the US government tried to
combat declining morals and alcohol abuse by banning
alcohol completely, but this had the opposite effect
to the one desired, and caused a dramatic increase
in organized crime and ‘boot-legging’. When the ban
was finally repealed, the damage done was
irreversible, and the crime syndicates looked around
for other means of easy profits. They found them in
narcotics; hence the drug scourge of the Western
world today.
It is easy to become addicted as we are
creatures of habit; indeed, if we were to examine
ourselves, we would probably find that most of us
are addicted to something or other, to some degree.
If we understood just how much we function by habit,
we would be more than halfway to overcoming negative
habits (if we wanted to overcome them, that
is; in many cases, we don’t want to, because they
are often pleasant and enjoyable). I mean, just
watch yourself from the time you wake up and start
your day: What do you do first, and how do you do
it? If you are in your normal surroundings, you will
almost certainly do things in a routine manner,
starting, perhaps, by going to the toilet to relieve
yourself (or, as Americans euphemistically call it,
‘the restroom’ or ‘bathroom’, as if the words
‘toilet’ or ‘lavatory’ are unspeakable! I’ve even
heard some of them talk about their dogs ‘using the
restroom’! How far out can you get?!). You might
then brush your teeth, wash your face or shower,
comb your hair, etc., all according to your own
little system; do you know, right now, how you brush
your teeth, for example? Without a toothbrush in
your hand, you might not be able to recall, but you
probably do it in exactly the same way every
morning. Some people start the day with a cigarette,
or a cup of tea/coffee, and couldn’t imagine doing
it any other way.
It’s amazing how many things we carry
out, by habit or routine, in daily life; it is as if
we act by ‘automatic pilot’, while our minds are
elsewhere. If, however, we are in a different
environment than the one we are used to—like when on
vacation or staying in a hotel or with friends—we
feel somewhat disorientated, and our habits are put
under stress, so it takes a while to adjust to the
unfamiliar situation (something like jet-lag), and
we might be unable to do things as usual. Some of us
have very defined times about defecating—let’s not
be coy about this; it is a perfectly normal and
natural function that we all perform—and if we do
not ‘go’ at our regular time, we might be unable
to ‘go’, and the whole day is disrupted thereby. But
if we stay with friends or strangers, we must
consider their routines—as they have them,
too—and try not to occupy the toilet/bathroom when
they might need to be there. We may not be very
happy about making some adjustment to our routine,
but we do it anyway, as we have no choice.
Does not our functioning by routine and
the discomfort we feel at the disruption thereof,
reveal a proclivity to addiction? And it is not only
to drugs, alcohol, tobacco, and such that we become
addicted—that is, psychologically dependent on—but
even upon things so ‘low’ as defecating regularly. I
apologize for being so crude about it, but we are
speaking of something that causes so much
suffering—addiction—so we cannot afford to mince
words about it.
Most drug addicts would like to ‘kick
the habit’—at times, at least—but lack the will
power to do so; thus, their suffering goes on. If we
knew more about the mechanics of addiction, it would
certainly help. As I have tried to show by the
toilet example above, addiction is more mental than
physical—that is, we cause it to ourselves. Can it
be broken? The answer is yes, if the addict has
sufficient incentive to do so, if he/she comes to
see how stupid it is to depend upon things like
alcohol, tobacco, etc., and if there is something to
fill the vacuum that withdrawal would create;
without the substitute, it is doubtful the
withdrawal would last long.
The media campaigns about drink driving
and its consequences have had some remarkable and
laudable results. The number of road casualties,
compared with earlier, is down considerably, but we
still have a long way to go. There is danger that we
will get used to the graphic and gory details of
twisted and mangled bodies being pulled from smashed
cars or lying on operating tables, of mothers and
lovers grieving inconsolably over their dead.
Increasing evidence indicates that the more we are
exposed to violence, crime and bloodshed—even if
it’s only on TV—the more we become inured to it;
it’s like developing calluses on our hands from
repeated manual labor. Must something terrible
really happen to us, personally, before we think
about using our common sense?
I am not speaking merely of what I have
observed in others when I say that alcohol befuddles
the brain and causes us to do and say stupid and
undignified things that otherwise we probably would
not do. I used to drink to the point of drunkenness
myself, so I know what I’m talking about. But
alcohol is one of several things that I have no
regrets about giving up.
Some time ago, I went to a Vietnamese
doctor, and before examining me, he asked several
routine questions, including: "Do you drink?", "Do
you smoke?" I replied "No". Knowing something of the
life style of monks, he then said: "Oh, you are not
allowed to". "No", I said, "from choice. I don’t
want to drink or smoke". I have seen many
Vietnamese monks leave the monk hood and return to
lay-life (which is their right, of course), and they
leave behind not only the robe and their monk’s
name, but also their vegetarianism and abstinence
from alcohol, which seems to indicate—does it
not—that they observed such things only because it
was expected of them, instead of from deep personal
conviction. If/when we understand that something is
right, we try to follow it, without needing rules
for it. One ex-monk I knew used to boast that he
could drink twelve cans of beer without getting
drunk, but he lost so much of his dignity through
drinking that he thought nothing of beating his wife
up, even hitting her in the face and knocking her
down when she was just three weeks away from giving
birth to their second child! He later abandoned his
wife and kids to become a monk again.
Another man I knew, upon coming home
from work, before bathing and eating, ordered his
young son to bring him a drink, and the boy
obediently brought him a large measure of whiskey.
What kind of example did this man set his
impressionable son? It was planting seeds of a
similar habit in him. Later on, after his father
died, the son became a heroin addict.
Many people, fond of alcohol themselves,
try to persuade others to join them in this; "Just a
little", they say; "Only one". But one feels lonely
by itself, and looks for a companion, and then two
becomes three, and so on. Who can restrict
themselves to ‘just one drink’? An old Japanese
proverb puts it so:
"The man takes a drink.
The drink takes a drink.
The drink takes the man".
Among other things, this is what the
Buddha had to say about drinking alcohol:
"The layman who holds fast to the
Teachings will not be addicted to strong drink. He
will never invite anyone to drink, nor will he
approve of drinking in another, since he knows that
it all ends in madness. For, following upon
drunkenness, fools fall into vice, and induce others
to drink. Men should shun this haunt of evil, this
foolishness, in which only the witless find
delight".
The terminology of this might be rather
out-of-date, but the meaning certainly isn’t, and
not only people who call themselves ‘Buddhists’
would do well to consider it.
Are you still there, dear questioner?
Can you relate to what I have said? I have said it
in order to show that the cause of your complaint—our
complaint—is to be sought within us. But, you
may say: "It is my son who has the drinking problem,
not me". Really? If it is not your problem, too—and
mine—then why are you complaining about it, and why
am I writing about it? It is our problem—that
is, a community problem. How would you—or I,
or anyone—like to see someone near and dear
to them injured, crippled, mutilated or killed in a
car smash caused by a drunken driver? How would you
like to have to take care, for life, of someone who
has been maimed and unable to do anything for
him/herself? Put yourself in the place of the
deranged mother who has just seen her child lying
bloody and dead on the road, and imagine how she
feels: Would you like that to happen to you? Would
you like to be the cause of that to somebody else?
There is no need for answers, is there? There is
only need for thought and precaution before
something like that happens.
In order to be able to communicate with
your son, and perhaps help him with what is really
his addiction, you must be able to understand why
this sort of thing happens. You obviously love your
son, and love, together with intelligence, might
find a way to convince him to change his potentially
fatal habit. One way might be to draw him into the
practice of meditation, by which he could come to
see things clearer. You see, the mind is like a
camera, which cannot take clear pictures if it is
out of focus. With its natural tendency to wander,
it is hard enough to concentrate and keep the mind
clear without intoxicating it with alcohol. (Look at
the word ‘intoxicate’, too. What does it mean? It
means: To poison oneself!).
Some people are social drinkers—they
drink to be sociable —while others are compulsive
drinkers, having developed a habit that they
cannot/will not break. But there is hope, as the
anti-smoking campaign shows: until quite recently,
non-smokers had to put up with the noxious fumes of
the tobacco addicts—for such they are—and suffer in
silence; to have complained would have brought cries
of "What are you—a weirdo or
something?!" But now, public opinion has been
sufficiently aroused to bring about a change, and
smoking is banned in buses, trains, theaters, and
other public places. This is indeed a major
breakthrough, and will encourage people to be able
to resist the call to, "Have a drink, mate", and
say: "No, thanks; I don’t drink", or "Thanks, but
I’m driving". The campaign against
drinking-and-driving must be sustained and
intensified, not as a means of punishing offenders,
but more of prevention through education of the
public. Needless to say, we are facing a long and
hard task, since we have the wrong education of
millenniums to deal with and overcome, and because
people do not want to see and change their ways. But
it is a matter of reducing the senseless road
carnage, and not of curtailing people’s freedom.
If it seems that you will have little
success in your efforts, don’t let this prevent you
from trying; you are only one person, it is true,
but you are not alone, because all around you there
are people waking up to the fact that much of the
suffering we undergo is unnecessary and avoidable,
and who are looking for ways to change things. You
should know that you are not alone.
|
THE PHANTOM OF THE TEMPLE |
QUESTION:
"I’m rather ashamed to admit it, but all
my life I’ve been afraid of ghosts. I know it’s
irrational, but until now, I dare not sleep alone.
It is a problem that I would like to resolve. Are
there really ghosts, and can they harm us?"
ANSWER:
Although few people in urban society
today would admit to believing in ghosts—or at
least, to being scared of them—this class of
beings continues to fascinate us. More horror movies
are churned out today than ever, and many of them
are ridiculous in the extreme, but it does indicate
a big demand. Is it because daily life is so dull
and boring that people turn to the fantastic and
horrific for entertainment? Or is it because the
veneer of our civilization is very thin, and we have
not shaken off the fears and superstitions of our
primitive past? I must confess that when I was a
teenager, I used to enjoy such movies, too, but now
I marvel that I ever did so; is this evidence of my
evolution?
How strange we are! We seem to take a
perverse delight in being scared, as if the painful
realities of life are not already enough for us!
Does this imply a streak of masochism in us? There
are many things in our minds that we know little of!
At times, during a talk, I ask people if
they believe in ghosts or not, and many answer
‘Yes’. When I ask those who say ‘No’ if they would
go with me to a cemetery at night, however, there
are visible shudders and refusals, which shows that,
in spite of their stated disbelief, they actually
do believe in ghosts! We cannot disbelieve
something unless we first believe it!
Then I go further, and ask those who do
believe if they have ever seen a ghost. Almost
no-one says ‘Yes’. "So," I continue, "if you’ve
never seen a ghost, why do you believe? From where
did you get your ideas about ghosts? Probably, when
you were young, someone said things like: ‘Don’t go
outside at night; the ghosts will get you!’ Thus,
the idea of ghosts was implanted in your minds at a
very early age, and will probably stay
there—subconsciously, at least—until you die, even
though you might never see a ghost! Not only this,
but you might also transmit your fearful beliefs to
others!"
How peculiar it is; we are the victims
of fear, and surely do not feel good about it, but
think nothing of scaring others in the same way,
instead of helping them avoid things that we
ourselves found unpleasant! It is thoughtless and
stupid to scare little children with talk of ghosts
and bogey men! They need to be educated to
understand and see things clearly, instead of being
indoctrinated with baseless fears and cruel
superstitions.
Children are very impressionable; I was
no exception. While my elder brother took delight in
scaring me, my father was a wonderful yarn spinner,
and I loved to listen to his tales, especially at a
time when we did not yet have a TV set. I recall him
telling my younger brother and I about the time he
‘killed a gorgon’ (a gorgon was a monster of Greek
mythology, with a tangled mass of writhing snakes
instead of hair, at the sight of whose horrible
visage people were turned to stone; but at that
time, I imagined a gorgon to be some kind of
fearsome dragon or dinosaur). A few days later, in
school, the teacher spoke about heroes, and began by
asking the class: "Who knows what a hero is?"
Proudly, and without hesitation, I raised my hand
and said: "I know! My dad’s a hero! He killed a
gorgon!" The teacher was tactful, and the other kids
in the class were just as naïve and impressionable
as me, so no-one laughed, and I was left with my
illusion intact for a while.
I’m not saying there are no ghosts, but
wish to illustrate here how we come by our beliefs,
fears and superstitions from others, and adopt them
as our own without question (which is the same way
that most people get their religion. It was so—note
the past tense, please—in my own case).
I was born in a haunted house, so it was
easy for my elder brother to terrify me with ghost
talk. I was scared of the dark, and of the
disembodied footsteps that could at times be heard
climbing the stairs and going from room-to-room when
there was no-one there to make them; this happened
in broad daylight as well as at night, and our dogs
and cats would react visibly to it. One night, when
I was lying in bed with the light out, suddenly, in
the open doorway, something appeared. Whether it was
male or female, young, middle-aged or old, I
couldn’t tell, but it was man-sized, man-shaped and
like smoke —that is, it had no distinct outline or
features. Other than that, I remember nothing, as I
became petrified, unable to move, speak, or cry out.
Whether the specter—for such I am convinced it
was—was threatening or not, I cannot say, nor for
how long it remained there, for I was not aware of
time in that condition.
This was my first encounter with a
ghost, and the only time—as far as I know—that I’ve
seen one (although I suspect that ghosts do not
always appear as we imagine them to be). Some years
before my sighting—so she told me later—one of my
sisters, in the same room, too, had heard those
ominous footsteps coming up the stairs and turning
towards her room; but when the thing entered, she
had the presence of mind to cover herself with the
bedclothes, hardly daring to breathe. After what
seemed like an age, when nothing dreadful happened
to her, she slowly drew back the clothes and peeped
out, and it had gone.
I lived in that house for 18 years and
saw it only once, though I heard it many times. The
previous tenant had died there, and he was reputed
to have been a miser; maybe it was his ghost;
I don’t know.
Later, when I began to travel, I had to
confront my fear of ghosts and the dark, because
over the years, I have stayed in quite a few eerie
places, and seem to have some sensitivity about
places with an ‘atmosphere’.
I once spent several months in a temple
in Malaysia which was reputedly haunted, although I
didn’t know this when I first went to stay there;
but at that stage of my life, I was not worried
about having to stay all alone in the colonial era
mansion-turned-temple, which was locked up, from the
outside, when people went home at night. There were
all kinds of noises, of course, like the creaking of
timbers contracting from the drop in temperature,
birds, bats, mice and other things that could not be
identified. One night, however, there was a knock on
the door of my upstairs room, and someone called my
name, twice. Now, I knew there was no-one else in
the building, but got up and opened the door anyway.
No-one/nothing there. Perhaps it could be said I had
been dreaming or imagining things, but the same
thing happened on another occasion when two monks
from Sri Lanka were staying there. One was awoken by
a knock on his door and someone calling his name.
"Yes?" he said. No answer. He got up and opened the
door, but there was no-one there, so he crossed the
hallway and knocked on his friend’s door. "Yes?",
his friend said, "Wha