Yearbook 2009

Antaiji


Yushin (Italy, 57yo, Zen Master)


Lessons held at La Gendronnière, France, November 21th-22th-23th, during 2008’s ango

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Below you find only the last one of the six lessons, here http://u.nu/8f5j3 you can get them all (in PDF format)

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Part Six

-No cultural form can be smuggled as it were a religion

Even in the apprenticeship of things of the spirit, some degree of imitation is inevitable. Learning is a mix of imitation and creation. Suffice it to think of zazen. We imitate a physical, mental and spiritual position that has been handed down to us for two thousand five hundred years.

However, since each of us lives intimately a life always new and always different from that of the others, even this imitation is realized in the context of a creative process. From theory alone, nobody is certain that the process he is undertaking is the one that should be undertaken.

We know we are on the right path if the sights we see while we move ahead with our lives correspond to the descriptions of those that have already been through it, because they have walked before us long the same path. In this case the problem is to understand which part of the template we should imitate, because we cannot see it. One of the most common errors common because it seems to provide a shortcut –is to claim that we know very well the sights on which, in reality, we have not yet set our eyes, that we had been there many times, while, instead, we have only heard about them second hand, by books for instance.

In addition, out of dullness or of fascination for exotism and novelty, or, again, to appear we are “in”, sometimes we imitate a cultural or linguistic form. This is what is happening very often in the West. As a result we enter a world that we will find it difficult to abandon: a world where competition is fierce, where we are expected to attain forms of behavior that are ideal and therefore unattainable, oppressed by teachers who see it their task to highlight the mistakes that mark us out, poor beginner from them, the successful enlightened, simply because they do not have to confront the same difficulties as we do. Also, if we make this experience in a monastery and we have good teachers and good models to follow, we learn relatively easily how to manage, direct, and represent rituals and ceremonies in the usual manner, codified centuries ago.

But more difficult it is to learn the internal and external behavior that comes from the “left unsaid” or the implicit content of a mature and articulate culture that is different from ours.

This is a doctrine imparted in a high handed but alluring manner by someone whom we have the misfortune it must be said – to follow. Therefore, if our teachers, raised in and by a certain culture, fail to realize that they are first of all unique and inimitable human beings, and only in a second instance social animals, and are convinced that every expression of theirs, from their most intimate behavior to the social clichés, are in themselves the universal way in which Buddhism must be lived and transmitted, then we will be involved in a liturgical or cultural play, or in the imitation of a“style” fashioned by someone, while we are convinced to study and practice Buddhadharma.

This will be imitation and not re-creation, and it will lack the only “thing” that matters: the exercise of intimate freedom according to Buddha’s teachings. Even when this process at the beginning might produce a great satisfaction as a result of the success attained, which can be perceived and verified along the scales internal to this model, over the long run we will feel defrauded, marginalized, dominated and colonized.

We know since the very beginning that attaining a certain intimate and external behavior refined as it might be, and however many sacrifices we may have made to achieve it, does not provide a solution to our discomfort. And when we no longer can be blinded to this realization by mirroring ourselves in our petty and conceited successes, the sky seems to fall upon us.

Anne Cheng adds: «From whatever angle you may want to look at it – kinship system, religious practice, political organization – the thought of ancient China is characterized by a very strong taste for order, or, more exactly, for the process of putting in order, which is lifted to the rank of supreme good»1. Also: «The famous expression from Analects “subdue your own self and return to property”2 points to the need for a self-denying discipline aimed to tame man’s tendency to egocentrism and to internalize the humanity of one’s relationship with the others through rituals »3.

I strongly advise anyone who plans to study Buddhism as it is taught by Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, Cambodian and Japanese masters, or by Western masters who have been raised and trained by the above, to meditate in depth the meaning of these two latest quotes .

For Confucius and for almost all who for two thousand five hundred years have been raised in his culture, sacrificing one’s self, one’s own individuality and uniqueness to the ceremonial and ritual behavior constructed around the superior/inferior system of hierarchy, is the guiding principle because it complies with the li, 理, ri or kotowari in Japanese, that is “principle, the natural order of things”4. This entity, this li goes so deeply as to be in fact, the natural, spontaneous behavior, indeed the only valid behavior for the vast majority of people in the Far East.

On this issue, so writes Anne Cheng: «The ritual spirit is not a grid that overlays the universe from the outside. It represents the intimate structure of the universe, the structure that we must rediscover and bring out again». At the same time, the evocative power of Daoism pervades all thoughts on the “last things” and reassures men. We come from Nature and we will return to it5.

As we read in the sixteenth chapter of the Laozi, Nature is alive, neutral, impersonal, present everywhere, welcoming and serene. In Daodejin XVI, we find:« All things alike go through their processes of activity, and (then) we see them return (to their original state). .. This returning to their root is what we call the state of stillness »6

All this has been said in so many contexts and without any credible alternatives for so long that it has sedimented, so to say, in the most intimate layer of the conscience of men and women of the Far East. So much so that ritual behavior (with the implicit corollary of attachment to those rituals and therefore to that tradition) and trust in “nature” are the true religions of the Far East.

By true religion I mean something more solid and deeper than joining an established religion, like Buddhism or Christianity, even if it is done in all freedom. Very often, these religions become superstructural. They can prosper only in a soil that inevitably determines their direction and their quality 7. «For me Catholicism is the Western suit I wear over my Japanese kimono» stated the Catholic Japanese writer Endo Shusaku8.

The kimono9 is the traditional Japanese dress, and here represents the “Japaneseness” 10, nihonshugi, or “Japanism”. Here Shosaku wanted to say that he was Japanese in a deeper sense than he was Christian. It is clear for all to see how this on purpose stratified definition, represents the sense of our discorse in a fittingly complex manner. Matsumoto Shirō, a professor of Buddhism at the Komazawa Daigaku, the most important Buddhist university in Japan writes: «As for my personal relationship with Japan , I can only say that I consider love of Japan a form of self love. I experience Japan as an extension of my own mind and body [...]. Still, the teaching of the Buddha is absolute, which leaves me no other choice than to conclude: a Buddhist must not love Japan»11.

These words conclude professor Matsumoto’s famous essay entitled, Buddhism and the Kami: against Japanism12 dealing with japaneseness or 日本主義 nihonshugi, in which he implicitly recognizes that this sense of national identity is so strong that one must uproot it completely to be able to truly realize Buddha’s teaching.

These words are in the same essay: «Montesquieu is reported to have said that “I am of necessity a human being , but it is by accident that I happen to be a Frenchman”. I find this flippant in comparison with Mishima13’s assertion that being Japanese was “his destiny”, or with what Uchimura Kanzō14 wrote in his diary: “I have a desire to someday cease being a Christian and become a pure Japanese”. Such words have a religious ring in them. »15.

Here the value attached by the Japanese to this deep sense of belonging is remarkable. For Mishima it is the truest meaning (the true destiny) of his humanity and for Uchimura, in spite of the fact that he is one of the best known personalities of heterodox Christianity in Japan, the Japanese roots are richer than his Christian roots.

All the above in good part explains why everybody thinks it is perfectly natural in the Far East that every school of Buddhism should be active almost entirely in the performance of funerals and of the many ceremonies for the commemoration of the dead, while instead none is expected to provide guidance to the living or an explanation of the reasons for human existence. The higher spiritual questions are already replied to “upstream”. This explains also what people raised in a Catholic country find completely absurd: that in Japan is normal to celebrate baptism or “the presentation of the newborn” to the Shintō temple, marriage in a Catholic church and the funerals in a Buddhist temple instead. The search for a religious “service” has the aim to satisfy a deep need for ceremony, and therefore leads to identify, case by case, those who are, or are perceived to be: better, more refined, compassionate, solemn, fastidious or attentive to the beauty of the rituals and to the harmony of the ceremonies in the various situations.

Religion can be multifaceted because it has an instrumental value, while religiosity which is the primary bond with our nature, is not undermined even by multiple religious affiliations.

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Apparently, the scheme on which the Confucian doctrine is based is very simple. Heaven and Earth possess a special status which, by approximation, we could call ideal, which is why they are Heaven and Earth in capital letters as well. Even in their ideal dimension, they constitute an unbreakable whole, in which the High and the Low are clearly identifiable.

In the world of men, this natural order manifests itself ritually in the relation ancestor/descendent and concretely in the relation father/son. The sequence with which generations follow one another is the relation that determines the individual’s position in the world and, in particolar, in society. To fit in this scheme, piety is the basis for the realization of the 仁 ren, the “true humanity”, jin in Japanese, where, for filial piety one must understand obedience and deference. The relation father/son is the basis on which the political world and its scheme ruler/ruled and all other kinship and social relation are founded as well: elder/younger brother, husband/wife, older/younger-friend and senior/junior co-worker.

The relations within the monastery are no exception to this rule, and are organized around the hierarchy abbot/monks and elder/junior monk. Since it mirrors the cosmic Order, this system, which always forms a hierarchy, comes first, precedes the application of any religion and culture.

Even Western techniques and culture can be easily adopted and absorbed because or until –they do not affect this substratum. Buddhism too, seeping into that substratum, could not avoid coming out modified, often16 very significantly.

At a very deep level, there is a point where Buddhism and Confucianism cross path, and it is easy, at that point, to mistake the way. As is known, the aspect of Buddhism we can define gnosis is based on the awareness of the transience and emptiness of all phenomena, or the perception of the absence of independent life of every entity. For Buddhism, practice, both that done living every moment the complexity of life, and its concentrated form, which is zazen, consists in living this awareness concretely. That implies neither grasping nor holding any being or any phenomenon and allowing all beings and all phenomena do their thing in emptiness until they disappear. This is the origin of the attitude called “not grasping” during zazen and of the non attachment to worldly things in daily life, which – (please pay attention !) is also the gift of oneself. It is also well known that for Confucius, the human being exists only as a “relation” 17. He exists only in the network of relations. He is not a “self” separate and autonomous, but one of the infinite intersections of the Great Net, the cosmos. As a consequence, the realization of ren (jin in Japanese)implies renouncing one’s own individuality, egoism and uniqueness. This renonciation is achieved essentially by ritualizing all forms of behavior.

For Confucius, every human relation indeed all relations –must be lived according to the ritual, the conventions: living as a human being means to behave according to the rituals. This is the meaning of the following sentence: « The Master said- Subdue your own self and return to property, this is ren-». This is the synthesis of Confucian ethics. Ritual behavior marks men apart from animals, the from the barbarians, once again, the high from the low.

Legism radicalizes this position. In the writings produced in the Jixia Academy (called Shokuka in J.) one of which is the Guanzi we find this: «Do away with the individual self (私, si, watakushi in Japanese, also said “small self””) for the public good (公, gong in C., kō in J., also “big self”)» 18. The “big self” replaces the “small self” so that the established order in the nation and in society can hold sway. Similarly in the every day's life of Buddhist monasteries, often a very serious misunderstanding occurs. The rules are no longer a practice of transience. They no longer encourage the monks to freely settle in the middle position, and to learn that the emptiness of self constitutes a “fullness” ineffable and priceless in its absolute freedom and novelty.

Instead, monastic rules, the ritual, the ceremony and the liturgy become objective values, they constitute the “true way of doing things”. In many Japanese monasteries this attitude is pushed to its limits. Moulding man along the rules, achieving mastery in the performance of the rituals and of the complex ceremonies and in the formal behavior is regarded as the religious outcome which monks must strive to attain, the very purpose of Buddhism.

The realization of bodhi, awakening is mistaken for the realization of yi/gi, 義19, or “rightness”, “justice”, but also “loyalty”, “devotion” and “norm”. In Buddhism, to realize bodhi, one must understand very clearly how, and then never give up. In Confucian “Buddhism” what matters is a right relationship with persons and things. This means that, instead of practicing abstention from the forms and things of the world and letting the spirit breathe freely, one practices renunciation to the creative abundance of the world in order to refashion it and to put it out again in a predetermined form. In this way, spiritual freedom is lost forever, because it is neither practiced nor valued, but bartered for mastery in behavior. The behavior rituals, rigidly based on the superior/inferior mechanism affect the whole of society.

This, and the ritualization of gestures, imply that every person must perform some sort of “dance” with the others, and this has a very pleasant, harmonious aesthetic in addition to practical – value. For Confucius, this harmony and the pleasure that it generates is what justify ritualism, the production of personal wellbeing for men, wellbeing that arises from behaving in harmony with the Order of Heaven. Often this complex, heterogeneous and articulate mixture of form and content is taken for Buddhism. If they want to avoid becoming, perhaps after years of efforts, experts in oriental liturgies or virtuosi in how to apply the Confucian social etiquette, Buddhist apprentices must remember that one thing is to learn a religion, and quite another to learn the form of one of its inculturations.

The point is that we must learn how to make our spirit, and from this follow naturally the ways in which our mind and our body work. The religious spirit determines the behavior, not the other way round, otherwise it makes no sense to speak of religious practice. For this to happen, it is essential to practice with the body, “to be body”, and to leave conceptualization aside. There is no notion to be learnt. At the same time we must strive to follow up on this, to make very sure that we lead a virtuous life, otherwise the practice with the body will only be a gymnastics. Finally, we must nurture a clear awareness of our impermanence and of the transience of all things and of all beings.

Then, to find someone else who is already able to keep a religious spirit alive in himself is almost as essential. If under very special circumstances this latter condition may not be indispensable, 20 it is nonetheless certain that we will never learn what soul it is that we must imitate, create and generate if we tag along someone who is unaware of this spirit and tries to encourage us to adopt forms of behavior practiced since centuries in his culture.

For him, this may be the way in which his spirit expresses itself on the path that frees from pain, but for us it is only a pantomime. Once the acting is over, all that remains is its uselessness.

Please, do not misunderstand my words, I am not saying that a Chinese, a Korean, a Japanese or a Vietnamese can not be a good Buddhist teacher, or that he must teach in a special way. A Chinese, a Korean, a Japanese, a Vietnamese can and must teach precisely in his own way. The problem is on our side. If our teachers are able to show and teach us how their soul lives Buddha-dharma, we must live and express it through our own cultural form: like a new fruit nurtured by an old root.

Even if religions always live or manifest themselves also as cultural forms, no cultural form can be smuggled as it were a religion, or as it were the only medium through which a religion could live.

Mauricio Yūshin Marassi

Translated into English by Carlo Geneletti


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