December 2014 Monthly Ministry Theme: Hope

Buddhist GroupA Buddhist Perspective

By Nancy Thompson

 

Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron describes hope – December’s ministry theme – as an addiction to the idea that things would be better if they were somehow different. That keeps us from seeing and working with things as they are, which is the only way we actually can create change.

“Abandoning hope is an affirmation, the beginning of the beginning,” she writes. The hope we’re giving up, she says, is the idea that we could “be saved from being who we are.”

“Without giving up hope – that there’s somewhere better to be, that there’s someone better to be – we will never relax with who or where we are,” she writes in When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times.

When we do relax and look around without a judgmental eye, we begin to see what is there, to realize that we are sufficient and the world is not out to get us. Life becomes workable.

Pema notes that hope is the other side of fear, and that pairing is the root of our pain.

“In the world of hope and fear, we always have to change the channel, change the music, because

something is getting uneasy, something is getting restless, something is beginning to hurt, and we keep

looking for alternatives.”

If instead we stay with the feeling of discomfort, get to know our true selves, we can find confidence in our basic nature and our ability to be ourselves in the world. We can identify the source of the discomfort, rather than escaping it or covering it over, and work with that.

November 2014 Monthly Ministry Theme: Faith

Buddhist GroupA Buddhist Perspective

By Nancy Thompson

 
The Buddha famously told his followers, Don’t believe anything just because I say it. Try it for yourself. If it works, use it; if not, discard it.

So what is the role of faith in a tradition whose founder says not to take anything, not even his words, on faith?

In Buddhism, faith starts as interest, or curiosity. You see something, meet someone, read something, hear something. It sparks a response in you. You want to know more – how does that person attain that sense of calm amid chaos? How does the First Noble Truth – that suffering touches everyone – explain the world? How can I apply Pema Chodron’s teachings to my life?

That’s called aspiring or desirous faith. Sharon Salzberg, in her book Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experience, calls it “bright” faith. It isn’t fully formed, just a sense that there’s something there.

The next level is yearning, which Salzberg calls “verifying.” You ask questions at this stage. You do some investigating. You listen to more talks, you try some meditation techniques, you read more books. And it still makes sense. In a scientific framework, aspiring faith is the hypothesis. You have some reason to believe that something is true, that it makes sense, based on other things you know. Then you do more research or experiments to test it out. That’s the verifying stage.

If it holds up, you reach resolute or abiding faith. You trust in that which you’ve studied and experienced.

Buddhism places a lot of weight on the experience part of that equation. You can read about emptiness and understand it intellectually, but until you have a felt experience of that, you can’t know it.  The Buddhist path, with all its lists and interpretations, its 88,000 doors, is simply intended to help you peel off the conditioned layers of society and self to access your inner wisdom.

The Buddha also said that you are your own best teacher. When his followers asked what they should do after his death, he replied: Be a lamp unto yourself.

Ultimately, faith in Buddhism means having faith in yourself, trusting in your own innate goodness and wisdom and ability to discern what creates harm and what creates contentment. As Salzberg writes, “Whether faith is connected to a deity or not its essence lies in trusting ourselves to discover the deepest truths on which we can rely.”

October 2014 Monthly Ministry Theme: Attonement

Buddhist GroupA Buddhist Perspective

By Nancy Thompson

 

Buddhism is a path of personal responsibility. The concept of karma details how we are responsible for our actions -­across many lifetimes, if you want to take the long view. Buddhist teachings recommend that we constantly take stock of our actions to determine whether they create harm or benefit for beings. The goal is to create benefit, but, inevitably, there is harm done too. Someone interrupts our train of thought, and we snap in anger. We don’t listen closely to someone and say something unkind.

In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, there is a set of 59 slogans, called Lojong mind-training practices, that offer practical guidance for refining and purifying one’s actions. They include the recommendations to start the day with the intention to do no harm and to end the day by reviewing our conduct to see if we’ve followed through.

And what if we have not? It’s not an excuse for recrimination or beating ourselves up. It’s possible to purify the effects of harmful actions. It starts with acknowledging the unskillful action, seeing that it has harmed us and others, and setting an intention not to repeat the behavior.

The idea here is to change habitual patterns –anger, sarcasm, arrogance, envy –that harm ourselves and others. We take responsibility for our behavior, acknowledging our unskillful response and not blaming the circumstances or the devil who made us do it, and see that we can choose to behave differently –and promise (to ourselves) that we will try to do that.

Atonement, or purification practices, involve the two wings of Buddhism: wisdom and compassion. The recognition of our behavior and its effects requires wisdom, clear-seeing that is unfiltered by justification or judgment. Having recognized our behavior as harmful, we vow to change for the benefit of all beings, which is called compassion.

In Zen Buddhism, there is a formal atonement ritual. In Tibetan Buddhism, there are several purification rituals, including Vajrasattva practice. Both of those practices involve visualizing a deity who purifies the karma –the deity is a symbol for your own inner, pure nature.

The practices don’t require a deity. It’s a simple reflection. The trick is to do it without getting caught up in the stories we use to justify or explain our behavior, and sometimes picturing an outside entity helps with that.

Another of the lojong slogans says: Drive all blames into one. That means that instead of blaming the weather or the traffic or the email from your new boss for your bad mood, you take responsibility for it. If someone backs into your car and dents it, you take responsibility for your reaction (but not the repair bill). Do you yell, call them names, moan about why this always happens to you? Or calmly make the calls and then move on? That’s your choice, and that’s what atonement or purification practice brings to light.

“We are not compelled to meditate by some outside agent, by other people, or by God. Rather, just as we are

responsible for our own suffering, so are we solely responsible for our own cure. We have created the situation in which

we find ourselves, and it is up to us to create the circumstances for our release.”

-Lama Thubten Yeshe, Wisdom Energy

September Ministry Theme: Vision

A Buddhist PerspectiveBuddhist Group

By Nancy Thompson

I start each day with a brief recitation recommended by Thich Nhat Hahn: Waking up, I smile. Twenty-four brand-new hours are before me. I vow to live fully present in each moment and to look at the world with eyes of compassion.

Often, I find myself contemplating the phrase “eyes of compassion” as I get ready to start my day. What does it mean to see with eyes of compassion? Do things look different? How would I view a particular situation through the eyes of compassion? Would it be different if I looked with critical eyes, eyes of judgment, eyes of hatred?

Think of a plant. It could be seen as a beautiful living thing, an out-of-place invader, a potential source of suffering for those with allergies, and more. That’s how it is with most things — how we see is the result of not only how well our eyes work but the interpretations we bring to the physical action of seeing.

September’s ministry theme is Vision. It generally refers both to the physical process of apprehending visual stimulation in this moment and to the view of what we want to see in the future.

Buddhism is more concerned with the present moment and seeing clearly what is happening in the moment, including the arising of prejudices, memories, and conceptions that affect our direct experience and lead to more preferences and judgments that affect the future. Many of the practices associated with Buddhism, including various methods of meditation, are intended to help us become aware of those filters and to lead us to direct, unfiltered experience of our world.

Direct experience is the foundation of the Buddhist path. The Buddha himself said not to take anything he said on faith but to test it out and determine by your own experience whether it is valid. He laid out a path, but you have to do the work of walking it to know if it is true. The many wise teachers out there can point the way and help keep you on the path, but you have to put in the “joyful effort,” as Pema Chodron calls it, to move toward liberation.

The Buddha named Right View as the first step on the Eightfold Path to liberation from suffering. Right — also called Wise — View includes an understanding of impermanence and interdependence, that everything is always changing, and in the interdependent web of existence, those changes ripple out and affect others. Buddhist monk and scholar Bikkhu Bodhi lists Right View as the ninth step on the path because by working through the other steps our view becomes more refined and subtle as we realize and drop our filters.

An enlightened person is said to see clearly what is happening, both in the immediate moment and the causes and conditions that led to that. That wisdom naturally results in compassion — and Right Action, which is action that leads to liberation from suffering for ourselves and all other beings.

August Monthly Ministry Theme: Identity

Buddhist Group A Buddhist Perspective 

By Nancy Thompson

Ministry Theme for August is Identity

Last month at a group meditation retreat, in silence, among people who aren’t familiar with me, I was known to some as the woman with coffee — coffee was something of a contraband thing, not prohibited but not provided. I brought my own. To others, who shared my assigned daily work of cleaning the community center, I was the one who obsessively went over the checklist each day to make sure everything got done. I was a meditator, a student, a roommate.

Without the usual social cues of speech and context, identity gets stripped down to behavior and appearance. Name and history and stories don’t mean much when you aren’t having conversations. And that’s part of what happens when you sit in silence — you get glimpses that identity is mutable, relational, contextual, rather than something solid that you own. The stories that we think define us carve habitual patterns that can be hard to break out of, but our minds are the only things forcing us into those ruts.

“If you’re determined to think of yourself as limited, fearful, vulnerable, or scarred by past experience, know only that you have chosen to do so. The opportunity to experience yourself differently is always available.” —YongeyMingyur Rinpoche

In any given day, each of us has many identities — spouse, pet owner, parent, householder, employee, customer, etc. — even though we’re only one person. We can’t be all things to everyone but we can be many things to many people.

Seeing the multiplicity of identities and the lack of solidity in each one allows us to wear our identities loosely, leaving room for things to move in a different way. A boss doesn’t always have to be authoritative; sometimes listening to others’ ideas is appropriate. A parent doesn’t always have to know the answer — knowing how to look something up or being willing to try something we’re not expert at can be a good lesson too.

“Misfortunes and obstacles to practice do not exist intrinsically. For something to be a misfortune for me, I must identify it as such,” Buddhist scholar B. Alan Wallace says. If we refuse to identify something as an obstacle but see it instead as an opportunity or a challenge, we approach it differently. “We can then rebound from these calamities with courage and understanding, instead of wilting under their pressure,” Wallace adds.

The Buddha said that there is no solid, permanent self or identity — all we have are our actions, our karma. And we can always choose to act differently.  We can’t chose our race or whether we have a disability that affects how we move or other visible characteristics, but we can choose how we relate to that identity, just as others choose how they relate to that in us. Do we define ourselves by what others see in us or do we focus on showing them something that’s hidden? Do we chose to spend time with others who share an aspect of our identity or to vote in a bloc — identity politics — or do we cast a wider net?

June Monthly Ministry Theme: Family

Buddhist Group A Buddhist Perspective 

By Nancy Thompson

The historical Buddha left behind his family — parents, wife, and infant son — when  he snuck out of his palatial home to look for the causes of and liberation from suffering. Not surprisingly, he doesn’t talk much about family except metaphorically: Regard all beings as a mother regards her only child.

The Buddha taught to anyone who wanted his teachings, but he intended them mainly for monastics. (His son, Rahula, became a monk and the aunt who raised him after his mother’s early death was among the first nuns.)

While biological family isn’t seen as important, the community, or sangha, is so vital that it one of the three gems in which Buddhists take refuge — Buddha, dharma, sangha. Thich Nhat Hahn describes sangha as “the community that lives in harmony and awareness,” in one version of the refuge vow. That description is more of an aspiration that a statement of reality, as anyone who’s been part of a community knows. Interactions with people, even those related to us by blood or choice, can create friction.

That’s not seen as a problem, however. In fact, when the Indian sage Atisha went to Tibet to teach, he was concerned because he had heard that the Tibetans were so pleasant and easy to get along with that he might become complacent and stop working on himself. To guarantee that wouldn’t happen, he brought along the most annoying person he could find — an irritable Begali tea boy.

People who we find irritating or annoying show us where we’re stuck, where we’re clinging to ego or to a solid sense of self. When you think, “How could he do that to me?” you’ve created two solid, very separate selves. You’re not seeing the common humanity — and confusion — that colors relationships. You’re assigned praise or blame based on your perceptions of the situation without knowing all of the causes or conditions that created it. And you’re closely off your options for responding compassionately.

Families can be particularly good at pointing up old habits, places where we’re stuck. They’re also places where we can practice extending unconditional kindness — I love you no matter what — and boundless compassion. Relationships are where we test the truth of the realizations we’ve had in study or meditation practice.

I recently attended a weekend retreat on relational mindfulness. Half of each day was spent in silent, internal mediation practice, and half in interactive practice: feeling out the boundaries of our physical comfort zones, speaking briefly, listening. It was an intense experience to notice how quick we are to judge ourselves and others, to make assumptions, to fall back on habits and conventions without awareness of how we really feel.

It’s not realistic to expect to live always in harmony. That likely means covering over incidents or emotions that might disrupt that. But we can use our awareness to live with less stress and strife, seeing what is our projections, deciding how we want to respond to slights., cultivating kindness rather than staking out status.

 

May Ministry Theme: Devotion

Looking for some help on the Buddhist perspective on the May ministry theme, devotion, I looked through the indexes of several Buddhist books, but none had a listing for devotion. It’s not a common topic. The dictionary defines devotion as a strong sense of love or loyalty. But Buddhism tells us to look closely, to question. Don’t believe anything just because I say it’s so, the Buddha said. Examine it for yourself and see if it’s true.

Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche says devotion is often characterized by a feeling of inadequacy, that we are less accomplished or less able than the object of devotion. There’s a sense of separation and distance. In tantric or Tibetan Buddhism practitioners cultivate devotion to a guru or a deity – but that’s really a way of seeing the qualities of the deity in themselves. Devotion to the guru or deity is a way of cutting through the ways we cling to a sense of having a separate self. It’s connected with surrender, one of our previous minis¬try themes.

Another way to look at devotion is as abiding or unwavering faith. Sharon Salzberg defines abiding faith as “the magnetic force of a bone-deep, lived understanding, one that draws on us to realize our ideals, walk our talk, and act in accord with what we know to be true.” (“Faith: Trusting Your Own Deepest Experi¬ence” by Sharon Salzberg.)

For Buddhists, unwavering faith or devotion is related to buddhanature, that which has inherent worth and dignity, that which is innately compassionate and kind. “Unwavering faith knows to call upon the trustworthy earth of our own nature,” Salzberg writes. Devotion to our own potential for waking up leads us to see that in others, to feel compassion for others, and to want to help them.

The dictionary offers a second definition of devotion: “the use of time, money, energy, etc., for a particular purpose.” In Buddhism that purpose is enlightenment or liberation from suffering. And all of life can be used toward that end. The way to do that is outlined in the Eightfold Path, which lays out practices for living life with wisdom, ethics, and contemplation.

April Ministry Theme: Reconciliation

Buddhist Group A Buddhist Perspective 

By Nancy Thompson

To reconcile is to bring back together two things that have been separated. It’s what happens when a couple that has separated decides to give their relationship another try, Or when you balance the checkbook and bring your numbers in line with the bank’s. Or in the Roman Catholic sacrament, when you confess your sins and do your penance, taking away the stain that has kept you separate from God and the church.

In Buddhism, we experience this type of reconciliation when we see the truth of interdependence and the false nature of our separate constructed selves. We experience reconciliation when we let go of thoughts that carry us to the past or future, ruminating or projecting, and come back to the present moment with kind awareness, when we awaken to our true nature — which is not separate from others’ true nature. All beings have buddhanature, the inherent dignity and joy that is our unfabricated state.  We build identities on that, constructing shells that we collect and defend from questions or contradictions.  When we see that those identities are illusory and impermanent — not the solid, weight, unchanging things we imagine them to be — we can relax into a state of non-self or non-duality.

“What is meant by nonduality? It means that light and shade, long and short, black and white, can only be experienced in relation to each other; light is not independent of shade, nor black of white. There are no opposites, only relationships. In the same way, nirvana and the ordinary world of suffering are not two things but related to each other. There is no nirvana except where the world of suffering is; there is no world of suffering apart from nirvana. For existence is not mutually exclusive.” (Lankavatara Sutra) Thich Nhat Hahn calls this “inter-being.”

But even as we inter-are, we are. Even if we all have joyful, wise buddhanature — if the process of Buddhist practice is simply to find a way home to that — we have separate bodies, we act in different ways, not all them seemingly the actions of wise, joyful beings. How do we reconcile this?

Merriam Webster’s second definition of reconciliation encapsulates the conundrum of Buddhist study: the process of finding a way to make two different ideas, facts, etc., exist or be true at the same time. Our natural enlightenment, our ultimate identity, is hidden under the muck of constructed identities and be­liefs, our relative identity. (The relative level of reality is the one where you deal with your relatives, one teacher says.) The challenge is to act in the relative world with the knowledge of the ultimate, to bring to­gether the beautiful truth of interdependence and our mundane existence.

The first step to that is to see that others, who appear to be separate from us, actually are connected. And just like us, they want to be happy and safe and at peace. Understanding that as the source of their ac­tions, we may be less inclined to be oppositional and more apt to find common ground.

March Ministry Theme: Surrender

buddhisticonA Buddhist Perspective
Ministry Theme for January: Evil

By Nancy Thompson

“Surrender Dorothy,” the Wicked Witch of the West wrote in the sky in the movie “The Wizard of Oz.” What she meant was, “Give up. Stop fighting. Stop struggling.”  Taken out of the “us vs them” context, that doesn’t sound so bad. No fighting, no struggling – sounds pretty good, actually.

In Buddhism, surrender is not about handing over our power to another entity or becoming subservi­ent. It’s about giving up, not giving in – as the song says, “I’m gonna lay down my sword and shield … ain’t gonna study war no more.” It’s about surrendering our small, limited concept of ourselves in order to see the larger, interconnected, fullness of being. We give up the things that keep us trapped and gain freedom. Surrender is similar to the concept of renunciation in Tibetan Buddhism. In “The Wisdom of No Escape,” Pema Chodron writes that “it has to go with letting go of holding back. What one is renouncing is closing down and shutting off from life. You could say that renunciation is the same thing as opening to the teach­ings of the present moment.”

What we surrender are the self-defensive strategies that keep us separate from others, that lock us into the self-other binary. Instead of measuring ourselves and our accomplishments against others, clinging to what we’ve managed to accumulate, we see that we can be OK without that. “The ground … is realizing that we already have exactly what we need, that what we have already is good,” Chodron says. It’s also seeing that everyone stands on that same ground, that everyone is inherently whole and worthy of respect and dignity. If we are truly living in that place, there’s no need to struggle, to fight for a bigger piece of the pie, to try to defeat everyone else and come out on top.

Letting go, surrendering the things that keep us apart and opposed ends the struggle and lets us relax. “The purpose of a spiritual discipline is to give us a way to stop the war, not by our force of will, but organi­cally, through understanding and gradual training,” Jack Kornfield writes in “A Path with Heart.” … “When we let go of our battles and open our hearts to things as they are, then we can come to rest in the present mo­ment.”

February Ministry Theme: Love

buddhisticonA Buddhist Perspective
Ministry Theme for January: Evil

By Nancy Thompson

 

In Buddhism, love is paired with kindness in the term metta, or loving kindness. It’s defined as the wish for other beings to be happy. That may sound weak, but it’s actually not.

“Metta is the protective and immensely patient attitude of a mother who forbears all difficulties for the sake of her child and ever protects it despite its misbehavior. Metta is also the attitude of a friend who wants to give one the best to further one’s well-being. If these qualities of metta are sufficiently cultivated through metta-bhavana — the meditation on universal love — the result is the acquisition of a tremendous inner power which preserves, protects and heals both oneself and others.”

The Buddha first taught metta meditation to a group of monks who had gone to meditate in the forest and were frightened of spirits they met there. In the meditation, you make the aspiration that the other beings will be safe, happy, healthy, and know peace. In the formal practice, you extend that wish to specific people and groups: a mentor, yourself, a loved one, a neutral person, an irritating person, a group, and all beings.

By practicing in this way, we break down the illusion of separate selves and find the connection with others that we crave, Sharon Salzberg writes in “Loving-Kindness:  The Revolutionary Art of Happiness.” The Buddha describes that state as “the liberation of the heart which is love.”

Buddhism talks about universal love for all beings. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have romantic and personal relationships, teacher Noah Levine says. “The awakened heart has room for all.”

Loving-kindness is seen as the basis for ethics; if you are making a deeply felt wish for other’s happiness, you can’t at the same time wish them harm or act in a way that would cause harm.