As It Is ~ SAVIORS AND SUPERMEN
SOMEONE ONCE REMARKED
TO ME that she had heard it said that a certain well
known monk had a wife. I replied to her: "I don’t
care if he has ten wives! What is important to me
is what I can learn from him that might be useful
to me in my own life".
Long ago, I gave up the immature pursuit
of looking for a ‘savior’, someone to
‘save me’, ‘forgive my sins’,
or live my life for me. I have accepted responsibility
for my own life, and hope that I will have the fortitude
from doing so to accept whatever comes to me without
overly complaining or blaming others; I am in training
for this now.
Some people think that a teacher’s
teachings have little value if he himself does not
always live by them, but I do not subscribe to this
idea. If we do not expect the teacher to be perfectly
enlightened, or to ‘save’ us, it becomes
unimportant whether or not he lives by his own teachings.
(If someone cooks delicious food, and spreads it on
the table, but does not eat it himself, it would not
mean that other people could not eat it, would it?)
In any case, people would be foolish to merely believe
what he says, but should test it to find out if it
is true and useful to them or not. In this way, we
might learn something good from anyone, regardless
of the morality of the person; and we would discover
that the teacher is important only insofar as what
he says is true; it is not enough for him to claim
that what he says is true; it must be true, independently
of his claims. And would you mind if your geography
teacher had never been to the far away places that
he talks about in his lessons? Would you dismiss his
teachings as invalid if he hadn’t?
Jesus of Nazareth spoke so much about Love
that many people have come to regard it as the cornerstone
of his teachings, but he actually said very little
original about Love, other teachers having said much
the same kind of things before him. He said things
like, "Love your neighbor as yourself",
and "Love your enemies, bless them that curse
you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them
who despitefully use you and persecute you",
and so on. But he did not always show love himself,
and was often quite harsh (contrary to the ‘gentle-Jesus-meek-and-mild’
image many people have of him), especially to the
Scribes and Pharisees, whom he cursed as ‘hypocrites’
and ‘vipers’. Moreover, his love was not
broad and all embracing, but was limited to a small
group of people ? the Israelites ? and he told his
disciples to go forth and spread his message only
to the Children of Israel and not to the ‘Gentiles’
(the Jewish term for non-Jews). And there was also
the time, as recorded in Mark 7:25-30, when a Greek
woman approached him and asked him to exorcise her
daughter of the spirit that possessed her. He told
her that it was not right to give the bread of the
children to dogs, meaning that his teachings and help
were not for Gentiles. But she persisted, and said
that the dogs may eat the crumbs that fall from the
table, whereupon, Jesus relented and helped her. But
why, if he was all compassionate and loving, should
he have hesitated to help her in the first place?
These days, he would be accused of racism for talking
like that!
Then again, there is nothing in the story
of Jesus, as recorded in the New Testament, to indicate
that he felt any kindness towards animals; on the
contrary, we read (Matt. 8, Mark 5, Luke 8), how Jesus
drove evil spirits out of a possessed man, which then
went into a herd of pigs that was grazing nearby,
causing them to run headlong downhill to drown in
a lake. He was also not averse to giving instructions
on how to catch fish.
In spite of such personal discrepancies,
we don’t dismiss the teachings of Jesus as useless,
and it doesn’t mean that we cannot benefit from
them. There are the inspiring examples of Francis
of Assisi and the late Mother Theresa to demonstrate
that the love which Jesus spoke about is a real and
practicable thing; in fact, these two followers of
Jesus seem to show love in a higher degree than did
Jesus Himself (Saint Francis and Mother Theresa can't
deny that, as they would, because he died more than
700 years ago, and she died just recently, but we
can imagine them being horrified of the suggestion
that the disciple should be more advanced than the
Master!); they didn't allow Jesus' occasional 'lapses
from perfection' to prevent them from applying and
experiencing what he taught.
Imagine what the world might have been like
if more Christians had attempted to live by the teachings
of Jesus, instead of merely believing in Him, and
praying to Him to save them; or if Buddhists had not
treated the Buddha as a God or Superman, and tried,
instead, to experience for themselves what He was
talking about! It would, for sure, have been quite
different than it is now!
Most of us have, or have had, 'hero figures'
to whom we look up and admire. Some of them we leave
behind as we grow up and mature, while others remain
with us for life; and as we go along, we might acquire
others, too. Often, however, we find that if we meet
our heroes ? who are usually remote from us, and beyond
our reach ? they appear otherwise than the image we
have built up of them, and not larger than life, as
we previously supposed. And so, we feel somewhat disappointed
and let down. It would, therefore, be better, perhaps,
not to meet our heroes, but to keep them at a distance,
for then the qualities that we most admire in them
might remain intact and continue to inspire us and
serve as examples for our own living.
My elder brother, who is really quite a
heathen and not at all religious or spiritually inclined,
once went to church with his wife and young children,
for some reason that I no longer remember. They sat
there quietly, waiting for the service to begin, and
when the minister, in his clerical vestments, mounted
the pulpit from behind, the silence was suddenly broken
by a loud and awe-filled whisper from one of my nieces
to the other: "Look, Linda, there's God!"
There are many misconceptions about clergy
people, some of which have been deliberately propagated
and maintained over the ages to engender a mystique
in the minds of the laity, but, while few people would
retain their childhood ideas into adulthood, many
people do harbor strange ideas about monks, nuns,
and priests. Among the faithful, there are some who
elevate the monks and priests so high that they almost
need a telescope to see them in the sky, and then,
if the monk or priest does something they don't like,
or that they feel he shouldn't do, he falls in their
esteem, and they feel quite disappointed. But this
is more because they put him so high to begin with,
rather than what he might or might not have done.
They expected him to be super-human and not to have
human frailties. Some of them might even be surprised
to learn that the monk or priest has to use the toilet
like other people!
Some people use the clergy as scapegoats,
so that they can do whatever they like without feeling
too bad about it; they feel that Dharma is only for
monks and nuns, or other people who live cloistered
lives, and that it doesn't apply to them; they resent
any suggestion that it does. A man once came to see
me to complain about a monk whom he had seen smoking,
and said it was very bad "But," I said,
"what about you? You are smoking right now as
you are telling me this!" "Oh, but I'm not
a monk," he replied, "so it's alright.''
Thus, the monk becomes a convenient excuse for them
to avoid doing what, deep inside them, they know they
should or should not do. "I don't have to do
that," they say, "because I'm not a monk."
If a monk refuses to be placed on a pedestal
and worshipped, but insists on being a human being,
with feelings and faults, like other people; if he
admits that he is not enlightened, and refuses to
pretend that he is, as many people expect him to be;
if he presents his ideas in ways that people cannot
reject, evade, or pretend that they don't understand,
it throws some people into turmoil, and they feel
threatened, and don't know what to do. This is because
they live in a framework of rigid concepts, in which
there is very little need to think for themselves.
Very few of us want to hear things explained to us
in ways that we can understand; very few people want
the undergrowth of delusion cleared away, for they
would stand exposed and be robbed of any excuse for
avoiding their responsibilities. Anything that reminds
them about their social obligations is resented and
resisted; they just don't want to know! And anyone
who wishes to propagate Dharma must be prepared for
opposition, and no doubt he will have many enemies,
for the naked truth is the last thing that most people
want; this is the reason that religions have cloaked
themselves in mystery and ceremony: as a concession
to the masses; deny them this, and they withhold their
support. Truth is never popular in the world; it hurts.
Many other people, of course ? mainly of
the materialist kind ? view clergy people as out of
touch with reality, as anachronistic in the modern
world; clergy are often the subjects of derision,
ridicule, and jokes at the hands of such people, unless
and until they need them for occasions like baptisms,
weddings, or funerals, and then they come with polite,
respectful words and fine titles, and expect the monk
to be ready and happy to oblige them.
I was told recently that someone had said
that I am not a real monk because I don't stay in
a temple, or chant every day, or perform ceremonies.
Well, I have met this person several times over the
last five years, and know that he is stuck on form,
and knows little of the essence; nor does be seem
to be interested in learning anything, being content
with what he thinks he already knows. No doubt he
feels his beliefs are threatened by my non-conformity,
and doesn't know how to categorize me, and fit me
into his scheme of things. But why should I fit into
his narrow world? I am not his puppet or slave, and
I must say that the opinions of such people do not
matter very much to me. Nor do I claim to be, or wish
to be, the kind of monk that he is used to: those
who stay in temples, chant in languages that few of
them understand, perform ceremonies for the dead,
etc., but who provide little for the living in terms
of helping them to understand something of the Dharma.
My way is not a way for the dead, but for the living,
and I think I may fairly say, without boasting, that
people would have to be pretty dumb if they could
learn nothing useful from or through me, out of all
the things that I have explained.
If monks refused to live up to people's
unrealistic expectations of them, and would admit
that they are not enlightened (although they would
like to be), it would be so much better. As it is,
because they feel that people expect them to be 'holy,'
there is a tendency, in some monks, to pretend that
they are, and once they get into this game, it is
very difficult to get out.
During the Dalai Lama's 1992 tour of Australia,
he was interviewed on a current affairs program, the
host of which, Derryn Hinch, said to him that he had
heard that he ? the Dalai Lama ? had quite a sharp
temper. The Dalai Lama replied, with one of his delightful
chuckles, and in his rather high pitched voice, "Yes,
why not? I am also a human being!", and went
on to explain that he thought he had inherited it
from his father, who was quick tempered. What a startling
admission from someone who is highly revered and widely
regarded as a genuine holy man! I can imagine some
people being somewhat shocked and disappointed to
learn that even people at such a level can sometimes
get annoyed! Many of us, you see, are so unsure of
ourselves, so weak minded, that we look outside of
ourselves for saviors and supermen, someone to do
for us what only we can do for ourselves ? to become,
in other words, a vicarious substitute. This tendency
leads to all kinds of excesses and troubles, and severely
weakens a person's capacity for making the necessary
efforts himself.
Because I feel that I have something worthwhile
to share with others, I would like to make it quite
clear that it is not within my capacity to take the
karma of others upon myself, even though I might wish
and be willing to; each and everyone has his/her own
individual karma (plus group karma), and each must
try to work things out for him or herself, with whatever
help they might get from others; if they are unwilling
to do this, any help from outside will ultimately
not be very effective. The best form of help is that
by which a person comes to understand how to help
himself; without this, other forms of help might only
cause a drug-like dependence.
I am also not a priest or intermediary between
people and the Buddha. I do not, merely because I
am a monk, have special powers that other people don't
have, neither do I have access to secret knowledge
denied to others.
I can perform ceremonies for the dead, like
other monks, but I do not know how effective they
are in helping those who have passed on. Perhaps there
is an effect, and perhaps there is not. I do not know
what happens after death, so I am not qualified to
say anything about it; nor do I know anyone who is,
although lots of people talk about it as if they are
in direct contact with the after-life. I have read
about it, of course, and heard others speak about
it, but how can we be sure that they are not just
repeating what they have heard, like parrots? On this
matter, I must plead ignorance.
What then, can I do that might be useful
to others? I know that some people think that the
things I talk about are just a matter of words. Well,
they are, if people allow them to remain as such.
But, if they would test the things I talk about, to
see if they work, and are valid and useful to them
or not, rather than merely believing or disbelieving
what I say, they might find out, for themselves, whether
they really are a matter of words or not. From my
side of the fence, the things that I talk about and
try to transmit to others, are things that I have
had some experience of ? it is not merely a matter
of words or belief with me. However, I will readily
admit that I do not always live by what I talk about,
and sometimes, I make mistakes. But this should surprise
no one; like the Dalai Lama, I am also a human being!
And, even if I do not always do what I say, that doesn't
make my words invalid and useless to others, does
it? If people do not expect me to be a savior or a
superman, they could still learn useful things from
me, just as I could learn things from them. And it
does not really matter from whom we learn as long
as we learn; a diamond is a diamond, no matter where
it is found. Personality should not come into it,
but so often, like small children clinging to their
mothers, many people are unable or unwilling to see
beyond personality. Meanwhile, life goes on.
Yes, but we need to be able to respect a
person in order to learn from him, some people might
say. This is rather like putting the cart before the
horse, is it not? If we respect only the form and
then expect to learn, we might be disappointed; we
might even be led astray. Respect should be earned,
and not bestowed just out of custom. Lao Tsu said
? in the Tao Te Ching ? "Respect of Tao and honor
of virtue are not demanded, but are in the nature
of things." And somewhere else, in the same book,
he spoke about foolish people laughing at the mention
of Tao. So obviously, respect comes only from those
who recognize something deeper. For my part I respect,
and feel grateful towards, anyone who helps me understand
something useful, and that person does not have to
be holy, good, or even someone I like! Respect comes
naturally if learning is important to us. And respect
does not necessarily mean bowing to someone and making
offerings to him or her. The best way of showing respect
and gratitude to someone who has helped us understand
something is to apply what we have learned from him
in our lives; merely to say "yes, yes,"
but to do ‘no, no’, has very little meaning.
I once knew someone who was excessively
respectful towards monks, but when he tried to manipulate
me, and I refused to 'dance to his tune,' he got mad
with me, and told someone that he would give up being
vegetarian. But if he became vegetarian because of
me, it was a sign that he had no roots in himself,
and didn't understand about vegetarianism. This same
person donated a refrigerator for my use, but it didn't
work; perhaps he thought that it would work for me
when it wouldn't work for him because I am a monk!
He also donated a saucepan with a hole in the bottom!
It is amazing what people expect of monks! However
can they avoid disappointment?
I have no, nor do I want, any disciples;
I feel that we should be disciples of Dharma, or Life,
not of a person or persons.
"Pain
is neither intolerable nor continuing, provided you
remember its limits, and don't let your imagination
add to ft."
(Epicurus,
Greek philosopher, c. 300 B.C.)
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