Link: Interview with Rev. Kikuchi

A Japanese Canadian journal The Bulletin carries an interview with Reverend Masumi Kikuchi Canada’s only female Shin Buddhist minister. It’s not a long article but it is particularly interesting to read about how she overcame the expectations of others to become a priest:

You were born at the Genkohji Temple in Amagasaki city, Hyogo-ken, where your family has been looking after the temple for over 500 years. Was it expected that you would become a Buddhist minister, or did you have a choice of professions?

From the time I was child, my parents expected me to become minister’s wife. However, when I was 18 years old, I developed a herniated disc in my lower back and it changed my life. I started seeking for the true meaning of my existence.

Also fascinating is that she says; “I love Steveston and the people in Steveston who still keep the Japanese concepts of “Giri” and “Ninjo.” “

I don’t know a lot about these concepts, or the related honne v. tatemae and I often wonder about how they affect relationships within multi-cultural Shin sanghas.

 

Existentialism and Eudemonia

Since last weekend I’ve been mulling over an animated and challenging discussion that I had with a mixture of Japanese, American and British friends in which it became apparent that I was looking at things from certain perspectives that were either alien to them or which they saw as problematic. As such this week I have been looking into my self and have so far identified two elements that seemed to have caused the difficulties in my debate with my Dharma friends; (a) an existentialist perspective on meaning and choice, (b) a Christian perspective on human purpose and ‘talents’ combined with an Aristotelian concept of ‘happiness’ as ‘flourishing’ (eudemonia).

(a) Existentialism – In discussion with my friends I often find my self looking at things in terms of freedom of choice. I have no idea why this has come about but whilst investigating it I discovered that my philosophical position in discussions often comes close to Existentialism.

For example, one thing that we discussed was the roles of men and women in various societies. I tried to suggest that the ideal society is one in which there is freedom of choice. Nearly everyone objected to my view pointing out that there always exist various limitations from unalterable universal laws through to practical matters of daily life. However I felt that they had missed my point. From an existential point of view limitations may radically shape one’s choices but choice itself remains. In fact every single moment of life includes the possibility of radical choice. Choice only becomes actualised, however, when there is desire or aspiration, and desires are fluid and possible to sublimate, re-direct or repress. As such it was my contention that there may be societies or communities where peoples’ desires are controlled via ideologies and cultural norms such that they do not realise that they have choices in life and will simply do what they are told. Awakening therefore, to me, must include realising the reality of existential choice. Indeed Shakyamuni Buddha’s total turn-around in life course from Prince to wandering monastic is a perfect illustration of someone awakening to the possibility of re-assessing one’s desires and thus one’s life choices. Of course though, and this is where Buddhism departs from existentialism, once he became completely free in this way he was able to realise his dependence on all other things and came to the recognition of what we term in Buddhism co-dependent origination or tariki.

In contrast to the above path, many of my Japanese friends come to the teaching of inter-dependence not through first pushing individual decision-choice to its limits but rather via traditional cultural notions of indebtedness (on) which are used by Japanese Buddhist teachers as a secular model by which to point towards the reality of tariki. For example Japanese Shin devotees are asked to reflect on ‘What has been done for me’ – particularly in the family and parent-child context – (this practice has reached the West in the form of naikan therapy). In cases where this recognition does not happen, however, the individual may be temporarily excluded by the family or group – usually voluntarily (by going to stay at a temple for a period of introspection or simply to live with the help of people who owe one no secular debt ‘on’ and thus cannot be taken for granted) but sometimes by rejection (a bit like the Western notion of ‘tough love’?). It is the contention in some Japanese Shin circles that this helps to bring people to a realisation of their inter-connectedness with all things, where secular notions of ‘on’ (‘you owe me this’, ‘I owe you that’) corresponding to the defiled everyday mind are transformed into spontaneous and pure gratitude and joy.

The appearance of these two different approaches to Shin seem to me to be found in British/American versus Japanese culture on a pattern illustrated by the ying-yang symbol. Most but not all of the former approach Shin from an existential point of view, and similarly most but not all Japanese encounter it via the communally embedded perspective.

Both paths also have their risks. Existentialism highlights the existence of radical choice in every moment but appears to pay little attention to the role of desire (though I am not a philosopher and may be wrong about this). As such there can be a tendency to falsely create and/or reify choices that need not exist. For example it is not uncommon for Western Buddhists to abandon their partners, families, jobs and so on to go and pursue the path. No doubt they have a sense of giving up certain desires in the service of higher ones. From a Shin Buddhist perspective though (and interestingly I think also a Christian and Neo-Platonist one?) all desires are simply fragmentary and misconceived aspects of the one great desire which is the Call of the Primal Vow. As such it is perfectly possible to heed the Call in one’s life as it is.

Conversely the downside of this latter perspective, and also of the usual Japanese approach to Shin Buddhism, is that it can lead to forgetfulness of choice, or at least ‘bad faith’ (where we are aware of but refuse choice), and a loss of moral and ethical responsibility in action. What is meant by ‘responsibility’ in Shin Buddhism and Existentialism is however I think rather different. As I understand it in existentialism all choices are equal and the individual is responsible for creating meaning out of the choices they make. This view however seems to suggest that the individual exists in isolation from the rest of existence. In contrast Buddhism says that because of inter-dependence and causation not all choices are equal and therefore we must attend carefully (in Shin Buddhism ‘hear deeply’) to reality in order to go forwards in the best way. In a sense this is what faith is; the confidence that there is a clear path through the myriad possible existential choices.

This brings me back to the start of this section where I was arguing with my friends about the importance of choice. In a Shin Buddhist community, although responsibility of choice lies with the individual, just as in existentialism, people must be encouraged to awaken to the awareness which allows them to identify the right way forwards … to awaken to Amida’s call. As such if we stress too much individual freedom without a sense of limitation on the one hand (as is common in the West), or social duty and indebtedness on the other (as in common in the East) then the opportunity for the devotee to encounter the Light will be compromised. The solution to this problem is already to be found in the Pure Land Buddhist teachings in which we are encouraged to experiment with our human desires and aspirations against the backdrop of Dharmakara’s absolutely pure desire, aspiration, activity and realisation. This is why the form of the Primal Vow must exist at the centre of the life of the Shin follower … namuamidabutsu.

(b) Purpose, ‘talents’ and ‘flourishing’

Related to the above discussion about desire and choice I have discovered that I hold a strong sense that people have certain talents or qualities and that happiness lies in the full play of this potential, rather than in the equanimity described by some Buddhist traditions or the ataraxia of the Hellenistic philosophies. In my discussion with my friends, one – a self-professed ‘non-religious’ person – kept on objecting to my views of freedom on the basis that we are always confronted by limitations. He suggested that my notions of choice and individual human talents were unrealistic and would lead inevitably to suffering, and that happiness or contentment lies in accepting ones circumstances. Initially I was a little surprised by the turn of the argument as my non-Buddhist friend appeared to be making a Buddhist argument against me, whereas I – supposedly a Buddhist - appeared superficially to be holding a kind of Christian and/or Greco-Roman view of a kind of unique ‘soul’ or ‘spirit’ in every being (though I granted that my notion of ‘talents’ was not so rigid as referring to ‘vocation’).

Later however I was thinking about the notion of ‘salvation’ in Shin Buddhism and in Takamaro Shigaraki’s ‘What is Shin Buddhism’ I read the following:

“[Two types of salvation are] acutely illustrated by an incident that happened in my village when a motorcycle rider fell from a high place and so injured his leg that he was told amputation was necessary. After this was done, and he had to walk with a crutch, he began to contemplate suicide because of his condition. While in this despair, he was encouraged to join a religion and after going into that religion, his life changed. The response of this religion to him was: “the accident you were in was so severe that you were supposed to lose two legs, but because of God ’s intervention you lost only one and should therefore be grateful for this one leg you have left.” The accident victim was finally able to believe this explanation was right and by accepting this, he experienced the salvation of that religion in his life.

In this example there is a personal change in his life-no miraculous cure, his leg is still gone-but his acceptance of it on the terms of that religion is very different from the personal change that occurs in the salvation of Shin Buddhism. In Shin, personal change does occur, but a personal change of a very different nature. There is not a change in terms of stopping crying over the loss of one leg to experience happiness over still having the other leg. Rather, it is a change that occurs at a deeper dimension in life. If I were that amputee, I would find it difficult to be grateful for the loss of that leg. I would carry that loss in my memory as pain and sorrow at my suffering. To be able to accept my suffering tranquilly as such in my life, to stand peacefully with all that burden of pain and suffering is the inner change, the salvation of Shin Buddhism.”

Shigaraki is very clear then that fulfillment in Shin Buddhism is beyond equanimity, ataraxia, and stoicism. Perhaps one could express it not so much accepting what is but fully being what is. That said, despite our disagreement my friend has helped me to see that I retain certain flawed notions of human potential and fulfillment. In Shin Buddhism creativity, the great living/practice (‘daigyo’) of the Nembutsu, arises inconceivably in the inter-play between what we are and what is. There are certain conditions which will shape our lives but there is no blueprint, and - what is more - what we may wish to design would fall far short of what the power-beyond-self can make of us. In trying to second-guess myself, to postpone creativity in a search for perfection I just place myself in limbo … in what Shinran called ‘the borderland’ … waiting for life to begin. Although the existentialist talks of ‘choice’ their point that angst indicates a failure to live authentically is a sound one.

I’m not sure what the merits of all these musings are but even if they have come out as incoherent rubbish I feel that in listening to me my friends have helped to refresh my heart-mind and for that I am very grateful. Comments also very much appreciated! Namuamidabutsu.

 

Emotion and Aesthetics in Religious Conversion

The various perceptions alluded to at the end of my last post are very difficult to pin down, and still quietly fermenting in my mind. The overall process of reflection however has also got me thinking a lot about how incredibly complex religious engagement and ‘conversion’ is. No doubt there are many aspects that I have not thought of but, off the top of my head, some include existential turnaround (’e-shin’ in Shin Buddhism), intellectual assent, emotional affinity, social dynamics and aesthetics. Below I mention a few papers and articles that touch on some of these areas.

In his interesting essay A Buddhist’s Reflections of Religious Conversion (.pdf) Richard P. Hayes describes how - knowing his intellectual interest in Yogacara thought - a Japanese friend invited him to bow to a statue of Vasubandhu; of which Hayes writes:

I had learned that in Japan, one does things because those things are done. One bows to statues. So I bowed to this questionable wooden likeness of Vasubandhu, despite the fact that he looked much more like a Chinese patriarch than an Indian ¯ac¯arya. But I would have bowed with just as much conviction to a wooden Indian in front of an American cigar store.”

Examining my own religious and philosophical life I see that various spheres constantly come into conflict. Despite my existential and philosophical affinity with Jodo Shinshu I find the atmosphere of our tiny dojo - or of a simple roadside shrine for that matter - far more emotionally affecting than the Buddha Halls of most large Shin temples. Conversely however Christian parish churches generally leave me cold but vast Gothic cathedrals tend to move me to tears. Similarly in Japan I was affected not so much by the statues of Buddhas and teachers but rather by visiting the places where I could trace their living human stories. Yet visiting the Catholic cathedral of Santa Eulalia (La Seu) in Barcelona I was profoundly affected by a statue of the Virgin Mary; a figure totally outside of the framework of my Protestant upbringing. Again; visiting a Chinese Pure Land temple in London the elements of the doctrine and iconography were extremely familiar to me from Japanese Pure Land and Zen but the aesthetics were such that they made me feel like a total stranger in a way that Japanese temples never have.

These types of issues are significant in that aesthetics and emotions seem to be very important in helping us as individuals to engage with practices and hear and understand teachings. Even where we convert to a religious tradition purely on the basis of the teaching I am doubtful whether many converts hold onto their new path for long if it doesn’t have some aesthetically attractive dimension. That said for all its apparent inevitability we must at least consider that it might be a problematic tendency. For instance, writing about the conversion of the well-known Buddhist scholar Paul Williams to Catholicism Vishvapani of the FWBO wrote:

… although he presents the reasons for his conversion in the form of intellectual arguments (he is a scholar after all) they rest on an emotional conviction, and psychological orientation. And one of the Buddha’s most important teachings is that our views (ditthis) grow from our emotions.”

He continued:

Perhaps Williams’ conversion is a sign that western Buddhism will be tested as those who established it here enter later life. There can come a point in many lives when the values and belief systems of youth (’ideological’ conformity, the opinions of others, and ideals that seem disconnected from reality) start to lose their power. The lesson for those of us wishing to deepen our engagement with Buddhism is that our practice must include unacknowledged desires. It needs to be rooted in the whole of our experience. Buddhism may never feel completely natural to westerners until it has been re-expressed in the language, symbols and archetypes of their own culture. This can only be achieved over many generations. Meanwhile the abyss beckons.”

Changing focus slightly; elsewhere Jeff Wilson - a great dispeller of misconceptions about Buddhism - points out that in this increasingly inter-connected world the complex nature of religious conversion is not a one-way process of West to East or vice versa. For example, he notes that there are immigrants to the U.S.A. “who are converts to a particular type of Buddhism–they practiced, say, Mahayana Buddhism in Asia, but here in the USA have become affiliated with Theravada Buddhism.” Indeed a while ago on this very blog I recall a commenter called Atlasien writing about her own complex experiences as a Japanese American who has just started studying Jodo Shinshu.

I would be very interested to hear other people’s experiences of the challenges of religious conversion especially those that go beyond general issues like language barriers and touch more on personal and subjective conditions.