Charter for Compassion

Of course Jesus wasn’t born on December 25^th, but the symbolism of the date shouldn’t be lost on us. The celebration of Christmas is tied to the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. Or, alternatively, the longest night of the year, when darkness envelops the earth, when there is more darkness then light, when darkness threatens to conquer light. On this darkest of all days, we celebrate Light coming into the world to conquer darkness, to take back the day.

And how can we as individuals inject light into the world? How can we combat darkness? To paraphrase the Dalai Lama: “Find hope in the darkest of days—practice compassion.” It will bring others happiness—and you too.

Along these lines, I want to help spread the word about the Charter for Compassion, the project of one of my favorite authors on world religions, Karen Armstrong. It brings together all the world’s great religions in a dialogue on compassion. Check it out, sign the charter, spread the word, and most of all, practice compassion.

Charter for Compassion

And, just for a more global perspective, I might add that only half the world is experiencing this darkest of all days right now. Our sisters and brothers in the southern hemisphere are experiencing the summer solstice—the longest day of the year, when light is in fact conquering darkness. If Christianity had originally found it roots in the southern hemisphere, we’d probably be celebrating Christmas on June 25^th. So mark your calendars now. When June 25^th gets here, and we’re bathed in light, let’s share that with some of our fellow beings that suffer under the weight of darkness.

Compassion--Loving Enemies as Self

Love your enemies

Do good to those who hate you

Bless those who curse you

Pray for those who abuse you

(Luke 6:27)

If loving your neighbor as yourself seems radical, loving your enemy seems downright fringe—perhaps mentally unstable in the sense of wholesale abandonment of self, even nihilistic in the sense of complete destruction of ego and identification with that which seeks to destroy you. So what gives? Why would Jesus ask us to do this?

In my last post I spoke of the passage “love your neighbor as yourself,” and quoted Cynthia Bourgeault who explains that passage as one that requires viewing your neighbor as an extension of self. I said,

Until we realize that we are all in this together, we will not realize that love of others is love of self and, perhaps more importantly, harm to others is harm to self. Understood in this way, Jesus’s admonition to “love your enemies” is easier to understand and live out—enemies are an extension of self just as neighbors are. We—self, other, neighbor, enemy—are all one, reflections of the same light.

The same light is this: all of us, every living being, seeks happiness and avoids suffering. And that’s true of our enemies too. Sure, some of us pursue happiness through very misguided means, but attainment of happiness and avoidance of suffering is what we are all striving for. I believe I have a right to be happy, and if it’s worthwhile for me to be happy, then it’s worthwhile for my enemy to be happy too. If I can view my enemy that way—as an extension of me, seeking happiness and avoiding suffering—I can connect with my enemy on a human level and, as Jesus instructs, perhaps even love, pray for, bless, and do and wish good for my enemy. If enemies, like neighbors, are an extension of self, then wishing (or worse, doing) ill to enemies harms self, and extending good to enemies is extending good to self.

Jeffrey Hopkins provides a Buddhist perspective on this. A professor of Tibetan studies and one-time interpreter for the Dalai Lama, Hopkins writes:

If your own best friend went mad and came at you with a knife to kill you, what would you do? You would seek to disarm your friend, but then you would not proceed to beat the person, would you? You would disarm the attacker in whatever way you could—you might even have to hit the person in order to disarm him, but once you have managed to disarm him, you would not go on to hurt him. Why? Because he is close to you.

If you felt that everyone in the whole universe was in the same relationship to you as your very best friend, and if you saw anyone who attacked you as your best friend gone mad, you would not respond with hatred. You would respond with behavior that was appropriate, but you would not be seeking to retaliate and harm the person out of hatred. He would be too dear to you.

You can read the entire article, Everyone as a Friend, by clicking here.

The real life version of this is the Christmas Truce of 1914. Many perhaps have heard the story of the break in fighting during World War I along the British/German front on Christmas Eve in Ypres, Belgium. Cold and shivering in the trenches, having experienced unimagined bloodshed and slaughter, each side fighting against an unseen enemy that propagandists had labeled a monster, the spirit of Christmas, of common humanity, took hold. The German side began singing Silent Night, and the English side responded across the trenches with carols. Soon, they were meeting in the No Man’s Land between the trenches, exchanging cigarettes and brandy, playing a soccer game, and sharing pictures of families back home. Within a day or so, however, each side’s commanders overruled the ad hoc truce, and fighting and bloodshed resumed.

So what would cause warring enemies to suddenly become chummy for a day? Well, simply, they each saw the other’s humanity and saw an extension of self. These were men just like them: cold, hungry, with wives and children at home, who sang the same hymns at Christmas. The enemy was no longer unseen. The enemy’s mask had been removed and, frighteningly, the enemy was me.

Tear off your enemy’s mask and you’ll find yourself—that’s when you realize that harm to others is harm to self.

So, when someone hurts you, resist the initial urge to lash out. If you can, catch yourself before reacting and take a deep breath. Remind yourself that the person’s actions really aren’t about you—they’re about them: they’re just trying to find happiness and avoid suffering, just like you are. And, true, they’ve hurt you, but it's probably just as true that you have hurt someone else who extended you the kindness of not lashing out at you. So acknowledge the favor and pay if forward.

Compassion--Loving Others as Self

Love your neighbor as yourself

Cynthia Bourgeault has a wonderful book called The Wisdom Jesus. She devotes a portion of a chapter to this “great commandment” (Leviticus 19:18; Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27). I want to quote extensively what she says because I think it gets to the heart of compassion—that when we see clearly we have no choice but to love others as self because self is other and other is self. Until we realize that we are all in this together, we will not realize that love of others is love of self and, perhaps more importantly, harm to others is harm to self. Understood in this way, Jesus’s admonition to “love your enemies” is easier to understand and live out—enemies are an extension of self just as neighbors are. We—self, other, neighbor, enemy—are all one, reflections of the same light.

Here’s how Bourgeault says it. Beginning with the recognition that there is no separation between human and divine (as Jesus says “the Kingdom of Heaven is within you”), she continues:

No separation between human and human is an equally powerful notion—and equally challenging. One of the most familiar of Jesus’s teachings is “Love your neighbor as yourself.” But we almost always hear that wrong. We hear “love your neighbor as much as yourself.” (And of course, the next logical question then becomes, “But I have to love me first, don’t I, before I can love my neighbor?”) If you listen closely to Jesus’s teaching, however, there is no “as much as” in there. It’s just “Love your neighbor as yourself”—as a continuation of your very own being. It’s a complete seeing that your neighbor is you. There are not two individuals out there, one seeking to better herself at the price of the other, or to extend charity to the other; there are simply two cells of one great Life. Each of them is equally precious and necessary. And as these two cells flow into one another, experiencing that one Life from the inside, they discover that “laying down one’s life for another” is not a loss of one’s self but a vast expansion of it—because the indivisible reality of love is the only True Self.

These are the key points of a very radical teaching—not only light years ahead of its time but way ahead of our own as well. . . .

In a similar spirit, the Buddha in the Metta Sutta (Discourse on Loving-Kindness), says:

Even as a mother protects with her life

Her child, her only child,

So with a boundless heart

Should one cultivate limitless love for all living beings.

The mother-child imagery here is critical because the child is, literally-physically, an extension of self—part of mother, same as mother, is mother. Buddha and Jesus both say that we must love others because they are we, you are I, I am you. To do otherwise only harms self.

The 20th century Jewish theologian-philosopher Martin Buber conveyed a similar message in his seminal work I and Thou. Buber says that are two ways for self to relate to other: I-Thou and I-it. With I-it, the self relates to other as subject-object, but with I-Thou the self relates to other as subject-subject. I-Thou is a relationship rooted in unity of being, while I-it is rooted in separateness, detachment, and division.

I-Thou is how The Divine relates to The Human. And if we, as self, can relate to other as I-Thou, then we can touch the Divine—The Kingdom of Heaven will indeed reside within us.

Tzedakah—A Jewish Perspective on Compassion

Admittedly, I plug this blog as the intersection between Christianity and Buddhism. But today I depart and look to our Jewish sisters and brothers for inspiration on this topic of compassion. While in the last couple posts I’ve wanted to be transparent about what I spend on myself and how I can tie this to attempting to do good for others, I realize that transparency could be misconstrued—perhaps as false piety, or worse, hypocrisy, pride or hubris. The following comes to mind:

Be careful not to do your acts of righteousness before others, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward. When you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by others. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Those who give in secret will be rewarded. (Matthew 6:1-4).

So, I want to be clear that I’m not searching for kudos or rewards for my feeble attempts to reach out to those in need. Rather, I want to be transparent to hold myself accountable to myself and to others.

I’ve been reading portions of the Mishkan T’Filah, the new prayer book of Reformed Judaism. One of the selections for morning prayer speaks to this.

There are eight degrees in the giving of tzedakah (charity or justice), each one higher than the one before:

1. to give grudgingly, reluctantly, or with regret;

2. to give less than one should, but with grace;

3. to give what one should, but only after being asked;

4. to give before being asked;

5. to give without knowing who will receive it, although the recipient knows the identity of the giver;

6. to give without making known one’s identity;

7. to give so that neither giver nor receiver knows the identity of the other;

8. to help another to become self-supporting, by means of a gift, a loan, or by finding employment for the one in need.

This was written by Maimonides, the medieval Jewish philosopher and rabbi. I think generally I’m at level 2 (giving less than one should, but with some measure of grace and sincere intent). Thus, I have a great opportunity for growth.

How do you rank?

Record of Account

What we do for ourselves benefits no one. What we do for others benefits all humanity.

One of my friends sent me an email this week wondering why I had not recently posted an update. Thank you, Bob, for prompting me to get this done.

On my last post (click here) I committed to tying personal consumption to helping others in need. I laid out a simple plan where I choose several charities that were tied to achieving the Millennium Development Goals and every time I spent money on myself I committed donating money to one of these charities.

I also promised to be transparent, so here goes. In the last couple weeks, we have gone out to dinner with friends four times, bought wine from two of our favorite wineries, and bought a new laptop. It seems pretty extravagant. The laptop was in some ways a necessity since both the home laptop and home desktop both died within a week of each other. Nevertheless, a laptop is a purchase on ourselves.

Because of Bob’s email, this morning I took stock of these expenditures from the last couple weeks. I have prepared a spreadsheet (hey, I’m a tax attorney by training—I never met a spreadsheet I didn’t love). I’m calling the spreadsheet my Record of Account—as in being accountable to my conscience and to the needs of others. I’m listing every expenditure on myself (eating out, clothes, grocery shopping, electronics, etc.) and keeping a running tally of what I spend. When I give to each of these charities, I keep a running tally of what I give. There’s a column that calculates what I give as a percentage of what I spend. I’m starting out with a target giving of 10%. It may seem low but it’s in addition to our other giving, and it’s a place to start. At the top of my Record of Account is the above quotation to always remind me to put my spending in perspective. (It’s a paraphrase of this Albert Pike quotation: What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.)

Because we bought a laptop, we gave a laptop at www.laptop.org. This is a nonprofit organization (One Laptop Per Child) that provides durable, energy-efficient laptops to children in the third world to help educate them and bring them out of the cycle of poverty. Check out the website, it’s a fascinating organization started by an MIT professor with a grand vision that every child in the world have a laptop. We have a laptop now, and so does one more child.

Because we indulged in food and wine, we gave to several of the other charities I mentioned in my last post. We gave a Flock of Hope at Heifer International. This provides chickens, ducklings, and goslings to a third world family to provide the beginnings of a flock that can provide eggs for consumption by the family as well as sales of eggs for income production. This flock can grow and produce more food and more income. We also gave to the Health Fund at Episcopal Relief and Development which provides for the health needs of individuals in the third world. We made two micro-loans to women entrepreneurs in Peru at www.kiva.org. If you want to view the details on the loans and loan recipients, click here and view our personal page lending page. Finally, since this week was the week I had to fill out my United Way forms at work, I designated the other two charities I mentioned in my last post as my recipients (Operation Breakthrough and Episcopal Community Services Community Kitchen). These serve the needs of children and the hungry right here in our own neighborhood.

Happy spending, but more importantly happy giving.

Compassion Requires Action--What We Can Do

Awhile back (July 26th to be exact) I said that I would start blogging about compassion but that it could take months to collect all my thoughts and get them posted. Six weeks into this I’m reminded at how slowly my thoughts evolve. That being said, I’ve had this post more or less written for several weeks now. Most of the delay was wondering whether I had the courage to live up to what I was going to say. But two events yesterday spurred me to take the plunge and put this out there.

The first event was choral evensong at our church. My parish (St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church) offers Evensong the first Sunday of each month at 4 pm. My close friend Bede Mudge, an Episcopal monk, describes Evensong as the Anglican Church’s gift to humanity. (Visit Bede’s monastery, Holy Cross Monastery, and his blog, The Prior's Column.) If you have never heard Evensong and you live in Kansas City, come to St. Michaels on first Sundays. If you don’t live in Kansas City, visit the website for St. Thomas Church (on Fifth Avenue in NYC). Other than the great cathedrals of England, where this ancient rite found its fullest and grandest expression, St. Thomas offers one of the most profound and sublime experiences of this service in the United States—and if you can’t visit in person you can listen every week online at their website.

But, admittedly, as great as Evensong was, it was the dinner afterwards that put the final touches on getting this post out the door. We had dinner at our Aunt Diana and Uncle Jeff’s house with Gail, our priest, and Ken, our organist who was the architect of the beautiful Evensong. We had a spirited discussion covering many topics but the discussion of the Millennium Development Goals and how to help achieve them (and the various websites I post below) put the finishing touches on this post—not to mention Aunt Diana saying she gets up every morning to see if I have a new post only to be disappointed most mornings. Given to hyperbole, the Grande Dame and Matriarch of the family did guilt me into this.

The second event was church yesterday morning and the New Testament reading from James 2:14-18:

What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have belief but do not have action? Can beliefs save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not give them clothes or food, what good is that? Belief by itself, if it has no action, is dead. Your actions will show your beliefs.

This ties nicely to my last post (Compassion Requires Action) and the various sayings from contemporary Buddhists and ancient Jesus about testing our beliefs in the crucible of action. But, in the spirit of James, enough about words—even words by such venerable Buddhist monks and Jesus himself. What about action?

Well, here’s my three-step action plan on what we can do to change the world.

Step One: Personally embrace one or more of the Millennium Development Goals (learn more about the MDGs here, here, and here):

· Eradicate extreme poverty and hunger

· Achieve universal primary education

· Promote gender equality and empower women

· Reduce child mortality

· Improve maternal health

· Combat HIV/AIDs, malaria and other diseases

· Ensure environmental stability

· Develop a global partnership for developing countries.

Step Two: Pick a favorite charity (either local, national or international) that directly achieves one of these goals (soup kitchens, homeless shelters, HIV/AIDs clinics, battered women and children shelters).

Step Three: Whenever we spend money on ourselves (going shopping, going to the store, eating out) let’s also give something to the charity (or charities) selected in Step Two. Maybe it’s dollar for dollar, maybe it’s 50 cents on the dollar, maybe it’s 10 cents on the dollar. The amount doesn’t matter, the action does. By tying our own personal desires (shopping, eating out, buying groceries) to the needs of others, we can take one step towards transforming the world. Five dollars here, $100 there, pretty soon we’re talking about serious money, serious change, and serious transformation (for us individually, as well as the world). Sure, we all give to our favorite charities on a regular or infrequent basis, but tying a gift to improve humanity to every moment we spend money on ourselves, I think, serves as a powerful springboard for personal and global transformation.

Here’s my personal plan:

Locally in Kansas City, I’m choosing Operation Breakthrough (an organization helping children living in poverty) and Episcopal Community Services Community Kitchen (which feeds the hungry). Globally, I’m choosing three organizations working to achieve the MDGs in third world countries Episcopal Relief and Development, The Heifer Project, and Kiva (Kiva allows you to make microloans to third world entrepreneurs so that they can become self-sustaining).

Every time I buy groceries, go out to eat, or buy something for myself that is not a basic necessity (which pretty much describes everything I buy), I’m going to give something to one of these charities. I don’t know how much yet, but I promise to be transparent and keep you posted about how much.

I hope you join me in the 3-Step Plan.

Compassion Requires Action

I travel a fair amount and I see this billboard frequently in airports.

What good is it if we merely wish for others’ happiness but do not work to realize it? This gets to the root of the issue, where the rubber meets the road. We cannot just think compassionate thoughts. If we are truly compassionate, we are moved to action. There must be compassion in action, not compassion inaction.

A prominent Burmese monk, commenting on the human devastation wrought by the cyclones and flooding in recent years, said “If you feel concerned for the victims, that’s good. It means you have compassion . . . but that’s not good enough. Compassion is important but it doesn’t amount to much if it’s not accompanied by action. Compassion in mind and words won’t bring food to people in need.” (See the article here.)

Thich Nhat Hahn, the Vietnamese Zen Buddhist Monk, pioneered the concept of “Engaged Buddhism.” He says that generosity, justice and compassion must be practiced not just in thinking and speaking but most importantly in acting. Acting includes sharing oour time, mental energy and material resources. This is really a modern teaching on the ancient Eightfold Path of Buddha which stresses not only Right Thought and Right Understanding and Right Speech but also Right Action. (To learn more about Thich Nhat Hahn and Engaged Buddhism, visit his monastery’s website and especially his teachings on the 5 Mindfulness Trainings and the 14 Mindfulness Trainings.)

Understanding Thich Nhat Hahn’s background helps understand his concept of Engaged Buddhism. Describing the Vietnam War and its impact on his country and his people, he says “when bombs begin to fall on people, you cannot stay in the meditation hall all of the time.” (See the article here.) To be aware of a global society (ancient religious tensions in the Middle East, rape in the Congo, cyclone and tsunami and flood disaster in Asia, hunger and homelessness in our own backyards) requires action. We cannot just think good thoughts—we must act on them.

Charity and generosity are certainly not foreign to the Christian tradition. Jesus expresses sentiments similar to those of our contemporary Buddhist friends. He lays down the simple compassion commandments: Love another, love our neighbors as ourselves, love our enemies. But he doesn’t stop there. Jesus, too, realizes that compassion cannot merely be good wishes, but requires action.

I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. (Matthew 25: 35-36)

Whoever has two shirts must share with someone who has none. Whoever has food should do the same. (Luke 3:11)

My favorite is the following passage from John where Jesus tells Peter to “feed my sheep.” There are the love commandments (“love one another”), and there are the action commandments (“give to the poor”), but in this passage Jesus ties love and compassion directly to action. If we love, we will act.

When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.” Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you truly love me?” He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Tend my sheep.” The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.” (John 21:15-18)

Notice the use of two verbs (feed, tend) and two nouns (lambs, sheep) in each iteration: feed my lambs; tend my sheep; feed my sheep. Feeding gets to the most basic need of sustenance in order to remain alive. Tending, however, is much more expansive: it requires every act the shepherd can bring to bear for the good of the flock. It certainly includes feeding, but also herding, nurturing, healing, correcting, loving. Caring for the less fortunate requires not just feeding but tending, not just our money but all our resources (material possessions, time and energy), not just feeding the hungry but caring for them, loving them, respecting them, hurting for them, laughing with them, being their friend, treating them as ourself, as an extensive or ourself—realizing that ultimately our happiness depends upon theirs.

And while we should tend and feed the sheep, the entire flock, we should pay special attention to the lambs, the most tender, fragile and vulnerable among us. The one variation of the admonition not used is the one, perhaps, to which we should give most attention: tend my lambs.

In other words, we should do everything within us using all our resources to provide every care to the most vulnerable in society. So how can we do this? Stay tuned. In a couple days I will post some thoughts on how to tend the lambs.

Country Music: Buddhism with a Rough Edge

Those who know me know with what little regard I hold country music. At lunch today, I was unwillingly subjected to the crooning that was coming over the PA system at the restaurant where I was eating. In the spirit of living in the present moment, and avoiding trying to wish for some state of affairs that wasn’t (say, like Dave Matthews or some good jazz or classical music), I decided to listen to some of the lyrics—first to make fun of them but then one caught my ear. It’s a new song by country artist Darryl Worley called “Sounds Like Life To Me.” Click here for the lyrics. To hear a recording of the song on You Tube, click here.

The short message is: stop your whining and deal with it. In a more pastoral way, Jesus might say “do no worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself” (Matthew 6:34). Or in a more cerebral way, a Buddhist might say “don’t desire the present moment, whether good or bad, to be anything other than it is—freedom comes from embracing the current state and learning and growing from it.” Or, my nephew and niece’s preschool might say “take what you get and don’t throw a fit” (click here for my posting on this from June 15, 2009).

But there’s a certain appeal to directness of the lyrics of this song—it’s Buddhism with rough edges, for those of us that are dealing with the rough edges of life. A guy is complaining to his friend about the car falling apart, the appliances breaking down, the mother in the nursing home, the mounting bills, etc. The friend responds:

Sounds like life to me—it ain’t no fantasy

It’s just a common case of everyday reality

Man I know it’s tough but you gotta suck it up

To hear you talk it sounds like some kind of tragedy

But it just sounds like life to me.

The guy continues the whine: you don’t understand, there’s another kid on the way, I’m the only income earner, my pay got cut last week. The friend, a persistent if not terribly articulate presence, again responds:

Sounds like life to me—plain old destiny

The only thing for certain is uncertainty

You gotta hold on tight just to enjoy the ride

Get used to all this unpredictability

Just sounds like life to me.

The only thing for certain is uncertainty? Get used to all this unpredictability? This is the concept of impermanence that I’ve previously blogged about on July 19, 2009 (click here to view the posting). Sometimes you just have to look at the present moment or present state and say: it doesn’t get any better than this. The sentiment can certainly be expressed with resignation (which is not the idea), but it can also be expressed with the wisdom that you should not be attached to nor averse to the present moment. If it’s good, don’t be attached to it because it will go away. If it’s bad, don’t be averse to it because it will go away. As the great Chinese Zen master Ta-mei said, “there’s only now—when now comes don’t try to avoid it; when now goes, don’t run after it.”

So stop the drama, quit the whining, buck up, it’s just life. Country music—it’s Buddhism with rough edges.

Compassion

In my first posting (What is Interstices, May 24, 2009), I referenced a quote from His Holiness the Dalai Lama when he was speaking at the Ethics for the New Millennium Conference in Edinburgh Scotland in November of 2005. “All major religions carry the same messages,” he said: “messages of love, compassion, forgiveness, tolerance, contentment and self-discipline. I have Muslim friends, Christian friends. All have these same values.”

So, I want to spend some time writing about what Buddhism and Christianity say about love and compassion and forgiveness and tolerance. I will do this through a series of posts, roughly along the following lines: today I want to speak to the basics and in future posts I’ll address some other related themes like compassion and action, compassion and diversity, compassion for our enemies, and then finally I’ll end with some Buddhist meditations and Christian prayers on compassion. At the glacial speed I post to this blog, it could take weeks to get all this pulled together so be patient.

I’m struck by the simplicity in which the entirety of Buddhism and Christianity can be summed up in a few brief statements, or one word really: love.

Jesus says, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” (John 13:34)

Elsewhere, Jesus says, “Love your neighbor as yourself—this is the greatest commandment.” (Leviticus 19:18; Matthew 22:39; Mark 12:31; Luke 10:27)

Paul makes a more sweeping statement: “The entire law is summed up in a single command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” (Galatians 5:14) It’s not just the greatest commandment, but the summing up of the entire law.

And just so you’re clear that this love extends to everyone (not just your friends, as in “love one another,” and not merely that kindly old lady who lives next door with the small dog and the garden, as in “love your neighbors”) Jesus throws down the gauntlet with this really tough one: “Love your enemies.” (Matthew 5:44; Luke 6:27)

The entire law, the entire teaching and ministry of Jesus, summed up in one phrase, one word really, a single command: love. It’s a verb (not a noun)—it requires action (not a passive state of being).

I’m not hearing any judgment here, no condemnation, no threats of burning in hell or eternal damnation—just love and compassion for all beings; a Gospel of compassion, not a Gospel of hate and judgment.

The Metta Sutta is the Buddha’s discourse on love and compassion, (metta meaning compassion or loving-kindness, and sutta or sutra meaning discourse or teaching). I’ve heard it referred to as the Universal Hymn of Love. Expressing similar commands, the Buddha says:

Cultivate an all-embracing, boundless mind of love

And radiate love through the entire world,

In all its height, depth and breadth —

Love that is untroubled and unhindered

And beyond hatred, ill will or enmity.

His Holiness the Dalai Lama sums up both the Buddhist and Christian perspective beautifully and succinctly: “I have no need of elaborate temples or complicated religions: my heart is my temple and my religion is kindness.”

Some more equally succinct sayings on metta by HHDL:

“Be kind whenever possible . . . and it is always possible.”

“If you can, help others; if you cannot do that, at least do them no harm.”

"If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion.”

“Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.”

“Whether one believes in a religion or not, and whether one believes in rebirth or not, there isn’t anyone who doesn’t appreciate kindness and compassion.”

A string of quotes from Jesus, Buddha and HHDL, all variations on a theme: love one another. Pick one that speaks to you and let it become your compassion mantra. Repeat it to yourself whenever you get pissed off, angry, hurt, or neglected. Repeat it to yourself when you see the homeless person or the beggar on the street. Just repeat it to yourself: love one another.

Impermanence, Tom Watson, and the Open Championship

Tom Watson lost the Open Championship today. So what, you may be saying. Well, it’s not just any golf tournament—it’s the Open Championship, sometimes referred to as the British Open, one of the four major tournaments in the annual professional golf calendar, the oldest of the four, and usually played in Scotland where the ancient game originated—it’s the golf equivalent of Wimbledon. You still may not care.

Well, this wasn’t just any Open Championship, and it wasn’t just any old professional golfer. Although it was in fact an old golfer, at least by professional golf standards—a 59 year old competing against a field of twenty and thirty somethings. And, had he won, it would have been historical—the oldest golfer ever to win one of the four major championships and the sixth Open Championship for Watson which would have tied him for the lead of the most Open Championships.

And this opportunity at victory wasn’t a long-shot (well, it was on Thursday when the tournament started, but not by Sunday when Watson was still in the lead). Watson lead on Thursday and everyone was nostalgic about the brief flash of brilliance reminding everyone of the fine champion he was in the 70s and 80s, but you knew it was just a moment in the sun. He was still the leader on Friday and we were all amazed at his stamina, for an old guy anyway. He was still the leader on Saturday and suddenly we all realized he could do it—he could make sports history.

On Sunday, he was at the top all day, going in and out of the lead at various times but always the constant contender. As other players fell in and out of the lead, Watson was constant, and constantly at the top of the leader board. Going into the 18^th and final hole he was the sole leader and victory and history were his. I was very emotional—truly on the verge of tears of happiness for this Gentleman of Golf, already a champion in the history books and poised on the precipice of even greater sports fame.

And then he lost. And I was still on the verge of tears, but now of heartbreak. How, in a matter of a few minutes, moments really—just two strokes of a golf club, the third and forth strokes on the 18^th hole—did he go from eternal fame to nothing? (Not to mention the fact of why is a 44-year old man crying over a 59-year old golfer—crying whether he won and crying whether he lost.)

Such is the nature of impermanence. Today we’re a prince, tomorrow a pauper. Yesterday we had robust retirement accounts, today we’ve postponed retirement and are working into our 70s. Today we’re healthy, and tomorrow we are succumbing to death by cancer. Someone lost a job. Someone lost a spouse. It can all be quite devastating. But why focus on the negative? Impermanence also means that tomorrow my business venture could take off, my cancer may be cured miraculously, and my soul mate might wander into my life. Certainly, this is true. But the point is not to get caught up in the misery of the bad times or the glory of the good. Either way it will pass—nothing is permanent.

Golf (and especially today’s final round) is a good metaphor for impermanence. You can be on the precipice of greatness, and nothing may come of it. A great shot is followed by a terrible shot. A triple bogey is succeeded by a birdie. A three hundred yard drive counts as one stroke, as does a 3-inch putt. Today, six different persons held the lead at various times during the day. It was a veritable feast of change on the shifting sands of change.

Impermanence and change are central to Buddhist belief. Buddhism states that there are certain matters over which no human being has control—certain matters that will constantly be in a state of flux, an inexorable movement forward, for good or ill, that cannot be stopped: you will grow old, you will get sick, you will die, things that are perishable will perish, and that which is liable to pass away will pass away. The more cynical (and succinct) American paraphrase of this primordial truth is that only two things are certain: death and taxes.

Just so you don’t think that Buddha (or the East) had the lock on ancient wisdom, at about the same (c. 500 BCE) Heraclitus, a pre-Socratic Greek philosopher, was also proclaiming change and impermanence as bedrock truth of reality: “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” (The river is a classic metaphor for constant change; see below).

And the Judeo-Christian tradition is not silent about impermanence either. Let’s start with Psalm 90.

We fade away suddenly like the grass

In the morning it is green and flourishes

In the evening it is dried up and withered

The span of our years is seventy

Perhaps in strength even eighty

Yet the sum of them is but labor and sorrow

For they pass away quickly and we are gone.

The entire psalm is about impermanence. So what’s the answer to this? Eternal misery over constant change that we’ll never be able to control? Well, no. The psalmist has an answer: “So teach us to number our days/That we may apply our hearts to wisdom.”

What is numbering our days? I think it’s nothing other than the concept I have discussed already in this blog—living in the present moment, good or bad, and graciously accepting it for what it is without trying to change it—the knowledge that the present bad moment will eventually turn pleasant, and the current pleasant moment will eventually turn bad, just as a river is constantly flowing downstream with ever changing currents.

Jesus also addresses this issue.

Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also. (Matthew 6:19-21).

Life is impermanent, moth and rust destroy, we grow old and we die. If the present moment is pleasant, you become attached to it and when it’s gone you despair. If the present moment is bad, we pine for another time and we despair. Either way, we despair. But if we store up treasure in heaven, that is, lead a life of wisdom, of graciously accepting the present moment as neither good nor bad, but as just the present moment that we can learn from, then we can break this constant cycle of attachment to good and aversion to bad, both of which only lead to misery.

I leave you with two prayers. The first has become sort of trite because it’s on so many bumper stickers, note pads, coffee mugs, and other paraphernalia, but it still speaks fundamental truth:

"Lord, grant me patience to bear the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

The second is from the Episcopal Church Book of Common Prayer and it’s one of the collects (prayers) for Compline, the ancient monastic prayer service said immediately before retiring to bed.

Be present, O merciful God, and protect us through the hours

of this night, so that we who are wearied by the changes and

chances of this life may rest in your eternal changelessness;

through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Everything changes. Don’t get caught up in it. Relax. Breathe. Experience the moment and learn from it.

Postscript: After the Open Championship, at the press conference, the reporters filed in somber and quiet while Tom Watson sat stoically at the dais. “Come on fellas,” he said, “this isn’t a funeral.” That’s the attitude, Tom! You’re already a champion. It would have been great one more time. And I would have cried tears of joy for you. But if you really want to make a difference in this world, go home and love your wife, love your kids, be gentle and kind to strangers, a mentor to young golfers—continue being the Gentleman of Golf.

Links to the Rolling Stones

It occurred to me that someone might want to see the lyrics and/or hear the Rolling Stones songs referred to in the last couple posts. However, you probably will need to be a Rolling Stones fan, or at least a 60s and 70s rock fan, to appreciate the music. With that caveat, here are some links to the lyrics and the songs.

Satisfaction

lyrics:

http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/r/rolling_stones/satisfaction.html

audio recording of song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MejtR81RzCo

You Can't Always Get What You Want

lyrics:

http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/r/rolling_stones/you_cant_always_get_what_you_want.html

audio recording of song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tGfJ0_KMiro

Enjoy (or not, as the case may be).

The Rolling Stones--Redux

As a follow up to yesterday’s post about The Rolling Stones’ Satisfaction (as in, I can’t get no) and You Can’t Always Get What You Want (but you do always have what you need), the Four Noble Truths, the Eightfold Path, and Jesus’ wisdom about not fretting about tomorrow, I ran across this translation of the ending passage of the lilies of the field parable that I was referring to in my post yesterday.

“Do not ask anxiously, What are we to eat? What are we to drink? What shall we wear? The whole world runs after such things. Set your heart and mind on God's commonwealth and justice first, and all the rest will come to you as well. So do not be anxious about tomorrow. Today has enough problems of its own; tomorrow can look after itself.” Matthew 6:31-34

I was perusing www.dailyoffice.org, a great website if you are looking for the daily office on line, and this was from the website’s Wednesday Compline service and the translation is taken from the New Zealand Prayer Book.

This translation hones in on the Eightfold Path a little more directly and makes the tie in to the Path as the Way to tame desires and cravings, end suffering, and achieve enlightenment. We should not worry about satisfying physical desires (what to eat or drink) or all the “stuff” we want (what we will wear, what we will drive, what stuff we will put in our house). Craving, desire and attachment only bring misery. And, as Jesus says, we don’t need to worry about tomorrow as tomorrow can look after itself. Rather, we should practice the Eightfold Path, as set forth by Jesus: “set your heart on God’s commonwealth” (Right Understanding and Right Thought); “set your mind on God’s commonwealth” (Right Effort, Right Mindfulness and Right Concentration); “seek justice first” (Right Speech, Right Action and Right Livelihood). If you practice the Path, “all the rest will come to you as well.” Enlightenment can be attained—you will possess all by possessing nothing.

To descend briefly into the academic esoterica, I highlight the words heart, mind, and justice above because these loosely tie to the three prongs of the Eightfold Path: The Wisdom or Heart Prong: Right Understanding and Right Thought; The Mind or Mental Discipline Prong: Right Effort, Right Mindfulness and Right Concentration; and the Justice or Ethical Conduct Prong: Right Speech, Right Action and Right Livelihood.

I can’t say Jesus and Buddha are saying the precisely same thing, but close enough that it’s worth making the connection. But that’s my purpose with this blog—the space between Christianity and Buddhism is a small space not a chasm—an interstices.

The Rolling Stones and the Four Noble Truths

Buddhism is grounded in the Four Noble Truths. First, life entails suffering and unhappiness. Second, suffering comes from unfulfilled desire—every moment of suffering or unhappiness emanates from a desire for the current state of affairs to be different than it is. Third, suffering can cease—primarily through taming our desires, through accepting the current state of affairs or current moment as it is and not seeking, striving or desiring for it to be anything other than it is. Fourth, the path to enlightenment and the end of suffering and unhappiness is the Eightfold Path (Right Understanding, Right Thought, Right Speech, Right Action, Right Livelihood, Right Effort, Right Mindfulness, Right Concentration).

But, really, what does this have to do with The Rolling Stones? What first comes to mind is the song Satisfaction: “I can’t get no satisfaction . . . I try, and I try, and I try, and I try . . . but I can’t get not satisfaction.” A rock and roll restatement of the second noble truth: we suffer because we are constantly striving to satisfy unsatisfiable desires. I can’t get no satisfaction and therefore I suffer and am unhappy.

But in their rock wisdom, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards don’t leave us in the despair of endless suffering. Rather, they show us the way to the end of suffering in the song You Can’t Always Get What You Want: “You can’t always get what you want/But if you try sometime/You just might find/You get what you need.” Actually, if we try, we realize we always have what we need.

Last week there was a post on Tricycle’s Daily Dharma that expounds on this concept:

July 4, 2009, Tricycle's Daily Dharma

You Have What You Need

“One definition of an enlightened person is one who always has everything they need. At every moment what they need is there; they're not seeking anything. If you really are seriously practicing to be free and to simultaneously realize enlightenment, you never seek out of the immediate situation, no matter how bad it is. You transform the immediate situation into what you need.”

Richard Baker Roshi. From The Roundtable: Help or Hindrance (Tricycle Fall 1996)

Buddhism is about living in the moment, good or bad, and not getting caught up in the desire to try to make it something other than it is.

What does Christianity (actually Judeo-Christianity) say about this? A lot, actually. The first act of rebellion in the Bible is Eve’s unhappiness over being denied the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. What happens when she tries to satisfy that desire by grasping for and eating the desired but forbidden fruit? Banishment from Paradise and eternal suffering and unhappiness for all humanity.

The tenth commandment reminds us that we should tame our cravings and desires in order to find happiness: You shall not covet your neighbor’s possessions.

And Jesus says “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.” (Matthew 6:19). In other words, seeking material possessions only leads to unhappiness when those possessions are lost, destroyed, stolen—or when we simply lose interest and turn our attention to the next thing we crave. A little further on in that same chapter Jesus says, “Seek first the kingdom of heaven, and all will be yours.” (Matthew 6:33). This comes right after Jesus tells us we should not worry about what we will eat or drink or wear. Stated in a Buddhist way, the end to suffering is ending our cravings and desires about what we will eat or drink or wear or possess. If we are going to seek or desire anything, it should only be the kingdom of heaven (enlightenment), and then we will possess everything by possessing nothing (nirvana).

I could go on. Jesus and Buddha are really saying the same thing.

I’m reminded of this pithy little saying: Happiness is wanting what we have, not having what we want.