Quote

    I sit on top of a boulder
    the stream is icy cold
    quiet joys hold a special
       charm
    bare cliffs in the fog
       enchant
    this is such a restful place
    the sun goes down
      and tree shadows sprawl
    I watch the ground
      of my mind
    and a lotus comes out
       of the mud
    The Collected Songs
      of Cold Mountain

Hua Hu Ching, Buddhism, and the Plains

August 1st, 2007 by jack

The Hua Hu Ching is a lesser known collection of the oral teaching of Lao Tzu of Tao te Ching fame. The version I have is translated by Brian Walker. It is short, excellent, and in my opinion a worthy part of every Mahayana Buddhist library.

It is Taoist in the sense there is no reference to Buddhism at all. It is Buddhist in that the content is clearly in alignment with important aspects of Cha’an and Zen Buddhism and their derivatives.

It is interesting to trace the history of Buddhism a bit. Buddhism was born amidst a culture of Brahmanism in a relatively obscure part of India, and the imagery and words of the Pali canon reflect that. Early on, a key issue in Buddhism was the doctrine of Anatman, the “non-self” or lack of a separate self. There were several attempts to resolve this issue with the Mahayana school eventually adopting the position of the fundamental formless, transconceptual emptyness of all things. As Mahayana Buddhism moved into Tibet, it comingled with the indigenous shamanistic Bon religion to become Tibetan Buddhism. In China, the Mahayana school found a natural resonance with Taoism which greatly emphasized the non-dual, formless emptyness embraced by Cha’an Buddhism. As Buddhism moved to Japan from China, it harmoniously co-mingled with Shintoism to form many parts of Zen ritual. Rinzai Zen seems to have been influenced by the bushido culture; Soto Zen adapted itself to the working class. Buddhism migrating to Sri Lanka seems to have been transformed less culturally. As a result, the Theravadin lineage does not generally believe in non-duality and many teachers look on the teaching of non-self as meaning that “what people believe to be a self is not a self,” a subtle but important distinction.

Attempts to Westernize Buddhism for Americans are gradually showing the impact of American culture. The founder of the particular temple I attend made a deliberate effort to Westernize the form of Zen for Americans. However, she was English, and rather than adapting Zen to an American culture, she incorporated the forms of the English Anglican church with Gregorian style chanting, formal hymns, organ music and ceremony that seem a poor fit with both Buddhism and those coming from American Protestantism. While the Anglican/Catholic content is very obvious to outsiders, most members of the Order seem unaware of the assimilation, and do not distinguish between what is essential Buddhism and the Anglican style frosting that’s been added. They seem as reluctant to change the Anglican forms as they would be to change Buddhism itself.

The above is not a criticism of Buddhism or the founder of the temple I attend, nor a whining about lack of purity over the centuries. Indeed, as Dogen once expressed when asked about the authenticity of a sutra, Truth is a living substance that can be added to by other enlightened beings, rather than a stagnant declaration restricted to the content of so-called original sutras. Even in Theravadin schools, it is refreshing to hear teachers question some aspect of a sutra that is incongruent with the Buddha’s general teaching, or seems strangely out of harmony with other sutras. The acknowledgment is refreshing because it sharply contrasts with some common Christian claims that all Truth is contained in a Bible, that the content is inerrant, utterly congruent, historically accurate, and in some instances that a particular translation is the only reliable container of what was intended.

The difficulty of discerning cultural content vs. original (in this case, Buddhist) content is not restricted to religion. It is a widespread problem that affects values, political thinking, and even morality. We, as fishes in cultural water, do not generally perceive that we are swimming or living in something that is so totally pervasive that it is invisible. We cannot generally see culture shaping our lives, because it is an integral rather than adjunct property of who we think and believe we are.

In reading Hua Hu Ching, I cannot tell whether Taoism has been affected by Buddhism or whether Buddhism has influenced Taoism. In a way, it does not matter as long as it speaks Truth. But the example reminds me that Buddhism is a roadmap for finding Truth for myself in whatever culture I happen to be in. It is not necessary for the Western mind to develop an Oriental affectation to use the map. Anglican/Catholic imagery attached to Buddhism will endear it to some Westerners but will alienate most Protestant minds. For me, it has been enough to clearly see that the roadmap is reliable while the cultural affectations are not. I will have goodwill toward those who cannot see any difference between Buddhism and cultural add-ons. I will pluck Truth where I find it, whether it is in a junkyard or a mountain meadow. And I won’t complain too much about its surroundings. This is my vow as I step off this mountain of echoes and onto the plains awaiting me.

Namaste

P.S. I don’t want to write another post here, but I would be remiss if I did not mention another book that has proved to be of great value while I’ve been here. It is Experience and Philosophy (Suny Press) by Franklin Merrell-Wolff. It is a the account of an ex-professor from Stanford of his enlightenment experience that transformed his life. It is written with equal respect for Christian, Hindu, and Buddhist paths; the non-sectarian content is a delight in an area where the path almost always overshadows the endpoint. It is by far the most complete and understandable account of a kensho type experience that I have come across. It suffers, like all accounts from the limitations of words, but at least there is a substantial effort made to help the reader understand, and it has almost none of what I would call identifiable religious content, except in the broad usage of the word. As such it provides confirmation of what other religions point to without getting stuck in any particular doctrine.

It is also written in Western style, devoid of the heavy cultural brogue of the Eastern religions. It is quite understandable to Western minds, but not a simplistic read. Wolff sometimes uses a few obscure words, and at least one invented one, but it’s worth the mental climb to understand what he is trying to convey.

While Wolff’s description is helpful, I do not think he found any real way to help others reach what he had found. I’m not sure he knew exactly how he arrived there himself. So, while it’s a helpful description of an endpoint, it’s not the book you want if you’re looking for a path.

 

Double Namaste!

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