Universality and Ritual, Part 1 – The Universality of Stillness
universal: “[I]ncluding or covering all
or a whole collectively or distributively without limit or exception… [E]xistent
or operative everywhere or under all conditions...” Merriam-Webster
ritual: “[A]ccording to religious law…
social custom or normal protocol.” Merriam-Webster
It would seem that these two words
comprise a natural dichotomy. On the one hand we have something that applies to
everyone regardless of position or place or circumstance, and on the other hand
we have that which pertains to some initiated subgroup on the basis of mutual
agreement, prescription, affiliation, or decree. Perhaps we can think of this
dichotomy as another aspect of the dichotomy between ultimate and conventional
truth, or between transformation and translation, for that matter. Nonetheless,
I think we’re well-served holding loosely in mind our ideas related to this
dichotomy. Yes, attachment to ritual can cause us to overlook that which is
universal – missing the forest for the trees, so to speak. But attachment to
universality might prompt us to unwisely discard those ritual aspects of the
rich spiritual traditions after prematurely judging them to be just so much useless
baggage to carry along on our journey toward ultimate truth.
If you’ve read my previous two posts
you’ll likely recognize why I think an examination of this dichotomy is an
appropriate next step. Throwing Away Your Toys, after all, might easily be construed as a call for the jettisoning of
all anachronistic or idiosyncratic ritual or protocol in order to more fully
embrace that which is universal, namely, stillness – stillness of body,
stillness of mind, stillness that becomes apparent once our conceptualizations
(our “toys”) have been relinquished. Stillness, Silence, Truth then picks up that thread, ultimately closing with an invitation
to embrace this universal stillness and silence for that which it reveals, or
that which it is as the case may be, namely, truth.
I know, I know…, talking about
universality in the same breath as truth is a very dangerous thing. It’s the
stuff of arguments at the holiday dinner table and religious wars, alike. The
problem is that most of us are far too quick to assume universality based upon
a sample size of one. So, why do I even want to go down this road?
Well, as it turns out I’m not the
first one to ever ponder the universality of zazen. Dogen Zenji finished at
least one draft of his Fukanzazengi by the year 1227 or so, shortly after returning
to Japan from China. Variously translated as, for instance, A Universal Recommendation of Zazen, A Universal Recommendation for True Zazen, and
Universally Recommended Instructions for Zazen, Fukanzazengi is a masterfully
concise and powerful treatise on the how and why of seated meditation. But just
how far was Dogen willing to take this claim of universality?
The first translation implies that
it is recommended to all human beings, i.e., A Universal Recommendation of Zazen. That sounds a little
like the Surgeon General making a universal recommendation of proper diet, regular
checkups, adequate sleep and exercise, etc. The use of the word ‘for’, however,
in the latter two translations seems to open the door to an ‘if you’re going to
do zazen, then this is the right way to do it’ sort of interpretation. Titles
notwithstanding, a Dogen scholar might rightfully suggest that we take into
consideration the historical context in which Dogen wrote in order to sort
through this question. In fact, the various sects of Buddhism in Japan during
Dogen’s time did not all recognize the primacy of zazen. It took someone with
the gravitas of Dogen to espouse it. Couple that with the uncertainty that we
have as to whether or not or how much Dogen was even familiar with the concept
of monotheism, and we have to leave room for uncertainty. While it is safe to
conclude that he thought that all Buddhists should engage in the practice, going
farther than that might be reading too much into his words. And, yet, the
question remains: How far would Dogen take his claim of universality if he were
alive today?
In the world of today we are made
aware on an almost daily basis that our neighbors are Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Native American
Spiritualist, Hindu, Pagan, New Age, Wiccan, Atheist, unaffiliated and so on
and so forth. Does a universal recommendation of zazen apply to these folks,
too? How do we even begin to go about talking about the question, let alone
answering it?
I think it is fairly safe to say
that all religions – theistic or nontheistic – have at least some respect for
silence, whether it be spent prayerfully, contemplatively, watchfully,
meditatively, etc. Here is a smattering of quotes that indicate what I mean:
Be still, and know
that I am God… – Psalm 46:10
Let silence take
you to the core of life. All your talk is worthless when compared with one
whisper of the beloved. – Rumi
Listen to the
stillness, the language of God. – Father Richard Rohr
There is nothing in all creation so like God
as stillness. – Meister Eckhart.
Are we to believe that the
stillness and silence spoken of above is a different kind of stillness and
silence altogether simply because it is experienced by a Jew or a Christian or a Sufi?
Might it be that the Jew or Christian or Sufi, or anyone else for that matter, must throw
away his or her “toys” on the way to knowing that which they refer to as “God”
– just as the Buddhist must throw away his or her “toys” on the way to knowing
“Buddha-Mind”? After all, is it not the case that words are woefully inadequate
when it comes to this ineffable realm of truth – stillness, silence, truth? It
is my contention, then, that the experience of stillness and silence is
universal, the truth to be found therein is universal, but just as soon as
we begin to put that truth into words we fall into the realm of disagreement
and argumentation.
Perhaps we should try to stay away
from words as much as possible, then. I have constructed a series of diagrams
that I hope will let us do just that. As you examine Diagram 1 below, please
keep in mind that it represents the actual or theoretical experience of
truth – not some intellectual understanding of teachings or dogmas. So, when I
refer to “Buddha-Mind”, I am referring to an ineffable experience which,
from a Buddhist’s perspective, is called “Buddha-Mind”; and when I refer to
“God”, I am referring to an ineffable experience which, from a Christian’s
perspective, is called “God”. By the way, I’m restricting the diagram to
Buddhist and Christian experience merely for the sake of simplicity. We could add
any number of circles that we might like.
 |
| Diagram 1 |
What we have above are two
non-intersecting “circles” representing unique experiences of truth, neither of
which encompasses any of the truth of the other. Both circles are contained
within a larger circle that represents some theoretical human potential to experience
truth via some heretofore undiscovered practice or means. If you’ve heard the
story of the king who asks a group of blind people to touch various parts of an elephant and describe what they “see”, then you may want to use that story to
understand this particular representation. Note that the king represents the
maximum human potential to experience truth – he can see it in totality. Of
course, people from one tradition might believe that their experience of
truth belongs inside the larger circle (or, in fact, is the larger
circle) even as they relegate the experience of another to the outside – the
realm of delusion! Yes, there can be many different versions of these diagrams!
You might be wondering what has
become of the subject of this post – universality. Yes, it would seem to be
absent in Diagram 1. Each circle represents a very parochial experience of
truth which could certainly stand to be embellished by the truth of another
tradition. For there to be any universality there needs to be at least one
point of intersection between these two realms of experience. And so we have
Diagram 2.
 |
| Diagram 2 |
Diagram 2, for my way of thinking, is
a step in the right direction with respect to representing the common ground
between Buddhism and Christianity. Each has at least some regard for stillness
and silence. I suspect, however, that the universality that Dogen was referring
to such a long time ago was not anything that could be circumscribed by any
finite circle within some larger domain of human potential for experience. No,
I suspect that Dogen would draw the circle representing “Buddha-Mind” just as
large as the domain of human potential would allow. Likewise, I suspect that no
Christian would be willing to say that their experience of “God” is subject to
any limitation other than that of the outer limits of human potential. Does
that mean that our diagram should look like Diagram 3? Hmmm…
 |
| Diagram 3 |
Mind you, I’m not saying that I
have the answer to this question. I just hope that I’ve framed the question in
a clear enough fashion to be instructive. Might it be the case that, if we could only boil away all of our words and
theories and concepts about what it is that we are experiencing, we would find that the Buddhist’s experience of truth that he or she calls
“Buddha-mind” and the Christian's experience of truth that he or she calls “God” are, in actuality, the same?
I expect to have more to say with
respect to this question of universality as this blog continues – both in the next
post and down the line. For now, though, let me thank you for following along
to this point. I hope you’ve found at least some merit in these graphic
representations of the various experiences of truth. I’ve shown them to a
number of clergy friends and, while we certainly didn’t arrive at any
conclusions, we did have some lively discussion with respect to how else the
circles might be drawn. So, please have some (serious) fun with them!
Image Credits
Iris image
manipulated by the author using Photoshop. Original photo by Laitr Keiows via:
Copyright 2012 by Maku Mark Frank
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