Have Yourself a Buddhist Little Christmas


By now all of us Buddhists have weathered well over a month of what is commonly referred to as “the holiday season.” It starts with the dominant culture storming out of the gate the moment the Halloween decorations come down and gathers momentum as Thanksgiving approaches. By Black Friday the sprint has begun. Whatever pace each individual can muster is then maintained by whatever means necessary until everyone collectively collapses into a physically and emotionally exhausted and overindulged pile of debt-burdened human wreckage on New Year’s Day!


Jizo statue

How are you holding up so far? Have you gone stir-crazy yet from hearing Christmas carols nearly everywhere you go? Is the ubiquity of wasteful and distasteful lawn art finally wearing you down? Has workplace pressure to pony up for an offering of useless crap for the “white elephant” gift exchange put your principles of simplicity to the test? And how many times have you lamented to friends and family the rampant commercialism and materialism of these times, or deftly deflected the queries of acquaintances as to whether you’ve yet set up your tree? Perhaps you've even  contemplated going rogue and writing your local municipality to enquire about the appropriateness of public monies being spent on all of the “holiday” bunting, “seasonal” banners, and “festive” lighting adorning the public buildings, lampposts, and trees? No, I've not actually followed through on that last one, but I have to admit that such scrooge-like sentiments have crossed my mind!

No, you don’t have to be a Christian convert to Buddhism (as I am) to have such sentiments. I’ve heard plenty of Christians lament the materialism and lack of attention to the true meaning of Christmas. And who knows what it must be like to be Jewish, Muslim, Atheist, or what have you, without ever having had a personal religious connection to the holiday. I feel your pain! Well, perhaps it would be a little more accurate to say that I have felt your pain.

You see, as my Buddhist practice has deepened, I’ve become much more adept at the practice of equanimity – although not perfect by any stretch of the imagination! You might recall from an earlier post that equanimity is one of the four Buddhist virtues known as the Brahma-viharas, or “Sublime Abodes” – compassion, sympathetic joy, and loving-kindness being the others (Sangharakshita; Schuhmacher & Woerner). Practicing equanimity allows us to more easily remain unperturbed by all that might otherwise be “karmically charged” for us. Clearly, equanimity is beneficial with respect to letting go of such scrooge-like sentiments as those that I’ve admitted to above, but it is indispensable if we aspire to nirvana – unconditioned peace – peace beyond all causes and conditions.

Opportunities for the practice of compassion and loving-kindness are so abundant during the holiday season as to likely require no further mention, but there are many opportunities as well to practice sympathetic joy, the fourth of the Brahma-viharas. Perhaps we can reflect upon how others are experiencing joy from those very sights and sounds that might be driving us bonkers. Without the holiday season the lives of many would ring flat, or be devoid of hope for the future of humankind.

I distinctly remember having occasion in the midst of one long-ago holiday season to notice at least a modicum of progress in my cultivation of equanimity and sympathetic joy. I was driving home from the very first weeklong meditation retreat that I ever did. Over the course of that week my mind had gotten pretty still, and as I wended my way through the countryside looking at the various decorations on the houses and in the yards here and there, I felt none of my more typical disdain. I felt only a warm sense of well-being knowing that people were hopeful, and joyful, and desiring to make the world a more beautiful place for others. So I’m actually pretty cool these days when it comes to all of the aforementioned holiday trappings. At least this aspect of our collective karma carries no appreciable charge for me. Ah, but familial karma is always another story.

I’m sure you all know what I’m talking about: You think your practice has gotten fairly solid. You’ve come to see with at least some clarity the nature of your karmic conditioning. You consider yourself a brand new person, willing to let bygones be bygones so that your troubled relationships might proceed on an entirely different footing. And then you go home. I’m sure that everyone will agree that when it comes to testing the strength of your practice, there really is no place like home!

Are you still into that Buddhism thing? Do you really have to do all of that kowtowing stuff? Now, tell me, are you expected to give them any money? Indeed, the  questioning of our adopted spiritual practice is just one of an endless variety of buttons that our families will find, and push, again and again and again. Which reminds me of one of my favorite quotes precisely related to this Buddhist experience of going home. A student of Jon Kabat-Zinn’s once told him: “When I was a Buddhist, it drove my parents and friends crazy, but when I am a Buddha, nobody is upset at all.” By the way, I suppose a Christian could very easily replace Buddhist and Buddha with Christian and Christ-like in the preceding quote and get quite a bit of mileage out of it when circulating in non-Christian circles, don’t you think?





It has occurred to me, however, that there might be yet another way for a Buddhist to embrace the holiday season. As many of you know, Christian theology tells us that Jesus was sent to earth by God precisely so that humans might be saved from eternal damnation. But that is essentially what we vow to do when we accept the bodhisattva vow to save all beings. In fact, there is a figure in Buddhist lore that is actually a very Christ-like one, the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva – “venerated in folk belief as a savior from the torments of hell and helper of deceased children” (Schuhmacher & Woerner). He is often depicted as a monk holding a staff with six rings, one for each of the various realms of existence – that of the gods, that of the titans or demons, that of the humans, that of the animals, that of the hungry ghosts, and, of course, that of the hell-beings (Schuhmacher & Woerner). Please keep in mind that some Buddhists interpret these six realms as the various modes of existence for humans here on earth. Have we not been an occupant of each of these realms over the course of the life that we're presently living?

Might we then take some comfort in the fact that Christians all over the world are about to celebrate the birth of a figure very much like one esteemed by many in our own Buddhist tradition? No, the stories don’t enjoy complete correspondence, but I’m certain that it would be fairly impossible to discern one who is striving to be Christ-like from one who is emulating the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva – and isn’t that what really matters?

In Japan, the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva is known as Jizo. Ksitigarbha’s affinity for children is very much accentuated in the forms of the Jizo statues common there. As can be seen in the images accompanying this post, Jizo statues are commonly crafted with very child-like features due to the fact that they are often erected with a particular child in mind – one who has either been deemed to be in need of Jizo’s assistance in the afterlife or is presumed to have been the subject of his protection in this life. Thus, some Jizo statues are adorned with the clothing of children. I ask you, then, would it really be so strange for us Buddhists to begin associating the day of birth of the baby Jesus with, ahem, the birth of the baby Jizo? {winking respectfully}

I wish everyone of all faiths, and those who profess no faith at all, a peaceful and joy-filled holiday season. But even as I say that, I'm well aware that it will be one of the most trying times of the year for a great many people. Whether this is your first Christmas without one of your loved ones, or whether it always brings with it the pain of a long-ago loss, I wish you peace. Whether it is not so much anticipated for its potential for joy as it is dreaded for the expectation of difficulty and contentiousness, I wish you peace. Whether you fully anticipate it being everything that you dream of or whether you already know that it will fall far short of the magazine spread Christmases that the marketers dearly want you to buy, I wish you peace. Let us aspire this holiday season to simply be as fully human as we can be – neither god nor demon, neither animal nor hungry ghost, and certainly not one of the hell-beings. And if it helps to keep Jizo in mind, then by all means do so!





References


Kabat-Zinn, J. (1994) Wherever you go, there you are: Mindfulness meditation in everyday life. A Hyperion publication.

Sangharakshita, Bikshu (1980). A survey of Buddhism, 5th edition. Shambhala Publications, Inc. in association with Windhorse Publications.

Schuhmacher, S., Woerner, G. (1994). The encyclopedia of Eastern philosophy and religion. Shambhala Publications, Inc.


Image Credits


Jizo with “red scarf” by Chris Gladis via:


Jizo collection at Zozo-ji by Selefant via:


Kamakura Hasedera sculptures by Chris 73 via:




Copyright 2012 and 2018 by Mark Robert Frank

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