Is Faith a Part of Buddhism?

Buddhism is often identified with personal effort. I would go so far as saying that the attractiveness of moving Buddhism out of the supernatural and into the natural has more to do with the secularization of the West then with the factual nature of the development of Buddhism narratives, which, like their Western counterparts, are diversified by various beliefs and opinions.

I certainly understand the need for spiritualism. We hypothesize root causes. Personal effort appeals to a certain type of spiritual person who does not identify with naming a God and all the baggage this carries. It removes the responsibility of defending doctrinaire accounts of the faith and allows them to move fluidly through the tradition without having to deal with what they dislike. I get it.

Buddhism, at least in the form it is often received in the West, may siphon out factors that are not necessarily testaments to human effort. However, it is important to note that other forms of Buddhism do not. I was reminded of this in an exchange I had at the regional American Academy of Religions meeting. As I was speaking with Dr. John Thatamanil (Union Theological Seminary), he spoke of a kind of “protestant reformation” that occurs in Buddhism in about 9^th-12^th century and becomes the standard expression in Japanese Buddhism. It was something that I have been connecting now for some time. By "protestant reformation," we were of course thinking of the move from a works-based form of religious expression to one of confessional form. This is perhaps not the greatest expression of all the reformation addressed and leaves room for expansion, but it does get at a similar concept in Shin Buddhism: the ordering of jiriki and tariki.

There are three narratives that come to mind that suggest Buddhism is not consigned to the bank of merit it has often been romanticized in.

Shin Buddhism is the most obvious expression here. Here, the name of Amida Buddha is venerated. By recitation of the name, strength is found in the other (the practice known as tariki) as opposed to jiriki, the practice of inner-self concentration.

A second example is the story of the Buddha who comes to his friend Gopala. The latter begs the Buddha not to leave him for fear he will fail in his sadhana (spiritual exercises) and return to adharma. So the Buddha leaves the imprint of his shadow on a cave wall. This is supposed to infuse righteousness that makes Gopala’s ability to keep dharma possible.

A third form found in Tibetan Buddhism is the Sutra Pagpa Chulung Rolyay Do. It is a mantra that was written by Lama Zopa Rinpoche, and it is thought that merely casting one’s gaze upon it purifies one of negativity for many eons. There is a resemblance to the nehushtan in this manner of “faith” (the story of Moses and the bronze serpent). Certainly John thought it a faith-act, as the gospel writer records, “just as Moses lifted up the serpent, Jesus was also to be lifted up.” (John 3:14)

 

How You Should Read Matthew 26:11 in Relation to Deuteronomy 15:11. An Easter Reflection

The soon coming of the Lord Jesus beacons our attention as Easter is just around the corner! So I was thinking today on Jesus’ use of Jewish Bible passages relevant to his own teachings and Deuteronomy came to mind. The verse comes in the context of how to deal righteously with debts, debtors, and the poor. In Deuteronomy 15:11.

There will always be poor people in the land.

Jesus reported spoke similar words, “The poor you will always have among you, but me only for a short time.” (Matthew 26:11 - notice the fact that this comes as the 11th verse in both bibles is just coincidence!)

It is an interesting theological exercise to try to imagine what the writer of the gospel was thinking when he wrote these words. We know the verse occurs in the context of a woman anointing Jesus’ head with expensive perfume and the disciples arguing that it was a wasteful act. But the author reminds us that such things were done as a preamble to Jesus’ own burial.

The plain exegetical sense of the statement is hard to resist, especially when compared to its counterpart in Deuteronomy 15:11, another verse about money, the poor, and generosity.

Both verses tell us there will always be poor. And if we interpret this literally, always means always.  Really? But what about the age of the messiah, when all wrongs will be righted and all people will come to worship the one true God? Jesus doesn’t answer in this context, and so as some Christian scurry to claim that the last part of this verse is only in reference the end of his physical body (because, after all, Jesus is God divine), they conveniently do some interpretive gymnastics with the first part of the verse, consigning the always to the course of history…but not Jesus whom they parcel out in two natures!

Again, it is helpful if we go to Judaism and get an idea of what the Tannaim or Amoraim may have been thinking at the time when they also read such a verse. An early tractate in the Talmud called Berakhot, has an interesting take on the verse. Folio 34B reads:

There is no difference between this world and the days of the Messiah except the oppression of the heathen kingdoms alone, as it is said, “For the poor shall never cease from the land” (Deuteronomy 15:11)

So here we have the verse read as a gemara in a messianic context, precisely the kind of thing we’d want to see if reading about Jesus the messiah.

Yet the tractate specifically says, even in the time of them messiah, the poor will still be around. So is inequality, injustice part of the messianic reign? They are other verses that talk about an age of peace, but clearly the interpretive trend here was to read the verse literally. It means that Jesus too read the verse literally, and so to tag onto the second part of the verse, some rather forced sophistication about the separation of the two natures of Jesus, the body and soul, feels contrived to say the least. Jesus thought his end was coming. He thought he would die. End of story.

 

But now we are free to return to our theology!

If I interpret both ends of the verse faithfully, Jesus would be saying that the poor will indeed always be here insofar as the messianic age is concerned, and I will not. So, is he denying his messianic call? Denying is a strong accusation. If you are believer and looking to preserve the integrity of a faithful understanding of the verse in the tradition of a systematic theology that avoids problematic exegesis, one may simply plead that Jesus in the gospel is ignorant of the incarnation. In the garden he seems to be rattled. He seems to give up hope in various places, and in others seem sure about himself and his mission.

Furthermore, this story is shadowed in John at precisely the same time of his betrayal! In John, however, it is Judas, not the disciples who talk about wasteful acts of charity and giving. In both gospels Jesus rebukes them. John, where we would expect Jesus to say something like “you will have me for a short time, but I will rise again” – at least I this context, does not. I have a much easier time reading Matthew 26 without doing exegetical stunts, then say if it had occurred in the gospel of John the intermingling of Jesus’ two natures is obvious much more developed.