I Dare You Not to Smile!

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Others Do Evil, Not Me

In the aftermath of the tragedy this week in Aurora, Colorado, the word "evil" is appearing a lot in the news. Hearing of such horror and suffering, it is indeed hard to articulate the depths of one's feelings when such tragedies occur and to accept that such things can happen.

What is troubling is that "evil" seems to be viewed as an action done by another person in another place.

And it is confusing in light of such poll results, which continue to find that 70% of Americans believe in Hell but barely 1% think they'll go there. I don't have statistics for other countries, but it seems reasonable to believe that Americans are not alone in these thoughts.

So a lot of people think "others do evil, but not me."

As Buddhists, we believe that all beings are by nature good. We often don't do what is good for uncountable reasons. And in not doing good, we all too often stray into doing evil as our thoughts go unnoticed, our speech is careless, and actions remain unchecked. 

We're surprised and don't think before we react.

We're lazy and fall into bad habits.

We're proud and can't bring ourselves to apologize.

We're frustrated and don't think, or care, about what we're doing to others.

We're selfish and ignore the needs and wishes of others.

We're intolerant and don't care about those whom we deem inferior.

We're angry and cannot forgive others.

We're envious. We're afraid. We're deluded. We're ignorant.

But we are not evil. We do evil. Each one of us under the right conditions. And sadly for us there are too many of those "right conditions."

So, with awareness of this, do not focus on what others do, do not be angry at the actions of others. Focus on what you yourself are thinking . . . saying . . . doing.

This is where it all begins. The evil. The goodness.

Ending Conflict through Forgiveness

Esteemed faith leaders, delegates, and quests, religious cooperation, like all cooperation, arises from our mutual understanding and respecting one another. Such cooperation will lead to a peaceful and harmonious existence. Lack of cooperation and understanding coupled with the conviction that I am right and therefore you, with your different beliefs, must be wrong, will lead to anger, reprisals, and conflicts.

The Buddha spoke of this in the Infinite Life Sutra: “The strong overpower the weak, with both of them overwhelming and killing one another in turn. . . . [Karmic foes will] in turn take revenge on one another.” Left unchecked, anger and retaliation become a malicious relationship—one of continual, escalating reprisals. When taking revenge, one will not do it in the exact amount; one will overdo it a little. Therefore, the enmity will grow lifetime after lifetime without end, and the retributions will become increasingly terrible and far-reaching.

How does this happen?

Often, when someone says or does something we do not like, we automatically react out of anger. As Buddhists, we believe this anger started many lifetimes ago. Perhaps one of us said carelessly said something that hurt the other’s feelings. Subconsciously remembering this, upon meeting our again, whether in our next lifetime or a thousand lifetimes, that other person intentionally spoke harshly to us.  

When our angry verbal exchanges were not enough, one of us struck the other. Then one of us killed the other. Then our families and communities were fighting and killing one another, and still the anger grew leading to territorial, ethnic, and religious conflicts, then wars.

Is there any way to stop this cycle of bitterness and retaliation?

Yes. We can do so by moving back down this ladder of escalation.

As an individual, understanding that all I can control is myself, I need to be vigilant and choose how to interact wisely with others. Everything I do begins with what I think.  So the thoughts I keep reinforcing within myself will in time ensure that my reactions become automatic and spontaneous.

How might this work in real life?

In the United States, in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, lives an Amish settlement of more than 180 local church districts. As is the norm, the Amish and the English, what the Amish call Non-Amish people, get along well and live as good neighbors to one another.

On October 2, 2006, on a cloudless autumn day, twenty-six children aged six to thirteen, walked to the West Nickel Mines Amish School. Waiting for school to begin, they played in the schoolyard, older children looking after younger ones. When the bell rang, they went inside the traditional one-room schoolhouse. 

Like most schoolrooms, the walls were decorated with drawings by the children. But there were no computers, no telephones, no electricity. The Amish do not use technology that could threaten the unity and harmony of their community. So, for example, as a rule their children never watch television, thus they would not have been exposed to violent television shows or movies.

On that peaceful day, school began, as usual, with a Bible lesson and recitation of the Lord’s Prayer in which is said, “And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.”

After the morning recess, Charles Carl Roberts, IV, an English neighbor, entered the schoolhouse. He carried a semiautomatic pistol. The young teacher and her visiting mother, knowing three other visiting female relatives were in the room, slipped out the side door and ran across the fields to the nearest farm for help. Roberts tied up the girls assuring them he would not hurt them if they did as he said. Next, he ordered the women to leave and then the boys.

State troopers arrived within minutes of receiving the emergency call from the neighboring farm to find Roberts barricaded inside the school with the girls. When they called out to him, his response was to warn that if they did not leave immediately, he would kill the ten girls “right now.”

One of the oldest girls, thirteen-year-old Marian Fisher, realized what the gunman was going to do. In an attempt to protect and save the younger girls, Marian Fisher said to him, "Shoot me first."

Her eleven-year-old sister, Barbie, said, "Shoot me second."

As the gunman began firing, the police stormed the building, and the gunman killed himself with the pistol.

The call went out: “mass casualty.” State police, ambulance crews, emergency vehicles, and helicopters turned out in a desperate attempt to save the young girls. Family members and friends gathered at the nearest farm to wait word.

Within sixteen hours of the shooting, five of the girls died: Naomi Rose Ebersole aged seven; sisters Lena Miller and Mary Liz Miller, aged seven and eight, respectively; Anna Mae Stoltzfus aged twelve. And Marian Fisher, aged thirteen.

The Nickel Mines School shooting stunned people around the world. In what many viewed as an idyllic hamlet safely tucked away from hatred and violence, ten innocent girls had been shot. Five of them, aged seven to thirteen, died.

Then the world was stunned to learn that two of the girls had calmly offered their lives in the hope of saving those who were younger.

And then the world was even further stunned by the reaction of the Amish. They were in shock and grieved deeply at the sudden loss of beloved children but those who spoke to the media, the police, the hospital staffs did not speak angrily of what had happened. Parents did not cry out “Why?”

Neighbors gathered to bring Amish mutual aid: a quiet presence in the face of grief as they cared for young children, did chores, brought food, and so much more. But the aid did not stop with the families who had lost children. The Amish responded with grace and concern for the gunman’s wife, Amy, and her three children.

Within hours of the shooting, some Amish called on her, not out of anger or bitterness but from deep sympathy for her. Some, including parents who had just buried their children, attended the gunman's funeral. As donations for the Amish started to come in, arrangements were made for some of the funds to go to Amy since she and her children were now without a breadwinner.

Amazingly, the Amish had responded not with an explosion of anger; but with a cocoon of forgiveness. And perhaps this is what stunned the world most of all.

For in a world where retaliation is the norm for wrongs, perceived or real; where grudges are held and nursed; where wars have been fought in the name of religion; in such a world, forgiveness is very rarely the response.

How did the Amish forgive such a heinous act? And so quickly?

In Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy, we read of a bishop saying “Refusing to forgive ‘is not an option, . . . It’s just a normal part of our living. . . . Forgiveness was a decided issue, . . . It’s just what we do as nonresistant people. It was spontaneous. It was automatic.’”[i]

 Just what we do. Spontaneous. Automatic.

To put it simply, the Amish strive to forgive others so that God will forgive them. Did they forgive completely and immediately? Some said they had while others said they were still working on it. But the thought of forgiveness was spontaneous, automatic. There was the intention to forgive and striving to sincerely let go of thoughts of bitterness and retaliation.

As the media reported on what happened, some questioned the rightness of forgiving someone for such an act. How can you forgive someone because then they would have gotten away with their crime?

Our forgiving someone for deeds committed does not mean that he now escapes the consequences for his acts. We have forgiven, not pardoned. Cause and effect tells us that we reap what we sow. Those who do wrong will assuredly reap the consequences. In forgiveness, we do not need to personally judge and punish the other person. Nor do we hold the wish for revenge in our hearts. One who forgives, unconditionally strives to let go of anger and hatred. As the Buddha cautioned, to carry anger is like holding a hot coal waiting to throw it at another. We are the one who gets burned.

Through forgiving, we will be free from bitterness and the wish for retaliation and revenge. Our individual lives will become more peaceful.  Conflicts within us and with others will gradually be resolved and eliminated. And the world will move towards peace and harmony.

---

[i] Kraybill, Donald B.; Nolt, Steven M.; Weaver-Zercher, David L. (2010-03-11). Amish Grace: How Forgiveness Transcended Tragedy (p. 49). John Wiley and Sons. Kindle Edition.

Talk given by Venerable Wuling at “Achieving World Peace Through Religious Harmony and Conflict Resolution” Interfaith Summit, Bangkok, Thailand, May 23-25, 2012

Heart of the Teachings

One day, a famous government official was passing along a road. He saw an old monk teaching Buddhism. Hardly unusual except that the monk was seated on a tree branch.

The official asked the elderly monk what he was doing. After all, the monk was in a very precarious position. One wrong move and he could fall to his death!

The monk replied that the official’s position was even more precarious. If the monk made a careless move, he alone might be killed. But if the official made a mistake, it could cost the lives of thousands.

The official considered this and decided that it was a very good reply. He told the monk that if he could explain the essence of Buddhism in one sentence, he would become the monk’s student.

“Easy!” said the monk. “The essence of Buddhism is to avoid all that is evil, to embrace all that is good, and to purify one’s mind.”

The official scoffed, “Is that all? Even a child of three knows that!"

The monk replied that while it was true that a child of three may know it, there was no certainty that a man of eighty could do it.

Avoid all that is evil. Embrace all that is good. Purify one’s mind.

We all know we should do this, but as the monk wisely pointed out, few do.

Why is this? Is it our lack of trying? Or do we not know exactly how?

Almost 3000 years ago in an area that is now in Nepal, a prince was born. As this future ruler of a prosperous kingdom grew up, he had everything: parents who loved him, the best teachers, admiration from those who knew him, future wealth and power—he had everything. Or did he?

When he was just seven years old, the prince had sat quietly under a tree. As he looked around, he saw insects writhing in pain after being cut by plows that were slicing into the earth. A small bird swooped down to devour the struggling insects and was in turn caught by a larger bird.

Even as a child, the prince recognized suffering.

And the more he looked around him, the more he saw that it wasn’t just animals who suffered.

Every living being suffered.

They suffered from birth and from the pain of having a body that weakened with age. They underwent separation from those they loved and association with those they disliked. They underwent the hardships of living and the pain of death. All these are suffering.

But surely, surely since suffering existed, there was a way to end it!

As time passed, the prince’s need to discover both the cause of suffering and the way to end it become firmly entrenched within him.

Then, one day, he knew it was time. He was to become the future ruler, yet he knew of no way to end the suffering of those he would be responsible for. Nor could he end his wife’s suffering or his newborn son’s suffering. He would be helpless in the face of their sickness, aging, and death.

Knowing his wife and son would be lovingly cared for, and vowing to return when he had found the Way, the prince renounced his life as a future king. He became a wandering seeker for the sake of all beings.

For six years, he sought the Way to end suffering. But none of the traditional practices and knowledge revealed what he sought.

One evening, knowing what he needed to do, he sat down on a pile of grass under a tree. Slowly, he assumed a meditation position. He vowed that even if only his skin, sinews, and bones remained, and his blood dried up and flesh withered away, he would not stir from his seat until he had attained supreme, perfect enlightenment.

Gradually he went deeper and deeper into his meditation, and his heart and mind expanded. He began to search throughout all time, throughout all space. And as the new day was dawning, he realized the cause of suffering and the Way to end it.

The wandering seeker had become Buddha—the awakened one. Finally, he could truly help his family, his subjects, all beings. He would do so by teaching for the remaining forty-nine years of his life.

He taught of four noble truths to help us see that we ourselves create our suffering through our craving. But since we each create our own suffering, we each can end our suffering. How? Through moral self-discipline, meditative concentration, and innate wisdom.

He taught about cause and effect. Everything we think, say, and do will have its resultant consequence, which we will undergo. Understanding this, we will know to be wary of every thought, every word, every deed we are about to do. To be wary of the consequences once the deed is done is futile for then it will be too late.

The Buddha taught us to forgive others. They, like we, act out of ignorance. They, like we, do not truly understand that all our thoughts, words, and deeds will return to us, like fine dust thrown into the air above, like flotsam cast upstream as we stand below.

Those who do wrong will reap the consequences. W e do not need to punish them. We should forgive them and feel sorrow at their future suffering, not anger at their current misdeeds. Forgive them, for it is not up to us to judge and punish them. We do not need to do so.

The Buddha taught us to be tolerant and, then, to go beyond tolerance to care for others with a joyful heart. To not close our hearts to the entreaties, spoken or silent, of others. To instead, open wide our hearts to embrace all beings, knowing they and I are one. Their sorrow is my sorrow. Until they are happy, I cannot be truly happy.

He taught us to unconditionally love all beings, animate and inanimate. To illuminate with love as the sun shines equally on all without differentiation between this one and that one; and without clinging to those it shines on. To love as the sun shines—with warmth and brightness. To love without any expectation of love in return.

The Buddha taught about avoiding evil, doing good, and purifying one’s mind. What if we cannot purify our minds? Then avoid all that is evil and embrace all that is good. And if we cannot embrace all that is good? Then at least avoid all that is evil.

How?

Through ten virtuous deeds. By phrasing these in a positive way, we can strive to avoid committing evil while accomplishing what is good.

I resolve not to kill. Instead, I will respect and have compassion for all beings.

I resolve not to steal. Instead, before taking or using anything, I will ask permission of the owner.

I resolve not to engage in sexual misconduct, or any sensory indulgence. Instead, I will develop the mind of self-restraint and purity.

I resolve not to use false speech. Instead, I will speak the truth in a wise way and at the right time.

I resolve not to use harsh speech. Instead, I will speak words that benefit others and foster peace.

I resolve not to use divisive speech. Instead, I will speak words that foster harmony and understanding.

I resolve not to use enticing speech. Instead, I will speak sincerely and truthfully.

I resolve to refrain from greed. Instead, I will open my heart and practice giving.

I resolve to refrain from anger. Instead, I will develop patience and the compassion to see the suffering of others.

I resolve to refrain from ignorance. Instead, I will discipline myself and calm my mind so that I can act from wisdom.

Suffering is caused and it can end. Forgiveness, appreciation, love, and virtuous conduct. Avoid all that is evil, embrace all that is good, and purify the mind. These are the heart, the essence of the teachings of the Buddhas.

~ Talk given by Venerable Wuling at “Morality & Virtues: A Faith Perspective and Conversation with Faith Leaders” Interfauth Forum, March 17-19, 2012, Toowoomba, Australia

Tarnished Reputation

Question: I have recently encountered challenges at work and even found my integrity being questioned. Naturally, I am very upset. To be honest, I admit it might be partially my mistake. I am worried that my reputation has been hurt.

Response: One of the most painful things that can happen to us is when our integrity is questioned. Feeling the need to explain and set things rights comes not just from our ego being hurt, but the concern that we will not be as trusted in the future.  

Is there any way you can talk to the person? Apologizing for being partially at fault can be very difficult to do, but once done leaves us calmer and happier as we turn something bad into something good--we were humble and apologized, did the best we could to repair and learn from the situation, and can now move on and not dwell on whatever we did that was wrong or unwise. 

If there is not an option to talk to the person or apologize, then you'll need time to repair any damage that might have been done to your reputation. This will happen as you are even more careful about the karmas you commit in the future.

Please understand that any just accusations happened as a consequence of what you did in the past. So you have moved towards repaying a karmic debt. Unjust accusations will also serve to reduce your negative karma. So painful as the situation is, if you react wisely it can be to your advantage. 

With understanding cause and effect, apologizing whenever appropriate, and being patient with the adverse conditions you cannot change and with yourself as you cultivate more, painful situations will gradually lessen.