Kindergarten Ethics

A little over half of those who read this blog live in the US and Australia, the two countries with the largest average carbon footprint per citizen. A reasonable number of the remainder of readers live in countries that are not that far behind these two "leaders." So I believe most of us are in a position to understand what Sharon Astyk wrote on her Casaubon's Book a few days ago.

With kindergarten ethics there’s enough food for every person in the world to eat to fullness, enough water to have everyone drink their fill and still a bit more to grow good things.  There are fish enough in the ocean for each of us to celebrate and enjoy a lobster or fish dinner once in a while.  There’s enough oil in the wells for us to visit beloved family and friends on occasion, and hold a huge family reunion feast.  There are enough trees for each of us to sit in the shade - all 6.6 billion.  There’s enough wealth for all of us to have clothes enough and shoes and a little house.  There’s enough space for all of us to have public parks and most of us to have a little garden somewhere.  There’s enough.  Not as much as you or I might want, having gotten accustomed to more, but enough to make people in Nigeria cry out with delight.  Enough to impress your own great-grandparents. 

In our "kindergarten ethics" worldview, there is enough.

But really, is there "enough"? 

We have yet to break out of our self-focused world and to, instead, look at the world as others see it. It is comforting to think that others can live as we who are fortunate live, comforting to tell ourselves that there is enough for everyone. I count myself in this group, for I still also get hooked by established ways of perceiving the current world situation and thus fail to do all I can, and should.

We live in a world of technology with access to vast amounts of information: a world in which it is our responsibility as intelligent people living in democratic societies to learn the truth even when that truth is frightening or depressing. We live in a world where the Buddha taught to do no harm: a world in which it is our responsibility as ethical people who upon learning what harm is to refrain from doing it.

Frankly, kindergarten ethics is fine for children. But you and I are no longer children.

We are grownups and have the responsibility to act wisely and compassionately. Our practice as Buddhists is not to withdraw from the world and to look after just ourselves. Our practice is to take the strength we derive from our meditation and learning and, with that strength, to turn to face the world. Our practice is making the hard decisions; it is finding the courage to accept the reality that we share this world with almost seven billion people and an uncountable numbers of other beings. Practice is recognizing the suffering of others as acutely as we feel our own.

Practice is realizing that there is NOT enough for everybody—and acting accordingly.  

Why did the Buddha Hesitate?

When Queen Maha Pajapati asked the Buddha to allow her to join the Order, why did he hesitate but give permission later on?

For those who are interested in the ordination of women, this is one of the most puzzling questions, which needs a great deal of contextual understanding.

When King Suddhodana, the Buddha’s royal father passed away, the duty of a wife to her husband was completed. It was the right time for Maha Pajapati to consider following the teaching and the practice of the Buddha seriously. But when she approached and asked for permission the Buddha simply said, “Please do not ask so.” The Tripitaka, which is the most important primary source, did not provide any reason for not allowing women to join the Order.

Many interpretations were given in later commentaries trying to explain the situation. This led also to common belief that the Buddha did not want to allow women to lead a religious life. This is not without basis. According to Indian social mores, to lead a religious life is not the path for women. Manudharma Sastra was very clear to spell out that salvation for a woman is possible only through bhakti (devotion) to her husband.

But Maha Pajapati was unshaken in her decision. After the Buddha had gone, she, along with 500 Sakiyanis (Sakyan women) from the royal court shaved their heads and donned the yellow robes. They followed him on foot until they arrived at Vesali where the Buddha resided. Upon arriving at the arama (residence) they did not ask to have an audience with the Buddha for fear of being rejected again. Ananda, the Buddha’s cousin and personal attendant, found them at the entrance covered with dust, with torn robes and bleeding feet. Many of them were miserable and in tears of desperation. He learned from them of their request and on their behalf approached the Buddha. Again, the Buddha forbade Ananda in the same manner, “Ananda, please do not ask so.”

There are various reasons to be taken in consideration in attempting to understand the possible difficulties or obstacles which presented themselves in the mind of the Buddha.

First of all Maha Pajapati was a queen who, along with 500 ladies of the court, knew only the life of comfort. To lead a reclusive life allowing them only to sleep under the tree, or in the cave, would be too hard for them. Out of compassion the Buddha wanted them to think it over.

Furthermore, accepting a large group of women to be ordained all at once would immediately involve teachers to provide them both instruction and training. The Buddha also could not make himself constantly accessible for them. The Sangha was not ready with competent teachers to handle a large crowd of women. This proved to be a reality later on when women were already accepted to the Sangha. Monks who could teach the nuns must be not only learned but also require an appropriate attitude to help uplift women spiritually.

The Buddha already received criticism from outsiders for breaking up families by ordaining either the husbands or wives. When Maha Pajapati approached him with 500 Sakiyanis, definitely this would be a major cause of criticism. Particularly Sakyas did not marry people from other clans. By allowing 500 Sakiyanis to be ordained would definitely affect the social status quo. But it was revealed that these women’s husbands had already joined the Order. Thus, the criticism that accepting these women would break up their families became groundless.

The fact that these women followed him on foot to Vesali is a proof of their genuine commitment to lead religious lives and removed the doubt that their request might be out of momentary impulse.

These could have been some of the reasons behind the Buddha’s hesitation. The Buddha needed the time to examine both the pros and cons to their request.

Ananda also tried to understand the Buddha’s refusal. Is it because women are not capable of achieving spiritual enlightenment? If that is so, then ordination, a spiritual path is open only to men. To this, the Buddha made it clear that both men and women have equal potentiality to achieve spiritual enlightenment.

We have to mark this statement, as this is the first time in the history of religion that a religious leader declared openly that men and women are equal on spiritual grounds. Previously in the Hindu context, the Vedas, the most sacred religious texts, were available only to men. Buddhism has declared that the highest spiritual achievement transcends obstacles or discrimination of gender. With this important reason, the Buddha allowed women to join his Order.

~ Chatsumarn Kabilsingh, Ph.D.

Past Karmas are the Cause

 

Question: I want to know why bad things happen to good people.  My mom is one of the most amazing and kind people that I have ever known.  She has been kind and compassionate to many people over the course of my lifetime that I have witnessed.  I want to know why she hasn't had a more pleasant life? 

Response: I am so sorry to hear about your mother's difficult life. Our current lives are the result of our past karmas. When good people suffer, they are undergoing the retribution for past misdeeds. By not complaining and trying to help others, your mother is repaying her past debts and planting the seeds for a better future lifetime. And it is possible that she has already begun to improve her life through her kindness to others. As difficult as her life has been, it might have "supposed" to have been even worse.  So her compassion to so many people may have already helped her. We just don't know.

I watched my mother suffer from loneliness in the last few years of her life and do understand your pain for your mother. One day, about a year after my mother had died, something shifted and the daughter in me realized what the nun in me had been saying for many years. All beings in samsara suffer, each in their own way. When there is life, there is suffering.

But the suffering can end. And through our devotion to our parents and our dedication to our practice, we can help ease that suffering. This is the very motivation that enables us to keep going when continuing becomes so difficult.

Going Up?

At the end of the Amitabha Sutra, the Buddha explained that the Pure Land method is hard to believe. What did he mean by this?

Briefly, belief in other methods can increase gradually, but in Pure Land Buddhism one is taking a giant step from samsara (the cycle of rebirth) to the Western Pure Land. Belief is much harder because the step is so high we can’t see over the top. With other methods, we can see what’s on the next step so it’s easier to believe.

Imagine coming from a land where there is much suffering and arriving in a new land. In our old land, we only had small single-story dwellings. But in this new place we see a building that is very high. A kind-looking gentleman smiles gently at us. We approach and ask what is at the top of the building.

The gentleman replies that it is a wonderful place for it doesn’t have all the suffering that our land does. He then tells us that we can go up the building and live at the top if we would like. We ask how we can do that.

He points to some steps and says we can take those but it will take us a very long time. He then points to some closed doors and says that, alternatively, we could take the elevator, which will safely and quickly take us to the top.

We can see the gradual rise of the steps and so we’re okay with the idea of walking up them. But what about this magical device called elevator? What if the apparently nice gentleman isn’t telling us the truth? What if he doesn’t really know what’s at the top of the building? Wouldn’t it be safer to just take the steps?

This is essentially the newcomer’s predicament. We tend to doubt the “quick fix.” In most situations, this is very wise. But doubting the efficacy of the Pure Land method will result in not only our continued suffering, but the suffering of those we wish to help as well.

Mother and Child

One morning, in the spring of 2004, I opened my window blinds, sat down at my desk in front of the window, and glanced out to look at the lawn and pond. Several yards in front of the window, I saw a tiny bunny hovering over the body of a full-grown rabbit. The rabbit had apparently died in a small indentation, about a yard across, in the ground. Throughout the day, I watched as the young bunny ran back and forth over and over across the lawn chasing away a large bird that was trying to get at the dead rabbit.

When not chasing the bird, the bunny bit off mouthfuls of the tall grass growing in the indentation, went to the rabbit, and placed the grass on top of the body. The process took considerable time, as the bunny had to keep chasing off the hungry bird at the same time. The bunny was still trying to fend off the bird when I shut my window blinds that evening.

One morning in the spring of 2005, I saw a grown rabbit hop straight to the spot where the other rabbit had been buried. The rabbit rearranged what remained of the still discernible mound of grass and then hopped back the way it had come from around the side of the building. I did not see the rabbit in 2006, nor in 2007 as I was then working in another room.

It is now spring, 2008. Late Monday night, I returned to the US from two months in Australia. Tuesday, I woke up in the afternoon trying to readjust to a very different time zone. Wednesday was my first morning in about eighteen months to work at my desk in my old spot in front of the window.

The thick grass outside my window was deep and due for the weekly cutting. I could still see the spot where the rabbit had died for the grass has yet to cover the “burial mound.” As I watched, I saw a rabbit come around from the side of the building and hop straight to the spot. It remained a few seconds and hopped off a bit to the left of the spot. Then it hopped straight back to the spot, rearranged some of the dead grass, paused a few seconds, and hopped right back the way it had come from around the side of the building.

Affinities span many lifetimes. They do not involve just human beings. And just as humans can be filial children, other beings can as well.