The Need of the
Hour
Bhikkhu Bodhi FALL 2011
tricycle
A new vision and scale of values are necessary
measures for safeguarding our world.
It’s hardly a secret that human recklessness
is reaching a critical mass, threatening not only our collective
sanity but even our long-term survival. Ever more powerful and
impersonal weaponry, endless warfare, super-quick changes in
technology, a volatile global economy, the widening gap between the
ultrarich and everyone else, climate disasters, species extinction,
and ecological devastation: these crises are escalating out of
control, and even what was once the most idyllic South Pacific
island offers no escape. We’ve got to find ways to put our house in
order, and we’ve got to do so fast; otherwise the rapid descent of
our civilization towards collapse seems unavoidable.
The critical problems that loom over
us—economic, political, and ecological—can be dealt with in either
of two ways. One is the symptomatic approach favored by policy
wonks and conventional liberal politicians, who view each problem
as distinct and propose tackling them through more finely tuned
policies. The other approach is holistic. It looks at these
problems as interwoven and mutually reinforcing, seeing them as
objectifications of our subjective propensities mirroring back to
us the distorted ways we relate to ourselves, other people, and the
natural world. From this angle, any effective solution requires
that we make fundamental changes in ourselves—in our views,
attitudes, and intentions. These can then ripple out, coalesce, and
inspire transformative action.
I suggest that it is the task of
religion—understood broadly as comprising forms of spirituality
that don’t necessarily constitute an organized faith—to offer us
guidance in making those redemptive changes. In trying to implement
them we can expect to meet hardened resistance both from mainstream
culture and our own entrenched habits. To understand the necessity
of change, we must consider not only our short-term personal
advantage but also the long-range impact our choices have on others
we will never know or see: on people living in remote lands, on
generations as yet unborn, and on the other species that share our
planet.
What is required of us is to adopt a panoramic
ethical point of view that takes us far beyond the bounds of mere
expediency. By connecting us to the deepest sources of ethics,
religious consciousness can play a pivotal role in promoting the
inner transformations needed to ward off collapse. But for religion
to guide us through the approaching storms, the scope of religious
consciousness must itself be extended and deepened. We have to draw
out from classical spiritual teachings fresh implications and
applications seen against the cultural and intellectual horizons of
our time.
I have found that by balancing fidelity to
tradition with relevance to the present, the classical teachings of
Buddhism can be newly formulated to meet the challenges of the
historical moment. Classical Buddhism at its core is a path of
personal liberation, but its rich array of principles and practices
offer powerful tools for accelerating the type of inner growth that
can promote outer transformation. Specifically, Buddhism offers us
two complementary perspectives that can guide us in our engagement
with the world. One pertains to our way of understanding ourselves,
the other to our relationship with other living beings. These two
perspectives are, respectively, the wisdom of selflessness and
universal compassion. Though distinct, the two are closely bound,
and in their unity they provide a potent antidote to our current
perilous drift.
The wisdom of selflessness, according to the
Buddha’s teaching, is the necessary remedy for the false sense of
personal identity that normally hovers in the background of our
minds. This misplaced sense of personal identity has harmful
ramifications on at least three fronts: in relation to material
things, in relation to ourselves, and in relation to other people.
In relation to things, it gives rise to inordinate greed and
acquisitiveness. In relation to ourselves, it leads to attempts to
enhance our self-image by acquiring wealth and status. In relation
to other people, it engenders envy, competitiveness, and lust for
power.
The Buddha says that these compulsions, the
causes of our suffering, originate because we implicitly take
ourselves to possess a truly existent self. The wisdom of
selflessness is designed to dispel the delusion of self and thereby
free us from suffering. To develop this wisdom, we closely examine
the factors around which the idea of self congeals, the “five
aggregates” of bodily form, feeling, perception, volitional
activities, and consciousness. By mindfully attending to them, we
see that all the aggregates—the factors of our being—are
impermanent, composite, and ever changing. Each lacks the
persistency essential to selfhood and thus turns out to be
selfless. Insight into the selfless nature of the five aggregates
breaks the bondage of craving, enabling us to realize transcendent
liberation, nirvana.
While classical Buddhism proposes insight into
the selfless nature of personal identity as the key to liberation,
this same insight can be given an extended application to purge us
of the greed, lust for domination, and complacency responsible for
our current predicament. To extend the wisdom of selflessness, we
shift its focus from an analysis of the composite nature of
personal identity to an exploration of the wide web of
conditionality. If things lack substantial existence because they
are impermanent and composite, they also lack substantial existence
because they arise and persist in dependence on an intricate
network of conditions. Insight into the interdependency of
phenomena reveals that the very being of things is a system of
relations. Things exist not as self-sufficient entities but as
temporary nodules in a fluid current of energies.
Reflection on conditionality begins with
oneself. We consider how our own body is constituted of the food we
eat, which depends on soil, water, and sunshine; on the labor of
those who grow the food and the transport that brings it to market.
Our body depends on air, water, and heat. We wear clothes made from
cotton and wool and synthetics. The cotton depends on cotton
fields, and on those who work the fields, and those who weave it
into threads and turn the threads into fabric and the fabric into
clothes. Our own bodies are the end product of an evolutionary
chain that goes back to the Big Bang, to the stars, galaxies, and
stardust. This body encapsulates every stage in the long march of
evolution, from the first cells that appeared billions of years ago
in the ancient oceans. Every organ, tissue, and cell records in its
DNA the entire history of life. Our culture is the end product of
human civilization, from the first groups of hunter-gatherers to
the first settled agrarian communities to the mighty empires of the
ancient world, all the way up through the science, art, and
technology of the 21st century. All the inhabitants of this planet
are intertwined, from corporate CEOs in the skyscrapers of
Manhattan to factory workers in China to farmers in Iowa to
meatpackers in Wisconsin to the techno- wizards of Bangalore to the
armed kids in the Congo to the indigenous peoples of Brazil and
Borneo.
From the human realm we can move outward in
widening circles until our insight encompasses all forms of
sentient and nonsentient life. Seeing how all living beings are
bound together in the most intricate symbiotic relationships, we
respect all forms of life. Seeing how all living beings are engaged
in a continuous exchange of materials with their surroundings, we
regard the environment as sacrosanct—precious for its instrumental
value, as the sphere in which life unfolds, and precious for its
intrinsic value, as a domain of mysterious intelligence, beauty,
and wonder.
This is not abstract theory but the groundwork
for a transformative discipline. To see into the interconnectedness
of all living things is to see how all living things are part of a
unified field that contains all, and at the same time to see that
this entire field is embodied by each being, constituted of its
cells, organs, nervous system, and consciousness. Correct cognition
entails appropriate action. It issues in an ethic that bids us
consider the long-term effects our deeds exert on other people, on
all beings endowed with sentience, and on the entire
biosphere.
In minimal terms, this means that we cannot
tolerate behavior that endangers vast sections of the world’s
population. We cannot use the earth’s resources in ways that result
in the mass extinction of species, with unpredictable results. We
cannot spend billions on the fratricidal activity of war, while a
billion people suffer from hunger, sleep on the streets, and die
from easily curable illnesses. We cannot burn fuels that
irreversibly alter the climate, or discharge toxic substances into
our water and air, without initiating chain reactions that will
eventually poison ourselves.
For the spiritual life to unleash its full
potential as a fountainhead of grace and blessings, the wisdom of
selflessness on its own is not sufficient. Wisdom has to be joined
with another force that can galvanize the will to act. The force
needed to empower wisdom is compassion. Both wisdom and compassion
shift our sense of identity away from ourselves toward the wider
human, biotic, and cosmic community to which we belong. But where
wisdom involves a cognitive grasp of this fact, compassion operates
viscerally.
The systematic development of compassion
begins with the cultivation of lovingkindness. Lovingkindness is
said to be the basis for compassion because, in order to sympathize
with those in pain, we first must empathize with them and desire
their welfare. The feeling of love for beings—ourselves
included—makes us care about their happiness and well-being. Then,
when they meet suffering, our hearts are stirred and we reach out
to help them.
Compassion evolves from lovingkindness by
narrowing the focus from beings in a generic sense to those
afflicted by suffering. To develop compassion systematically, one
brings to mind people in pain and distress, generating the wish
“May they be free from suffering.” Perhaps the most suitable type
of people with which to begin the practice are children. They
should be real people, not imaginary, and one should choose
specific individuals. If you don’t personally know such children,
choose a few you may have read about in the news: the girl in Sri
Lanka who lost her parents in the 2004 tsunami; the boy in the
Congo forced to fight in armed conflict; the young woman in
Cambodia sold into the sex trade; the neighbor’s son who is beset
by an incurable illness. Feel each child as your own, and inwardly
share their plight.
To expand the feeling of compassion, we next
bring to mind a few mature people undergoing different forms of
suffering. Again, these can be people one knows personally or has
read about in the news. But we should avoid individuals whose
misfortune will arouse indignation and those whose suffering is
likely to cause worry and dejection. Having selected four or five
people, we identify deeply with each, sincerely wishing that they
be free from suffering. We repeat this process again and again,
taking each person in turn, until compassion spontaneously swells
up in our hearts. Then, in graded steps, we extend compassion over
the whole earth and finally to afflicted beings in all realms of
existence.
Traditional Buddhism describes boundless love
and compassion as liberations of the heart (Pali, cetovimutti) that
free us from ill will, cruelty, and indifference. They are called
divine dwellings (brahmaviharas) because those who practice them
radiate holy wishes for the welfare, happiness, and security of all
beings. Given, however, the gravity of the crisis that confronts us
today, it is questionable whether the merely inward cultivation of
such virtues is sufficient. If love and compassion don’t find
expression in concrete action, they could remain purely subjective
states, lofty and sublime but inert, unable to exert any beneficial
influence on others. While able to lift us to the heights, they
might bind us there, limiting our ability to descend and pour out
their blessing power into the troubled, anxious world in which we
live. In my understanding, the crisis of our age requires that
wisdom and compassion jointly acquire an immanent, transformative
function that can give a new direction to our collective life. The
key to this transformation is what I call “conscientious
compassion.” This is a compassion that does not confine itself to
passively wishing good for others but courageously takes the steps
necessary to help them: to remove their suffering and bring them
real happiness. This is a compassion informed by the voice of
conscience, which continually reminds us that too many of our
fellow beings, human and animal alike, are unjustly condemned to
lives of misery. Conscientious compassion boldly enters the fray of
action, not afraid to engage with politics, economics, and programs
of social uplift. It tells us that we need to treat people as ends
rather than as means, ensuring that they are protected against
exploitation and injustice. It is at once a compassion that acts
and a sense of conscience that remains ever open to the pain of the
world.
The spur to conscientious compassion
is a
keen recognition of our own responsibility for transfiguring life
on earth. When we feel, deep inside, that others are not
essentially different from us, our lives will undergo a sea change.
Convinced that we can make a difference, we will actually exert
ourselves to make that difference. We will then live, not for our
narrow ends rooted in egocentric grasping, but for the welfare and
happiness of the whole. While pursuing the transcendent good, we
won’t neglect the ethical and cosmic good. Inspired by a wide and
profound vision of our ultimate potential, we will work
unflinchingly within this conditioned realm to build a global
community committed to social justice, pledged to peace, and
respectful of other forms of sentient life.
To shift gears from contemplative compassion
to conscientious compassion, we have to find a personal calling, a
task that enables us to change the world for the better. Each of us
has some task, some way to practice conscientious compassion. The
question is: How do we find that task? To find it, a specific
method can be prescribed (for which I am indebted to my friend
Andrew Harvey). At the outset, practice the usual meditation on
compassion, perhaps for 20 or 30 minutes. Then focus your attention
on several of the formidable problems that loom before humanity
today: futile and self-destructive wars, rampant military spending,
global warming, violations of human rights, poverty and global
hunger, the exploitation of women, our treatment of animals, the
abuse of the environment, or any other concern that comes to mind.
Reflect briefly on these problems, one by one, aware of how you
respond to them. You can repeat this procedure for several days,
even daily for a week. At some point, you will start to recognize
that one of these problems, more than the others, tugs at the
strings of your heart. These inner pangs suggest that this is the
particular issue to which you should dedicate your time and
energy.
But don’t be hasty in drawing this conclusion.
Rather, continue to explore the issue cautiously and carefully,
asking yourself: “Does this issue break my heart open and cause a
downpour of compassion? Does this urge gnaw at my vital organs?
Does it point the finger to the door and tell me to do something?”
If your answer to these questions is “Yes,” that is your vocation,
that is your sacred calling, that’s where you should put
conscientious compassion into action. This doesn’t mean you neglect
other issues. You remain open and responsive to other concerns, but
you focus on the issue that tugs at your heart and bids you to
act.
This enlargement of mission, I believe, may
well mark the next decisive step in the evolution of Buddhism and
of human spirituality in its wider dimensions. I see this as a
shared endeavor that transcends specific faiths and provides a
broad canopy under which different religions and spiritual
movements (including secular humanism) can gather in harmony. In my
thinking, for human spirituality to evolve to the next level it
must resolve the sharp dualisms that prevail in older spiritual
traditions: between worldly life and world-transcendence, outer
activity and inner peace, cosmos and eternity, creation and God.
Instead of devaluing one in favor of the other, the progression to
a more complete stage of spirituality—one corresponding to our
present understanding of life and the universe—calls for
integration rather than separation. Our need is to embody the
realization of enlightened truth securely within the horizons of
humanity’s historical and cosmic adventure. Our mission is to enact
enlightened truth in a way that contributes to the human and
universal good.
In making such a statement, I am aware that I
am going beyond the boundary posts of traditional Buddhist
doctrine, whether Theravada or Mahayana. However, I believe that
any religion, including Buddhism, best preserves its vitality
through an organic process of growth, and I don’t see such growth
as necessarily entailing a fall from a primal state of perfection.
While remaining faithful to its seminal intuitions, a spiritual
tradition can absorb, digest, and assimilate new insights supplied
by its intellectual and cultural milieu and by the advancing edge
of knowledge. These influences can draw forth potentials implicit
in the older teaching that could not emerge until the appropriate
cultural transformations evoked them and allowed them to
flower.
In a world torn by violence, oppressed too
long by projects aimed at domination, I believe that a
conscientious compassion guided by wisdom is the most urgent need
of the hour. In adopting this integral approach to spirituality,
however, I see our task as involving more than merely avoiding
environmental devastation, providing others with enough food to
eat, and paving the way to respect for human rights. In my
understanding, our larger task is to give birth to a new vision and
scale of values that replaces division with integration,
exploitation with cooperation, and domination with mutually
respectful partnership. The overcoming of clinging through the
wisdom of selflessness, the development of empathic love, and the
expression of both in conscientious compassion have today become
imperatives. They are no longer mere spiritual options, but
necessary measures for safeguarding the world and for allowing
humankind’s finest potentials to flourish.