Spiritual guides or
charlatans?
Raymond Zhou China Daily Asia News
Network December 26,
2015
If you have fame and fortune, what more do you need? It turns out
that many are in need of a personal religious
counsellor.
Zhang Tielin, a movie star from the 1980s who
regained his celebrity status from the 1998 runaway television hit
Princess Pearl, was recently given "Living Buddha" status in Hong
Kong.
The one who granted him this status has since been found to be
someone from Fujian province, named Wu Darong, whose claims of
being a Living Buddha have been refuted by the Tibetan Buddhist
monastery he said had granted him the title.
This piece of news did not surprise anyone. As the joke goes, there
are as many as 300,000 Rinpoches residing in Beijing's Chaoyang
district alone and most of them do not speak Tibetan or
Tibetan-accented Chinese.
Rather, their accent gives them away as hailing from Northeastern
China, or the Tieling area to be specific.
That area has also produced a disproportionate
number of comedians.
So, the running gag portrays them as jobless comedians who fail to
get into a sitcom or sketch comedy.
The figure 300,000 may be an exaggeration, but having lived in this
district for more than a decade, I surmise the stragglers must add
up to several thousands, more than the 1,700 Living Buddhas (as of
2007) officially sanctioned in the nation.
Then again, the Tibetan term Rinpoche covers more than the
reincarnated. It could refer to the respected, the notable and the
learned.
As for the learned, a recent article says that most Rinpoches in
the Chinese capital have not browsed a single Buddhist volume and
when asked about Buddha's teachings they invariably say that it is
beyond the questioner's comprehension.
Whether someone demands respect is, of course, subjective.
A typical Rinpoche reminds me of Moliere's theatrical creation
Tartuffe, whose religious devotion earned him the "respect" of
Orgon and his family. Orgon not only gave him shelter but also
signed over his property and offered him his daughter's hand in
marriage.
I realise it is vulgar of me to say this. But for someone intent on
saving his soul, a house and a daughter could mean less than the
religious guidance of an authority figure.
Just as Tartuffe sparked protest from the French religious
establishment of the time, talk (or ridicule) of all those fake
Rinpoches carries a whiff of disrespect.The code of political
correctness stipulates that we respect others' choices of religion,
and, by extension, the religious chaperones in their lives.
The funny thing is, all those Rinpoches active in the Han area,
whose only connection with Tibetan Buddhism is probably their
crimson robes, act as consorts, assistants or au pairs and have the
potential to be ticking bombs in families, or a dependant in the
least harmful scenario.
The trend is said to have started with showbiz luminaries, whose
entourage would include agents, a phalanx of personal assistants,
an English-language coach, a fitness coach and now a personal
religious leader, who customises your spiritual
enlightenment.
Mind you, while a televangelist speaks to thousands at a venue and
perhaps millions via television, a Rinpoche serves just one person.
No wonder some female stars ended up carrying their babies. But
illiterate as I am about religious niceties, I'm not sure what sort
of Rinpoche is supposed to be celibate a la a Roman Catholic
priest. Honestly, I believe a Chinese update of the Moliere play
could have more twists.
I have met a couple of such people in the past decade. I was once
asked to translate by a friend's friend a little pamphlet written
by a "great man". It started with the origin of man - neither the
Darwin version nor the Christian version, but a fusion of both, -
and many more.
You could have fit in the mythologies of the whole world because it
was vague and very "accommodating". Then it went on to address
world peace. I thought, wow, here is some ordinary Chinese
concerned about such big issues and I was a little moved. Page
after page, the rhetoric grew more grand and grandiloquent. In the
end the author was putting himself in the league of Jesus Christ
and founders of all the mainstream religions in the world.
I requested a meeting with him and found that his purpose was a
photo opportunity with the secretary-general of the United Nations.
So I suggested, why settle for so little? You could have a photo
with Jesus himself. There are many who play him in Hollywood
movies.
After the religious route was denied him, I heard that he opted for
the more pragmatic "Master of Chinese culture" stature, exchanging
the monk's robe for a flowing white beard and grayish robe. That
would require the ability to recite lines from Confucius but less
acting chops than for faking a Tibetan accent and maybe surviving
on a vegetarian diet.
While the most ambitious gravitate toward the likes of Faye Wong
and Jack Ma, celebrity entertainers and business titans, most
Rinpoches settle for a middle-class patron and her three-bedroom
apartment.
And since Chaoyang has the highest concentration of "successful
people", it has become a magnet for the failed actors to the extent
that a "Chaoyang Rinpoche" could be any suspicious Buddhist
evangelist far away from a Tibetan monastery.
The reasons for the rise of the Rinpoches are actually quite
positive: First, a growing segment of Chinese society is affluent
enough to patronise religious personnel or organisations. Second,
they have started to cater to their spiritual needs. It is better
than the blind pursuit of all things material. But besides these
honourable attributes, there could be vanity.
Religion is a private matter. If you flaunt it as if it were a
designer bag, then there'll be those who come to fleece you by
playing the role you want them to but providing nothing but
esoteric puffery and verbal placebo.
If you want someone who can do it in verse, I suggest
Tartuffe.