The Way: Buddha & Christ

Initially, the lives, teachings and deaths of Christ and Buddha seem very different. Jesus of Nazareth, or Christ, was born into relative poverty. Siddhartha Gautama, or Buddha, was born into relative wealth. Christ taught that he was the Messiah. Buddha forbid his followers to worship him. Christ was martyred. Buddha died peacefully. However, the religions based on their teachings both focus on personal responsibility, the awareness and pursuit of truth, and love. Though differences exist, the true practice of the teachings of these men is essentially similar.

The story of Christ states that he was born in circumstances so strained that his mother was forced to give birth to him in a stable. The story of Buddha, on the other hand, states he was born to wealth and comfort. The two beginnings seem like opposites until you take one more step back. The Christian tradition states that Christ existed in Heaven prior to his birth. Thus, Christ and Buddha both lived in seemingly ideal environments and both chose to renounce the comfort and security of those environments in order to pursue truth.

Another similarity is the fact that neither figure chose to leave their ideal environment in order to better their own personal circumstances. Buddha chose to leave his lush surroundings because of his discovery of pain and suffering in others. His lifestyle had to that point insulated him from pain and suffering. He had no personal interest at that time in solving the problem but chose to do so out of compassion for his fellow human beings. Thomas Merton states, “The basic aim of Buddhism…seeks to provide a realistic answer to man’s most urgent question: how to cope with suffering.” Buddhists commonly refer to this as Buddha’s Great Renunciation. Christ chose to leave Heaven and become human out of a similar altruistic desire to solve the problem of pain suffered by humanity. In both stories the central figures abandon positions of privilege and expose themselves to suffering they would not have otherwise felt. This is a sacrifice both figures make in order to solve the problem of pain and suffering for all of mankind. In this way, though only one, Christ, is ultimately killed as a result of his beliefs, both men can be considered martyrs.

When approaching the teachings of these men there is again an initial impression that their teachings are extremely different. Christ seemingly teaches a strange mixture of monotheism and polytheism, presenting a single God composed of three separate personalities: God the Father, God the Son and God the Spirit. Buddha, on the other hand, presents no God figure and his teachings revolve around self-discovery and enlightenment, not worship. Christ insists his followers worship him while Buddha insists his followers should not.

Once again, the two are more similar than expected but it takes a greater understanding of both teachings to find the similarities. In both traditions at one point a person comes to each teacher and asks for a summary of what they are teaching. In the story of Christ, a man approaches and asks what the greatest commandment is. In the story of Buddha, a man asks what Buddha and his monks practice. Their answers seem to emphasize the differences of their teachings. Christ replies that the greatest commandment is to love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength while Buddha states that he and his monks sit, walk and eat. But, once again, one must look closer. Christ adds that in addition to loving God, a man must love himself and his neighbor and he defines a neighbor as transcending race, nationality and even religious conviction; encompassing all humanity. When Buddha is pressed to more clearly define his answer he states, “When we sit, we know we are sitting. When we walk, we know we are walking. When we eat, we know we are eating.” This is an example of the Buddhist concept of mindfulness; being aware of, accepting and loving yourself and the world around you.

These might still seem very different teachings but they are, in fact, remarkably similar. Christ instructs us to love God, love ourselves and love others. More than that, he implies that these acts are all connected; that if we know and love God, we will automatically know and love ourselves and our fellow human beings. In clarifying the Buddhist concept of mindfulness Thich Nhat Hahn states, “To me, mindfulness is very much like the Holy Spirit…When you have mindfulness, you have love and understanding, you see more deeply, and you can heal the wounds in your own mind…all of us also have…the capacity of healing, transforming, and loving.” Both religions state that followers should be aware of their place in the world, of themselves and of their fellow beings and to respond to the world with love and compassion.

The last area in which these two men and the faiths they inspired seem to differ greatly is in their deaths. Christ was killed, dying a violent death as a martyr for his teachings at the age of only 33. Buddha died peacefully at the age of 80. The resurrection of Christ is one of the most important tenants of the Christian religion. While Buddhists do not present the belief that the Buddha was resurrected, they do believe there are two Buddhas; the historic Buddha and what Hahn describes as “the Buddha within ourselves who transcends space and time.” Thus, though both faiths believe their founders to be dead, both faiths also believe these men live on in a spiritual yet very real sense.

While Buddhism and Christianity are, like the men who founded them, very different; there are as many, if not more, similarities as differences between the two. As Hanh states, “We have different roots, traditions, and ways of seeing, but we share the common qualities of love, understanding, and acceptance.” C.S. Lewis wrote something similar: “There have been differences between…moralities, but these have never amounted to anything like a total difference.” You cannot argue against the differences that appear when comparing the lives, teachings and deaths of Christ and Buddha. Yet, neither can you argue against the similarity of the core beliefs of the teachings and, most importantly, the examples they left behind.

Bibliography
Hanh, Thich Nhat. Living Buddha, Living Christ. New York: Riverhead Books, 1995.
Lewis, C. S. Mere Christianity. New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1952.
Merton, Thomas. Mystics and Zen Masters. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1976.
Thurston, Bonnie. "A Chrisitan's Appreciation of the Buddha." Buddhist-Christian Sudies (University of Hawaii Press) 19 (1999): 121-128.

Why blogs are a good thing.

I think blogs are a good thing. That’s not really a radical position for a blogger to take, I know. It may seem that it bears no explanation but I’m going to explain anyway because I’m a blogger and it’s kinda what I do.

Blogging is good for historians.

Blogs are a form of journal writing and journals have proven to be incredibly useful tools for historians. The fact that people who want to understand a wide range of public thought and reaction to major events now don’t have to wait until the writers die or are far enough removed from those events they feel comfortable publishing their thoughts in the form of a memoir (often by semi-ruining the information with what Shakespeare called ‘the pale cast of thought’ or what I call retrospective introspection) is, I think, a good thing. With the magic of blogging, you gather information on the immediate thoughts and feelings of people from vastly different walks of life by doing a simple Google search.

Blogging is good for bloggers.

People who are intimidated by a bound book of empty pages demanding to be filled can often find blogging a vastly more approachable medium. The fact that you are often writing to an audience encourages perseverance and persistence when many would have otherwise given up on writing a journal. Why is that good for bloggers? Because journaling and blogging create a scenario in which we actually sit down and think about our lives and the world around us. We take the time to consider events and how they might be affecting our feelings, leanings and even world view. This allows us to learn more from our successes and failures and about ourselves. The ability to look back and read past blogs allows us to understand the reasons we came to certain conclusions at the time we drew those conclusions. Believe it or not, the ability to objectively revisit emotionally motivated logic is an incredibly affective tool in the process of refining the series of beliefs and principles that make up our person.

Blogging is good for readers.

I mentioned historians because they’re a special case and reading doesn’t necessarily describe what they do with journals/blogs; with them it’s more like dissecting and discerning. A reader just sort of takes it in.

Blogging is good for readers in exactly the opposite way objective presentation of facts is good for readers. Objective presentations allow us the freedom to look at facts and form independent opinions. Blogging is good because it not only exposes us to vastly arrayed differences of opinion; it often shows us the process the writer’s thoughts took to come to those opinions. Thus, we not only are presented with a differing point of view but also the reasoning and facts that led to that point of view. We get to see that people who disagree with us don’t do so because they’re just deceived/deceivers with a malicious predisposition etc. There is a whole life’s history that goes into each person’s views on life, the universe and everything and readers get to see that. This causes us to be more sympathetic of those other experiences and, better, to learn from those experiences.

It’s like making plans to place your hand on a hot stove and then reading an account of what happened when someone else did the same thing. By reading the thoughts and experiences of others, you can save yourself.

Another way of putting it might be this: Life is a mine field and our experiences form the map we use to traverse it. As I move forward, I either develop theories about where mines are located or determine through painful experience exactly where mines are located. By reading of the experiences of others, I not only can learn the exact location of some mines, I can also gain knowledge that refines my theories about where possible mines are located. My map only covers a small part of the field. Blogging is, in effect, sharing my map with the world. Reading blogs is allowing the world to add to my map and refine it. The end result hopefully being that I step on fewer mines and live a longer, happier life.

Blogging is good for the world.

I love the movie A Far Off Place. There is a scene at the beginning of the film where Reese Witherspoon’s character is arguing with her father about the ethicacy and efficacy of two different approaches to the problem of poaching. He believes in addressing it peacefully and she believes in hunting down the poachers and shooting them.

Nonie: You know, Dad, people need to stand up and fight for what they believe in, or things will never change.

Nonie’s Dad: People need to sit down and talk, or people will never change.

I think blogging is yet another wonderful chance for global communication. I get to sit at my computer and read the inner thoughts of a teenager in the U.K., a world-wise woman in the Netherlands or a struggling musician on the East Coast of the U.S. There are so many different people with so many different paths and points of view. The ability to share the world with them and be aware of the fact that I share this world with them is an amazing gift; one that should be shared.

Crazy Conversations

My husband and I are a little crazy, I think. At least, we have these crazy-people conversations. It seems like the really crazy/silly conversations happen when we're getting ready for bed. I think it's mostly his fault.

For example, I got a new shampoo that I thought made my hair smell nice. I ask a simple question and this is what happened.


Me: Smell my hair. Doesn’t it smell nice?

Hubby: (Laughs) Smell my butt. It smells nice.

Me: No it doesn’t.

Hubby: How do you know it doesn’t? Have you smelled it?

Me: No. I don’t have to. It smells like butt. You know how I know? Because it IS a butt.

Hubby: Not necessarily. For all you know my butt could smell like daisies. You don’t know, because you haven’t smelled it. You wanted me to smell your hair but you won’t smell my butt.

Me: There’s a big difference between smelling someone’s hair and smelling someone’s butt.

Hubby: My butt has hair and I submit to you that the hair on my butt smells like daisies and until you’re willing to smell my butt and prove me wrong you’re going to have to concede that.

Me: So be it. Your butt smells like daisies. Are you happy?

Hubby: Very.

Me: You won’t be.

Hubby: What does that mean?

Me: Oh nothing.

Hubby: Okaaaay. … Good night.

Me: Good Night, Daisy.

Hubby: … Touché.