Beyond Heaven and Earth

by Steven H. Propp

  “That’s correct,” replied Jackie. “So that’s one of the ways we know that Tibetan teachings are accurate, because there is a literal continuation of teachings from one lama to another, throughout the centuries.”

  Jobran said, “One major question I have about the Tibetan Book of the Dead and its relation to modern Tibetan Buddhist practice, is do you consider this to be a literal statement of what one should do with a dying person?” There was no immediate answer, so Jobran continued, “I thought that while most scholars felt it was somewhat like the Egyptian Book of the Dead, in that it was of tremendous historical interest, but it isn’t thought to be a literal and accurate account of what happens after death.” He made a gesture with his upturned palms, and said, “I mean, you wouldn’t sit around literally reading the Tibetan Book of the Dead into the ears of someone who died yesterday, would you? Complete with its imagery of ‘blood-drinking Wrathful Deities,’ ‘Lords of Death,’ and such?”

  “I would,” Jackie said, unhesitatingly. “Chapter and verse, straight through the Evans-Wentz translation.” Passionately, she added, “You have to realize that the information in the text is coming from persons who have themselves experienced the death and rebirth process; so it’s not ‘hearsay.’”

  Jobran decided to abandon the point, and instead said, “Speaking of the Dalai Lama: he’s about age 70 now, isn’t he?” There were nods from most of the group. “Since the Communist Chinese forced he and his followers out of Tibet into India, what do you think will happen to his successor? Will his successor be born in Tibet, where it would be difficult to lead his own people? Or might he be born outside of Tibet—in India, perhaps, or even in the Western world?” The group looked stumped.

  Steve looked thoughtful, and said, “That’s a good question; I don’t know.” Then he thought for a moment, and said, “I’m sure that those are all factors that the next Dalai Lama will take into consideration when choosing the circumstances of his rebirth.”

  “You say ‘his’ rebirth,” Jobran said, with a devilish glint in his eyes. “Would the next Dalai Lama necessarily have to be male? Or could he be reincarnated as a female?”

  Jobran felt as if the room became instantly polarized into two groups: male and female. Steve seemed to sense this, and tried to defuse it by saying, “Well, to this point the Dalai Lamas have always been male—but that’s not to say that this can never change.” He looked at his watch, and said, “Anyway, I think our time is up for this evening. All of us have to go to work tomorrow.” Turning to Abraham and Jobran, he said, “We enjoyed having you visit. You’re more than welcome to come back; Monday is our ‘Book Study’ night, but at the rest of our meetings, we actually practice meditation, as our teacher has shown us how.”

  “We enjoyed being here,” Abraham said, with sincerity.

  “It was very interesting,” Jobran added, and they all shook hands.

  “The meditation sessions during the week are more fun, and less philosophical,” Heidi added.

  “We’ll certainly keep it in mind. We appreciate all your hospitality,” Jobran said, and he led the way to the door.

  * * *

  As they walked back to the car, Jobran asked Abraham what his thoughts were about the experience.

  “It really was interesting,” he replied. “I’ve often thought about trying to start some kind of meditation practice for myself; I’ve read people like Rabbis David Zeller and David Cooper, who teach meditation practices based on the Kabbalah.” He was silent for a moment, then added, “Sometimes, I think that I’m somewhat lacking in the experiential component of religion, which is what Jackie said attracted her to Buddhism.” He suddenly grinned, and said, “Of course, I suppose I could always become a Hasidim, and engage in dancing and singing all the time.”

  “That would be fine,” said Jobran, letting his hand rest gently on Abraham’s shoulder as they walked. “The world needs more singing Rabbis.”

  “Oh, well,” Abraham said, pretending to sigh. “Maybe I can make up for it in my next lifetime.”

  “It’ll probably take more than one,” Jobran replied, grinning.

  17

  THE PURE LAND

  The secretary opened the office door, and Jobran and Abraham were admitted into the small, simple, and immaculately clean office. The wall behind the desk was completely taken up by a large bookshelf filled with books; another wall was filled with beautiful plants and flowers, a third wall was dominated by a large picture window, over which the curtains were half-drawn. Closing the door behind them, Jobran saw that the wall with the door had half-a-dozen paintings or drawings, in an Oriental style; Jobran stopped to look at them, interested.

  “Please come in,” said a quiet voice from behind the desk. A middle-aged Asian man with a full head of neatly-combed gray/black hair and thick glasses calmly rose, and came to greet the visitors.

  This brought Jobran immediately back to reality. Walking toward the man with his own hand outstretched, he said, “I’m Jobran Winter, and this is Rabbi Abraham Kaplan,” and they all shook hands.

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” said the Asian man quietly, folding his hands in front of him, and nodding. “I am Reverend Kenneth Hirota, the Rinban, or senior minister of this sangha, or congregation. Will you please have a seat?” he said, as he indicated two chairs in front of the desk, and they all sat down.

  Abraham said, “Can I ask a question? Your sign outside calls you the ‘Buddhist Church of Stentoria,’ but this brochure I was reading calls you the ‘Stentoria Betsuin.’ Is ‘Betsuin’ another name for ‘congregation’ or ‘church’?”

  “Actually, betsuin is an honorary title bestowed by our headquarters in Kyoto, Japan upon our churches which were founded in the early years of our movement in this country. A betsuin also has administrative and spiritual responsibilities for smaller branches in the area,” Reverend Hirota replied, and Abraham nodded.

  “First of all, thank you for the literature you sent me, and for making time in your schedule to talk with us,” Jobran said.

  “Not at all,” said Reverend Hirota pleasantly. “In fact, I was rather surprised by your letter of inquiry. We don’t make any attempts at ‘evangelization’ outside our own community and cultural tradition…”

  “Neither do we,” interrupted Abraham, causing Reverend Hirota and Jobran to turn to look at him. Slightly embarrassed, he added, “In Judaism, I mean.”

  Reverend Hirota nodded, then continued, “Almost all of the members of our congregation are Japanese, and those who aren’t frequently first became associated with us through marriage to member of our sangha.” He gave a small smile, and added, “However, all congregations of the Buddhist Churches of America warmly welcome members of all races and ethnic groups. In the BCA, we even have some ministers—including women—who are not of Japanese background. If you attend one of our Sunday services or educational meetings, you will see that we have members who are Caucasian and African-American, as well. The Buddhist Dharma and our sangha are open and welcoming to all persons, from all backgrounds.”

  “Well, speaking for myself, Buddhism can be very confusing to people who are not raised in the background and traditions,” Jobran said. “I had thought I understood it fairly well: I knew the difference between Theravada, Mahayana, and Vajrayana; I knew the Four Noble Truths, and the Noble Eightfold Path; I had heard of Vipassana or ‘insight’ meditation. But having studied the literature you sent me, as well as the other books, I must say that I think I may be more confused now than I was before,” Jobran said, and the other two laughed. “Buddhism is far more complicated than I thought at first.”

  Indicating Jobran with his thumb, Abraham said to Reverend Hirota, “You have to understand: this is a guy who thinks he can read a few books about a subject, and then grasp it completely.” Jobran blushed, and Abraham continued, “I told him that you can read all the books abo
ut Judaism you want, but that still doesn’t mean that you can tell the difference between gefilte fish and lox!”

  Reverend Hirota nodded, and said, “Unfortunately, there is a great deal of misinformation in this country about the various Buddhist traditions.” Smiling, he said, “We occasionally get visits from college students who are researching a term paper on Zen, or people who have seen a Hollywood actor photographed with the Dalai Lama, and think that ‘it would be really cool to go to a Buddhist church’—but of course, they are disillusioned and bored when they see what we’re really about.”

  Jobran said with a grin, “They probably think, ‘This is no different from a regular church!’” and they all laughed.

  Reverend Hirota said, “That’s probably correct—although hopefully they see the differences between our more meditative worship services, and a Christian church. Still, I think they are expecting to open our door and find shaven-headed monks sitting cross-legged in meditation for hours at a time—as you would have with Soto or ‘sitting’ Zen—or at the very least, people wearing saffron robes and agonizing over the answer to paradoxical riddles called koans—as in the Rinzai tradition in Zen—hitting each other with poles, practicing the martial arts, or trying to hear the sound of one hand clapping.” Shaking his head in amusement, Reverend Hirota said, “When I encounter such persons, I usually gently refer them to the nearest Zen Center for westerners, or perhaps a local meditation group.”

  “I guess it’s natural for outsiders to assume that all Buddhist schools and traditions will be the same, even though we wouldn’t expect all Jewish or Christian groups to be the same,” Abraham said. “I’m still trying to grasp the differences Jobran keeps explaining to me between the Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, and Protestant traditions of Christianity. Personally, I’m not sure I could adequately explain the difference between an Episcopalian and a Presbyterian if my life depended on it.”

  Reverend Hirota nodded and said, “It is much easier when you come from a particular culture, of course. My parents were Issei, or first-generation immigrants, who came to this country shortly after they were married, but whose language and culture remained Japanese. I, on the other hand, am a Nisei, or second-generation Japanese, who grew up bilingual, knowing both Japanese and American culture. My own children, on the other hand, are of the Sensei generation, who—while they understand some Japanese, almost refuse to ever speak it. Culturally, they are almost completely assimilated Americans; their favorite music, for example, is that kind that is so popular with the African-American youth…”

  “Rap and Hip-Hop,” Jobran interrupted, and Reverend Hirota nodded his agreement.

  “However, our religion is not intended to be complicated,” Reverend Hirota added. “Quite the contrary, our tradition of Buddhism is intended to be for householders, for working people; for people with families, jobs, and ‘worldly’ concerns. Our founder, Shinran Shonin, was himself married and a father, who thought of himself as a ‘lay’ person, rather than a monk. That is why we are part of the Mahayana or ‘Greater Vehicle’ tradition of Buddhism, since we emphasize that Enlightenment is achievable by all, and not merely by a small group of monks who are able to devote themselves full-time to spiritual practice.”

  Jobran said, “Let me make sure I understand this: your tradition of Buddhism is usually known in English as ‘Pure Land’ Buddhism, correct?”

  Reverend Hirota shook his head, and said, “That identification is often made, though it is not entirely correct. There are other ‘Pure Land’ teachings and schools in Japan, China, Korea, and Vietnam, for instance, that differ from ours, but which are also part of the Amida tradition.”

  “That’s something I have trouble grasping,” Jobran said. “This tradition about ‘Amida Buddha,’ and how it relates to other concepts of Buddha.”

  “I’m sure it is quite confusing to westerners,” Reverend Hirota agreed. “First of all, you should understand that there was a historical individual named Siddhartha Gautama who was a prince who lived in India about 2,500 years ago. This historical individual is often called Shakyamuni, because he was from the Shakya clan in India. After years of self-discipline and meditation, he achieved a condition known as Enlightenment, and became known as the Tathagata— meaning ‘one who has come from the world of suchness—or more commonly, the Buddha, which simply means ‘Awakened One.’”

  “Comparative religions scholar Huston Smith referred to the Buddha as, ‘The Man Who Woke Up,’” Jobran added. “So ‘Amida Buddha’ is not referring to this historical individual, right?”

  “That is correct,” Reverend Hirota replied. “One of the major sacred writings of our tradition—that we often simply call the ‘Larger Sutra,’ the word ‘sutra’ simply meaning scripture or teaching—tells about an individual named Dharmakara who was a bodhisattva, or a person on the path to Buddhahood or enlightenment. Dharmakara took 48 vows, basically to not achieve enlightenment for himself unless he would also relieve the sufferings of all other beings. Upon attaining enlightenment, Dharmakara became known as Amida Buddha, whose abode is the Pure Land.” He paused, then added, “This is being said in mytho-poetic form, you understand.”

  “What does ‘Amida’ mean?” Jobran asked.

  “The word ‘amida’ or ‘amita’ is the Japanese transliteration and contraction of two Sanskrit words, ‘Amithaba’ or Infinite Light, and ‘Amitayus’ or Infinite Life. The distinguishing characteristic of Amida Buddha is that Amida symbolizes infinite compassion, and wisdom. Amida Buddha is also the central object of worship in our branch of Buddhism, whether this is taking place in a Temple, or in a private home.”

  “While we were trying to find your office, we accidentally saw an elaborate altar in what I suppose is your main area for holding services,” Abraham said. “I noticed that it had a small golden statue—presumably of Buddha—in its center.

  I assume that that is where you normally practice your ‘worship’?” He had a somewhat disdainful expression on his face, resulting from the traditional Jewish prohibition against “worshipping idols.”

  Reverend Hirota had a slightly pained expression on his face, and said carefully, “There is so much confusion in this area. First, please let me explain that by ‘worship’ we are referring to an activity that might better be called veneration in English; that is, showing due respect to someone, or to some symbol. In Japan and China, we have a long tradition of showing humble respect to great persons who have passed away; Westerners who look at our practices superficially may label this as ‘ancestor worship,’ and completely misunderstand. The statue of Buddha that is placed on our altar is only a symbol; in other Temples, they may have a painted picture, or a small scroll that serves the same purpose. An outsider observing our devotional practices may think that we are ‘worshipping Buddha, instead of God,’ but this is entirely wrong—if I place my hands together and bow before our altar, I am simply paying respectful tribute to the spirit of compassion that is symbolized by Amida Buddha, which is the commitment to save all sentient beings.”

  “That makes more sense now,” Abraham said, nodding his head. “So you’re not worshipping ‘other gods,’ so to speak.”

  “No,” Reverend Hirota said, shaking his head firmly. “For us, Buddha is not a god, but an awakened man. We do not ‘pray’ to him, as a Christian would pray to Christ; in fact, in Buddhism, there is really no prayer at all— only contemplation.”

  “How did your particular sect or tradition get started?” Jobran asked.

  “Our particular tradition was founded by a 12th-13th century Japanese priest named Shinran Shonin, who was himself a disciple of a monk of the Tendai school named Honen. Our sect is known as Jodo Shinshu, which means ‘Pure Land, True sect.’ In English, it is often simply called Shin Buddhism. Honen’s own school is called Jodo Shu or ‘Pure Land sect.’ Although Shinran himself said that ‘I have no disciples,’ it was
his students who decided to separate themselves from Honen’s school. We are spiritually aligned with—though autonomous from— our mother temple, the Honpa Hongwanji school in Kyoto, Japan. In this country, we are now incorporated under the name, ‘Buddhist Churches of America.’”

  “Why do you call yourselves ‘churches’?” wondered Abraham, to which Jobran added, “I’ve wondered that, too, since ‘church’ is really a Christian term. Don’t you call your places of meeting and worship ‘Temples’ or ‘shrines’ in Japan?”

  “We also call our meeting places ‘temples’ in this country as well, but we began to use the term ‘church’ in officially in 1944,” Reverend Hirota said. He then put his hands before his lips, almost in a position of prayer, and said quietly, “Sadly, in this country there have historically been occasions of great persecution of Japanese citizens. In the Second World War, for example, 110,000 persons of Japanese ancestry were locked up in internment camps from 1942 for the duration of the war—despite the fact that they had not done anything wrong, much less been convicted of any ‘crime’ such as sedition or treason.”

  “That was blatant racism,” Abraham said, gravely. “Particularly since they did-n’t give similar treatment to Americans of German and Italian ancestry—even though they were the only ones organizing themselves into ‘German-American Bunds,’ openly expressing support for Hitler, and such.”

  Jobran nodded and said, “I was literally flabbergasted with shock when I first learned about the internment my senior year in high school. It’s horrifying that something like that could happen in America—and fairly recently, too. It’s even more chilling when you realize that the proposal was strongly supported by both political parties, as well.” Hesitantly, he asked Reverend Hirota, “Were you…?”