Beyond Heaven and Earth

by Steven H. Propp

  Reverend Hirota nodded his head slowly, and said, “I was not yet two years of age when we were interned, so my memories of that time are thankfully few.” In a stronger, more optimistic voice, he added, “Fortunately, the fear and prejudice of those days is behind us, now.” Then, with an almost imperceptible smile, he added, “Except for a short period, each time that Hollywood decides to bring out another movie about Pearl Harbor…,” and they all laughed.

  Reverend Hirota continued, “Anyway, I didn’t answer your question about why we call our congregations ‘churches.’ The Buddhist Churches of America are attempting to accommodate a historically Japanese religion to an American environment. We have found that culturally, it is easier to achieve acceptance in this country as a religious organization if one’s doctrines and practices are presented as being part of the activities of a ‘church.’ It is easier for the American culture to equate the relative positions of a bishop or minister of our religion, with the bishops and ministers of other religious traditions. Thus, our ministers have the rights to perform marriages, we can serve as chaplains in the military, and in prisons, and so on.”

  Abraham said, “That’s almost ironic, because things in this country have become so increasingly secularized, that the nonaffiliation of Buddhism with ‘churchly’ activities would probably be viewed as a ‘positive’ factor by many young people today.”

  Reverend Hirota looked downcast, and said, “It is unfortunately true that many of our young people—the sensei, and later generations—have little patience for the older traditions. Cultural assimilation and intermarriage have also taken their toll. Many of our youth reject the old ways as being of no use to them, and unfortunately follow the same paths that other American youth follow: rock music, drugs, illicit sexual relations, street gangs, and all the rest.” He shook his head sadly, but added in a voice of hope, “Still, our betsuin maintains a strong program of religious education for young people. For those that follow our ways and keep in touch with the older traditions, we feel that it is a very great benefit to them, both culturally and spiritually.”

  “We have the same problems with assimilation and intermarriage in the Jewish community,” said Abraham, with a rueful smile, and Reverend Hirota nodded back at him. “So what are the basic teachings of Shin Buddhism?” Abraham asked.

  Reverend Hirota looked pleased at the question, and said, “Our tradition is based upon the normative writings of Shinran Shonin. As with other branches of Buddhism, our goal is to seek Enlightenment, or Buddhahood, which is the ultimate experience of truth and self-realization. To achieve this, we must achieve shinjin, a state of ‘true mind’ or ‘true entrusting.’”

  “Since you don’t have a monastic order—you said earlier that Shinran considered himself a ‘lay’ person—or any particularly intensive meditation practices that I can see, how do you achieve shinjin?” asked Jobran.

  “Unlike many other branches of Buddhism, in Jodo Shinshu it is not one’s own effort that assures our enlightenment, but rather the compassion and mercy symbolized in Amida Buddha—who after his own enlightenment is said to have returned to the world, and vowed to save all suffering beings, and who is eternally working to that end. On our own, we are foolish and ignorant, and cannot attain Enlightenment by our own efforts; it is the boundless compassion of Amida Buddha that is required to awaken shinjin in us. It is through ‘Other Power’ or merit transference, achieved by single-minded faith in Amida, that we achieve our goal, rather than our own wisdom or good deeds.”

  Jobran looked deeply confused, and said, “I think I’m lost again. This sounds almost like the Christian doctrine of ‘faith.’”

  Reverend Hirota nodded sympathetically, and said, “I think that sometimes we in the Shin tradition have not been very effective in communicating our ideas to an American audience; our earlier lack of familiarity with English idioms certainly did not help, either.” He laughed gently, and said, “In earlier books, shinjin was often translated into English as ‘faith’; I can certainly see how an American, raised in a Christian background, could get the wrong impression from Jodo Shinshu—after all, it appears superficially as if Buddhists are ‘worshipping’ Amida Buddha, who brings ‘salvation’ to those who have ‘faith’ in him, whom he bring to live with him forever in the ‘Pure Land’ after death. I think it was this kind of misunderstanding that led the American Zen teacher Alan Watts to once disparagingly refer to Pure Land Buddhism as ‘Japanese Methodism’—which was not a compliment,” and they all laughed.

  “So when you talk about the ‘Other Power’ of Amida Buddha, it’s not like when Catholics talk about indulgences, and how the ‘treasury of merits of the communion of saints’ can be transferred to us and used for the ‘remission of the temporal punishment for sins,’ right?” Jobran asked.

  “That is what Catholics believe?” Reverend Hirota asked, and Jobran nodded his head. “No, that is not at all what we believe. Amida is not a ‘person’ or a ‘god’ to us, but the embodiment of the spirit of boundless compassion, that we seek to achieve in our own lives.”

  “How is this state of compassion to be realized, if you don’t have intensive meditation practices?” Abraham asked.

  Reverend Hirota smiled, and said, “The foundation of our practice is the repetition, with understanding, of the nembutsu, or holy name. The nembutsu is the single-hearted uttering in natural gratitude of the phrase, ‘Namu Amida Butsu,’ which means, ‘the name of Amida Buddha.’ All the virtues of the Buddha are embodied within his perfected name; the nembutsu is the ‘Name that calls’ us to awaken to our true potential. Utterance of the Name is the true way of expressing our gratitude for shinjin, and the gift of enlightenment and rebirth into the Pure Land of enlightenment.” He paused a moment, then added, “It is said that those who keep the nembutsu in mind faithfully will be reborn into the Pure Land immediately after death, as death opens the door to enlightenment.”

  Jobran looked very interested, and interjected, “As I said in my letter, our specific interest is in Buddhism’s teachings about life after death.” Jobran gestured toward Abraham, and said. “Abraham and I recently talked with some practitioners of the Tibetan tradition, where they have a definite belief in rebirth, or reincarnation. On the other hand, Tibet is a later tradition of Buddhism; the earliest traditions of Buddhism seem to have taught the doctrine of Anatman, or ‘no soul’—in other words, that there is no unchanging ego or self that continues beyond the grave. But do I understand you to be saying that Shin Buddhism does teach belief in life after death?”

  Reverend Hirota frowned, carefully considering his words before he answered, “The other one of our major scriptures—known as the Smaller Sutra—does contain highly imaginative images of the Pure Land: it was a land of beauty, filled with radiant light, beautiful trees, singing birds, uplifting music, fragrant flowers, and pleasant dwelling-places, with steps made of gold and encrusted with jewels. Art and literature from earlier periods contained similar portrayals. In the 7th century in China, Tao-ch’o and his disciple Shan-tao gave us vivid descriptions of heaven and hell. There is also tradition deriving from a monk named Genshin of the Tendai tradition in the 10th century that teaches that upon death, one’s faith in Amida Buddha gains one entry into the Pure Land.” Looking sympathetically at Jobran, he added quietly, “The Pure Land was also a place where one could be reunited with one’s friends and family.”

  “This ‘Pure Land’ sounds very much like the Christian concept of Heaven,” Jobran observed. He studied the expression on Reverend Hirota’s face for a moment, then asked pointedly, “But you don’t personally believe this tradition?”

  “I did not say that,” clarified Reverend Hirota, quietly. “Certainly, when a loved one dies, it is common to say that the person is now ’embraced by the boundless compassion,’ and is ‘returning to the Pure Land.’” Looking directly into Jobran’s eyes, he continued, “However, in Shinran’
s teachings, the Pure Land is perhaps really best understood as a metaphor for Enlightenment itself; it does not exist as a ‘place,’ as Hawaii exists as a place.”

  “Is reincarnation possible? Such as the Tibetans believe?” Abraham asked suddenly.

  Reverend Hirota looked doubtful, yet said, “Shinran taught that those who have achieved enlightenment and oneness with Amida Buddha in the Pure Land may come back to this world of samsara—the cycle of birth and death—again and again, until the salvation of all beings has been achieved.”

  Jobran had a puzzled look on his face, and said, “I have the distinct impression that you don’t believe in reincarnation; in fact, I suspect that you don’t really have a positive, affirmative belief in life after death at all. Am I wrong?”

  “No, you are not wrong,” said Reverend Hirota, shaking his head gently. He got up and went to the window, opening the shades fully to let the morning light in. “As the minister of a moderately large congregation, I am all too often placed in the position of having to comment when some tragic event—such as yours, Mr. Winter—befalls a member of our congregation.” He stared out the window, appearing to be struggling within himself to find an answer that he can communicate to his two visitors. “When such a tragedy strikes, I do not reassure the bereaved, or my congregation, on the basis that, ‘The deceased person is now in the Pure Land, enjoying union with Amida Buddha, and you will be reunited again, someday.’” He turned suddenly away from the window and faced his two visitors squarely, and said, “While Christians may make such assurances, the primary focus of Jodo Shinshu is on the here and now, rather than upon a future condition; our focus is upon life, not death. Our motivation should be the quality of life that one can achieve in the present world, not a ‘next world,’ because that is our only real treasure.”

  “That’s very much like Judaism,” Abraham said, nodding his head vigorously.

  Reverend Hirota nodded back to Abraham in acknowledgment, and continued, “Shakyamuni Buddha specifically denied that teachings about an afterlife were profitable. To my mind, questions such as, ‘What happens to us after death?’ are pointless—this is one of the areas that we can know nothing about. What we can know is that enlightenment is possible—perhaps even in this very lifetime— and that should be the focus of all our efforts. Furthermore, even in the earlier traditional teachings, the achievement of our Buddhahood was not possible until our complete enlightenment in the Pure Land at the point of death, so we cannot expect to know it in our present lifetimes, anyway.” Gravely, he concluded, “We can never know what goes on beyond this life; we can only entrust ourselves to the boundless compassion of Amida.”

  Abraham nodded again, but then he looked at Jobran, who was frowning, and apparently deep in thought. “I don’t think you’ve convinced my friend,” Abraham said, with a chuckle.

  Jobran took a deep breath and raised his head slowly, then said, “Although Abraham and I have discussed this point many times, I still have difficulty in considering a belief system as a ‘religion’ if it doesn’t contain some sort of teachings about God, and a belief in some kind of life after death. But that may just be a ‘personal problem’—Jainism teaches reincarnation, but doesn’t teach about God, whereas most traditional Chinese religions don’t clearly teach either.” A notion suddenly occurred to him, and he asked, “What—if anything—does Shin Buddhism teach about God, by the way?”

  Reverend Hirota replied calmly, “We really do not teach anything about God, if by ‘God’ you mean a personal being that created the universe, and gives laws and commandments to men. Buddhism is non-theistic, rather than a-theistic, as it is sometimes portrayed. For us, the ultimate reality is impersonal—which is not meant to downplay or denigrate the concept, but only means that its nature is so great that it is beyond our finite powers of description; that is why it is sometimes called the ‘Namelessness.’”

  “Makes sense to me,” said Abraham, but Jobran continued to look doubtful.

  “I’m not shocked that you don’t teach a belief in God, or endorse a concept of life after death; after all, neither do Taoism, or Zen,” Jobran said to Reverend Hirota. “But it seems to me that Jodo Shinshu is even different from most other Buddhist sects and schools, in de-emphasizing the necessity of one’s own effort in order to achieve enlightenment—which is, as I understand it, the reason why other schools insist upon having such things as monastic orders, so that one can single-mindedly pursue Enlightenment without distraction.”

  “The large majority of people cannot simply pick up and join a monastery,” Reverend Hirota replied calmly. “If monastic discipline were necessary to achieve enlightenment, only a very small number of people would be able to achieve it, and the historical Buddhist vow to ‘save all beings, no matter how numerous’ would be of naught.” Then, in a more expansive voice, he added, “I can certainly understand how persons who are focused on the historical teaching of Shakyamuni Buddha would feel as you do; after all, Shakyamuni on his deathbed told his disciples, ‘Make of yourself a light. Rely upon yourself: do not depend upon anyone else.’” Jobran nodded his agreement.

  Reverend Hirota continued, saying, “We are different from other schools of Buddhism because our teachings are not exclusively focused upon the historical Shakyamuni Buddha; rather, we focus upon the content of his enlightenment, and a particular method discovered by Honen and Shinran for achieving it.” He looked at Jobran, who seemed more satisfied with this answer, and then he added, “Certainly, however, another reason why Jodo Shinshu is different from other forms of Buddhism such as Theravada is because our teachings are intended for ordinary people in the world, rather than monks living in an isolated environment.”

  “Isn’t Jodo Shinshu somewhat unique in Japanese religions in not teaching about life after death?” Jobran asked. “Take Shinto, for example; doesn’t it teach a conception of personal life after death?”

  “Ahh, but that is a completely different tradition from the Buddhist one, even though they are both found in Japan,” said Reverend Hirota. “The traditions of Shinto, ‘the Way of the Kami” or ‘Gods,’ essentially constitute a national religion, deeply tied to the traditions and culture of the Japanese people.”

  “I don’t know much about Shinto,” Abraham asked, “But wasn’t the Japanese Emperor thought to be one of these kami?” He paused a moment, then added, “At least, until after losing the Second World War—when the Emperor was forced to make a speech in which he denied that he was a kami.”

  “You must understand these events in their historical context,” Reverend Hirota said, his voice a bit sharper than usual. “For a Japanese person to say that an Emperor is a kami is not the same as it would be for, say, your prophet Moses to call himself ‘God.’ In Japanese tradition, the kamis do not represent an entirely different order of being, but are more like human ancestors who have achieved a higher state of existence. There is actually a kind of continuum between humans and kamis—which is why the dead were sometimes thought to be able to come back as kamis, and could visit the earth. For this reason, shrines are built to honor them, tombs for the dead are built, and festivals are conducted in their name. In its ancient traditions, Shinto also taught about dead ghosts, evil spirits, and the heavenly dwelling place of the greatest Kamis. But modern Shinto—of which there are a number of varieties—does not emphasize such concepts, or an afterlife in general. And so-called ‘State Shinto’—which only began in the late 19th century, and promoted a narrow-minded nationalism—is essentially dead.”

  “What about other Japanese sects, such as Shingon, Tendai, or Nichiren?” Jobran asked.

  “Shingon—Japanese for ‘true word,’ or mantra—is an esoteric or ‘secret teaching’ branch of Buddhism that is most akin to Tantric Buddhism, and was brought to Japan from China. They worship a variety of Buddhas and deities—some of them wrathful—and teach that we can become a perfect Buddha in our present li
fe through their esoteric ritual experiences and practices, rather than through verbal teachings. They do generally believe that they go to the Pure Land after death. Tendai—named after a sacred mountain in China—is another esoteric branch of Tantric Buddhism brought from China, and influenced forerunners of Jodo Shinshu, as well as other sects. Their doctrine is based on the Lotus Sutra, but is very eclectic, and has drawn from a variety of sources in their history. Their sect is more focused upon devotional rituals, rather than achieving ‘attainments,’ such as Shingon does. Despite their attraction to magical rituals, however, they have no clear teachings about life after death that I am aware of. Both schools have had a great influence on Japanese art, such as in the creation of Mandalas, which are circular symbolic representations of some aspect of the universe,” Reverend Hirota replied. “Nor does Nichiren Shoshu, which was founded by a 13th century Japanese monk Nichiren, and emphasizes chanting a phrase from the Lotus Sutra, Namu myoho rengekyo, which means, ‘Adoration to the true teaching of the Lotus Sutra.’” He looked somewhat distastefully, then added, “People sometimes confuse their sect with Jodo Shinshu; but they unfortunately elevate the figure of Nichiren beyond an appropriate level.”

  Consulting his notes, Jobran asked, “What about Tenrikyo? And PL or ‘Perfect Liberty’ Kyodan? And the Seicho-No-Ie ‘Truth of Life’ Movement?”

  Reverend Hirota sighed, and said, “There have been so many new religions in Japan in recent years—particularly since the end of the World War—that I’m afraid that I don’t have the time or the inclination to keep up with them all. But I believe that Tenrikyo—the first of the ‘new religions’—has some kind of belief in reincarnation. They teach that we should strive to return to our original state with God as our ‘parent.’ The ‘Perfect Liberty’ Religion/Church or PL Kyodan has the motto, ‘Life is Art,’ and they suggest that you can attain ‘Perfect Liberty’ through certain prayers. I don’t believe that they teach anything about an afterlife, however. Seicho-No-Ie or ‘Truth of Life’ is a nondenominational sect that teaches that we are all children of God, all religions come from God, and we should all strive to achieve God-consciousness, which is a form of ‘eternal life.’” Reverend Hirota smiled and said, “I believe you Americans have a term for this kind of doctrine: ‘New Thought’? Does that sound right?”