Or the Confession of a UU Buddhist
James Ishmael Ford

When I was a teenager, back in the misty 1960s, I quickly decided that the hippie movement and the psychedelic era were not going to save the world. Casting about for something with real substance I stumbled upon Zen. In fact in the San Francisco bay area of that decade, this wasn’t all that difficult. Now, at first for me it was just Zen, which means literally “to meditate.” I wanted and I found a serious spiritual discipline. And, I wanted and found a spiritual discipline that did not insult my already seriously critical intelligence.

Zen certainly filled the bill. While it has a major poetic side, and is filled with wonderfully disconcerting stories about the sound of single hands, and eating grapes while tigers plan on gobbling one up, and stepping away from the top of hundred foot poles; it also is grounded in an assertion that human beings can “figure it out,” and the means to doing that figuring out is just sitting down, shutting up, and noticing what’s going on around oneself and within oneself.

I really liked that. And, I threw myself into the discipline with all the energy of a late adolescent who had serious spiritual questions. Somewhere along the line I discovered that by becoming a Zen student, I had also come into an ancient religious tradition called Buddhism.

Here is James’s thumbnail on Buddhism: It was founded somewhere between the fifth and sixth centuries before the birth of Christ, in what is now northern India, and more or less in sight of the Himalayas, by a real historical person named Gautama Siddhartha. The stories about his life claim he was a prince born to luxury. After encountering the perennial questions of sickness, old age and death; and witnessing someone who had renounced the things of the world in favor of seeking true depth; he surrendered his throne and family and entered the ascetic way of ancient Hinduism.

After years of privation and discipline Siddhartha decided the ascetic way would not work. Instead he determined to follow a path of simple presence, and out of that came to his great realization on the morning of the full moon in what we call December. He looked up at the morning star, understood the nature of all things, and declared, “At this moment I see how I and all things are enlightened together.”

Shortly after that experience while looking for former companions in order to tell them his good news, he encountered a traveler who wondered at his glowing face. The traveler asked if he were a god? Siddhartha replied, no. Perhaps an angel? Again, no. Finally the traveler asked, then what are you? To which Siddhartha replied, “I am awake.” Buddha means awake.

When he found his old companions the Buddha preached what has come to be called the first turning of the wheel. Here he outlined the core teachings that he would expand upon and examine in great detail through the next forty years of his life. This outline is called “The Four Noble Truths.”

The first of these truths is an observation of pervasive human distress, anxiety, anguish. The term he used was “dukkha,” which is usually translated as suffering, but in fact it is a richer and more textured human experience than can be accurately summarized by the word suffering alone. This is the dis-ease, the angst of our human condition.

The second truth was his analysis of the way things are. First, he observed how all things exist in causal relationships. That is we are caused by many, many events and in turn our actions cause many other things to come into being. So, you and I are like eddies in a great river, created out of brush and sticks and stones being caught at the side of that river. At some point conditions will change and the stones and sticks will break up, and that part of the river which we call “I” will flow back into the mainstream.

At the same time we as human beings have a peculiar type of consciousness. It is aware of being, but also it can divide the cosmos. The primary division is “me” and “not me.” From that ability we discover we are the creative animal. We can make houses and starships, medicine and nuclear bombs. This is a mixed gift. Much of it is wonderful and good. But, it has many shadows. One of which is the inclination to make that which is passing permanent. We want that which we cherish to last. We, you and I, want to last. But, as things do not last, as everything made of parts, will come apart, like those sticks and stones in that eddy, then we suffer.

The Buddha called the source of this pervasive human suffering, this dukkha, tanha, or “thirst.” It is a thirst, however, that cannot be quenched through things, all of which will pass away. But, we usually miss that point. And, our clinging to one passing thing after another magnifies our suffering. And, at the very core, is our clinging to ourselves, our wishful thinking that we, at least, are permanent.

Now, the Buddha’s third truth is we really don’t have to suffer in this manner. There is pain that is natural. The play of the universe as that rushing river is just as it is. And it involves birthing, living, and dying. But, this suffering from clinging to what is passing as if it were permanent, this is optional.

Then the Buddha outlined a middle way between the extremes of indulgence and asceticism. He gave eight general rules about right view, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness and right meditation. Frankly, I can’t keep these in my head. What works for me is a three-fold division of these various right ways into meditation, morality and wisdom.

Meditation is the various ways in which we learn to shut up and notice. Morality might best be summarized through the lay precepts the Buddha gave to those who did not choose to become monastics. The five precepts are not killing, not lying, not stealing, not misusing sex and not becoming intoxicated. I see these also as the positive attributes of wisdom: cherishing life, speaking truthfully, respecting things and our bodies and remaining clear and present.

Each of these three perspectives, meditation, morality and wisdom create the others, birth the others in an organic cycle of compassion and insight. Indeed, it is worthwhile noting how the Dalai Lama, perhaps the best known of contemporary Buddhists saying that within Buddhism the “point” is to be happy. He also adds that the way is way of kindness. All pretty straight forward, and simple, and certainly from my early twenties on, these teachings have seemed to me to make a great deal of sense.

So, why am I a Unitarian Universalist? I am both a Zen priest and now an authorized spiritual director within one of the Zen lineages. Why am I also a UU? Well, there are a number of reasons for this. One is that Buddhism in the west hasn’t developed spiritual community. Instead our western Buddhist societies are more organized like schools or academies, where we train, but not where we live. This is important, and it is one reason I’ve become a UU.

But, there is more to this than my desire for a genuine community. Here we come to that phrase “Buddhism Without Beliefs.” It comes from Stephen Bachelor, and is in fact, the title of one of his books. Early in this book Stephen cites an ancient Buddhist scripture, the Kalama Sutta, in which we hear the Buddha himself declare:

Do not be satisfied with hearsay or with tradition or with legendary lore or with what has come down in scriptures or with conjecture or with logical inference or with weighing evidence or with liking for a view after pondering over it or with someone else’s ability or with the thought ‘the monk is our teacher.’ When you know in yourselves: ‘These things are wholesome, blameless, commended by the wise, and being adopted and put into effect they lead to welfare and happiness,’ then you should practice and abide in them…

I ask you, in what other religious tradition of this world, are we going to find the founder declare to us: test and taste for ourselves? Certainly, this is the Buddhism that attracts me. But, it is therefore a Buddhism that must also question Buddhism. What works? What does not work? And, what is the wholesome and blameless way for me and those whom I love?

We need to think about this. As Buddhism has translated to the West, it has taken on several forms. One is simple transplanting. Here monks, and to a much lesser degree, nuns, live by Southeast Asian or Chinese or Korean or Tibetan monastic cultural standards. Here Tibetan ordained western monks eat meat prepared in the Tibetan style, Korean ordained western monks eat kim chee, and Chinese ordained western monks eat with chopsticks. The Buddha, I might add, did none of these things.

And, then there are those who are equally serious but who follow the path through questioning. Now, I’ve sat in serious meditation for many, many years. I’ve passed hundreds of koans. I am authorized to teach in an ancient lineage. But, I am a westerner, born a westerner, and I will die a westerner. I truly with all my heart believe the core teachings of the Buddha, but I am also a rationalist and a humanist, and no matter how else I might wish it, my dreams are populated by Jesus and Mary and Moses.

It is from this perspective I’ve found myself a western Buddhist. And, it is in that option as a western Buddhist I find much of my way complemented within Unitarian Universalism. Certainly, it is within this difficulty of East encountering West within my body that I found Unitarian Universalists saying “You know, James, you sound like one of us.” And, it is true. This questioning spirit, this critical spirit, is one we share as Buddhists or as any other flavor of Unitarian Universalist. This is true for those of us who are Christian, or Jewish, or earth-centered, or whatever. We all have embraced a critical way in religion.

And, as such, I find myself questioning certain aspects of Buddhism, this ancient way, which I love and for which I am so grateful. One doctrine I question is rebirth. Now the Buddha said that all things exist in inter-causal relationship, and nothing is permanent. Therefore, there are no souls living in our bodies as if they were riding a bus. But, the Buddha also describes rebirth, the consequences of my actions resulting in the birth of someone who inherits those consequences. I’m not opposed to this on principle, but I don’t see the mechanism. Rather, it seems to me the consequences of my actions spread out over the world.

How we understand karma is another critical point, closely related to rebirth. I see karma as the term describing the mechanism of inter-relationship, of mutual co-creation. Everything we do has a consequence, or many. This is the way the universe works. Here again, however, the Buddha has additional meanings. Within Buddhism karma is traditionally understood to specifically be the mechanism for creating a birth, and intention is the core element of that mechanism. Bottom line: I don’t see it. I don’t believe my intentions will result in a specific rebirth.

Buddhism without beliefs. In his important book, Stephen outlines some of what comes out of an engaged intellectually honest and fierce western Buddhism. And, frankly, it looks a lot like Unitarian Universalism with meditation to me. Here he speaks of a culture of awakening:

A culture of awakening is forged from the tension between an indebtedness to the past and a responsibility to the future.... A contemporary example is whether the metaphysical doctrines of karma and rebirth are integral to the tradition or not. Whatever decision we reach on such issues is a risk. We are obliged to assume responsibility for choices whose potentially considerable consequences for others we cannot possibly foresee.

And there is more to this. Batchelor observes how “A culture of awakening cannot exist independently of the specific social, religious, artistic, and ethnic cultures in which it is embedded. It emerges out of creative interactions with these cultures without either rejecting or being absorbed by them. It will inevitably assume certain features of contemporary culture, perhaps inspiring and revitalizing some dimensions of it, while also maintaining a critical perspective.”

And this is my western Buddhism, my Unitarian Universalist Buddhism. It is a Buddhism that does not need beliefs, but rather demands direct observation and action. To meditate, to look closely at my heart and the environment within which I move and breath and have my being is critical. As a westerner, as a Unitarian Universalist, I find a natural optimism, but even that must be examined. This is the way.

This way reminds me of that saying of Jesus, where we find the birds of the air have their nests and the animals of the fields their burrows, but the child of humanity has no place to rest her head. We are embarked upon a way of radical freedom. But, the easy comforts, the questions with pat answers, they’re all gone.

Instead, in my Unitarian Universalist Buddhism, like others among us in their Unitarian Universalist Christianity, or their Unitarian Universalist Judaism, or their Unitarian Universalist Paganism, or their Unitarian Universalist Humanism, is one of constant examination and questioning and never, never turning away from what is.

And so, here we are. A strange, and motley crew, sailing down that river of being. Where have we come from? Who knows? Where we’re going, who knows? But, the sailing itself becomes the truth. As we throw ourselves fully into this being and doing, something beautiful and precious is born.

We find a not knowing that is rare and sweet and fragrant. Here my Buddhism and someone else’s Christianity and another’s Humanism and another’s paganism and another’s Judaism, begin to dissolve. Here what is, is revealed. And, here without beliefs, we find freedom, and joy and beauty.

It turns out, this presence each of us to the other, and all of us to ourselves, is enough. The Buddha was right. And so was Henry David Thoreau. We are what we are. We find it in our attention and our actions. And, it is good, and it is beautiful, and without a doubt, it is enough.

The Reverend James Ishmael Ford is minister of the Valley Unitarian Universalist Church, in Chandler Arizona.