1 post tagged “amida”
Pure Land Buddhism is an interesting religion. Its legendary founder, if founder is the right term, was a primordial being called Amida who, after millennia of austerity and meditation, achieved Buddhahood and forced the cosmos to grant him two wishes. His first wish was to be granted his own transcendental ‘land’. His second wish was that all people who say ‘Namu Amida Butsu’ ten times would, after their current life, be reborn in his land. There they would live in paradisical surroundings eating fabulous vegetarian cuisine and receiving tuition in Buddhism until they achieve Buddhahood – liberation - though I suppose they might just prefer to stay in the Pure Land for all eternity. I know I would. But then again, perhaps what makes the Pure Land so paradisical is one’s knowledge that nirvana, the boundless rapture of liberation, is its inevitable sequel. The Pure Land is blissful because nothing is so blissful as having something blissful to look forward to. There are lots of Pure Land Buddhists, especially in Japan, but not every Pure Land Buddhist is happy with the idea that all you have to do to go to the Pure Land is chant Namu Amida Butsu ten times. That sounds too easy. Any slob can do it. But perhaps they are missing the point. Perhaps the biggest stumbling block to nirvana – or any form of happiness - is the prideful human tendency to disdain freebies, even priceless ones.
Pure Land Buddhism offers a doctrine of radical grace, but not everyone can handle grace, perhaps because it’s not meant to be handled; it’s meant to be left alone to do its thing. Once the practice of jumping through spiritual hoops is wiped from one’s religious syllabus, one is free to live dangerously, courageously and fully; but such freedom is not everyone’s cup of tea. God of course does not foist this freedom on us. Lots of religious people try to tell us that God is good; they should also mention that he is good-mannered.
According to some Roman Catholic thinkers, Purgatory is a far happier place than earth. Sure, you are being purged, but on the plus side, you know you are going to heaven. The Catholic Purgatory is like the Buddhist Pure Land in this sense. Protestants don’t believe in Purgatory, although some Protestants (C.S. Lewis for one) think the idea makes sense. Few of us are perfected in this life, and Lewis thought it weird to posit that we are perfected in Heaven, so (Lewis conjectures) something must happen between the two worlds. Lewis compares earthly life to being in a dentist’s chair, and likens Heaven to leaving the dentist’s surgery with a gleaming smile, and he suggests that between the two there is probably some sort of metaphysical equivalent to spitting into a small sink. Lewis was not always as picturesque as his Narnia books might lead one to believe.
The brand of evangelical Christianity to which I converted as a teen had no need for Purgatory. We evangelicals, I learned, would definitely go heaven when we died - even if we were moral germs - and would be transformed in a single flash. (My views are a little different now, but that's another story for another time.) For us evangelicals, Jesus both represented and effected a total reconciliation between God and humans; which is to say that he had done all the work, and the only work that I would have to do is to believe that he had done all the work. It was Jesus, not me, who held humanity and deity together in his person. He held them together even through death. According to some theologies he went to hell holding them together! He came back to life still holding them together, and finally, after making a fish breakfast for the disciples in a charming scene you can read in the last chapter of John’s gospel, he took this permanent union of divinity and humanity up into heaven.I grew up with the idea that the Christian life was the process of moving all our stuff, bit by bit, into the new habitation of this union, and eventually settling there - a relocation to be completed (irrespective of whether we are ready or not) when our bodies evict us. No matter how much holiness we evangelicals achieved in this life, and I am not aware of having achieved any myself, our entry into heaven was supposed to be on the basis of this miraculous union. To try to get into paradise on any other basis, I learned, would be like trying to sneak back into Eden through a back gate.
That was the idea, anyway. Of course there are many, many Christians who find this theology as preposterous as they would find that Amida story. Personally, when I first encountered the idea of free-grace I devoured it whole and spat nothing out. But although I did feel a weight lifted off me when I gave up my previous belief in reincarnation and stopped worrying about being reborn as something consummately edible, I’m not sure that I ever really grasped the idea that I would be going to heaven.
Belief that you are going to heaven - even belief that you will probably go to heaven, or that you can go to heaven - should turn this mortal life into a Pure Land. It should make you adventurous, wildly generous, and prone to mad laughter - for people can stand just about anything when they believe there is going to be a happy-ever-after ending.
It strikes me that heaven is an easy thing to speculate on, an easy thing to intellectually accept, and one of the hardest things to really believe in.
I guarantee you'd recognise someone who does believe, though. I'm guessing that such a person would be a little bit crazy, a little bit carefree.
A little bit dangerous to be around…