Showing posts with label Gosho Zenshu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gosho Zenshu. Show all posts

Jun 11, 2013

The Object of Devotion

By Shin Yatomi SGI-USA Vice Study Department Leader

The following essay was presented at the SGI-USA Study Department conference held at the Florida Nature and Culture Center on April 21-23, 2000.

One of the most debated issues regarding any religious object is whether it is sacred or represents the sacred. Put another way, is it an actual embodiment or symbol of what is to be revered in worship? Those questions about the nature of religious objects have played no small part in the history of religion.

The Iconoclastic Controversy in which Christians debated the merits of religious icons is considered the last step toward the great schism between the Roman Catholic Church and the Greek Orthodox Church in 1054.1 The interpretation of the Eucharist—the consecrated bread and wine used in Holy Communion—has been another source of doctrinal disputes in the Christian Church since the earlier Middle Ages, especially during the Reformation period. At the thirteenth session of the Council of Trent held in 1551, the Roman Catholic Church reaffirmed its doctrine of transubstantiation, asserting the conversion of the whole substance of the bread and wine into the whole substance of the Body and Blood of Christ, only the appearances of the bread and wine remaining after the consecration.2

The Protestants opposed this view. For example, Martin Luther claimed that after the consecration, the substances both of the Body and Blood of Christ and of the bread and wine coexist in union with each other.3 Ulrich Zwingli, on the other hand, affirmed that the Lord's Supper was primarily a memorial rite, and that there was no change in the elements whatever.4

As evident in the history of Christianity, religious objects often trigger tension and anxiety for those who think that the divine is beyond material expression. At the same time, people tend to seek something tangible as an object or expression of their devotion. Some people regard a sign of the divine as the divine itself while others reduce the significance of a sacred object to a ritual symbol devoid of its own spirituality. The nature of a religious object, in this way, is often at the center of theological debate and confusion in many religions.

Is the Gohonzon a Symbol or the Embodiment?

In the case of Nichiren Daishonin's Buddhism, its object of devotion works as both symbol and embodiment. When people look at the Gohonzon5 for the first time, what do they see? What do they make of it' It is a scroll with unfamiliar inscriptions, but is it a religious icon or sacred formula? Whatever their reaction, it is difficult not to notice oriental calligraphic characters arranged in a specific pattern— though most have no idea what those characters mean or why they are arranged that way. As our first impressions of things often reveal some important insights into their nature, what most of us first notice about the appearance of the Gohonzon, that is, its written characters and their graphic arrangement, provides us with some clues to Nichiren Daishonin's intent in creating this object of devotion.

In one sense, the Gohonzon represents the Daishonin's enlightenment and, thereby, our innate Buddha nature. The Gohonzon is a symbol of all people's potential Buddhahood; it signifies something other than itself. This is why the Daishonin explains to his elderly disciple Abutsu-bo the meaning of his offerings to the Gohonzon—which is referred to as “the treasure tower”—as follows: “You may think you offered gifts to the treasure tower of the Thus Come One Many Treasures,6 but that is not so. You offered them to yourself. You, yourself, are a Thus Come One who is originally enlightened and endowed with the three bodies.7 You should chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo with this conviction” (The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, pp. 299-300). Here the Daishonin explains that when we pray to the Gohonzon, the Gohonzon is pointing our attention to our own innate Buddha nature. The Gohonzon reflects our reverence back to our supreme inner potential. In this sense, the Gohonzon functions as a pointer to our Buddhahood; it is a symbolic representation. In the above passage, therefore, the Daishonin cautions us not to mistake the sign for the signified, which would externalize and objectify the Buddhahood that actually resides within us.

From another perspective, however, the Gohonzon functions as an embodiment of the Daishonin's enlightenment. The Gohonzon is not intrinsically a self-conscious, living entity embodying the Daishonin's enlightenment, but it functions in our practice as if it were. The Daishonin explains: “I, Nichiren, have inscribed my life in sumi ink, so believe in the Gohonzon with your whole heart. The Buddha's will is the Lotus Sutra, but the soul of Nichiren is nothing other than Nam-myoho-renge-kyo” (WND, 412). When we put our faith in the Gohonzon and pray to it in the spirit of this passage, the Gohonzon transforms itself from mere paper and ink into a concrete manifestation of the Daishonin's enlightenment in the reality of our consciousness. The Gohonzon thus works as an external stimulus that calls forth our inner potential of Buddhahood. On one hand, we know that the Gohonzon is a symbolic representation of our Buddha nature. In our practice, on the other hand, we pray to it as if it were the actual embodiment of the Daishonin's enlightened life so that we may gain confidence that the selfsame nature exists within our lives as well. Viewing the Gohonzon as the embodiment of the Daishonin's enlightenment is not simplistic make-believe, although the Gohonzon physically remains as paper and ink; it is the affirmation of our faith in the Daishonin's enlightenment and in our own enlightened potential. The Gohonzon, in a sense, serves on behalf of the absent Daishonin as a concrete example of attaining enlightenment.

The Gohonzon, in this way, helps our practice as both symbol and embodiment of Buddhahood. It must be noted, however, that the Gohonzon as an embodiment of enlightenment should not be taken to mean the mysterious presence of the divine in the inanimate object. The Gohonzon becomes an embodiment of Buddhahood through our faith and practice. In other words, the importance of the Gohonzon as the embodiment of the Daishonin's enlightenment is meaningful and real only to the extent that practitioners pray to it with faith and view it as an example to follow, not as an external saving force. The meaning of the Gohonzon as intended by the Daishonin, in this sense, is created through a dynamic interaction between the object of devotion and its devotee. The significance of the Gohonzon, therefore, would be incomplete without the practitioner's faith and practice.

The Treasure Tower: the Imagery of the Gohonzon

The design of the Gohonzon dates back to the origin of Mahayana Buddhism, which took shape around the turn of the first century in India. In reaction to monastic Buddhism, which emphasized personal salvation through austerities, Mahayana Buddhists stressed the importance of altruism and the role of lay practitioners (i.e., bodhisattvas) to spread the teachings. The Mahayanists called their doctrine “Mahayana” or “the greater vehicle” to carry the masses to the shore of enlightenment while referring to monastic Buddhism as “Hinayana” or “the lesser vehicle.” The popular Mahayana movement developed around the worship of stupas—mounds or towers originally built to enshrine Shakyamuni's relics. After Shakyamuni's death, which is dated by many scholars around the fourth or fifth century before the Common Era, his lay followers started to build these stupas, especially during the reign of King Ashoka (268-232 BCE), who was the third ruler of the Maurya dynasty and the first king to unify India. Many lay followers gathered around the stupas and paid homage to the Buddha, who was now absent.

The popularity of stupa worship is evident in the central role of the jeweled tower in the Lotus Sutra, one of the early Mahayana sutras, which is thought to have been compiled around the first century.8 The Daishonin used the stupa or “treasure tower” from the Lotus Sutra as a chief graphic motif for inscribing the Gohonzon. Down the center of the Gohonzon is written “Nam-myoho-renge-kyo Nichiren,” which signifies his awakening to the universal law of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo or Buddhahood. As he explains, “The treasure tower is Nam-myoho-renge-kyo” (WND, 299), the Daishonin views the treasure tower depicted in the Lotus Sutra as symbolic of the Buddha nature inherent within the lives of all people. Thus he addresses one of his disciples as follows: “Abutsu-bo is therefore the treasure tower itself, and the treasure tower is Abutsu-bo himself” (WND, 299).

The inscriptions on both sides of “Nam-myoho-renge-kyo Nichiren” on the Gohonzon depict the assembly of various living beings who gather around the treasure tower to listen to Shakyamuni's preaching as described in the Lotus Sutra. Some of them are not even humans, such as the dragon king's daughter who demonstrates her enlightenment. The diversity of this so-called Assembly in the Air in the Lotus Sutra reflects the nature of the early stupa worship, which was not limited to the elite priestly class but was open to people from all walks of life. These inscriptions on the Gohonzon represent the ten states of existence (i.e., the Ten Worlds): intense suffering and despair (Hell); insatiable desires (Hunger); selfish foolishness (Animality); arrogance and belligerence (Anger); transient calmness (Humanity); intense yet temporary rapture (Heaven); self-improvement (Learning); self-awakening to the partial truths of nature and humanity (Realization); altruism (Bodhisattva); and the indestructible state of happiness rooted in compassion and wisdom (Buddhahood). The Gohonzon graphically shows that each of these ten states of existence—when firmly grounded in the law of Nam-myoho-renge-kyo—exhibits its most positive functions to nurture one's life and happiness. For example, although we may find ourselves in the state of Hell, through our prayer to the Gohonzon, we can transform our intense suffering and despair into a source of strength and hope to overcome our difficulties. Incidentally, some ritual aspects involving our practice to the Gohonzon may be reminiscent of the stupa worship of the early Mahayana Buddhists. For example, the sounding of the bell may derive from the offerings of music often performed in front of a stupa. Other offerings to the Gohonzon may also be traced backed to early stupa worship, such as the offerings of flowers and incense as depicted in the Lotus Sutra.

Words and Imagery: Subjective Universality

The mode of expression that the Daishonin chose for the imagery of the treasure tower is unique. He depicted the treasure tower and the surrounding assembly of various beings in written characters. While there are examples of pictorial depictions of the treasure tower or calligraphic religious objects that predate the Gohonzon,9 the Daishonin's imagery of the treasure tower depicted solely in written characters was rare if not unprecedented. His use of graphic characters follows the emphasis placed on scriptures in the Buddhist tradition .After Shakyamuni's death, stupas containing Shakyamuni's relics became objects of veneration among lay practitioners. Soon the pictorial and sculptural images of Shakyamuni and other imagined Buddhas, as well as bodhisattvas and Buddhist deities, were produced as religious icons. Furthermore, especially within the Mahayana tradition, greater emphasis was placed on scriptures, even to the point where people literally worshiped the scrolls of Buddhist texts. For example, in medieval India, the Wisdom (Skt Prajnaparamita) sutras became the objects of devotion among many Mahayana Buddhists.10 Regarding the religious importance of scriptures within the Mahayana tradition, Jacob N. Kinnard comments: “Relics and stupas are certainly worthy of veneration…but the book is more valuable and more valued, because the book is the source of the Tathagata's wisdom, and consequently the source of his attainment of enlightenment, and thus the source of the value of the relics.”11

The Daishonin also often stresses the important role of written materials, particularly the Lotus Sutra. For example, he states: “The Lotus Sutra is both the teaching of the Buddha and the embodiment of the Buddha wisdom. If one puts sincere faith in each character and brushstroke in it, then one will become a Buddha in one's present form” (WND, 969). In refuting medieval Zen Buddhism, which rejected the role of Buddhist scriptures, the Daishonin states: “If one disregards written characters, what else could one regard as the Buddha's work?” (Gosho Zenshu, p. 153). He also writes: “Characters are the forms that manifest the minds of all living beings” (GZ, 380).

The Daishonin's use of written characters as a medium for the Gohonzon reflects his strong belief in the role of written materials in communicating not only the material reality of things, but also the spiritual reality of humanity. The Daishonin's use of the treasure tower's imagery as a graphic motif for the Gohonzon and his use of written characters as a medium of expression show his profound insight into the nature of religious worship. He seems to have understood how an image and a written text speak differently to our minds. In inscribing the Gohonzon as an image expressed in characters, the Daishonin unifies the specificity of a graphic image with the universality of written characters to convey the reality of the Buddha nature that is unique to each person and simultaneously universal to all people. The subjective yet universal aspect of the Buddha nature is at the core of the Daishonin's teaching, which promotes our awareness of the supreme potential not only in our lives but in the lives of others as well.

The Gohonzon is concrete in the sense that it depicts a specific image. But it is not a pictorial image of the treasure tower, Shakyamuni or Nichiren Daishonin himself. If the Gohonzon took such a form, it would be easy to view the Gohonzon as a depiction of someone else's life or an event far removed from our lives. If the Gohonzon were rendered as the Daishonin's image, for example, we might respect it, but we would not identify with it. For we simply don't look like a thirteenth-century Japanese monk! The Daishonin instead created the Gohonzon in characters to depict the specific imagery of the treasure tower from the Lotus Sutra, which symbolizes our innate Buddhahood. Written characters are suited to express universal concepts. But they are often abstract and lack a sense of immediacy. Images, on the other hand, are better suited to elicit personal responses from their viewers because they are more immediate to our senses. The Gohonzon, in terms of its graphic motif and calligraphic medium, is a hybrid of written and visual communication. Judging from the way the Daishonin chose to inscribe the Gohonzon, he probably intended it to communicate both conceptually and sensuously to our minds the universality of the Buddha nature and its immediacy to our lives.

Jean Paul Friedrich Richter, a German literary critic, explains the subjective yet universal nature of poetry as follows: “Poetry should become like the moon, which by night follows one wanderer in the woods from peak to peak and at the same time another from wave to wave and thus attends each, while it simply describes its great arc across heaven and yet ultimately draws it around the earth and around the wanderers also.”12

Richter's analogy of the moon is fit to describe the functions of the Gohonzon. The Gohonzon illuminates the existence of Buddhahood for each practitioner. At the same time, the Gohonzon traces the orbit of enlightenment for all people to see. The Gohonzon—like the moon individually following all travelers on earth—sheds light on the innate Buddhahood in each of us.

The Daishonin's intent to make the Gohonzon's meaning universal to all people is also evident in the linguistic and cultural aspects of the Gohonzon. He used the words and personages of India, China and Japan to depict the Gohonzon.13

Two Buddhist deities are inscribed in a medieval Sanskrit orthography; Great Bodhisattva Hachiman comes from Japanese mythology, and there is the Great Teacher T'ien-t'ai, who established the Lotus Sutra's supremacy in medieval China. In medieval Japan, those three countries were viewed as the entirety of the civilized world. In other words, the Daishonin probably wished to make the Gohonzon universal in its language and content as well.

Some of the physical features of the Gohonzon suggest the Daishonin's minute considerations to make the object of devotion suited to the message that it carries to each and all practitioners: the personal yet universal reality of the Buddha nature. Of course, what is most important in our practice is the act of chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo to the Gohonzon. The seemingly minor details of the Gohonzon, however, sometimes reveal much about the Daishonin's wisdom and compassion. The goal of this article is that knowing those details may help us become more aware of the Daishonin's intent behind his inscription of the Gohonzon and thereby pray more strongly and confidently.
1. The Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church. 3rd edition. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997. “Iconoclastic Controversy,” pp. 815-16.
2. Ibid. “Eucharist,” p. 567; “Transubstantiation,” p. 1637.
3. Ibid. “Consubstantiation,” p. 408.
4. Ibid. “Eucharist,” p. 567.
5. The object of devotion in Nichiren Daishonin's Buddhism is called the Gohonzon. “Go” is an honorific prefix, and “honzon” means an object of fundamental respect.
6. Many Treasures is a Buddha who appeared, seated within the treasure tower at the Ceremony in the Air, in order to lend credence to Shakyamuni's teachings in the Lotus Sutra.
7. Three kinds of body that a Buddha possesses, namely: (1) the Dharma body, which indicates the fundamental truth or Law to which a Buddha is enlightened; (2) the reward body, which indicates the wisdom; and (3) the manifested body, or the merciful actions of a Buddha to save people and the physical form that he assumes for that purpose. The three bodies are generally considered to be three different types of Buddhas, but in the Lotus Sutra they are shown to be the three aspects of a single Buddha (“Glossary, ”WND, 1275).
8.Nakamura, Hajime. Indian Buddhism: A Survey with Bibliographical Notes. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, 1989. p. 186.
9. Stone, Jacqueline I. Original Enlightenment and the Transformation of Medieval Japanese Buddhism. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1999. pp. 272-88.
10. Kinnard, Jacob N. Imaging Wisdom: Seeing and Knowing in the Art of Indian Buddhism. Surrey: Curzon Press, 1999. pp. 114-47.
11. Ibid. p. 119.
12. Richter, Jean Paul Friedrich. “School for Aesthetics.” German Romantic Criticism. The German Library: Vol. 21. Ed. A. Leslie Willson. New York: Continuum, 1982. p. 45.
13. For the meaning of each inscription on the Gohonzon, see the “Diagram of the Gohonzon Transcribed by High Priest Nichikan” and “Further Explanation” in Living Buddhism, November 1997, pp. 16-17, pp. 19-24.

Feb 12, 2010

What Love is Not




 
"Love is not love..." As Shakespeare once wrote (Sonnet 116), what seems to be love sometimes may not be love at all. As much as the subject of love occupies many people's minds (and perhaps much of their time and money), their greatest concern seems usually confined to finding love or becoming lovable in the eyes of others, rather than the meaning of love or the capacity for loving. The underlying assumption of such an attitude may be that love is a feeling of pleasure and comfort only to be stimulated by an external object. The usual remedy for life without love, therefore, is to find that object—someone new and better. Erich Fromm, a noted psychologist and social philosopher, considers love as an "art" that "requires knowledge and effort"; he defines love as "the active concern for the life and the growth of that which we love" (The Art of Loving, pp. 1, 25). If love is one's capacity to wish and act for the happiness and freedom of another person, a fundamental solution to the suffering of love must be sought not outward, but in the development of the character and inner strength that make us capable of loving more genuinely and powerfully.

To master the art of loving is to overcome the desire for control and dependency

One of the greatest obstacles to the joy of loving is our desire for control. We sometimes mistake our wish to control others for our loving concern. We may think of ourselves as affectionate, yet our "love" may be a disguised desire to manipulate others for our personal gain. In his writings, Nichiren Daishonin often uses a mythic Buddhist creature called the "devil king of the sixth heaven" as a metaphor for the deep-seated human desire to control others. Indeed, another name for this devil king literally means the "heavenly being who makes free use of others" (Jpn takejizaiten). Through his lively descriptions of this "devil," the Daishonin seems to indicate the importance of becoming aware and vigilant of our desire to use others as a means to our selfish ends. Since dependency is essential to control, the devil king uses various schemes to make people dependent on him. One of his main tools to encourage dependency is manipulation through feigned affection. Despite the general perception of the devil king as a fierce monster, he is adept at appearing affectionate. To lure people and keep them under his control, the devil king is said to make himself look like a Buddha or parent. For example, the Daishonin states, "The devil king of the sixth heaven is endowed with the Buddha's thirty-two features and manifests the Buddha's body" (Gosho Zenshu, p. 114). The Daishonin also quotes from a Buddhist commentary, which states, "So long as a person does not try to depart from the sufferings of birth and death and aspire to the Buddha vehicle, the devil will watch over him like a parent" (The Writings of Nichiren Daishonin, p. 770). In fact, there is even a type of devil in the Buddhist tradition called "the devil of compassion" (Gosho Zenshu, p. 526). Those who are eager to control others often appear affectionate—"taking care of them" or "being nice to them"—with the aim of keeping them dependent materially or emotionally. In Ibsen's play A Doll's House, the seemingly affectionate yet controlling husband Torvald Helmer reminds his wife, Nora, of his "love" expressed in the form of financial support: "My pretty little pet is very sweet, but it runs away with an awful lot of money. It's incredible how expensive it is for a man to keep such a pet" (Act 1, trans. by James McFarlane and Jens Arup).

The truth of love is found in our sincerity to act for the happiness and freedom of others

It is easy to mistake control and dependency for love. The appearance of selfish love, however, like that of the devil king's, is only deceptive, for it is conditional to submission. As the Daishonin points out, the devil king is affectionate "so long as a person does not try to depart from" his control (WND, 770). Some people may give anything to their "loved ones" only to keep them dependent. Those obsessed with control, however, usually find it difficult to wish for the genuine happiness and independence of others. Instead, they would hope to see others deprived in one way or another in order to maintain their sense of superiority. The test of our love, in this sense, lies in our sincerity to encourage and work for the self-reliance and freedom of our loved ones. As the Daishonin states, "The nature of this devil king is to rejoice at those who create the karma of the three evil paths and to grieve at those who form the karma of the three good paths" (WND, 42). Those who thrive on domination may easily show pity for others in suffering, while inwardly delighting at the sight. For the misery of others affords those in control yet another opportunity to show their superiority and thereby remind those suffering of their need for dependency. 


At the core of a relationship built on domination and submission lies a profound sense of insecurity and powerlessness on both sides. Those who like to dominate cannot verify the meaning of their existence on their own, so they must derive a sense of power from the subjugation of others. Similarly, those who easily submit to an external authority cannot see their self-worth. So they feel impelled to become part of someone "better" and "stronger" by abandoning their identity and integrity. To such submissive people, control means protection against their own insecurity. Those submissive to an external authority do not see their lives as worthwhile to live for, but they cannot endure the emptiness of having nobody to live for either. So they must seek an external object with which to merge their identity so that they may not face the weakness and emptiness of their own lives. This symbiotic relationship between the dominant and the submissive is disturbed when the submissive party uncovers his or her self-worth and develops the inner strength to become independent. Then the dominant party's insecurity will surface as frustration and anger. 

The Daishonin's following descriptions of the devil king illustrate his intense fear and anxiety in this regard: "When we thus draw near to achieving Buddhahood…the devil king of the sixth heaven, lord of the threefold world, reasons: 'If these persons should become Buddhas, I will suffer loss on two counts. First of all, if they free themselves from the threefold world, they will escape my control. Second, if they become Buddhas, their parents and siblings will also depart from the saha world. How can I stop this from happening?'" (WND, 1094). "When an ordinary person of the latter age is ready to attain Buddhahood…this devil is greatly surprised. He says to himself, 'This is most vexing. If I allow this person to remain in my domain, he not only will free himself from the sufferings of birth and death, but will lead others to enlightenment as well. Moreover, he will take over my realm and change it into a pure land. What shall I do?'" (WND, 894).

To love truly, we must free ourselves from the fundamental darkness within


The devil king does not want anyone to attain enlightenment and become free since that would be a painful reminder of his own powerlessness and dependency. The paradox of this devil king, who "dwells at the summit of the world of desire and rules over the threefold world" (WND, 508), is that he is controlled by his own desire to control. The devil king is a ruler who cannot rule himself. The more control he has, the more of it he needs. He is perpetually driven by his inner weakness and insecurity, never feeling satisfied. He is a prisoner of the prison he himself creates. Although he is said to make "free use of others," he is never free in the innermost reality of his life. The devil king, therefore, is incapable of loving. The devil king is said to dwell in the sixth and highest heaven of the world of desire, but his "love," if it could be so called at all, results only in profound unfulfillment and suffering beneath its heavenly pleasure. 


As William Blake knew, such selfish "Love seeketh only Self to please, / To bind another to Its delight: / Joys in another's loss of ease, / And builds a Hell in Heavens despite" ("The Clod & the Pebble," ed. David V. Erdman). To love truly, we must be free. To be free, then, we must discover our innate self-worth. In the same sonnet quoted earlier, Shakespeare also wrote, "Let me not to the marriage of true minds / Admit impediments." One of the greatest impediments to our ability to love is a delusion about the truth of our inner life—Buddhahood. Such delusion leads to powerlessness and dependency. The mythic devil king is symbolic of this delusion as the Daishonin says, "The fundamental darkness manifests itself as the devil king of the sixth heaven" (WND, 1113). To shed light on this inner "fundamental darkness" through strengthening our confidence in Buddhahood within our lives, then, is an essential practice for the art of loving.


(Originally published in the World Tribune, Dec. 7, 2001)