This article derives from the Buddhist Nikāya Suttas the idea that fear has an intentional object that is best analysed in anticipatory terms. Something is feared, I argue, if construed as dangerous, where to construe something as dangerous is to anticipate it will cause certain unwanted effects. To help explain what this means, I appeal to the concept of formal objects in the philosophy of emotions and to predictive processing accounts of perception. I demonstrate how this analysis of (...) class='Hi'>fear can do exegetical work in the context of the Nikāya Suttas, and respond to philosophical issues concerning the relation between the intentional and anticipatory dimensions of fear; the relevant anticipated effects of feared objects; and whether fearing subjects necessarily know they anticipate unwanted effects. I also draw an analogy to allostatic sensations to engage issues concering how the anticipatory dimension of fear relates to the motivational. (shrink)

The Buddhist Nikāya Suttas frequently mention the concept of fear (bhaya) and related synonyms. This concept does not receive much scholarly attention by subsequent Buddhist philosophers. Recent scholars identify a ‘paradox of fear’ in several traditions of classical Indian Buddhism (Brekke 1999, Finnigan 2019, Giustarini 2012). Each scholar points out, in their respective textual contexts, that fear is evaluated in two ways; one positive and the other negative. Brekke calls this the “double role” of fear (1999: (...) 443). Each also identify fear as purposely elicited to motivate acts aimed at achieving fearlessness, where freedom from fear is characteristic of nibbāna. They all find this puzzling. Finnigan asks: “Why would one purposefully incite fear if one’s goal is its elimination?” (2019: 221). Giustarini says that fear has a “contradictory nature” (2012: 513); Brekke calls it “the paradox of fear” (1999: 442). This article introduces the ‘paradox of fear’ as it appears in the Bodhicaryāvatāra of Śāntideva and the Nikāya suttas. It then critically examines Brekke and Giustarini’s proposed solutions. It argues that they get some things right in ways that are both supported by the Nikāyas and relevant to Śāntideva but that they leave some important questions unanswered. The article contends that these questions are best answered if fear is analysed as appropriate when its objects are related to karma and rebirth. (shrink)

In the Pāli Canon fear is a twofold mental factor: it can be an obstacle to the liberation’s path or a spur for awareness. This paper cIn the Pāli Canon fear is a twofold mental factor: it can be an obstacle to the liberation’s path or a spur for awareness. This paper collects some examples – the story of Anāthapiṇḍaka, the encounters between Māra and the Buddha or his disciples – of the way in which fear can (...) be turned into courage. ollects some examples – the story of Anāthapiṇḍaka, the encounters between Māra and the Buddha or his disciples – of the way in which fear can be turned into courage. (shrink)

How to find freedom from fear: Buddhist teachings that really work, from a respected contemporary teacher. Fear is something that's such a part of our lives that it doesn't seem it would be possible to live without it. This book disputes that claim in a powerful way. Gaylon Ferguson presents traditional Buddhist teachings to show that the fear that so often wreaks havoc on us is in fact quite insubtantial—and it's mostly something we create ourselves. If we (...) can learn to see that, it becomes pretty simple to un-create it, and we also discover that there's a natural fearlessness in us that goes far deeper than fear. With this natural bravery as our foundation, we can live our own lives more effectively and also be a better help and comfort to others. (shrink)

According to Buddhist soteriology, fear is a direct cause of suffering and one of the main obstacles in the path to liberation. Pāli Suttas and Abhidhamma present a number of sophisticated strategies to deal with fear and to overcome it. Nevertheless, in the Nikāyas and in the Abhidhamma there are also consistent instructions about implementing fear in meditative practices and considering it as a valuable ally in the pursuit of nibbāna By means of a lexicographical study of (...) selected passages and especially of two compounds (bhayūparata and abhayūparata), this paper demonstrates that fear may have the crucial function of stimulating the meditator: through reiterated admonishments and reflections that evoke a feeling of dread, the meditator gets weary of unwholesome patterns and is prompted to put effort in his/her own practice. Evidence proves that this set of instructions is ultimately consistent with the several teachings that emphasize the importance of counteracting fear and fostering fearlessness, which is described as a quality of liberation as well as an attitude to be cultivated. In fact, a close analysis of the dynamics involved in bhaya (fear) and abhaya (fearlessness) as graphically depicted in the Nikāyas and in the Abhidhamma texts, reveals that stirring fear and letting go of fear are two essential steps of the same process. (shrink)

Buddhist philosophy asserts that human suffering is caused by ignorance regarding the true nature of reality. According to this, perceptions and thoughts are largely fabrications of our own minds, based on conditioned tendencies which often involve problematic fears, aversions, compulsions, etc. In Buddhist psychology, these tendencies reside in a portion of mind known as Store consciousness. Here, I suggest a correspondence between this Buddhist Store consciousness and the neuroscientific idea of stored synaptic weights. These weights are strong synaptic connections built (...) in through experience. Buddhist philosophy claims that humans can find relief from suffering through a process in which the Store consciousness is transformed. Here, I argue that this Buddhist 'transformation at the base' corresponds to a loosening of the learned synaptic connections. I will argue that Buddhist meditation practices create conditions in the brain which are optimal for diminishing the strength of our conditioned perceptual and behavioural tendencies. (shrink)

Many of us, even on our happiest days, struggle to quiet the constant buzz of anxiety in the background of our minds. All kinds of worries--worries about losing people and things, worries about how we seem to others--keep us from peace of mind. Distracted or misled by our preoccupations, misconceptions, and, most of all, our obsession with ourselves, we don't see the world clearly--we don't see the world as it really is. In our search for happiness and the good life, (...) this is the main problem. But luckily there is a solution, and on the path to understanding it, we can make use of the rich and varied teachings that have developed over centuries of Buddhist thought. With clarity and compassion, Nicolas Bommarito explores the central elements of centuries of Buddhist philosophy and practice, explaining how they can improve your life and teach you to live without fear. Mining important texts and lessons for practical guidance, he provides a friendly guide to the very practical goals that underpin Buddhist philosophy. After laying out the basic ideas, Bommarito walks readers through a wide range of techniques and practices we can adopt to mend ingrained habits. Rare for its exploration of both the philosophy that motivates Buddhism and its practical applications, this is a compassionate guide to leading a good life that anyone can follow. (shrink)

Buddhists consider fear to be a root of suffering. In Chapters 2 and 7 of the Bodhicaryāvatāra, Śāntideva provides a series of provocative verses aimed at inciting fear to motivate taking refuge in the Bodhisattvas and thereby achieve fearlessness. This article aims to analyze the moral psychology involved in this transition. It will structurally analyze fear in terms that are grounded in, and expand upon, an Abhidharma Buddhist analysis of mind. It will then contend that fear, (...) taking refuge, and fearlessness are complex intentional attitudes and will argue that the transition between them turns on relevant changes in their intentional objects. This will involve analyzing the object of fear into four aspects and 'taking refuge' as a mode of trust that ameliorates these four aspects. This analysis will also distinguish two modes of taking refuge and show the progressive role each might play in the transition from fear to fearlessness. (shrink)

Morrison offers an illuminating study of two linked traditions that have figured prominently in twentieth-century thought: Buddhism and the philosophy of Nietzsche. Nietzsche admired Buddhism, but saw it as a dangerously nihilistic religion; he forged his own affirmative philosophy in reaction against the nihilism that he feared would overwhelm Europe. Morrison shows that Nietzsche's influential view of Buddhism was mistaken, and that far from being nihilistic, it has notable and perhaps surprising affinities with Nietzsche's own project of the transvaluation of (...) all values. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian-Science Dialogue at the BoundariesPaul O. IngramMuch of the discussion in current science-religion dialogue focuses on "limit" or "boundary" questions.1 In the natural sciences, boundary questions are questions that arise in scientific research that cannot be answered by scientific methods. Boundary questions arise because of (1) the intentional limit of scientific methods of investigation to extremely narrow bits of physical processes while ignoring wider bodies of experience, as well (...) as (2) the resulting incompetence of scientific methods when applied to aesthetic, moral, and religious experiences. Furthermore, scientific theoretical constructions are intentionally falsifiable. Often scientific theories themselves require further theoretical explanation. For example, Isaac Newton (1642-1727) proposed a theory of gravity as a general explanation of the motion of terrestrial objects—such as falling objects like apples—and of the orbits of planets in the solar system. But Newton was unable to offer an explanatory theory of gravity itself and was deeply troubled by the notion of "action at a distance," which he believed was intrinsically impossible. Albert Einstein's (1879-1955) general theory of relativity, although maintaining Newton's three laws of motion, fills in this gap in Newton's theory by explaining gravity as the warping of space occupied by objects such as planets, stars, and galaxies rather than action at a distance.In other words, boundary questions create methodological and conceptual constraints that often lead to deeper knowledge of the universe's physical structures. At the same time, boundary questions also tend to engender metaphysical questions along with scientific questions. For example, standard Big Bang theory about the origins of the universe imposes a temporal boundary that constrains what cosmologists can know about the universe. Why is there a universe at all? The standard response is that cosmologists can describe how the universe originated with a high degree of probability, but are ignorant, or at least agnostic, about why the universe exists. Here, a boundary question generated by the application of scientific methods in cosmology generates a metaphysical question cosmology is incapable of answering. Whenever this happens, an opening is created for science-religion dialogue in general, and a science-Buddhist-Christian "trilogue" in particular.But boundary questions are not limited to the natural sciences. Religious questions [End Page 165] incapable of solution through the application of theological or philosophical methods arise at the boundaries engendered by what Joseph Campbell (1904-1987) called "the universals of human experience," meaning experiences all human beings undergo no matter what their cultural or religious environments might be. For example, the experience of suffering raises the theodicy problem for classical Christian theism. How can a loving, omnipotent creator of the universe permit unmerited suffering? Here, the assertion of God's creative power and love creates a boundary question that cannot be resolved apart from rethinking the nature of God, as in process theology.Anxiety and confrontation with death, as well as experiences of beauty, joy, hunger, fear, hope, and anger, and the need for community are also examples of universals of human experience. Buddhists and Christians theoretically interpret the meaning of such experiences according to their particular texts, doctrinal formulations, and practice traditions. Similarly, the work done by scientists is influenced by their cultural contexts, although on a shorter-term basis than is the case with religions. As in the natural sciences, religious constructs are also theory laden, so that neither Christian theology nor Buddhist philosophy can claim complete knowledge. What, exactly, is the nature of God? What, exactly, is Awakening? The standard Christian and Buddhist responses are that God or Awakening are ultimately beyond human thought because both transcend anything human beings can imagine them to be, or not to be.Still, boundary constraints do not imply that significant and reliable knowledge is impossible in the sciences or in Buddhist or Christian thought. To conclude that scientists, Buddhists, or Christians cannot achieve complete knowledge via scientific method, the practice of Buddhist philosophy, or the practice of Christian theological reflection because of boundary constraints does not imply that the sciences have not amassed an incredible body of reliable knowledge about physical reality, or that Buddhists and Christians have not accumulated large bodies of reliable knowledge... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Hobbits as Buddhists and an Eye for an "I"Paul Andrew PowellWhen a medieval scholar friend of mine1 (knowing that I am a longstanding student of Zen), asked me if I would read J. R. R. Tolkien's famous fantasy trilogy The Lord of the Rings to see what Buddhism, if any, could be culled from it, I was not enthusiastic, especially after watching the movie (yes, I watched the movie (...) before I embarked on the text), so full of heroes, their passionate violence, monster-like foes, and fantastic scenarios.2 Hardly the compassion of the Buddha, I thought. The trilogy is as well replete with Christian references and Tolkien was a devout Catholic, and much has been written on these and that, but I decided that that literature would not b e germane to this short and singular investigation. At any rate, I was not encouraged about the project, and yet, a certain character did happen to exhibit one intriguing feature that caught my Buddhist attention from the beginning. And as I began to read deeper into the text, a larger—implausible, some would say—thesis began to form in my mind around this character's one particular attribute. And I thought that at least I might cultivate one's imagination and jar one's thinking in productive ways. So I confess that the inferences I make and conclusions I draw here may be a bit fantastic (perhaps to match the material). But, to answer the question: Is there any Buddhism in The Lord of the Rings? Please keep an open mind, and in the spirit of fantasy, indulge my commentary on this quest.Sauron's EyeSauron's Eye can be associated with at least two considered forms of consciousness: will and omnipresence. It is "The Eye: that horrible growing sense of a hostile will that strove with great power to pierce all shadows of cloud, and earth, and flesh, and to see you: to pin you under its deadly gaze, naked, immovable."3 Also, we find that "The Dark Lord was suddenly aware of him [Frodo], the Eye piercing all shadows... Its wrath blazed like a sudden flame and its fear was like a great black smoke, for it knew its deadly peril, the thread upon which hung its doom... [I]ts thought was now bent with all its overwhelming force upon the Mountain."4 But will (we will return [End Page 31] to "omnipresence" some other time) is a neutral force. And clearly, Sauron's will is not neutral; it is a profoundly malevolent will. For we can also read that Sauron is a "dreadful menace of power... brooding in deep thought and dreadful malice."5 He is full of "policies and webs of fear and treachery... stratagems and wars."6An Eye For An I?Buddhism is a practice which reveals the true nature of things: self, reality, suffering. So let's more deeply consider the nature of Sauron's corruption. It seems unlikely, from a Buddhist view, that the Oxford scholar's central villain is a simple stand-in for brute evil (as might appear upon a first reading), for if evil is ontological then the only reasonable response to it is to strategize how best to cope with its encounter. This, in fact, is the Christian response to evil. Evil is: it exists a priori as a supernatural force outside of human intervention and its temptations may be successfully resisted through self-discipline and moral strength, and possibly an appeal to the supernatural, but never defeated absolutely by a stratagem of human will. It is true that Frodo struggles to resist the Ring's power, but mere coping is not the Fellowship's strategy. The fact that Tolkien's Fellowship actually undertakes to destroy the Ring through stratagem admits that Sauron's corruption is an emergent property of an underlying and vulnerable source rather than a supernatural, a priori property outside of human intervention.Instructively, and like the Fellowship, Buddhists as well understand that human suffering possesses an underlying and vulnerable source that can be overcome in human terms, and this vulnerable source of suffering is the human I. The Buddha... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 22 (2002) 201-202 [Access article in PDF] Conference on Pure Land Buddhism in Dialogue with Christian Theology James Fredericks Loyola Marymount University As Charlie Parker devotees will attest, improvisation at its most thrilling, if not its most ingenious, is often the result of careful planning. Cannot something similar be said of interreligious dialogue? All our planning and study are best put to use when they suddenly become (...) mere prologue to an encounter that has forced us off the well-trodden path. A dialogue meeting at Loyola Marymount University, September 9-14, 2001, began with much planning and became highly improvisational on September 11th.The roots of this conference go back to discussions between Dennis Hirota and myself in Kyoto in 1998-1999. The two of us are interested in contributing to the future development of Shin Buddhism by placing it in dialogue with Christian theology. The focus here is on Christian theology as one aspect of Christianity's response to the modern world. We are both interested in investigating various theological methods as Christian responses to modernity, and the contributions these methods have made to the reform and renewal of Christian institutions. The ulterior purpose of these investigations is to think in new ways about how a Buddhist "theology" might contribute to the institutional reform and religious renewal of Shin Buddhism.A first dialogue meeting was held at Chikushi Jogakuen University (Dazaifu, Japan) in June of 2000. Participants included faculty from Chikushi Jogakuen, Charlie Hallisey (then of Harvard University), Peter McCormick (International Academy for Philosophy, Liechtenstein), and me (Loyola Marymount University). A second meeting was held at Loyola Marymount in September 2001. For one week, beginning September 6th, meetings were held at the Shin Buddhist temple and a neighboring Roman Catholic parish in the Little Tokyo district of Los Angeles, followed by an academic conference at Loyola Marymount starting on Monday, September 10th. These meetings brought together faculty from Chikushi Jogakuen and Loyola Marymount, Shin Buddhist specialists from the Eastern Buddhist Society in Tokyo, ministers from the Los Angeles Nishi and Higashi Honganji Temples, Charlie Hallisey (Wisconsin), and John Ross Carter (Colgate University). The visiting Buddhists had a chance to meet with the Buddhist-Catholic dialogue group in Los Angeles. Papers were presented on a number of subjects, including (1) Christian theology's [End Page 201] contribution to institutional reform and religious renewal in recent Roman Catholic history and its implications for Shin Buddhism in both the United States and Japan; (2) theological method and moral theology in relation to end of life issues from both a Shin and Christian perspective; (3) truth and history in interreligious understanding; (4) Shin Buddhism, Christianity and religious responses to social discrimination; and (5) Christian theology as a stimulus to the development of a Shin Buddhist theology.On the morning of September 11th, dialogue as formal academic presentations ended and dialogue as spontaneous improvisation began. With U.S. air transportation closed down by the federal government, prospects for return flights to Japan were indefinitely postponed. A planned outing to watch Ichiro Suzuki (of the Seattle Mariners) play the Angels had to be canceled (Anaheim stadium was also closed). Instead, Christians and Buddhists, Americans and Japanese suddenly were brought together in ways they could not have predicted and began to improvise. The campus ministry of Loyola Marymount organized an impromptu mass for the entire university on the evening of September 11th. The Buddhist visitors were given a place of honor at the liturgy and publicly welcomed as guests of the Catholic community. The psalm response for the mass was a musical setting of the words, "Shepherd me oh Lord, beyond my wants, beyond my fears, from death into life." In the days that followed, this text became the basis for very affecting conversations among the Buddhists and the Christians in response to the terrorist attacks. From the Shin perspective, Buddhists were able to bring a depth of meaning to these words even as they were interested in what the psalm might mean to Christians.Like improvisation in jazz, interreligious dialogue is sometimes at its... (shrink)

SUMMARY OF INTRODUCTION TO EARLY BUDDHISM Introduction to Early Buddhism by Frank J. Hoffman is a work designed for introducing students to the central philosophical themes and issues in early Buddhism. The book is divided topically into chapters that give an overview of the life of the Buddha, Buddhism and Buddhist texts, Logic, Epistemology, Ethics, and Metaphysics. Each of the chapters focus on a selection of Pali sutta (discourses) that explain the Buddhist position on the topic of that chapter. Buddhism (...) is explained in its own terms through the text summaries themselves. The chapter on Logic, Truth, and Method focuses on a discussion of right communication giving attention to discourses that explain non-contradiction, the importance of dhamma or truth, and the method of non-contention. The chapter on Epistemology introduces the Buddhist views on what constitutes right knowledge by focusing on the noble way to enlightenment as opposed to ignoble living, threefold knowledge, speculative questions, mastering fear, and achieving freedom of mind through meditation. The chapter on Buddhist Ethics focuses on skillful and unskillful actions affecting rebirth rather than caste, methods of arriving at perfect view, and social equality. The chapter on Metaphysics includes summaries of discourses summarized that involve a discussion of rebirth, the middle way, impermanence and destruction of defilements, the parable of the raft, knowledge of marvelous rebirths, impermanence and release from suffering, and the conversion of a murderer. Each chapter concludes with a series of discussion questions to help the student better understand the contents of the book and promote their own philosophical journey. A glossary of important Pali Buddhist terms is provided, along with an index. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:IntroductionAuthority in Buddhism and ChristianityElizabeth HarrisThis issue of Buddhist-Christian Studies contains the papers 1 presented at the conference of the European Network of Buddhist Christian Studies, held in June 2009 at the Benedictine Archabbey of St. Ottilien near Munich on the theme “Authority in Buddhism and Christianity.” 2The European Network of Buddhist Christian Studies grew from a conference convened by the Rev. Gerhard Köberlin at the Academy of Mission (...) in Hamburg in 1996, which drew together Christians involved in the academic study of Buddhism. The next conference, held at the Archabbey of St. Ottilien, attracted Buddhist participants also. It was at this point that the current name of the network was adopted. The aims of the network are to promote within Buddhist-Christian relations mutual understanding and dialogue, academic study, and practical cooperation and friendship. The network’s main activity is a biennial academic conference on a theme important to the development of Buddhist-Christian relations. Conference themes have included “Buddhist Perceptions of Jesus”; “Christian Perceptions of the Buddha”; “Buddhism, Christianity and Creation”; “Conversion and Religious Identity in Buddhism and Christianity”; and “Buddhist Attitudes to Other Religions.” 3 Invited presentations on selected aspects of the chosen theme, each of which is addressed by a Buddhist and a Christian, form the core of each conference. The papers from the “Authority” conference follow the same pattern.The theme of authority was chosen because of its central significance in the contemporary world, not only to religious traditions but also to secular society. When, as the current President of the network, I gave an introduction to the theme of authority in Buddhism and Christianity on the first evening, I began with secular society and the play Waiting for Godot.4 Written by the English playwright Samuel Beckett, it was first performed in 1955. Many viewers were mystified by it because there was so little action. The play focuses on Vladimir and Estragon, two elderly men, dressed in ragged clothes, who talk together in a nondescript place, close to a tree. They are waiting for Godot, a shadowy figure of hope or authority, with whom they believe they have an appointment. Godot never comes, although a boy comes on stage to say [End Page 43] that Godot will definitely come the next day. Behind the conversation lies the threat of punishment: “And they didn’t beat you?” Vladimir asks Estragon at the beginning. “Certainly they beat me!” Estragon replies. The agents of this never appear and are never defined.The play is shot through with religious imagery, but it is twisted and distorted, placed within a barren landscape, in which the two men create a world for themselves through words. The lack or failure of any authority is a central theme of the play. Believing they have an appointment with “authority,” the men are unable to move or use self-directed agency. I compared this with the figure of authority in Philip Pullman’s trilogy, His Dark Materials. At the beginning, what is named “The Authority” by “religious” leaders appears anything but shadowy. It is magisterial and Godlike, and inspires powerful institutions. In the end, however, this Authority is revealed as a thing of shadows—a pitiful, terrified, wizened old man. Pullman describes him as “demented and powerless,” weeping, mumbling in fear and pain and misery.5 He is as light as paper and has no will of his own. When he is taken out of his cage, the wind takes him and he disintegrates with an expression of profound relief on his face.Waiting for Godot and His Dark Materials give expression to the crisis of authority in our postmodern world, the first theme that the conference and this volume explores. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, authority is first and foremost the power or right to enforce obedience. That any being, institution, or set of beliefs should have that power, however, is being called into question throughout the world. Kajsa Ahlstrand, in her contribution, examines differing attitudes toward authority in the Christian tradition, paying particular attention to the consequences for Christianity of the twentieth century crisis in obedience, which was sharpened by awareness that the Holocaust was... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Great Awakening: A Buddhist Social TheoryChristopher IvesThe Great Awakening: A Buddhist Social Theory. By David R. Loy. Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2003. 228 pp.In recent decades, the Dalai Lama, Thich Nhat Hanh, the Buddhist Peace Fellowship, the International Network of Engaged Buddhists, and other "Engaged Buddhists" have been responding to a range of social, political, and economic issues. To date, however, they have not coupled their wide-ranging and (...) sustained praxis with an equal measure of systematic, rigorous theory. Granted, facing such urgent problems as war, poverty, and environmental degradation, few if any of us would urge them to put their activism on hold until they clarify their theoretical foundations. Yet given how these Buddhists have diverged on such issues as abortion, homosexuality, intoxicants, possible legitimate uses of violence, and sexual contact between Buddhist teachers and students, further theoretical labor would sharpen their praxis and develop Buddhist social ethics.In this respect, David Loy's The Great Awakening deserves a close read. Though not pursuing the degree of systematic theorizing implied by the subtitle, A Buddhist Social Theory, Loy takes a significant step in that direction. After expounding on Buddhist dukkha (suffering) and linking it to "social dukkha" (ch. 1), Loy offers discerning treatment of poverty (ch. 2), globalization (ch. 3), corporations (ch. 4), the "war on terror" (ch. 5), crime and punishment (ch. 6), violence (ch. 7), technology (ch. 8), and worldviews that exacerbate or help resolve our environmental crisis (ch.9). [End Page 170]Drawing on two of his previous books, Nonduality and Lack and Transcendence, Loy deploys the constructs of nonduality and lack to grapple with these issues. Working over the "three marks of existence" (suffering, impermanence, and no-self), Loy sketches adroitly how the vague recognition that we lack any substantial self or soul leads us to engage in fearful "reality projects," attempts to "ground" ourselves "by modifying the world" (p. 164) or by objectifying ourselves as something real in the world (p. 22). This response to "lack" is exacerbated by dualistic ways of knowing: "The sense of duality between ourselves and the world feeds our insecurity and therefore our preoccupation with power, which we seek in order to secure ourselves. The unfortunate fact that we never feel secure enough is experienced as a lack of sufficient power" (p. 29). Overall, Loy's presentation of the cause of suffering (dukkha) in terms of lack, fear, reality projects, and dualism augments well the traditional Buddhist focus on clinging and ignorance of impermanence.Loy develops his analysis by expounding on the three types of suffering outlined in the Pali canon and their connection to social dukkha. He amplifies the construct of the "three poisons" (greed, ill will, and delusion) by highlighting their "institutionalization" and the ways in which capitalism promotes and spreads these mental states (pp. 80–86). And, proceeding along this trajectory, he expands the scope of the traditional antidotes to the three poisons: "Collectively as well as individually, institutionally as well as personally, greed must be transformed into generosity, ill will into loving-kindness, ignorance into wisdom" (p. 29). Loy also deploys Buddhist critiques of dualistic conceptualization to point out that the problem of poverty concerns not only the lack of material things needed for physical well-being but several other dimensions: "the craving for wealth as haunted by fear of poverty, global poverty as necessary to monetarize and commodify the 'undeveloped' world, and poverty as a necessary benchmark for the wealthy to appreciate their own achievements" (p. 196).Other parts of the book deserving close attention are Loy's social interpretation of the five precepts (p. 38), his sketch of the common ground between Christianity and Buddhism (pp. 117–119), and his presentation of karma, about which he writes, "we construct ourselves by what we choose to do. My sense of self is a precipitate of my habitual ways of thinking, feeling, and acting. Just as my body is composed of the food I eat, so my character is built by my conscious decisions" (p. 7). And contrary to those who construe contemporary Engaged Buddhism as the first form of Buddhism to engage itself significantly with sociopolitical problems, Loy astutely... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Great Awakening: A Buddhist Social TheoryChristopher IvesThe Great Awakening: A Buddhist Social Theory. By David R. Loy. Boston: Wisdom Publications, 2003. 228 pp.In recent decades, the Dalai Lama, Thich Nhat Hanh, the Buddhist Peace Fellowship, the International Network of Engaged Buddhists, and other "Engaged Buddhists" have been responding to a range of social, political, and economic issues. To date, however, they have not coupled their wide-ranging and (...) sustained praxis with an equal measure of systematic, rigorous theory. Granted, facing such urgent problems as war, poverty, and environmental degradation, few if any of us would urge them to put their activism on hold until they clarify their theoretical foundations. Yet given how these Buddhists have diverged on such issues as abortion, homosexuality, intoxicants, possible legitimate uses of violence, and sexual contact between Buddhist teachers and students, further theoretical labor would sharpen their praxis and develop Buddhist social ethics.In this respect, David Loy's The Great Awakening deserves a close read. Though not pursuing the degree of systematic theorizing implied by the subtitle, A Buddhist Social Theory, Loy takes a significant step in that direction. After expounding on Buddhist dukkha (suffering) and linking it to "social dukkha" (ch. 1), Loy offers discerning treatment of poverty (ch. 2), globalization (ch. 3), corporations (ch. 4), the "war on terror" (ch. 5), crime and punishment (ch. 6), violence (ch. 7), technology (ch. 8), and worldviews that exacerbate or help resolve our environmental crisis (ch.9). [End Page 170]Drawing on two of his previous books, Nonduality and Lack and Transcendence, Loy deploys the constructs of nonduality and lack to grapple with these issues. Working over the "three marks of existence" (suffering, impermanence, and no-self), Loy sketches adroitly how the vague recognition that we lack any substantial self or soul leads us to engage in fearful "reality projects," attempts to "ground" ourselves "by modifying the world" (p. 164) or by objectifying ourselves as something real in the world (p. 22). This response to "lack" is exacerbated by dualistic ways of knowing: "The sense of duality between ourselves and the world feeds our insecurity and therefore our preoccupation with power, which we seek in order to secure ourselves. The unfortunate fact that we never feel secure enough is experienced as a lack of sufficient power" (p. 29). Overall, Loy's presentation of the cause of suffering (dukkha) in terms of lack, fear, reality projects, and dualism augments well the traditional Buddhist focus on clinging and ignorance of impermanence.Loy develops his analysis by expounding on the three types of suffering outlined in the Pali canon and their connection to social dukkha. He amplifies the construct of the "three poisons" (greed, ill will, and delusion) by highlighting their "institutionalization" and the ways in which capitalism promotes and spreads these mental states (pp. 80–86). And, proceeding along this trajectory, he expands the scope of the traditional antidotes to the three poisons: "Collectively as well as individually, institutionally as well as personally, greed must be transformed into generosity, ill will into loving-kindness, ignorance into wisdom" (p. 29). Loy also deploys Buddhist critiques of dualistic conceptualization to point out that the problem of poverty concerns not only the lack of material things needed for physical well-being but several other dimensions: "the craving for wealth as haunted by fear of poverty, global poverty as necessary to monetarize and commodify the 'undeveloped' world, and poverty as a necessary benchmark for the wealthy to appreciate their own achievements" (p. 196).Other parts of the book deserving close attention are Loy's social interpretation of the five precepts (p. 38), his sketch of the common ground between Christianity and Buddhism (pp. 117–119), and his presentation of karma, about which he writes, "we construct ourselves by what we choose to do. My sense of self is a precipitate of my habitual ways of thinking, feeling, and acting. Just as my body is composed of the food I eat, so my character is built by my conscious decisions" (p. 7). And contrary to those who construe contemporary Engaged Buddhism as the first form of Buddhism to engage itself significantly with sociopolitical problems, Loy astutely... (shrink)

We tend to want to avoid and ignore our dark or difficult emotions, biases, and tendencies-and we eschew them on a cultural and societal level because they reveal painful, ugly truths. The labeling of darkness as "negative" becomes a collective excuse to justify avoiding everything that makes humans uncomfortable: racism, spiritual bypass, environmental destruction. Welcoming darkness with curiosity and reverence, rather than fear or judgment, enables us to access our innate capacity for compassion and collective healing. In Seeing with (...) the Heart, dharma teacher, shaman, and deep ecologist Deborah Eden Tull asks us to recognize, explore, and engage with the darkness we experience in our lives in order to learn important lessons and tools for bringing awakening, healing, and compassion to ourselves-and to our world. In an age of global uncertainty, Tull presents the radical teaching of endarkenment--that we can only awaken to wholeness through fully embracing the dark. Darkness, she posits, is not the absence of light, but an intrinsic, vital, healing, and restorative aspect of nature. Tull addresses the spiritual, ecological, psychological, and interpersonal ramifications of our bias towards light over dark. She offers a radical path to wholeness that can be found only through learning to embrace the interplay of both darkness and light, within ourselves and within our world. She offers inspiring teachings, meditations, and mindful inquiry questions to integrate into our daily practice an experiential understanding of endarkenment. (shrink)

We all face death, but how many of us are actually ready for it? Whether our own death or that of a loved one comes first, how prepared are we, spiritually or practically? In Preparing to Die, Andrew Holecek presents a wide array of resources to help the reader address this unfinished business. Part One shows how to prepare one's mind and how to help others, before, during, and after death. The author explains how spiritual preparation for death can completely (...) transform our relationship to the end of life, dissolving our fear and helping us to feel open and receptive to letting go in the dying process. Daily meditation practices, the stages of dying and how to work with them, and after-death experiences are all detailed in ways that will be particularly helpful for those with an interest in Tibetan Buddhism and in Tibetan approaches to conscious dying. Part Two addresses the practical issues that surround death. Experts in grief, hospice, the funeral business, and the medical and legal issues of death contribute chapters to prepare the reader for every practical concern, including advance directives, green funerals, the signs of death, warnings about the funeral industry, the stages of grief, and practical care for the dying. Part Three contains heart-advice from twenty of the best-known Tibetan Buddhist masters now teaching in the West. These brief interviews provide words of solace and wisdom to guide the dying and their caregivers during this challenging time. Preparing to Die is for anyone interested in learning how to prepare for death from a Buddhist perspective, both spiritually and practically. It is also for those who want to learn how to help someone else who is dying, both during the time of illness and death as well as after death. (shrink)

Therav?da Buddhism can be stereotyped as having a negative view of the body. This paper argues that this stereotype is a distortion. Recognizing that representations of the body in Therav?da text and tradition are plural, the paper draws on the Sutta Pi?aka of the P?li texts and the Visuddhimagga, together with interviews with lay Buddhists in Sri Lanka, to argue that an internally consistent and meaningful picture can be reached, suitable particularly to those teaching Buddhism, if these representations are categorised (...) under three headings and differentiated according to function: the body as problem ; the body as teacher ; the liberated body. It also examines two realizations that accompany the development of a liberated body: realizing purity of body in meditation; realizing compassion. It concludes that compassion for self all embodied beings is the most truly Therav?da Buddhist response to embodiment, not pride or fear, disgust or repression. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Integrating Christ and the Saints into Buddhist Ritual:The Christian Homa of Yogi ChenRichard K. PayneConcern with dual belonging reflects the increasing religious pluralism of European and American societies. This pluralism has included both an increasing variety of religious traditions from outside the monotheistic mainstream of Abrahamic religions as well as new movements and sects within that mainstream. Awareness that religious pluralism is a reality and that many people have (...) come to see this pluralism as offering viable religious alternatives has fostered much reflection, both scholarly and popular. This increasing variety of religions present in Europe and America results from broader social trends. Discussion of these broader social trends, however, lies outside the scope of this essay, which is an examination of the utility of the concept of dual belonging for the sociology of religion.1Dual belonging (also known as double belonging, multiple religious belonging, and so on) becomes a specifically religious issue against the background of theological responses to the reality of religious pluralism. These theological responses include, first, the comparative theology of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, then theology of religions as developed in the middle to late twentieth century, and then the “new” comparative theology2 that has developed from the end of the twentieth into the present century.3 Another dimension that has influenced the discussion of dual belonging has been the efforts of Buddhist-Christian dialogue.4 The concern on the part of religious authorities, theologians, and, one should add, parents has been not just that “they” are now “here,” but that awareness of other religions also creates the opportunity for them to be actively embraced as viable alternatives to more familiar, mainstream religious traditions.5 While conversion has been one of the motivating concerns, another can perhaps be described as the fear of impurity. As Meredith B. McGuire has noted, in contrast to “the Western image of a religion as a unitary, organizationally defined, and relatively stable set of collective beliefs and practices” stands the reality that “extensive religious blending and within-group religious heterogeneity are the norm, rather than the exception.”6 This reality conflicts [End Page 37] with legitimating rhetorics of purity and authenticity, and constitutes a challenge to the authority of those who claim the right to define and defend what they hold as the pure and authentic.yogi chen and religiously hybrid practiceThe discourse regarding dual belonging has largely focused on Christians residing in the cultural West, where they are members of the dominant society and dominant religious culture, but who also identify with Buddhism.7 This reflects the predominant role played by theological concerns in the creation and application of the category of dual belonging. Thus it seems appropriate that Wendy Cadge has asked whether the concept and its cognates can be employed as a “descriptive term for understanding issues of religious globalization and their expression at the level of individual religious commitment.” In order to answer this question, the concept of dual belonging needs to be evaluated, testing whether it is applicable to those who are not members of the demographic that has largely been the subject of study so far. Here we reverse the lens to look at someone who is both not originally a Christian, but who integrates Christian symbolism into his practice, and not part of the dominant culture, an immigrant, a minority both socially and religiously. This instance allows us to examine the category for wider application than to those to whom it has been applied to date.8 Our test case will be a Chinese Buddhist teacher known as Yogi Chen.Yogi Chen (1906–1987) was a Chinese practitioner of esoteric Buddhism who immigrated to the United States in 1972 and practiced in the San Francisco Bay Area for the last decade and a half of his life. Like many modern Chinese teachers, he claimed to bring together all of the teachings and practices of the Theravada, Mahayana, and Vajrayana strains of Buddhism. In addition to practicing in retreat in Hunan, he also studied and practiced with the expatriate Tibetan community in India. During the final period of his life, as an immigrant in the United States, he... (shrink)

This chapter asks how moral shame and dread in Theravāda Buddhist philosophy compare with their appropriated use in contemporary Thai society. There has been a received view or an appropriated understanding of these concepts, warning against doing bad deeds. Moral shame and dread imply an irrational fear of doing something morally horrible in this contemporary usage. For example, one has an excessive fear of punishments in purgatory and believes it should be the sole morally appropriate reason for not (...) killing. However, how does this appropriated understanding differ from the original Buddhist understanding? This chapter argues that they differ in their philosophical assumptions: causalism and possibilism. Theravāda philosophy espouses causalism, the view that one should avoid bad deeds because of the doctrine of karma. On the other hand, the appropriated understanding implies possibilism, with a scrupulosity-based assumption that avoiding evil behaviors is motivated by the grip of unreasonable fear that doing them could result in irredeemable errors. I offer a new conception of meditative intentionality's power to solve this implied irrational fear problem. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The 2003 Meeting of the Society for Buddhist-Christian StudiesFrances S. AdeneyThe 2003 meeting of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies was held in Atlanta, Georgia, 21-22 November 2003. This year's theme was "Overcoming Greed: Christians and Buddhists in a Consumeristic Culture." During the first session panelists Paula Cooey, Valerie Karras, and John Cobb, whose paper was read by Jay McDaniel, presented Christian views and Stephanie Kaza gave a Buddhist response. (...) The second session mirrored the first with panelists Kenneth Kraft, David Barnhill, and Judith Simmer-Brown presenting Buddhist views on the theme and Paul Knitter responded with a Christian analysis.Cooey began the discussion by outlining her thesis that overcoming greed depends on overcoming fear. She asserted that people buy out of fear thus perpetuating a system of greed. The consequences of fear support the cultural myth of upward mobility—there is no way to go but up. The exploitation of fear then produces goods benefiting those at the top of the economic system. This system also produces consequences for human rights as cultural fear leads to laws that thwart due process, for example, the Patriot Act.An alternative Christian view understands desire to be culturally produced—sin upsets the natural order; God redeems. Christian transformation requires dissent against the underlying greed that supports the cultural system.Christianity arose as a movement of dissent, a countercultural movement. That trajectory of dissent has continued through the centuries. Although early Calvinists were noted for linking personal wealth with election, the Mennonites and Anabaptists created better models for practicing dissent. Those communities are based in an economy of grace, supported by an underlying ethic of the ability to give as a gift of grace. This economy, for Christians, is mediated by Jesus of Nazareth and allows for transformation toward becoming greedy for God.Valerie Karras illumined the differences in Christian traditions by her analysis of the difference in anthropology between Eastern and Western Christian theologies. The community model of Eastern Christianity is hostile to the individualism of Western consumerism. Instead, in this model, greed is recognized as a fallen passion, the consequence of separation from God. The two aspects of greed in this view are [End Page 231] acquisitive lust: the desire for control, and desire for the physical acquisition of things.Karras used Clement of Alexandria and John Chrysostom as examples of theologians that criticized the rich and encouraged Christians to use their wealth for the poor. In this view, overcoming greed involves a spiritual process. Virtue can be cultivated by a proper use of wealth, which in itself has no moral content. It is the misuse of wealth that indicates deeper spiritual problems. Some of those spiritual problems can be alleviated by asceticism: celibacy, almsgiving, fasting, and prayer. Such exercises can provide a means to master the vices—greed, in this case, being the vice at hand.John Cobb's paper argued that a theology of consumerism is deeply embedded in our culture. That theology runs counter to traditional Western Christian teaching that consuming more deprives others. The question one must ask is, Does consumption enhance or detract from the common good? Traditional arguments that too much consumption deprives others were rendered obsolete by the industrial revolution. The new problem is how can demand keep up with production. The argument here is that increased consumption benefits others by preventing downturns in the economy.Unfortunately, Cobb argues, the spiritual costs to this pattern of consumption are tremendous. A class of exploited peasants now produces more goods, but has a better society been created? Increasing poverty in two-thirds of the world, global warming, dehumanizing advertising, and the unsustainability of keeping production at current levels press the issue. Human survival depends on changing consumption patterns. The elite must be forced to give up control and we must recover and emphasize the traditional Christian interpretation of greed as a cardinal sin.To accomplish this, Cobb recommends rejecting consumerism in our personal lives, developing local sustainability projects, and demonstrating another world possibility—another way to live that leads to human flourishing. Buddhist and Christian emphases on overcoming consumerism are complimentary and together can make possible the deep changes that are... (shrink)

Negation has occupied a unique place in the history of ideas. Negation as opposed to truth-conditional affirmation has been very much present in Indian and Western thought from very early times. R. S. Bhatnagar of happy memory (1933–2019) in his “Many Splendoured Negation” (Bhatnagar in J Indian Counc Philos Res XXII(3):83–906, 2006) had shown many a facet that could be construed in “negation”. This paper is an attempt to revisit the notion of negation that R. S. Bhatnagar brought to light (...) and to further the germane thought that he had outlined in his concise exposé. Though Bhatnagar had stated that there could be negative and positive functions of negations, a vigilant reading of his article shows that the primary import of Bhatnagar is to examine the positive function of negation. According to R. S. Bhatnagar, even death, which could be the negative in its most feared form, the reality of which, has the positive effect on the soul force in its commitment to live well and die well. R. S. Bhatnagar’s engagement with negation is not complete unless one takes into consideration “negation” as an integral part of philosophizing in India, whether it is the Buddhist tradition or any other tradition. One encounters the philosophical “exercise” on negation enormously in Buddhist thought. The first part of the paper is a brief discussion on the views of Bhatnagar in his essay mentioned with the author’s considerable add-on, while the second part brings home the Buddhist facet and paradigm of negation, the missing link in Bhatnagar. The third part of the paper is an unveilment of the cogitation of R. S. Bhatnagar on “death” in terms of negation. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Mind and Life, Religion and Science: His Holiness the Dalai Lama and the Buddhism-Christianity-Science TrialogueAmos YongIn this essay, I explore what happens to the Buddhist-Christian dialogue when another party is introduced into the conversation, in this case, the sciences. My question concerns how the interface between religion and science is related to the Buddhist-Christian encounter and vice versa. I take up this question in four steps, correlating with the (...) four parts of this essay. First, I sketch a brief overview of the Buddhism-science encounter, and then turn my attention more specifically to the recent exchanges in the Mind and Life dialogues involving Western scientists and philosophers and Tibetan Buddhist practitioners, including His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Then, in our lengthiest discussion, I focus on three of the most recent books related to the Mind and Life series in order to flesh out some of the details of how Tibetan Buddhists in general and His Holiness more specifically are interacting with the sciences. Finally, I return to the larger implications that the Buddhism-science conversation has not only for the Buddhist-Christian dialogue but also potentially for the religion-science encounter.The goal of this essay is to identify the promise and the challenges involved for Buddhists and Christians when the sciences are added into the equation. I am led by a threefold hypothesis. First, the religion side of the “religion and science” dialogue needs to be further specified. Whereas it used to be the case that “religion and science” meant “Christianity and science,” no longer can or should this be assumed. Rather, there is an emerging recognition that distinctive shifts occur in the religion and science discussion when Buddhism is factored into the conversation. Second, the interreligious dialogue in general can itself benefit from engaging a third party, in this case, the natural sciences. More specifically, I am convinced that the Buddhist-Christian dialogue has much to gain when the various scientific disciplines are allowed to inform the discussion. To be sure, there will be distinctive challenges that will present themselves, not the least of which are the methodological complexities regarding the interface between religion and science added to the already complicated methodological issues that perennially beset the interreligious encounter. However it is precisely the emergent comparisons and contrasts in dialogical approaches that [End Page 43] may contribute to pushing the discussion forward. Finally, if it is the case that religion does indeed have something to contribute to its dialogue with the sciences, so much more is it the case that science may benefit not only from the separate insights of two religious traditions, but also from the cross-fertilization that occurs in the interreligious dialogue.Two caveats before proceeding with the essay. First, I speak first and foremost as a Christian theologian with academic training in the study of religion, rather than in Buddhist traditions in particular. While my Christian perspectives will inevitably color my understanding of Buddhism, I believe it is possible in this case, given the hypotheses outlined above, that such “biases” can be profitably harnessed to explore what happens when the Buddhist-Christian dialogue is enlarged to become a trialogue between Buddhism, Christianity, and the sciences. In fact, I am convinced that Christian theology for the twenty-first century needs to dialogue both with other faiths and with the sciences, and this essay is an attempt to bring these essential dialogues together.1Second, I approach the following review essay with a certain degree of fear and trembling given that in a very real sense my primary dialogue partners are Tibetan Buddhist adepts as well as His Holiness the Dalai Lama. I do not in any way intend to be presumptuous about claiming to be able to critically interact with his knowledge of Buddhism or the sciences. On the contrary, I am a mere novice and amateur in these fields of inquiry compared to his lifelong study and practice of the Buddhist tradition, and his decades-long engagement with the sciences. Yet I find encouragement from his own openness to interacting with the Christian tradition and from his willing to learn from Christians and the Christian faith.2 Further... (shrink)

This chapter explores the theoretical and practical aspects of Chinese Mahayana Buddhism’s ethics of generosity from a philosophical point of view. Buddhism is a religion par excellence of strangification and generosity. After an introduction, I discuss some essential sources both from Indian and Chinese Buddhism. Then I develop the idea of strangification and ethic of generosity in Chinese Mahayana Buddhism, before I arrive at some words of conclusion.On the theoretical side, I explore the ontological foundation of the ethics of generosity (...) in The Awakening of Faith. This is one of the founding texts in the history of Chinese Mahayana Buddhism that offers an ontological foundation to Buddhist generosity. It does this by the affirmation of One Mind or the Mind of All Sentient Beings as the Ultimate Reality. However, it also sets certain limits to generosity by denying difference/otherness, and sees difference/otherness as merely a delusion. On the practical side, I discuss three types of gift, namely the gift of material goods, the gift of no fear and the gift of teaching Dharma, and more interestingly, the practice of huixiang 迴向 as discussed by Huiyuan in the entry “huixiang” of his Dasheng Yizhang.Some conclusive reflections are done to consider the Chinese Buddhist ethics of generosity in relation to the post-modern ethics of generosity to many others. (shrink)

In complete distinction to the world or universal religions like Christianity and Buddhism, Shinto is an ethnic religion that has grown out of the history and culture of the Japanese people. Shinto is a way of prayer and festivals that arose from a feeling of awe and reverence towards those entities the Japanese feared and respected as "KAMA (gods, divinities)", whereas Buddhism is a system of belief and practice leading to realization and the attainment of Buddhahood. We can highlight the (...) fundamental differences between Shinto and Buddhism by looking at the following three contrasting features. First, the KAMI simply are, but a Buddha is something that one has tobecome. In other words the KAMI represent the power of existence itself, whereas the Buddha was a human being who became a Buddha only after his enlightenment. Second, the KAMI come towards us but the Buddha goes away from us. Responding to human prayers and festivals, the KAMI make their appearance in that very place, whereas the Buddha departs from this secular world with its delusion and suffering, and makes for the other shore - the world of enlightenment. The third difference is that the KAMI stand whereas the Buddha sits. While the gods are thought to appear standing erect like columns, the Buddhas are envisaged in the meditation posture, doing Zazen to become enlightened. Despite the fact that the KAMA and the Buddhas, Shinto and Buddhism, have these fundamental differences, Shinto and Buddhism in Japan have had a complex relationship characterized by religious fusion. We have to conside how could this have been possible. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Comparative Theology Is Not “Business-as-Usual Theology”:Personal Witness from a Buddhist ChristianPaul F. KnitterThe following reflections find their stimulus and start in a paper prepared for a doctoral seminar on comparative theology led by John Makransky at Boston College. I was asked whether I was a comparative theologian and, if so, what difference it had made in my professional work as a theologian and in my personal life as a (...) Christian. My basic answer was: “Yes, I think so” and “A lot!”In this reworking and expansion of that seminar paper, I hope to unpack that “a lot.” This will enable me not only to carry on the search for clarity (and integrity) that I began in my book Without Buddha I Could Not Be a Christian,1 but also to comment on the promise of comparative theology (CT) and why I fear that this promise all too often goes unfulfilled.What I’m getting at is capsulized in a blurb that John Thatamanil wrote for Michelle Voss Roberts’s Dualities: A Theology of Difference:2 “Comparative theology done well is a dangerous discipline precisely because it raises provocative questions and threatens to put an end to business-as-usual theology.” I fear that some comparative theologians are not taking their job seriously enough—or they are not following through with what they say they want to do. They are carrying on CT as business as usual.moving beyond business-as-usual theologyComparative theology, which two decades ago might have been considered a fade but has become a fixture in Christian theology,3 makes the bold, indeed thoroughly revolutionary, claim that in order to properly carry on the task of Christian theology, the traditional Christian sources—Scripture, tradition, the lex orandi or spiritual practice of the communities—are not enough. A Christian theologian, in order to be a Christian theologian, must also draw on the experience, teachings, scriptures, and insights of other spiritual communities and traditions. CT embodies Raimon Panikkar’s often [End Page 181] cited (at least by me!) dictum: In order to understand who I am, I have to ask who you are. And in order to know my God I have to ask about your God.4If what comparative theologians are here claiming is true, if my understanding of myself is incomplete without my understanding of you, then after I understand you, I can be pretty sure that my understanding of myself is going to be different—really different. Otherwise, I really didn’t need to talk with you in the first place! And this is why Thatamanil can rightly sound his unsettling warning that if CT is another form of business-as-usual theology, if it is not leading to some really new discoveries about oneself and one’s own tradition, then it is not living up to its job description. And that, as I tried to say elsewhere, is what I suspect might be the case.As I survey the output of comparative theologians over the past fifteen years, I sense that, with some promising exceptions among younger scholars, they are strong on comparing but soft on concluding. More pointedly, comparative theology, so far, has been more comparison than theology. There have been intricate comparisons of Christian texts with Hindu texts and of Christian theologians/mystics with Buddhist scholars/mystics. Striking similarities and stark differences have been noted and examined, sometime meticulously. But, where are the clear, creative, courageous conclusions as to what Christians can learn from these comparisons? What might need to be clarified or changed or discarded in traditional Christian doctrine? Especially on the neuralgic and politically dangerous (for Catholics) issue of the uniqueness of Christ, I am not aware of any comparativists who have learned anything new. I would be delighted to be proved wrong.5I suspect that the reason why some comparative theologians are caught in business-as-usual theology is that they are also still lingering under the influence of postmodernism’s and postliberal theology’s insistence on the dominance of diversity. In their concern to respect and defend differences, postmodernists and postliberals conclude that cultures and religions are more different than they... (shrink)

abstract: This essay explores the parallels in the life and teaching of the Korean Zen master Pojo Chinul (1158–1210) and the Franciscan saint and theologian Bonaventure of Bagnoregio (ca. 1217–1274). Living during the same thirteenth century but on opposite sides of the world, both men committed their lives to reforming the religious life and to attaining the experience of awakening in their respective traditions. To this end, both encouraged the study of their foundational texts, together with the earnest practice of (...) meditation and contemplation. Both commented on the issues of a kataphatic and apophatic approach to ultimate reality, finding in the latter a fuller description (by non-description!) of the goal of the spiritual life. Controlling thoughts and developing intuitive wisdom were practices that united the two men, aiming to establish a constant awareness of the numinous moment by moment. In this way, they rejoiced in the freedom from fear bestowed by awakening to a clear vision of things as they really are in the unity of the infinite yet intimate being that undergirds all things. Ultimately, they seem to part company in the practice of devotion, with Bonaventure pointing to the love of the crucified Jesus, and yet even here, the remembrance of the name of the Buddha or the Christ was valued by both as an authentic path to the journey's goal. (shrink)

ABSTRACTR. G. Collingwood's New Leviathan presents an account of two ‘dialectical’ political processes that are ongoing in any body politic. Existing scholarship has already covered the first: a dialectic between a ‘social’ and a ‘non-social’ element, which Collingwood identifies in Hobbes. This essay elucidates a second: a dialectic between Liberals and Conservatives, which regulates the ‘percolation’ of liberty and the rate of recruitment into what Collingwood calls ‘the ruling class’. The details of this second dialectic are to be found not (...) in Hobbes, but in the work of Vilfredo Pareto and Gaetano Mosca, yet Collingwood's connections to these fathers of ‘classical elite theory’ have not previously been discussed. (shrink)