Buddhist Studies in honour of walpola Rahula. Edited by Somaratna Balasooriya et al. Gordon Fraser and Vimamsa 1980. pp. 293+xiii, photo, £20.00.

Abhidharmasamuccaya: The Compendium of Higher Teaching by Asanga. Originally translated into French and annotated by Walpola Rahula. English translation by Sara Boin-Webb. Asian Humanities Press, Fremont, CA 2001. xxvii, 327 pp. $75.00. ISBN 0-89581-941-4.

This article suggests that the popular western image of the Buddha of the Pali suttas has been influenced by the opening pages of Walpola Rahula’s book What the Buddha Taught. It examines two closely linked qualities postulated by Rahula as attributes of the Buddha: that he is respectful of other religions and that he encourages freedom of thought in his followers. It finds Rahula’s evidence faulty at every turn and goes on to give examples of the (...) Buddha’s and suttas’ disrespectful attitude to other faiths, suggesting that in respect of its ‘exclusivism’, the Buddhism of the Pali suttas is no different from other religions. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:If the Buddha Is So Great, Why Are These People Christians?Grace G. BurfordSince I began to study Buddhism as a Swarthmore College undergraduate and recognized my worldview as Buddhist, I have been puzzled about Christians who care about the Buddha. Why would a Christian care about the Buddha? I don’t care a whit about Jesus, hence my difficulty in fathoming how a Christian could get all caught up in (...) the Buddha. To put it another way, especially when I was first “turned on” to Buddhism (it was, after all, the seventies), I had trouble understanding why people who had studied Buddhism extensively, and whom I respected as otherwise quite smart and sensible, seemed to be doggedly determined to stay Christians! All of my Buddhism teachers in the course of my undergraduate and graduate study (with the notable exception of Walpola Rahula) fell in this category, it seemed—though we never really discussed it. Why didn’t we discuss it? I did wonder about how they could dedicate their professional lives to—and be such effective teachers of—a tradition they did not believe in. If they were so taken by Buddhism, why did they hang on to Christianity? If they were Christians, why did they study and teach Buddhism? I guess I assumed it would be impertinent to pursue this question with my teachers and mentors; they were probably (justifiably) somewhat embarrassed by this backwards attachment to Christianity in the face of an obviously superior religion, Buddhism.Why was I so ready to pitch Christianity and take up Buddhism, and my Buddhism teachers were not? Unlike these mentors, by the time I began my study of Buddhism I had already rejected the Christianity in which I was raised. I don’t know why exactly I rejected Christianity so decisively; I had not experienced any trauma in Sunday school and had always loved the community my church provided. But during my junior year in high school I came to the point where I felt certain that I did not believe, nor had I ever really believed, a single word of the Christian creed I could recite so flawlessly. From that time until I discovered Buddhism, I made science-and-rationality my religion. In retrospect, I find it telling that the science I immersed myself in was astronomy—where there was plenty of room for mystery and wonder as I gazed two nights a week through Sproul Observatory’s powerful [End Page 129] twenty-four-inch refractor telescope into the night skies, in the coolest job a college student ever had. I will forever be an advocate of college course-distribution requirements, since it was these—and a friend who confided that “religion courses are not too bad”—that led me to take my first course from Donald Swearer. That same friend avers that I became a religion major because of my work at the telescope. Whatever the explanation, I felt fortunate to have run across Buddhism, to have found a mentor who could teach it so well, and to have discovered a religious path I could embrace enthusiastically. So why did my teacher hold back? Now there was a mystery.I have confessed before in the pages of this journal that my motives for participating in Buddhist-Christian dialogue and cross-religious discussions in general might seem ignoble, or at least not up to the usual expectations of this group. For some reason, my total abandonment of Christianity in my teen years has stuck (well into my forties, anyway). I honestly do not expect my predominantly Buddhist worldview to be enriched by learning more about Christianity. Nevertheless, I am fascinated with and continually enriched by other people and their religions. Despite my aversion to Christianity, I see that Christians are people, too. In fact, I am surrounded by Christians who, for better or worse, operate out of a Christian worldview. I am convinced we need each other, that we must work together to make the world a better place, especially in terms of the environmental crisis and social justice issues. So I am stuck with needing to understand Christians, especially the ones (such as the members of this... (shrink)

Many have considered Buddhism to be the religion closest in spirit to J. Krishnamurti’s spiritual teaching–even though the great teacher was famous for urging students to seek truth outside organized religion. This record of a historic encounter between Krishnamurti and a group of Buddhist scholars provides a unique opportunity to see what the great teacher had to say himself about Buddhist teachings. The conversations, which took place in London in the late 1970s, focused on human consciousness and its potential for (...) transformation. Participants include Walpola Rahula, the renowned Sri Lankan Buddhist monk and scholar, author of the classic introductory text What the Buddha Taught. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The BuddhaTerry C. MuckWhen I think of the Buddha, the subject of my scholarly study, the picture my mind produces is soft and blurred at the edges—out of focus but not in a way that makes it difficult to see or understand. It is more in the way a photography studio uses background and light to project the subject forward. The Buddha, in my mind’s eye, seems friendly, accessible. (...) This Buddha, my Buddha, manages to combine great warmth and great mystery.By contrast, when I think of Jesus, the object of my faith, I see clearly a well-defined personality. There is no portraiture here. It is more like a candid snapshot taken by a very good camera with plenty of natural light; a great photograph, a picture that produces a clear image, in my mind at least, of a person I know and understand. It is a picture of someone walking around Palestine doing great deeds, a father to my Buddha brother—and to me.I love both the Buddha and Jesus. I have loved Jesus since early Sunday school days in Huntington, Indiana, at the Bible Baptist Church on Lake Street. I have loved the Buddha since I first began reading about him in graduate school at Northwestern University and listening to Walpola Rahula lecture about him in classes there. Both the Buddha and Jesus were great men, doing divine things that have changed the world for billions after them. The differences my mind produces are in the realm of qualities. I love them both, but I see them differently.Why the differences? I suppose one reason is that they are different. Gautama Buddha lived in sixth-century B.C.E. India where he was the son of a king, chose a life of religious itinerancy, and died of food poisoning at eighty years of age. Jesus lived in Palestine in the first century C.E. where he was the son of a carpenter, chose a life of religious itinerancy, and was crucified by the Roman authorities after being convicted on a charge of political subversion.They both chose a life of religious itinerancy, to be sure. But the meaning of each of those traveling lives has been the subject of great debate, both within and without their respective religious traditions. Disagreements abound. In fact, in one of those [End Page 105] odd quirks of human cantankerousness, the deeper one gets into each of the traditions, Buddhism and Christianity, the more diverse and passionate are the views about the Buddha and the Christ.The diversity of views deep within each tradition can be stunning to the average Buddhist and Christian on the street, who tend to have a rather homogenized view of each other—kind of a standard life story that could be easily summarized in the pages and pictures of a comic book. But deep within the traditions, Buddhists argue about Buddha nature, Buddha veneration, and the role the Buddha plays in human liberation. Christians argue about Jesus’ divine and human status, his uniqueness, and the role he plays in human salvation. One good thing about all this disagreement: it makes my musings about the Buddha and Jesus pale in comparison.Still, I would like to understand better. Why do I see the Buddha and Jesus differently?Socialization and HistorySurely the most important reason can be summarized in one word: socialization. I was raised to love Jesus, to believe in him. Here’s how I was raised to see Jesus: Jesus is God’s son, born to a woman named Mary and a man named Joseph. God sent Jesus to help human beings lost in a morass of bad deeds, psychological confusion, and social injustices. This melange of evil is so pervasive among human beings that solutions can only come from someone outside the system, willing to enter into the system and guide others out, both by what he says and by what he does—how he lives his life.What Jesus said, what Jesus did, and who Jesus was—all are unique. Others of us can try to live like Jesus—indeed, we should. But none of us, not one, can... (shrink)

Zen and the Taming of the Bull. Towards the Definition of Buddhist Thought. Essays by Walpola Rahula. Gordon Frazer, London 1978. 160 pp. £6.50.

A Critical Study of the Mahavastu. Telwatte Rahula. Motilal Banarsidass, Delhi 1978. xv-435 pp. Rs 90.

Several recent writers, of whom the most important and accessible, for English readers, are probably K. N. Jayatilleke and W. Rahula, have drawn attention to the fact that Buddhism, unlike many other religious philosophies, regards personal experience as the only valid source of knowledge. The Buddha himself is said to have distinguished between those who base their religion, or world-view, on tradition, those who base it on reasoning and speculation, and those who base it on personal experience, as he (...) does himself: I am one of those who profess the basis of a religion after finding a final and ultimate insight in this life by gaining a higher knowledge personally of a doctrine among doctrines not traditionally heard of before. (shrink)

A blueprint for a life of mindfulness, dedicated to the easing of suffering both for oneself and for others. The story of Shakyamuni Buddha's epic journey to enlightenment is perhaps the most important narrative in the Buddhist tradition. Tenzin Chögyel's The Life of the Buddha, composed in the mid-eighteenth century and now in a vivid new translation, is a masterly storyteller's rendition of the twelve acts of the Buddha. Chögyel's classical tale seamlessly weaves together the vast and the minute, the (...) earthly and the celestial, reflecting the near-omnipresent aid of the gods alongside the Buddha's moving final reunion with his devoted son, Rahula. The Life of the Buddha has the power to engage people through a deeply human story with cosmic implications. (shrink)