Life, and defining it

If I were writing a thesis or paper, this title would be either laughably broad or irritatingly coy.  Thankfully, this title does not belong to a thesis, and I can throw terms like "Life" around without being razzed by academics.  However, a discussion of this sort must have some method of defining its parameters; thus, I will define "Life," for the purposes of this post, as both the universal, physical state (i.e., a tree is alive) and the particular way in which human beings use it in a cultural and interpersonal catch-all (my life is great/horrible.)  So let us consider the question: what does it take to be "alive"? 

The physical state of "life" is undoubtedly defined and debated by scientists, theologians, and naturalists in myriad ways which they will cheerfully argue about.  To me, it's a question that has a simple answer.  The answer, however, simply gives rise to countless more questions, which are beyond the scope of anything I can hope to address.  To me, "Life" is a state of being in which one possesses something that can be taken away without the erasure of the form.  Let us take two examples: a stone and a fern.  A stone, when cracked into many pieces, simply becomes many stones; the stone does not "die," it simply divides into separate and unique objects.  However, a fern is different in some way.  Were a fern ripped into many pieces, it would be "pieces of a fern;" not separate and unique ferns.  A stone does not cease to be a stone unless it is completely annihilated. I am sure there are many exceptions to this particular experience, but you get the idea. 

However, the cultural "life" is entirely different, and cannot be quite so succinctly defined (despite flaws).  A "Life," when used in the general human conversation, can be the sum of experiences that a person has been through (he's had a good life) a current situation (my life sucks!) or even the experience of consciousness in the world (life is beautiful.)  What is interesting about all of these uses is that they involve free will; the sum of a person's experiences can also be expressed as the sum of a person's choices, current situations are always affected by our actions, and even the experience of consciousness in a shared world can be shaped by our response to the world at large.  How different might the "Life" of Martin Luther King Jr. or Gandhi or even Jesus or the Primordial Buddha been if they had made different choices?  And how might our lives have been different if they had not "lived" the way they had?  Anyone reading this is indebted to their parents and grandparents and all of their ancestors for making the choices that they did that led to us being born!  We are the result of all the choices that have come before, and we control the future of the world by the choices we make every day. 

True, there are things that we cannot control; coincidence, accidents, even death.  But every day we are here, ALIVE, is another day to make our lives, others' lives, even the world, better.  To be alive in this sense, this intelligent, cultural sense, is to have an iota of say in the life of the world.  A gift of God, of Chance, of Fate, of whatever you wish to attribute it to, it is a gift.  May we use it well.

Daniel

Choices are the hinges of destiny.  

~Attributed to both Edwin Markham and Pythagoras

Death

It is something no-one can avoid, but nobody likes to think about.  The only time most of us think about death is in the immediate aftermath of someone's passing, and so many people are unprepared for it.  When confronted by death, as in the death of a loved one, many feel at a loss as to how to respond. 

How do humans deal with death?  There are many ways, probably as many as there are people.  Much of religion is focused on death, usually either what comes after it or how to transcend it.  Philosophy also weighs in on the subject of death.  There are plenty of stories about philosophers, both eastern and western, dealing with death (Zhuangzi and Aristotle come to mind.)

The first death I remember in my family was my Great-Grandmother, who died when I was in elementary school.  She was 88, and had lived a good, long life.  I don't remember what the cause was, but I remember the different reactions of my family members.  Her daughter, my grandmother, was quiet, eerily so for an effusive person like herself.  Some of my aunts and uncles felt angry, some sad, and some, like me, didn't know quite what to make of the whole thing.  What happened to Great-Grandma?  Where did she go?  Is she happy?

These questions seem silly and childish, but they nevertheless form a large part of religious thought.  These are some of the few parts of the territory of religion that has not been explained by science.  It is possible that they may never be. 

I recently had a conversation with a friend who is a dedicated atheist, and one of the things we talked about was the realm of science and how it affected religion.  He believes that nothing is outside of the potential realm of science, and that religion is made up to fill the gaps in knowledge at the time.  This certainly has some merit; nobody really believes that there is a bearded god with a quiver full of lightning bolts responsible for thunderstorms.  The point where I disagree with him, and I invite any riposte to this statement, is that there are some things that are unknowable through science.

I think that death is one of those things.  Science doesn't help - it is logical, rational and powerful, but it is limited by things that can be observed or measured.  Death is not one of those things, unless you count "medically dead," which is based on heart and brain readouts.  What happens when people die?  Nobody really knows.  That's comforting to me.  I can think or feel whatever I want, and nobody can tell me I'm wrong.  Maybe Great-Grandma is in the nest of the giant robin-god, tending the baby robins. 

Death is nothing to us, since when we are, death has not come, and when death has come, we are not.
  - Epicurus

Expedients

In the Avatamsaka Sutra of Buddhist Scripture (viewable here), the Seventh Perfection of a Bodhisattva is stated:  

Being 'expedient` means being unattached. For example, once there was a child crawling toward a well which was flush with the ground. If the child had continued, it would have fallen into the well. The Buddha saw this, but he knew that if he had called the child back, it would not have listened, but would have continued to crawl forward. And so he made a fist with one hand, held it out, and called, 'Child, come back! I have candy in my hand for you! I have candy. Do you like candy?' When the child heard that there was candy, it turned around and came back. There was no candy in the Buddha's hand after all. But was the Buddha lying? No. That is an example of a an expedient method. He used his empty fist to save the child because there was no other method that would have worked at that point. The doors of expedients are countless. In general, whatever method will save a person is the dharma-door you should use.  

The idea that a teacher should use whatever method he/she believes will work seems unique in a religious context.  While the idea isn’t unique in the context of a secular educational system (e.g. visual vs. reading learner), most religions have a holy text (Bible, Torah, Koran) that is seen to be the final word on the religion, and one must be saved by that holy text.  This Buddhist idea of “expedient teachings” preaches a quite different method of salvation.
    One of my favorite movies is “The Peaceful Warrior,” about a college gymnast with Olympic aspirations.  He meets a man, whom he calls Socrates, who offers to “train him to become a real warrior - someone who uses his mind and his body in ways that most people would never have the courage to.”  There is a single “fight” scene in the movie, which consists of Socrates (also called “big Buddha” by another character) deflecting one of the main characters punches.  No martial arts are taught, no intense training is given.  The only thing Socrates does is show him what can be done, and tell him to sit on an old Plymouth until he has something worthwhile to tell him.  Socrates didn’t want him to become a “warrior,” or even a better gymnast: he wanted him to be able to live in the moment, to be able to carry water and chop wood.  The final scene of the movie is the main character doing a gymnastics routine, and Socrates’ voice asking him, “Where are you?  What time is it?  What is the most important thing?”  His answers are “Here.  Now.  This moment.”  We understand that he has achieved some form of enlightenment, even though that word was never used.  Socrates never mentioned Zen, or Buddhism, or enlightenment, or Dharma.  Why?  Because that would not have caused his pupil to become enlightened.  He used the “candy” of a warrior and a world-class gymnast to save him from the well.   
    Another “expedient teaching” in Buddhism is the idea of a Bodhisattva.  A bodhisattva is one who has achieved enlightenment and gained unlimited understanding, but stays on the earth to help others to the same level.  The problem is, these people technically don’t exist.  They exist only for people to strive for, a goal to be attained, a reason to seek enlightenment.  If a man can be saved by telling him that if he works hard enough at becoming enlightened, he will become one of these infinitely wise beings, then it is no falsehood to tell him that he can become so.  By becoming enlightened, he will surpass whatever the “bodhisattva” idea could offer him, but he could never have reached enlightenment except by the idea of a bodhisattva.  

Is it allowable to tell someone an untruth in this context to save them?  If yes, what happens if they do not reach enlightenment?  If no, do you simply shove the same texts at them over and over and hope that they get it?

Always tell the truth.  Even if you have to make it up.  ~Author Unknown

Buddhism, Part 2

I continue to be surprised by Buddhism's similarities and differences from my monotheistic background.  Morally, the ideas are nearly identical.  One of the central virtues of Buddhism is compassion, a value extolled in many passages of both the Old and New Testaments.  I am reminded of the parable of the good Samaritan and of God's compassion toward Jacob.  However, the reasons for the virtues are a bit different.

Here, a bit on Buddhist compassion from viewsonbuddhism.org:

An enthusiastic student asks his teacher: "Master, what can I do to help all the suffering beings in this world?" The teacher answers: "Indeed, what can you do?"

So, even if I am genuinely concerned about the welfare of others, when  I am hopelessly lost in my own problems, trying to deal with the world, how can I help others? I would be like jumping into a river where someone is drowning, when I cannot swim myself...
Therefore, I should first learn to swim myself, learn to deal with my problems, learn how to become liberated from my problems, or at best, become all-knowing or enlightened. The realization comes: "change the world, start with myself".
This idea is called Bodhicitta: the wish to become an omniscient Buddha so I can be of  perfect help for others. 

What I like about this belief is its root in others.  One improves oneself in order to help others, not in hope of some eternal reward.  At this point in my understanding, one main difference between Buddhism from the "big three" seems to be the potential of the human: at best, in the monotheistic tradition, one can find favor with God and end up in Heaven.  The Buddhist tradition believes in the possibility of humanity ascending to the level of omniscience, in the hope "so I can be of perfect help for others."  The only way to attain absolute knowledge is to not want it for oneself.  It's like the problem of the Mirror of Erised in the first Harry Potter: only one who wants to find the stone, not use it, can gain the power of the Sorcerer's Stone.

I will begin, with this post, a practice of posting a quote for thought as the sign-off.  As the discussion was on Buddhism, I thought a quote from the Historical Buddha would be appropriate:

-I do not believe in a fate that falls on men however they act; but I do believe in a fate that falls on them unless they act.

Buddhism

I have recently been learning about the religion of Buddhism in more detail than I have before, and I am fascinated by it.  Some of my notes on the subject, in particular about the Four Noble Truths:
1.  Existence is suffering (also known as Life Is Pain)
2.  All suffering is the result of attachments
3.  Suffering can be stopped through the cessation of attachments
4.  The way to stop attachments is the Eightfold Path to Enlightenment

Now, these truths are not too terribly different from a boiled-down version of Christianity:
1.  Life is pain
2.  Pain is the result of relying on earthly things
3.  Rely on God to stop pain

There are several interesting similarities and differences:
1.  Buddhism relys on the will of the individual and recognizes free will, as opposed to relying on God
2.  Both the Eightfold Path to Enlightment and the proscriptions of the Torah, Bible, and Koran preach compassion as a way to understand or emulate the divine
3.  Buddhism recognizes a "spark of the divine" in all conscious creatures, which can be nourished into enlightenment, while a "Holy Spirit" appears in the "big three" monotheistic religions, which accomplishes much the same thing.  (An interesting thought: was Pentecost the disciples becoming enlightened?)
4.  Buddhism preaches rebirth, or "Transmigration", through which people can go through life as many times as they need to achieve enlightenment, while in monotheistic religions, all one has is a single lifetime.

More on this as I think about it...

The beginning

Greetings to all readers, wanderers, scholars, wonderers, ponderers, and boredom-saters.  This blog, which I have no doubt will exist only as the vehicle for my meager reflections on the works of giants, is the result of my attempt to make sense of the world around me.  A bit of background on me: I grew up a Christian, but it was always stressed to me that I should respect all beliefs, and my parents' response to most of my questions about philosophy or religion was "go read about it."  I am immensely grateful to them for that.  I have come to view Islam, Christianity, and Judaism as three brothers who occaisonally fight but who still have the same parent.  My knowledge about Buddhism, Daoism, and Hindu is scant, but I am always impressed by whatever I read from those religions, and I want to learn as much as I can.  I know little pure philosophy from either Eastern or Western schools, only what I have been assigned to read in school, but I plan on changing that as soon as possible.  I welcome any and all suggestions of works to read or learn about; I feel one should never refuse knowledge, understanding, or perspective.  I welcome comments, because in discussion are sown the seeds of understanding.  Please remember, though, that any comments must be respectful of all beliefs.  No anti-Semite, anti-Muslim, anti-Christian, or anti-anything else will be tolerated.  I hope everyone will adhere to these requests, so all involved will have the chance to learn what they wish.  With the ground rules out of the way, let the rumination begin!