I also teach a class on Death and Dying, and I firmly believe the teachings of Buddhism establishes an Art for Sacred dying, something that in Western civilizations is lacking. I was and still am a certified funeral director in the state of Colorado.I also volunteer at a local Hospice where I have seen first hand the problems faced by the dying without hope or direction. Now, I am living the practice daily and moment by moment. Pure Land has given me something each day to live by and for.

Namu Amida Butsu!

B.E., California  (return to member listing)

I can still vividly recall the despair and emptiness I felt when, as a fourteen year old, I lost my Christian faith. Walking home one summer afternoon, my thoughts filled with theological questions and doubts that had already haunted me for some time, I came to the realization that I could not force myself to believe in something – however familiar or existentially comforting. It occurred to me that I either sincerely believed in my family’s Congregationalist faith or I did not: I needed to be honest with myself. I left the city park that afternoon a believer and returned home an agnostic. The loss of my childhood religious convictions greatly disturbed me, and I went back to my room demoralized and filled with angst. Now so much about the world and my place in it seemed uncertain and life seemed undermined by meaninglessness. My family members, although generally sympathetic to my questions and anxieties, were reticent to provide their own answers and encouraged me to continue investigating. Looking back, I believe that this poignant experience initiated for me a philosophical search for truth, which ultimately led me to the Name-that-calls and the Shin Buddhist faith.

In college, I attempted to meet this need by majoring in philosophy. Unconsciously, I must have believed that I could tackle the problem cognitively. I hoped at the time that philosophy could help me discover authentic answers and fill (or at least neutralize) the sense of lack I felt chronically. I read the major philosophers of the Western tradition ravenously – Plato, Descartes, Hume, Kant, Wittgenstein, Whitehead, the existentialists. I found many of their ideas interesting and arguments persuasive in regard to certain problems and issues.  However, even after obtaining a Masters degree in philosophy, I was painfully aware that the deep spiritual hunger which had originally motivated my philosophical search remained unfulfilled; if anything, my philosophical training merely clarified how apparently bottomless and insatiable that hunger really was! As I review that period in my life now, it seems to me that philosophy does indeed offer some excellent resources for elucidating concepts and evaluating arguments, but it does not (at least for me) adequately serve as a spiritual practice by itself. Philosophy can be a helpful addendum to religious faith but by no means a substitute for it.

For several years following, I put my religious questions and yearnings aside, resigned myself to a quiet agnosticism and secularism, and focused my attention and energy on more practical career pursuits. I enrolled in a clinical psychology program of which I am now in my final stint, working on my dissertation. When I turned thirty, I began to experience a greater sense of professional direction, stability, and confidence; many things in my life felt considerably more settled. During this period of relative calm, the religious concerns of my earlier years began to resurface and to reassert themselves, albeit in a different form. Rather than asking abstract questions about philosophical theology and the nature of ultimate reality, as I had done previously, I now felt more inclined to consider matters of faith in a more personal or relational light. I began inquiring into my own relationships to the world and to others. How did I relate to the world around me? What had I contributed to it?  What had I contributed to others? What sorts of things did I really value and appreciate? In these uncertain and turbulent times, what makes for a worthwhile life?

With these questions in mind, I ventured into the Buddhist section of a local bookstore one evening. There I chanced upon Taitetsu Unno’s "River of Fire , River of Water" – an introduction to the Shin Buddhist Pure Land tradition. The title and commentary on the back cover intrigued me, and so I bought it, though I had never heard of Shin Buddhism or the Pure Land tradition before. This turned out to be a very worthwhile purchase. I found myself interested, even inspired by much of what Professor Unno had to say about his faith. I sought out other Jodo Shinshu literature, such as the "Tannisho" as well as the Sukhavativyuha sutras and read them with delight. The "Tannisho" and Pure Land sutras struck a deep chord inside me.  I was moved by their undeviating emphasis on Amida’s undiscriminating, genuinely limitless grace and liberatory power, reflecting a compassion so profound and encompassing that it would not willingly relinquish any creature, not even the most depraved, to suffer in the hells of its passions and delusions.   The Soto Zen teacher Shunryu Suzuki speaks of the experience of receiving “letters from emptiness” – figurative messages from the heart of being that open our eyes to its luminous grandeur and compassion – and the aforementioned writings served as precisely that for me. One afternoon shortly thereafter, while riding on a subway train, I uttered the Nembetsu spontaneously and without thinking. It felt as though it came out of me on its own, and it transfigured my perception of the entire scene around me. I felt deeply grateful and peaceful. I experienced in that moment a living relationship to the Other Power and discerned the folly of my prior, wholly self-directed attempts to obtain spiritual fulfillment.

As someone quite new to Shin Buddhism, I recognize that I have much to learn about our faith, and I look forward to connecting and corresponding with others who also want to deepen their understanding and appreciation of the Primal Vow and Amida’s grace. I feel great thankfulness and pleasure now to be a part of the Honpa Hongwanji Hawaii Betsuin cybersangha!

Namu Amida Butsu!
 

K.L.P., Florida (return to member listing)

D.M.

In response to the question what brought me to Shin Buddhism You may recall I've dabbled in Buddhism in high school, then quite a few other religions including Islam and Catholicism. Finally after taking a trip to Japan with my wife (who's Japanese), I re-awoke to Buddhism, and ultimately Shin Buddhism.

As to how that all happened, I will try to explain. When I was in Japan, I was still interested in Catholicism and Islam. Buddhism was kind of dry at times and hard to understand. I was continuously frustrated by the  "New Age" feel of Buddhism in the West. When I was in Japan, I saw many times examples of Buddhism that were totally different than what I knew in the US. I remember when my wife and I went to pay respects to her grandma who had passed away a few years back, I saw a cluster of gravestones in one part of the cemetery that were set apart. My wife explained that those people had no family to care for  their graves, so anyone could pour water over them, or clean them.

In another example, I remember visiting a famous Shinto/Buddhist shrine near my father-in-law's house and there I had a good talk with the curator there. What struck me again was this sense of deep compassion beyond  annoying dogma. I always liked Islam for it's strong faith, but I found it too legalistic, to the point that people would easily get caught up in the word of the law, not the spirit. Catholicism had a strong streak of compassion like Buddhism, but it also had a strong guilt streak that made me uncomfortable. In Japan I saw examples of true compassion in Buddhism  there, without the legalism or guilt, and realized that Buddhism was for me.

The problem was when I got back to the US, I had no idea how to practice Buddhism. Being a tech-saavy guy, I hung out on Internet forums, but I found most Buddhists to be arrogant or weird in a New-Agey kind of way. The only Buddhist temples in my area were all Tibetan ones, and I just  don't like Tibetan Buddhism and it's authoritarian nature (and all the New Age types that hang out there) It was more of the same that made me lose interest in Buddhism before.However,

 I ran into one Buddhist forum for Pure Land Buddhists, and people here were different. They were more humble, and didn't take themselves  too seriously. Later, I found the website http://www.jodo.org (which is the Jodo Shu official website), and was immediately hooked. They have a cool animation on how the nembutsu sounds, and I was inspired to start  reciting the nembutsu.  That's about it.

I think what drew me to Shin Buddhism is that I wanted to incorporate religion into my life, not incorporate my life into religion. In the case of Islam, I would have to give up pork and alcohol, memorize Arabic verses of the Q'uran and pray 5 times a day. I failed on all counts. In the case of Catholicism, I just didn't believe in Creation,  in the Pope, and in the whole idea of Sin as grounds for eternal damnation. For Zen Buddhism, I would have to meditate alot, even though I have no patience for it. For Tibetan Buddhism, I would have to revere adn  respect the religious authority of some lama for no other reason than some vague lineage I don't understand.

With other religions and Buddhist schools, I had to live up to a certain standard, and just couldn't be myself. With Shin, I just stopped striving to be something else, and just learned to be myself and just recite the nembutsu. That was a big relief. I hope that makes sense.