Discerning Religions: A suffering person
Buddhism continually resonates with me over Christianity. Christian writings continually reference God, a mysterious, powerful entity who always seems so removed from us. Doctrine tells us this distance is an illusion. As one mystic said, We are all shards of broken glass reflecting God together.
That's beautiful, but I still can't relate to an omnipotent, omnibeneveleant, omniscient being beyond the throes of time and space, beyond the reach of suffering and impermanence.
The Buddha, in some writings, can have some pronounced powers, too--like special X-ray eyes and a cast-iron stomach. But most discourses reveal him as he was: a man troubled by suffering.
Suffering and impermanence trouble me deeply. My uncle died Wednesday. He and I were not really close, as he lived in Colorado, but it really hit my dad. It's tough to see my dad making his mournful rounds through the holiday with this weighing him down. My other uncle had the same sad tone yesterday, as he sat alone watching television by the fire.
Every day I try to remember the Four Remembrances from Buddhism, including, "I will die. I know I will die. I cannot escape death." I also try to help my dad through his suffering. He buries it deep. A Buddhist would call this karuna, one of the four aspects of love. Whatever one calls it, it helps us through.
I'm also still attempting to overcome some sticky emotions. Today they had me troubled, so I just kept returning to a Buddhist meditation: "Aware of my negative emotions, I am more than my emotions." They passed eventually. Again, I took refuge in my training and it bore me through.
The more discourses I read, the more I see Buddhism as a training at heart, not a religion. The original Pali Cannon (The heart of Buddhism) does not deal with metaphysics, or gods, or creation--it only attempts to guide us through suffering.
The founder of Taize, a form of Christian religious music, said we all have broken hearts. Prayer heals them. We do have broken hearts. We are lonely and stuck with trials we can't understand, deaths we don't expect, and powerful emotions without recompense or release. But we often grit our teeth and ignore that deep-wrought hurt within. Or worse, we pain others by being careless, or selfish, or cruel.
Take away our labels. Take away our careers, our surroundings, our excuses. Strip us to our raw essence.
We are people deeply troubled by suffering. That is all.
And Christianity does not address that with the same value that I do.
That's beautiful, but I still can't relate to an omnipotent, omnibeneveleant, omniscient being beyond the throes of time and space, beyond the reach of suffering and impermanence.
The Buddha, in some writings, can have some pronounced powers, too--like special X-ray eyes and a cast-iron stomach. But most discourses reveal him as he was: a man troubled by suffering.
Suffering and impermanence trouble me deeply. My uncle died Wednesday. He and I were not really close, as he lived in Colorado, but it really hit my dad. It's tough to see my dad making his mournful rounds through the holiday with this weighing him down. My other uncle had the same sad tone yesterday, as he sat alone watching television by the fire.
Every day I try to remember the Four Remembrances from Buddhism, including, "I will die. I know I will die. I cannot escape death." I also try to help my dad through his suffering. He buries it deep. A Buddhist would call this karuna, one of the four aspects of love. Whatever one calls it, it helps us through.
I'm also still attempting to overcome some sticky emotions. Today they had me troubled, so I just kept returning to a Buddhist meditation: "Aware of my negative emotions, I am more than my emotions." They passed eventually. Again, I took refuge in my training and it bore me through.
The more discourses I read, the more I see Buddhism as a training at heart, not a religion. The original Pali Cannon (The heart of Buddhism) does not deal with metaphysics, or gods, or creation--it only attempts to guide us through suffering.
The founder of Taize, a form of Christian religious music, said we all have broken hearts. Prayer heals them. We do have broken hearts. We are lonely and stuck with trials we can't understand, deaths we don't expect, and powerful emotions without recompense or release. But we often grit our teeth and ignore that deep-wrought hurt within. Or worse, we pain others by being careless, or selfish, or cruel.
Take away our labels. Take away our careers, our surroundings, our excuses. Strip us to our raw essence.
We are people deeply troubled by suffering. That is all.
And Christianity does not address that with the same value that I do.