Outlines of Mahayana Buddhism

by Daisetz Teitaro Suzuki

When this discrimination is not observed, prejudice will at once assert itself, inducing them to imagine that the religion in which they were brought up with all its truths and superstitions is the only orthodox religion in the world, and all the other religions are nothing else than heathenism, idolatry, atheism, apostasy, and the like. This attitude of such religionists, however, serves only to betray their own narrowness of mind and dimness of spiritual insight. No one who desires to penetrate into the innermost recesses of the human heart and who longs to feel the fullest meaning of life, should foster in himself in the least degree a disposition of bigotry.

The Mystery.

Religion is the inmost voice of the human heart that under the yoke of a seemingly finite existence groans and travails in pain. Mankind, from their first appearance on earth, have never been satisfied with the finiteness and impermanency of life. They have always been yearning after something that will liberate them from the slavery of this mortal coil, or from the cursed bondage of metempsychosis, as Hindu thinkers express it. This something, however, on account of its transcending all the principles of separation and individuation, which characterise the phenomena of this mundane existence, has always remained as something indefinite, inadequate, chaotic, and full of mystery. And, according to different degrees of intellectual development in different ages and nations, people have endeavored to invest this mysterious something with all sorts of human feelings and intelligence. Most of modern scientists are now content with the hypothesis that the mystery is unfathomable by the human mind, which is conditioned by the law of relativity, and that our business here, moral as well as intellectual, can be executed without troubling ourselves with this ever-haunting problem of mystery;—this doctrine is called agnosticism.

But this hypothesis can in no wise be considered the final sentence passed on the mystery. From the scientific point of view, the maxim of agnosticism is excellent, as science does not pretend to venture into the realm of non-relativity. Dissatisfaction, however, presents itself, when we attempt to silence by this hypothesis the last demand of the human heart.

Intellect and Imagination.

The human heart is not an intellectual crystal. When the intellect displays itself in its full glory, the heart still aches and struggles to get hold of something beyond. The intellect may sometimes declare that it has at last laid its hand on what is demanded by the heart. Time passes on, and the mystery is examined from the other points that escaped consideration before, and, to the great disappointment of the heart, the supposed solution is found to be wanting. The intellect is baffled. But the human heart never gets tired of its yearnings and demands a satisfaction ever more pressingly. Should they be considered a mere nightmare of imagination? Surely not, for herein lies the field where religion claims supreme authority, and its claim is perfectly right.

But religion cannot fabricate whatever it pleases; it must work in perfect accord with the intellect. As the essential nature of man does not consist solely in intellect, or will, or feeling, but in the coördination of these psychical elements, religion must guard herself against the unrestrained flight of imagination. Most of the superstitions fondly cherished by a pious heart are due to the disregard of the intellectual element in religion.

The imagination creates: the intellect discriminates. Creation without discrimination is wild: discrimination without creation is barren. Religion and science, when they do not work with mutual understanding, are sure to be one-sided. The soul makes an abnormal growth at one point, loses its balance, and is finally given up to a collapse of the entire system. Those pious religious enthusiasts who see a natural enemy in science and denounce it with all their energy, are, in my opinion, as purblind and distorted in their view, as those men of science who think that science alone must claim the whole field of soul-activities as well as those of nature. I am not in sympathy with either of them: for one is just as arrogant in its claim as the other. Without a careful examination of both sides of a shield, we are not competent to give a correct opinion upon it.

But the imagination is not the exclusive possession of religion, nor is discrimination or ratiocination the monopoly of science. They are reciprocal and complementary: one cannot do anything without the other. The difference between science and religion is not that between certitude and probability. The difference is rather in their respective fields of activity. Science is solely concerned with things conditional, relative, and finite. When it explains a given phenomenon by some fixed laws which are in turn nothing but a generalisation of particular facts, the task of science is done, and any further attempt to go beyond this, i.e., to make an inquiry into the whence, whither, and why of things, is beyond its realm. But the human soul does not remain satisfied here, it asks for the ultimate principle underlying all so-called scientific laws and hypotheses. Science is indifferent to the teleology of things: a mechanical explanation of them appeases its intellectual curiosity. But in religion teleology is of paramount importance, it is one of the most fundamental problems, and a system which does not give any definite conception on this point is no religion. Science, again, does not care if there is something beyond or outside its manifold laws and theories; but a religion which does not possess a God or anything corresponding to it, ceases to be so, for it fails to give consolation to the human heart.

The Contents of Faith vary.