Ten years in Burma

by Julius Smith

From this statement of the Buddhist school system of the Burmese, and to its power as a religious agency, the reader, as does the missionary, will see the imperative need of Christian schools to take the place of the Buddhist schools. Their efficiency as a missionary agency can not be over-estimated. Each of the large missions now operating in Burma has adopted this strategic agency with very encouraging results. Many Buddhists do not hesitate to send their boys to a mission school if it is equipped to do superior work. Here, then, is Christianity’s greatest opportunity among the young. That mission will show greatest wisdom which gives Christian schools of the higher grades special attention.

There are doctrines of Buddhism, aside from the moral precepts or regulations for the conduct or belief of its adherents, which may be, all unconsciously to the Buddhist, of great attraction. Buddhism, as has been noted, like most other Eastern philosophies, teaches that men pass through many births through countless ages, and transmigration through men, animals, and spirits. This transmigration may be endless, and will be, if the individual does not attain to Nirvana. Now, while a man’s place in the scale of being is determined by the conduct of the life that now is, there is nothing final in this life as affecting destiny. If he sinks in the scale of being, he can rise in the same by his conduct in another existence. The time taken to make his recovery from the consequences of his demerits in this life may be ages; still he can retain all that he has lost by a bad life here. It therefore comports with men’s wish that they can commit acts not wholly agreeable to the known or believed rules of conduct, and yet they believe they can escape after a long time the consequences of such trifling with their moral code. It is a pleasant belief of human nature, wishing to indulge in that which is forbidden, to sacrifice some future blessedness for a present gratification, if at the same time the man can believe that the loss may at some future time be recovered. To a temporizing conscience this is a very comforting doctrine.

Buddhism teaches that character and states of existence are determined finally by a man’s unaided efforts. Human nature in all lands takes kindly to such teaching. If men could purchase salvation at a price in payment or sacrifice of even life itself, there would be many applicants for eternal life, who will not receive it as a gift. Buddhism is very complimentary to self-conceit when it teaches that we need no God to enlighten us, no Savior to save us, but that we can recover ourselves. That only our own acts can affect our scale of being and ultimately determine our destiny, in every varying merit or demerit, is believed. Building and gilding a pagoda lays up a great store of merit, and to engage in meditation is the most meritorious work of all. Their whole system of the merit of works breeds inordinate conceit, and hence is a very pleasant doctrine to men. To save themselves, and not to be saved by the vicarious sacrifice of another, is pleasing to pride. I think all agree that this belief in self-acquired merit is one of the strongest bulwarks of Buddhism.

The student of religion who looks for its effect on the people, is at first perplexed at a singular paradox among the Burmese Buddhists. He finds a religion that frowns upon the innocent joys of life, and much more upon all spectacular demonstrations. It especially discourages theatricals and feasting. The natural effect of such a religion would be to depress the spirit and overshadow the life. It would pluck up all gayety from a people. But we find the Burmese Buddhists the gayest and most light-hearted race of the Orient. Their religion to the contrary, they have more music, dancing, and theatricals than any other people. And in all this they regard themselves as the most consistent Buddhists. They even connect a festival with almost every special religious duty. It therefore comes to pass that they harmonize festal joys with the utter prohibition of them by their religion, and count the practice and the “law” that interdicts it equally “good.” By observing this fact, it is clear that the drastic prohibitions of Buddhism have no place at all in life practice. If, therefore, this contradiction of Buddhism does not add to its strength, it at least allows the adherent to accept and reject such portions of the Buddhist law as may be convenient, and as suits his fun-loving and easy-going disposition. In this way the Burman comforts himself with the belief that he is a devout Buddhist, and at the same time escapes all the depressing effects on his nature that would result if he actually undertook to keep either the letter or spirit of the Buddhist law. So it appears this paradox is explained.

Funeral Pyre of a Burmese Priest

Examples of their ability to turn any circumstance into a festival is seen at their funerals. When an ordinary man dies the friends gather and bring food, and keep up a several days’ feasting. On the day of the funeral long lines of oxcarts are drawn up, each with some offering for the poungyis, or priests. These gifts to the priests seem to be about the only religious part of the ceremonies. Then with bands playing, and often dancers and buffoons performing at the head of the procession, they move away to the burial ground. On several occasions I saw half-drunken men carrying the coffin on a tall, loosely-constructed framework, dancing with all their might under their burden. Sometimes it seemed the coffin would fall to the ground.

I have seen the burial of a Buddhist nun where the procession contained sixty-one stands of presents, one for each year of the nun’s life, carried in front of the corpse. These presents were intended for the priests, and they enabled the donors to gain merit, make a show, and enjoy a festival all in one. The presents were of plates, towels, and carpets, amounting to about ten dollars a stand, or over six hundred dollars in value in all. The poungyis often preach against the festivals, but I have never heard that they ever refused to receive the presents, an indispensable feature of the display.

There are great festivals gotten up at the burning of a priest who has been much venerated. He may have enjoyed a reputation for great learning, and perhaps lived to a good old age. The body is kept, if the priest should die in the rainy season, until the dry weather brings a time suitable for camping in the fields. Arrangements having been completed, a place, usually a cleared rice field, is selected, and booths are constructed to accommodate the gathering people. Material is procured, and a very large skeleton framework of dry poles is constructed in imitation of the seven-fold roof of a monastery. This framework is covered over with matting and paper, on which is much ornament, usually of a pictorial character. Great ropes are drawn high up into the framework, where it is designed the coffin shall be placed before the burning. A procession is formed to bring the body in great state, with all kinds of symbolical banners and imitations of the sacred elephant. The casket is placed on these great ropes, and skillfully drawn into the tower of the structure. When the body is once in its place, the younger men hastily take up burning spears, as fire brands, and hurl them into the combustible material, and in an instant all is aflame. Soon there is nothing but ashes. The camp is broken up, and the people return home. They have had a great festival lasting in preparation over many days, and have performed a pious work of merit. They have violated much of Buddhist teaching; but by their spectacular festival they have helped to perpetuate Buddhism in the community. I witnessed preparation for one such burning near Rangoon. The firing of the pyre occurred on Sunday, amidst a great throng of all the nations represented in Burma. The full account was given in the daily papers, and it is said that thirty thousand dollars was spent in cremating the one body, that of a noted monk. Recent word from Mandalay tells of the cremation of the body of the chief bishop of Buddhism in Burma. It is said twenty thousand people were present at this festival. Yet the bishop had always preached that all festivity was wrong, and the whole Buddhist people declared the “law” was good.

The same contradictions are apparent in their theological teaching. One instance will suffice as an illustration. Fish is a common and much appreciated article of food in Burma, and has been for centuries. The people have come to regard fish as necessary to their food as rice. This creates a great demand for fish, and consequently calls for a multitude of fishermen. But by Buddhist teaching the fishermen, or the hunter, is doomed to the deepest hell for taking life. They teach that there are four great hells, one below another, and the fisherman is doomed to go to the bottom of the lowest hell, and can not get out till he spends fifty million years in each of the four hells. And only after that could he hope to be born a man again on earth. Meantime the well-fed Burman who fattens on the fish, who made the fisherman necessary, thinks he not only has no responsibility for the other’s sin, but is making good headway toward Nirvana! The fisherman, when interviewed, is quite at ease. Question him of the sin of taking the life of the fish, and he will confidently tell you: “I do not kill the fish. I only drag it out of the water, and the hot sun kills it.” Both declare themselves good Buddhists, and that “the Buddhist law is good.” It leaves liberty enough for any number of specious pleas to avoid personal responsibility for violating the Buddhist prohibitions, while the votaries of Buddhism are still pretending to keep the “law.”