Buddhism in the Modern World

by Kenneth J. Saunders

This Buddhist revival in Japan is well worthy of study. As in Ceylon and Burma nationalism has much to do with it. The Japanese have been reminded by Lafcadio Hearn and Fenollosa and by their own native scholars trained by Max Müller at Oxford, or in other Western universities, how great is the debt which they owe to Buddhism; "There is scarcely one interesting or beautiful thing produced in the country," wrote Lafcadio Hearn, "for which the nation is not in some sort indebted to Buddhism," and the Japanese, in whom gratitude is a strong motive, are saying, "Thank you." Moreover, in the present restless seeking after truth the nation is finding, in its old religions, things which it is refusing lightly to cast away, and in its resentment against some of the nations of Christendom, and its conviction that our Christianity does not go very deep, it reminds itself that after all Buddhism was a great international force which helped to establish peace for a thousand years in Asia.

The present revival manifests itself in many ways, not least in the new intellectual activity which has brought into existence Buddhist universities, chairs of religious education, and a very vigorous output of literature; and each of the great sects has some outstanding scholar trained in the scientific methods of Western scholarship, but proud to call himself a Buddhist. There are ample signs, too, of a quickened interest in social service, of movements for children and young people, such as the Y.M.B.A., which is now active in all Buddhist countries.

Old temples are being repaired and new ones built and there are said to be over a hundred thousand of these in Japan devoted to Buddhism alone. Amongst the more recent is one in Kyōto which cost nearly a million pounds sterling; for the transport of its massive timbers hundreds of thousands of women sacrificed their hair. It is interesting and amusing to see Buddhist priests in bowler hats and gorgeous robes directing the removal of some ancient shrine to a new site and to note the modern American methods of engineering employed. All this is symptomatic of a new Japan which is yet tenaciously loyal to its old past.

Another symptom is a vigorous attempt at moral reform about which the "Mahāyānist," a Buddhist periodical, said, "Whilst formerly the moral sickness was allowed to go on unchecked, now the coverings are cast aside and the disease laid bare which is the first thing to do if the patient is to be cured." One hears a good deal about misappropriation of temple funds, and moral laxity in matters of sex. It is not for a visitor to comment on these things. Personally I believe that Buddhism is really a power for good: and I am inclined to think that the beautiful courtesy and kindliness one meets everywhere largely spring from it, and are one of its many noble fruits. We in the West have made more of commercial honesty and less of courtesy and forbearance than Jesus was wont to do: and there is no more odious type than the self-righteous visitor from Western lands who comes to the East armed with a narrow and negative moral code and a critical spirit. Certainly Buddhism is teaching "morals" to its children, and in a thousand ways its influence is felt in that very attractive character so truly described by Lafcadio Hearn as peculiar to the Japanese, of which the essence is a genuine kindness of heart that is essentially Buddhist. Another proof that the chief sects are now filled with vigorous life is to be found in their missionary activities. The first Buddhist missionary from Japan to China was sent out by the eastern branch of the Hongwanji in 1876, a spiritual return for the early Chinese missions of twelve hundred years ago. Missions have also been established in Honolulu in 1897 and they are numerous on the Pacific Coast of North America. Home missionary work, too, is being attempted, owing largely to the influence of a layman; the Shin Shu priests are working in jails, seeking to arouse a sense of sin in the inmates; and in Tokio one may visit a training school where some sixty students are trained in charity organisation and lodging houses for the poor.

Christian Influence.

All this is very largely the outcome of Christian activities in Japan and it is very noteworthy that while the Christian Church is numerically small its leadership in liberal politics and in philanthropy is acknowledged all over the Empire and its pervasive influence upon the thought of modern Japan is obvious on all sides. St. Francis of Assisi and Tolstoy are perhaps the Christian leaders most admired by the Japanese. They belong to the same spiritual company as the great Sākyamuni, who, like them, embraced poverty and was filled with a tender love and a sane yet passionate enthusiasm of humanity. Japan is looking for a great spiritual and moral leader. Will he be a Buddhist like the great Nichiren who in the thirteenth century came like a strong sea-breeze to revive the soul of his people and preached a religion which was to be a moral guide in national affairs and in the daily life of his people? Or will he be a Christian leader who, counting all things as dung compared with the Gospel of Jesus, shall answer the cry of the Japanese patriot who believes that his people are hungry for truth? There is a wealth of liberalism in young Japan and there are idealists everywhere waiting to rally around a great religious leader. But he will need to know and understand her past and to launch his appeal to that wonderful patriotism which is the essence of the Japanese character.

Can Buddhism produce this moral leadership? Let us hear what a Japanese Christian of great learning and insight has to say. "To Buddhism Japan owes a great debt for certain elements of her faith which would scarcely have developed without its aid; but those germinal elements have taken on a form and colouring, a personal vitality not gained elsewhere. Important as are those elements of faith, they still lack the final necessary reality. Buddhism is incomplete in the god whom it presents as an object of worship. In place of the Supreme Being, spiritual and personal, Buddhism offers a reality of which nothing can be affirmed, or, at best, a Great Buddha among many. Buddhism is incomplete in the consciousness of sin which it awakens within the soul of man. Instead of the sense of having violated an eternal law of righteous love by personal antagonism, Buddhism deepens the consciousness of human misery by an unbreakable bond of suffering; and the salvation, therefore, which Buddhism offers is deliverance from misery, not from the power of personal sin. In its idea of self-sacrifice, Buddhism affords an element of faith much more nearly allied to that of the Christian believer. In both the offering of self is for the sake of the multitude, the world-brotherhood; but in the one pity, often acquiescent and helpless, predominates, whereas in the other loyalty to a divine ideal finds expression in the obligation to active service."

And yet let us note that Buddhism has undoubtedly nerved men of action, and inspired saints, and that its call to meditation and to quiet strength is one that our age needs to regard. Not far from the great Pietist temples of Hongwanji, I found a veritable haven of peace—the courtyard and simple buildings of a Zenshu sect.

How different from the Buddhism of the Amida sects is that of Zenshu! Seated in his exquisite retreat one may visit an abbot or teacher of this school. The orderliness and quiet of his temple courts, the stillness of his posture, the repose of his face—all alike tell one of spiritual calm. Perhaps one begins to ask him the secret of it. "Ah," he may say, "that is not easy. You should go and study one of the simpler sects." Then, if his questioner is persistent, he will suddenly present him with one of the Koans, or dark sayings which have come down for many centuries: "Listen," he will say, "to the sound of a single hand." Puzzled and disturbed the mind may refuse to deal with this enigma, or it may learn the great lesson which is intended to be learned, that intuition is a surer guide to truth than the discursive reason, or as we should say in our psychological jargon, the sub-conscious has gifts for us if we will give it a chance. The essence, in fact, of this sect is a quiet sense of the presence of eternal truths. The Buddha is not to be found in images or books, but in the heart or mind, and in scores of Buddhist monasteries I have found the spirit of Wordsworth with its serene sense of a pervasive presence,

"Whose dwelling is the light of setting suns."