Buddhism in the Modern World

by Kenneth J. Saunders

Let us turn again to the shrine. The great sun is going down and the pagoda, splendid in the sunset as it changes from gold to purple and from purple to gray, and then to silver as the glorious moon rises, is thronged with devout worshippers. The monk prostrates himself before the jewelled alabaster image of Buddha. He seems unaware of the people around him, who honour him as a being of a superior order; or, if conscious of them, it is with a sense of his own aloofness. "Sabbā Dukkhā" (all is sorrow) he is murmuring: "Sabbā Anattā" (all is without abiding entity). Mechanically the lay-folk repeat with him the words which have been for twenty-five centuries the Buddhist challenge to the world, calling it away from the lure of the senses and the ties of family and home.

Do the people really believe it? Let us look at this group of women before one of the many shrines on the spacious pagoda platform. Are they intent on giving up the world or on making the most of it? Are they persuaded that it is all sad and transient? Here kneels a young wife offering strands of her hair, and praying that her child may have hair as long and beautiful. Near by is an unhappy wife who prays that her husband may become as pure as the flower which she lays at the feet of the Buddha. Not far away is one very old and trembling woman who, after bowing to the impassive image and lighting her little candle before it, has turned back to pat a great old tree lest the nat, or spirit, which lives within, be offended. "The spirits are always malignant and have to be propitiated. The world-renowned one, is he not benign?" She must not risk offending this tree-spirit, in her desire to please the Buddha. "The Burman tries to keep both in mind and to serve them faithfully, for both may help to make this life pleasant; but he is most anxious concerning the demons. Whilst in every village in the country there is at least one pagoda and monastery, there is sure to be a spirit-shrine in every home, where the spirits are consulted and appeased before homes are built, marriages arranged, purchases made, or journeys undertaken." It is these things, after all, that make up life for most of us.

2. The Religious Values of Everyday Buddhism.

(a) What Buddhism means for Burmese Women.—It will be interesting to consider what Buddhism has to offer to such groups of women. Four sorts of appeal may be mentioned. In the first place Buddhism is a great social force, providing many festivals and giving much colour to everyday life. In theory it may be sad; in practice it is very cheerful. Even in Christian lands some women go to church to see the latest fashions; can we wonder that Burmese Buddhist women delight to gather on the platform of the beautiful pagoda for friendly intercourse and gossip? Again, they think of the order of monks as giving them the best chance to gain "merit." They recall that the Master taught that generous offerings to them are potent in bringing all kinds of benefits in this world, and even in helping the dead in the dim life of the underworld. The monks confer a favour by accepting alms; it is the donor who says "Thank you."

Another great source of enjoyment and instruction is the well-known Buddhist stories, told over and over again, often miraculous, always with a moral. They also reflect on the lives, which they know by heart, of certain great Bodhisattvas, or Buddhas in the making, "buds of the lotus," which later on burst into full bloom. One of the pictures in which they delight is that of Gotama[3] when he was a hare and jumped into the fire to feed a hungry Brahmin. Another picture more familiar and more poignant still, depicts his appearance as Prince Vessantara, giving away his wife and beloved children to a hunchback beggar. These stories exert an immense influence.

And finally, Buddhism influences Burmese women by appealing to their imagination and their love of mystery, with its solemn chanting, its myriad shrines, with their innumerable candles twinkling in the dusk, and the sexless sanctity of its monks. How wise and good they seem to be! Are they not custodians of the truth? Here one little woman is lifting a heavy stone weighing forty pounds; a monk has told her that if it seems heavy her prayer will surely be answered. To make assurance doubly sure, she may go and consult the soothsayer, whose little booth is near the shrine—a cheerful rogue, not without insight and a sense of humour—but she gives to the monk the supreme place, and pays him more generously!

A Burman acquaintance of mine, who was converted to Christianity, was asked by an old lady why he had deserted the "custom" of his people. "I am sick," he began, "of all this bowing down to the monks, and of all these offerings." "Stop, stop!" she cried, aghast. "You are destroying the whole religion of our nation!"

(b) What it means for Burmese Men.—Laymen in Burma are much like men elsewhere. Here is one who between prostrations before the image of Buddha keeps his long cheroot alive, and enjoys an occasional puff. He is like many men one meets, "making the best of both worlds." Yet to him too Buddhism makes a strong appeal, primarily because it is his heritage or, as he says, "the custom of Burma." The national feeling, which is alive in Burma as well as in all other parts of the East, resents Western influences, of which Christianity seems a part. Moreover, Buddhism strongly appeals to his habit of mind. He thinks he understands why there is inequality in human lot, why some are rich and some poor, some healthy and some diseased. He explains it as the working out of the law of Kamma.[4] Men suffer now because they have sinned in a former birth. Listen to this conversation: Old U Hpay is telling a neighbour about a foolish old sister of his who has adopted a calf, and is petting it because its voice is so like that of her dead husband! While the old men chuckle at this quaint expression of her faith, yet they do believe that this is the law of life. Should you kill a mosquito it may be your mother-in-law in a new body, and still going strong! But Buddhism puts forth its greatest appeal at those times when there comes over its votaries a wistful yearning for something which this world has not given them. At these quiet moments, especially in the evening of life, when they are no longer concerned with making money or with the raising of a family, the appeal of Nibbāna[5] and its peace comes home to many. They do not feel sure of reaching it, nor do they fully understand what it means. Some of their monkish teachers tell them it will be annihilation, while others describe it as the extinction of all passion or a great calm. In either way Nibbāna[5] has its lure, especially to the world-weary. I have even known a Christian missionary who was tempted to long for the quiet and relief from the staleness and hurry of life which annihilation would bring. But he was weary and needed a holiday! Missionaries often do.

(c) Buddhism and Children.—Playing around, while the old people talk or pray, are always some children. Here a fat, naked baby takes a puff at his grandfather's cigar; there a little girl, devoutly imitating what she sees her parents doing before the great image of Buddha, also lights her candle and offers her marigolds. The older children quickly begin to take their share in the religious life about them. In some of them is dawning a hero-worship of the great Buddha who has done so much for the world. This little girl thinks wistfully of her brother, so recently her playmate, but now a Buddhist novice, with shaven head and yellow robe, as remote from her and aloof as if he belonged to another world. Not much is taught to her and her girl-playmates: "they are only girls!" But she is learning by what she sees, and she too is becoming a staunch Buddhist. There are some stalwart champions of Buddhism amongst the children, and the girls grow up, less instructed but not less devout than the boys.

(d) The Attitude of Burmese Students.—Every mother desires that one of her sons shall take and keep the yellow robe, yet the younger among the educated Burmese are frank in calling the order of monks a "yellow peril," not because they are bad men, for public opinion in Burma rarely tolerates immorality in these religious leaders, but because there are so many of them, over seventy-five thousand in the whole country. To feed such a horde of mendicants is a costly business, and the rebuilding and gilding of a pagoda may mean that the inheritance of every one belonging to its village will be decimated. "The pagoda is built and the village ruined," they ruefully repeat. Thus there is growing up among those who are in the government schools in contact with the liberal thinking of the West a disposition to question the values of the present religious system. Possibly not more than ten per cent. of the students who have Western training can be called orthodox Buddhists. Thus the old people to whom Buddhism means so much are anxious, and the young are restive. Burma, like many other countries, is going through a period of transition, the outcome of which is uncertain. Yet undoubtedly it is still a strongly Buddhist country, and the masses of its people are not much affected by this spirit of scepticism. As, however, Western education is the key to preferment the official classes are apt to sit loose to much that their fathers held sacred. And some few are busy re-thinking their faith and seeking to adapt it to modern needs.