Evening Practice: Shinjin and Mary Oliver

Welcome everybody. Welcome to those joining online. Nice to see you all. I want to begin by reading a poem to you this evening. This is a Mary Oliver poem, who we all know and love, I think. And it reminded me when I found— when I, uh, read it this week, it reminded me of some of the conversations we've been having in our Monday night study group about how we experience Amida, what the Buddha is. Mary Oliver uses the word God, but she's very much someone who finds, as Manji said, like everything is illuminated with its own light. That's the world that she lives in when she connects to her spiritual practice, particularly the natural world. Anyway, you'll see. So this is called At the River Clarion. I don't know who God is exactly, but I'll tell you this: I was sitting in the river named Clarion on a water-splashed stone, and all afternoon I listened to the voices of the river talking. Whenever the water struck a stone, it had something to say, and the water itself, and even the mosses trailing under the water. And slowly, very slowly, It became clear to me what they were saying. Said the river, 'I am part of holiness.' 'And I too,' said the stone. 'And I too,' whispered the moss beneath the water. I'd been to the river before, a few times. Don't blame the river that nothing happened quickly. You don't hear such voices in an hour or a day. 'You don't hear them at all if selfhood has stuffed your ears, and it's difficult to hear anything anyway through all the traffic, the ambition. If God exists, he isn't just butter and good luck. He's also the tick that killed my wonderful dog Luke,' said the river. 'Imagine everything you can imagine, then keep on going.' Imagine how the lily, who may also be a part of God, would sing to you if it could sing, if you would pause to hear it. And how are you so certain anyway that it doesn't sing? If God exists, he isn't just churches and mathematics. He's the forest, he's the desert, he's the ice caps that are dying. He's the ghetto and the Museum of Fine Arts. He's Van Gogh and Allen Ginsberg and Robert Motherwell. He's the many desperate hands cleaning and preparing their weapons. He's every one of us potentially, the leaf of grass, the genius, the politician, the poet. And if this is true, isn't it something very important? 'Yes, it could be that I'm a tiny piece of God, and each of you too, or at least of his intention and his hope, which is a delight beyond measure. I don't know how you get to suspect such an idea.' I only know that the river kept singing. It wasn't a persuasion, it was all the river's own constant joy which was better by far than a lecture, which was comfortable, exciting, unforgettable. Of course, for each of us there is the daily life. Let us live it gesture by gesture. When we cut the ripe melon, should we not give it thanks? And should we not thank the knife also? We do not live in a simple world. There was someone I loved who grew old and ill. One by one, I watched the fires go out. There was nothing I could do except remember that we receive, then we give back. My dog Luke lies in a grave in the forest. She is given back. But the River Clarion still flows from wherever it comes from to wherever, to where it has been told to go. I pray for the desperate earth. I pray for the desperate world. I do the little each person can do. It isn't very much. Sometimes the river murmurs, sometimes it raves. Along its shores were, may I say, very intense Cardinal flowers and trees and birds that have wings to uphold them. For heaven's sakes, the lucky ones, they have such deep natures, they are so happily obedient, while I sit here in a house filled with books, ideas, doubts, hesitations. And still, pressed deep into my mind, the river keeps coming. Touching me, passing by on its long journey, its pale, infallible voice singing. So we go— as we go into meditation, just an invitation. There's no river, there's no literal river here in the shrine room, but We can listen to the world, and maybe we can hear the sound of the Buddha. We will chant Om Amidaewa Pri, a Tibetan form of the Nembutsu, which is also the sound of the Buddha, right? We chant it so we can hear the Buddha's voice. Om Amitewari.

Om Amitewari. Ahamami Deva.

Oh, Mami, te wa ri.

Oh, Mami, te wa ri. Om Ami Deva Sri. Om Ami Deva Sri. Om Ami Deva Sri. Omami de wa ri. Omami de wa ri. Omami de wa. Om Ami Deva Sri. Om Ami Deva Sri. Om Ami Deva Ama mithewa ri. Oh, mami, mithewa ri. Omami jeh wa. Omami jeh wa.

In a moment, we'll read the Statement of Faith together.

Satya Robyn.

I'm just going to put the link to the words in the chat if people at home want to read along.

Statement of faith.

The purpose of our practice is to open us to the wisdom and compassion of the Buddhas. Our heart practice is the Nembutsu, the recitation of Amida Buddha's name. We also connect with the Buddha's wisdom through practices like listening to teachings, meditation, and being in the natural world. We treasure Shakyamuni Buddha, who set the wheel of Dharma turning. We learn from Buddhist teachers throughout the ages, awakened beings everywhere, and the world itself. We especially revere the great Pure Land sages Honen and Shinran. Held in Amida's loving gaze, we come to know ourselves deeply, both our bamboo nature and our foolish Buddha nature. As bamboo beings, we grasp at unreliable refuges, and sometimes we cause harm. Knowing the harm we cause offers us the chance to lessen that harm. Seeing our fallible nature also strengthens our refuge in Amida Buddha. The more deeply we take refuge in Amida, the more our greed, ill will, and delusion will melt like ice into water, allowing our natural compassion to flow into the world. We trust that at the center of each of us is the heart that loves all living beings and that wishes for their liberation. We take action powered by this love in response to suffering in the world. We pay attention to the causes of suffering. We mitigate for power. We practice discerning what work is ours to do. We wish that all who may benefit are able to access the jewels of the Buddha's teachings. Moved by the Buddha's love, we vow to take care of all living beings, including ourselves. Held by the Buddha's love, we find clarity, consolation, and settled faith. Now we'll recite the refuges and precepts together. For refuge I go to the Buddha. For refuge I go to the Buddha. The one who is awake and full of love.

The one who is awake and full of love.

Namo Buddhaya. For refuge I go to the Dharma. All that guides us to wisdom and compassion. Namo Dharmaya. For refuge I go to the Sangha. Those who live in the Buddha's light. Those who live in the Buddha's light. Namo Sangha. Namo Sangha. For refuge I go to the Earth. For refuge I go to the Earth. The holy ground of awakening. The holy ground of awakening. Namo Bumi Ayi. Namo Bumi Ayi. With faith in the Four Refuges. With faith in the Four Refuges. And in light of my human tendencies— I pray that I may become aware when I take life—I pray that I may become aware —when I take what is not freely given I pray that I may become aware— of when I fall into sexual misconduct. I pray that I may become aware— of when I fall into wrong speech. I pray that I may become aware— I pray that I may become aware— of when I become intoxicated. Of when I become intoxicated. No blame. No blame. Be kind. Be kind. Love everything.

Love everything.

Innumerable sentient beings, we vow to save them all. Inexhaustible are deluded passions. We vow to transform them all.

Immeasurable are the Dharma teachings.

We vow to master them all.

Infinite is the Buddha's way.

We've had to forfeit completely.

I thought I might speak a little bit about shinjin this evening, which is a really important concept in Pure Land Buddhism, especially in the Pure Land Buddhism of Shinran. We don't talk about it loads here at Bright Earth, or we haven't done for a while anyway. When I first heard the term Shinjin many years ago, it was translated as awakening of faith, and it was described as the experience of becoming certain that you are going to be born in Amida's Pure Land. And it's sort of like that, that's sort of in the right area, but I think it's more subtle and more complex. One of the critiques that was around in Pure Land Buddhism at the time, um, was that, that it could be quite a divisive concept because people were like, well, have I had, have I had my shinjin? I don't think, therefore I'm not going to the Pure Land. And it be— it in some places it was becoming this sort of thing that completely undermined the spirit of the Nembutsu, right? Everybody who calls on the Buddha name is welcome to the Pure Land, but if you haven't had your shinjin experience, probably you're not going there, which isn't the spirit at all. You don't need to have had You don't need to know that you've had a shinjin experience to be confident that you're going to be welcomed into Amida's Pure Land, but it does speak to experience that practitioners have, and it is something to do with a blossoming of faith and confidence, a blossoming of confidence. But recently I've heard people really wanting us to understand that it's also a blossoming of wisdom. Amida's light is love, and wisdom is compassion, and wisdom Kantanika speaks about the importance of this in a few different places. Enrique mentioned it recently. Shinjin includes the experience of feeling the loving presence of the Buddha, but it also, because it's the Buddha's loving presence, must include some experience of wisdom. What might that feel like? Well, it, it might feel a little bit like the experience that Mary Oliver described by the river, where she notices the whole landscape has this holy presence. And in paying attention to that, when her ears aren't stuffed full of selfhood, which is a lovely line, I think, and very Buddhist, unknowingly very Buddhist, that the world includes the deep connection of all of these elements that she's describing— the trees, the birdsong, the kiwi and the knife that cuts the kiwi, and also impermanence, that her dog Luke dies, that the kiwi is sliced in half, the presence of change and of loss. This is like, that's like a central thing in Buddhism, right? Impermanence. And it's not just going, oh yeah, the sun was out earlier and it's not out now, like impermanence, I got it. It's a real heart experience of being with change, like paticāra who's grieving, noticing how the different— I think I used this, referred to this recently, but you know, she spills water and the earth is dry and it's sort of the rivulets are different lengths before they go into cracks in the earth. And she suddenly goes, oh, that's like life. It brings her some acceptance and some peace, like, oh, some lives are cut short, like the water falling over this kind of miniature cliff edge earlier than other water. Like, that's how it is to be in the world. So that kind of heart experience of impermanence, or of interconnection, or of the love of the Buddha— those are all We can say those are all experiences of shinjin, which is, you know, Shinran might say that's the Buddha, the Buddha's mind appearing in us. It's not something that we conjure up ourselves. It's a gift. It's grace. But with that experience, we can have the confidence that, oh, it brings us a sense of confidence. I'm going to the Pure Land. From the Pure Land, I'm going to be enlightened. You know, in Theravada Buddhism they talk about like stream entry, once-returner, arahat, Buddhahood, and no kind of scheme maps perfectly onto an actual person's lived life. But shinjin is— can be seen as the equivalent of Um, stream entry, the confidence I'm now on the path, like at some point I'm going to be guided, I'm going to be gifted complete enlightenment, I'll move into the Pure Land. I'll become a Buddha, I'll become a bodhisattva. Suzuki Roshi said there's no enlightened people, there's just enlightened moments. And you might say, like, even the moments can be, uh, can have different depths to them depending on how open our hearts are. And it's like that suggests that we lose those experiences somehow. We, we, um, we get caught up again in daily life, in bambu nature, but they remain in us somewhere, even if, even if they sort of go to the corner. About you rather than being in the center. Pure Land Buddhism is a little bit of a strange beast. In, in lots of other forms of Buddhism, there are techniques, there are tools. Meditate this way, meditate on the jhanas, meditate on the realm of forms or the formless realm, or Visualize a giant Buddha or a thousand-armed Avalokiteshvara. Do this ritual, do this practice. These things can bring you closer. In Pure Land Buddhism, the invitation is to say the name or to listen to the name. Trusting, like, it's all here right now in the present moment. Impermanence, interconnection, loving kindness, compassion. We just have to sort of— well, it's not even that we step into it, right? It's just that sometimes the scales fall from our eyes. So I, I don't think Shinjin should be like a measuring stick for any of us, but it is a description of something that happens on the spiritual path. And these stories, these descriptions, are helpful because they sort of tell us the kind of things to look out for. When our eyes are mostly scaled over, maybe we just happen to notice, oh, this experience is a bit like that. Somehow that can bring it more into focus sometimes. Oh, that's true for me anyway. It's helpful for me to hear about these things over and over again. So that's shinjin, the Buddha's mind appearing in your mind. Awakening of faith, awakening of wisdom, maybe just a taste of awakening. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. So we stand and make prostrations. As we prostrate, we chant Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. If you're joining us online, feel free to bow to a Buddha if you have a Buddha, or you can bow to the Buddha on the screen.

In gratitude, we let this offering to all Buddhas and bodhisattvas throughout space and time. May it be fragrant as the earth herself, reflecting our wholehearted awareness in the fruits of the Namsangha. So, like, may we in all beings be companions. May we awaken. Om.

A few announcements before we read the closing verse. This Saturday at 5 UK time, we've got the first in our Dharma Hour series, which is on Zoom, such as going to be presenting on beginner's mind. So I don't know, maybe talk to Satya Robyn, or maybe Facebook is the easiest way to get the details for that. It's on the WhatsApp as well, lots of places. Is it the following Saturday? Yeah, I think it's the following Saturday, the first Saturday in May. There's the talk on the Bodhisattva vows which is happening here in the Shrine Room at 10:45 and will be streamed on Zoom. And then on Sunday the 10th of May at 3 o'clock, we've got the Well Blessing at the Clock Tower, so come and join us for that as well. Oh yeah, there's meditation for peace. This is that— this is— that's this Saturday afternoon and the Saturday afternoon after that. And maybe even the one after that as well. Lots of sorts of things you can join in with. Namami Tobu. Satya Robyn, may you care for all living things on the earth. Namami Tobu. So I'm going to exit the shrine room and then I'll come back in and say hello to the