Practice: What is Amida

Good evening, everybody. Welcome. Earlier, when it seemed like it was going to be very quiet, this evening, I was thinking about the sort of reasons. I say, oh well, it's a nice evening, so everyone's outside rather than coming to practice. But of course, when it rains, I say, oh, it's a rainy evening, so nobody wants to come to practice. We never know what the reasons are. Anyway, hopefully Chris is going to read a Dharma glimpse for us this evening. Chris is nodding, which It's a good sign, so I'll turn the volume up. Yeah, thank you, Chris. Over to you.

Thank you, Casper. I visited my parents the other day. It's not something I do as much as I should, but it was a lovely sunny day and I happened to be nearby, so I decided to drop in and say hello. My parents' resting place is a secluded corner behind the shelter of a tall hedge. I spend a while clearing the weeds and grass from around the headstone which marks the dates of their passing. It's over 12 years since Dad passed away and nearly 24 since Mom died. I still miss them very much and sit in fond remembrance, enjoying the warm sunshine and peaceful atmosphere. I decide to walk the long way through the cemetery, a route I had not walked for a while. This takes me through the old part of the site where weeds thrive on ancient graves and crumbling stone monuments have been laid flat by the council to make sure they're not a hazard to passers-by. One of the few headstones still standing here catches my attention. It's a memorial to a young woman who died in 1923, aged only 22 years, and named Mary. The inscription tells me she was the only child of John and Margaret. As I read the inscription, the words 'beloved' and 'always in our hearts' seem to leap out at me, and I feel a sudden rush of emotion. To my surprise and consternation, I find that there are tears in my eyes. What is it that has so affected me? It is 100 years since this young woman died. Her parents will have passed away a long time ago, and she had no siblings to provide offspring and remember her. It's clear from the state of the plot, and sadly this one is no different from the ones surrounding it, that there is no one left to care for her grave. No one comes to lay flowers and shed tears. No one remembers. No one cares. For a moment, I'm filled with sorrow, not just for the unknown Mary, but for myself and my parents. I know that when my brother and I are gone, There'll be no one to visit Mum and Dad and tend their resting place. In time, this too will be my fate. There'll be no one left who remembers me. I turn away from Mary's grave, feeling as if there is a black cloud hanging over me. Why did I have to come this way and be faced with the bleak inevitability of death? And the cruelty of time's passing. As I rejoin the path, a blackbird in the tree above suddenly bursts into song. It's almost as if it sees how sad I am and wants to lift my spirits. I stand and watch it for a moment, and I imagine that this bird contains the spirit of the young dead girl In that moment, I'm struck by the thought that nothing really dies. We are all made of stardust, and we continue to live on in other ways, even when our human bodies die and decay. Yes, impermanence is everywhere and in everything, but so is continuance. We go back to the earth and the earth accepts us and regenerates. I leave the cemetery with a lightness of step. The next time I visit, as well as putting flowers on my parents' grave, I'm going to leave a token at Mary's. I will honor her memory just as the earth does.

Namaste. Thank you very much. So now meditation, not an attempt to quiet the mind, but an opportunity to notice how it is. Here's a thought about this, there's a feeling about that. Stepping back into the role of observer, noticing what's here with kindness. Amon ami tov. Amon ami tov. Namaste. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Chinese Nembutsu, or Nianfo as it's called in China. That chant is very common in Chinese Buddhist temples where it is sung in a bright and breezy way and light and at pace, trippingly off the tongue, as Shakespeare might have said. In the old days, pre-pandemic, when we used to sing it, it was often sung in a very slow and serious way, which is also an important energy in spiritual practice— slow and serious. But I quite like the bright and breezy version. As well. So we're going to recite the refuges and precepts as we— almost as we usually do. We are trying a new, slightly different version of the Five Precepts tonight, which is written on the literature sheet if you want to follow along, but it will be repeat after me as it usually is. In this version, we're being invited to become aware of when we break the precepts as foolish beings of wayward passion. It's a sort of more Pure Land take rather than the discipline approach of some other schools of Buddhism. And we, um, we can break the precepts in gross and subtle ways. As I said a few weeks ago, most of us aren't killing people, but we might kill enthusiasm, or bugs in the garden, or we might waste time. Maybe that's a form of killing, I don't know. Anyway, so we'll try these out this evening, but we'll begin as usual with the refuges. 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 Buddha.

Namo Buddha.

For refuge I go to the Dharma.

For refuge I go to the Dharma.

All that guides us to wisdom and compassion.

All that guides us to wisdom and compassion.

Namo Dhamma. For refuge I go to the Sangha. Those who live in the Buddha's light. Namo Sangha. With faith in the Three Jewels, I pray that I may become aware of when I take life. I pray that I may become aware of when I take what is not freely given .

I pray so many come away from—

to say 'what has not truly been.' 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 of when I fall into wrong speech.

I pray that I may become aware of when I become intoxicated.

I pray that I may become aware 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 the Vedic traditions, we vow to transform them all. Immeasurable are the Dharma teachings, We vow to master them all. Infinite Bodhisattva. We vow to fulfill it completely. Today I was reading the biography of Reverend Gyomei Kubose, who— Japanese American Buddhist priest who founded an independent Buddhist church, as it was called, that went on to become the Bright Dawn Institute for Oneness that Satya Robyn and I are coming to the end of our training period.

With.

And, um, the priest at the temple that Gyomei Kibose attended as a teenager and a young man was thrown out of the temple because rather than toeing the party line, he'd become a disciple of Akagassaru Sensei. And the party line is very familiar to us, and it's one that I put a lot of stock in. We're foolish beings. Amida Buddha, this outside force, lifts us up and takes us into the Pure Land by the other power at the point of death. Akagassaru, who was a disciple of Kyoza Manji's, was very much of the view that we should be paying attention to this life and how the Pure Land manifests in this lifetime, and also had quite a non-dual take on it. Not that the Buddha is outside, but the Buddha is inside. Or perhaps even not that the Buddha is outside or inside, but both of those things. And this is quite seen as quite a disruptive take. So this, uh, this priest got thrown out of the temple. And anyway, Kurosawa stuck by this priest. And Akagassara came over to the States and they met. And at one time they hosted an event, like a conference sort of thing, at a local town hall. And the posters for this event were smeared with dog shit by the other Pure Land Buddhists who took such a strong doctrinal position they couldn't bear to see non-duality Buddhism making its way into, yeah, into that community. But I, I think it's an equally valid position and one that I'm really interested in personally. Kibo, Kibo, Kibo used to say, Amida is life itself. He shied away from encouraging people to bow to Amida images. Amida is life itself. You might, if you read the essay I sent around months ago by Nabuo Haneda on what is Amida, you will feel some similarities. And Reverend Haneda, also a disciple of Akigusarin, Amida is life itself. This is an invitation to an intimate experience of the present moment, which includes eternity, and of the present space we find ourselves in, which includes the whole universe. It's an invitation to experiment with the idea that this unfolding is the Buddha speaking to us, and that it's not me sitting here and everything else is the Buddha speaking to me, but I am also the Buddha speaking in this moment, as the ground is, as the sky is. And throughout history, people have had very profound spiritual experiences that they describe in that kind of a way. Oneness— the name of their center, the Bright Dawn Center for Oneness, was chosen because it reflects that kind of spiritual experience where separation dissolves. And it is— it's like almost like a step beyond interconnectedness. And this can take us in some challenging areas, like the destruction of the dam in Ukraine. Which has been described as an ecocide. Can this be the Buddha speaking to us? This teaching invites us to grapple with this kind of koan, and in a way like a koan. It isn't something that can quite be resolved intellectually. It's pointing to a way of existing in the world. I think there's something really important in this, although it's difficult to speak about in a clear way. If you've kind of read any of the, the sort of first wave of American Japanese American Zen teachers like Suzuki Roshi and Katsugiri Roshi, this will all sound very familiar as well. But I also think it's important not to take an exclusive position on these things. And for me, you know, I think in the old days I tried to work out, well, which of these is the correct view? There's a lot in early Buddhism about the importance of having the correct view. Is the metta out there? Is it in here? Is it both of those things? Is it none of those things? And these days I tend to try and hold them all lightly, like, oh, these are all way different ways of experiencing Amitābha. They're all meaningful, that they're both meaningful. The experience of us as separate is meaningful. The experience of us as one is meaningful. One of these things does not exclude the other. So that's my invitation for you this evening. Can, can you find your own way with this koan, Amida? Is life itself. Namami Tepe. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.

With gratitude, we offer this incense to all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas throughout space and time. Let it be fragrant as Earth herself, reflecting our careful efforts, our wholehearted awareness, and the fruits of understanding slowly ripening. May we and all beings be companions to Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. May we awaken from forgetfulness and realize our true nature.

So as Fee reminded us, it's the anniversary of the Grenfell disaster, so we'll take a moment to remember those victims and their families and to transfer merit. Just a reminder, on Saturday morning after practice, we're doing some maintenance both in the garden and in the house. Opportunities available, so you're very welcome. May encourage to join us. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo. Blessed by Amitābha's light, may we care for all living things and the holy earth. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo.