Stories of the Lotus Sutra - Chapter 5: A Burning House and Three Vehicles

[Maro]

Aye! Thus the admiration and respect for this "breaking open" by the myriad things and their skill !
Gassho
sat lah

[Tairin]

I haven't been doing a good job of participating in the reflections I'll work at getting better at that.

Some personal reflections from this chapter:



One of my central tenets when it comes to religion or spirituality, is that i believe it is a personal choice. Just so long as the path chosen is wholesome and positive it is ok with me. I say this because one of the sections I highlighted in the book was

Followers of the Dharma Flower Sutra can be glad when they encourter people of other faiths who have found carriages appropriate for themselves. The Sutra teaches that there are many successful ways, some, no doubt, beyond our imagination.

A big theme here is "skillful means" which is a phrase I learned years ago when I started to adopt this Path. Reeves is puttng a lot of formality around the definition but I think that anyone who has been a teacher understand "skillful means" just through experience. We aren't all the same. We all respond a little differently to what is being taught. A skillful teacher understands the student and tailors the message to what works best for the student. Something I think is being lost in the cookie-cutter approach to school, at least here in North America.

I love that being skillful does not require perfect knowledge. If we are to wait for perfect knowledge before we act, we might be waiting a very long time. Instead being skillful means being based on intelligence, insight, and wisdom. I might add to that compassion and experience, which really are aspects of the previous three.

"What needs to be done?" vs "What can I do?" is another critical question. As an individual, it can be paralyzing to consider all the actions that are required. We probably aren't even capable of all of those actions. "What can I do?" is more empowering. I might not be able to do everything but I can do something.

The title of the section "Our Burning House" really hit me. We know from climate ecology that our house is burning. We can also see that just shouting "the house is burning!!!" is ineffective for some people. What skillful vehicles can we use to get the message across to those who need it?


Interesting chapter and I like the others have said above, I am glad Reeves finally got out of the initial rut of his message.


Tairin
sat today and lah

[Hokuu]

The idea of skillful means seems to be reasonable and workable. It allows looking at situations with a fresh eye and asking oneself, “Informed by precepts/moral principles, what’s the best way to act here and now?”

I liked the notion that kids could not be forcefully taken from the house but had to be lured out of it. It’s probably related to the question of missionary work raised above. Many of us feel allergic to missionaries for various reasons, including them usually acting forcefully. At the same time, we can practice Buddhadharma today only because there were missionaries and I’m pretty sure they were not preaching with their robes only. That is not to say I’d like it or I’d be convinced by them, but I believe that the idea of non-assertive preaching through one’s own behavior isn’t what actually happened in the past in China, Japan, etc. When the great Keizan was looking for grounds to build a monastery, he reportedly dreamed of the site filled with temple buildings and monks’ sandals hanging from a tree - upaya, I guess

And the last thing - nirvana as provisional teaching and skillful means. I do understand the inevitability and value of the historical development of the doctrine. I resonate with the idea of the identity of the relative (samsara) and the absolute (nirvana), but I cringe every time I hear anybody say Siddhartha Gautama taught it. I believe modern science is well enough equipped to reconstruct what he taught, and I don’t see any plausible way to claim he taught the nirvana/samsara opposition as some kind of skillful means. One can perfectly well accept this and later doctrinal developments, still remaining a faithful Buddhist - no need to sell the unsellable.

gassho
satlah

[Bion]

And the last thing - nirvana as provisional teaching and skillful means. I do understand the inevitability and value of the historical development of the doctrine. I resonate with the idea of the identity of the relative (samsara) and the absolute (nirvana), but I cringe every time I hear anybody say Siddhartha Gautama taught it. I believe modern science is well enough equipped to reconstruct what he taught, and I don’t see any plausible way to claim he taught the nirvana/samsara opposition as some kind of skillful means. One can perfectly well accept this and later doctrinal developments, still remaining a faithful Buddhist - no need to sell the unsellable.

gassho
satlah

I really appreciate your bluntness here. I think it’s important to remember that the texts we’re examining were firmly rooted in their own historical and cultural contexts. The composition of the Abhidharma, roughly two centuries after the Buddha’s death, represented an effort to pin down, in meticulous detail, the precise distinctions between phenomena. This project inevitably provoked pushback from other thinkers and scholars—Nagarjuna being a prominent example. Although he lived after the Lotus Sutra was composed, or around the time it was finalized, he challenged Buddhist scholars who relied heavily on Abhidharma categories, and he is a good example of how thinking was employed to counter the rigidity of certain schools. And he was just one influential figure in a particular moment in time, but I think the Lotus Sutra is also in this "fight".

For example, Nagarjuna posed questions such as, “There is no addition of nirvana nor removal of samsara. This being so, what distinction is there between samsara and nirvana?” Both the rise of Mahayana texts and the writings of thinkers like Nagarjuna took shape against the backdrop of the Abhidharma’s definitive claims about virtually every Buddhist concept, including nirvana and samsara. These claims rested on implicit assumptions about the real, independent existence of “things”—assumptions that go beyond what either the early suttas or empirical evidence can justify.

Nagarjuna’s strategy is, in many ways, to echo the Buddha’s own emphasis that nirvana is subtle, hard to see, and beyond the scope of mere reasoning. He reminds us that it is impossible to establish absolute conceptual distinctions between phenomena, including between samsara and nirvana. His readers would have been pretty familiar with the early canonical texts that state that there is no discoverable “first point” or beginning of samsara. A being must already be in samsara in order to realize nirvana. Thus, the first point of samsara would also be the first point of nirvana. But since the first point of samsara is unknowable, the first point of nirvana is likewise unknowable. This was one of Nagarjuna’s key points on this topic: there is nothing by which we can ultimately differentiate the two.

Seen in this context, it becomes easier to understand how interpretations evolved over the centuries, and why they changed in the ways they did. I believe many texts created in this period aimed to force the minds of the readers/listeners into accepting the limits of rational knowledge and open up to a different way of seeing.

From my perspective, I think it is safe to say that the Buddha’s teaching on the nirvana–samsara opposition is indeed a skillful means, in the sense that it is intended to bring about a specific result: the liberation of those being taught, using a conventional distinction. In the same way, the Lotus Sutra’s statements about nirvana and samsara are also skillful means, perhaps useful for anyone who is deeply attached to these goals. What these claims do is challenge us intellectually, but they do not alter reality.

Great thing to ponder, Hokuu! Thank you for the challenge and for speaking your mind with clarity.

Gassho
sat lah

[Shujin]

This chapter... oh boy. I've pared down many of my thoughts on Reeves' commentary, as they aren't particularly helpful and are quite critical. I'm a bit more charitable when I remember that he was a Unitarian minister. Skillful means are a difficult topic. We can say they exist, yet the criteria (appropriateness, skillfulness, and effectiveness) can be quite subjective. Reeves writes "there are no examples of skillful methods that turn out to be ineffective." This seems like a case of outcome bias.

Things that I did like in this chapter: awakening is a responsibility as much as an achievement. Also: "...leaving behind our play-world, our attachments, and illusions, or at least some of them, in order to enter the real world." Stories of the Lotus Sutra was written in 2010, before the explosion of smart phones and social media. Reeves notes that we are "like children at play, not paying enough attention to the world around us." In our current age, many of us are in fact children at play, drawn into a hollow world of entertainment at the expense of everything else.

Gassho,
Shujin
st/lah

[MikeH]

What stood out most to me in this chapter of Reeves is the parable of the burning house, and the way in which it is a sort of reversal of a parable I learned in the religion of my youth. In the parable that I read as a child, the "parable of the great banquet", a master is frustrated that the many invitees to his house have snubbed his feast. The master eventually orders his servants to "go out into the highways and byways," find people, and "compel them to come in, that my house may be full". I learned in more recent years that this parable justified forced conversions for centuries, from the conversions of the Donatists in the 4th century, to that of the Huguenots in the 17th. There are lots of ways to read this parable, and I don't mean to criticize it, but it is a source of my allergy to missionary activity.

In the Lotus Sutra's parable of the burning house, on the other hand, the spirit is different, the "missionary mission" is opposite in many ways. In the Lotus Sutra parable, the savior is not a master, but a father; the goal is not to fill a house, but to empty it; the method of achieving the goal is not compulsion, but gift. I appreciate this sort of missionary work whose concern is real, present pain and suffering, whose motive is compassion, and whose reward is appreciated immediately rather than put off to an uncertain future life. So consider my allergy to missionary work cured, if this parable gives the spirit of it. And thank you, all Buddhist missionaries, who have guided us distracted children away from fiery doom.

What I learned: the image of the burning house does not represent pessimism about all life in this world, but rather the sorry state of narrow human attachment, desire, and ego.

A question: I learned as a child that, when reading parables, you get the most out of them by imagining yourself as a character in the parable (but never the savior character). Then I was taught to sense everything in the story and ask how I would respond, feel, think, if it were about me. So I did that with this parable, and imagined myself as one of the children. After doing so, I had this question from the point of view of a child in a carriage: "Where are we going, dad? Where will we live now?" That's what this parable leaves me wondering. To be honest, it's kind of an unsettling parable...

[Apologies, Bion, but I had to go back and edit the chart that maps Reeves onto the Lotus Sutra. As I mentioned, I made that chart on the basis of a skim of the whole book. Apparently, skimming wasn't enough to map Reeves' Chapter 5 onto the Sutra. Reeves announces at the beginning of Chapter 5 that he will discuss Chapter 2 of the Sutra (which he does), but then the parable he discusses is from Chapter 3 of the Sutra. So I guess the chart is a work-in-progress! I'll keep updating it back in the Chapter 4 discussion forum.]

Gassho,
satlah,
Mike

[Bion]

What stood out most to me in this chapter of Reeves is the parable of the burning house, and the way in which it is a sort of reversal of a parable I learned in the religion of my youth. In the parable that I read as a child, the "parable of the great banquet", a master is frustrated that the many invitees to his house have snubbed his feast. The master eventually orders his servants to "go out into the highways and byways," find people, and "compel them to come in, that my house may be full". I learned in more recent years that this parable justified forced conversions for centuries, from the conversions of the Donatists in the 4th century, to that of the Huguenots in the 17th. There are lots of ways to read this parable, and I don't mean to criticize it, but it is a source of my allergy to missionary activity.

In the Lotus Sutra's parable of the burning house, on the other hand, the spirit is different, the "missionary mission" is opposite in many ways. In the Lotus Sutra parable, the savior is not a master, but a father; the goal is not to fill a house, but to empty it; the method of achieving the goal is not compulsion, but gift. I appreciate this sort of missionary work whose concern is real, present pain and suffering, whose motive is compassion, and whose reward is appreciated immediately rather than put off to an uncertain future life. So consider my allergy to missionary work cured, if this parable gives the spirit of it. And thank you, all Buddhist missionaries, who have guided us distracted children away from fiery doom.

What I learned: the image of the burning house does not represent pessimism about all life in this world, but rather the sorry state of narrow human attachment, desire, and ego.

A question: I learned as a child that, when reading parables, you get the most out of them by imagining yourself as a character in the parable (but never the savior character). Then I was taught to sense everything in the story and ask how I would respond, feel, think, if it were about me. So I did that with this parable, and imagined myself as one of the children. After doing so, I had this question from the point of view of a child in a carriage: "Where are we going, dad? Where will we live now?" That's what this parable leaves me wondering. To be honest, it's kind of an unsettling parable...

[Apologies, Bion, but I had to go back and edit the chart that maps Reeves onto the Lotus Sutra. As I mentioned, I made that chart on the basis of a skim of the whole book. Apparently, skimming wasn't enough to map Reeves' Chapter 5 onto the Sutra. Reeves announces at the beginning of Chapter 5 that he will discuss Chapter 2 of the Sutra (which he does), but then the parable he discusses is from Chapter 3 of the Sutra. So I guess the chart is a work-in-progress! I'll keep updating it back in the Chapter 4 discussion forum.]

Gassho,
satlah,
Mike

whenever you can, send me a PM with whatever updates are needed, so I can edit the table on the study page!

gassho
sat lah

[Tensei]

Hi everyone,

Thank you for your wonderful reflections - they provide new avenues to explore the reading in more depth.

I'm cutting it pretty close to the Chapter 6 release, but as is typical it seems, got stuck in the mud with some of the sections in this week's Chapter. Upaya, while essential for the teaching of dharma, is such an important part of our practice. What is appropriate for this very moment?

Perhaps not so skillfully, I ended up falling down another rabbit hole and doing some side reading on Nyoho. It seems like Nyoho and Upaya both point towards what is appropriate and in accordance with the dharma, albeit related to practicing aspects of the dharma and teaching the dharma, respectively.

https://sanshin-source.weebly.com/nyoho.html

So, what did I learn from this week's reading? That the Three Vehicles are all contained in the One Vehicle (which is not a 'fourth' vehicle), and that the third is the Boddhisattva Vehicle. Maybe I read the chapter in the Lotus Sutra incorrectly, but I could have sworn that each instance of this third vehicle was called the Buddha vehicle, except when discussing the oxen cart towards the end. I assume that's on purpose.

What's one question that I have? I wonder why Reeves jumped directly to the Parable in the sutra, rather than spending much time on the Skillful Means chapter. Maybe he'll discuss it more in the next chapter!

Gassho,
Tensei
satlah

[Chiko]

My mind is braiding together the topic of skillful means with the question of suffering, and whether it can free us from arrogance. Suffering certainly is a precursor to skilful means, I think, insofar as they’re a dynamic and empathetic response to the world. I wouldn’t be as patient or kind as I am (as I hope I am) if it weren’t for my suffering. Every bit of it was necessary in order for me to be here with you all. It's interesting, though, that the children didn't notice the house was on fire. I haven’t always known when my own house was on fire. It took trauma caused by my arrogance to realize I had spent years splashing gasoline everywhere, thinking it was water. Practice turns that suffering into good just by bringing clarity to our thoughts, words, and actions. I've been smelling smoke a lot more easily lately, and not recoiling when I do…

Gassho,
Chiko
st/lah

[Seiraku]

What stands out in Reeves' commentary to me are his thoughts like "many things that are not the whole truth are nevertheless important truths." and "we should seek the truth, even hidden truths, in what others say... 'others' includes of course other religions and their followers." About 13 years ago I left the religion I grew up with and rejected it adamantly, and thought the world would be better without any religion. I'm not in that same spot today but still get reactive toward certain things in other religions. Thinking about this story about the Three Vehicles helped remind me how people can find contemplation, peace, compassion and more in other types of teachings. Who knows exactly how the vehicles work and where someone will encounter them.

Gassho,
Seiraku
SatLah