I have been reading Chogyam Trungpa – The heart of the Buddha. It seems very sound. Thomas Merton was very struck by him when he met him on his last journey in India. His description of the boddhisatva ideal is as uncompromising as anything in the Sermon on the Mount. That the then Cardinal Ratzinger could describe Buddhism as ‘spiritual autoeroticism’ shows profound ignorance and is deeply shaming for the Catholic Church. The more I think about it the more the concept of ‘betweenness’ helps explain why love is the religious imperative that it is.
The imperative to love runs all through the Old Testament, Deuteronomy immediately springs to mind, and the prophets, Hosea especially. It is even more explicit in the New Testament – in the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, in John, in Romans 12 and 1 Corinthians 15 and in John’s first letter. Two things, however, seem to have clouded the purity of this ideal. Greater importance seems to have become attached to the imperative to believe. The simplicity of John’s, ‘He who loves, loves God,’ as the essence of religion, became, somehow, less important than the necessity for justification by faith. Faith, not love, became the touchstone of Christianity. This trend achieved absolute importance with the Protestant Reformation. The other thing was the adoption of the monastic ideal of flight into solitude so as to be able to devote all one’s time to loving God. In other words, to love God directly was better than loving him by loving one’s neighbour.
So far all this is a bit simplistic. There are complicated reasons why the imperative to believe rather than to love became dominant and these need to be examined. To what extent are the factors which led to gnosticism at work here, I wonder? There is also the fact that it is easier to distinguish who belongs to your group, sect, or church by making the criterion beliefs and attitudes rather than love. After all, almost everyone can claim to love. John is quite clear. ‘He who loves, loves God.’ As is Paul, ‘The greatest of these is love.’ Every other virtue is particular and applicable only to the here and now. Only love transcends all boundaries. Why then did it not become the only and ultimate criterion? Why did faith in dogma supersede it, a faith which became ever more refined and particular in the doctrinal controversies of the first 500 years? Was love too general? Was love too demanding?
Whatever the answers to these questions there is no doubt that Christianity became increasingly sectarian and tribal, first in the struggle with various heresies, later with the distinction between Roman Catholics and Orthodox, and later still with the multitude of churches and sects which developed as a result of the Reformation. There is also no doubt from the appalling crimes of the Albigensian Crusade, the Crusades against the Muslims, the Inquisition, the religious wars in Europe, the treatment of the indians in North and South America etc., that love was no longer a relevant criterion.
In contrast to all this Buddhists have never instigated holy wars or pogroms. They are inclusive rather than exclusive, willing to accept whatever is good and helpful in other religions rather than insist on universal conformity. Unlike Christians, who have rarely had a problem in justifying violence, Buddhists have never justified it. There have been exceptions to this in the last few years in Sri Lanka and Burma but these tend rather to prove the rule than deny it. Buddhists do not use the word ‘love’ much, if at all, but they have much to say about compassion. There is the ideal of the compassionate Buddha who postpones his salvation so that he may help others find theirs. The boddhisatva ideal aspires to sanctity in order to be able to help others.
The difference between the two religions is in large part due to the concept of self. In Christianity there is the belief in a permanent substantial self, or soul and it becomes supremely important that this soul should survive death and achieve eternal happiness in Heaven rather than eternal punishment in Hell. It follows from this that the believer should be able to distinguish between those who are destined for Heaven from those destined for Hell so that he can belong to the group who are going to be saved. The criterion of love is too broad and too general. It includes repentant prostitutes and compassionate thieves, ordinary mothers and everyday friends. Many Christians need something more specific and less general, something that will set them apart from others and let them know that they are on the right path. Hence the importance of faith and keeping to the rules and we are right back with the Pharisees whom Jesus criticised for precisely that.
Selfless love is difficult for those who attach such great importance to the self. Those who have achieved it are those who have discovered something greater than self. Jesus knew this and preached it uncompromisingly. ‘What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and suffer the loss of his self?’ He knew that selfless love, agapaic love, was the only way. Paradoxically, the self had to die in order to live. This is hard to accept. It goes against ordinary common sense. It is much easier to believe in rituals and credal formulas which offer balm to the self and the guarantee of future bliss. But Jesus had discovered this love and the reality of the love that lies beyond self. So had Paul, ‘I live now not I but Christ lives in me.’