The Zennist

Going beyond phenomena

Yesterday I was musing over the Vajracchedika-prajnaparamita Sutra, also known as the Diamond Sutra.  From this pericope in the Diamond Sutra: “Even a dharma is cast aside, much more a non-dharma,” I could see a more profound and esoteric meaning behind the Parable of the Raft which is found in the Alagaddûpama Sutta.  First let me provide the parable.

“Monks, as a man going along a highway might see a great stretch of water, the hither bank dangerous and frightening, the further bank secure, not frightening, but if there were not a boat for crossing by or a bridge across for going from the not-beyond to the beyond, this might occur to him: ‘This is a great stretch of water, the hither bank dangerous and frightening, the further bank secure and not frightening, but there is not a boat for crossing by or a bridge across for going from the not-beyond to the beyond. Suppose that I, having collected grass, sticks, branches and foliage, and having tied a raft, depending on that raft, and striving with hands and feet, should cross over safely to the beyond?’ Then, monks, that man, having collected grass, sticks, branches and foliage, having tied a raft, depending on that raft and striving with his hands and feet, might cross over safely to the beyond. To him, crossed over, gone beyond, this might occur: ‘Now this raft has been very useful to me. I, depending on this raft, and striving with my hands and feet, crossed over safely to the beyond. Suppose now that I, having put this raft on my head, or having lifted it on to my shoulder, should proceed as I desire?’ What do you think about this, monks? If that man does this, is he doing what should be done with that raft?”

“No, Lord.”

“What should that man do, monks, in order to do what should be done with that raft? In this case, monks, it might occur to that man who has crossed over, gone beyond: ‘Now, this raft has been very useful to me. Depending on this raft and striving with my hands and feet, I have crossed over safely to the beyond. Suppose now that I, having beached this raft on dry ground or having submerged it under the water, should proceed as I desire?’ In doing this, monks, that man would be doing what should be done with that raft. Even so, monks, is the Parable of the Raft dhamma [dharma] taught by me for crossing over, not for retaining. You, monks, by understanding the Parable of the Raft, should get rid even of (right) mental objects, all the more of wrong ones” (M. i. 134-135).

What I came away with from the Diamond Sutra is another way of looking at the Parable of the Raft.  This new interpretation is that dharma should be treated as phenomena—phenomena in the widest sense of appearance including both subjective and objective appearance.  This would even include Buddhist scripture and our thoughts and ideas about it—in fact all of our training and endeavors to reach enlightenment.

With this in mind, the parable is really saying we are using phenomena to reach the beyond, or the same, the noumenon which in a Buddhist framework is the non-sensory domain of absolute Mind.  

It stands to reason that dharma or phenomena are useful just like the raft in the parable.  But when we reach the noumenal, how can phenomena be of benefit anymore?  Simply put, it can’t.     

We can even imagine that our raft is a huge nuclear powered ship which is very seaworthy. And because it is designed so well, we are able to reach the non-phenomenal other shore.  But once on the noumenal shore this great and powerful ship, not to mention our crossing, all seem like a dream.  This other shore, i.e., nirvana, transcends anything we might have imagined before we reached this shore.  Still, on this shore we are not annihilated.  Nor are we in anyway phenomenal either.

Where's Mind in modern Zen?

When I read classical Zen literature, I like to see how the Zen ancestors handle ‘Mind’ (not the small mind but the big one).  It tells me a lot about the depth of Zen in that period and obviously I learn just how important Mind was in the formation of early Zen.  

For example, recognizing the essence or nature of Mind which is utterly pure is what made Hui-neng the Sixth Patriarch of Zen.  There is no doubt.  What he realized was the very substance of this universe from which all things are composed.  If Mind were not this fundamental and primordial there would be no need to take up a quest trying to realize it.

The major problem that Zen faces today is that it doesn’t completely understand the importance of Mind in Zen.  To give one example, the late Zen master Shunryu Suzuki, referring to the “Zen mind” and also the “big mind” in his book, Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind, said “This mind is whatever you see.  Your true mind is always with whatever you see.”  But Zen master Huang-po had a different take on Mind.  (I wonder if Suzuki knew this?)  

According to Zen master Huang-po, Mind is unborn and it has neither form nor appearance.  If one sees something they’ve missed seeing Mind.  Huang-po also said that if Zen students do not awake to this Mind substance they will be seeking the Buddha outside of themselves.  They will forever remain attached to forms, pious practices and so on.

Going back to Zen master Shunryu Suzuki’s book, the Zen mind he writes about is the same as everything.  However, for some of Zen’s luminaries like Bodhidharma, Hui-neng and Huang-po, the Mind cannot be everything because all ‘things’ are changing—not unchanging which is the case with Mind.  

Modern Zen’s views about Mind are more than often confusing and makeshift or completely lacking.  Like God, Mind becomes in modern Zen Buddhism like the clown’s wax nose that can be shaped into any form.

On this same course, the treatment of bodhicitta (i.e.,the awakened Mind) is conspicuously absent in modern American Zen centers and their literature.  And when it is taken up, which is rare, it is is rendered, for example, as the “mind of love”!  Yet, bodhicitta’s importance cannot be overemphasized.  There can be no Bodhisattva stages without bodhicitta and by implication, no Bodhisattva and no Buddhahood!  Much to its credit, Tibetan Buddhism has a good understanding of bodhicitta and luminous Mind as well.  In other words, it is not hard to find bodhicitta in Tibetan Buddhist literature not to mention a good accounting of Mind.

Should, from all of this, we form the opinion that Zen never discussed the subject of bodhicitta, very early in the formation of Chinese Zen, we do find evidence of bodhicitta being clearly mentioned by none other than the Sixth Patriarch’s disciple, Ho-tse Shen-hui (684–758).

Friends, you have all been able to come here so that you can all generate the unsurpassable bodhicitta. It is extremely difficult to encounter the Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and true spiritual compatriots. Today you are going to hear something you've never heard before. In the past you never encountered it, but today you have.

The Nirvana Sutra says, “The Buddha asked Kasyapa, ‘Would it be difficult to throw a mustard seed down from Tusita Heaven and hit the point of a needle on the earth below?’ Bodhisattva Kasyapa replied, ‘It would be extremely difficult, World-honored One.’ The Buddha told Kasyapa, ‘This is not difficult. For the correct cause and the correct condition to meet—this is what is difficult!’

“What are the correct cause and the correct condition? Friends, your generation of the unsurpassable bodhicitta constitutes the correct cause. For the Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and true spiritual compatriots to cast this unsurpassable bodhicitta into your minds such that you achieve the ultimate emancipation constitutes the correct condition. For the two to meet is excellent. You must each and every one of you generate bodhicitta! 

Since you have already come to this ordination platform to study the perfection of wisdom, I want each and every one of you to generate the unsurpassable bodhicitta both mentally and orally and to become enlightened to the cardinal meaning of the middle way in this very place! (John R. McRae, Seeing Through Zen, 55–56)”

Modern Zen, is seems to me, spends too much time trying to satisfy its clients; trying to meet their expectations, in other words (whatever these expectations might be); and while doing so neglects the important duty to be faithful to Mind.

Psychopathy in Zen

Among character or personality disorders such as alcoholism and drug abuse, psychopathy is perhaps the most insidious.  If evil had an ideal personality it would be psychopathy.  It would also be at home in modern religious institutions.

More than any other personality disorder, psychopathy bears the mien of sanity, masterfully.  Because it bears it so skillfully, only a well trained psychologist with long experience can detect the psychopath behind the mask of sanity.  Usually, it is only after the psychopath does his damage that words come to mind like, "I never thought he was that kind of person.  I am shocked.  Someone should have known!"

In all this, we must keep in mind that a psychopath can be and often is very charming; who is also quite vain giving an aura of pseudo-confidence.  Besides this, a psychopath is very manipulative.  He also finds it difficult to be truthful and sincere.  Above all the psychopath has no sense of guilt or remorse—they lack a conscience.  Nor does the psychopath accept responsibility for his actions.  The psychopath also doesn't understand the meaning of 'interpersonal relationships'.  As a result of this, they engage in promiscuous sexual behavior.  The list goes on of psychopathic traits.

While many psychopaths are in our prison system, others are not.  Many psychopaths are to be found in the business world.  They are also in the military and also in religion.  This, of course, leads to the question: what do they really want?  According to Dr. Andrew Lobaczewski the psychopath "enjoys making others suffer.  Just as normal humans enjoy seeing other people happy...the psychopath enjoys the exact opposite."

Of psychopaths in religion, there is no shortage.  There are many examples I could bring up.  And while it seems like an odd place for a psychopath to be, religion is not without its benefits and rewards especially when it comes to manipulating and taking advantage of people, ultimately, to delight in their suffering.

Just the other day I received an email from Stuart Lachs.  He has a new paper out that is jointly written with the owner of the The Zensite.  The title of it is The Aitken-Shimano Letters.  What I find interesting in the paper is that it provides a good example of psychopathy in Zen, although the authors do not ascribe psychopathy to anyone nor even mention the subject.  What I hope the reader draws from this paper is that all that glitters is not gold.  Just because a Zen master wears robes and has a lot of fawning students, one should never draw the conclusion that this person is the Buddha who has thoroughly awakened to pure Mind.

Finally, it is on track to say that the institution of Zen is very susceptible to being taken over by psychopaths, so that what is derived from the study of Zen doesn’t amount to much.  In fact, what one will often come away with in their study of Zen is a sense of betrayal.  And this you would expect when a Zen teacher or Roshi is a psychopath.  Here is the link to The Aitken-Shimano Letters Click here.

Revising Mind in Buddhism

Some Buddhist scholars reduce the Buddhist notion of Mind to the faculty of knowing—knowing, to be more precise, as discursive knowing.  But this is not how Mind is used in Zen and in particular, the Lankavatara Sutra.  Mind, especially in the Lankavatara Sutra, is treated as the absolute substance of all.  Evidence of this particular meaning of Mind is also suggested throughout the Mahayana canon, and the important Shastra, The Awakening of Faith in Mahayana which is attributed to Ashvaghosa.

Unfortunately, to reduce Mind down to the faculty of knowing misses the whole tenor of Buddhism which is primarily concerned with a Buddhist practitioner’s switch from their present state of being, a kind of phenomenalism, to the realization of the actual substantive nature of reality itself, this being the luminous Mind (prabhâsvara-citta). 

The overarching difficulty with trying to see this world from the side of absolute Mind lies with our inability to get out of our present interpretive mode of being which takes sensory awareness to be primary, including the knowledge derived.  Such a mode as this doesn’t take into account that trying to grab reality with both sensory hands, for the sake of the sensory body, is not fundamental enough for Buddhism although it is believed to be such.

Non-modern, traditional Buddhist literature is hardly tired of telling us this when it attempts to describe the nature of Mind; trying, at the same time, to keep our bad interpretive habits at arm’s length.  Thus, Mind is said to be empty, for example.  This means that Mind is empty of all sensory determination—but by no means empty of itself.  Mind is said to be nonexistent like space (akasha).  This means that Mind has no mass; nor is it dimensional.   Mind’s phenomena are said to be like an image in a mirror.  This means that Mind is like the substance of a mirror, in the example of mercury, upon which shapes are manifest. 

I have always urged those new to Buddhism and even seasoned Buddhist practitioners to be somewhat wary of today’s popular forms of Buddhism and especially teachers who never treat Mind as it should be treated.  In fact, conspicuously absent from American forms of Buddhism—primarily Zen—is Mind’s cardinal importance which is key to the correct interpretation of Buddhism.  Instead, what is put in place of Mind is psychologism together with a view that meditation should only serve a therapeutic, psychological role.  Such a trend, to say the least, is dangerous bordering on revisionism in which Buddhism is significantly modified to fit within a modernist outlook.

The real act of Zen

Just a couple of days ago Zen master Brad Warner made one of those ‘food for thought’ comments (at least in my book he did).  He wrote in his blog:

“People imagine you could teach Zen via the Internet because they imagine that Zen is an intellectual philosophy, they imagine that the words are the philosophy. But they aren't, not anymore than the words in a blog about basketball are the real act of playing basketball”(to read this particular blog Click here) .

I choose to take what Warner said this way, that the essence of Zen transcends discursive thinking.  But more, the Internet, like reading a book about Zen, can only get you so far.  Sometime in your life, if you wish to master Zen, authentically, you have to live the life of a rustic, while racking every fiber of your being to try to understand what pure Mind is, hopefully, one day, to stand in its presence, face to face.

Now, let me take this one step further.  You can’t learn Zen in a monastery or from a Zen teacher, either.  Yes, it is true that you will learn something.  You will learn rituals, perhaps how to make a robe, to be obedient, trusting and a lot of other things that go together to make up an institution.  However, none of this will grant you an insight into pure Mind which is the chief aim and heart of Zen.  Even if the Zen teacher has gained a profound insight into pure Mind such an insight cannot be transferred.  Even the Buddha could not transfer his awakening to another.

The aforementioned, of course, hints at a sharp distinction between the institution of Zen and the realization of Mind, itself, which transcends the precincts of the institution.  Incidentally, it is not off base to mention that Soto Zen master Manzan Dohaku (1636–1715) was of the firm belief that an individual does not need an enlightenment experience to receive Dharma transmission.  In other words, in institutional Zen you don’t have to be enlightened to be a Zen master.

Just like there is a huge difference between philosophical Taoism and religious Taoism, Zen Buddhism, it can be argued, developed outside of the institution and was only later ‘institutionalized’.  This means for the serious practitioner of Zen that a radical transformation has to take place within them, which doesn’t necessarily depend on the institutions of Zen.  In other words, it is not required that you go to China, Korea or Japan to uncover pure Mind.  However, if you wish to be a part of the institution of Zen you can’t do it on the Internet, by reading books, or sitting in zazen in some cabin ten miles away from your nearest neighbor.  You must join an institution of Zen whether it is AZI, Sanbo Kyodan, or some American Zen institution.

The Confucian Zen lineage

The authenticity of the so-called 'Zen lineage' is very important to American and European Zen culture.  Beneath the superstructure of modern Zen is the firm belief that the Dharma transmission from teacher to student is authentically Buddhist going all the way back to the Buddha, himself.  It is believed that when such a transmission occurs one literally becomes a Buddha!  

Dissenting from the popular view, I find no solid evidence in the oldest Buddhist canon, the Nikayan (Pali), that the Buddha transmitted Dharma to anyone, and certainly not to Mahakashyapa as depicted in the Sung Dynasty work, The Transmission of the Lamp (Ching Te Ch'uan Teng Lu) where the Buddha transmits the pure Dharma-eye to Mahakashyapa who subsequently transmits it to Ananda and so on down the line.  I hasten to add that in the Avatamsaka Sutra, it states that great disciples like Mahakashyapa “were not capable of perpetuating the lineage of Buddhas.”

Both Chinese Buddhist pilgrims Hsuan-tsang, who lived in India between AD 643 to 627, and I-tsing, who lived there for almost 25 years, never once mentioned the idea of an Indian Buddhist patriarchate in which the Buddha transmitted to Mahakashyapa and the latter to Ananda, etc.

From Tao-hsuan's Buddhist Biographies which was compiled in the 7th century we learn a few things of interest about the original Zen school, for example, that Bodhidharma was a meditation (dhyana) teacher who came from southern India.  The members of his school lived a very severe ascetic life.  Tao-hsuan also stated that Bodhidharma regarded the Lankavatara Sutra as the only Sutra worth studying.  In addition, the members of his school only used this particular Sutra as their text.  Curiously, Tao-hsuan never once mentioned anything about Bodhidharma being the 28th Patriarch of Indian Buddhism!

As to the reason for such a lineage like the Zen lineage which depends on a transmission from teacher to student, I side with some scholars who see this particular transmission as being influenced by the important role of Confucianism in Chinese culture.  Citing from the book Zen Ritual by Steven Heine & Dale Stuart Wright, I found the following observation to be of especial interest, fitting in nicely with this topic and summing it up for now.

"Jorgensen writes that Zen is the most prominent form of Buddhism because it is the most Chinese of any form of Buddhism.  It is the most Chinese because it is the form of Buddhism that is closest to Confucianism.  It is Confucian because it conforms to traditional Chinese family values.  Like any good Confucian family, it has ancestors whom it honors.  It honors those ancestors by transmitting their legacy to proper descendants, from generation to generation, who will maintain and carry on their family traditions.  We can complete Jorgensen’s explanation by saying that in Zen this process of transmitting a family legacy is given structural form through the ritual of dharma transmission" (264).

Mind in Zen koans

Zen koans are more or less described as paradoxes by means of which the Zen adept is able to shed dependence on reason forcing the mind into a sudden intuitive awakening.  This is all well and good as far as explanations goes.  But there is also a lot left out.  There is an underlying method behind these seeming paradoxes.

Turning to the koans themselves, while it might offend some to say this, the Japanese koan system is an aberration of the Chinese one.  The Japanese system contains actual answers, the Chinese system does not.  A good illustration of this is from the book The Sound of One Hand by Yoel Hoffman who translates the Gendai Sojizen Hyoron.

A monk asked Master Chao-chou, “Does a dog have Buddha-nature?”  Chao-chou said, “Non-being.”

Answer:  Sitting erect in front of his master, the pupil yells, “Non-being” with all of his might.

Shouting “Non-being” or “Mu” is not the answer, not from the Chinese standpoint.  The Chinese koan system wants us to turn, instead, inwards to that which is unborn and undying this being pure Mind.  This is before our brain and vocal cords are activated, shouting out Mu.  The Japanese koan system, by comparison, seems to have lost this direction.  Mind’s preeminent place is all but ignored for rote answers. 

Before continuing, I need to make it clear what the purpose of Zen is, at least from the standpoint of traditional Chinese Zen or Ch’an.  First we need to establish what is Zen?  The Zen masters answer this question by pointing out that Zen is just the name of the awakened Mind.  As for the purpose of Zen, its goal is to point out this Mind which is actually the Buddha Mind or the same, the Buddha-nature. 

Koans serve a very important function in pointing out Mind’s pure nature for those who sincerely wish to apperceive it.  Koans are set up in such a way that for those who have realized Mind to some degree it is easily seen at work in koans while for those who are ignorant of Mind it is not seen at all.  What confronts the latter is paradoxical and will remain such until they eradicate the false thinking which prevents them from seeing what koans are meant to reveal.

A great deal of introspection is involved with koans insofar as they cannot be understood as one might understand a riddle.  In one way, they trap us in a cage of thought and language, a semiotic cage if you will.  Suddenly, we come to find out that we cannot escape from this cage until we get a genuine glimpse of Mind, the denouement, which unlocks the cage door.  

To orient, correctly, our unawakened mind to unlock the koan we first must accept that all thought and language arises from Mind just as all waves arise from the substance water.  Any particular koan we wish to tackle is a Mind artifact like a wave.  Even more subtle, every thought we conjure up with regard to a particular koan is a Mind artifact (sakaracitta).  

The difficulty of the koan arises when we take our thoughts about the koan to be in accord with Mind, itself, venturing forth on some great hermeneutical project.  This, to be sure, is confusing the linguistic waves of the Mind ocean with Mind, itself.  In other words, we are clueless as to what Mind is, otherwise how could we mistake it for thought?  Mind is not thinkable.  This koan will illustrate this.

Once a monk asked Master Chao-chou, “What does it mean, ‘Our founder [Bodhidharma] came to the west’?” [i.e., what is the meaning of Zen?]

Master Chao-chou stood up

The monk said, “So that’s what it means.

Master Chao-chou said, “I haven’t said anything yet.”

While humorous, Master Chao-chou did rightly point in the direction of the luminous Mind when he stood up.  Not only is Mind the fundamental essence of all but it is also dynamic.  But the monk didn’t see the Mind Chao-chou clearly revealed.  He just saw him stand up.  Finally, as a true Zen Master, Chao-chou made no attempt to describe Mind with words putting it thus into the realm of birth and death.  Just like when the Buddha showed Mahakashyapa the Mind by holding up a flower and then blinking, so too did Chao-chou show this monk the same Mind.  But the monk was dumbfounded. 

As it should become apparent, each and every koan or Zen tale has Mind embedded in it.  This is what the Zen master knows and what the monk or student doesn’t know.  In reading the next koan keep in mind the ineffable nature of Mind; that it transcends all we can say about it.  Notice how Mind is played with in this koan.

Hui-neng asked, “What place do you come from?  Nan-yueh answered, “I come from Sung Mountain.”  Hui-neng asked, “What thing is it that comes here?”  Nan-yueh answered, “If you say that there is something, you cannot meet it.”  Hui-neng asked, “Is it able to be cultivated?”  Nan-yueh answered, “Being cultivated, it would not be nonexistent; being spotted it would not be dirty.”  Hui-neng said, “Just so is this clarity protected by all Buddhas.  It is this to you as it is also to me” (trans. Yi Wu). 

The task of changing ourselves

Sometimes campaigning for change or trying to change others can be a way of dodging the tremendous task of changing ourselves.  This inevitably leads to a case of the blind leading the blind.

“No one who is himself in bondage can release the bonds of others” (Vimalakirti-nirdesha Sutra).

This also leads to the old familiar caution that a little knowledge can often be a dangerous thing when, with such a small amount of knowledge, we believe we are worthy teachers who can lead our students, in the case of Buddhism, to the land of Nirvana.

To be realistic and honest with ourselves we can only change in others what we have already profoundly changed in ourselves, and teach others only what we know not going beyond this which, if we did, would amount to hubris.  

Still, many do try to change others who have changed themselves very little; who also try to teach others but have never, for example, attained Bodhicitta (i.e., the awakened Mind).  Such people are, in one degree or another, deluded.  Nor is it entirely their fault.  Many institutions of Buddhism are in the business of making someone believe they’ve attained something very profound when they haven’t.

Even if someone became a Buddhist monk or a nun who practiced meditation every day for many years, and read the entire canon, this may not add up to any indication of profound change and knowledge.  Such endeavors are completely external.  They do nothing to help us see pure Mind which is the fundamental building block of the universe—and closer to us, the stuff of thought, thoughts being sâkâra-citta, translated as shaped-mind.

In the study of Buddhism, both profound change and real knowledge begin when we switch from living in a world of mind-shapes to seeing first hand Mind, itself.  As a result of this profound switch, wearing robes means nothing (along with institutionalized Buddhism).  Nor do hours of meditation add up to anything except illusory practice.  The canon, too, means almost nothing even though page after page is fundamentally pointing to the Mind of perfect awakening (abhisambodhicitta).

With such change, it becomes apparent to us that we have come to a place that cannot be described in the usual way we describe personal matters and experiences.  Nothing, in fact, has changed externally except to say that the external world no longer enchants us so as to lead us astray.  Yet, nevertheless, there has been a profound change insofar as this body and its thoughts are now seen to be an illusory phenomenon.

Substance and shadow

At times, modern Buddhism makes little or no sense when it comes to understanding the notion of substance and shadow (i.e., shadow as phenomena).  The difference between substance and shadow is either blurred or simply not addressed.  What is often taken up in modern Buddhism is that existence lacks substance or the same, a foundation.  The pot, for example, is not made of clay nor rope strong hemp.  Even these thoughts of ours, which incessantly arise within the confines of our skull, are believed to be without substance.

Thus it would seem, that all of existence has been reduced to shadow and, accordingly, a ceaseless play of interdependent shadows.  All is void—there is no substance.  And this may well be true if one's mind were of such a state that it believed phenomena are constituted of nothing.  But this is not what the Buddha taught.

While it is true that the Buddha taught that all conditioned things are essentially finite he did not teach that there was no unconditioned true reality.  In fact, his teachings were consistent with the theory that illusion is not without a real basis.  Indeed, there is an eternal substance that can be realized which is not illusory; which is not impermanent, suffering or insubstantial. 

Why this is not more acknowledged in modern Buddhism probably rests with just how much substance and shadow are inextricably intertwined.  To differentiate between the two is not as easy as looking at the baby in the bath water clearly knowing this is the baby—this is the water.  The process of extrication is, in other words, by no means easy.  One cannot readily discern phenomena from the substance upon which it depends.  In most cases it takes much of a lifetime to do such.

Yet, to fully comprehend the Buddha's message we must be able to extricate substance from the world of shadows.  Along this line, we must be able to distinguish our self from the insubstantial (anatma) Five Aggregates; our Buddha-nature (buddhata) from the illusion-body; and pure Mind from perturbed mind.  Ultimately, according to the Mahaparinirvana Sutra, the Tathagata thoroughly does away with all illusions—and so must we.  

The first major step of doing away with illusions (the shadows) is when the ordinary run of the mill person (prithagjana) awakens to the higher Mind.  This is like stepping into the shadowless world of true reality.  It is an awesome transformation.  For the first time one sees of what illusion is made.  It is like seeing the gold of the great palace lion, the clay of the pot, or the hemp of the rope.  There is nothing more fundamental and substantive than Mind.  As we look into the depth of the great cosmos, all this is contained within it.  Mind is the substance—not the shadow.

Buddhism is a form of atheism

In The Book of Common Prayer, the section ‘Articles of Religion’ states “There is but one living and true God, everlasting, without body, parts or passions; of infinite power, wisdom and goodness, the Maker and Preserver of all things both visible and invisible.”

We can surmise from this that God is pretty much what we are not—yet, we are his offspring.  So you would think and expect that this mighty God, our Father, would give us lots of his power and goodness since we are his offspring.  Instead, he has given his offspring a frail and limited physical body with lots of misery.  But enough of this.

Buddhism doesn’t care about this kind of God.  Buddhism, as far as religions go, falls into the category of supporting atheism.  Here is an excerpt from K.N. Jayatilleke’s book, The Message of the Buddha (2000) on atheism.

“What is the Buddhist answer to this question?  What the Buddha a Theist, an Atheist, an Agnostic or a Positivist?  The answer is fairly clear.  Given the above definition of God [in The Book of Common Prayer] in its usual interpretation, the Buddha is an atheist and Buddhism in both its Theravada and Mahayana forms is atheism.

Some Western scholars have tried to make out that Mahayana Buddhism came into being about the beginning of the Christian era and that in it the Buddha is deified.  Both these conclusions are false.  Mahayana Buddhism came into being with the Mahasanghika Council, when a group of liberals broke away from the conservative elders or the Theravadins about a hundred years after the death of the Buddha and in none of the Mahayana schools is the Buddha conceived of as a Creator God, though this does not mean that the Buddha was a mere human being in either the Theravada or Mahayana schools of thought.

In denying that the universe is the product of a Personal God, who creates it in time and plans a consummation at the end of time, Buddhism is a form of atheism” (105).

I would add to the above my opinion that anyone coming to Buddhism who has not jettisoned the belief in God is not ready for Buddhism, nor will Buddhism help them except perhaps in the area of relaxation through meditation (a meditation that is superficial).