2026/06/29

화엄불교: 인드라의 보석망 - 프랜시스 쿡 Full text 1

화엄불교: 인드라의 보석망  - 프랜시스 쿡 Full text 1

Full text of "hua-yen-buddhism-the-jewel-net-of-indra"

Hua-yen Buddhism the Jewel Net of Indra
Francis H. Cook  1977

==
Contents

Preface
  1. The Jewel Net of Indra
  2. The Hua-yen School
  3. The Indian Background of Hua-yen 
  4. Identity
  5. Intercausality
  6. The Part and the Whole
  7. Vairocan
  8. Living in the Net of Indra

Notes
Glossary
Index
===

Preface



This book about the world view of a Chinese form of Buddhism called Hua-yen 

(Flower Ornament) is the result of about a decade of serious, uninterrupted 

study of the various forms which Buddhist thought and practice have taken 

since their origins in India in the fifth century B.c. During the six years when I 

was a graduate student in the Program in Buddhist Studies at the University of 

Wisconsin, I became increasingly attracted to this important and hitherto 

neglected system of Buddhist thought. As scholars do, I staked out the territory 

in which I wished to do my future explorations, and for the past several years, I 

have devoted most of my time to the translation and close study of Hua-yen 

materials. I have come to admire Hua-yen philosophy greatly. It 1s out of this 

admiration for such a grand and satisfying world view, as well as the considera- 

tions below, that this book grows, in the hope that Hua~yen will prove to be 

equally interesting to both specialists in Asian religion and those nonspecialists 

who for one reason or another find the study of Buddhism to be a fruitful use 

of time. Keeping in mind the mixed nature of readers of books of this sort, I 

have tried to be as thorough and accurate as such a study demands without 

burdening the nonspecialist with a heavy freight of scholarly apparatus. For 

specialists, I have used notes wherever necessary and placed them in the back of 

the book. On the assumption that the subject is itself both interesting and con- 

vincing, I have avoided the temptation to overinflate the language with profes- 

sional or intellectual jargon in an attempt to further elevate the subject. 


There are several reasons why I decided to write this book. First, as already 

indicated, Hua-yen Buddhism is a fascinating and intrinsically interesting subject. 

Although it may be the deluded fancy of a person who has spent too many 

nights pondering over the meaning of seventh-century Chinese Buddhist 

texts, I would like to believe that the picture of existence described in Hua-yen 

literature 1s truly beautiful, grand, and inspiring. What is more, we are assured 

by wise men of the Hua-yen tradition that we do in fact dwell in such a universe 



x — Preface 



constantly, though we are hardly aware of it. For the reader with 2 working 

knowledge of Western philosophy, religion, art, and science, the Hua-yen 

world will prove to be not only new and different, but challenging, and not at 

all self-evident. The reader is going to have to perform the very difficult task of 

opening his or her mind and making it flexible. But the rewards of this effort will 

be a new understanding of a view of existence which 1s exciting in its possibilities. 

Even the reader who can appreciate only slightly such a view of things will have 

taken the first step of that journey which Hua~yen texts refer to as “entering the 

dharma-dhatu.” To the reader whose mind is forever made up that reality lies in 

tables of statistics showing the proportion of third-generation Irish in Boston 

who own television sets, the Hua-yen description of the true nature of things is 

going to seem to be sheer nonsense. He is going to laugh, but to paraphrase 

Lao-tzu, if he didn’t laugh it would not be worth serious consideration. 


Another reason for writing this book 1s that I hope that it will add something 

to our knowledge of what Chinese Buddhism was, and how it developed. 

Some excellent studies of pre-T’ang Chinese Buddhism have appeared in 

Japanese and Western languages in the past few decades, and some notable 

studies of T’ang culture in certain areas have now appeared also, but next to 

nothing has been written yet in the West on this form of Chinese Buddhism 

which has been acknowledged by Oriental religionists and students of Chinese 

culture to be the high-water mark of Buddhist philosophical effort. One con- 

sideration, then, 1s the obvious one of attempting to describe Hua-yen Buddhism 

carefully and accurately. At the same time, we need to know much more about 

how Hua~yen came to be what it 1s. What are its connections with parent Indian 

thought forms? How, if at all, is it related to indigenous Chinese systems of 

thought such as Taoism? While it is not my purpose to deal explicitly with the 

question of adaptation and assimilation, I hope that some light will be shed 

on them. 


Finally, a third reason. I wonder if the Hua-yen world view can be seriously 

considered as an adequate, satisfying description of existence. Perhaps, again, 

it is the lamentable result of too many nights of coffee, pipe smoke, and small 

Chinese characters, but I have come to ask myself if the structure and nature of 

reality as shown by the Hua-yen masters is, after all, that remote and implausible, 

despite the vast gulf that separates our own time and place from T’ang period 

Chinese Buddhism. Western presuppositions have brought us to a world view 

vastly different from that of a Chinese Buddhist of the late seventh century. 

Moreover, the Hua~yen view of existence is a religious and ethical view, finally, 

and modern Western man, despite his pious protestations, has no real under- 

standing of, or concern with, religious values anymore. But, with regard to the 



‘Foeet 



Preface = x 



former problem, are we not just as separated from the worlds of Plato, Jesus, 

Shakespeare, and Bach? The world of Jesus two thousand years ago on the east- 

ern end of the Mediterranean sea (and really an Oriental world!) has practically 

nothing in common with Western culture of the twentieth century. If a man 

living in London were to discover the Hebrew-Christian Bible manuscript for 

the first time today (and hence we would not be heirs to that tradition), translate, 

and publish it, the world view as divulged by that old book would certainly 

appear to be as implausible, irrelevant, and perhaps silly as that given in Hua-yen 

books. In other words, the plausibility or cogency of an idea is not always 

necessarily intrinsic to the material, but often seems to come from familiarity. 

That Jesus, Plato, or Shakespeare, or even a nineteenth-century Romantic poet, 

can communicate with us over the distances in time and place is partly due to 

the unbroken tradition stretching from them down to us. Put in another way, 

they make sense to us, have meaning to us, because they have become part of 

what we are. Without that unbroken tradition, it is, it must be agreed, difficult 

to seriously confront an alien tradition. 


But familiarity does not make an idea true. The only real test of an idea 1s 

the effect it has on our lives, the way it helps us to organize our experience in a 

satisfying manner, in the general manner in which it forcibly shapes our thought 

and conduct. If a man’s thoughts can do this, they can transcend the centuries. 

The reader must, therefore, put aside his cultural prejudices and bigotries and ask 

himself seriously if the Hua-yen picture of existence is ipso facto false or incredible 

simply because 1t is the product of a race of people and a time so different from his 

own. This 1s difficult to do, but in the ability to journey courageously outside 

one’s own intellectual and cultural parish lies the only hope for a true civilization. 


Why, then, should Hua-yen not present its case along with that of all the 

other philosophies that vie for our attention? The poor Western citizen is 

confronted with a real clamor of competing voices; he is implored to accept 

Science (or ‘“‘Scientism’’), Marxism, Capitalism, Cartesianism, Atheistic Human- 

ism, Behaviorist Psychology, Positivism, Neo-thomism, and Consumerism, 

as well as any one of several dozen new, modern varieties of Christiamty. Often, 

we make a choice, frequently out of exhaustion, but oddly enough, when we 

choose, we always choose the close at hand, for we feel that there is something 

alien and irrelevant (and maybe unsafe) in a philosophy created by Orientals or 

someone else not more or less just like us. Lately, it is true, a few have turned to 

Zen or Tibetan Tantra, and a few have expressed admiration and respect for 

native American Indian beliefs, but these are still statistically rare. When a man 

gives his heart to some new philosophy, 1t is because his heart has been there all 

the time. There are few real converts. Thus, he turns to Marx, sensitivity training, 



‘xii —- Preface 



or Billy Graham. They are familiar and the change 1s not radical. So, here is 

Hua-yen to offer its voice. At one time, such a suggestion would have been 

intellectually risky, but Iam encouraged by certain developments in the last few 

decades, in the increasing interest in Whitehead’s process philosophy and mm the 

increasing willingness to consider the implications of Einstein's theory of rel- 

ativity, both of which bear startling similarities to Hua-yen, in great part if not 

wholly, and in spirit if not in language and intent. These developments have 

‘helped in no small way to make such a book as this feasible. 


The reader may be forewarned that Hua-yen thought 1s difficult to understand, 

and without a reasonably good grounding in the basics of Indian Buddhism, 

much of the richness and beauty of Hua-yen will be lost. I have tried to help by 

including one chapter on the most important Indian Buddhist ideas to have some 

effect on the formation of Hua-yen, but considerations of space preclude any 

more lengthy discussion. For the serious reader who wants to pursue Hua-yen 

as well armed as possible, I would recommend some of the excellent books on 

general Indian Buddhist ideas now in print. 


Buddhism has had a long and extraordinarily rich history, spanning 2,500 

years in time and half the globe we live on. From its birthplace in India, it has 

traveled steadily east to enrich the cultures of first China, then Japan. Now, it 

would seem that the movement has reached the troubled shores of America 

and Europe in the middle of the twentieth century, where serious groups of 

Western Buddhists have sprung up all over. The uninformed reader would 

undoubtedly be startled to learn just how many Buddhist groups there are 

now in. Europe and the United States. We are still in the position of saying and 

believing absurd things about this religion, the impact of which we are just 

now beginning to feel to any extent. Part of the value which this book may have 

lies in the fact that almost all (but not all) these forms of Buddhism look to 

Hua-yen for their philosophical foundation. This is particularly true of Zen, 

which is now the most widely spread form practiced. While Zen and some other 

forms are ‘‘practical”’ in that the main emphasis 1s on doing, rather than believing, 

reading, etc., the very truth which is the goal of this.practice is precisely the view 

of things taught in systematic fashion by Hua-yen. If we are to cease believing 

and saying the silly things we do about Buddhism, we will have to have a much 


_ better understanding not only of the things it does (i.e., meditation) but of its 

goal as well. One of the elements of this understanding 1s the Hua-yen description 

of the world as seen by the enlightened. If the reader can understand the Hua-yen 

vision of reality, he will be better able to understand not only the more profound 

experiences of his Chinese and Japanese brothers, but also of those closer Western 



‘ 



oN re mR A 



Preface — xiii 



brothers of his who have given their hearts and minds to Buddhism. Perhaps this 

is as good a reason as any for the following pages. 


The primary source for this book 1s a treatise called, in Chinese, Hua-yen 

i-ch’eng chiao i fen-ch’i chang. In the pages that follow, I will refer to it as the 

“Treatise.” It was composed by Fa-tsang, the third patriarch of the Hua-yen 

school, at the end of the seventh century. Although there are several versions 

of this text, I have chosen that of the Taisho Shinshi Daizékyd, which is the 

Japanese edition of the Chinese collection of Buddhist literature. It is an excellent 

text and any deviations from other versions which it shows are minor and 

inconsequential. This text is number 1866, in volume 45 of the Taisho edition, 

occupying pages 477-509. Wherever I have quoted from this text, I have 

indicated the source by showing the page and register within square brackets, 

thus [so2b], and such references are always only to the Treatise. Other sources 

will be cited in the notes. 


Ihave also relied heavily on three of the most useful commentaries on Fa-tsang’s 

Treatise for my own reading and mterpretation of the text. 



1. Kegon go kyo sho shiji ki, in three volumes, composed during the Nara 

period in Japan. It is the oldest of the commentaries in either Chinese or Japanese. 

The text exists in the Taisho Shinshu Daizokyo, in volume 72, Dai Nippon Bukkyo 

Zensho, volume 10, and Bukkyo Taikei, volumes 13 and 14. 


2. Tstro-ki, by the Japanese monk Gyonen. Only 39 of the original 72 volumes 

are extant. Texts are in the Taisho, volume 72, Dai Nippon Bukkyo Zensho, 

volumes 9 and 10, and in Bukkyo Taikei, volumes 13 and 14. 


3. Wu chiao chang fu ku chi, a Sung Dynasty commentary by Shih-hui. Texts 

exist in the Manji Zokuzokyo, 2.8.3, and in the Bukkyo Taikei, volume 14. 



I am indebted as well to the work of numerous Japanese scholars, for whom 

Hua-yen Buddhism is as familiar as, say, Methodism is for many in the United 

States. Their work, on historical and doctrinal matters, is indispensable to the 

study of Hua-yen. Wherever such a debt exists, I have so indicated. 


My debts are, as a matter of fact, almost as extensive as the interrelationships 

described in the Hua-yen treatises. Professor Minoru Kiyota, my friend and 

teacher, first made me aware of the importance and value of Hua-yen thought, 

and had he not encouraged me to look into it, as well as to learn the Japanese 

necessary for its study, there would be one fewer book on Buddhism. Professor 

Richard Robinson was a very severe critic, constantly asking those embarrassing 

questions which made me return to the Chinese again and again. His msistence 

always on accurate readings of primary source materials made success possible. 



xiv Preface 







His death in 1970 was a terrible loss for Buddhist Studies, as well as a personal

loss. A generous Fulbright Fellowship for study in Japan from 1966 to 1968

made it possible for me to acquire many hard-to-get materials, to have a year

and a half of luxurious time in which to do nothing but study Hua-yen literature,

and to meet and talk with authoritative Japanese experts. Among the latter,

Jam especially grateful for the friendly help and support of Professors Makita, 

Nagao Gadjin, and Kajiyama Yuichi, of Kyoto University, and my friend and 

fellow researcher Aramaki Noritoshi of the Institute for Humanistic Studies, 

Kyoto University. The memory of many fruttful and pleasant hours in their 

company 1s one of the few treasures I am greedy enough to hang on to. Finally, 

my wife Betty contributed immeasurably to my being able to pursue Buddhist 

Studies while in graduate school and in Japan. Though her help took many forms, 

it would have been invaluable if for no other reason than that she has always 

supported me in my belief that the study of Buddhism 1s worthwhile. My debts 

extend beyond these, also, but where do they end? May the help of all these 

earn them countless kalpas in the Tushita Heavens. 


An earlier work, C.C. Chang’s Buddhist Teaching of Totality, is the first full- 

length treatment of Hua-yen thought in a Western language, but I have several 

reservations about some of its interpretations. Yet it can be recommended for 

its sympathetic discussion of the general outlines of Hua-yen cosmology. The 

reader could do no better than to read it before taking up this book. 



Francis H. Cook 

University of California, Riverside 


1975 



1. The Jewel Net of Indra 



Western man may be on the brink of an entirely new understanding of the nature 

of existence. The work of classification and analysis which was born from the 

work of ancient Greek civilization has borne its fruit in the overwhelming success 

of Western man in manipulating the natural world, mcluding himself. This 

conquest and manipulation has proceeded without pause, each success engen- 

dering new possibilities and successes, and there 1s reason to believe that this 

manipulation and exploitation will continue. However, some have begun to 

wonder if we have not had too much success; the very virtuosity with which 

we manipulate the natural world has brought us, according to some critics, to 

the thin line separating success from terrible disaster. Only very recently has 

the word “ecology” begun to appear in our discussion, reflecting the arising of 

a remarkable new consciousness of how all things live in interdependence. The 

traditional methods of analysis, classification, and isolation tended to erect 

boundaries around things, setting them apart in groups and thereby making 

easier their manipulation, whether intellectually or technologically. The ecolog- 

ical. approach tends rather to stress the mterrelatedness of these same things. 

While not naively obliterating distinctions of property and function, 1t still views 

existence as a vast web of interdependencies in which if one strand is disturbed, 

the whole web 1s shaken. The ecological viewpoint has not, that 1s, brought into 

question the ancient distinctions of property and function which lie behind a 

brilliant technology. Honey bees and apple blossoms remain what they have 

always been in our eyes, but added to this way of knowimg 1s another, newer 

way—the knowledge that these entities need each other for survival itself. This 

understanding comes to us in the nature of a revelation; an eternally abiding 

truth has burst upon our consciousness, with an urgent message concerning our 

life. This new knowledge demands, in fact, a complete reassessment of the manner 

in which things exist. Perhaps this revelation is not yet closed, and in time we 

may come to perceive that this interdependency is not simply biological and 



2 Hua-yen Buddhism 



economic, a matter of bees and blossoms, or plankton and oxygen, but a vastly 

more pervasive and complicated interdependency than we have so far imagined. 


But this book 1s not about ecology, at least not directly, and not at all in the 

sense in which we now use the word. It presents a view of man, nature, and their 

relationship which might be called ecological in the more pervasive and compli- 

cated sense mentioned above, one which we might, in fact, call ‘“cosmic ecology.” 

It is a Buddhist system of philosophy which first appeared in a written, systematic 

form in China in the seventh century, and it was the characteristic teaching of 

what came to be known as the Hua-yen school of Buddhism. It is a view of 

existence which is for the most part alien to Western ways of looking at things, 

but it 1s a world view well worth consideration, not only as a beautiful artifact 

appealing to the esthetic sense, but perhaps as a viable basis for conduct, no less 

plausible than the traditional Western basis. 


We may begin with an image which has always been the favorite Hua-yen 

method of exemplifying the manner in which things exist. Far away in the 

heavenly abode of the great god Indra, there is a wonderful net which has been 

hung by some cunning artificer in such a manner that it stretches out infinitely 

in all directions. In accordance with the extravagant tastes of deities, the artificer 

has hung a single glittering jewel in each “‘eye” of the net, and since the net itself 

is infinite in dimension, the jewels are infinite in number. There hang the jewels, 

glittering like stars of the first magnitude, a wonderful sight to behold. If we now 

arbitrarily select one of these jewels for inspection and look closely at it, we will 

discover that in its polished surface there are reflected all the other jewels in the 

net, infinite in number. Not only that, but each of the jewels reflected in this one 

Jewel 1s also reflecting all the other jewels, so that there is an infinite reflecting 

process occurring. The Hua~yen school has been fond of this image, mentioned 

many times in its literature, because it symbolizes a cosmos in which there is an 

infinitely-repeated interrelationship among all the members of the cosmos. This 

relationship is said to be one of simultaneous mutual identity and mutual inter- 

causality. 


If we take ten coins as symbolizing the totality of existence and examine the 

relationship existing among them, then, according to Hua-yen teaching, con 

one will be seen as being identical with the other nine coins. Simultaneously, 

coin two will be seen as being identical with the other nine coms, and so on 

throughout the collection of coins.-Thus, despite the fact that the coins may be 

of different denominations, ages, metals, and so on, they are said to be completely 

identical. This is said to be'the static relationship of the coins. If we take these same 

ten coins again and examine their dynamic relationship, then, according to the 

Hua-~yen masters, they will be seen as being totally interdependent or intercausal 



nas 



The Jewel Net of Indra 3 



(depending on point of view). Seen in this way, coin one is said to be the cause 

for the totality of coms which are considered as being dependent on the first coin 

for their being. Coin one, that is, is the support, while the total group is that which 

is supported. Since that particular totality could not exist without the support of 

coin one, that coin is said to be the sole cause for the totality. However, if we shift 

our attention to coin two and now examine its relationship to the other nine 

coins, the same can now be said of this coin. It 1s the sole cause for the existence of 

the totality of ten coins. From the standpoint of each of the ten coins, it can be 

said that that coin is the sole cause for the whole. However, the cause-result 

relationship 1s even more fluid than this, for while each com can, from the stand- 

point of the one coin, be said to act as sole cause for the whole, simultaneously 

the whole acts as cause for the one coin in question, for the coin only exists and 

has any function at all within the total environment. It can never be a question 

of the coin existing outside its environment, because since the ten coins symbolize 

the totality of being, a com outside the context of the ten coins would be a 

nonentity: Thus each individual is at once the cause for the whole and is caused 

by the whole, and what 1s called existence is a vast body made up of an infinity 

of individuals all sustaining each other and defining each other. The cosmos 1s, 

in short, a self-creating, self-maintaining, and self-defining organism. Hua-yen 

calls such a universe the dharma-dhatu, which we may translate as “cosmos” or 

“universe” if we wish, with the proviso that it 1s not the universe as commonly 

imagined, but rather the Hua~yen universe of identity and interdependence. 

Such a universe is not at all familiar to Western people. The Judeo-Christian 

religious tradition and the Greek philosophical tradition have bequeathed to 

their posterity a view of existence very much different from that conceived by 

the Chinese. It differs in several respects. First, it has been, and to some extent 

still 1s, a universe which must be explained in terms of a divine plan, with respect 

to both its beginning and its end. The Hua-yen world 1s completely nonteleolog- 

ical. There is no theory of a beginning time, no concept of a creator, no question 

of the purpose of it all. The universe 1s taken as a given, a vast fact which can be 

explained only in terms of its own inner dynamism, which 1s not at all unlike the 

view of twentieth-century physics. Moreover, our familiar world is one in which 

relationships are rather limited and special. We have blood relationships, marital 

relationships, relationships with a genus or species, relationships in terms of 

animate and inanimate, and the like, but it is hard for us to imagine how anything 

1s related to everything else. How am I related to a star in Orion ? How am T even 

related to an Eskimo in Alaska, except through the tenuous and really nonopera- 

tive relationship of species? I certainly don’t feel related to these other things. 

In short, we find it much easier to think n terms of isolated beings, rather than one 



4 Hua-yen Buddhism 



Being. Being is just that, a unity of existence in which numerically separate 

entities are all interrelated in a profound manner. Beings are thought of as 

autonomous, isolated within their own skms, each independent by and large 

from all the rest of the beings (both animate and inanimate). The “mystic”? who 

speaks of identity with such things as animals, plants, and inanimate objects, as 

well as other men, is an object of ridicule. The Hua-yen universe 1s essentially 

a universe of identity and total intercausality; what affects one item 1n the vast 

inventory of the cosmos affects every other individual therein, whether it is 

death, enlightenment, or sin. Finally, the Western view of existence 1s one of 

strict hierarchy, traditionally one in which the creator-god occupies the top rung 

in the ladder of being, man occupies the middle space, and other animals, plants, 

rocks, etc., occupy the bottom. Even with the steady erosion of religious interest 

in the West, where the top rung of the ladder has for many become empty, there 

still exists the tacit assumption that man 1s the measure of all things, that this is 

his universe, that somehow the incalculable history of the vast universe is essen- 

tially a human. history. The Hua-yen universe, on the other hand, has no 

hierarchy. There 1s no center, or, perhaps if there is one, it 1s everywhere. Man 

certainly is not:the center, nor is some god. 


It must be admitted that the traditional anthropocentric universe has begun to 

fade under the careful scrutiny of people who are not sentimentalists or who do 

not childishly seek security in baseless assumptions. A physicist, or a philosopher 

such as Whitehead, would have to admit that comfortable old concepts such as 

the distinction of subject and object, or that of agent and act, metaphysical 

entities such as souls and selves, or even more fundamental notions such as the 

absoluteness of time and space, are untenable in the light of objective and serious 

inquiry. The Western world is alive with new ideas, but so far these ideas have 

not trickled down to the mass consciousness. Most people still have a deep faith 

in solid substances and believe that their feelings, ideas, and even their own bodies 

belong to, or inhere in, some mysterious but seemingly irrefutable substance 

called a self. 


It has been said that you cannot kill an idea, but it 1s even more difficult to see 

a new idea get a hearing in the community of men. Shrinking from a reality 

which he assumes will demean him, man hangs on to his old habits of thought, 

which are really prejudices, just as he clung to his security blanket in his crib. 

The anthropocentric bias, particularly, has appeared in one form or another down 

through Western history. It is of course endemic in the Hebraic and Chnistian 

traditions, and it has also given rise to dreadful philosophy for a period of hundreds 

of years—in Cartesianism, with its affirmation of human consciousness and its 

view of dead nature, in the “Great Chain of Being” of the eighteenth-century 



The Jewel Net of Indra 5 



‘philosophers, and even today among the positivists, in whom we detect a posi- 



tivism which shrinks from taking the ultimate step in its positivism. The most 

ingemious attempts of Western thinkers to erect a satisfying picture of existence 

has resulted, in short, in a not too surprising conclusion that while he 1s less than 

a god, he stands just. below the angels, superior to and apart from all other things. 

One may ask whether this conclusion has not risen out of a pathetic self-deception. 


It isa truism that a culture reveals its fundamental assumptions and presupposi- 

tions 1n its art forms, and it is partly for this reason that the study of art is so 

rewarding. In European art, at least up to the advent of the Romantic movement, 

a representative, and perhaps dominant, genre has been the portrait. To walk 

through the rooms of a large art museum 1s to receive an eloquent testimonial 

concerning the preoccupation of Western man for the last several hundred years. 

If we examine one of these paintings, we find that it will be dominated by a face 

or several faces. The artist has drawn upon every resource of his genius and 

materials to render the face realistic, lifelike. It 1s invariably grave and composed, 

befitting a person who had no doubts as to his worth in the general scheme of 

things. Are ye not of more worth than many sparrows? Yes, of course! Every 

quirk of personality 1s here, along with the warts, bumps, hollows, and spidery 

lines of much frowning and laughing. The clothes, too, are lovingly painted; 

we have, in gazing at the portrait, an almost tactile sense of the stiffness and 

roughness of lace, the suave, warm plushness of velvet, and rich, hard luxury of 

silk. Rings, brooches, and pendants garnish the figure, glinting weightily with 

gold and silver. The skillful use of chiaroscuro bestows on the figure the roundness 

and solidity of life. But there is something else too, though we are in danger of 

overlooking 1t in our justified concentration on the grand face and figure domi- 

nating the canvas. Over the shoulder of the subject we detect a tiny fragment of 

world, perhaps seen through the tiny window of the lord’s palace. If we do not 

look sharply, it may not even register on our consciousness, but in its own way, 

it is an important part of the picture for it tells us much. It occupies, 1n some 

paintings, only a hundredth part of the whole canvas, or, if it fills in the back- 

ground, the coloring and style are such that the scene serves only as an unobtrusive 

backdrop for the real focal point of the picture. It is there for several reasons; it 

helps the painter avoid a dull and unimaginative background for the human 

foreground; it often contains symbols which help us ‘‘read” the meaning of 

the painting; or 1t defines and places in its correct context (seventeenth-century 

Florence, the world, etc.) the true subject. However, all these uses of the natural 

world add up to one; it serves as a backdrop for the human drama, which 1s not 

only what painting is about but what the universe is all about. Man still dwells 

comfortably in the pre-Copernican universe, where the world is a stage created 



6 ~~ Hua-yen Buddhism 



for the most smportant of dramas, the human one. Even in the nineteenth century, 

when painters turned their attention to natural scenes as intrinsically valuable, 

the romantics tended to invest their scenery with human emotions and values 

and to see the natural only in a human frame of reference. They betray, however 

subtly, what critics have called the “pathetic fallacy,” the tendency to read human 

values into nature and to sentimentalize it. Whenever Western painters have 

taken up the brush or chisel, they have revealed this abiding belief in a hierarchical 

existence in which the human ranks only slightly below the divine. 


To see that this is not a universal penchant and to simultaneously see a portrait 

of the universe as experienced by another part of the human family, we might 

briefly turn to the Oriental wing of our art museum. In the art of the Far East 

we see few faces—an empress or two, a few high-ranking Buddhist monks at 

most. We see mainly landscapes, done in black ink on silk or paper, for just as 

portraiture and human events are the dominant Western concern, the landscape 

is dominant in Oriental art. Yet humans are there in the landscapes, along with 

their homes, occupations, and diversions. But if one were to walk quickly past 

the scrolls, these figures would be almost, or completely, overlooked, for they 

do not’stand out in the paintings. In fact, no one part of the scene dominates the 

others. The scene is one of mountains, trees, a stream or lake, perhaps a small 

hut barely visible in the trees, and a small human figure or two. The mountains 

recede mto the hazy distance, suggesting great spaces, and while the scene is 

tranquil and serene, there is nevertheless the strong suggestion of a living vitality, 

a breathing life. The viewer is struck by a sense of continuity among the various 

elements of the scene, in which all are united in an organic whole. The humans 

in the picture, which are almost always there, have their rightful place in this 

scene, but only their rightful place as one part of the whole. Nature here 1s not 

a background for man; man and nature are blended together harmoniously. 

Even this way of analyzing the scene distorts the situation; we see only being 

itself in its totality, “man” beimg merely one isolatable element of no more or 

less prominence than a tree or a bird. Are ye not of more worth than many 

sparrows? No. 


These two examples of art reveal, I suggest, two different ways of under- 

standing not only man’s place in the total scheme of things, but the basic structure 

of existence in general. The humanistic or anthropocentric orientation of the 

first painting is clearly in sharp contrast with the landscape, assuming the status 

of a self-evident presupposition. The humanistic bias of the former also reflects 

a tacit assumption that being is organized in a Inerarchical manner, in which 

some parts of existence—notably the divine and human—stand above other 



The Jewel Net of Indra 7 



parts, with all the rights and privileges pertaining thereof. Man often resembles 

Warty Bliggens, the toad, in Don Marquis’ poem: 



i met a toad 


the other day by the name 

of warty bliggens 


he was sitting under 


a toadstool 


feeling contented 


he explained that when the cosmos 

was created 

that toadstool was especially 

planned for his personal 

shelter from sun and rain 

thought out and prepared 

for him 


do not tell me 


said warty bliggens 


that there is not a purpose 

in the universe 


the thought 1s blasphemy 


a little more 


conversation revealed 


that warty bliggens 

considers himself to be 


the center of the said 

universe 


the earth exists 


to grow toadstools for him 

to sit under 


the sun to give him light 

by day and the moon 


and wheeling constellations 

to make beautiful 


the night for the sake of 

warty bliggens* 



Historically there has been little doubt on the part of Western man that he does 



8  Hua-yen Buddhism 



stand apart from, and superior to, all else. When he gazes out at the creation, he 

sees a reality which is primarily broken and fragmented, with none of the conti- 

nuity and interrelatedness which we observed in the Chinese landscape, and of 

course this discontinuity, or alienation, exists mainly for him and his confronta- 

tion with the other. This would be of merely academic interest were it not for 

the fact that such a view is said to cause the individual to suffer greatly. 


Now, while there seems to be a fundamental difference in the way Western 

and Eastern people regard experience, let it not be assumed that a Chinese or 

Japanese is born into the world with a vision of identity and interdependence. 

Buddhism was founded by an Indian and the Hua-yen school was a product of 

Chinese experience; both were taught to help Oriental people, who suffer from 

the same existential plight that Western people do. Human beings are basically 

the same in the manner in which they organize experience through recurrent 

training, learning to make sense out of what William James spoke ofas a “‘bloom- 

ing, buzzing confusion:” However, Buddhism did arise in the East, indicating 

that there 1s a tendency to see things as described by Hua-yen. Conversely, the 

tendency in the West has been to analyze rather than unify, to discriminate rather 

than see all as one, to make distinctions rather than see all qualities within each 

datum of experience. But the truth of the matter is that the universe as described 

in Hua-yen documents 1s the world as seen by enlightened individuals, Buddhas, 

and not by ordinary folk of any race, time, or geographic area. Thus the Hua-yen 

vision is not at all self-evident, even to a Chinese philosopher. The message of 

Buddhism is claimed to be universal; since all men suffer in the same basic way, 

the cure is universally beneficial. 


The Chinese landscapes described above can be thought of as plastic duplicates 

of Hua-yen philosophy, in the sense that both attempt to express a vision of the 

manner in which things exist. What 1s clear from both is that there is a great 

emphasis on the relatedness of things, and as was mentioned, this relationship 

is the dual one of identity and interdependence. This matter of relationship is 

extremely important, and perhaps the most important difference between the 

Hua-yen view of things and the ordinary view is that people ordinarily think 

and experience in terms of distinct, separate entities, while Hua-yen conceives of 

experience primarily in terms of the relationships between these same entities. 

Itas sumply a question of fundamental, basic reality; 1s it separate parcels of matter 

(or mental objects) or 1s 1t relationship? It is interesting in this regard to see that 

a great number of Western physicists have now drawn the conclusion, based on 

the implications of Einstein’s theories, that relationship 1s the more fundamental. 

As one physicist has remarked, if all the matter in the universe less one bundle of 

matter ceased to exist, the mass of the remaining parcel of matter (and hence its 



The Jewel Net of Indra 9 



existence) would be reduced to nothing, the implication being that mass 1s a 

function of total environment and dependent on it.2 Nonetheless, in the seventh 

century, Fa-tsang and other Hua~yen masters taught that to exist in any sense at 

all means to exist in dependence on the other, which is infinite in number. 

Nothing exists truly in and of itself, but requires everything to be what it is. 


Previously, in examining the relationship existing among ten coins, it was 

said that any one coin is identical with all the other coins. The reader has undoubt- 

edly heard of this business of identity before, Oh yes, the Mysterious East has 

this obsession with Identity. We smile to think of the yogi walking through the 

jungle meditating on the sameness of things and being pounced upon and eaten 

by areal, unmystical tiger. So much for identity, we say, in the belief that we 

have disposed of any nonsense about identity. Or, like the cynic in Orwell’s 

Animal Farm, we may grant that things are all equal, but some things are more 

equal than others. Things seem to be very unequal, radically nonidentical. But 

the Hua-yen masters were not mystics, and while agreeing that there were men 

and tigers, eaters and eaten, they could insist on identity anyway. Let us turn to 

another example of identity in an attempt to see in what way things are just what 

they are and yet identical. 


We might take the example of a human body as a kind of organic whole 

similar to the totality analyzed by Hua-yen. Here too we can agree that there 

are distinctions in form and function among the constituents of the whole body. 

My ears do not look like my toes, and I cannot see with my elbow. Ears detect 



- sounds, my stomach digests food, my nose detects odors and helps me to breathe. 



We do not confuse the parts; we know where everything 1s and what it does. It 

1s equally evident that what we call the body is an organism made up of all these 

parts, and normally the parts do not exist apart from the body. (The body 

analogy breaks down in this matter because a toe can be severed from the body 

and continue to exist. However, taking the cosmos as a totality, this would not 

happen, since the disappearance of something from the totality would be tanta- 

mount to its having become a nonentity.) If we now look into the relationship 

between any one part of the body and the whole body, 1t will be obvious that we 

are really discussing the relationship between this one part and all other parts, 

whether considered individually or collectively. 


Let us examine the place of the nose, being prominent and therefore seeming 

to offer itself for inspection. In what sense is 1t identical with my body or with any 

other part of the body? The Hua-yen argument is really very simple; what we 

call the whole 1s nothing apart from the individuals which make up that whole. 

Thus the nose, in being integrated perfectly into the configuration we calla body, 

not only acts as a condition without which there could be no body, but in fact 



10  Hua-yen Buddhism 



becomes or 1s the body. I can therefore point to my nose and say, ‘“This is my 

body,” and there will be no disagreement, with the possible exception that 

someone might say, “It is only a part of your body.” This is true; 1t 1s a part of 

my body, but at the same time it is my body. To insist that it is only a part is to 

fall into a fallacious view of the whole as an independent and subsisting entity 

to which parts belong. The bell tower on the Riverside campus of the University 

of California is not something which 1s added to an already existent campus. 

It is the campus. Thus the part and the whole in this sense are one and the same 

thing, for what we identify as a part 1s merely an abstraction from a unitary whole. 


But in what way can it be said that the nose is identical with my left elbow? 

We may understand that in a sense a part is identical with the whole as a whole, 

but identifying part with part raises difficulties, for the two parts look different, 

are spatially distinct, and perform different functions. The postulation of identity 

does not remove these distinctions, and Hua-yen insists that not only are things 

both identical and different, but, paradoxically, that they are identical because 

they are different. In other words, to have the body I now have, I need a nose 

which is between my eyes and has the office of detecting odors, an elbow which 

bends in a certain way, allowing me to write and the like, a heart m my chest 

which pumps blood, and so on. If everything was literally a nose, I would be 

Just one immense nose; in fact, I could not be “‘me”’ for even one second. Thus 

each individual 1s required in its own unique form, with its own unique function, 

to act as a condition for the whole in question. The identity of the nose and the 

left elbow consists in their identity as conditions for the whole. Therefore, while 

the two are different, they are the same; in fact, they are identical precisely because 

they are different. Seen in this light, then, when the nose is understood for what 

itis, the whole body is known; when we know the nature of the body, we know 

what the nose 1s. For this reason, Hua-yen can say that ten thousand Buddhas can 

be seen preaching on the tip of a single hair. In other words, the one truth which 1s 

common of all things (ten thousand Buddhas) is evident in the tip of the hair once 

we know its place in the whole. 


The reader is bound, at this point, to interpose in exasperation, ‘‘Very well, 

they are all the same as conditions, but nevertheless, life and death don’t appear to 

be the same to me!” Certainly they seem different. One moment the loved one 

is talking with us, his cheeks pink with life, loving and caring for us, and the next 

moment he lies still, pale in death, never more to laugh, love, or care again. Is 

there no difference? Does nothing happen when the hard-headed, practical tiger 

eats the mystical yogi? B 


Yes, of course something happens, the Hua-yen Buddhist agrees that some- 

thing does. The yogi really dies and becomes part of the uger (though this is 



The Jewel Net of Indra 11 



not the kind of identity insisted upon by Hua-yen). Now, we may go out and 



‘shoot the tiger so he won’t eat any more people, but we are still left confronting 



the question of the place of tigers in the world, and our attitude here is going to 

determine whether our own private existence 1s going to bea success or a failure. 

It is the human habit to reject such things as hungry tigers, or their equivalents— 

cancer, bullets, or the slow, insidious, but equally effective tiger of old age. We 

would have nothing but sunshine, sweet wine, eternal youth, and endless satis- 

factory amours. Intellectually we know that tigers are real and do exist, but 

emotionally we reject them with fear and loathing, and we would rather that 

they did not exist. They are somehow intruders in the sacred circle of life, foreign 

agents sent to subvert our happiness. They are antilife. It 1s this very picking and 

choosing which brings back upon ourselves anxiety, fear, and turmoil, for by 

dividing up the one unitary existence into two parts, the good and the bad, we 

distort the reality which 1s the one unitary existence. That 1s, we blind ourselves 

to the fact that existence in its totality 1s both life and death, success and failure, 

health and sickness. Tigers are not foreign intruders but facts of life. 


Both life and death are part of the one everchanging process we call being 

(which 1s really a “‘becoming”’) and thus both are conditions for that being. To 

see things in a totalistic perspective means to transcend a small, pathetic subjec- 

tivity and see all the pernicious, vexing contraries harmonized within the whole. 

As D.T. Suzuki said in his commentary on Basho’s haiku 



Lice, fleas— 

The horse pissing 

Beside my pillow 



the real world 1s a world of lice as well as butterflies, horse piss as well as vintage 

champagne, and to the person who has truly realized this, one 1s as good as the 

other.? To insist otherwise 1s to make an impious demand of existence which it 

is unwilling and unable to satisfy. The ‘‘ugly” things of life exist, and the only 

question 1s how we are to confront them. The romantic hero smashing himself 

to pleces against the stone wall of necessity has never found favor in Asian 

literature. 


This matter of identity can be explored in more depth if we turn to the matter 

of interdependence again, for the two relationships are so inextricably related 

themselves that one cannot be understood without the other. In returning to 

the nose, let us examine it in its dynamic relationship with the body-totality. 

Now, this humble organ 1s, according to Hua-yen, the total cause for the rest of 

the body. Since, as was pointed out, the “‘rest” is an assemblage of parts, this 



oa 



12 Hua-yen Buddhism 



means that the nose causes my right elbow, my left knee, and so on. This 1s, 

admuttedly, a highly unusual way of looking at a nose, and it 1s true that if in 

this analysis of cause and result we stopped completely with the assertion that 

the nose causes the body, this would be a very questionable assertion indeed. 

Moving from this example to the Hua-yen cosmos, this would be tantamount 

to saying that a drop of water in the Nile River is the cause for the whole universe. 

Mysticism indeed! But the issue of one sole causal agent is not being discussed 

here, and, in fact, part of the function of Hua-yen thought is to destroy the 

fiction of a sole causal agent. The apparent absurdity of arguing that the nose 

causes the rest of my body arises from the sheer necessity of examining the rela- 

tionship of each part of the whole to the whole in a linear manner, one part at a 

time in sequence. If we move to another part of the body, the left index finger, 

let us say, we can now assert that the finger is the cause for the body. This does 

not cancel out the causal function of the nose; the reality of the situation is that 

any part can be said to assume the role of total cause when the relationship 1s 

examined purely from the point of view of the one part being examined. At 

this point, 1t might be assumed that the Hua-yen masters are making a rather 

commonplace observance, that a whole is the result of the collaboration of many 

individual parts each exerting its own partial causal power. However, this 1s 

not the case, and Fa-tsang, in his Hua-yen i-ch’eng chiao i fen-ch’i chang, says that 

if this were the case, 



there would be the errors of annihilatiomism and eternalism. If [each part] 

does not wholly cause [the whole] to be made and only exerts partial power, 

then each condition would only have partial power. They would consist 

only of many individual partial powers and would not make one whole, 

which is annihilationism. .. . Also, if [the part] does not wholly create [the 

whole], then when one [part] 1s removed, the [whole] should remain. 

However, since the whole is not formed, then you should understand that 



the [whole] is not formed by the partial power [of a condition] but by its 

* total power.* 



Thus according to the Hua-yen school, the part exerts total power in the formation 

of a particular whole. 


In a later chapter devoted to intercausality alone, the problem of sole causal 

power residing in any mdividual part will be discussed in more detail. Here, ina 

general description of the Hua~yen world view, it will suffice to say that when we 

move to every part of the body, to every organ, limb, cell, or subcellular particle, 

and in each case analyze the relationship of that part to the whole body, it can 



The Jewel Net of Indra 13 



: be sard that that part of the whole is the sole cause for the whole. When referring 



to causality, Hua-yen is not making the naive assertion that first there is, let us 

say, a nose, and then later the rest of the body comes into existence as a result of 

the prior condition of the nose. Time 1s not involved, nor is there a question of 

production of a result from a cause in a progressive series of events. The real 

question concerns the relationship existing between simultaneously existing 

individuals. Whether a totality is composed of two parts, a million parts, or an 

infinity of parts, causality in the sense meant by Hua-yen refers to a relationship 

among present entities. 


The totality we have been looking at 1s nothing more than a number of 

simultaneously existing individuals, and since the relationship of support and 

supported always exists between any one individual and all other individuals, 

or the whole, it would seem clear that not only does the individual support the 

whole, but upon a more complete investigation it can be seen that what 1s a 

cause or support from one point of view 1s result or the supported from another. 

The categories of support and supported, or cause and result, are completely 

fluid and interchangeable, becoming either as the point of view shifts. It is the 

necessity of point of view which in fact obscures the real status of the individuals 

which comprise the whole. They are all s1multaneously cause and result, or 

support and supported, for this 1s precisely the picture of existence which Hua- 

yen hopes-to describe: a universe which is nothing but the complete mutual 

cooperation of the entities which make it up. 


It may be well to try to clarify the sense in which Hua-yen uses the term 

“cause” at this point. The description of the intercausal or interdependent nature 

of the parts of the body illustrates the magnitude of the relationships as well as 



9? 66 



the nature of that relationship, but the meanings of “cause, condition,” 

“support,” and other terms have not been discussed at much length. As has already 

been mentioned, “‘cause” is not used here in the popularly understood sense of 

a temporal sequence of events in which if an antecedent event is present, a sub- 

sequent event will occur. Perhaps the Hua-yen use of the term will become 

clearer if we resort to a model ofan even simpler kind. Let us take a tripod. If we 

bind three poles together near one end and then stand the three poles up on out- 

spread legs, the tripod will remain standing. Here the tripod is a whole, which 

is of course composed of parts. If, now, one of the poles is removed, the other 

two poles will topple over. This toppling action is not meant, however, to show 

what happens to the whole when a part 1s removed, but rather shows that in 

order to be that whole it needs this one pole. Obviously the universe does not 

collapse when one individual member dies, but it is no longer that particular 

whole it was when the individual survived. Now, if we label the three poles 



14 Hua-yen Buddhism 



a, b, and c and remove pole a, the falling of the remaining two poles shows that 

from the point of view of a, it has complete power to form the tripod. However, 

if we turn our attention to pole 6, now that pole, from the new point of view, 

is said to be completely responsible for the whole tripod. What has happened to 

a? Seen from the point of view of pole 8, 1t is result, or that which 1s supported. 

Since a tripod is three interdependent poles, each of the three parts is simulta- 

neously acting as cause or support for the whole tripod and yet is indubitably 

part of a whole which 1s being supported. 


It 1s to be admitted that the term ‘‘cause” 1s being used in an unusual manner 

in these examples, since what is evident 1s that these are all examples of what 

mught better be called mterdependency or mutual conditionedness. Yet, Fa-tsang 

and other Hua-yen masters do use the word “‘cause,” and the Hua-yen universe 

is a universe of self-causation. The traditional term to describe such a situation 

1s fa~chiai yiian-ch’i, which seems to be a translation of the Sanskrit dharma 

dhatu pratitya-samutpada, translated either as the “interdependent arising of the 

universe,” or, perhaps better, the “interdependent arising which is the universe,” 

since all that exists 1s part of the one great scheme of interdependency. Bertrand 

Russell said that the only reasonable definition of cause would be the sum total 

of all existent conditions, in the sense that any event will occur unless any one of 

the available conditions fails. It is in this sense that we should understand the 

Hua-yen use of the word, for in the Hua-yen universe, the individual will be, 

and will perform its function, unless some other individual withdraws its support. 


One of the most important implications of such a view is that every single 

thing:in the universe comes to have an important place in the scheme of things. 

In the ‘‘Great Barn,” every rafter, shingle, and nail is important, for where can 

we find a barn apart from these things? This apparently insignificant shingle 

I see there in the building is a necessary condition for the barn, and in fact, it is 

the barn. Yet, what do we mean by “‘shingle’’? It 1s not a shingle outside the 

context of the barn of which it is a part, for “shingle” only has meaning in its 

proper context. It 1s true that there is no building without this little shingle, but 

it is equally evident that “shingle” has neither existence nor meaning outside 

the barn of which it 1s a part. They make and define each other. 


To make one more analogy in a rather long series of analogies, existence 1s 

something like an old-fashioned American square dance. In the square dance, 

what I am and what I do are completely defined by my inclusion in the square 

dance, for obviously I am nothing apart from st. My being, and my office, can 

be seen as being nothing but functions of the dance in which I exist. However, 

where is the square dance without me, and “I” am every member of the dance? 

Tam the square dance. Thus we have a profound, crucial relationship here; that 



The Jewel Net of Indra 15 



Iam, and that I am defined in a certain way, 1s completely dependent on the other 



individuals who comprise the dance, but this dance itself has no existence apart 



from the dancer. The Buddhist, in viewmg things as being interdependent in 

this manner, comes to have, ideally, a profound feeling of gratitude and respect 

for things, however humble they may appear to people who do not share his 

understanding, for 1n some manner that eludes the rest of us, he is aware that 

what he 1s depends utterly upon them. 


Having taken this brief look at the doctrine of interdependence, we may now 

return to the matter of identity, as perhaps more problematic than the matter of 

interdependence. Yet, there is finally no real problem, because “‘identity”’ 1s only 

another way of saying ‘‘interdependent’’; they are one and the same. The point 

to the doctrine of mterdependence is that things exist only in interdependence, 



.for things do not exist in their own right. In Buddhism, this manner of existence 



is called “emptiness” (Sanskrit Sunyata). Buddhism says that things are empty in 

the sense that they are absolutely lacking in a self-essence (svabhava) by virtue of 

which things would have an independent existence. In reality, their existence 

derives strictly from interdependence. If things possessed essences or substances 

of a metaphysical nature, then there truly would be real, ultimate differences 

between things. However, if each experiential datum, whether material or 

mental, derives its existence and meaning purely through its dependence on 

everything else, then it is not ultimately unique at all, but must be seen as identical 

with everything else in its emptiness. Thus to be identical with everything else 

means to share in the universal interdependence, or intercausality, of all that 

exists. If the reader objects that he still perceives a vast difference between good 

and evil, or Buddhas and ordinary folk, or life and death, he need not be surprised, 

for to be human means to perceive these differences. However, the Buddha 

insisted that to be attached to these meanings in such a manner brought disaster 

to the individual. It is the perennial teaching of Buddhism that such attachment 

will fill his heart with desire and loathing, make his life a ceaseless hell of turmoil 

(duhkha), madden him, and finally send him to his grave confused, bitter, and 

afraid. 


Identity can be thought of as the static relationship among things, while 

interdependence is the dynamic relationship; they are two sides of the same coin, ; 

and both are alternate ways of saying that all is empty (sarvam Sunyam). It 1s on 

the basis of this doctrine of emptiness that Hua-yen insists on a totalistic view of 

things. Totalism has two meanings. First, it means that all things are contained 

in each individual. The nose, in its identity and interdependence with the rest 

of the body, takes in the whole body, for whatever is true in the ultimate sense 

concerning the nose is also true of the whole body. If we know reality in the form 



16 -Hua-yen Buddhism 



of one phenomenon, then we know all of reality. It is for this reason that Hua- 

yen can make the seemingly outrageous claim that the whole universe is contained 

in a grain of sand. However, not only does the one contain the all, but at the same 

time, the all contains the one, for the individual is completely integrated into its 

environment. 


Second, totalism refers to a manner of experiencing events in which room is 

allowed for all kinds of events, and in which nothing is excluded as alien or “‘bad,” 

as was discussed earlier. This is difficult to accept for the person unaccustomed 

to Eastern thought, for it demands of him that he make room not grudgingly 

or fatalistically, but joyously and with profound gratitude, for the horse urine 

and lice that do in fact coexist with fine champagne and beautiful butterflies. 

The totalistic view sees these as no less real, and no less wonderful, once we have 

transcended a petty, partial view of existence in which our comfort and unslakable 

thirst determine what has and has not a right to exist. In the totalistic universe, 

which is one organic body of interacting parts, 1t 1s an act of self-defeating madness 

to insist on a never-ending diet of vintage champagne, sunshine, and laughter, 

and to insist vehemently and with no small amount of hubris that urine, darkness, 

and tears be banished forever. In every contest, there has to be of necessity both 

a winner and a loser (granting an occasional draw), and all that Hua-yen asks 1s 

that we-realize, and appreciate, the fact that we cannot ever have one without the 

other. The partial view would have only one or the other; the totalistic view 

sees that the two always go together. 


The totalistic world as described by Hua-yen 1s a living body in which each 

cell derives its life from all the other cells, and in return gives life to those many 

others. Like the human body, the Hua-yen universe 1s ever changing, for in it 

there is not one thing which is static and unchanging, unless it is the law of 

perpetual change itself. It is an incredible stream of activity wherein when one 

circumstance alters, everything alters with it. ““Do I dare to eat a peach?”’ asks 

one of T.S. Eliot’s characters, and the question of action becomes an extremely 

delicate one to the individual who sees the fantastic teraction of things. Thus 

in a universe which 1s pure fluidity, or process, no act can but have an effect on 

the whole, just as a pebble tossed into a pool sends waves out to the farthest shore 

and stirs the very bottom. This is hard to see. We can comprehend how a modi- 

fication in one small part of our body can affect the total organism, but we find 

it hard to believe that the enlightenment of one monk under a tree in India some- 

how enlightens us all, or, conversely, that my own intransigent ignorance is a 

universal ignorance. However, if we can comprehend that the greater whole of 

which the body is a part is no less organic, and no less interrelated, such an idea 



ce 


be 



The Jewel Net of Indra 17 



" isnotso unlikely. At that pomt, the moral life as conceived by Buddhism becomes 



possible. 


University students today do not find the Buddhist concepts of emptiness and 

interdependent existence (which are the same thing) difficult to understand, as 

they might have been a generation ago and more. Much more conversant, if 

even in an elementary way, with scientific and philosophical trends, they can 

see fairly easily that the very old Western assumptions about substances, selves, 

agents, and the like, are no longer tenable, or are at least open to serious doubt. 

Their intellectual world 1s a different one from that of even the previous genera- 

tion. They feel much more at home with such startling concepts as the unified 

field and the ecosphere. They have begun to appreciate, however dimly, that in 

some real sense, everything 1s alive and exerting its influence on everything else, 

that even dead things are alive. They agree with the Cheyenne chief Old Lodge 

Skins in the novel Little Big Man, who, asked if he hates white people, says, 



“No. ... But now I understand them. I no longer believe they are fools or 

crazy. know now that they do not drive away the buffalo by mistake or acci- 

dentally set fire to the prairie with their fire-wagon or rub out Human 

Beings because of misunderstanding. No, they want to do these things, 

and they succeed in doing them. They are a powerful people.” He took 

something from his beaded belt at that point and, stroking it, said: “Th¢ 

Human Beings believe that everything 1s alive: not only men and anima 

but also water and earth and stones and also the dead things from therk 

like this hair. The person from whom this hair came 1s bald on the Other 

Side because I now own his scalp. This is the way things are. 


‘But white people believe that everything 1s dead: stones, earth, animals, 



and people, even their own people. And if, in spite of that, things persist in 

995 



trying to live, white people will rub them out. 



We have for a long time smiled at such assertions as being the superstitions of 

“primitive” people, preliterate, simple folk who have a tendency to invest every- 

thing with spirits. Yet people far more sophisticated (according to our usual 

standards) have said as much. Faraday, over a hundred years ago, made the 

startling remark that an electric charge must be considered to exist everywhere, 

and Alfred North Whitehead, commenting on this statement, paraphrased it by 

saying that “‘the modification of the electromagnetic field at every point of space 

at each instant owing to the past history of each electron 1s another way of stating 

the same fact.”’® Faraday, the American Indian, and the Buddhists of the Hua- 



ISPREUSSi 

CHE 

KULTUR Besmra 



18 Hua-yen Buddhism 



yen are all, in their own way, making the observation that nature 1s.not at all 

dead, but rather is most vital. It is certainly not a case of animism or spiritism, 

but, whatever may be the basis, a realization that even things commonly thought 

to be dead or manimate exert a continual, cructal influence on each other. 


The work of earlier physicists such as Faraday and Maxwell, and later men such 

as Einstein, as well as Whitehead with his process philosophy, and others, have 

all laid the groundwork for an entirely new understanding of the nature of 

existence, and this understanding 1s gradually beginning to filter down to the 

layman. Thus, as I remarked earlier, the intellectual grasp of such Buddhist 

concepts as emptiness and interdependence has become much easier and much 

more prevalent, so that the university student 1s not absolutely baffled by these 

ideas. So much that 1s in the air in Western thought coincides in general outline 

with Hua-yen cosmology that what might have once passed for bad thinking 

by Oriental “‘mystics” can now be discussed seriously. 


My concluding point 1s that intellectual grasp is not enough, according to all 

that the old Buddhist thinkers have had to say. They did not intend their treatises 

to be mere theoretical exercises, to be read, understood, and filed away 1n the 

great dust bin of the mind. The Hua-yen vision was first of all meant to tantalize 

the reader and lure him to realize (i.e., to make real in his everyday experience) 

what had been only theory. To realize the Hua-yen universe means to go beyond 

an intellectual grasp of the system to a lived experience of things existing in this 

manner, for the Hua-yen world view 1s nothing if not a lived reality. To live 

this reality in turn means to alter drastically one’s moral and ethical stance as 

they relate to the infinite other. The final chapter of this book will examine some 

of the implications of the Hua~yen world view for practice and ethics, but here, 



in conclusion, a story told by,a Buddhist priest may give some idea of what it 

means to live the Hua-~yen vision. 



That I have been able to establish myself as well as I have has been totally 

because of my teacher’s guidance. It was customary for him to visit the 

shrines of various guardians, placed around the grounds of the temple, 

every day after the morning service. One morning while he was making 

his rounds, he discovered a single chopstick in a drain. He brought 1t back, 

called me to his room, held out the chopstick to me and asked, “What 1s 

this?”’ I replied, “It is a chopstick.” “Yes, this is a chopstick. Is it unusable?” 

he asked further. ‘‘No,” I said, “It 1s still usable.” “Quite so,” he said, “And 

yet I found it in a drain with other scraps. That is to say, you have taken 

the life of this chopstick. You may know the proverb, ‘He who kills another 

digs two graves.’ Since you have killed this chopstick, you will be killed by 



cenit At RA A RR RA Ie 



The Jewel Net of Indra 10 



it.” Spending four or five hours on this incident he told me how I should 

practice. At that time I was seven or eight years old. His guidance at that 

time really soaked in. From that time on, I became very careful and meti- 

culous about everything.” 



In the Hua-yen universe, where everything mterpenetrates in identity and mter- 

dependence, where everything needs everything else, what 1s there which is 

not valuable? To throw away even a single chopstick as worthless 1s to set up a 

hierarchy of values which in the end will kill us ina way in which no bullet can. 

In the Hua-yen universe, everything counts.