Showing posts with label Engaged Buddhism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Engaged Buddhism. Show all posts

2021/04/09

Bhikkhu Bodhi Engaged Buddhism: The Need of the Hour: - Tricycle

Bhikkhu Bodhi Engaged Buddhism: The Need of the Hour: - Tricycle


The Need of the Hour


A new vision and scale of values are necessary measures for safeguarding our world.By Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi with Images by David MaiselFALL 2011
Images courtesy of David Maisel/Institute








It’s hardly a secret that human recklessness is reaching a critical mass, threatening not only our collective sanity but even our long-term survival. Ever more powerful and impersonal weaponry, endless warfare, super-quick changes in technology, a volatile global economy, the widening gap between the ultrarich and everyone else, climate disasters, species extinction, and ecological devastation: these crises are escalating out of control, and even what was once the most idyllic South Pacific island offers no escape. We’ve got to find ways to put our house in order, and we’ve got to do so fast; otherwise the rapid descent of our civilization towards collapse seems unavoidable.

The critical problems that loom over us—economic, political, and ecological—can be dealt with in either of two ways. One is the symptomatic approach favored by policy wonks and conventional liberal politicians, who view each problem as distinct and propose tackling them through more finely tuned policies. The other approach is holistic. It looks at these problems as interwoven and mutually reinforcing, seeing them as objectifications of our subjective propensities mirroring back to us the distorted ways we relate to ourselves, other people, and the natural world. From this angle, any effective solution requires that we make fundamental changes in ourselves—in our views, attitudes, and intentions. These can then ripple out, coalesce, and inspire transformative action.

I suggest that it is the task of religion—understood broadly as comprising forms of spirituality that don’t necessarily constitute an organized faith—to offer us guidance in making those redemptive changes. In trying to implement them we can expect to meet hardened resistance both from mainstream culture and our own entrenched habits. To understand the necessity of change, we must consider not only our short-term personal advantage but also the long-range impact our choices have on others we will never know or see: on people living in remote lands, on generations as yet unborn, and on the other species that share our planet.Images courtesy of David Maisel/Institute

What is required of us is to adopt a panoramic ethical point of view that takes us far beyond the bounds of mere expediency. By connecting us to the deepest sources of ethics, religious consciousness can play a pivotal role in promoting the inner transformations needed to ward off collapse. But for religion to guide us through the approaching storms, the scope of religious consciousness must itself be extended and deepened. We have to draw out from classical spiritual teachings fresh implications and applications seen against the cultural and intellectual horizons of our time.

I have found that by balancing fidelity to tradition with relevance to the present, the classical teachings of Buddhism can be newly formulated to meet the challenges of the historical moment. Classical Buddhism at its core is a path of personal liberation, but its rich array of principles and practices offer powerful tools for accelerating the type of inner growth that can promote outer transformation. Specifically, Buddhism offers us two complementary perspectives that can guide us in our engagement with the world. One pertains to our way of understanding ourselves, the other to our relationship with other living beings. These two perspectives are, respectively, the wisdom of selflessness and universal compassion. Though distinct, the two are closely bound, and in their unity they provide a potent antidote to our current perilous drift.

The wisdom of selflessness, according to the Buddha’s teaching, is the necessary remedy for the false sense of personal identity that normally hovers in the background of our minds. This misplaced sense of personal identity has harmful ramifications on at least three fronts: in relation to material things, in relation to ourselves, and in relation to other people. In relation to things, it gives rise to inordinate greed and acquisitiveness. In relation to ourselves, it leads to attempts to enhance our self-image by acquiring wealth and status. In relation to other people, it engenders envy, competitiveness, and lust for power.

Related: Meditation In Action: The Emergence of Engaged Buddhism

The Buddha says that these compulsions, the causes of our suffering, originate because we implicitly take ourselves to possess a truly existent self. The wisdom of selflessness is designed to dispel the delusion of self and thereby free us from suffering. To develop this wisdom, we closely examine the factors around which the idea of self congeals, the “five aggregates” of bodily form, feeling, perception, volitional activities, and consciousness. By mindfully attending to them, we see that all the aggregates—the factors of our being—are impermanent, composite, and ever changing. Each lacks the persistency essential to selfhood and thus turns out to be selfless. Insight into the selfless nature of the five aggregates breaks the bondage of craving, enabling us to realize transcendent liberation, nirvana.Images courtesy of David Maisel/Institute

While classical Buddhism proposes insight into the selfless nature of personal identity as the key to liberation, this same insight can be given an extended application to purge us of the greed, lust for domination, and complacency responsible for our current predicament. To extend the wisdom of selflessness, we shift its focus from an analysis of the composite nature of personal identity to an exploration of the wide web of conditionality. If things lack substantial existence because they are impermanent and composite, they also lack substantial existence because they arise and persist in dependence on an intricate network of conditions. Insight into the interdependency of phenomena reveals that the very being of things is a system of relations. Things exist not as self-sufficient entities but as temporary nodules in a fluid current of energies.

Reflection on conditionality begins with oneself. We consider how our own body is constituted of the food we eat, which depends on soil, water, and sunshine; on the labor of those who grow the food and the transport that brings it to market. Our body depends on air, water, and heat. We wear clothes made from cotton and wool and synthetics. The cotton depends on cotton fields, and on those who work the fields, and those who weave it into threads and turn the threads into fabric and the fabric into clothes. Our own bodies are the end product of an evolutionary chain that goes back to the Big Bang, to the stars, galaxies, and stardust. This body encapsulates every stage in the long march of evolution, from the first cells that appeared billions of years ago in the ancient oceans. Every organ, tissue, and cell records in its DNA the entire history of life. Our culture is the end product of human civilization, from the first groups of hunter-gatherers to the first settled agrarian communities to the mighty empires of the ancient world, all the way up through the science, art, and technology of the 21st century. All the inhabitants of this planet are intertwined, from corporate CEOs in the skyscrapers of Manhattan to factory workers in China to farmers in Iowa to meatpackers in Wisconsin to the techno-wizards of Bangalore to the armed kids in the Congo to the indigenous peoples of Brazil and Borneo.Images courtesy of David Maisel/Institute

From the human realm we can move outward in widening circles until our insight encompasses all forms of sentient and nonsentient life. Seeing how all living beings are bound together in the most intricate symbiotic relationships, we respect all forms of life. Seeing how all living beings are engaged in a continuous exchange of materials with their surroundings, we regard the environment as sacrosanct—precious for its instrumental value, as the sphere in which life unfolds, and precious for its intrinsic value, as a domain of mysterious intelligence, beauty, and wonder.

Related: Agent of Change: An Interview with bell hooks

This is not abstract theory but the groundwork for a transformative discipline. To see into the interconnectedness of all living things is to see how all living things are part of a unified field that contains all, and at the same time to see that this entire field is embodied by each being, constituted of its cells, organs, nervous system, and consciousness. Correct cognition entails appropriate action. It issues in an ethic that bids us consider the long-term effects our deeds exert on other people, on all beings endowed with sentience, and on the entire biosphere.

In minimal terms, this means that we cannot tolerate behavior that endangers vast sections of the world’s population. We cannot use the earth’s resources in ways that result in the mass extinction of species, with unpredictable results. We cannot spend billions on the fratricidal activity of war, while a billion people suffer from hunger, sleep on the streets, and die from easily curable illnesses. We cannot burn fuels that irreversibly alter the climate, or discharge toxic substances into our water and air, without initiating chain reactions that will eventually poison ourselves.

For the spiritual life to unleash its full potential as a fountainhead of grace and blessings, the wisdom of selflessness on its own is not sufficient. Wisdom has to be joined with another force that can galvanize the will to act. The force needed to empower wisdom is compassion. Both wisdom and compassion shift our sense of identity away from ourselves toward the wider human, biotic, and cosmic community to which we belong. But where wisdom involves a cognitive grasp of this fact, compassion operates viscerally.

The systematic development of compassion begins with the cultivation of lovingkindness. Lovingkindness is said to be the basis for compassion because, in order to sympathize with those in pain, we first must empathize with them and desire their welfare. The feeling of love for beings—ourselves included—makes us care about their happiness and well-being. Then, when they meet suffering, our hearts are stirred and we reach out to help them.

Compassion evolves from lovingkindness by narrowing the focus from beings in a generic sense to those afflicted by suffering. To develop compassion systematically, one brings to mind people in pain and distress, generating the wish “May they be free from suffering.” Perhaps the most suitable type of people with which to begin the practice are children. They should be real people, not imaginary, and one should choose specific individuals. If you don’t personally know such children, choose a few you may have read about in the news: the girl in Sri Lanka who lost her parents in the 2004 tsunami; the boy in the Congo forced to fight in armed conflict; the young woman in Cambodia sold into the sex trade; the neighbor’s son who is beset by an incurable illness. Feel each child as your own, and inwardly share their plight.Images courtesy of David Maisel/Institute

To expand the feeling of compassion, we next bring to mind a few mature people undergoing different forms of suffering. Again, these can be people one knows personally or has read about in the news. But we should avoid individuals whose misfortune will arouse indignation and those whose suffering is likely to cause worry and dejection. Having selected four or five people, we identify deeply with each, sincerely wishing that they be free from suffering. We repeat this process again and again, taking each person in turn, until compassion spontaneously swells up in our hearts. Then, in graded steps, we extend compassion over the whole earth and finally to afflicted beings in all realms of existence.

Traditional Buddhism describes boundless love and compassion as liberations of the heart (Pali, cetovimutti) that free us from ill will, cruelty, and indifference. They are called divine dwellings (brahmaviharas) because those who practice them radiate holy wishes for the welfare, happiness, and security of all beings. Given, however, the gravity of the crisis that confronts us today, it is questionable whether the merely inward cultivation of such virtues is sufficient. If love and compassion don’t find expression in concrete action, they could remain purely subjective states, lofty and sublime but inert, unable to exert any beneficial influence on others. While able to lift us to the heights, they might bind us there, limiting our ability to descend and pour out their blessing power into the troubled, anxious world in which we live. In my understanding, the crisis of our age requires that wisdom and compassion jointly acquire an immanent, transformative function that can give a new direction to our collective life. The key to this transformation is what I call “conscientious compassion.” This is a compassion that does not confine itself to passively wishing good for others but courageously takes the steps necessary to help them: to remove their suffering and bring them real happiness. This is a compassion informed by the voice of conscience, which continually reminds us that too many of our fellow beings, human and animal alike, are unjustly condemned to lives of misery. Conscientious compassion boldly enters the fray of action, not afraid to engage with politics, economics, and programs of social uplift. It tells us that we need to treat people as ends rather than as means, ensuring that they are protected against exploitation and injustice. It is at once a compassion that acts and a sense of conscience that remains ever open to the pain of the world.

The spur to conscientious compassion is a keen recognition of our own responsibility for transfiguring life on earth. When we feel, deep inside, that others are not essentially different from us, our lives will undergo a sea change. Convinced that we can make a difference, we will actually exert ourselves to make that difference. We will then live, not for our narrow ends rooted in egocentric grasping, but for the welfare and happiness of the whole. While pursuing the transcendent good, we won’t neglect the ethical and cosmic good. Inspired by a wide and profound vision of our ultimate potential, we will work unflinchingly within this conditioned realm to build a global community committed to social justice, pledged to peace, and respectful of other forms of sentient life.

Related: Climate Change Is a Moral Issue

To shift gears from contemplative compassion to conscientious compassion, we have to find a personal calling, a task that enables us to change the world for the better. Each of us has some task, some way to practice conscientious compassion. The question is: How do we find that task? To find it, a specific method can be prescribed (for which I am indebted to my friend Andrew Harvey). At the outset, practice the usual meditation on compassion, perhaps for 20 or 30 minutes. Then focus your attention on several of the formidable problems that loom before humanity today: futile and self-destructive wars, rampant military spending, global warming, violations of human rights, poverty and global hunger, the exploitation of women, our treatment of animals, the abuse of the environment, or any other concern that comes to mind. Reflect briefly on these problems, one by one, aware of how you respond to them. You can repeat this procedure for several days, even daily for a week. At some point, you will start to recognize that one of these problems, more than the others, tugs at the strings of your heart. These inner pangs suggest that this is the particular issue to which you should dedicate your time and energy.Images courtesy of David Maisel/Institute

But don’t be hasty in drawing this conclusion. Rather, continue to explore the issue cautiously and carefully, asking yourself: “Does this issue break my heart open and cause a downpour of compassion? Does this urge gnaw at my vital organs? Does it point the finger to the door and tell me to do something?” If your answer to these questions is “Yes,” that is your vocation, that is your sacred calling, that’s where you should put conscientious compassion into action. This doesn’t mean you neglect other issues. You remain open and responsive to other concerns, but you focus on the issue that tugs at your heart and bids you to act.

This enlargement of mission, I believe, may well mark the next decisive step in the evolution of Buddhism and of human spirituality in its wider dimensions. I see this as a shared endeavor that transcends specific faiths and provides a broad canopy under which different religions and spiritual movements (including secular humanism) can gather in harmony. In my thinking, for human spirituality to evolve to the next level it must resolve the sharp dualisms that prevail in older spiritual traditions: between worldly life and world-transcendence, outer activity and inner peace, cosmos and eternity, creation and God. Instead of devaluing one in favor of the other, the progression to a more complete stage of spirituality—one corresponding to our present understanding of life and the universe—calls for integration rather than separation. Our need is to embody the realization of enlightened truth securely within the horizons of humanity’s historical and cosmic adventure. Our mission is to enact enlightened truth in a way that contributes to the human and universal good.
Does this issue break my heart open and cause a downpour of compassion? Does this urge gnaw at my vital organs? Does it point the finger to the door and tell me to do something? If your answer to these questions is “Yes,” that is your vocation, that is your sacred calling, that’s where you should put conscientious compassion into action.

In making such a statement, I am aware that I am going beyond the boundary posts of traditional Buddhist doctrine, whether Theravada or Mahayana. However, I believe that any religion, including Buddhism, best preserves its vitality through an organic process of growth, and I don’t see such growth as necessarily entailing a fall from a primal state of perfection. While remaining faithful to its seminal intuitions, a spiritual tradition can absorb, digest, and assimilate new insights supplied by its intellectual and cultural milieu and by the advancing edge of knowledge. These influences can draw forth potentials implicit in the older teaching that could not emerge until the appropriate cultural transformations evoked them and allowed them to flower.

In a world torn by violence, oppressed too long by projects aimed at domination, I believe that a conscientious compassion guided by wisdom is the most urgent need of the hour. In adopting this integral approach to spirituality, however, I see our task as involving more than merely avoiding environmental devastation, providing others with enough food to eat, and paving the way to respect for human rights. In my understanding, our larger task is to give birth to a new vision and scale of values that replaces division with integration, exploitation with cooperation, and domination with mutually respectful partnership. The overcoming of clinging through the wisdom of selflessness, the development of empathic love, and the expression of both in conscientious compassion have today become imperatives. They are no longer mere spiritual options, but necessary measures for safeguarding the world and for allowing humankind’s finest potentials to flourish.

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Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi lives and teaches at Chuang Yen Monastery in Carmel, New York. He is a translator of texts from the Pali canon and the cofounder of Buddhist Global Relief.





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Emptiness and Social Action with Bhikkhu Bodhi | Union Theological Seminary

Emptiness and Social Action with Bhikkhu Bodhi | Union Theological Seminary



EMPTINESS AND SOCIAL ACTION WITH BHIKKHU BODHI

WHEN:
November 7, 2019 @ 6:30 pm – 8:00 pm
WHERE:
Union Theological Seminary
3041 Broadway
New York, NY 10027
USA


Government for the People: A Buddhist View of Political Legitimacy

In this talk Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi will draw upon three classical Buddhist sources that deal with the legitimation of political authority: 
  1. the suttas of the Pali Canon, 
  2. the edicts of King Asoka, and 
  3. Nagarjuna’s Precious Garland. 
He will then apply the principles derived from this survey to the present-day question of a government’s obligations to its citizenry.

The Thích Nhất Hạnh Program for Engaged Buddhism invites you to join us for our monthly Dharma Talk Series: Emptiness and Social Action. Over the course of nine months, a wide array of Buddhist teachers will take us into the essential teachings of the Buddhadharma and what it looks like to move into action to address the dissatisfaction, distress, and suffering that we meet in relationship with the earth, people, and systems today, in the United States, and around the world.

How does conceptual, inferential, and experiential knowledge into emptiness of an inherent self invite for a response to circumstances that are stressful, painful, and violent? Each evening will be unique, with a combination of a dharma talk, meditation, and a question and answer period exploring these essential and vital questions within Buddhism and our lives’ for this moment in time.

Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi is an American Theravada Buddhist monk, originally from New York City. He received novice ordination in 1972 and full ordination in 1973 and lived in Asia for 24 years, primarily in Sri Lanka. A Buddhist scholar and translator of Buddhist texts, he is also the founder of Buddhist Global Relief, a nonprofit supporting hunger relief, sustainable agriculture, and education in countries suffering from chronic poverty and malnutrition.

An ardent promoter of Engaged Buddhism, Ven. Bodhi is consistently at the forefront of climate justice, and has participated in too many marches and protests to count, including the March for Clean Energy, in Philadelphia, the People’s Climate March, in Washington, D.C., and protests with the Poor People’s Campaign in Albany. In addition to his on-the-ground work, Ven. Bodhi has addressed the climate crisis with talks both in the White House and the Hall of the United Nations General Assembly. He lives and teaches at Chuang Yen Monastery in Carmel, New York.




2021/04/06

S Kaza, 7 The Greening of Buddhism The Oxford Handbook of Religion and Ecol­ogy

 7 The Greening of Buddhism   Stephanie Kaza

  The Oxford Handbook of Religion and Ecol­ogy

AS A MAJOR WORLD RELIGION, BUDDHISM HAS A LONG and rich history of responding to human needs. From the moist tropical lowlands of Sri Lanka to the towering mountains of Tibet, Buddhist teachings have been transmitted through diverse ter­rain to many different cultures. Across this history, Buddhist under­standing about nature and human-nature relations has been based on a wide range of teachings, texts, and social views. The last half century, as Buddhism has taken root in the West, has been a time of great environ­mental concern. Global warming, habitat loss, and resource extraction have all taken a significant toll as human populations multiply beyond precedent.

With the rise of the religion and ecology movement, Buddhist schol­ars, teachers, and practitioners have investigated the various traditions to see what teachings are relevant and helpful for cultivating environmen­tal awareness. The development of green Buddhism is a relatively new phenomenon, reflecting the scale of the environmental crisis around the world. Thus far the gleanings have followed the lead of specific writers and teachers opening up new interpretations of Buddhist teachings.

This essay was originally prepared for The Oxford Handbook of Religion and Ecol­ogy, edited by Roger Gottlieb, published by Oxford University Press in 2006. Since that time there have been further developments in Buddhist eco-activism and Buddhism and Ecology scholarship, with emphasis on climate change, ani­mal protection, and social justice. Buddhist writers, teachers, and activists con­tinue to draw on the central philosophical and religious themes from the major Buddhist traditions highlighted here.

Western Buddhists, still new to the philosophies and practices of the East, have often sparked the conversations, seeking ways to complement secu­lar approaches to environmental thought.

HISTORY AND DEVELOPMENT OF GREEN BUDDHISM

One of the earliest voices for Buddhist environmentalism in North Amer­ica was Zen student and poet Gary Snyder, who illuminated the connec­tions between Buddhist practice and ecological thinking.' Snyder studied Zen in Japan and cultivated an "in the moment" haiku-like form in his poetry; much of which was set in the mountains of the western United States. One of his more lighthearted pieces, "Smokey the Bear Sutra," was handed out by activists urging better protection for US forests. Sny­der was associated with the early Beat generation of the 1950s and 1960s, which had a strong influence on the 1960s counterculture. Hippies, communards, and back-to-the-landers took up Snyder's approach, made popular in Jack Kerouac's travelogue Dharma Bums. Many early Buddhist students felt that spiritual leadership was crucial in the race toward plan­etary ecological destruction.

In the 1970s  the environmental movement swelled, and Buddhist cen­ters became well established in the West. While Congress passed such landmark legislation as the Clean Water Act, some of the new retreat centers confronted ecological issues head on. Zen Mountain Monastery in New York challenged the Department of Environmental Conservation over a beaver dam and forest protection. Green Gulch Zen Center in Northern California worked out water-use agreements with the neigh­boring farmers and national park. Some Buddhist centers opted for veg­etarian fare at a time when vegetarianism was not that well known. For a few, this reflected an awareness of the environmental problems associated with raising meat. A number of Buddhist centers made some effort to grow their own organic food.

By the 1980s Buddhist leaders were explicitly addressing the eco-crisis and incorporating ecological awareness in their teaching. In his 1989 Nobel Peace Prize speech, His Holiness the Dalai Lama proposed mak­ing Tibet an international ecological reserve. Vietnamese Zen monk and peace activist Thich Nhat Hanh invited his followers to join the Order of Interbeing, teaching Buddhist principles using ecological examples. Zen teachers Robert Aitken in Hawaii and Daido Loori in New York exam­ined the Buddhist precepts from an environmental perspective. Buddhist activist Joanna Macy creatively synthesized elements of Buddhism and deep ecology, challenging people to take their insights into direct action. The Buddhist Peace Fellowship, founded in 1978, added environmental concerns to its early activist agenda.

In Thailand, teak forests were being clearcut at an accelerating rate for foreign trade. This resulted in massive flooding and mudslides, generating a national wave of environmental protest. Buddhist priests in rural villages made headlines with their ritual ordination of elder trees as a symbolic gesture of solidarity with threatened forests.2 As Buddhist environmental activism spread, the "forest monks," as they came to be known, formed an ethical front in the protest against overexploitation. Other monks got involved with activist efforts to question economic development and its environmental impacts. Plastic bags, toxic lakes, and nuclear reactors were targeted by Buddhist leaders as detrimental influences on people's physical and spiritual health. In Butma, Buddhists concerned about the environment drew attention to the impacts of a major oil pipeline and the decimation of tropical forests. In Tibet, the environmental impacts of Chinese colonization were documented and publicized by support groups in the West.'

Interest in Buddhist views on the environment gained momentum in the 19905 through books, journals, and conferences. For the twentieth an­niversary of Earth Day, the Buddhist Peace Fellowship produced a teach­ing packet and poster for widespread distribution. That same year, 1990, the first popular anthology of Buddhism and ecology writings, Dharma Gaia, was published by Parallax following the scholarly collection Nature in Asian Traditions of Thought.' World Wide Fund for Nature brought out a series of books on five world religions, including Buddhism and Ecology.' Well-established Buddhist magazines such as Tricycle, Shambhala Sun, Inquiring Mind, Turning Wheel, and Mountain Record devoted whole issues to the question of environmental practice.

In 1990 two groundbreaking national conferences were held in Seattle, Washington, and Middlebury, Vermont—both focused on eco-religious approaches to the environment. At the Vermont conference the Dalai Lama was the keynote speaker, urging people to take care of the environ­ment. A few years later at the 1993 Parliament of the World's Religions in Chicago, Buddhists gathered with Hindus, Muslims, pagans, Jews, and Christians from all over the world; one of the top agenda items was the role of religion in responding to the environmental crisis. Parallel inter­est in the academic community culminated in ten major conferences at Harvard Center for the Study of World Religions, purposely aimed at defining a new field of study in religion and ecology. The first of these conferences, convened by Mary Evelyn Tucker and John Grimm in 1996, focused on Buddhism and ecology and resulted in the first major aca­demic volume on the subject.6

For the most part, the academic community addressed the philosophy but not the practice of Buddhist environmentalism. Applied practice was explored by socially engaged Buddhist teachers such as Thich Nhat Hanh and Bernie Glassman. In Thailand and around the world, Sulak Sivaraksa worked tirelessly for global change, and in the United Kingdom Vipas-sana teacher Christopher Titmuss ran for Parliament as a Green Party candidate. John Daido Loori committed a substantial portion of his retreat-center land in the Catskills of New York to be "forever wild," while Rochester Zen Center founder Philip Kapleau actively encouraged vegetarianism. In California, nuclear activist Joanna Macy promoted a model of experiential teaching designed to cultivate motivation, pres­ence, and authenticity. Her workshops popularized Buddhist meditation techniques and a Buddhist view of systems thinking. Together with Bud­dhist rainforest activistJohn Seed of Australia, she developed the Council of All Beings to engage people's attention and imagination on behalf of all beings.' Thousands of these councils have now taken place in Australia, New Zealand, the United States, Germany, Russia, and other parts of the Western world.

Since 2000 the religion and ecology movement has gathered steam and become a forceful presence at the American Academy of Religion as well as the World Council of Churches. The acceleration of global envi­ronmental problems has added to the urgency of the agenda, taken up now by Buddhists as well as Christians, Jews, and all the major religious traditions. Buddhist initiatives have been strongest in Buddhist coun­tries such as Thailand, Tibet, and Burma. Though fewer in numbers,

Western Buddhists have contributed texts and academic study to provide a foundation for the new movement. There are now doctoral programs in the United States where a student can earn a graduate degree with a focus on Buddhism and ecology.'

RECENT STREAMS IN BUDDHIST ENVIRONMENTAL THOUGHT

As interest has developed in Buddhism and Ecology, the fields of thought have expanded through various writers as well as popular and academic discourses. When a field of thought first coalesces from wide-ranging points of engagement, a common first step is the publication of collected writings on the topic. This then opens the field to newcomers by provid­ing an overview and introduction to the major themes within the field. For Buddhism and Ecology, this step was taken with Dharma Gaia (1990), followed by the academic collection of papers entitled Buddhism and Ecol­ogy (iç), which led to the most complete collection to date: Dharma Rain (2000). This last anthology drew together classic reference texts from a range of Buddhist traditions, along with modern commentaries, exploratory essays, and academic critiques.

With such texts available to academic audiences, professors in re­ligious studies and environmental studies could now offer courses on Buddhism and Ecology at the undergraduate level. For students in the West, Buddhism held its own magnetic attraction as the exotic "other" next to Christianity. Young people concerned about the environment and eager for a more congruent spiritual fit with their experience in nature found Buddhist environmental thought very appealing. At a professional level, Buddhist perspectives have been a regular part of the programs or­ganized by the Religion and Ecology Group at the American Academy of Religion." This group has seen a rapid rise in interest, with conference attendance increasing every year.

Environmental concerns have also been a significant part of inter-religious dialogue in the West. At the 2005 international conference of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies held in Los Angeles, the theme was "Hearing the Cries of the World," with one session focused on the "cries" of the environment. At Gethsemani II in 2002, a Catholic-sponsored dialogue in Thomas Merton's tradition, speakers addressed

structural poverty and violence resulting from global exploitation of environmental resources. Impacts of consumerism were taken up at the 2003 annual meeting of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies. The 2014 annual meeting of the American Academy of Religion fea­tured numerous panels and speakers on the moral implications of cli­mate change.

Not all topics of environmental concern have attracted attention from green Buddhists; some key issues such as climate change are only now getting attention in academic or popular discourse. Arenas requiring technical knowledge such as air and water pollution or pesticide regula­tion do not seem to draw much Buddhist commentary. Issues in regional or local ecosystem protection are apparently better handled by a coalition of local groups, more often nonreligious than religious. Buddhism, how­ever, does offer rich resources for immediate application in food ethics, animal rights, and consumerism—areas that are now developing some solid academic and popular literature. The most basic Buddhist tenet of nonharming provides a strong platform for evaluating animal welfare and animal rights issues, since many of these revolve around degrees of harm to human-impacted animals, whether on factory farms or in zoos. Paul Waldau has written extensively on both Buddhist and Christian attitudes toward animals in his book The Specter of Speciesism.11

Food ethics are evolving rapidly in the West as consumers realize the tremendous costs of globally shipped goods and agriculture based on chemical inputs. In the last decade, farmers' markets and community-supported agriculture have gained great popularity and expanded quickly. Fast-food diets were deeply challenged by Eric Schlosser's research in Fast Food Nation, as well as the fast-food experiment in the movie Super-size Me. In Italy the Slow Food Movement has taken off as a celebration of cultural values for local, homemade food, especially breads, wines, and cheeses. The demand for organic produce in the West has increased steadily, and in some states such as Vermont and Oregon, organic farmers are a significant portion of the farming community. Students at Buddhist meditation retreats in the United States have come to expect high-quality, thoughtfully prepared meals. At Green Gulch Zen Center in California, students have pressed for locally grown produce of all types as well as fair-trade coffee and tea.

Interest in Buddhist food practices was perhaps ignited by one of Thich Nhat Hanh's famous exercises for mass gatherings: the orange meditation (sometimes replaced by the apple or the raisin meditation). In this long guided meditation, students practice mindfulness of touch, smell, taste, first bite, swallowing—in short, every moment in the act of eating. This meditation evoked interest in mindful food practice in general: eating slowly, eating as family practice, eating to support a healthy environment. It raised again the issue of vegetarianism, always a concern in a Buddhist setting. For Westerners exposed to both Buddhist and environmental reasons for not eating meat, ethical food practices can vary substantially."

Consumerism, the social emphasis on "stuff" and status, also lends itself well to Buddhist analysis. Since the Four Noble Truths identify desire as the cause of suffering, Buddhist practice offers useful antidotes to the runaway desire that characterizes a consumer society. In Hooked!, a number of Buddhist teachers, scholars, and practitioners take up Bud­dhist values, methods, and principles to address the all-penetrating tan­gle of consumerism that dominates social consciousness today.'3 Buddhist meditative practices are helpful in taming the impulses of desire that lead to shopping sprees and consumer addictions. Zen teachings that focus on taking apart the ego-self make a good foil to skillful marketers who spe­cialize in identity needs. Initiatives in Thailand and Japan indicate what is possible when Buddhist grassroots organizers or temples take on the institutional structures of consumerism. 14

Buddhist environmental thought found its way into creative writing as well, in both prose and poetry. A number of Buddhist and Buddhist-leaning poets followed in Gary Snyder's footsteps, taking up subjects of nature or human-nature relations in their poetry. A collection of these poems, Beneath a Single Moon, pulled together work reflecting Buddhist environmental themes.'5 Among nature writers, several authors alluded to Buddhist practice as part of what informs their intimate relations with the landscape. Peter Matthiessen wrote eloquently of Zen insights in his book The Snow Leopard, set high in the Himalayas on a search for this rare endangered cat. Gary Snyder published two collections of essays, The Practice of the Wild and A Place in Space, which developed his Buddhist environmental thought in fresh and pragmatic ways. Gretel Ehrlich, in Islands, the Universe, Home, wrote of meditation in the open spaces of the western United States and in A Match to the Heart drew on bardo imagery to describe being hit by lightning.

ENVIRONMENTAL THEMES IN BUDDHIST TRADITIONS

Buddhists taking up environmental concerns are motivated by many fields of environmental suffering—from loss of species and habitats to the consequences of industrial agriculture. Informed by different streams of Buddhist thought and practice, they draw on a range of themes in Buddhist texts and traditions. Many of the central Buddhist teachings seem consistent with concern for the environment, and a number of modern Buddhist teachers advocate clearly for environmental steward­ship. As Buddhists develop their contribution to environmental care-giving, they tend to reflect the themes and values of the teachings that are most supportive and useful to their work.

The key themes or values usually cited as foundational to Buddhist environmental thought originate with the major historical developments in Buddhism—the Theravada traditions of southeast Asia; the Mahayana schools of northern China, Japan, and Korea; and the Vajrayana lineages of Tibet and Mongolia. While Buddhists engaged in environmental work in Asian countries may draw primarily on the teachings of their region, Western Buddhists tend to take hold of whatever seems applicable to the work at hand. This list of themes is not a comprehensive review but rather an introduction to the dominant ideas in Buddhist environmental discourse today.

1] Theravada Themes

In the earliest Buddhist sutras there are many references to nature as refuge, especially trees and caves. The famous story of the Buddha's life begins with his mother giving birth under the shelter of a kindly tree. After young Gautama wandered for years in the forests of India, he took refuge at the foot of a bodhi tree, where he achieved enlightenment. For the remainder of his life, the Buddha taught large gatherings of monks and laypeople in protected groves of trees that served as rainy-season retreat centers for his followers. The Buddha urged his followers to choose natural places for meditation, free from the influence of everyday human activity. Early Buddhists developed a reverential attitude toward large trees, carrying on the Indian tradition regarding each as a vanaspati or "lord of the forest." Protecting trees and preserving open lands were

considered meritorious deeds. Today in India and Southeast Asia many large old trees areoften wrapped with monastic cloth to indicate this age-old appreciation for nature as refuge.

One of the first Buddhist teachings on the Four Noble Truths explains the nature of human suffering as generated by desire and attachment. Fully embracing the nature of impermanence, the medicine for such suf­fering is the practice of compassion (karuna) and lovingkindness (metta). The early Indian Jataka tales recount the many former lives of the Bud­dha as an animal or tree when he showed compassion to others who were suffering. In each of the tales the Buddha-to-be sets a strong moral exam­ple of compassion for plants and animals. The first guidelines for monks in the Vinaya contained a number of admonitions related to caring for the environment. For example, travel was prohibited during the rainy season for fear of killing the worms and insects that came to the surface in wet weather. Monks were not to dig in the ground or drink unstrained water. Even wild animals were to be treated with kindness. Plants too were not to be injured carelessly but respected for all that they give to people. 16

Early Buddhism was strongly influenced by the Hindu and Jain prin­ciple of ahimsa or nonharming—a core foundation for environmental concern. In its broadest sense nonharming means "the absence of the desire to kill or harm."" Acts of injury or violence are to be avoided because they are thought to result in future injury to oneself. The fourth noble truth describes the path to ending the suffering of attachment and desire—the Eightfold Path of practice. One of the eight practice spokes is right conduct, which is based on the principle of nonharming. The first of the five basic precepts for virtuous behavior is often stated in its prohib­itory form as "not taking life" or "not killing or harming." Buddhaghosa explains: "Taking life' means to murder anything that lives. It refers to the striking and killing of living beings. 'Anything that lives'—ordinary people speak here of a 'living being,' but more philosophically we speak of 'anything that has the life-force.' 'Taking life' is then the will to kill anything that one perceives as having life, to act so as to terminate the life-force in it.

"8

The first precept, "not killing," applies to environmental conflicts around food production, land use, pesticides, and pollution. The sec­ond precept, "not stealing," engages global trade ethics and corporate exploitation of resources. "Not lying," the third precept, brings up issues

in advertising that promote consumerism. "Not engaging in abusive re­lations," interpreted through an environmental lens, can cover, many examples of cruelty and disrespect for nonhuman beings. Nonharming extends to all beings—not merely to those who are useful or irritating to humans. This central teaching of nonharming is congruent with many schools of ecophilosophy that respect the intrinsic value and capacity for experience of each being.

The Eightfold Path also includes the practice of right view or under­standing the laws of causality (karma) and interdependence. The Bud­dhist woridview in early India understood there to be six rebirth realms: devas, asuras (both god realms), humans, ghosts, animals, and hell beings. To be reborn as an animal would mean one had declined in moral vir­tue. By not causing harm to others, one could enhance one's future re­births into higher realms. In this sense, the law of karma was used as a motivating force for good behavior, including paying respect to all life. Monks were instructed not to eat meat, since by practicing vegetarianism they would avoid the hell realms and would be more likely to achieve a higher rebirth. In one sutra it is said, "If one eats the flesh of animals that one has not oneself killed, the result is to experience a single life (last­ing one kalpa) in hell. If one eats the meat of beasts that one has killed or one has caused another to kill, one must spend a hundred thousand kalpas in hell ."19

A third element of the Eightfold Path, right livelihood, concerns how one makes a living or supports oneself. The early canonical teachings indicate that the Buddha prohibited five livelihoods: trading in slaves, trading in weapons, selling alcohol, selling poisons, and slaughtering animals. The Buddha promised a terrible fate to those who hunted deer or slaughtered sheep; the intentional inflicting of harm was particularly egregious, for it revealed a deluded mind unable to see the relationship between slaughterer and slaughtered. Proponents of ethical vegetarian­ism point out that large-scale slaughtering of animals for food produc­tion breaks the Buddhas prohibition. Some Buddhist environmentalists speak of their work as right livelihood, a path of practice that serves others and cultivates compassionate action.

Though Buddhism generally places little weight on creation stories (since there is no creator god in the Buddhist view), the Agganna Sutta contains one parable of creation in which human moral choices affect the health of the environment. In this story the original beings are de­scribed as self-luminous, subsisting on bliss and freely traveling through space. At that time it was said that the Earth was covered with a flavorful substance much like butter, which caused the arising of greed. The more butter the beings ate, the more solid their bodies became. Over time the beings differentiated in form, and the more beautiful ones developed conceit and looked down on the others. Self-growing rice arose on the Earth to replace the butter, and before long people began hoarding and then stealing food. According to the story; as people erred in their ways, the richness of the Earth declined. The point of the sutta is to show that environmental health is bound up with human morality.20 Other early suttas spelled out the environmental impacts of greed, hate, and igno­rance, showing how these Three Poisons produce both internal and ex­ternal pollution. In contrast, the moral virtues of generosity, compassion, and wisdom were said to be able to reverse environmental decline and produce health and purity.

2] Mahayana Themes

As Buddhist teachings were carried north to China, a number of north­ern schools of thought evolved, emphasizing different texts, principles, and practices, some of which have now been applied to environmental concerns. The Hua Yen school of Buddhism of seventh-century China placed particular emphasis on the law of interdependence or mutual cau­sality. Because ecological thinking fits well with the Buddhist description of interdependence, this theme has become prominent in modern Bud­dhist environmental thought.2' The Hua Yen Chinese philosophy per­ceives nature as relational, each phenomenon dependent on a multitude of causes and conditions that include not only physical and biological factors but also historical and cultural factors.

The Avatamsaka Sutra of the Hua Yen school uses the teaching meta­phor of the jewel net of Indra to represent the infinite complexity of the universe. This imaginary cosmic net holds a multifaceted jewel at each of its nodes, with each jewel reflecting all the others. If any jewels become cloudy (toxic or polluted), they reflect the others less clearly. To extend the metaphor, tugs on any of the net lines, for example, through loss of species or habitat fragmentation, affect all the other lines. Likewise, if clouded jewels are cleared up (rivers cleaned, wetlands restored), life

across the net is enhanced. Because the net of interdependence includes not only the actions of all beings but also their thoughts, the intention of the actor becomes a critical factor in determining what happens.

The law of interdependence suggests a powerful corollary, sometimes translated as "emptiness of separate self." Since all phenomena are de­pendent on interacting causes and conditions, then nothing exists as autonomous and self-supporting. This Buddhist understanding and ex­perience of self contradicts the traditional Western sense of self as a dis­crete autonomous individual. Interpreting the Hua Yen metaphor, Gary Snyder suggests that the empty nature of self offers access to "wild mind," the energetic forces that determine the nature of life." These forces act outside of human influence, setting the historical, ecological, and even cosmological context for all life.

T'ien-t'ai monks in eighth-century China believed in a universal Bud­dha nature that dwelled in all forms of life. Sentient (animal) and non-sentient (plant) beings and even the Earth itself were seen as capable of achieving enlightenment. This concept of Buddha nature is closely re­lated to Chinese views of chi or moving energy, ever changing, taking new form. This view of nature reflects a dynamic sense of flow and inter­connection between all beings, with Buddha nature arising and changing constantly. Buddhist scholar Ian Harris suggests that a Mahayana vege­tarian ethic was first formulated around the idea of Buddha nature. In the Mahaparinirvana Sutra Buddha nature is understood to be an embryo of the Tathagata or the fully enlightened being.23 Addressing the ethics of meat eating, Western Zen teacher Philip Kapleau wrote, "It is in Buddha-nature that all existences, animate and inanimate, are unified and harmo­nized. All organisms seek to maintain this unity in terms of their own karma. To willfully take life, therefore, means to disrupt and destroy this inherent wholeness and to blunt feelings of reverence and compassion arising from our Buddha mind." 14 Taking an animal's life, therefore, is destructive to the Buddha nature within the animal to be eaten. Kapleau taught that to honor the Tathagata and the potential for awakening, one should refrain from eating meat.

Environmental advocates sometimes call themselves "ecosattvas," those who take up a path of service to all beings. They are following the Mahayana model of the enlightened being or bodhisattva who re­turns lifetime after lifetime to help all who are suffering. Where the early

Theravada schools emphasized achieving enlightenment and leaving the world of suffering, the northern schools, influenced by Confucian social codes, placed great value on becoming enlightened to serve others. The bodhisattva vow to "save all sentient beings" calls for cultivating compas­sion for the endless suffering that arises from the fact of existence. Such bodhisattva acts of environmental service are marked by a strong sense of intention that reflects a Buddhist virtue ethic.25 Environmentalists apply this ethic to plant and animal relations as well as to people and societies, promoting environmental stewardship as a path to enlightenment.

Monastic temples in the Ch'an traditions of China were often built in mountainous or forested places. Chinese poets from the fifth century on accumulated an extensive body of literature reflecting a spiritual sense of belonging to wild nature on a cosmological level." Japanese schools of Zen influenced haiku and other classic verse forms that cultivated a sense of oneness with nature in the moment. Dogen, founder of the Soto sect of Zen, spoke of mountains and waters as sutras themselves, the very evi­dence of the dharma arising.27 He taught a method of direct knowing, ex­periencing this dharma of nature with no separation. For DOgen, the goal of meditation was nondualistic understanding, or complete transmission between two beings. Dogen taught that much human suffering generates from egoistic views based in dualistic understanding of self and other. To be awakened is to break through these limited views (of plants and animals) to experience the self and myriad beings as one energetic event.

3] Vajrayana Themes

Tibetan schools drew on all of the historic teachings transmitted to the far north from China, India, and Southeast Asia. Kindness for others was emphasized strongly with the encouragement to treat all sentient beings as having been their mother in a former life. In Santideva's classic eighth-century text on the bodhisattva path, the practice of compassion for all beings becomes world transforming. He vows: "Just like space and the great elements such as Earth, may I always support the life of all the boundless creatures. And until they pass away from pain, may I also be the source of life for all the realms of varied beings that reach unto the ends of space.""

For indigenous Tibetans, the landscape was seen as a sacred mandala, a symbolic representation of Vajrayana teachings. Monks and others

for many centuries have gone on pilgrimage to specific mountains to demonstrate their spiritual devotion, sometimes taking years, to com­plete their journeys. Heaps of inscribed prayer stones are placed along stone mountain paths, and prayer flags stream in the winds, offering encouragement to pilgrims traversing the sacred lands. Stupas, or relict shrines, are placed at significant points on the land to draw energy and commemorate important religious leaders. Pilgrims make offerings at these sites, linking the points of energy across the landscape with their own footsteps.29

4] Contemporary Themes

Today's Buddhists have drawn on a number of the principles above as supportive teachings for environmental work. Several additional themes have also been popularized by modern Buddhist teachers and practi­tioners. Vietnamese Zen teacher Thich Nhat Hanh promotes mindful­ness as a central stabilizing practice for calming the mind and being present. He works with the teachings of the Satipatthana Sutta, providing instructions in mindfulness of body, feelings, mind, and objects of mind, linking these directly with the most basic actions of eating and walking. Thich Nhat Hanh is one of a handful of Buddhist teachers today who has offered retreats for environmentalists. His word interbeing has become popular among Western Buddhists as a way to express the dynamic sense of relationship with the Earth. He frequently teaches about interbeing through the example of a piece of paper, which holds the sun, the Earth, the clouds, and all the beings of the forest.3° Mindfulness practice in Bud­dhist retreat centers supports thoughtful food practices, from organic gardening to silent cooking.

Environmentally engaged Buddhists are concerned about the ecologi­cal consequences of harmful human activities. Buddhist scholar Kenneth Kraft has proposed the term eco-karma to cover the multiple impacts of human choices as they affect the health and sustainability of the Earth.31 An ecological view of karma extends the traditional view of karma to a general systems view of environmental processes. Eco-karma might be expressed, for example, as one's ecological footprint—the amount of land, air, and water required for food, water, energy, shelter, and waste disposal. Tracing such karmic streams across the land is one way to understand the human responsibility for environmental stewardship.

Among today's Buddhists, environmental work is regarded as a form of social activism, a practice with a component of advocacy for social change. Activism such as this is called socially engaged Buddhism, a practice path mostly outside the gates of the monastery. Taking up environmen­tal work in this way, there is no sense of separation between the activist work and one's practice. Caring for the environment becomes a practice that engages one fully in the core Buddhist practices. Teaching others about the ecological problems and solutions in this context can be seen as a kind of dharma teaching, offered in the spirit of liberating humans from the suffering they are creating for the Earth and themselves. So­cially engaged Buddhists have taken up the concerns of nuclear waste, animal factory farming, and consumerism, among others. By working with other Buddhist activists, Buddhist environmentalists gain support in keeping Buddhist practice and philosophy at the heart of their work.

A ROLE FOR BUDDHISM IN THE ENVIRONMENTAL CRISIS

Will green Buddhist activists play a significant role in addressing the multitude of environmental problems in need of creative solutions? Will scholars of Buddhist environmental thought contribute useful insights to understand human motivation and behavior? Will Buddhist priests and teachers take up environmental concerns as part of their work with stu­dents and local communities? How will Buddhism stack up compared with other world religious traditions in affecting the outcome of unsus­tainable environmental trends? This section reviews the strengths and limitations that are apparent at this early stage of Buddhist environmen­tal engagement, looking at three arenas of activity. Because the field of Buddhism and ecology is evolving at a rapid rate, much more may yet be drawn from the Buddhist teachings and be of help in sorting through the difficult environmental choices that lie ahead.

1] Strengths

How effective is Buddhist environmental action? And what might make Buddhist environmentalism distinctive from other environmental or eco-religious activism? Let us consider the role for activists and what strengths from Buddhism they might bring to bear on their work. First

and perhaps most obvious, to others, Buddhist activists would ground their work in regular engagement with Buddhist practice forms. Thich Nhat Hanh, for example, has encouraged activists to recite the precepts together to reinforce guidelines for right conduct in the midst of chal­lenging situations. Walking meditation is taught regularly as part of ac­tivist retreats at Vallecitos Mountain Refuge in New Mexico and 'Whole Thinking retreats in Fayston, Vermont.32 Practicing with the breath can help sustain activists under pressure in the heat of a conflict. At Green Gulch Zen Center, Earth Day celebrations have been woven into the public event for Buddha's birthday. Environmental activists associated with the Buddhist Peace Fellowship include meditation as part of their regular meeting activities.

Buddhist texts recognize a strong relationship between intention, be­havior, and the long-range effects of action. Clarifying one's intention in advocacy work helps prevent a sense of being overwhelmed or burnout. Environmental issues are rarely small and self-contained; one problem leads to another, and many parties are often involved in negotiating a last­ing solution. Campaigns or public hearings can be toxic with frustration, anger, and power displays. The Buddhist activist may be able to carry some emotional stability in the face of this heated energy by maintaining clear intention, holding to the bodhisattva vow to reduce suffering and help all beings. This can help other activists clarify their motivation and set the stage for more effective collaboration and division of tasks.

Central to Buddhist teaching is the focus on breaking through the delusion of the false self, the ego that sees itself as the center of the uni­verse. One antidote for this universal human tendency is the practice of detachment. A green Buddhist approach to activism would include some healthy ego-checking work to see if the activist is motivated by a need to build his or her ego identity as an environmentalist or Earth saver. Keeping intention strong but letting go of the need for specific results is a practice in detachment. One recognizes that the outcome of any situa­tion will depend on many factors, not just the contributions of one per­son. Being receptive to the creative dynamics at play and less identified with a particular end result can produce surprising collaborations. Sulak Sivaraksa calls this "small b Buddhism"—downplaying the ego of being a good Buddhist in favor of being an effective friend to others working toward a common goal.33

Key to a Buddhist approach to problem solving is taking a nondualistic view of reality. This follows from an understanding of self as not separate from all others but rather dynamically co-created. Most environmental battles play out as confrontations between seeming enemies: tree huggers versus loggers, housewives versus toxic polluters, organic farmers versus corporate seed producers. From a Buddhist perspective, this kind of de­monizing destroys spiritual equanimity; it is far preferable to act from an inclusive standpoint, listening to all parties involved rather than taking sides. This approach has traditionally been quite rare in environmental problem solving but is becoming more common now as people grow weary from the dehumanizing nature of enemy making. In a volatile situ­ation, a Buddhist commitment to nondualism can help stabilize negotia­tions and work toward long-term functional relationships.

Buddhist practice is grounded in the fundamental vow of taking refuge in the Three Treasures: the Buddha or teacher, the Dharma or teachings, and the Sangha or practice community. Asian activists usually base their work in relations with local sanghas as an effective grassroots base for accomplishing change. Western Buddhists, handicapped by the Western emphasis on individualism, tend to value sangha practice as the least of the Three Treasures. They tend to be drawn first to the calming influ­ence of meditation and the moral guidelines of the precepts. Practicing with community can be difficult for students living some distance from Buddhist centers and surrounded by a predominantly Judeo-Christian culture. Building community is crucial for Buddhist environmentalists even though they are geographically isolated from each other and some­times marginalized by their own peers in Buddhist centers. This has been mitigated substantially by internet organizing, and now, for example, the Green Sangha based in the San Francisco area has an international pres­ence through its existence on the web.34

Second, let us consider the role for scholars of Buddhist environmen­tal thought and what aspects of Buddhism might inform their work. This new academic field has engaged both traditional scholars who study but do not practice Buddhism as well as those who both study and practice, the scholar-practitioners. Each has strengths to contribute in grow­ing the field of knowledge. Traditional scholars can bring an objective view, placing environmental perspectives in the broader field of Bud­dhist studies, helping to legitimize these discussions. Academics such as

Ian Harris and Alan Sponberg have made such contributions, raising questions about popular green Buddhism and providing accurate histor­ical background.35 Scholar-practitioners such as Rita Gross and Kenneth Kraft bring an experiential understanding of the teachings of their lin­eages to complement their academic training.36 Scholar-practitioners are generally more comfortable and clear about their intention in doing envi­ronmental academic work, that it is motivated by their bodhisattva vows, for example. However, their work is sometimes challenged by academics who imply that "arm's length" engagement in one's scholarly pursuits is not possible for practitioners.

Scholars of either persuasion can bring their well-trained minds and analytic skills to critiquing green Buddhism and challenging ungrounded idealistic interpretations. As Buddhism grows in popularity in the West, it is vulnerable to mistaken views, blurred with New Age ideas of in­dividually designed spirituality. Scholars grounded in the original texts can check emerging ideas for distortions of Buddhist thought. Tibetan Buddhist texts and training are particularly strong in methods of analysis. Judith Simmer-Brown uses these to understand the "empty" nature of globalization and the possibility for other forms of sustainability to arise.37 Ian Harris has examined the popular interpretation of Buddhism as the most environmentally friendly of the world religions, arguing that the historical record shows much more ambivalence.38 Scholars of Buddhist environmental thought are also in a good position to critique the tenets of monotheistic traditions that act as a deterrent to seeking a sustainable future. Rita Gross, for example, has questioned the strong pronatalist po­sitions of the Christian church as problematic in dealing with exponential population growth and its impacts on the planet.39

The strength of academic work in Buddhist environmental thought lies in legitimizing this new field in the eyes of traditional schools of religion and philosophy. Thus far the list of academic volumes address­ing environmental concerns from a Buddhist perspective is still fairly small. Though Buddhist insights are usually included in pan-religious commentaries on the environment, entire volumes by single or mul­tiple Buddhist scholars are quite rare. It is likely that new work will build on the first round of anthologies and take up specific aspects of environmental concern, as Hooked! has done with consumerism. Topics that already lend themselves to academic analysis such as food ethics and animal rights concerns may be the next work to emerge from the greening ivory tower.

What about Buddhist priests, monks, teachers? What strengths do they bring to environmental discourse and action? East or West, ordained Buddhists often are in leadership positions within their local temples. As leaders they can adapt the practice forms to new settings, including concern for the planet as part of their community responsibility. One Zen teacher served only bread and water for a day during a weeklong retreat, using this as a springboard to raise issues of poverty and inequity around the world. Another teacher regularly holds ceremonies for vic­tims of major disasters such as Hurricane Katrina or the earthquake in Pakistan in 2005. Several lay teachers have developed practice forms that take place in the garden to incorporate the presence of plants in memo­rial ceremonies. One Japanese Pure Land priest has galvanized his entire sangha to place solar panels on the roof of the temple to help reduce global climate change.

Buddhist centers that interface with the public can serve as models of environmentally sustainable practices .40 Through architectural de­sign choices and monastic example, visitors can see the possibilities for energy and water conservation. Through exposure to mindful kitchen practice, retreatants can learn about the food they eat and its origins. The leadership role of the head priest or teacher is often necessary for environmental concerns to be emphasized in everyday practice. Where a Buddhist teacher has shown environmental commitment, the centers tend to reflect that commitment. When Vermont Zen Center added a new dining hall and housing wing, head teacher Sunyana Graef led the effort to follow green building principles. With her support, the grounds were transformed through extensive volunteer efforts from community members, returning trees to a suburban lawn and cultivating spaces for thoughtful reflection (such as the lovely Jiso rock garden). In New York, John Daido Loori and his students at Zen Mountain Monastery lead summer canoeing and wilderness programs in the Adirondacks to delib­erately place students in contact with the forces of nature. This has been a hallmark of the center, and Daido honored his concern for the pristine northern mountains by purchasing a piece of lakeshore where students can monitor water quality.

More and more, experienced Buddhist teachers are being asked to provide meditation instruction for environmental advocates. When the ecosattva chapter of the Buddhist Peace Fellowship prepared for pro­tests against old-growth redwood logging in Northern California, they trained at Green Gulch Zen Center. When high-ranking executives in the Trust for Public Land sought to revitalize their commitment to land-conservation values, they developed staff meditation retreats at Vallecitos Mountain Refuge. Thus far; Buddhist practice techniques have been ap­plied much more extensively to hospice and healthcare settings, prison work, and AIDS assistance. But, bit by bit, the work with environmental issues is adding up. In the West, Buddhist meditation instruction is per­ceived to be neutral training available for people of any faith or secular persuasion. It is generally not seen as proselytizing. Environmentalists who tend to reject organized religion and find spiritual fulfillment in the outdoors are open to Buddhist support for their environmental aims. The possibility of this work first emerged in a retreat for environmentalists organized by Thich Nhat Hanh's followers at Ojai, California, in 1993. Thich Nhat Hanh oriented the retreat around taking care of the environ­mentalists, sensing that burnout was rampant for those driven by concern for the plight of so many suffering beings and places.

2] Limitations

So far this would appear to be a rosy picture, filled with useful options for Buddhists interested in supporting environmental action. But critics have already pointed out significant barriers to any extended Buddhist influence in environmental work, at least in the West. One philosophical problem is that there is no single view of nature or environment that crosses all the Buddhist traditions. David Eckel has described in some detail the difference in Indian Buddhist views of nature compared with Japanese views, for example. These views represent very different time periods and cultures; Eckel finds it problematic that Westerners look­ing for the "green" in Buddhism blur over these major distinctions.41 Some have called this process "mining" the tradition for what you want from it, a common human tendency among all the religious traditions, not so different than what is done to support fundamentalist Christian interpretations. Green Buddhism could suffer from the same sort of myopic views unless it encourages further understanding of Buddhism itself.

Further, Buddhism is not a nature religion per se, as are pagan or Native American traditions that base their spiritual understandings on relations with the land and its living beings. The central principles of Buddhism deal with human suffering and liberation from that suffering; the process of insight awareness is not dependent on the land or any physical forms. It is much more of a mental process, cultivating capacities in the human mind. Thus, at its roots, Buddhism does not immediately lend itself to environmental concern. In fact, since the Buddhist approach can work within any situation, environmental sustainability is not necessarily a pre­requisite or,a goal for liberation practice. The practice of detachment to hobble the power of desire could actually work against such environmen­tal values as "sense of place" and "ecological identity."

Alan Sponberg critiques the green Buddhist emphasis on interdepen­dence, suggesting that green Buddhists may be stepping too far away from the core spiritual development challenges in Buddhist training.42 Though the law of interdependence interfaces very well with similar laws of ecology, this alone is not enough, in his opinion, to lead a practitioner to enlightenment. Ian Harris critiques Joanna Macy for taking the meta­phor of Indra's jeweled net too far and missing the original teaching em­phasis, which was on karma, not ecology. He is wary of Buddhist activists who interpret key Buddhist principles too narrowly, from only an envi­ronmental point of view. For Harris, the project of "saving the world" is not a central concern, and dragging Buddhist concepts into the pro­cess may not be necessary or even helpful. He joins Eckel and Lambert Schmidthausen in exposing the lack of concern for animals and nature in many of the Pali Canon texts.43

To this point, green Buddhism has only taken up specific environmen­tal problems primarily in countries that already have a significant Bud­dhist population. Thai forest monks and Sulak Sivaraksa's Grassroots Leadership Training Program have gained some footing in protesting lake pollution, fish die-offs, and clearcutting of forests. Tibetans in exile in India have been able to undertake environmental education programs with local Tibetans, but they have had virtually no impact on the ram­pant exploitation of Tibet's natural resources by the Chinese. In the West, green Buddhists such as the Green Sangha have taken on energy conser­vation and recycling as everyday actions, but their impact has been fairly local. Green Buddhists have not yet been significant players in some of

the Western interfaith environmental initiatives which are making a differ­ence: the global Jubilee Debt forgiveness campaign, religious advocacy for corporate social responsibility through stockholder actions, and the Inter­faith Power and Light movement for alternate energy purchasing. This is partly because green Buddhists are still so few in number, but it may also be because Buddhism as a tradition does not carry the same charge for so­cial justice as the monotheistic traditions. Righting environmental wrongs is often a situation of injustice for those who are harmed, whether plants, animals, ecosystems, or people. Buddhist virtue ethics do address these wrongs, but not with the same fire as Judaism and Christianity.

A further critique of green Buddhism in the West is that it has had so little influence solving real environmental problems in Buddhist coun­tries. For most people it is local environmental problems that catch their attention; possibilities for local action seem more accessible than those on a global scale. As a consequence, few Westerners are actively working to stop or reverse environmental devastation in the countries that spawned their beloved religion. Some members of Buddhist Peace Fellowship have joined in solidarity with the International Network of Engaged Buddhists on their environmental campaigns. But for the most part it is difficult for Westerners to engage Asian problems from afar and from a different cultural perspective. For some Asians, Westerners are seen as part of the problem, due to their disproportionate consumption of planetary resources.

Nevertheless, despite these limitations, interest in Buddhist environ­mental thought and action is very strong in both the West and East. Mis­interpretations, mistaken views, and idealized projections are perhaps inevitable for any young movement as it takes shape. At this point the environmental movement itself is so well established in large and small nonprofit advocacy groups, in state and federal legislation, and in campus sustainability actions that it hardly needs a Buddhist contribution. But in small supportive ways it may be that Buddhism will yet take its place in shaping the direction of environmental problem solving around the globe.

CONCLUSION

Buddhist environmental thought is both ancient and brand new. While many Buddhist principles handed down from centuries ago seem broadly

applicable to environmental concerns, articulating those applications is still a very new project of the last few decades. Scholars of Buddhist en­vironmental thought have many topics yet to address. Green Buddhist activists have barely begun to make a unified impact. This is a movement of both thought and action to track over the next few decades.

Has a Buddhist environmental movement coalesced around the globe? Not at all. Only a tiny handful of organizations have been formed to pro­mote Buddhist environmental views and approaches. No clearly defined environmental agenda or set of principles has been agreed upon by any group of self-identified green Buddhists. All this is perhaps too much to expect of a fledgling movement. It may yet be that in ten years many more books will have been published offering Buddhist views regarding environmental concerns. It may yet be that green Buddhist centers will be established for the express purpose of fostering environmental sus-tainability, a sort of green Catholic Worker house model. As more and more serious students in the West become teachers and temple leaders, some may take up leadership roles cultivating mindfulness around envi­ronmental issues.

What is completely unknown is what larger forces and events will shape all environmental concern and activity. In 2005 and then again in 2017 the record number of hurricane-strength storms generated more environmental disasters than communities could handle effec­tively. Global climate change, the shrinking supply of oil, and the lack of available drinking water may be much more powerful forces shaping human behavior than any religious tradition. All this is yet to unfold. But certainly Buddhists of all traditions and cultures would be welcome to join the much-needed efforts to turn the tide from further planetary destruction.

S Kaza, Green Buddhism content & intro

 Green Buddhism Stephanie Kaza

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Contents

 Introduction                                                        vii

Part One: Intimate Relations

i. Field of Bright Spirit

2.Window Guest

i

3

I0

3.Buddhist Perspectives on Teaching and Doing Science

'3

4.Conversations with Trees

30

5.Gary Snyder: Heart-to-Heart Instructions in Nonduality

38

6.Tea Mind, Earth Mind

53

Part Two: Envisioning Green Buddhism

63

2.The Greening of Buddhism

65

3.John Daido Loon: A Deep and Enduring Love

88

. A Community of Attention

93

io. How Much Is Enough?

I0I

ii. The Attentive Heart                                        118

12.Ethics Matter: Following the Green Practice Path 124

13.Joanna Macy: Fierce Heart-Mind Warrior          '39

Part Three: Acting with Compassion                         '49

12. Forging the Spirit through Climate Change Practice '5'

Buddhist Contributions to Climate Response         '57

12.  Sulak Sivaraksa: Spiritual Friendship in Buddhist Activism          '7'

 

17.Acting with Compassion: Buddhism, Feminism,

 

and the Environmental Crisis

178

17.Practicing with Greed

192

18.Becoming a Real Person

198

19.Following the Path of Kindness

205

20.The Gift of the Dark Time

213

Notes

219

Resources

235

Credits

237

Index

241

 

 

 

Introduction

MY JOURNEY TO GREEN BUDDHISM, AT LEAST AS I -tell the story now, began when I first discovered light. It was the early 1950S, and I was five years old, sitting on the deck off my bedroom in Buffalo, New York, held by the soft shadows of the big apple tree. The shimmering leaves, the dancing light and dark, had me spellbound in its radiance. Across the afternoon the light shifted and the sun dropped lower in the sky. I didn't want to leave. This light show was the center of the universe. Some great mystery penetrated my young consciousness. What was it?

Though I dutifully attended Sunday school, I could not connect this church activity with what I'd encountered. Four years later, when my family drove across the vast North American continent to move to Portland, Oregon, there it was again, gleaming in the craggy Rocky Mountains. Here was a staggering sky-rock space on a scale way beyond anything I'd ever known. A magnificent landscape, mountains of such measure I could not even comprehend what I was seeing. Far beyond the barbs of family squabbles, something very, very big entered my nine-year-old mind.

My teen years were marked by the usual school and community ac­tivities, but now I was in a different place. Oregon became home for my soul while I was struggling to become human. The sweeping tides of the Pacific Ocean, the iconic waterfalls of the Columbia Gorge, and most of all, the towering forests of the Northwest. All these shaped my sense of orientation, my sense of place, my sense of deep time and life before humans.

Vii

When I began my studies at Oberlin College, I felt sure I would con­centrate on the sciences. I had taken physics, chemistry, math, biology, and I was fascinated by dissection; I thought I would become a surgeon. A year into the rich liberal arts curriculum, I went into traumatic paral­ysis trying to choose a major, a single perspective, a single worldview. It seemed impossible. Eventually I majored in biology; which confirmed my love of beauty in the complexity of life forms.

In my first ecology course I was introduced to a relational view, now standard in environmental studies and ecological sciences. Seeing organ­isms alive and in context felt much more satisfying than observing them as taxonomic specimens. By the time I graduated, ecological problems were surfacing at a despair-inducing rate, and I found myself absorbed by the plight of whales. The Vietnam War tore apart any sense of stability and meaning in my small world; I nearly lost my first great love to the killing fields. What made sense in this tragic insanity?

Not until things settled down could I turn my attention back to the mystery. By then I was exploring the magical California gateways of ocean, redwoods, dance, and ritual. When my dance teacher went to Naropa Institute in Boulder, Colorado, I followed her the next summer. High in the mountain air, sitting by clear water, listening to Chogyam Trungpa teach, I fell in lovewith everything! I learned to meditate, I absorbed the Buddhist creativity of Allen Ginsberg and Philip Glass, and found myself at a turning point.

When I returned to Santa Cruz I took up a sitting practice on my own and sat every day for five years in steadfast devotion. To what? I knew hardly anything about Buddhism, but meditation seemed like a good thing to do. Only after I finished a PhD, taught environmental ethics, couldn't get a job, and tried living in a Mendocino hippie commune, did I consider formal Zen practice. I moved into a small sangha house at the Santa Cruz Zen Center, took up daily practice as a way of life, and met my eventual ordination teacher, Kobun Chino Otogawa.

The next years took me further into both Zen and nature, as I worked first with the Point Reyes Bird Observatory and later with UC Berke­ley Botanic Garden as education director. I learned the native birds and plants, the soils and rocks of northern California, and roamed the trails of Mount Tamalpais and beaches of Point Reyes. Somehow I found my way to Green Gulch Zen Center and was able to live there as a student for three years. I was lucky to be able to hear Thich Nihat HanWs early teach­ings in the United States and to join his experimental retreats for children and environmentalists. His precepts of interbeing and his way of lead­ing walking meditation had a profound effect on my Buddhist practice. I was exposed to many fine Buddhist teachers in the Bay Area such as Jack Kornfield, Maylie Scott, Norman Fischer, Blanche Hartman, and Steve Stucky, among others. I helped to organize conferences on women and Buddhism and socially engaged Buddhism and went on as many retreats as I could afford. Then a period of serious illness in my thirties led me to ponder (in a Zen sort of way), "What next?" What really was my life path?

In a somewhat unexpected turn, I followed one halting step after an­other and landed at Starr King School for the Ministry in Berkeley where I studied ethics and theology. Here I gained considerable depth in under­standing human values and social systems and had the good fortune to take a class with Joanna Macy, one of the pioneers of green Buddhism in America. I volunteered for social action causes with the Buddhist Peace Fellowship and took my meditation into the marketplace. I walked the hills and paths of coastal Mann County in every season. I wrote reflec­tive essays about relations with trees that eventually became a book (The Attentive Heart: Conversations with Trees). Where all this was going was quite unclear at the time. I seriously considered entering the Unitarian ministry, but when I realized all my sermon topics were about the envi­ronment, I decided undergraduates were a better audience; After many letters of rejection and dashed hopes, I was offered a faculty position with the Environmental Program at the University of Vermont.

At that time, there was almost no dialogue between world religions and the natural sciences and almost no moral reflection on environmen­tal concerns outside the academy. In the 19905 the field of Religion and Ecology was born and I was quickly invited to bring my knowledge of Buddhism to interfaith dialogue. I flowed right into all the emerging conferences drawing attention to the crises we faced, and thus, my ac­ademic scholarship took shape. That long career of speaking and writ­ing has yielded a good number of books, articles, speeches, and practice challenges. This volume represents a selection of that work, updated and drawn together here for the first time.

For me, green Buddhism has been a practice field for personal insight and social activism, as well as intellectual engagement. In my writing I have lifted up central Buddhist principles of compassion and nonharm-ing, interdependence and no separate self. These themes appear in many

of the pieces in this book, applied broadly to conservation, consumer­ism, ecological culture, and climate change. I highlight the practices of mindfulness and lovingkindness central to the early Pali texts and Thera-vada traditions. As a Zen student, I bring out Mahayana teachings on the bodhisattva way as a path to liberation, right in the midst of our environ­mental crisis. Like other Western Buddhist environmentalists, I find tremendous value in the Chinese Hua Yen teaching of Indra's net, a concept that demonstrates parallels between Buddhist philosophy, ecological sci­ence, and modern systems thinking. Interdependence, emptiness of self, and the diagnostic frame of the Four Noble Truths are all key themes in my writing.

Among my primary teachers and influences in this work are Buddhist scholars Kenneth Kraft, Ruben Habito, Rita Gross, Judith Simmer

Brown, and David Chapple. I am grateful for their committed scholar

practitioner roles in engaged Buddhism and their invitations to participate in stimulating Buddhist-Christian dialogue. I also draw strongly on the Buddhist activism of Joanna Macy in despair and empowerment work, Sulak Sivaraksa in global development, and Paula Green in nonviolence and peace studies. All three bring an inspiring depth of scholarship and

global awareness to their Buddhist-informed life work. As a writer, I

rejoice in the penetrating and elegant writing of Gary Snyder, Gretel Ehrlich, W. S. Merwin, and Mary Oliver. These lovers of words, land, and

place have moved me with their Buddhist understanding of the passing and profound beauty of the planet. To walk in some of their landscapes and hear their words has been a great gift for the heart.

My foundational training in Buddhism was shaped by teachers Kobun Chino Otogawa and Thich Nhat Hahn (whom his students call "Thây,"

Vietnamese for "teacher"). Kobun was a poet, calligrapher, a drifting

cloud, the most gentle and welcoming teacher. I loved sitting with him at Jikoji among the bay trees with the sliding doors of the zendo open to the summer air. Walking and singing with Thây at Santa Maria, sur­rounded by children, was a sweet delight. I appreciated the fresh lan­guage of Thây's precepts, his gathas, his poetic expressions of interbeing. At Green Gulch, I learned from Abbot Norman Fischer, and I carry his marriage ceremony blessing with me always. I met Robert Aitken at the first Buddhism in Action meditation retreat I helped to organize with the Buddhist Peace Fellowship; his talks on the paramitas and his personal activism forged the frame for my own actions. While I lived in Vermont, John Daido Loori was an important touchstone for me, with his deep practice, keen eye, and great love for the natural world. Though my Bud­dhist path took me to Zen, I have read almost everything by His Holiness the Dalai Lama, and I will never forget being with him in Dharamsala across a weeklong interfaith dialogue conference.

Most of the works presented here have been shared with other audiences, sometimes in obscure or popular contexts, other times in formal book chapters or academic journals. A number of them have been excerpted or adapted for the purposes of this volume. Original sources are indicated for all chapters, and additional references can be found in the notes section. They are grouped in three parts: "Intimate Relations," "Envisioning Green Buddhism," and "Acting with Compassion."

In part i, "Intimate Relations," I explore experiences of nonduality, seeking intimacy free of the usual conditioning of self. In this I draw on my scientific training in natural history and ecology as well as my exposure to Buddhist practice in the West. The pieces in this section are about the attentive mind and the desire to fully meet others as complete beings, whatever the circumstance. My core understanding of direct ex­perience and intimacy with all beings comes from thirteenth-century Zen master Eihei DOgen, whose teachings offer a lifetime of inquiry and contemplation.

In part 2, "Envisioning Green Buddhism," I offer manifestations of green Buddhism, with examples and stories of how this practice field has taken form in current times. Profiles of leading green Buddhist thinkers are mixed in with my own personal experience, as well as discussions of practical applications for this way of seeing the world. The history of green Buddhism is wider than my own path, of course, but I have been delighted to observe the groundswell of interest across my lifetime, glad for these rich teachings to reach so many seekers. I offer my own vision of the green practice path and possibilities for deepening green Buddhist practice in community.

In part 3, "Acting with Compassion," I share some of my own strug­gles and reflections trying to practice with such difficult conundrums as climate change and runaway consumption. I look at the interdependent

concerns of green Buddhism, ecology, and feminism, and the challenge of embodying the green practice path. I highlight spiritual friendship and kindness as two critical ingredients in practicing compassion. It seems to me that the environmental work of this century will ask much more of us than we can now imagine. I believe it will be helpful to place that work in the context of a steady spiritual practice, knowing the work will go on beyond our own lifetimes.

Now more than ever, I feel that what matters most is the practice it­self: embodying the precepts, practicing mindfulness, offering gratitude and kindness, challenging delusion. I am deeply indebted to the lineages of both ecological and Buddhist thought and grateful for this lifework at the meeting place of ancient tradition and modern challenge. My love of the natural world has been well met and supported by environmental colleagues and friends, especially Brett Engstrom, Betsy Brigham, Ian Worley, and Greg de Nevers. Thank you for keeping my field senses alive across the years. The lifetime of effort in this book has been graced by the deep encouragement of dharma friends Wendy Johnson, Paula Green, Christian McEwen, Ken Kraft, and Nancy Wright. I offer my grateful heart and nine bows to each of them. And finally, a deep floor bow to my life partner and tree lover, Davis Te Selle: our practice life together is an ocean of blessing beyond measure.