This is a major anthropological study of contemporary Tibetan Buddhist monasticism and tantric ritual in the Ladakh region of North-West India and of the role of tantric ritual in the formation and maintenance of traditional forms of state structure and political consciousness in Tibet. Containing detailed descriptions and analyses of monastic ritual, the work builds up a picture of Tibetan tantric traditions as they interact with more localised understandings of bodily identity and territorial cosmology, to (...) produce a substantial re-interpretation of the place of monks as ritual performers and peripheral householders in Ladakh. The work also examines the central and indispensable role of incarnate lamas, such as the Dalai Lama, in the religious life of Tibetan Buddhists. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Identity, Ritual and State in Tibetan Buddhism: The Foundations of Authority in Gelukpa MonasticismChristian P. B. HaskettIdentity, Ritual and State in Tibetan Buddhism: The Foundations of Authority in Gelukpa Monasticism. By Martin A. Mills. London: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003. 404 + xxi pp. with 12 black and white plates.In Tibetan Buddhism, there is a type of teaching called a dmar khrid, a "red instruction," wherein (...) the lama brings students through a teaching as a physician might dissect a corpse, pointing out and explaining the various parts and organs and their places and functions. In Identity, Ritual and State in Tibetan Buddhism, Martin Mills has done very much the same thing, with the exception that the body he examines is still very much alive, and emerges, to my eyes at least, as a new and wholly vital entity. Mills exposes the subcutaneous and sanguine body of Tibetan Buddhism, the bones and muscles that make up its structure, the blood that flows through it, and the organs that keep it alive, in "a plain and open manner," just as in a dmar khrid.1 The value of such a presentation truly cannot be overstated. An attempt to catalog the contents of each chapter would be both impossible and counterproductive, as the wealth of theoretical material and ethnographic detail is a large part of what makes this book so powerful. Instead, I will identify several topics, several of the vital organs alluded to, that are either not commonly noticed in the academic study of Buddhism, or that are given fresh perspective by Mills's anthropological and sociological methodology, and that are so crucial to understanding how it is that Buddhism lives in a typical Himalayan village. The latter portion of this review explains why I place such high value on this book and its potential place in Buddhist-Christian studies.Identity, Ritual and State is an ethnography of Kumbum Monastery in Lingshed, Ladakh (the eastern half of the Kashmir valley, located in Jammu and Kashmir, India), but its concerns are much more far-reaching than a single remote Himalayan village. The central question of the work is "how we are to understand the nature of religious authority in Tibetan Buddhist monasticism" (p. xiii), although it might more properly be the religious authority of Tibetan [End Page 187] Buddhist monastics. This answer is worked out in three overlapping areas of analysis: local ritual activity, ecclesiastical structure of the monastery, and the ritual foundations of Tibetan political thought (p. xvii).Mills convincingly asserts that there is a framework within which Buddhism happens in the Himalayas. The starting point of this framework is birth itself, which establishes the embodied person. The very physicality of personhood has several implications. First, the body is embedded in a very specific local space and place, and personhood is thus not only embodied, but also chthonic—intimately bound up with the earth or soil onto which it is born. At birth, persons are injected into a complex matrix of relations between people and various spirits, such as household gods and protectors, nāga, and itinerant demons. For example, Lingshed is divided into seven subterritories, each under the jurisdiction of a local deity whose physical abode and reign are well known to all in the village.2 These deities are associated with features of the local geography, and they regulate and influence local agricultural and social production, so birth in one area or another signifies a relation with the deity presiding over it. The land itself is imbued with a notion of personhood and agency. The human body is also the repository for pollution (sgrib), which comes about as a result of violating the established hierarchy of space and place and from bringing about changes to the local matrix of embodied persons. Both bodily pollution concerns and the need for proper relations with local spirit numina mandate definite, ongoing ritual attention. Rituals are occasioned in response to births, deaths, spirit possession, unintentional pollution of places or household objects, and movements within the monastic ecclesiastical structure, or happen regularly according to an astrologically and agriculturally influenced calendar.Rituals are performed by monks not only because they are trained specialists, but because... (shrink)

"Introducing Tibetan Buddhism is the ideal starting point for students wishing to undertake a comprehensive study of Tibetan religion. This lively introduction covers the whole spectrum of Tibetan religious history, from early figures and the development of the old and new schools of Buddhism to the spread and influence of Tibetan Buddhism throughout the world. Geoffrey Samuel covers the key schools and traditions, as well as Bon, and bodies of textual material, including the writings of major (...) lamas. He explores aspects such as the path to liberation through Sutra and Tantra teachings, philosophy, ethics, ritual, and issues of gender and national identity. Illustrated throughout, the book includes a chronology, glossary, pronunciation guide, summaries, discussion questions and recommendations for further reading to aid students' understanding and revision"--. (shrink)

The Mahāyāna ideal isaprati $$\underset{\raise0.3em\hbox{$\smash{\scriptscriptstyle\cdot}$}}{s} \underset{\raise0.3em\hbox{$\smash{\scriptscriptstyle\cdot}$}}{t} $$ hā-nirvā $$\underset{\raise0.3em\hbox{$\smash{\scriptscriptstyle\cdot}$}}{n} $$ a — liberation with a basis in neithersa $$\underset{\raise0.3em\hbox{$\smash{\scriptscriptstyle\cdot}$}}{m} $$ sāra nornirvā $$\underset{\raise0.3em\hbox{$\smash{\scriptscriptstyle\cdot}$}}{n} $$ a, that is to say, neither in the conventional world nor in the true nature of all things (Nagao 1981). Through the consecration proceedings ayidam, Buddha, or Bodhisattva is established insa $$\underset{\raise0.3em\hbox{$\smash{\scriptscriptstyle\cdot}$}}{m} $$ sāra. Through the employment of the mirror in the consecration ritual, thatyidam, Buddha, or Bodhisattva participates in the actual nature of all things (...) as they are — unestablished, devoid of own nature, like reflected images in a mirror. If the mirror does not resolve the paradox of consecrating the unconsecratable, it holds up a mirror to the impossible mystery of transcendent immanence. (shrink)

A groundbreaking study of the lost tradition of Tibetan Zen containing the first translations of key texts from one thousand years ago. Banned in Tibet, forgotten in China, the Tibetan tradition of Zen was almost completely lost to us. According to Tibetan histories, Zen teachers were invited to Tibet from China in the 8th century, at the height of the Tibetan Empire. When doctrinal disagreements developed between Indian and Chinese Buddhists at the Tibetan court, the (...) Tibetan emperor called for a formal debate. When the debate resulted in a decisive win by the Indian side, the Zen teachers were sent back to China, and Zen was gradually forgotten in Tibet. This picture changed at the beginning of the 20th century with the discovery in Dunhuang (in Chinese Central Asia) of a sealed cave full of manuscripts in various languages dating from the first millennium CE. The Tibetan manuscripts, dating from the 9th and 10th centuries, are the earliest surviving examples of Tibetan Buddhism. Among them are around 40 manuscripts containing original Tibetan Zen teachings. This book translates the key texts of Tibetan Zen preserved in Dunhuang. The book is divided into ten sections, each containing a translation of a Zen text illuminating a different aspect of the tradition, with brief introductions discussing the roles of ritual, debate, lineage, and meditation in the early Zen tradition. Van Schaik not only presents the texts but also explains how they were embedded in actual practices by those who used them. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 20 (2000) 84-89 [Access article in PDF] Christian Views on Ritual Practice Concerning Ritual Practice and Ethics in Buddhism Donald W. MitchellPurdue UniversityThe three papers presented by this panel have given me a much greater knowledge about, and appreciation for, the relationship between ritual practice and ethical action in Tibetan, Zen, and Nichiren Buddhism. I would like to respond to each of the (...) papers one at a time from a Christian point of view by making certain comparisons with the connection between Christian ethics and ritual practice. Let me begin by raising a comparative five points concerning Stephanie Kaza's wonderful description [End Page 84] and insightful analysis of the function of ritual in nurturing authentic personhood in Zen.First, it seems that the practice of ritual in Zen demands a degree of self-sacrifice which in turn aids in the cultivation of the virtue of selflessness. For example, Kaza says that through the participation in ritual practice, "the student is freed from his or her own individual designs and preferences... not asking any questions but just trying to do it better and more fully each time." Or elsewhere Kaza concludes, "Zen ritual is a training ground for intensive practice in giving up the small ego-bound self." In a similar way for the Christian, the self-sacrifice demanded in ritual performance can be seen as nurturing selflessness in the context of community--as aiding one in giving up one's ego in order to participate more fully in the communal life of agape. But more than this, the value of selfless participation in the Christian community that is reinforced by the ritual is connected to a call for future action: It calls one to contribute selflessly together with others to building the reign of God. In Christianity, the performing of ritual with others sensitizes one to the fact that he or she is part of the church working for a collective love and unity that manifests in human community the very holiness of the unity and love of the Trinity. One is thus called within the sacred ritual environment to bring this love and unity into one's everyday environment through ethical behavior.Second, besides selflessness, another positive quality that is cultivated through ritual practice is mindful awareness. As Kaza states in regard to the meal ritual, this practice "cultivates mindful awareness... if one merges wholeheartedly with the process, the meal itself becomes a lesson in co-dependent arising." In other words, the ritual performance brings to mind an awareness of fundamental reality according to Buddhism, namely, dependent arising. Being aware of mutual interdependence brings a deeper sense of compassion for all beings, and a more focused inspiration to act morally on their behalf. So, too, in Christianity, ritual is seen to be a "social drama" that brings to awareness the reality of the mystical body of Christ, the church, being the social form of Jesus Christ in the world. Ritual, as a sacred and dramatic social manifestation of the church, brings this communal reality of Christ to the Christian's mindful awareness by breaking into the secular structures of ordinary consciousness. Furthermore, the ritual also guides, forms, inspires, strengthens, and encourages the participants to re-enter that ordinary life committed to living the values and ideals expressed in the ritual. The formative power of the ritual performance lies, in part, in the fact that ritual ties ideas, values, and ideals to sensual and emotional stimuli in a way that, in the words of Victor Turner, "connects the obligatory into the desirable" (The Forest of Symbols, 1967).Third, Kaza shows how ritual in Zen helps to convey the tradition and promote solidarity within the community. She says that ritual in Zen: "promotes healthy sangha through sharing the stability and continuity of traditional practice forms... which generate a culture of the larger body--familiar and supportive." In Christianity, too, the multidimensional expressions of the ritual performance--the physical movements, sounds, music, smells, verbal articulations, etc.--all blend together in ways that pass on certain ideas, ideals, and values... (shrink)

Contextualising the seemingly esoteric and exotic aspects of Tibetan Buddhist culture within the everyday, embodied and sensual sphere of religious praxis, this book centres on the social and religious lives of deceased Tibetan Buddhist lamas. It explores how posterior forms - corpses, relics, reincarnations and hagiographical representations - extend a lama's trajectory of lives and manipulate biological imperatives of birth, aging and death. The book looks closely at previously unexamined figures whose history is relevant to a better understanding (...) of how Tibetan culture navigates its own understanding of reincarnation, the veneration of relics, and different social roles of different types of practitioners. It analyses both the minutiae of everyday interrelations between lamas and their devotees, specifically noted in ritual performances and the enactment of lived tradition, as well as the sacred hagiographical conventions that underpin local knowledge. A phenomenology of Tibetan Buddhist life, the book provides an ethnography and insight of the embodiment of Tibetan Buddhism in everyday life. This unusual approach offers a valuable and a genuine new perspective on Tibetan Buddhist culture, and is of interest to researchers in the fields of social/cultural anthropology, religious, Buddhist and Tibetan studies. (shrink)

Rediscover the Promise of Enlightenment As Western culture has embraced practices like meditation and yoga, has something been lost in translation? “What we see in America today in both the yoga boom and mindfulness fad,” writes Dr. Miles Neale, “is a presentation of technique alone, sanitized and purged of the dynamic teachings in wisdom and ethics that are essential for true liberation.” For anyone seeking a path dedicated to both authentic personal growth and the overthrow of the nihilism, hedonism, and (...) materialism that are threatening our planet, this compelling teacher presents a well-conceived, sustainable solution with Gradual Awakening. The core of this book is Tibetan Buddhism’s “gradual path”—or Lam Rim—interpreted with fresh insights from modern scientific research. Offering an illuminating new presentation of Tibet’s deep psychology, meditative techniques, and virtuous rituals, Dr. Neale presents a time-honored path of enormous transformational potential. Each chapter serves as a practical manual that will allow you to experiment with and actualize the benefits of role-modeling visualization, affirmations, contemplative themes, textual recitation, prayers, altars, offerings, and meditation. Here you’ll explore: • Uprooting the “sickness of paradigm”—why a complete spiritual practice must directly confront the fundamental human suffering caused by the modern ethos of scientific reductionism • The Lam Rim path—the history, heritage, and power of this 30-step “hero’s journey” of awakening • Evolutionary self-care—understanding the Buddhist concept of renunciation as a form of self-love and healing • Radical altruism—awakening Bodhicitta, our innate aspiration to evolve fully in service to others • Quantum vision—how the teaching of “emptiness” allows us to pierce the illusion of materialism and accurately perceive the subtlest nature of reality • Dr. Neale’s MAPS process (Maturity, Acceptance, Possibility, and Seeds) to integrate and manifest key insights and skills in your everyday life The mass-market dilutions of Eastern wisdom that focus on symptom relief and easy answers have left behind the ultimate promise of spiritual practice: enlightenment. “Enlightenment is an unfolding process—open to everyone.” writes Dr. Neale. For most of us, this path to awakening must be realized through a gradual process: building on incremental insights into who we truly are, learning to care for ourselves and others, and discovering creative ways to engage the problems we all face. Gradual Awakening will serve as a lifelong companion for anyone willing to embrace a new paradigm that integrates science with spirit, theory with practice, and personal meditation with the desire to transform the world. A portion of the proceeds from this book will benefit the Buddhist nuns of Kopan Nunnery in Nepal. (shrink)

This unique study reads a single Tibetan Buddhist ritual system through the movements of Tibetan history, revealing the social and material dimensions of a seemingly timeless tradition. By subjecting tantric practice to historical analysis, the book offers new insight into the origins of Tibetan Buddhism, the formation of its canon, the emergence of new lineages and ritual traditions, and efforts to revitalize the religion by returning to its mythic origins. The ritual system explored in (...) this volume is based on the _Gathering of Intentions Sutra_, the fundamental "root tantra" of the Anuyoga class of teachings belonging to the Nyingma school of Tibetan Buddhism. Proceeding chronologically from the ninth century to the present, each chapter features a Tibetan author negotiating a perceived gap between the original root text--the _Gathering of Intention_s--and the lived religious or political concerns of his day. This ongoing tension underscores the entanglement between Tibetan culture and its elaborate esoteric ritual systems, which have persisted for centuries, evolving in response to historical conditions. Rather than overlooking practice in favor of abstract philosophical concerns, this volume prioritizes Tibetan Buddhism's ritual systems for a richer portrait of the tradition's identity. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 20 (2000) 54-59 [Access article in PDF] Buddhist Views on Ritual Pactice Mahayana Buddhist Ritual and Ethical Activity in the World John MakranskyBoston College Society of Buddhist Christian Studies Meeting, Orlando, Florida, November 20, 1998 Contemporary attempts to derive a present-day social ethic from traditional Buddhism usually stem from doctrinal understandings and higher practices of meditation, often overlooking Buddhist ritual practice as a source (...) of ethical formation and expression.Philosophical study of Buddhism alone may leave one's capacity for ethical response untouched. Rigorous contemplative practices of Vipassana, Zen, or higher Tibetan meditation are out of the reach of many. Ritual forms have provided ways for Buddhists from all walks of life to become attuned to the same subtle dimensions of body, speech, and mind that higher Buddhist philosophy and meditation engage. Ritual also serves as means to empower and deepen philosophical inquiry and meditation. We do well not to forget the unique power of Buddhist ritual to include the many (not only the elite) in the most profound dimensions of Buddhist ethical understanding, formation, and expression.The relative obscurity of ritual practice in contemporary consideration of Buddhist social ethics may also obscure from view some of Buddhism's past social-ethical expressions, which have sometimes taken symbolic ritual forms, rather than organized social outreach of the sort we are accustomed to identify as social-ethical activity. Buddhist ritual-contemplative forms have been viewed as ways to perform social service within and through the mythico-magical cosmoses of Asian traditions: cosmoses of buddhas, bodhisattvas, and myriad powerful, sacred beings. Since Asian Buddhists understand these cosmoses to interpenetrate our world, many of their ritual-contemplative practices are intended to perform needed social functions, within a broad context of universal salvation: healing, treating pain, treating mental illness, promoting economic well-being, preventing and assisting in disasters, protecting the helpless, easing the transition of death....Contemporary Buddhist ethics tend to de-emphasize the ritualistic and devotional aspects of Buddhism to newly emphasize material resources and strategies for social transformation which can be related to higher Buddhist philosophy. While this is important, there is a danger that contemporary Buddhists, by reinterpreting practice as social service too exclusively in modern, material terms, may dilute rather than reinforce the ontological and epistemological intuitions of Buddhism, losing touch with time-tested means for persons to actually learn to embody an ultimate source of ethical response that transcends ontological assumptions of modern, secular thought. [End Page 54] By experiencing social service as a natural extension of ritual activity, each element of such service symbolically expresses an ultimate source of ethical response within a path of ultimate transformation, reinforcing rather than diluting the deepest intuitions of Buddhism even as Buddhist practice takes new social-ethical expression in our world.As an example, I will focus on one of the earliest and most popular continually practiced Buddhist rituals of Indo-Tibetan Buddhism: the Bhadracaryapranidhana ("resolution of excellent practice") which appears within the Avatamsaka sutra. This practice, further delineated in treatises ascribed to Nagarjuna, Asan(dot)ga, Vasubandhu, S´antideva and many others, consists of seven ritual activities: bowing, offering, confession, ritual rejoicing, requesting teaching, entreating the buddhas to continually manifest, and dedication of karmic merit.The ritual appears at the end of the Avatamsaka sutra, a scripture thousands of folios long in Tibetan translation. What follows is my own condensed commentary on the first portion of the ritual, which aims to correlate its elements with the fuller context of practice and visionary experience described in the sutra as a whole.The ritual takes place set within the nirvanic realms of infinite buddhas, bodhisattvas, and holy beings whose salvific power and activity penetrate all realms of living beings who remain caught in the sufferings of sam.sara. To enter into the ritual is not merely to visualize these intersecting dimensions of nirvanic and samsaric existence, but to have one's body, speech, and mind symbolically entered into the stream of practice of all buddhas and bodhisattvas past, present, and future, to participate through all senses and movements of thought... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Rita Gross's Contribution to Contemporary Western Tibetan BuddhismJudith Simmer-BrownI first met Rita Gross on 2 January 1978, on the day of my arrival to take a professor's post at Naropa University. She opened the front door of Reggie Ray's house, where she was a houseguest. Little did I know how long and active our friendship would be, and I'm delighted to contribute to this very special panel on (...) her work. During the decades since, she has been the only person in my life who has intersected academia, dharmic realms, feminism, and interreligious dialogue, the four most important areas of my life; still, I think it is in the area of her scholarly and personal contributions to Tibetan Buddhism that I can speak most directly.When I met Rita, she was new to Tibetan Buddhism and had faced many challenges in her religious and spiritual journey. When she was excommunicated from the German Lutheran Church at age twenty-one, it was because she asked too many questions and expressed too many opinions. She has never stopped. She briefly explored Judaism, and then became enamored in her feminist studies with the goddess traditions of India, also an interest of mine. She has been able to bring her critical mind, her devotional heart, her connection to practice, and her appreciation of community directly into her life as a Tibetan Buddhist, and I have had the privilege of being by her side during most of it.After Rita began her meditation practice in the mid-1970s, she became a student of the great Kagyu-Nyingma master Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, who is also my teacher. She and I have done meditation and study retreats from a few days to three months in length, sharing ritual practice, teachings and discussions, and challenging lives together as members of a vibrant spiritual community around a charismatic teacher. Together we served as the senior members of the Task Force on Women and the Feminine Principle in the large, international Shambhala community. Eventually, she took on another teacher, the female tulku Ven. Khandro Rinpoche, whom I also dearly love, and she has become one of her senior dharma teachers, or lopons. All of this has occurred while I became a senior dharma teacher, an ācārya, of Shambhala, where we both began.In her time in these two lively Western Tibetan Buddhist communities, she has [End Page 69] Buddhist-Christian Studies 31 (2011) 69-74. © by University of Hawai'i Press. All rights reserved. served as an accomplished dharma teacher and at alternating times a scholar, activist, and critic, while committing to thousands of hours of service to the development of a genuinely Western dharma. While doing this, she has made many contributions equivalent to those of many dedicated dharma students. My comments address the unique contributions she has made as a feminist scholar, historian of religion, and theologian to this western dharmic world.Ironically, our areas of specialty have also intertwined. Early in the 1980s we began a book project with SUNY that was to be a feminist critique of Buddhism (hers) and a Buddhist critique of feminism (mine). After several years of conversation and discussion, Rita and I decided that our agendas were sufficiently different and our styles sufficiently independent to warrant separate books. As our books emerged (mine two babies later than hers), our friendship has continued its evolution.The Prophetic VoiceThe first of Rita's unique contributions to Tibetan Buddhism in the West revolve around what she has called her "prophetic voice," a notion that first appeared in her landmark book, Buddhism after Patriarchy, in 1993. Rita has consistently asserted that the prophetic voice is "the missing element" in Buddhism, leading Buddhists to a kind of double standard in which teachings concerning compassion coexist with Buddhism's traditional disregard for social and political inequities in society. She claims that "Buddhists have generally not been willing to engage in social action to see the realization of that ethic" in these social and political realms, and speculates that for the Buddhist, individual liberation has taken precedence over societal transformation. Instead, Buddhists have a long-standing history of acceptance of the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Sound of Two Hands Clapping: The Education of a Tibetan Buddhist MonkChristian P. B. HaskettThe Sound of Two Hands Clapping: The Education of a Tibetan Buddhist Monk. By Georges B. J. Dreyfus. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003. 445 + xv pp.Georges Dreyfus is a uniquely valuable contributor to the academic study of Tibetan Buddhism. He is the first Westerner to have received the (...) Geshe degree, signifying a thorough mastery of the curriculum of the Geluk (dge lugs) school, and in his latest work, The Sound of Two Hands Clapping, he not only displays the critical acumen produced by that education, but also candidly reveals the personal details of life as a monk in a Buddhist monastic university. This alone should commend this project to the attention of readers seriously interested in Buddhism; however, Dreyfus also gives us a work of scholarship of religion that is exemplary in its capacity to use a single topic as a starting point to explain vast swathes of religion and culture. A brief overview of the chapters precedes my assessment of the book's successes and its importance for Buddhist-Christian studies.The first chapter gives a brief historical overview of Tibetan Buddhism. Those with a passing acquaintance with Tibetan history will find little new information here, but Dreyfus does manage to succinctly and accurately present 1300 years of religious history in a mere fifteen pages. Chapter 2, "Tibetan Monasticism," takes up the context in which most Buddhist scholastic activity occurs, "describing...some of its characteristics and discussing its strengths without hiding its drawbacks" (p.33). Dreyfus moves from a depiction of the Indian precedents and textual foundations of monasticism in general to a discussion of the mass monastic movement in Tibet. His assessment is unsparing but nonjudgmental as he describes monks as tax collectors, ritual actors, priests, and even "punk-monks." In the third chapter "Becoming a Monk," the personal and autobiographical nature of Two Hands Clapping begins to emerge as Dreyfus relates his own personal experience of entering [End Page 192] monastic life interwoven with accounts of both the normative Tibetan standards and the present-day situation of Tibetan monastics. These vivid reports detail the sleep deprivation, poor diet, and rigorous lives of exiled monks, and the genuine affection that those who endure these circumstances feel for one another. This chapter also examines the differing roles of teachers as housemasters, scholastic preceptors, and gurus, and begins introducing several teachers with whom Dreyfus studied. These three chapters comprise the first section, "The Context."Despite the title and cover picture of a debating monk, this book is a study of the full range of scholastic monastic practices. Dreyfus begins his far-ranging comparisons to other religious educational traditions such as yeshivas and medieval European monasticism in the second section, "Tibetan Scholastic Practices." Chapter 4 looks at reading and memorization, considering literacy and education in Tibet first. His discussion of memorization comprises details of memorization practices and a good but not overwhelming discussion of modern psychological theory on memorization and mind. Chapter 5 presents the curriculum followed by Tibetan monks and identifies a key element of scholasticism: commentary. The section on comparative perspective is particularly good, comparing Shi'ite, Christian, and Tibetan models and citing theorists including Foucault and Halbertal to elucidate how commentary is used to create sectarian positions out of shared canonical texts. While the sixth chapter begins by comparing curricula and practices followed by both Ge-luk and non-Ge-luk monasteries, it concludes with a detailed section on the role of scholasticism in the production of authority and orthodox, accounting for the emergence of sectarian divisions within Tibetan Buddhism within a sociopolitical context. This return to the history provided in chapter 1 explains the history of sectarian divisions in Tibet and demonstrates both the centrality and scope of the impact of scholasticism in Tibetan religion. In chapter 7, "Scholasticism and Orality," Dreyfus gives the sort of detailed and nuanced testimony that only a long and careful observer of and participant in Buddhism could. He carefully dissects the role of orality in memorization and recitation on the one hand, and of oral commentary in pedagogy on the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Integrating Christ and the Saints into Buddhist Ritual:The Christian Homa of Yogi ChenRichard K. PayneConcern with dual belonging reflects the increasing religious pluralism of European and American societies. This pluralism has included both an increasing variety of religious traditions from outside the monotheistic mainstream of Abrahamic religions as well as new movements and sects within that mainstream. Awareness that religious pluralism is a reality and that many people (...) have come to see this pluralism as offering viable religious alternatives has fostered much reflection, both scholarly and popular. This increasing variety of religions present in Europe and America results from broader social trends. Discussion of these broader social trends, however, lies outside the scope of this essay, which is an examination of the utility of the concept of dual belonging for the sociology of religion.1Dual belonging (also known as double belonging, multiple religious belonging, and so on) becomes a specifically religious issue against the background of theological responses to the reality of religious pluralism. These theological responses include, first, the comparative theology of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, then theology of religions as developed in the middle to late twentieth century, and then the “new” comparative theology2 that has developed from the end of the twentieth into the present century.3 Another dimension that has influenced the discussion of dual belonging has been the efforts of Buddhist-Christian dialogue.4 The concern on the part of religious authorities, theologians, and, one should add, parents has been not just that “they” are now “here,” but that awareness of other religions also creates the opportunity for them to be actively embraced as viable alternatives to more familiar, mainstream religious traditions.5 While conversion has been one of the motivating concerns, another can perhaps be described as the fear of impurity. As Meredith B. McGuire has noted, in contrast to “the Western image of a religion as a unitary, organizationally defined, and relatively stable set of collective beliefs and practices” stands the reality that “extensive religious blending and within-group religious heterogeneity are the norm, rather than the exception.”6 This reality conflicts [End Page 37] with legitimating rhetorics of purity and authenticity, and constitutes a challenge to the authority of those who claim the right to define and defend what they hold as the pure and authentic.yogi chen and religiously hybrid practiceThe discourse regarding dual belonging has largely focused on Christians residing in the cultural West, where they are members of the dominant society and dominant religious culture, but who also identify with Buddhism.7 This reflects the predominant role played by theological concerns in the creation and application of the category of dual belonging. Thus it seems appropriate that Wendy Cadge has asked whether the concept and its cognates can be employed as a “descriptive term for understanding issues of religious globalization and their expression at the level of individual religious commitment.” In order to answer this question, the concept of dual belonging needs to be evaluated, testing whether it is applicable to those who are not members of the demographic that has largely been the subject of study so far. Here we reverse the lens to look at someone who is both not originally a Christian, but who integrates Christian symbolism into his practice, and not part of the dominant culture, an immigrant, a minority both socially and religiously. This instance allows us to examine the category for wider application than to those to whom it has been applied to date.8 Our test case will be a Chinese Buddhist teacher known as Yogi Chen.Yogi Chen (1906–1987) was a Chinese practitioner of esoteric Buddhism who immigrated to the United States in 1972 and practiced in the San Francisco Bay Area for the last decade and a half of his life. Like many modern Chinese teachers, he claimed to bring together all of the teachings and practices of the Theravada, Mahayana, and Vajrayana strains of Buddhism. In addition to practicing in retreat in Hunan, he also studied and practiced with the expatriate Tibetan community in India. During the final period of his life, as an immigrant in the United States, he... (shrink)

Works of a scholar of the Sakyapa sect of Tibetan Lamaism from Kham.

Fifty-five documents in a western-Himalayan language dealing with land, pilgrimage, legality and temple-economy are presented. They explicate how ‘lesser states’ patronized numerous shrines and the role of Nath-Siddha-ascetics in creating consent-to-rule, and constructing hybridity between the Hindu and Tibetan-Buddhist traditions.

Originally published in 1973. The volume is divided into four sections: The introduction places the position of the Buddhist Tantras within Mahayana Buddhism and recalls their early literary history, especially the Guhyasamahatantra; the section also covers Buddhist Genesis and the Tantric tradition. The foundations of the Buddhist Tantras are discussed and the Tantric presentation of divinity; the preparation of disciples and the meaning of initiation; symbolism of the mandala-palace Tantric ritual and the twilight language. This section explores the Tantric (...) teachings of the inner Zodiac and the fivefold ritual symbolism of passion. The bibliographical research contains an analysis of the Tantric section of the Kanjur exegesis and a selected Western Bibliography of the Buddhist Tantras with comments. (shrink)

The bulk of the present volume focuses on the reuse of Buddhist texts. The Introduction gives some background to the topic of textual reuse in general and discusses the reasons for undertaking the analysis of textual reuse within Buddhist texts. It then elaborates on the extent of its pervasiveness within Buddhist literature through the example of Tibetan ritual texts. Lastly, it takes stock of the articles on text-reuse and discusses some general lines of interpretation of the phenomenon of (...) textual reuse in Buddhism, highlighting the importance of the genre over that of the time and language of composition. Thus, philosophical or technical texts tend to quote explicitly, whereas ritual texts see the predominance of the conveyed message over the transparency of the transmission so that reuse is mostly silent. Religious texts of various forms come in between these two extremes. (shrink)

This essay examines historical and contemporary connections between Buddhist and medical traditions through a study of the Accomplishing Medicine ( sman sgrub ) practice and the Yuthok Heart Essence ( G.yu thog snying thig ) anthology. Accomplishing Medicine is an esoteric Buddhist yogic and contemplative exercise focused on several levels of “alchemical” transformation. The article will trace the acquisition of this practice from India by Tibetan medical figures and its assimilation into medical practice. It will propose that this alchemical (...) practice forms the central nexus of connection between Tibetan medicine and the Buddhist Nyingma tradition, and that this little-studied link is not a marginal feature of Tibetan medicine but rather one that has had a significant shaping factor on each tradition throughout history. (shrink)

An esteemed modern Tibetan Buddhist teacher presents a system of meditation instructions designed for achieving relaxation in our stressful, fast-paced world In the late 1990s, shortly after arriving in the United States, it became clear to Dza Kilung Rinpoche that his Western students responded to traditional meditation instructions differently from his students back in Asia. The Westerners didn't know how to relax—and their pressured, fast-paced lifestyles carried over into meditation. With this in mind, Dza Kilung Rinpoche set out to (...) create a meditation system that could break through the noise of Western life. The Relaxed Mind contains instructions for the seven-phase practice that he developed for students in the West. It is adapted from traditional instructions to counteract the overwhelming distraction that is becoming a global culture these days, not only in the West. Beginners will find a wealth of useful, easy-to-understand information while more experienced meditators may be surprised to find their practice deepening through letting go of tension. (shrink)

As the average life expectancy is lengthened, life from middle years and then old age to death is being prolonged. And the period of pain of being old, sick and dying becomes longer. That is why awareness on death and afterlife needs to be changed and prepared. Under the premise that death is not the end and afterlife exists after death, this paper studied especially in view of Buddhism. Also, how to relieve pain and fear of afterlife and judgment process (...) for a dead person after death through death and Buddhism ritual and reach great freedom was presented through 『The Tibetan Book of the Dead』 written by a Tibetan monk Padma Sambhava 1200 years ago. It is hoped that this can be helpful in guiding the way to afterlife though insignificant while being a means to alleviate pain and fear at the last moment of dying and in the process through which a dead person go to find a new existence form after death. (shrink)

Collected works of Dngul-chu Dbyangs-can-grub-paʼi-rdo-rje, 1809-1887 on Tibetan Buddhist doctrines, philosophy, and rituals of Dge-lugs-pa.

This book could be seen as a novel method of tracing the history of a scripture. Jacob P. Dalton does this by “tracing the vicissitudes of a single ritual system—that of the Gathering of Intentions Sutra (Dgongs pa ’dus pa’i mdo)—from its ninth-century origins to the present day” (xv). This tantra is referred to as the “root tantra” and is vital for understanding the history of Tibetan Buddhism, particularly the Nyingma school. This book is divided into seven chapters (...) focusing on the various forms of the traditions surrounding this text. (shrink)

A prominent Zen teacher offers a “direct, penetrating, and powerful” perspective on a popular mind training practice of Tibetan Buddhism (Rick Hanson, author of Buddha’s Brain) Lojong is the Tibetan Buddhist practice of working with short phrases (called "slogans") to generate bodhichitta, the heart and mind of enlightened compassion. With roots tracing back to the 900 A.D., the practice has gained more Western adherents over the past two decades, partly due to the influence of American Buddhist teachers like (...) Pema Chödrön. Its effectiveness and accessibility have moved the practice out of its Buddhist context and into the lives of non-Buddhists across the world. It's in this spirit that Norman Fischer offers his unique, Zen-based commentary on the Lojong. Though traditionally a practice of Tibetan Buddhism, the power of the Lojong extends to other Buddhist traditions—and even to other spiritual traditions as well. As Fischer explores the 59 slogans through a Zen lens, he shows how people from a range of faiths and backgrounds can use Lojong to generate the insight, resilience, and compassion they seek. (shrink)

A new, four-stage approach to the popular Buddhist practice known as loving-kindness meditation, with the aim of finding unconditional love in our own hearts, in our relationships, and in our perception of the world around us. The unconditional love that we all long for--in our own lives and in the world around us--can be awakened effectively with this unique approach to the Tibetan Buddhist practice of loving-kindness meditation. Tulku Thondup gives detailed guidance for meditation, prayers, and visualization in four (...) simple stages that can be practiced in as little as thirty minutes a session. The four-stage format is a brand-new approach being presented for the first time in English, distilled from the author's lifelong study and practice of authentic, traditional teachings. What if we could experience not only our own body, mind, and heart as a boundless source of loving-kindness, but every particle of the world around us as a beautiful realm filled with the blessing energies of the Buddhas and their celestial abodes? The whole environment would become a miraculous display of unconditional love, wisdom, and power, accompanied by the sweet music of holy prayers and inspirational teachings. This is not just a dream or a fantasy but an effective meditation practice that can bring relief from stress, healing to mind and body, healthier relationships, and a positive new outlook on the world around you. Loving-kindness meditations are a highly effective way to generate positive causation, bring true peace and love into our lives, and release ourselves from habitual suffering. When we train ourselves to desire the happiness and well-being of others, with the unconditional love of a mother who cares wholeheartedly for her little ones, we find our whole world pervaded by the positive qualities of joy, peace, and beauty. The training can be compared to sunbathing. As our body absorbs the sun's heat, it becomes warm and gradually emanates that warmth into our surroundings. In the same way, through devotion and trust in the Buddha of Loving-Kindness, we immerse our mind in his unconditional love, which we then radiate to those around us. The Heart of Unconditional Love presents this meditation in a new, four-stage format distilled from the author's lifelong study and practice of authentic, traditional teachings. The meditation can be practiced in as little as thirty minutes a session: In the Outer Buddha Stage, we open our heart with trust and devotion to the Buddha of Loving-Kindness and enjoy his unconditional love. In the Inner Buddha Stage, we experience the Buddha's unconditional love within and for ourselves. In the Universal Buddha Stage, we learn to see, hear, and feel the world around us as a blessed realm of unconditional love. In the Ultimate Buddha Stage, we rest in the awareness of unconditional love free from conceptual thinking. Designed to be accessible to newcomers as well as experienced meditators, this presentation is a brand-new approach to loving-kindness meditation, being published in English for the first time. (shrink)

_A Communion of Subjects_ is the first comparative and interdisciplinary study of the conceptualization of animals in world religions. Scholars from a wide range of disciplines, including Thomas Berry (cultural history), Wendy Doniger (study of myth), Elizabeth Lawrence (veterinary medicine, ritual studies), Marc Bekoff (cognitive ethology), Marc Hauser (behavioral science), Steven Wise (animals and law), Peter Singer (animals and ethics), and Jane Goodall (primatology) consider how major religious traditions have incorporated animals into their belief systems, myths, rituals, and art. (...) Their findings offer profound insights into humans' relationships with animals and a deeper understanding of the social and ecological web in which we all live. Contributors examine Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Daoism, Confucianism, African religions, traditions from ancient Egypt and early China, and Native American, indigenous Tibetan, and Australian Aboriginal traditions, among others. They explore issues such as animal consciousness, suffering, sacrifice, and stewardship in innovative methodological ways. They also address contemporary challenges relating to law, biotechnology, social justice, and the environment. By grappling with the nature and ideological features of various religious views, the contributors cast religious teachings and practices in a new light. They reveal how we either intentionally or inadvertently marginalize "others," whether they are human or otherwise, reflecting on the ways in which we assign value to living beings. Though it is an ancient concern, the topic of "Religion and Animals" has yet to be systematically studied by modern scholars. This groundbreaking collection takes the first steps toward a meaningful analysis. (shrink)

On Tibetan Buddhist doctrines and philosophy according to Sa-skya-pa tradition.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:I Am Food: The Mass in Planetary PerspectiveMaria Reis HabitoI Am Food: The Mass in Planetary Perspective. By Roger Corless. Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2004. 104 pp.In this timely reprint of I Am Food: The Mass in Planetary Perspective (originally published by Crossroad in 1981), the late Roger Corless demonstrates the potential for spiritual and intellectual creativity contained within a stance of dual religious belonging. Corless passed (...) away in January 2007, but this book remains as a way for us to know him and to appreciate, as he did, the possibilities for spiritual revitalization and transformation that may be generated at the intersection and interpenetration of Christian and Buddhist traditions.Corless was raised as a Protestant but as a teenager became deeply engaged with the study of world religions and claimed Buddhism in particular as his own. Eventually he would become a scholar of Chinese Buddhism and a practitioner within the Gelugpa lineage of Tibetan Buddhism. At the same time, however, that the young Corless was being drawn to Buddhism, his connection to his Christian faith was also deepening; his profound experiences of the loving power of God could not be denied even if Christianity's theism could not be easily reconciled with Buddhism's doctrine of emptiness. Instead of leaving one religion for the other, he deepened his engagement with both. He did not seek to synthesize or reconcile Christianity and Buddhism but rather held these traditions together in a dynamic, creative tension and lived each one fully in its turn. When asked about his religious affiliation, Corless would respond playfully that he was "a Buddhist on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, a Christian on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturday, and a Gaia worshipper on Sundays." In I Am Food, however, Corless shows us that on some Sundays, specifically at the celebration of the Mass, he was both Christian and Buddhist at the same time. The great contribution of this book is in its offering of a fresh and transformative approach to the Mass through the application of the symbolic structures of Tibetan Buddhist mandala visualization as a template for active participation in the communion ritual. [End Page 161]Corless's focus in this book is the ritual of the Mass as celebrated within the Roman Catholic tradition. His conversion from Anglicanism to Catholicism occurred much to his "own surprise," prompted by his discovery in Catholicism of "a curious growing center which had great power and potential." This center "brought together many insights which I had picked up from other religions, and moved them to a new synthesis. This synthesis was concentrated in the oddly named 'Mass' " (p. 13). I Am Food offers a scholarly and personal meditation on the meaning, symbolism, and power contained in this central ritual of Catholicism. This project is signaled in the grammatically awkward but intriguing title of the book's first chapter, "Why Is the Mass?" Corless knows that many routine churchgoers never think or dare to ask this question, and the few who do ask it rarely find satisfactory answers. His book seeks to encourage such questioning among those who are in search of a personal religious experience "away from the dullness of minimalist routine" (p. 34). His very lively, humorous, and slightly irreverent style is intended to take the boredom out of the Mass, providing a very personal and original guide to it, different from the series of "excellent, but ultimately claustrophobic, devotional books on 'the spiritual meaning of the Mass'" (p. 13).Among Christian writings that were influential for his understanding of the Mass, Corless names The Mass in Slow Motion (1948) by Ronald Knox, which attempts to describe the inner meaning of the Mass, and Pierre Teilhard de Chardin's Hymn of the Universe (1965), which describes a vision of the world as sacrament and celebrates Mass as a cosmic event. While Teilhard de Chardin inspires Corless's "planetary perspective" on the Mass, Nicholas Casabilas's A Commentary on the Divine Liturgy (1978) sharpens the focus on "the mystical significance of each and every act of the priest and people" (p. 13).Corless argues that what makes the Mass seem stifling is the notion of... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Bodhicitta and Charity:A ComparisonLuke PereraThe object of this paper is to present a comparison of bodhicitta and charity. These concepts are central to their respective traditions (Mahāyāna Buddhism, Christianity), and for the sake of keeping the comparison within reasonable limits I will focus on two sets of texts: the writings of the Indian Buddhist monk Śāntideva (late seventh and eighth centuries ce) and those of the French Catholic nun (...) Thérèse of Lisieux (1873–1897). My intention is that this comparison will help to clarify the similarities and the differences between the two concepts and provide thoughtful comment for Christians and Buddhists involved in interfaith dialogue and interested in comparative or interreligious theology.preliminary definitionsBodhicittaBodhicitta is a Sanskrit term, a compound of bodhi and citta, which appears regularly in the sūtras and śāstras composed by Mahāyāna Buddhist monks in India. Citta can mean mind, intelligence, thought, intention, or will, and bodhi (lit. awakening) refers to the state of all-embracing knowledge and freedom from cognitive and emotional limitations possessed by the buddhas. Bodhicitta, then, is the mind or thought that takes the supreme bodhi of the buddhas as its aim. Synonyms include cittotpāda (arising of the thought) and bodhicittotpāda (arising of the thought of bodhi). These three terms have always been associated with the resolve to become a buddha or a bodhisattva.1The resolve to become a buddha appears first in retellings of the story of the buddha Śākyamuni. Many lifetimes ago, the buddha-to-be was a pious young ascetic who had the fortune to encounter a buddha, and in his presence he vowed to become a buddha in the future.2 Thenceforth he was a bodhisattva, a being (sattva) devoted to the goal of complete enlightenment, the bodhi of the buddhas.3 In the Mahāyāna sūtras, the Buddha is shown teaching that the bodhisattva path is the supreme spiritual path. For a monk or layperson to begin the spiritual career of bodhisattva, they must generate the thought (cittotpāda), which takes bodhi as its aim (bodhicittotpāda): They must generate bodhicitta.The Abhisamayālaṃkāra, an Indian scholastic text attributed to the bodhisattva Maitreya, provides a classic definition: “to generate the resolve [to become a buddha] [End Page 121] is to desire perfect complete awakening for the sake of other [sentient beings].”4 Bodhicitta has two aspects: It is a resolve to attain the state of the buddhas and to work for the welfare of sentient beings. These two aspects combine in one career because the best way to help beings is to become an awakened buddha, capable of teaching them the way to deliverance. As another important text, the Bodhisattvabhūmi, relates:Furthermore, the bodhisattva, when fixing his thought on awakening, collects [his] thoughts and articulates [his] words thus: “Oh, may I be perfectly awakened unto the highest, perfect awakening, may I be the benefactor of all sentient beings and may I establish [them] in the absolutely perfect (or firm) extinction [i.e. Nirvāṇa] and in the insight of the Tathagata!” In this way, one generates the resolve [to become a buddha] when striving for one’s awakening and for the welfare of sentient beings.5The generation of bodhicitta requires preparatory actions such as confession of sins, solicitation of buddhas and bodhisattvas, and prolonged meditation on the benefits of bodhicitta and the sufferings of sentient beings. When the candidate is ready, he will vocalize his intention in the form of a vow in a ritual context, modeled on the monastic prātimokṣa vow.6 He will henceforth be bound by special bodhisattva precepts, which forbid harming sentient beings and creating difficulties for fellow Buddhist practitioners. Tibetan Buddhists identify two ritual traditions for the taking of the bodhicitta vow, each with their respective preparatory meditations, which they trace back to India. They associate Śāntideva with a lineage derived from the mythic bodhisattva Mañjuśrī, which includes the great monastic teacher and philosopher Nāgārjuna and his disciple Āryadeva (second and third centuries ce).The causes required for generating bodhicitta and its exact subdivisions have been... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Jesus the World-Protector:Eighteenth-Century Gelukpa Historians View Christianity1Michael J. SweetThe assumption that religion was so seamlessly woven into non-Western and preindustrial cultures that it was not even distinguished as a separate entity, let alone regarded as an object for study, has been a commonplace among Western scholars of religion for some decades.2 From this point of view, which can be broadly characterized as postmodernist and postcolonialist, the concept of religion (...) "is not a native category... it is a category imposed from outside... it is the other... colonialists who are solely responsible for the content of the term."3 This is a somewhat reductionistic and Eurocentric perspective that ignores the universal human capacity to empathically understand other belief systems.One counterexample to this school of thought is found in the works of three eighteenth-century religious historians, all of whom were learned monks in the Gelukpa tradition of Tibetan Buddhism: Gombojab (Mgon po Skyabs, late seventeenth century–after 1766),4 Sumba Khembo (Sum pa Mkhan po Yes shes dpal 'byor, 1704–1776), and Tuken (Thu'u Bkwan Blo bzang Chos kyi Nyi ma, 1737– 1802), authors of The History of Buddhism in China, The Auspicious Wish-Fulfilling Tree,5 and The Crystal Mirror,6 respectively. These scholars had clear conceptions of their own and other religious systems (Tib.: chos lugs), and compared to earlier Tibetan accounts they present relatively tolerant evaluations of other religious philosophies—for example, Chinese Buddhism, Daoism, and the Literati Tradition (Ru jiao, "Confucianism")—while asserting the superiority of the Gelukpa form of Tibetan Buddhism.7As a case in point, we will see how they describe and evaluate Christianity, a religion that was quite foreign to them and that they appear to have understood only imperfectly. Earlier Tibetan Buddhist religious histories, of which the best-known are the Blue Annals of 'Gos Lotsawa and Bu ston's "History of the Dharma," are immensely valuable sources, but they are more parochial in their range of interest than those of the eighteenth-century Tibeto-Mongol scholars.8 For the earlier historians Indo-Tibetan Buddhism was the only religious system worth serious consideration, and Chinese Buddhism, Indian non-Buddhist religious philosophies, Bon, [End Page 173] and Islam were dealt with in a polemical or (especially in the case of Islam) a frankly hostile fashion. Something changed in the eighteenth century that produced works closer to modern comparative religion than to medieval heresiography.A major motive for this shift was surely the triumph of the Manchu Qing dynasty, which by the mid-eighteenth century had incorporated Tibet and Mongolia definitively into its sphere. Thus, the horizon of the Tibeto-Mongol intelligentsia widened to include the vast Manchu empire, whose leadership in its turn was becoming increasingly aware of other Asian societies and of the European colonial powers. I believe it is significant that Sumba Khembo, Tuken, and Gombojab were all of Mongol ethnicity, the first two from Amdo and the last from Mongolia; they were able to combine an encyclopedic mastery of Tibetan Buddhist texts and ritual with the greater objectivity available to people stemming from the geographical and cultural periphery of that tradition. All three of them were exposed to the cosmopolitan world of imperial Beijing, where they had ample opportunity to meet followers of non-Buddhist religions of a wide range of ethnicities.9By the mid-eighteenth century there were four Catholic churches in Beijing, serving thousands of Chinese Christian converts. Dozens of European priests were employed by the imperial court as well.10 The prevailing syncretic view of the three major Chinese religious philosophies (sanjiao)—Buddhism, Daoism, and the Literati Tradition—as being mutually complementary,11 prevailed in the capital. This is the view that is approvingly cited by Tuken: "there are three great traditions (lugs srol) which clarify the ultimate nature of things, the Literati Tradition, Daoism, and Buddhism."12In turning to these scholars' treatment of Christianity, we find the earliest notice of this religion in Gombojab's History of Buddhism in China,13 written around the mid-1730s.14 Gombojab renders the name of Jesus in its traditional Chinese form of Yesu; he is called the World... (shrink)

Collected works of Sman-ri-ba Mnyam-med Shes-rabs-rgyal-mtshan, Bonpo scholar on Bon doctrines, reverential prayers, sadhanas and tantric texts.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 20 (2000) 84-89 [Access article in PDF] Christian Views on Ritual Practice Concerning Ritual Practice and Ethics in Buddhism Donald W. MitchellPurdue UniversityThe three papers presented by this panel have given me a much greater knowledge about, and appreciation for, the relationship between ritual practice and ethical action in Tibetan, Zen, and Nichiren Buddhism. I would like to respond to each of the (...) papers one at a time from a Christian point of view by making certain comparisons with the connection between Christian ethics and ritual practice. Let me begin by raising a comparative five points concerning Stephanie Kaza's wonderful description [End Page 84] and insightful analysis of the function of ritual in nurturing authentic personhood in Zen.First, it seems that the practice of ritual in Zen demands a degree of self-sacrifice which in turn aids in the cultivation of the virtue of selflessness. For example, Kaza says that through the participation in ritual practice, "the student is freed from his or her own individual designs and preferences... not asking any questions but just trying to do it better and more fully each time." Or elsewhere Kaza concludes, "Zen ritual is a training ground for intensive practice in giving up the small ego-bound self." In a similar way for the Christian, the self-sacrifice demanded in ritual performance can be seen as nurturing selflessness in the context of community--as aiding one in giving up one's ego in order to participate more fully in the communal life of agape. But more than this, the value of selfless participation in the Christian community that is reinforced by the ritual is connected to a call for future action: It calls one to contribute selflessly together with others to building the reign of God. In Christianity, the performing of ritual with others sensitizes one to the fact that he or she is part of the church working for a collective love and unity that manifests in human community the very holiness of the unity and love of the Trinity. One is thus called within the sacred ritual environment to bring this love and unity into one's everyday environment through ethical behavior.Second, besides selflessness, another positive quality that is cultivated through ritual practice is mindful awareness. As Kaza states in regard to the meal ritual, this practice "cultivates mindful awareness... if one merges wholeheartedly with the process, the meal itself becomes a lesson in co-dependent arising." In other words, the ritual performance brings to mind an awareness of fundamental reality according to Buddhism, namely, dependent arising. Being aware of mutual interdependence brings a deeper sense of compassion for all beings, and a more focused inspiration to act morally on their behalf. So, too, in Christianity, ritual is seen to be a "social drama" that brings to awareness the reality of the mystical body of Christ, the church, being the social form of Jesus Christ in the world. Ritual, as a sacred and dramatic social manifestation of the church, brings this communal reality of Christ to the Christian's mindful awareness by breaking into the secular structures of ordinary consciousness. Furthermore, the ritual also guides, forms, inspires, strengthens, and encourages the participants to re-enter that ordinary life committed to living the values and ideals expressed in the ritual. The formative power of the ritual performance lies, in part, in the fact that ritual ties ideas, values, and ideals to sensual and emotional stimuli in a way that, in the words of Victor Turner, "connects the obligatory into the desirable" (The Forest of Symbols, 1967).Third, Kaza shows how ritual in Zen helps to convey the tradition and promote solidarity within the community. She says that ritual in Zen: "promotes healthy sangha through sharing the stability and continuity of traditional practice forms... which generate a culture of the larger body--familiar and supportive." In Christianity, too, the multidimensional expressions of the ritual performance--the physical movements, sounds, music, smells, verbal articulations, etc.--all blend together in ways that pass on certain ideas, ideals, and values... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 23 (2003) 61-66 [Access article in PDF] Retracing Buddhist Encounters Ursula King University of Bristol My aim is a modest one—to retrace earlier experiences of encounters with Buddhism and share my thoughts with others. I am not writing as a "dual practitioner," nor do I philosophize about "double belonging," its possibility or impossibility. Neither do I intend to write in an academic, objectifying mode of thought. It (...) is not even about my ongoing personal journey, as journeys seem to imply participation in a continuing process. What I am going to describe are more unconnected encounters, years apart, rather than an ongoing journey, perhaps more like Grace Burford's "postcards" than any of the other accounts submitted.I first caught a glimpse, no more, of Buddhist thought in my early teens, in one of my school history books, and was both puzzled and intrigued to see Buddhism described as "more of a philosophy than a religion." What could that possibly mean, and how could I find out more about this so very different religious thought from the East of which our teacher spoke so highly? Later I learned more, but not much, in comparative religion classes and philosophy of religion courses during my university studies in the fifties and sixties, and from reading Henri de Lubac's book on the Amida Buddha and his study on the encounter between Buddhism and the West, a pioneering but little known work written in 1952, just before the expansion of Buddhism into the West really took off. I also saw Buddhist monks and rituals in some of the documentary films (with Arnold Toynbee as a narrator) I used in a world religions class taught almost forty years ago. But none of this really prepared me for meeting Buddhist people and Buddhist culture in Asian lands, all unpredictably more diverse and appealing than any description found in Western books.When I lived with my family in New Delhi from 1965 to 1970, I met a Buddhist monk from Cambodia who had founded a vihara outside New Delhi open to people of all faiths, and it is there that I first encountered and took part in Buddhist meditation, worship, and festivals, but what attracted me most and left an indelible impression were the profoundly moving spirit of wisdom and compassion and acts of loving kindness that I experienced again and again and that moved me deeply to the core. Such experiences are so alive and vivid, so rich in texture and memory traces that they can feed thoughts and attitudes for the rest of one's life, but they are never fully captured in clever intellectual and philosophical abstractions, however [End Page 61] powerful the argument in which they are clothed. It is for this reason that I always value and cherish the richness of lived experience and participation, even in its often contradictory and profoundly ambivalent nature, more than any finely honed intellectual points concerning profoundly metaphysical insights about ultimate reality or absolute truth claims. In this sense I am perhaps more a practitioner realizing the relational, contingent nature of any and all positions rather than an absolutist thinker wanting to defend one system of thought over another.Soon my personal contacts with Buddhists in India grew through meeting different Tibetan monks, and some Tibetan nuns too, and through visits to the newly founded Tibet House in New Delhi. But most of all I was deeply touched by an early visit to the Dalai Lama in Dharamsala, probably in March 1966, in the company of an American Sacred Heart nun, Mother Adele Fiske from Manhattan College, who was fitting in this visit while officially undertaking research on the Ambedkhar Buddhists, the leatherworker converts from an outcaste background, some of whom I also met on different occasions. The personal visit to the Dalai Lama in an intimate setting was a high point of my life, as (with the help of an interpreter) we spent about an hour and a half discussing the Christian understanding of the Holy Spirit in comparison to the Buddhist idea of prajnaparamita, of ultimate wisdom. I wished I... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Ippolito Desideri S.J.: Opere e BibliografiaFrancis V. TisoIppolito Desideri S.J.: Opere e Bibliografia. By Enzo Gualterio Bargiacchi. Roma: Institutum Historicum S.I., 2007. 303 pp.One of the great lacunae in the history of Buddhist-Christian relations has been a lack of attention to the work of missionaries who reported on Buddhist belief and practice in various parts of East and South Asia. As a result, the important work [End Page (...) 166] of the Italian Jesuit Ippolito Desideri (1684–1733) has not received the attention it deserves. There had been centuries of missionary contact with the Buddhists of Sri Lanka, Japan, and China, but it was not until the mission of Desideri to Tibet (1716–1721) that the connection between the Buddhism of Southeast Asia and that of China and Japan could be established on the basis of Desideri’s study of Tibetan historiographical materials.Desideri was the first European to become fluent in Tibetan, the first to understand Buddhist Mahayana scholasticism, the first to grasp the meaning of Vajrayana ritual and practice, the first to describe the political situation of Tibet, the first to engage in serious debate with Tibetan lamas, and the first to write extensively on Catholic Christianity in Tibetan. Desideri left a body of works in Tibetan that have been translated into Italian by Giuseppe Toscano, SX, and published by IsMEO during the 1980s. Yet Desideri’s greatest achievement, the translation into Latin of Je Tsong Kapa’s Lam Rim Chen Mo, seems to have been lost. Moreover, the great intellectual and spiritual accomplishments of this Jesuit missionary were not much appreciated in his own lifetime, in part because of the political situation of the Society of Jesus at that time. As a result, although the overall facts of Desideri’s life were never completely forgotten, his writings lay hidden in the Jesuit Archives at Rome at precisely the time when those engaging in contact with Asian religions would have benefited from his insights.The author of this summary of the works of Ippolito Desideri and of the entire corpus of materials related to his oeuvre, Enzo Gualtiero Bargiacchi, is convinced that even today the works of this eighteenth-century Jesuit missionary have something to offer. I would agree with Bargiacchi, because I am equally convinced that the Desiderian project is in many ways a better model for interreligious dialogue between Christians and Buddhists than any of the more recent models that have been proposed and implemented since the Second Vatican Council. Recent essays by Trent Pomplun and Michael Sweet in Buddhist-Christian Studies (vol. 26, 2006) have shown that exchanges between missionaries and Buddhists in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries were more profound and more fruitful than we are inclined to believe on the basis of superficial histories of the period. It seems that, with the suppression of the Jesuits (1773–1815), a certain retrenchment in the Catholic theology of grace operating outside the confines of the Church set in, muting the vibrant speculations of theologians seeking to make theological sense of the reports of missionaries such as Desideri.Desideri’s approach to the Buddhism of Tibet continues to challenge our own approach to interreligious dialogue. In the first place, Desideri underwent extensive linguistic, spiritual, and theological training as a young Italian Jesuit. He seems to have had unusual physical stamina and mental acuity, particularly for the study of languages. He learned Tibetan in about four months and immediately began writing a treatise, the Tho rangs, explaining Christianity to the Tibetan literati. As his Tibetan improved, he composed other, more sophisticated works in which he took up the topics on which Buddhists and Catholic Christians could agree (the contingency of the created world, the moral law) and on which they disagree (the law of karmic retribution, [End Page 167] emptiness, reincarnation, soteriology). Desideri sought to take seriously the philosophical positions of the lamas, with whom he lived and engaged in debate. He adapted his presentation of Christianity to the linguistic requirements of Tibet, and he did not hesitate to acknowledge the excellence he found in the moral character and intellectual refinement of the Tibetans. Finally, one detects a respect... (shrink)

This article analyzes the treatment of music in Buddhist monastic life through the rules on music in Buddhist canon law within the six extant traditions, which are preserved in Chinese, Tibetan, Pāli, and fragmentary Sanskrit manuscripts. These texts distinguish and differentiate instrumental and vocal music, presenting song, dance, and instrumental music as a triad and further subdividing vocal music into reciting, chanting, and singing. The performance and consumption of singing is strictly prohibited. Regulations on chanting and recitation are mutually (...) exclusive and context dependent. Chanting is required on two occasions: when one praises the Buddha’s virtues and when one performs the Tridaṇḍaka ritual. Chanting is prohibited on three other occasions: when one recites the Prātimokṣasūtra and other ordinary Buddhist texts, and when one preaches Dharma. These regulations demonstrate that text and context are decisive in determining what forms of vocal music are appropriate in Buddhist practice. The use of embellished chanting is reserved for performing rituals whose primary goal is to please divine recipients but must be prohibited when clear articulation is expected for educating the audience. Given that making or consuming vocal music is not a criminal offense, yet is strictly regulated, I argue that the establishment of Buddhist canon law was compelled by a pressing demand to demarcate and maintain a social boundary between the Buddhist monastic order and the lay community of adherents. (shrink)

continent. 2.2 (2012): 66–75 ~*~ We’re Doomed. Pessimism is the night-side of thought, a melodrama of the futility of the brain, a poetry written in the graveyard of philosophy. Pessimism is a lyrical failure of philosophical thinking, each attempt at clear and coherent thought, sullen and submerged in the hidden joy of its own futility. The closest pessimism comes to philosophical argument is the droll and laconic “We’ll never make it,” or simply: “We’re doomed.” Every effort doomed to failure, every (...) project doomed to incompletion, every life doomed to be unlived, every thought doomed to be unthought. Pessimism is the lowest form of philosophy, frequently disparaged and dismissed, merely the symptom of a bad attitude. No one ever needs pessimism, in the way that one needs optimism to inspire one to great heights and to pick oneself up, in the way one needs constructive criticism, advice and feedback, inspirational books or a pat on the back. No one needs pessimism, though I like to imagine the idea of a pessimist activism. No one needs pessimism, and yet everyone—without exception—has, at some point in their lives, had to confront pessimism, if not as a philosophy then as a grievance—against one’s self or others, against one’s surroundings or one’s life, against the state of things or the world in general. There is little redemption for pessimism, and no consolation prize. Ultimately, pessimism is weary of everything and of itself. Pessimism is the philosophical form of disenchantment—disenchantment as chanting, a chant, a mantra, a solitary, monophonic voice rendered insignificant by the intimate immensity surrounding it. In pessimism, the first axiom is a long, low, funereal sigh. ~*~ We’re Still Doomed. No one has time for pessimism. After all, there are only so many hours in a day. Whatever our temperament, happy or sad, engaged or disengaged, we know pessimism when we hear it. The pessimist is usually understood as the complainer, forever pointing out what is wrong with the world without ever once offering a solution. But more often than not pessimists are the quietest of philosophers, submerging their own sighs within the lethargy of discontent. What little sound it makes is of interest to no one—“I’ve heard it all before,” “tell me something I don’t know,” sound and fury, signifying nothing. In raising problems without solutions, in posing questions without answers, in retreating to the hermetic, cavernous abode of complaint, pessimism is guilty of that most inexcusable of Occidental crimes—the crime of not pretending it’s for real. Pessimism fails to live up to the most basic tenet of philosophy—the “as if.” Think as if it will be helpful, act as if it will make a difference, speak as if there is something to say, live as if you are not, in fact, being lived by some murmuring non-entity both shadowy and muddied. Had it more self-assurance and better social skills, pessimism would turn its disenchantment into a religion, possibly calling itself The Great Refusal. But there is a negation in pessimism that refuses even such a Refusal, an awareness that, from the start, it has already failed, and that the culmination of all that is, is that all is for naught. Pessimism tries very hard to present itself in the low, sustained tones of a Requiem Mass, or the tectonic rumbling of Tibetan chant. But it frequently lets loose dissonant notes at once plaintive and pathetic. Often, its voice cracks, its weighty words abruptly reduced to mere shards of guttural sound. ~*~ Maybe It’s Not So Bad, After All. If we know pessimism when we hear it, this is because we’ve heard it all before—and we didn’t need to hear it in the first place. Life is hard enough. What you need is a change of attitude, a new outlook, a shift in perspective... a cup of coffee. If we have no ears for pessimism, this is because it is always reducible to something as reliably mutable as a voice. If pessimism is so frequently disparaged, it is because it brings everyone down, determined as it is to view each day as a bad day, if only by virtue of the fact that it is not yet a bad day. For pessimism the world is brimming with negative possibility, the collision of a bad mood with an impassive world. In fact, pessimism is the result of a confusion between the world and a statement about the world, a confusion that also prevents it from fully entering the hallowed halls of philosophy. If pessimism is so often dismissed, this is because it is often impossible to separate a “bad mood” from a philosophical proposition (and do not all philosophies stem from a bad mood?) The very term “pessimism” suggests a school of thought, a movement, even a community. But pessimism always has a membership of one—maybe two. Ideally, of course, it would have a membership of none, with only a scribbled, illegible note left behind by someone long forgotten. But this seems unrealistic, though one can always hope. ~*~ Anatomy of Pessimism. Though it may locate itself at the margins of philosophy, pessimism is as much subject to philosophical analysis as any other form of thought. Pessimism’s lyricism of failure gives it the structure of music. What time is to the music of sorrow, reason is to a philosophy of the worst. Pessimism’s two major keys are moral and metaphysical pessimism, its subjective and objective poles, an attitude towards the world and a claim about the world. For moral pessimism, it is better not to have been born at all; for metaphysical pessimism, this is the worst of all possible worlds. For moral pessimism the problem is the solipsism of human beings, the world made in our own image, a world-for-us. For metaphysical pessimism, the problem is the solipsism of the world, objected and projected as a world-in-itself. Both moral and metaphysical pessimism are compromised philosophically; moral pessimism by its failure to locate the human within a larger context, and metaphysical pessimism by its failure to recognize the complicity in the very claim of realism. This is how pessimism makes its music of the worst, a generalized misanthropy without the anthropos . Pessimism crystallizes around this futility—it is its amor fati , rendered as musical form. ~*~ Melancholy of Anatomy. There is a logic of pessimism that is fundamental to its suspicion of philosophical system. Pessimism involves a statement about a condition . In pessimism each statement boils down to an affirmation or a negation, just as any condition boils down to the best or the worst. With Schopenhauer, that arch-pessimist, the thinker for whom the philosopher and the curmudgeon perfectly overlap, we see a no-saying to the worst, a no-saying that secretly covets a yes-saying (through asceticism, mysticism, quietism), even if this hidden yes-saying is a horizon at the limits of comprehension. With Nietzsche comes the pronouncement of a Dionysian pessimism, a pessimism of strength or joy, a yes-saying to the worst, a yes-saying to this world as it is. And with Cioran yet another variation, futile yet lyrical, a no-saying to the worst, and a further no-saying to the possibility of any other world, in here or out there. With Cioran one approaches, but never reaches, an absolute no-saying, a studied abandonment of pessimism itself. The logic of pessimism moves through three refusals: a no-saying to the worst (refusal of the world-for-us, or Schopenhauer’s tears); a yes-saying to the worst (refusal of the world-in-itself, or Nietzsche’s laughter); and a no-saying to the for-us and the in-itself (a double refusal, or Cioran’s sleep). Crying, laughing, sleeping—what other responses are adequate to a life that is so indifferent? ~*~ Cosmic Pessimism. Both moral and metaphysical pessimism point to another kind, a pessimism that is neither subjective nor objective, neither for-us nor in-itself, and instead a pessimism of the world-without-us. We could call this a cosmic pessimism ... but this sounds too majestic, too full of wonder, too much the bitter aftertaste of the Great Beyond. Words falter. And so do ideas. And so we have a cosmic pessimism, a pessimism that is first and last a pessimism about cosmos , about the necessity and possibility of order. The contours of cosmic pessimism are a drastic scaling-up or scaling-down of the human point of view, the unhuman orientation of deep space and deep time, and all of this shadowed by an impasse, a primordial insignificance, the impossibility of ever adequately accounting for one’s relationship to thought—all that remains of pessimism is the desiderata of affects—agonistic, impassive, defiant, reclusive, filled with sorrow and flailing at that architectonic chess match called philosophy, a flailing that pessimism tries to raise to the level of an art form (though what usually results is slapstick). ~*~ Song of Futility. An ethics of futility pervades pessimism. Futility, however, is different from fatality, and different again from simple failure (though failure is never simple). Failure is a breakage within the heart of relations, a fissure between cause and effect, a fissure hastily covered over by trying and trying again. With failure, there is always plenty of blame to go around; it’s not my fault, it’s a technical difficulty, it’s a miscommunication. For the pessimist, failure is a question of “when,” not “if”—failure as a metaphysical principle. Everything withers and passes into an obscurity blacker than night, everything from the melodramatic decline of a person’s life to the banal flickering moments that constitute each day. Everything that is done undone, everything said or known destined for a kind of stellar oblivion. When scaled up in this way, failure becomes fatality. Fatality is the hermeticism of cause and effect. In fatality, everything you do, whatever you do, always leads to a certain end, and ultimately to the end—though that end, or the means to that end, remain shrouded in obscurity. Nothing you do makes a difference because everything you do makes a difference. Hence the effects of your actions are hidden from you, even as you deceive yourself into thinking that, at last, this time you will outwit the order of things. By having a goal, planning ahead, and thinking things through carefully, we attempt, in a daily Prometheanism, to turn fatality to our advantage, to gain a glimpse of an order that seems buried deeper and deeper in the fabric of the universe. But even fatality has its comforts. The chain of cause and effect may be hidden from us, but that’s just because disorder is the order we don’t yet see; it’s just complex, distributed, and requires advanced mathematics. Fatality still clings to the sufficiency of everything that exists... When fatality relinquishes even this idea, it becomes futility. Futility arises out of the grim suspicion that, behind the shroud of causality we drape over the world, there is only the indifference of what exists or doesn’t exist; whatever you do ultimately leads to no end, an irrevocable chasm between thought and world. Futility transforms the act of thinking into a zero-sum game. ~*~ Song of the Worst. At the center of pessimism lies the term pessimus , “the worst,” a term as relative as it is absolute. The worst is about as bad as it gets, “the worst” as “the best” in disguise, shrouded by the passage of time or the twists and turns of fortune. For the pessimist, “the worst” is the propensity for suffering that gradually occludes each living moment, until it eclipses it entirely, overlapping perfectly in death... which, for the pessimist, is no longer “the worst.” Pessimism is marked by an unwillingness to move beyond “the worst,” something only partially attributable to a lack in motivation. In pessimism “the worst” is the ground that gives way beneath every existent—things could be worse, and , things could be better. “The worst” invariably implies a value judgment, one made based on scant evidence and little experience; in this way, pessimism’s greatest nemesis is its moral orientation. Pessimism’s propositions have all the gravitas of a bad joke. Perhaps this is why the true optimists are the most severe pessimists—they are optimists that have run out of options. They are almost ecstatically inundated by the worst. Such an optimism is the only possible outcome of a prolonged period of suffering, physical or metaphysical, intellectual or spiritual. But does this not also describe all the trials and tribulations of each day—in short, of “life?” It seems that sooner or later we are all doomed to become optimists of this sort (the most depressing of thoughts...) ~*~ Song of Doom. Rather than serving as a cause for despair, gloom and doom are the forms of consolation for any pessimist philosophy. Neither quite affects nor quite concepts, gloom and doom transform pessimism into a mortification of philosophy. Doom is not just the sense that all things will turn out badly, but that all things inevitably come to an end, irrespective of whether or not they really do come to an end. What emerges from doom is a sense of the unhuman as an attractor, a horizon towards which the human is fatally drawn. Doom is humanity given over to unhumanity in an act of crystalline self-abnegation. Gloom is not simply the anxiety that precedes doom. Gloom is literally atmospheric, climate as much as impression, and if people are also gloomy, this is simply the by-product of an anodyne atmosphere that only incidentally involves human beings. Gloom is more climatological than psychological, the stuff of dim, hazy, overcast skies, of ruins and overgrown tombs, of a misty, lethargic fog that moves with the same languorousness as our own crouched and sullen listening to a disinterested world. In a sense, gloom is the counterpoint to doom—what futility is to the former, fatality is to the latter. Doom is marked by temporality—all things precariously drawn to their end—whereas gloom is the austerity of stillness, all things sad, static, and suspended, a meandering smoke hovering over cold lichen stones and damp fir trees. If doom is the terror of temporality and death, then gloom is the horror of a hovering stasis that is life. At times I like to imagine that this realization alone is the thread that connects the charnel ground Aghori and the graveyard poets. ~*~ Song of Spite. There is an intolerance in pessimism that knows no bounds. In pessimism spite begins by fixing on a particular object of spite—someone one hardly knows, or someone one knows too well; a spite for this person or a spite for all of humanity; a spectacular or a banal spite; a spite for a noisy neighbor, a yapping dog, a battalion of strollers, the meandering idiot walking in front of you on their smart phone, large loud celebrations, traumatic injustices anywhere in the world regurgitated as media blitz, spite for the self-absorbed and overly performative people talking way too loud at the table next to you, technical difficulties and troubleshooting, the reduction of everything to branding, spite of the refusal to admit one’s own errors, of self-help books, of people who know absolutely everything and make sure to tell you, of all people, all living beings, all things, the world, the spiteful planet, the inanity of existence... Spite is the motor of pessimism because it is so egalitarian, so expansive, it runs amok, stumbling across intuitions that can only half-heartedly be called philosophical. Spite lacks the confidence and the clarity of hatred, but it also lacks the almost cordial judgment of dislike. For the pessimist, the smallest detail can be an indication of a metaphysical futility so vast and funereal that it eclipses pessimism itself—a spite that pessimism carefully places beyond the horizon of intelligibility, like the experience of dusk, or like the phrase, “it is raining jewels and daggers.” ~*~ Song of Sleep. A paraphrase of Schopenhauer: what death is for the organism, sleep is for the individual. Pessimists sleep not because they are depressed, but because for them sleep is a form of ascetic practice. Sleep is the askesis of pessimism. If, while sleeping, we have a bad dream, we abruptly wake up, and suddenly the horrors of the night vanish. There is no reason to think that the same does not happen with the bad dream we call “life.” ~*~ Song of Sorrow. Nietzsche, commenting on pessimism, once castigated Schopenhauer for taking things too lightly. He writes: ...Schopenhauer, though a pessimist, really —played the flute. Every day, after dinner: one should read his biography on that. And incidentally: a pessimist, one who denies God and the world but comes to a stop before morality—who affirms morality and plays the flute... what? Is that really—a pessimist? We know that Schopenhauer did possess a collection of instruments, and we also know that Nietzsche himself composed music. There is no reason to think that either of them would ever banish music from the Republic of philosophy. But Nietzsche’s jibes at Schopenhauer are as much about music as they are about pessimism. For the pessimist who says no to everything and yet finds comfort in music, the no-saying of pessimism can only be a weak way of saying yes—the weightiest statement undercut by the flightiest of replies. The least that Schopenhauer could’ve done is to play the bass. I’m not a big fan of the flute, or, for that matter, wind instruments generally. But what Nietzsche forgets is the role that the flute has historically played in Greek tragedy. In tragedy, the flute ( aulos ) is not an instrument of levity and joy, but of solitude and sorrow. The Greek aulos not only expresses the grief of tragic loss, but it does so in a way that renders weeping and singing inseparable from each other. The classicist Nicole Loraux calls this the mourning voice . Set apart from the more official civic rituals of funerary mourning, the mourning voice of Greek tragedy constantly threatens to dissolve song into wailing, music into moaning, and the voice into a primordial, disarticulate anti-music. The mourning voice delineates all the forms of suffering—tears, weeping, sobbing, wailing, moaning, and the convulsions of thought reduced to an elemental unintelligibility. In the collapsed space between the voice that speaks and the voice that sings, pessimism discovers its mourning voice. Pessimism: the failure of sound and sense, the disarticulation of phone and logos . Have we rescued Schopenhauer from Nietzsche? Probably not. Perhaps Schopenhauer played the flute to remind himself of the real function of the mourning voice—sorrow, sighs, and moaning rendered indistinguishable from music, the crumbling of the human into the unhuman. Failure par excellence of pessimism. ~*~ Song of Nothing. In Buddhist thought, the First Noble Truth of existence is encapsulated in the Pali term dukkha , conventionally translated as “suffering,” “sorrow,” or “misery.” The Buddhist teachings are clear, however, that this is an objective claim, and not simply one point of view among others. Existence is suffering and sorrow—and yet this is not, the teachings tell us, a pessimistic attitude. It is likely that Schopenhauer, reading the Buddhist texts available to him, recognized some filiation with the concept of dukkha . But dukkha is a multi-faceted term. There is, certainly, dukkha in the usual sense of the suffering, strife, and loss associated with living a life. But this is, in turn, dependent on the finitude and temporality of dukkha , existence as determined by impermanence and imperfection. And this ultimately points to the way in which both suffering and finitude are grounded by the paradoxical groundlessness of dukkha as a metaphysical principle—the insubstantiality and the emptiness of all that is. Beyond what is worse to me, beyond a world ordered for the worst, there is the emptiness of dukkha as an impersonal suffering... the tears of the cosmos. In this context, it is easy to see how Schopenhauer’s pessimism attempts to compress all the aspects of dukkha into a nothingness at the core of existence, a Willlessness coursing through the Will. Though one thing for certain is that with Schopenhauer we do not find the “ever-smiling” countenance of Buddhism—or do we? The texts of the Pali Canon also contain lists of the different types of happiness—including the happiness of renunciation and the strange happiness of detachment. But Buddhism considers even the different types of happiness as part of dukkha , in this final sense of nothingness or emptiness. Perhaps Schopenhauer understood Buddhism better than he is usually given credit for. Thus the experiment of Schopenhauer’s philosophy—the point at which a Western pessimus and an Eastern dukkha overlap or exchange glances. Empty sorrow, a lyricism of indifference. The result is a strange, and ultimately untenable, nocturnal form of Buddhism. ~*~ Cioran once called music a “physics of tears.” If this is true, then perhaps metaphysics is its commentary. Or its apology. ~*~ Pessimism would be more mystical were it not for its defeatism. Mysticism is much too proactive for the pessimist, and pessimism too impassive even for the mystic. At the same time, there is something enviable about mysticism—despite its sufferings. There is a sense in which pessimists are really failed mystics. ~*~ You, the Night, and the Music. In a suggestive passage, Schopenhauer once noted that, “music is the melody to which the world is the text." Given Schopenhauer’s view on life—that life is suffering, that human life is absurd, that the nothingness before my birth is equal to the nothingness after my death—given all this, one wonders what kind of music Schopenhauer had in mind when he described music as the melody to which the world is text—was it opera, a Requiem Mass, a madrigal, or perhaps a drinking song? Or something like Eine kleine Nachtmusik , a little night music for the twilight of thought, a sullen nocturne for the night-side of logic, an era of sad wings sung by a solitary banshee. Perhaps the music Schopenhauer had in mind is music eliminated to non-music. A whisper would suffice. Perhaps a sigh of fatigue or resignation, perhaps a moan of despair or sorrow. Perhaps a sound just articulate enough that it could be heard to dissipate. ~*~ Teach me to laugh through tears. ~*~ Pessimism always falls short of being philosophical. My back aches, my knees hurt, I couldn’t sleep last night, I’m stressed-out, and I think I’m finally coming down with something. Pessimism abjures all pretenses towards system—towards the purity of analysis and the dignity of critique. We didn’t really think we could figure it out, did we? It was just passing time, taking a piss, something to do, a bold gesture put forth in all its fragility, according to rules that we have agreed to forget that we made up in the first place. Every thought marked by a shadowy incomprehension that precedes it, and a futility that undermines it. That pessimism speaks, in whatever voice, is the singing testimony to this futility and this incomprehension—take a chance and step outside, lose some sleep and say you tried... ~*~ Is there a music of pessimism? And would such a music be audible? ~*~ The impact of music on a person compels them to put their experience into words. When this fails, the result is a faltering of thought and language that is itself a kind of music. Cioran writes: “Music is everything. God himself is nothing more than an acoustic hallucination.” ~*~ If a thinker like Schopenhauer has any redeeming qualities, it is that he identified the great lie of Western culture—the preference for existence over non-existence. As he notes: “If we knocked on the graves and asked the dead whether they would like to rise again, they would shake their heads.” In Western cultures it is commonly accepted that one celebrates birth and mourns death. But there must be a mistake here. Wouldn’t it make more sense to mourn birth and celebrate death? Strange though, because the mourning of birth would, presumably, last the entirety of that person’s life, so that mourning and living would the be same thing. ~*~ To the musical idea of the harmony of the universe corresponds the philosophical principle of sufficient reason. Like the music of mourning, pessimism gives voice to the inevitable breakdown of word and song. In this way, music is the overtone of thought. ~*~ The Patron Saints of Pessimism. The patron saints of pessimism watch over suffering. Laconic and sullen, the patron saints of pessimism never seem to do a good job at protecting, interceding, or advocating for those who suffer. Perhaps they need us more than we need them. Lest we forget, there do exist patron saints of philosophy, but their stories are not happy ones. There is, for instance, the fourth century Saint Catherine of Alexandria, or Catherine of the Wheel, named after the torture device used on her. A precocious fourteen year old scholar, Catherine was subject to continual persecution. After all forms of torture failed—including the “breaking wheel”—the emperor finally settled for her decapitation, a violent yet appropriate reminder of the protector of philosophers. There are also patron saints of music and musicians, but theirs too are sad stories. In the second century, Saint Cecilia was also subject to persecution and torture. As she knelt to receive the blade that would separate her head from her body, she ardently sang a song to God. It took three attempts before she was fully decapitated, all the while she continued, perhaps miraculously, to sing. Does pessimism not deserve its own patron saints, even if they are unworthy of martyrdom? But in our search, even the most ardent nay-sayers frequently lapse into brief moments of enthusiasm—Pascal’s love of solitude, Leopardi’s love of poetry, Schopenhauer’s love of music, Nietzsche’s love of Schopenhauer, and so on. Should one then focus on individual works of pessimism? We could include Kierkegaard’s trilogy of horror— Sickness Unto Death , The Concept of Dread , and Fear and Trembling —but all these are undermined by their fabricated and unreliable authors. Besides, how can one separate the pessimist from the optimist in works like Unamuno’s The Tragic Sense of Life , Shestov’s Postetas Clavium , or Edgar Saltus’ under-read The Philosophy of Disenchantment ? Even in cases where the entire corpus of an author is pessimistic, the project always seems incomplete—witness Cioran’s trajectory, from his first book, On the Heights of Despair , to the last unpublished notebooks of acrid and taut aphorisms. And this is to say nothing of literary pessimism, from Goethe’s sorrowful Werther, to Dostoevsky’s underground man, to Pessoa’s disquiet scribbler; Baudelaire’s spleen and ennui, the mystical Satanism of Huysmans and Strindberg, the hauntologies of Mário de Sá-Carniero, Izumi Kyoka, H.P. Lovecraft, grumpy old Beckett... even the great pessimist comedians. All that remains are singular, perhaps anomalous statements of pessimism, a litany of quotes and citations crammed into fortune cookies. Patron saints are traditionally named after a locale, either a place of birth or of a mystical experience. Perhaps the better approach is to focus on the places where pessimists were forced to live out their pessimism—Schopenhauer facing an empty Berlin lecture hall, Nietzsche mute and convalescent at the home of his sister, Wittgenstein the relinquished professor and solitary gardener, Cioran grappling with Alzheimer’s in his tiny writing alcove in the Latin Quarter. ~*~ There’s a ghost that grows inside of me, damaged in the making, and there’s a hunt sprung from necessity, elliptical and drowned. Where the moving quiet of our insomnia offers up each thought, there’s a luminous field of grey inertia, and obsidian dreams burnt all the way down. ~*~ If pessimism has any pedagogical value, it is that the failure of pessimism as a philosophy is inextricably tied to the failure of pessimism as voice. I read the following, from Shestov’s The Apotheosis of Groundlessness : When a person is young he writes because it seems to him he has discovered a new almighty truth which he must make haste to impart to forlorn humankind. Later, becoming more modest, he begins to doubt his truths: and then he tries to convince himself. A few more years go by, and he knows he was mistaken all round, so there is no need to convince himself. Nevertheless he continues to write, because he is not fit for any other work, and to be accounted a superfluous person is so horrible. (shrink)

The Mahāvairocana sūtra was translated into Chinese by the Indian monk Śubhakarasiṃha 善無畏 (637–735) and the Chinese monk Yixing 一行 (683–727), and Yixing also composed an elaborate commentary based on the teachings of Śubhakarasiṃha. Their efforts to introduce to China this key source for esoteric Buddhist doctrine and ritual offer us a remarkable case study of Buddhological translation. The two translators respond with particular flair to the perennial challenge of translating any Buddhist scriptures, namely, how to deal with foreign (...) terms or phrases that might appear untranslatable. Looking at both the translation and commentary, we can observe how the two translators employed multiple strategies and frequently relied on commentary to clarify the multiple layers of meaning embedded in the source text. In particular, the polysemous Sanskrit word kalpa highlights the ingenuity of the two translators, as their interpretation of this term differs considerably from that implied in the Tibetan translation. Some of their specific choices in the translation had a substantial impact on the future of esoteric Buddhism in East Asia. (shrink)

Mongolian historians divide the spread out Buddhism in Mongolia three periods: The first period of Hun empire, the second period of the Mongol empire and third period from XVI century onwards. From the XVI century Mongols translated the numerous Buddhist moral doctrines: “Subashid”, “Eulogies of Paramita”, “The Stages of the path to enlightenment”, “Shastra of wood”, “Sahstra of water”, “Songs of the world of vessel and contents”, “Lamp for the path to enlightenment”, “A drop of Nourishment for People” of Nagarjuna, (...) etc. Therefore, ethical doctrine occupies an important place in Mongolian Buddhism. Mongol scholars made their own commentaries and took as an example the works of Indian and Tibetan great scholars who created their own ethical doctrines. An influence on Buddhist rituals and theology via Buddhist ethical doctrines was spread among the nobles and the ordinary people. The late Academician Ch. Jugder saw the period from the 16th to 18th centuries as important period for Buddhism in Mongolia. It permeated in nomadic way of life and national customs. Especially, Madhyamaka prasangika philosophy was developed, while Mongolian Buddhist philosophical works started from the first Mongolian Bogdo Lama Undur Gegeen Zanabazar’s works. Mongol thinkers contributed greatly in the development of Buddhist ethics. (shrink)

Recent bioarchaeological and phylogenetic studies have identified Central Asia as an early reservoir for Yersinia pestis, the bacterium responsible for the bubonic plague in humans and animals. Lacking documentary evidence, however, historians have heretofore been unable to find a place for South, East, and Central Asia in the premodern history of the plague. This article uses Tibetan-, Chinese-, and Khotanese-language sources to tell a history of the bubonic plague in Central Asia between the seventh and ninth centuries. From official (...) Tibetan histories, we learn of human and animal plagues at the turn of the eighth century. From the prophetic narratives of Khotan, we learn of an unnamed Chinese princess who died in Tibet with a black pox on her chest. Finally, interpreting Tibetan and Khotanese translations of an Āyurvedic medical text in light of bioarchaeological data, we can begin to retrospectively diagnose the plagues of Central Asia. More than just the documentary history of a specific plague outbreak, these sources demonstrate the variegated responses to centuries of plague in Central Asia, including narrative description, scapegoating, ritual protection, humoral diagnosis, and pharmacological and surgical therapies. The end result is an integrated account of the bubonic plague in Central Asia based on Tibetan and Khotanese explanations of epidemics. (shrink)

Tara is both a Buddhist and Hindu deity. She is widely worshipped in the esoteric branch of Buddhism: Vajrayana. Even in the exile, Tibetan refugees follow the practice and rituals associated with Tara. Lamentably, she has been given an auxiliary and secondary role in comparison to male deities. Various feminist scholars have begun to look at aspects of society through the lens of gender. They have been at the forefront of studying gender roles and its psychological consequences for those (...) who try to abide by them. In religious studies, especially in Asian context, many of these discourses are difficult to perceive because they were unconsciously appropriated as truth by the people of the society in which they circulated as an inviolable aspect of the worlds or as nature. This study is an attempt to examine the representation of Goddess in various ancient texts as essential to the study of the divine feminine. This hybrid study merges traditional Indology with feminist studies, and is intended for specialists in the field, for readers with interest in Buddhist, and for scholars of Gender studies, cultural historians, and sociologists. (shrink)

The karma-rebirth doctrine is one of the core doctrines of the Buddhist worldview. Some forms of Western Buddhism emphasize doctrinal study and meditation practice over traditional Buddhist elements that have their foundation in the karma-rebirth doctrine, such as merit-making practices and other forms of ritual. Conversely, the worldwide Gelugpa Tibetan Buddhist Foundation for the Preservation of the Mahayana Tradition (FPMT) encourages its affiliates to perform traditional ritual such as chanting and pujas to make merit for oneself and (...) others, in addition to attending teachings and developing a regular meditation practice. During their exploration of the FPMT's activities, participants undergo a process of experimental validation of the teachings and practices, in which they come to accept doctrinal notions in one of two ways: the notion's capacity to validate and give meaning to personal experience, or to lend conceptual support to the newly acquired framework of ideas. Utilizing data obtained from fieldwork undertaken between 2003 and 2006 at Vajrayana Institute (VI), an FPMT centre in Sydney, Australia, I illustrate the way in which the karma-rebirth doctrine supports those aspects of the belief-system more capable of experiential validation through their capacity to frame and give meaning to personal experience. The acceptance of notions such as karma, rebirth and merit-making involves an interpretive shift from previously held notions about cause and effect and the nature of this-worldly existence, toward a Buddhist appreciation of these concepts. (shrink)

On the translator's second visit to Dolpo in western Tibet he came across these four autobiographies of Tibetan lamas, three from the fifteenth century and one from the seventeenth century. Though the biographies appear superficially to be repetitious, they provide good insights into the lives of Tibetan holy men. Perhaps the most interesting part of the book, however, is the translator's introduction where he relates the story of his own journey to Dolpo and provides background material for the (...) biographies. The translator's own hardships in finding these texts in such a remote area give a good picture of life in the isolated areas of Tibet. For the Tibetan scholar there are indices of divinities, texts and rituals, personal names, and place names. The general index is followed by forty-five pages of black and white photographs of the area, the lamas, the art-work, etc. Last are two fold-out maps, one of Dolpo and the other of western and central Tibet.--P. J. H. (shrink)

This article considers issues of authorship and textual development over the generations, focusing on the contributions of the erudite scholar/lama Dudjom Jigdral Yeshe Dorje, to the revelations of Bhutan’s national saint, Pema Lingpa, on the tantric deity Vajrak?laya. Dudjom Rinpoche compiled a number of ritual practice texts for this revelation cycle, also writing commentarial instructions on them. Here, two of his compilations are examined in detail, considering how they relate to the original revelation, what they add, and what they (...) neglect, reflecting on what they might tell us about Tibetan approaches to continuing textual production in revelatory traditions. Much of Dudjom Rinpoche’s ‘Ultra Secret Razor Lifeforce’ Framework text for the Major Practice session reproduces virtually unchanged his earlier Framework text for the Dudjom tradition ‘Meteoric Iron Razor’, which itself draws on Guru Chöwang’s ‘Ultra Secret Razor’, as presented by Terdak Lingpa, the founder of Mindroling Monastery in central Tibet. On the other hand, Dudjom Rinpoche’s main Ritual Manual for Pema Lingpa’s cycle is more clearly rooted in the Pema Lingpa cycle, but there has been considerable re-working of the phrasing and even of some key visualisations. Some of the significant modifications were already present in an earlier Ritual Manual of the third Sungtrul or Pema Lingpa reincarnation, Tsultrim Dorje, and Dudjom Rinpoche acknowledges this source. In assessing Dudjom Rinpoche’s two texts, various aspects of the productive process are highlighted, such as: the ‘blessings’ of a current generation high status lama connected with the tradition; the needs of the ritual community for familiar textual structures and liturgies; beautiful metrical verses for chanting; the integration of materials from the broader tantric heritage, but also the preservation of some highly individual elements of the revelation. (shrink)

The purpose of this paper is to explore the contemporary postmodern appropriation and reinvention of the practice of “crazy holiness” in Russian Orthodoxy and Tibetan Buddhism, highlighting points of contact and discontinuities between the traditions. The first section of the essay will discuss the Russian phenomenon of yurodstvo, a term used to indicate radical ascetics known for their idiosyncratic behavior and their outspoken criticism of religious and political authorities. The recent phenomenon of the punk group Pussy Riot will then (...) be presented as a contemporary rendition of yurodstvo, in a post-theological context where religious rituals and practices are devoid of their metaphysical import. The second section of the essay will introduce the Tibetan phenomenon of the smyon pa, crazy yogins known for their erratic speech and behavior, but also for their readiness to criticize institutional hypocrisy and corruption. The figure of Chögyam Trungpa, a former Tibetan monastic who started the Shambala tradition of Buddhism, is then presented as a contemporary version of smyon pa; his behavior—despite unfortunate and unjustifiable instances of abuse—similarly enabled practitioners to access the truth of the dharma. This paper presents Pussy Riot and Chögyam Trungpa as postmodern instantiations of crazy holiness—for a post-metaphysical and post-religious world where the divine no longer indwells traditional practices but can be still accessed and displayed through performative subversion. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The 2005 Meeting of the Society for Buddhist-Christian StudiesFrances S. Adeney, SecretaryThe annual meeting of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies was held in Philadelphia on November 18, 2005. The theme of the program was visual and aural expressions in Christianity and Buddhism and their relationship to religious practice.The focus of the first session was visual images of sacred art. Victoria Scarlett presented the paper "The Iconography of Compassion: Visualizing (...) Guanyin and the Virgin Mary." She noted that meditation exercises that explore visual imagery can mediate the experience of the holy in both Buddhism and Christianity. By comparing and contrasting the images of Guanyin and the Virgin Mary through both commentary and slides, she pointed toward the qualities of compassion, healing, empathy, generosity, and selfless love presented in both Buddhism and Christianity. Scarlett stressed the role of visualization in generating compassion and taking responsibility for cultivating and living the devotional life. Engaging the religious imagination in those visual ways, she said, can help us generate compassion in our world today.Alice Keefe presented the second paper, "The Visual Dimension of Religion in Comparative Perspective." She challenged the assumption that visual experience is a derived or secondary aspect of religious life. As Tibetan Buddhism clearly shows, through its depiction of Buddhas, lamas, bodisattvas, and deities, the divine is form as well as formless. In Christian Orthodox traditions, the icon is viewed as material and glory, the transcendent visible to the human eye. Visual images in both Buddhist and Christian traditions indicate the possibility of transformation as one imagines one's own body as a body of light.Keefe challenged us to bring the centrality of the visual in Buddhism and some portions of Christianity into our academic discussion. Western thinkers present the body in opposition to the spiritual, sometimes understanding images as idolatrous. We assume that the generative locus of meaning is in the subjective consciousness and seek out ideas, ignoring the body. However, communicating an idea is not the [End Page 181] object of visual attention to an icon—rather, it involves the constitution of a self in relation to others. Through practices that activate the visual dimension of religions, we come to know ourselves as part of a pantheon of beings.Rita Gross responded to both papers, focusing on the biases of Western religion in the study of Buddhism. The prohibition of idolatry in Western religion has been identified with the sense of sight, rather than hearing or the use of words. Furthermore, idolatry is always a category defined by outsiders, Gross asserted. People who use the sense of sight to reach beyond themselves to the sacred know what they are doing. The papers and visual images presented gave the attendees insight into how that might happen in Buddhism and Christianity.Michael Monhart and Jisho Shizuka opened the second session with their presentation of "Chanting as Practice: Japanese Shingon Buddhist Sutra Chant." After a brief history of the Shingon sect, the presenters focused on a central aspect of Shingon chanting practice: a realization of one's inherent Buddha-nature in this life. Through activating the mysteries of the ritual activities of the body, voice, and mind, chanting develops the specific connection between Buddha-nature and human nature. An explanation of the chanting itself—its modes, patterns, and energies—led to the conclusion that sound and word become reality through their use by the practitioner of ritual, a conclusion that was demonstrated by the chanting of three sutras.Bill McJohn and Joseph Anderson next presented their work, "The Aural Dimension of Religion: Chanting Psalms in Gregorian Chant." McJohn focused on the history of chanting the Psalter, beginning in the monasteries of the fourth century. Singing the Psalms was motivated by a desire to pray constantly, and as the monastic communities developed, a practice of working through the 150 psalms developed. A shorter version, which eventually became the rosary, also developed. Anderson noted that the recitation of the Psalms is the analog to Buddhist chanting of the sutras. One is actually speaking as the Christ in recitation of the Psalms. Both also find a balance between time and timelessness as they are re-created in different ways... (shrink)

Copious examples in the writings of Mongolian Buddhist authors demonstrate the significance of the Kāvyadarśa in the development of the Mongolian poetic tradition. Numerous versified eulogies, prayers, verses recited at the time of ritual offerings, benedictions in colophons, and other poetic works written by Mongolian scholars of the late seventeenth through the early twentieth centuries evidence their authors’ attempts to follow Daṇḍin’s principle of alaṃkāras and the influence of other theoretical principles of the Kāvyadarśaon their writings. Although the Kāvyadarśawas (...) translated into the Mongolian language in the first half of the eighteenth century, at the time of the formation of the Mongolian Danjur by Khalkha translator Gelegjaltsan, Mongolian Buddhist scholars had become well acquainted with the Kāvyadarśa through the Tibetan translations of this text and through indigenous Tibetan commentaries on it. However, it is plausible that already in the Yuan court of the thirteenth century, and slightly later in the fourteenth century, some Mongolian scholars had access to the Kāvyadarśain its first, complete Tibetan version, which was produced in the latter part of the thirteenth century. (shrink)

Your concise guide to Buddhism, mindfulness, and meditation! The Everything Essential Buddhism Book is your beginner's guide to the Buddhist principles of nonviolence, mindfulness, and self-awareness. Learn about the deceptively simple truths of this enigmatic religion, including: The life of Buddha and his continuing influence throughout the world; Buddha's teachings and the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism; The Noble Eightfold Path and how it should guide you; What the Sutras say about education, marriage, sex, and death; The proven physiological effects (...) of meditation; The growing impact of Buddhism on modern American culture. Also included is instruction for the many forms of Buddhist meditation, including Zen and Tibetan practices. Most important, you will learn how you can apply the tenets of Buddhism to your daily life--and achieve clarity and inner peace in the process. (shrink)

Corpus of treatises of Gelukpa doctrines, philosophies, rituals etc.