A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

The Reconciliation of Races and Religions

T >> Thomas Kelly Cheyne >> The Reconciliation of Races and Religions




The Sangha, or Monastic Community, is the third treasure of Buddhism,
and the satisfaction of the Buddhist laity with the monastic body is
said to be very great. At any rate, the cause of education in Burma
owes much to the monks, but it is hard to realize how the Monastic
Community can be in the same sense a 'refuge' from the miseries of the
world as the Buddha or Dharmakâya.

The name Dharmakâya [Footnote: Johnston, _Buddhist China_,
p. 77.] (Body of Dharma, or system of rightness) may strike strangely
upon our ears, but northern Buddhism makes much of it, and even though
it may not go back to Sakya Muni himself, it is a development of germs
latent in his teaching; and to my own mind there is no more wonderful
conception in the great religions than that of Dharmakâya. If any one
attacks our Buddhist friends for atheism, they have only to refer (if
they can admit a synthesis of northern and southern doctrines) to the
conception of Dharmakâya, of Him who is 'for ever Divine and
Eternal,' who is 'the One, devoid of all determinations.' 'This Body
of Dharma,' we are told, 'has no boundary, no quarters, but is
embodied in all bodies.... All forms of corporeality are involved
therein; it is able to create all things. Assuming any concrete
material form, as required by the nature and condition of karma, it
illuminates all creations.... There is no place in the universe where
this Body does not prevail. The universe becomes dust; this Body for
ever remains. It is free from all opposites and contraries, yet it is
working in all things to lead them to Nirvana.' [Footnote: Suzuki,
_Outlines_, pp. 223-24.]

In fact, this Dharmakâya is the ultimate principle of cosmic energy.
We may call it principle, but it is not, like Brahman, absolutely
impersonal. Often it assumes personality, when it receives the name
of Tathagata. It has neither passions nor prejudices, but works for
the salvation of all sentient beings universally. Love (_karunâ_) and
intelligence (_bodhi_) are equally its characteristics. It is only
the veil of illusion (_maya_) which prevents us from seeing
Dharmakâya in its magnificence. When this veil is lifted, individual
existences as such will lose their significance; they will become
sublimated and ennobled in the oneness of Dharmakâya. [Footnote:
_Ibid_. p. 179.]

Will the reader forgive me if I mention some other jewels of the
Buddhist faith? One is the Buddha Ami'tabha, and the other Kuanyin
or Kwannon, his son or daughter; others will be noted presently. The
latter is especially popular in China and Japan, and is generally
spoken of by Europeans as the 'Goddess of Mercy.' 'Goddess,' however,
is incorrect, [Footnote: Johnston, _Buddhist China_, p. 123.]
just as 'God' would be incorrect in the case of Ami'tabha. Sakya
Muni was considered greater than any of the gods. All such Beings
were saviours and helpers to man, just as Jesus is looked up to by
Christian believers as a saviour and deliverer, and perhaps I might
add, just as there are, according to the seer-poet Dante, three
compassionate women (_donne_) in heaven. [Footnote: Dante,
_D.C., Inf._ ii. 124 _f_. The 'blessed women' seem to be
Mary (the mother of Christ), Beatrice, and Lucia.] Kwannon and her
Father may surely be retained by Chinese and Japanese, not as gods,
but as gracious _bodhisatts_ (i.e. Beings whose essence is
intelligence).

I would also mention here as 'jewels' of the Buddhists (1) their
tenderness for all living creatures. Legend tells of Sakya Muni that
in a previous state of existence he saved the life of a doe and her
young one by offering his own life as a substitute. In one of the
priceless panels of Bôrôbudûr in Java this legend is beautifully
used. [Footnote: Havell, _Indian Sculpture and Painting_,
p. 123.] It must indeed have been almost more impressive to the
Buddhists even than Buddha's precept.

E'en as a mother watcheth o'er her child,
Her only child, as long as life doth last,
So let us, for all creatures great or small,
Develop such a boundless heart and mind,
Ay, let us practise love for all the world,
Upward and downward, yonder, thence,
Uncramped, free from ill-will and enmity.[a]

[Footnote a: Mrs. Rhys Davids, _Buddhism_, p. 219.]

(2 and 3) Faith in the universality of inspiration and a hearty
admission that spiritual pre-eminence is open to women. As to the
former, Suzuki has well pointed out that Christ is conceived of by
Buddhists quite as the Buddha himself. [Footnote: Suzuki, _Outlines
of the Mahâyâna Buddhism_.] 'The Dharmakâya revealed itself as
Sakya Muni to the Indian mind, because that was in harmony with its
needs. The Dharmakâya appeared in the person of Christ on the Semitic
stage, because it suited their taste best in this way.' As to the
latter, there were women in the ranks of the Arahats in early times;
and, as the _Psalms of the Brethren_ show, there were even
child-Arahats, and, so one may presume, girl-Arahats. And if it is
objected that this refers to the earlier and more flourishing period
of the Buddhist religion, yet it is in a perfectly modern summary of
doctrine that we find these suggestive words, [Footnote: Omoro in
_Oxford Congress of Religions, Transactions_, i. 152.] 'With this
desire even a maiden of seven summers [Footnote: 'The age of seven is
assigned to all at their ordination' (_Psalms of the Brethren_,
p. xxx.) The reference is to child-Arahats.] may be a leader of the
four multitudes of beings.' That spirituality has nothing to do with
the sexes is the most wonderful law in the teachings of the Buddhas.'

India being the home of philosophy, it is not surprising either that
Indian religion should take a predominantly philosophical form, or
that there should be a great variety of forms of Indian religion. This
is not to say that the feelings were neglected by the framers of
Indian theory, or that there is any essential difference between the
forms of Indian religion. On the contrary, love and intelligence are
inseparably connected in that religion and there are fundamental ideas
which impart a unity to all the forms of Hindu religion. That form of
religion, however, in which love (_karunâ_) receives the highest
place, and becomes the centre conjointly with intelligence of a theory
of emancipation and of perfect Buddhahood, is neither Vedantism nor
primitive Buddhism, but that later development known as the
Mahâyâna. Germs indeed there are of the later theory; and how
should there not be, considering the wisdom and goodness of those who
framed those systems? How beautiful is that ancient description of
him who would win the joy of living in Brahma (Tagore, _Sadhanâ_,
p. 106), and not much behind it is the following passage of the
Bhagavad-Gita, 'He who hates no single being, who is friendly and
compassionate to all ... whose thought and reason are directed to Me,
he who is [thus] devoted to Me is dear to Me' (Discourse xii. 13, 14).
This is a fine utterance, and there are others as fine.

One may therefore expect that most Indian Vedantists will, on entering
the Bahai Society, make known as widely as they can the beauties of
the Bhagavad-Gita. I cannot myself profess that I admire the contents
as much as some Western readers, but much is doubtless lost to me
through my ignorance of Sanskrit. Prof. Garbe and Prof. Hopkins,
however, confirm me in my view that there is often a falling off in
the immediateness of the inspiration, and that many passages have been
interpolated. It is important to mention this here because it is
highly probable that in future the Scriptures of the various churches
and sects will be honoured by being read, not less devotionally but
more critically. Not the Bibles as they stand at present are
revealed, but the immanent Divine Wisdom. Many things in the outward
form of the Scriptures are, for us, obsolete. It devolves upon us, in
the spirit of filial respect, to criticize them, and so help to clear
the ground for a new prophet.

A few more quotations from the fine Indian Scriptures shall be
given. Their number could be easily increased, and one cannot blame
those Western admirers of the Gita who display almost as fervent an
enthusiasm for the unknown author of the Gita as Dante had for his
_savio duca_ in his fearsome pilgrimage.


THE BHAGAVAD-GITA AND THE UPANISHADS

Such criticism was hardly possible in England, even ten or twenty
years ago, except for the Old Testament. Some scholars, indeed, had
had their eyes opened, but even highly cultured persons in the
lay-world read the Bhagavad-Gita with enthusiastic admiration but
quite uncritically. Much as I sympathize with Margaret Noble (Sister
Nivedita), Jane Hay (of St. Abb's, Berwickshire, N.B.), and Rose
R. Anthon, I cannot desire that their excessive love for the Gita
should find followers. I have it on the best authority that the
apparent superiority of the Indian Scriptures to those of the
Christian world influenced Margaret Noble to become 'Sister
Nivedita'--a great result from a comparatively small cause. And Miss
Anthon shows an excess of enthusiasm when she puts these words
(without note or comment) into the mouth of an Indian student:--

'But now, O sire, I have found all the wealth and treasure and honour
of the universe in these words that were uttered by the King of Kings,
the Lover of Love, the Giver of Heritages. There is nothing I ask
for; no need is there in my being, no want in my life that this Gita
does not fill to overflowing.' [Footnote: _Stories of India_,
1914, p. 138.]

There are in fact numerous passages in the Gita which, united, would
form a _Holy Living_ and a _Holy Dying_, if we were at the
pains to add to the number of the passages a few taken from the
Upanishads. Vivekananda and Rabindranath Tagore have already studded
their lectures with jewels from the Indian Scriptures. The Hindus
themselves delight in their holy writings, but if these writings are
to become known in the West, the grain must first be sifted. In other
words, there must be literary and perhaps also (I say it humbly) moral
criticism.

I will venture to add a few quotations:--

'Whenever there is a decay of religion, O Bhâratas, and an ascendency
of irreligion, then I manifest myself.

'For the protection of the good, for the destruction of evildoers, for
the firm establishment of religion, I am born in every age.'

The other passages are not less noble.

'They also who worship other gods and make offering to them with
faith, O son of Kunti, do verily make offering to me, though not
according to ordinance.'

'Never have I not been, never hast thou, and never shall time yet come
when we shall not all be. That which pervades this universe is
imperishable; there is none can make to perish that changeless
being. This never is born, and never dies, nor may it after being come
again to be not; this unborn, everlasting, abiding, Ancient, is not
slain when the body is slain. Knowing This to be imperishable,
everlasting, unborn, changeless, how and whom can a man make to be
slain or slay? As a man lays aside outworn garments, and takes others
that are new, so the Body-Dweller puts away outworn bodies and goes to
others that are new. Everlasting is This, dwelling in all things,
firm, motionless, ancient of days.'


JUDAISM

Judaism, too, is so rich in spiritual treasures that I hesitate to
single out more than a very few jewels. It is plain, however, that it
needs to be reformed, and that this need is present in many of the
traditional forms which enshrine so noble a spiritual experience. The
Sabbath, for instance, is as the apple of his eye to every
true-hearted Jew; he addresses it in his spiritual songs as a
Princess. And he does well; the title Princess belongs of right to
'Shabbath.' For the name--be it said in passing--is probably a
corruption of a title of the Mother-goddess Ashtart, and it would, I
think, have been no blameworthy act if the religious transformers of
Israelite myths had made a special myth, representing Shabbath as a
man. When the Messiah comes, I trust that _He_ will do this. For
'the Son of Man is Lord also of the Sabbath.'

The faith of the Messiah is another of Israel's treasures. Or rather,
perhaps I should say, the faith in the Messiahs, for one Messiah will
not meet the wants of Israel or the world. The Messiah, or the
Being-like-a-man (Dan. vii. 13), is a supernatural Being, who appears
on earth when he is wanted, like the Logos. We want Messiah badly now;
specially, I should say, we Christians want 'great-souled ones'
(Mahatmas), who can 'guide us into all the truth' (John xvi. 13). That
they have come in the past, I doubt not. God could not have left his
human children in the lurch for all these centuries. One thousand
Jews of Tihran are said to have accepted Baha'ullah as the expected
Messiah. They were right in what they affirmed, and only wrong in
what they denied. And are we not all wrong in virtually denying the
Messiahship of women-leaders like Kurratu'l 'Ayn; at least, I have
only met with this noble idea in a work of Fiona Macleod.


CHRISTIANITY


And what of our own religion?

What precious jewels are there which we can share with our Oriental
brethren? First of all one may mention that wonderful picture of the
divine-human Saviour, which, full of mystery as it is, is capable of
attracting to its Hero a fervent and loving loyalty, and melting the
hardest heart. We have also a portrait (implicit in the Synoptic
Gospels)--the product of nineteenth century criticism--of the same
Jesus Christ, and yet who could venture to affirm that He really was
the same, or that a subtle aroma had not passed away from the Life of
lives? In this re-painted portrait we have, no longer a divine man,
but simply a great and good Teacher and a noble Reformer. This
portrait too is in its way impressive, and capable of lifting men
above their baser selves, but it would obviously be impossible to take
this great Teacher and Reformer for the Saviour and Redeemer of
mankind.

We have further a pearl of great price in the mysticism of Paul, which
presupposes, not the Jesus of modern critics, nor yet the Jesus of the
Synoptics, but a splendid heart-uplifting Jesus in the colours of
mythology. In this Jesus Paul lived, and had a constant ecstatic joy
in the everlasting divine work of creation. He was 'crucified with
Christ,' and it was no longer Paul that lived, but Christ that lived
in him. And the universe--which was Paul's, inasmuch as it was
Christ's--was transformed by the same mysticism. 'It was,' says
Evelyn Underhill, [Footnote: _The Mystic Way_, p. 194 (chap. iii.
'St. Paul and the Mystic Way').] 'a universe soaked through and
through by the Presence of God: that transcendent-immanent Reality,
"above all, and through all, and in you all" as fontal "Father,"
energising "Son," indwelling "Spirit," in whom every mystic, Christian
or non-Christian, is sharply aware that "we live and move and have our
being." To his extended consciousness, as first to that of Jesus, this
Reality was more actual than anything else--"God is all in all."'

It is true, this view of the Universe as God-filled is probably not
Paul's, for the Epistles to the Ephesians and Colossians are hardly
that great teacher's work. But it is none the less authentic, 'God is
all and in all'; the whole Universe is temporarily a symbol by which
God is at once manifested and veiled. I fear we have largely lost
this. It were therefore better to reconquer this truth by India's
help. Probably indeed the initial realization of the divinity of the
universe (including man) is due to an increased acquaintance with the
East and especially with Persia and India.

And I venture to think that Catholic Christians have conferred a boon
on their Protestant brethren by emphasizing the truth of the feminine
element (see pp. 31, 37) in the manifestation of the Deity, just as
the Chinese and Japanese Buddhists have done for China and Japan, and
the modern reformers of Indian religion have done for India. This too
is a 'gem of purest ray.'



PART II

BIOGRAPHICAL AND HISTORICAL


SEYYID 'ALI MUHAMMAD (THE BAB)

Seyyid 'Ali Muhammad was born at Hafiz' city. It was not his lot,
however, to rival that great lyric poet; God had far other designs for
him. Like St. Francis, he had a merchant for his father, but this too
was widely apart from 'AH Muhammad's destiny, which was neither more
nor less than to be a manifestation of the Most High. His birthday was
on the 1st Muharrem, A.H. 1236 (March 26, A.D. 1821). His maternal
uncle, [Footnote: This relative of the Bab is mentioned in
Baha-'ullah's _Book of Ighan_, among the men of culture who
visited Baha-'ullah at Baghdad and laid their difficulties before
him. His name was Seyyid 'Ali Muhammad (the same name as the
Bab's).] however, had to step in to take a father's place; he was
early left an orphan. When eighteen or nineteen years of age he was
sent, for commercial reasons, to Bushire, a place with a villainous
climate on the Persian Gulf, and there he wrote his first book, still
in the spirit of Shi'ite orthodoxy.

It was in A.D. 1844 that a great change took place, not so much in
doctrine as in the outward framework of Ali Muhammad's life. That
the twelfth Imam should reappear to set up God's beneficent kingdom,
that his 'Gate' should be born just when tradition would have him to
be born, was perhaps not really surprising; but that an ordinary lad
of Shiraz should be chosen for this high honour was exciting, and
would make May 23rd a day memorable for ever. [Footnote: _TN_,
pp. 3 (n.1), 220 _f_.; cp. _AMB_, p. 204.]

It was, in fact, on this day (at 2.5 A.M.) that, having turned to God
for help, he cried out, 'God created me to instruct these ignorant
ones, and to save them from the error into which they are plunged.'
And from this time we cannot doubt that the purifying west wind
breathed over the old Persian land which needed it so sadly.

It is probable, however, that the reformer had different ideas of
discipleship. In one of his early letters he bids his correspondent
take care to conceal his religion until he can reveal it without
fear. Among his chief disciples were that gallant knight called the
'Gate's Gate,' Kuddus, and his kind uncle. Like most religious
leaders he attached great worth to pilgrimages. He began by journeying
to the Shi'ite holy places, consecrated by the events of the Persian
Passion-play. Then he embarked at Bushire, accompanied (probably) by
Kuddus. The winds, however, were contrary, and he was glad to rest a
few days at Mascat. It is probable that at Mecca (the goal of his
journey) he became completely detached from the Muhammadan form of
Islam. There too he made arrangements for propaganda. Unfavourable
as the times seemed, his disciples were expected to have the courage
of their convictions, and even his uncle, who was no longer young,
became a fisher of men. This, it appears to me, is the true
explanation of an otherwise obscure direction to the uncle to return
to Persia by the overland route, _via_ Baghdad, 'with the verses
which have come down from God.'

The overland route would take the uncle by the holy places of 'Irak;
'Ali [Muh.]ammad's meaning therefore really is that his kinsman is to
have the honour of evangelizing the important city of Baghdad, and of
course the pilgrims who may chance to be at Karbala and Nejef. These
were, to Shi'ites, the holiest of cities, and yet the reformer had the
consciousness that there was no need of searching for a
_kibla_. God was everywhere, but if one place was holier than
another, it was neither Jerusalem nor Mecca, but Shiraz. To this
beautiful city he returned, nothing loth, for indeed the manners of
the pilgrims were the reverse of seemly. His own work was purely
spiritual: it was to organize an attack on a foe who should have been,
but was no longer, spiritual.

Among his first steps was sending the 'First to Believe' to Isfahan to
make a conquest of the learned Mulla Mukaddas. His expectation was
fully realized. Mukaddas was converted, and hastened to Shiraz,
eager to prove his zeal. His orders were (according to one tradition)
to introduce the name of 'Ali Muhammad into the call to prayer
(_azan_) and to explain a passage in the commentary on the Sura
of Joseph. This was done, and the penalty could not be delayed. After
suffering insults, which to us are barely credible, Mukaddas and his
friend found shelter for three days in Shiraz in the Bab's house.

It should be noted that I here employ the symbolic name 'the Bab.'
There is a traditional saying of the prophet Muhammad, 'I am the
city of knowledge, and 'Ali is its Gate.' It seems, however, that
there is little, if any, difference between 'Gate' (_Bab_) and
'Point' (_nukta_), or between either of these and 'he who shall
arise' (_ka'im_) and 'the Imam Mahdi.' But to this we shall
return presently.

But safety was not long to be had by the Bab or by his disciples
either in Shiraz or in Bushire (where the Bab then was). A fortnight
afterwards twelve horsemen were sent by the governor of Fars to
Bushire to arrest the Bab and bring him back to Shiraz. Such at
least is one tradition, [Footnote: _AMB_, p. 226.] but some
Babis, according to Nicolas, energetically deny it. Certainly it
is not improbable that the governor, who had already taken action
against the Babi missionaries, should wish to observe the Bab
within a nearer range, and inflict a blow on his growing
popularity. Unwisely enough, the governor left the field open to the
mullas, who thought by placing the pulpit of the great mosque at his
disposal to be able to find material for ecclesiastical censure. But
they had left one thing out of their account--the ardour of the
Bab's temperament and the depth of his conviction. And so great was
the impression produced by the Bab's sermon that the Shah
Muhammad, who heard of it, sent a royal commissioner to study the
circumstances on the spot. This step, however, was a complete
failure. One may doubt indeed whether the Sayyid Yahya was ever a
politician or a courtier. See below, p. 90.

The state of things had now become so threatening that a peremptory
order to the governor was sent from the court to put an end to such a
display of impotence. It is said that the aid of assassins was not to
be refused; the death of the Bab might then be described as 'a
deplorable accident.' The Bab himself was liable at any moment to be
called into a conference of mullas and high state-officers, and asked
absurd questions. He got tired of this and thought he would change his
residence, especially as the cholera came and scattered the
population. Six miserable months he had spent in Shiraz, and it was
time for him to strengthen and enlighten the believers elsewhere. The
goal of his present journey was Isfahan, but he was not without hopes
of soon reaching Tihran and disabusing the mind of the Shah of the
false notions which had become lodged in it. So, after bidding
farewell to his relatives, he and his secretary and another well-tried
companion turned their backs on the petty tyrant of Shiraz.
[Footnote: _AMB_, p. 370.] The Bab, however, took a very wise
precaution. At the last posting station before Isfahan he wrote to
Minuchihr Khan, the governor (a Georgian by origin), announcing his
approach and invoking the governor's protection.

Minuchihr Khan, who was religiously openminded though not scrupulous
enough in the getting of money, [Footnote: _NH_, p. 346.]
granted this request, and sent word to the leading mulla (the
Imam-Jam'a) that he should proffer hospitality to this eminent
new-comer. This the Imam did, and so respectful was he for 'forty
days' that he used to bring the basin for his guest to wash his hands
at mealtimes. [Footnote: _Ibid_. p. 372.] The rapidity with
which the Bab indited (or revealed) a commentary on a _sura_ of
the Kur'an greatly impressed him, but afterwards he gave way to the
persecuting tendencies of his colleagues, who had already learned to
dread the presence of Babite missionaries. At the bidding of the
governor, however, who had some faith in the Bab and hoped for the
best, a conference was arranged between the mullas and the Bab
(poor man!) at the governor's house. The result was that Minuchihr
Khan declared that the mullas had by no means proved the reformer to
be an impostor, but that for the sake of peace he would at once send
the Bab with an escort of horsemen to the capital. This was to all
appearance carried out. The streets were crowded as the band of
mounted men set forth, some of the Isfahanites (especially the
mullas) rejoicing, but a minority inwardly lamenting. This, however,
was only a blind. The governor cunningly sent a trusty horseman with
orders to overtake the travellers a short distance out of Isfahan, and
bring them by nightfall to the governor's secret apartments or (as
others say) to one of the royal palaces. There the Bab had still to
spend a little more than four untroubled halcyon months.

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.