Heresy
Selfish Nirvana

I wrote a poem the other day and named it Heresy. It reads:

Whoever speaks of
  a selfish Nirvana
denigrates Nirvana

For there is no such thing
  has never been such a thing
will never be such a thing
  cannot be such a thing

It is an impossible thing
for Nirvana
  by its very nature
  is selfless

What prompted this brief outpouring was reading, again, as in so many other places, in another treatise on Buddhist history how up through the years (and still the case in many quarters would be my guess) Mahayana Buddhists looked down upon the Theravada Buddhist, applying the denigrating designation of Hinayana to those selfish people—which, if we’re calling a spade a spade here, would include Gotama Buddha, very much a Theravadin.

Mahayana, by the way, means The Great Wagon, while Hinayana means The Lesser Wagon, and “Lesser” is usually understood as “Selfish.”

The problem?

The problem is that the goal of the Theravada Path—the other shore—as proclaimed and explained and taught by the historical Gotama Buddha all during his forty-five-year ministry, is the Arahant, the practitioner who finally enters Nirvana, the follower of Gotama who has shed all cravings and attachments to the world of desires and senses (aka Samsara) and who, after crossing the Samsaric river, has now arrived at the far shore, awakened, free (I picture wide, airy smiles).

So, what’s the problem?

The problem, the unforgivable thing in many a Mahayana minds, is that gaining freedom for yourself while leaving the rest of the world behind to fend for itself is a very selfish thing to do. Yes, that sums up the Mahayana view of Hinayana.

Well, I have a problem with that.

What’s my problem?

My problem is that long before reaching Nirvana the Theravadin has let go of Self, and has committed a soft but thorough egocide as it were. Ego and Nirvana are diametrically opposed, not unethical bedfellows as implied by some not well-informed Mahayana voices.

Further, I am convinced that anyone who holds the Arahant ideal to be a selfish ideal has him- or herself not attained Nirvana—a state that (most Buddhists, of whatever ilk, agree) cannot be described in words or grasped by the rational, reasoning mind. Not even close.

Nirvana is a state beyond Samsara, a freedom beyond craving, thirst, lust, and, yes, beyond the self and its intrinsic selfishness. In fact, the self is shed as so much dry snakeskin before the true Theravadin even sets foot on the craft for his river crossing.

It is also beyond language.

The point here is that those who claim the Arahant to be selfish have no idea—only conjectures, never certainties—what attaining Nirvana actually entails, very few humans do. For all we know it can be the most selfless, compassionate state life can possibly attain, which Gotama Buddha of course would have known and which may be why he continued to encourage his disciples to get there, sooner rather than later.

Unless you have attained true Nirvana and found it the very pinnacle of selfishness, you have no right to pass judgment on anyone who truly crosses the Samsaric River. In fact, how could you possibly? Silence would be my suggestion.

Which reminds me of a great Buddhist analogy. Those who have not attained enlightenment like to talk about it, a lot. Like to beat their own holy drums, as it were. Someone who has crossed the river usually says nothing. An empty gourd, goes the analogy, makes a lot of noise. A full gourd stays silent.

Another point here is that no Buddhist, of whatever sect, has ever held Gotama Buddha out to be selfish, or teaching selfishness. Gotama himself attained Nirvana. Would such a man have taught his disciples to follow a selfish path? Was his Parinibbana (final Nirvana) a selfish act?

No, we don’t know what Nirvana is like. We have dreams about it, hopes about it, speculations, conjecture, but we don’t know. As I said, it might be the most unselfish state of affairs imaginable. Each and every Arahant might be the most efficient, most compassionate being to be found anywhere in the universe.

We don’t know, do we?

That said, let me add my observation that humans often do not seem to thrive unless they can look down upon someone lesser, unless they find someone to step on to raise themselves a little higher, which, of course, is a very good example of selfishness. Loud, empty gourds.

Even today, in a recent work (excellent, by the way), Taigen Daniel Leighton, a well-known Zen master, writes that “Checking out of the realm of suffering into personal enlightenment is seen as the fundamental violation of the spirit of bodhisattva ethics.” (Leighton, Taigen Daniel; “Faces of Compassion: Classic Bodhisattva Archetypes and Their Modern Expression — An Introduction to Mahayana Buddhism” [p. 67]. Wisdom Publications.)

In other words, the view that checking out of Samsara and entering Nirvana is not quite cricket is still alive and well.

And here lurks another problem of mine, Leighton’s use of the phrase “personal enlightenment.” It is a contradiction in terms.

If Nirvana, as many Mahayana scholars do hold it to be, is the ultimate state of self-less emptiness, how can it possibly be personal? Answer me that. Please.

All this said, the Bodhisattva ideal is both well-reasoned and beautiful. The vow not to enter Nirvana until all beings in the Universe have entered as well is a wonderful statement and aspiration of compassion. It is a beautiful thought. But that is not to say that the Arahant is not the more efficient savior of souls.

The most compassionate.

We just don’t know.

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