Tag Archives: disciples

Pilgrimage – Part II

14 Aug

The name, “Sarnath”, had a kind of sinister inflection in my mind. It reminded me of Golgotha. But, as I traveled there, I learned that Sarnath is actually shorthand for a longer word that means “Lord of the Deer.” It was now the name for the area surrounding the deer park where the Buddha had given his first teaching of the Dharma to his 5 companions. Sarnath is located about 13km to the northeast of the ancient city of Benares (Varanasi) and I would stay there for a few nights and take a day trip to Sarnath.

The Ghats of Varanasi, India (2009)

The funny thing was that I wasn’t too far off by thinking of Golgotha on my way there because Varanasi had a skull-like form and netherworld glow to it. Its vertiginous old buildings vomited out steps that led down to the banks of the Ganges below. And there was the dark plume of smoke that seemed to continually float above one of the ghats in particular. I would soon learn that this was Manikarnika Ghat — the pre-eminent cremation ground in all of Hinduism. I could faintly see this ghat in the distance and wasn’t ready to experience its power on that first day. As it so happened, I was only able to spend just an hour or so around the ghats that were near my Varanasi hotel on that first day. The water level of the Ganges was so low that large sand bars were exposed. These weren’t small banks of sand, but instead were large mounds that rose several feet above the ground. The clouds overhead started moving fast as a wild wind picked up and then the exposed sand bars took flight — meaning twisters picked up the sand and blew them with a ferocity toward the ghats. I was swiftly caught in a severe sandstorm and wasn’t able to breathe or open my eyes. I put on my sunglasses, pulled my shirt over my mouth, and ducked behind a wall. Incredibly, the sand whipped around the wall and swarmed over me. I could feel my ears get plugged up and things got muffled. For a few moments, all my senses were snuffed out in some way and I was in the black. I had no idea if anyone else was around, but the streets had to be deserted. It then dawned on me that the locals must have known about these sandstorms. The monsoon was late and it was the end of June of 2009. These early afternoon winds must have hit the Ganges with some regularity, so the shopkeepers, faithful, and cricketers alike knew when it was time to take cover. I had no choice but to make my way back to the hotel until the sandstorm subsided. When I got to my room, I was hoping to cool down and clean off. Unfortunately, there were constant rolling blackouts that kept knocking out the A/C and the lights. I washed myself in the dark and laid down on my bed to recover. I silently hoped that when I visited Sarnath, the deer park would live up to its reputation as being a place of serenity and calm.

Dhamekha Stupa – Sarnath, India

The next day I flagged down a Bajaj rickshaw and told the driver to take me to Sarnath. Cruising on these 3-wheelers – whether a tuk-tuk in Thailand or elsewhere – is always the same. You suck in alot of exhaust and hot thick air while dodging motorcycles, bikes, pedestrians, trucks, and cars. Once in a while, you get a driver that is drunk, whacked out, or just too eager to take you to some brothel. It’s usually fun in any situation though. The tricky part is having enough cash on you to pay the driver after you (hopefully) barter out the price in advance. The road to Sarnath was long and winding and we did have a bump with a motorcycle, but that was resolved with an apology and some pulling back of the bent parts into place. I was dropped off at the entrance to the archaeological site. I paid the entrance fee and walked into a green park which contained the ruins of an old monastery, a flattened stupa, and some old broken pillars erected by Ashoka and destroyed many, many centuries later by Turkish invaders. Looming above it all was the only monument that was still largely intact. This was the Dhamekha Stupa. It had been built at the location where the Buddha had given his first sermon to his companions. It was where the wheel of the Dharma had first rotated into the world. The Stupa conveyed a majesty and simplicity to it. It looked like a giant brick thimble from afar. It had a sense of utility. As I got closer, the intricate detail and patterns that still remained on the lower half of the Stupa jumped out at me: floral wreaths, swirling patterns, and overlapping shakti symbols (perverted into what was known as the swastika in 20th century). I walked around the Stupa 3 times clockwise and imagined myself becoming part of the wheel. That was the utility of this structure – its design roped you in and you want to glom on to its side and become part of its pattern work. Sarnath did still contain an actual deer park, but this had been moved to a newer area and outside of the archaeological zone where the Dhamekha Stupa sat. Just a little further up the road, a modern version of the Mahabodhi temple had been built during the early 20th century, and behind this temple was the deer park– although from what I remember the deer were penned up in a corral which was part of a zoo where a donation or fee had to be paid. But, given the crush of humanity that India teemed with, it was still a relief to have some kind of haven for these deer which were ultimately descendants of those deer that had lived in the park during the Buddha’s time.

Detail – Dhamekha Stupa

The Dhamekha Stupa itself dates back to about 500 AD and was built over an earlier stupa that Ashoka had built upon his visit to Sarnath in the mid-3rd century. Ashoka had also erected an exquisite 4-headed lion capital that crowned a tall pillar he had placed in Sarnath to commemorate his visit. This lion capital was struck by lighting and had fallen to the ground intact. It was now housed in the Sarnath Museum which was around the corner from the park. The capital was epic in scope and purpose. 4 lions placed back-to-back-to-back-to-back and other animals like an elephant, bull, and horse spaced below them. A large wheel of the Dharma was thought to have been built over the head of the lions, but that wheel has been lost. Below the paws of each lion appeared to be another wheel design of some sort. It looked like a wheel of a chariot, but I thought it could have been a rendering of the wheel of the Dharma. This lion capital is now the emblem that is set smack dab in the center of the national flag of India. So, the Buddhist emperor, Ashoka, had left a legacy that went beyond just making his own pilgrimages to the key places of the Buddhist’s life. In his quest to memorialize these visits, he created a symbol for a new country which more than 2000 years later would seek to gain independence and forge its own identity and nationhood. One could see the hand of the Sangha behind this legacy. Because again, the lion capital would never have made it through the marauding and colonial plundering that depleted much of the old Mauryan dynasty of Ashoka without the watchful eyes of the Sangha. Like Sanghamitta’s act to salvage the Bodhi Tree, I was able to see the Lion Capital at the Sarnath Museum because of the Sangha’s dogged preservation of this important relic. As I returned back to Varanasi, I mentally prepared for the next day where I was determined to make the walk to Manikarnika Ghat and into the beyond.

Sangha

31 Jul

The 5 companions were now disciples and in turn they each spawned their own followers. As the Buddha travelled throughout the land, his teachings and storytelling took root and grew like the canopied branches of the banyan trees around him. People began to take notice of the Buddha’s wanderings into their towns and villages.  Some people were so moved by the serenity and peace that the Buddha brought with him that these people provided food, clothing, and shelter for the Buddha and his followers. It was as if these people knew that in helping the Buddha they were purifying themselves in some way.  Additionally, these people came from all walks of life — all castes, genders, and levels of society. The Buddha’s message was not limited to any a particular segment of society. It  provided a lucid paradigm for the attainment of the ultimate knowledge that any person could employ and strive towards. And even if a person was not ready to commit to the spiritual practice the Buddha taught, it was the idea of helping the Buddha and his followers continue on their journeys that connected the lay person to the Buddha’s message. This interdependence between the practitioner’s need to live and eat in some kind of balanced way and the lay person’s wish to do good in assisting the practitioner reach his goal was the basis for creating the community the Buddha had sought.  This community itself represented a Middle Way. It could not simply be composed of monks and disciples, but instead had to include the lay person. The Buddha expressed this concept of community to his disciples. “Remember that the desirous allegiance to only wanting to attain Enlightenment by yourself and just for yourself is like the man who stubbornly attempts to walk uphill in the face of a mudslide.  You must open yourself to other people even those not traveling on the same path. Through this opening of yourself, you both support and are supported by the other person. As such, you will learn to let go of the self and instead connect with the whole.”  His disciples understood the importance of establishing and maintaining this connection between themselves and the lay people surrounding them. There could be no “us” and “them”.  There had to be a shared experience leading to a  mutually beneficial result for both sides.  The Buddha continued. “The man that stands alone and who has decided to obey only his desire to find truth, may be weak and slip back into his old ways. Therefore, you must stand together, assist each another, and strengthen one another’s efforts. Be like brothers and sisters to your fellow man; one in love, one in holiness, and one in your zeal for the truth.”  On one of the Buddha’s initial travels with his disciples, the Buddha returned to Lumbini where his now 8-year old son approached him and asked for his inheritance. The Buddha who had nothing more than a begging bowl and the robes on his back told his son that his inheritance would be ordination as a monk. And so his son was ordained right then and there and joined the ranks of Buddha’s followers.  Buddha’s father who was still upset with his son could not hold on to his anger for long once he saw the wisdom and spirituality of the Buddha.  He too accepted the Buddha’s teaching.  Only the Buddha’s wife had not come out of her chambers to see the Buddha upon his return to the palace. She had been grieving his departure for many years and had even cut her hair once she had heard about the Buddha’s renunciation. She had been grappling with deep feelings of abandonment mixed with hope that one day he would come back for her and their son.  The Buddha went to her chambers and when he saw her, he immediately understood. The Buddha acknowledged her pain and explained that her devotion to him revealed that she had the highest moral grounding. Further, she had not only been his supporter in this life, but they also had a shared past and that she had saved his life during that previous life. She would become one of first nuns in the Buddha’s order and reached an exalted status due to her memory and knowledge. So, the Buddha’s outreach to his family had resulted in bringing them within his circle and they formed an important part of the initial pillars of the community the Buddha hoped to build. As the Buddha continued his physical wanderings during the next 45 years of his life, the threads of this community became strong and thick. They tied huge swaths of once disparate peoples and cultures together, and they brought together kings and hermits alike.  The Buddha knew that after he passed on, the legacy of his teachings would be intertwined with this community and so if the community disintegrated, then his teachings would likely succumb to the same fate.

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