Another Religion Theme

I want to continue this series of bits from my scholarship with a few excerpts that happen to discuss Buddhism (in one case, mostly as a quick stop on the way to Confucianism).

I hasten to point out not only that, being the person I am from the place I grew up in the years I grew up there, my inner sympathy with Buddhist or Confucian thought is a matter of intentional cultivation–cultivation that had just barely begun in the Fall of my senior year as an undergraduate.  I can tell you from a later vantage that half of my generalizations about Buddhism in this early paper are pretty inaccurate, though in a few relevant details they come close to making the point I intend.

Here, then, my undergraduate paper from Dr. Morley’s World Religions class:

THE VIRTUOUS SELF IN BUDDHISM AND CONFUCIANISM:
A COMPARISON IN CHRISTIAN PERSPECTIVE
A Research Paper
Presented to
Dr. Brian Morley
In Partial Fulfillment
Of the Requirements of
World Religions (BMS 385)
December 2, 1998

The Western mind often conceives of all Eastern thought as a homogenous whole on the model of Hinduism and Buddhism. It is not, however, always so; a number of differing strains of Eastern thought may be contrasted to the Hindu/Buddhist mysticism. Among these variant movements, Confucianism stands in sharp relief against Buddhism; the Confucian concept of the ruler who wishes to “illustrate illustrious virtue throughout the kingdom” by encouraging bonds of filial and national piety is utterly antithetical to the Buddhist search for freedom by non-attachment. The Christian will recognize in the altruistic, public ethic of the Confucian a resemblance to the ethics of the Old Testament Scriptures and of Christ.

In the Buddhist view, the human self is illusion; the notion of self-existence is the barrier to understanding of the truth. Only by learning to reject the illusion of selfhood can a man begin to live in such a way as to become conscious only of truth; by being conscious only of truth, that man escapes samsara, the continuing cycle of death and rebirth occasioned by the karmic effects of desire.

Learn to distinguish between Self and Truth. Self is the cause of selfishness and the source of evil; truth cleaves to no self; it is universal and leads to justice and righteousness. Self, that which seems to those who love their self as their being, is not the eternal, the everlasting, the imperishable. Seek not self, but seek the truth (World Library).

The relationship between right action and self in Buddhism is antagonistic; only by learning to negate self does one achieve “justice and righteousness” which lead to non-attachment and, ultimately, to freedom. As Janwillem van de Wettering says,

Buddhism is negative. It will tell you what it is not. When you insist that it must be something it merely allows for an open space, which you can fill in as you like. It is only specific about its method (Comstock 160).

Because of this negativity, Buddhism in practice resolves into either a basic anti-rationalism coupled with various superstitions or a basic rule-based merit system. In either case, its primary ethical focus is on method; and despite appeals to compassion, it remains that compassion is a part of the method to achieve a given end, which is personal freedom. This internal tension–the desire for a compassionate, ethical life in a metaphysical system which must negate compassion itself–is one of the greatest vulnerabilities of Buddhist thought.

In stark contrast is the Confucian emphasis, which begins with the desire to cause moral excellence to abound:

The ancients who wished to illustrate illustrious virtue throughout the kingdom, first ordered well their own states. Wishing to order well their states, they first regulated their families. Wishing to regulate their families, they first cultivated their persons. Wishing to cultivate their persons, they first rectified their hearts. Wishing to rectify their hearts, they first sought to be sincere in their thoughts. Wishing to be sincere in their thoughts, they first extended to the utmost their knowledge. Such extension of knowledge lay in the investigation of things (World Library).

Here the end to be achieved is not escape from the world of existence, but an abundance of virtue within it. The accomplishment of virtue begins with a virtuous ruler who knows that public virtue begins with private cultivation of right thoughts. Here Buddhism and Confucianism briefly meet: both agree that private knowledge of truth is the starting point; but where Buddhism seeks truth in negation, Confucianism seeks truth in “the investigation of things.” Where Buddhism sees self as the enemy of truth, Confucianism sees truth as an understanding of the self and of others which leads to sincerity and right relationships.

This concept of right relationships by self-knowledge and cultivation of virtue is reinforced throughout Confucian writings; it forms “the root” of Confucian ethics. Not only is it the ruler’s duty to pursue and exemplify virtue in his personal, family, social and political life, but all must do so together: “From the Son of Heaven down to the mass of the people, all must consider the cultivation of the person the root of everything besides” (World Library). As a result of this cultivation of the person, men are rightly related to others through all the various social roles they adopt. Referring to the respected ancient King Wan, Confucius notes that

As a sovereign, he rested in benevolence. As a minister, he rested in reverence. As a son, he rested in filial piety. As a father, he rested in kindness. In communication with his subjects, he rested in good faith.
When each knows his own heart, and by investigation understands the hearts of others, he is able to engage in right action. When men are given to understanding, they are able to trust each other; the result is rest, or reverence for the piety which makes for right relationships. The heart of this self-knowledge which makes for right relationships is integrity:
What is meant by “making the thoughts sincere” is the allowing no self-deception, as when we hate a bad smell, and as when we love what is beautiful. This is called self-enjoyment. Therefore, the superior man must be watchful over himself when he is alone.

It is interesting to note that this philosophy makes ethics an aesthetic phenomenon in a way which transcends specific legalities. The man who makes his thoughts sincere is the man who knows himself for what he is and tolerates nothing which is repugnant to his knowledge of the good. In order to carry this beyond the realm of rule-based morality, Confucius invokes the analogy of the “bad smell” which men recoil from and the “beautiful” which men love. This ethic engages the entire man in an effort to create superior moral worth–not simply the negative ethic of commandment-keeping, nor the self-negation of Buddhism or asceticism, but the moral excellence or virtue idealized by the imperial civilizations, by primitive Christianity and by the warrior cultures of Northern and Western Europe. Such an excellence transcends mere physical prowess or mere pristine purity; it is the positive presence of something worthy of admiration, something which ennobles both those who have it and those with sense enough to revere it. The creation of great art, the winning of noble battles, the defense of an honest man’s cause–these are the virtues which all civilizations not degraded by a low view of God’s image in man have sought to exemplify.

The result of this aesthetic ethic is the impulse of the great to “illustrate illustrious virtue” among the peoples of the world. Despite a general optimism, however, Confucius is not silent as regards the evil in man’s heart:

There is no evil to which the mean man, dwelling retired, will not proceed, but when he sees a superior man, he instantly tries to disguise himself, concealing his evil, and displaying what is good. The other beholds him, as if he saw his heart and reins;-of what use is his disguise? This is an instance of the saying -“What truly is within will be manifested without.” Therefore, the superior man must be watchful over himself when he is alone (World Library).

It is in truth not merely a prudent gesture, nor a means to a personal end–in order for public virtue to be worth anything it must be the honest end of private virtue. Confucius here gives elegant form to the old adage, “You can fool some of the people some of the time, and you might even fool most of the people most of the time, but you can’t fool all of the people all of the time”–or, in the words of Scripture, “Be sure your sin will find you out” (Num 32:23). A man’s reputation may in some points deviate from his true character, but those who are discerning will readily discover the discrepancies; and, generally, all men know at a very basic level whether they are seeing an honest man or a deceitful one.

The emphasis on true personal integrity is just one of several points where the Confucian ethical system coincides closely with Scriptural principles. This should not be surprising, however. Confucius, writing circa 500 B.C., never claimed to be original; rather, he was gleaning his knowledge from the ancients, the great rulers of the earth from times now obscured by millenia of conflict and a century of modern historical revisionism. Another great collection of historical wisdom of the ancients can be found in the works of Solomon, who “set [his] mind to seek and explore by wisdom concerning all that has been done under heaven” (Eccl 1:13). In the end, the Preacher attains a simple insight into the basis of all human wisdom: “Fear God and keep His commandments . . . For God will bring every work into judgment, everything which is hidden, whether it is good or evil” (12:13,14). It is this direct theism which is lacking in Confucian thought; yet the basic patterns are the same, implying a common origin. Personal piety on a very basic level becomes the groundwork for right action and right relationships; and the “hidden” or private things will be judged as well as the public.

It is no surprise, then, when Solomon’s method for inculcating these virtues in his people–with a special focus on his own descendants–is similar to that of Confucius. Indeed, in Ecclesiastes Solomon makes clear that he has collated the wisdom of many into his books of sayings:

In addition to being a wise man, the Preacher also taught the people knowledge; and he pondered, searched out and arranged many proverbs. The Preacher sought to find delightful words and to write words of truth correctly.
The words of wise men are like goads, and masters of these collections are like well-driven nails; they are given by one Shepherd (Eccl 12:9-11).

Much of Solomon’s wealth of collected wisdom has been lost to the ages, but one important collection has been preserved in the book of Proverbs. The variety of sources available to Solomon probably included some of the same sources available to Confucius 400 years later; it is tantalizing to consider whether Confucius may have seen Solomon’s writings (as Socrates almost certainly did, having studied Hebrews). It is known that some of Solomon’s proverbs came from others (as, for instance, Agur and King Lemuel); and older copies of virtually identical passages have been found in Egyptian texts.

If one accepts a recent flood, basing ancient chronology as strictly as possible on the Scriptural geneaologies and tables of the nations, then it becomes apparent why each of these collectors of ancient wisdom–and others like them–have such similar thoughts. Not only are these transcendent human ideals; they are also the core elements of a literature which was ancient even in the days of Confucius, Buddha and Socrates. The wise men, patriarchs and rulers of the second and third millennia B.C. would be to Confucius or Solomon as Plato or Aristotle or Cicero are to modern man, only greater. Not only were these ancients of the ancients great thinkers of past days, but they were the very founders of all the world’s civilization: they were the progenitors of all the races, inventors of languages, makers of laws and writers of songs for all peoples. In the post-diluvian patriarchs the earth’s kingdoms were at their fullest and most glorious; only the great apostasy of Babel prevented their creating the golden age of all humanity. Even so, men seeking the original truth which preceded the darkness which those who “illustrate illustrious virtue” wished to dispel would inevitably turn to the writings of those who had known that truth, and to their successors. It is the very similarities between the ancient writers which best confirms the constant presence of God’s revelation, even where the Bible preserves only a skeleton outline of things long past.

Confucian teaching and Solomon’s proverbs are quite congenial in many ways. The teaching on integrity, on the necessity of private virtue to the effective exercise of public virtue, sound very similar to Solomon’s words, when he says, “Watch over your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life. Put away from you a deceitful mouth, and put devious lips far from you” (Prov 4:23,24). In addition, the efficacy of public virtue is attested repeatedly; one well-known example follows:

When the righteous increase, the people rejoice, but when a wicked man rules, people groan. A man who loves wisdom makes his father glad, but he who keeps company with harlots wastes his wealth. The king gives stability to the land by justice, but a man who takes bribes overthrows it . . . The righteous is concerned for the rights of the poor, the wicked does not understand such concern . . . If a ruler pays attention to falsehood, all his ministers become wicked . . . If a king judges the poor with truth, His throne will be established forever . . . Where there is no vision, the people are unrestrained, but happy is he who keeps the law (Prov 29:2-18).