Of all the religions I have studied, I must say that, in my opinion, Islam boasts some of the prettiest music I’ve ever heard. One of my favorite recording artists of 2008 is, hands-down, Zain Bhikha. His spellbinding voice advocating Allah is so pleasing to the soul that words can’t even describe what it feels like just to listen to his songs because his music is so beautiful. One of the reasons why I have gravitated to his songs is that the message behind his lyrics is clear, which is to say that among other things, once we have lived this life and our death is imminent, whatever material things we have accumulated will remain behind, and our journey to what lies beyond this physical existence will begin. This is a message that transcends religion, I know, but the way in which Bhikha sings makes what we all must face not so depressing. I hope you enjoy the embedded videos.
I’m not an expert in religious studies, but I believe Buddhism is one of the few “religious” faiths that recognizes suffering, specifically. From a Buddhist perspective there are several different kinds of manifest suffering. There is the type of suffering that is associated with pain. For example, the product of our skin being cut by a sharp knife is physical pain. The blade slices our flesh; the nerve endings are damaged in the process; and this prompts a chemical reaction to travel to our brains thereby causing other parts of our body to respond. As a result, we do everything in our power to heal the wound in order to stop the unpleasant sensation.
Another form of manifest suffering comes with growing old. As we age, our bodies deteriorate. It’s something every human who lives long enough must experience, and the longer we live, the more our bodies change until ultimately we die. It’s an unfortunate condition of human existence. I once heard one of my older college professors, who was in his 80s at the time, liken aging to a sinking ship. It’s only a matter of time before a ship that has a damaged hull in the middle of the ocean sinks. Not only must the elderly deal with the all the other ailments associated with advanced age such as muscle degeneration, memory loss, and loneliness, but he or she must also cope with the prospects of what happens in the hereafter.
But, in my opinion, the greatest form of manifest suffering—from a Buddhist perspective—comes from attachment such as longing. For example, recently, I overheard a child lament that his father was not going to buy him something called a Playstation Portable (PSP). Initially, I felt pity for the young man because he seemed generally distraught, but as I rationalized what he was going through, it became clear to me that electronic games are fads, nothing more. Given enough time, the child’s delusionary attachment for the object will dissipate. But, unlike physical suffering, which affects parts of the body, longing is a purely mental activity and, in certain situations, is not easy to dismiss.
From my experience, mourning the loss of a loved one has been the hardest thing to either accept or overcome. Here, I’m not only referring to someone who has died, but in the everyday experience of saying goodbye to someone for whom a friendship has been established. For instance, one of the most difficult aspects of my time in the military was saying “so long” to people I had served with. There are several fellows with whom I would do just about anything for because the bond we established while serving our nation became so great. For me, our relationship transcended into something akin to brotherliness. It’s hard to explain, but I’m sure there are other service personnel who understand what I mean. The moment I ended my enlistment was the moment the path with my comrades diverged, and now I haven’t a clue as to where most of them are or what they are doing.
You know, the older I become the more I can feel the pain of the elderly who have not only lost their health and well-being, but who have lost family and friends to death. I know the pain the World War II veterans now must feel because while they won the war against Germany and Japan, they are loosing the war against time. It won’t be long until there are no living veterans of that Great War waged during the 1940s, and my fear is that, while they long to be surrounded by family and friends of a bygone era, many of them will die alone. This is the type of suffering I believe to be the greatest of all human suffering because it’s brutal.
The only solace I can find in all these forms of suffering is that the Buddha teaches that nothing we grasp at or cling to is permanent, not even our present suffering. The pain we feel when we’re cut will cease when our wound heals. Moreover, as soon as a newer video game is on the market, the child’s desire to have the PSP will subside. And finally, if we are granted a full and rewarding life, death is the greatest complement to that existence. Knowing these things makes physical pain and the pains associated with attachment more tolerable.
Recently, I was observing an argument between two of my good friends, Coley and Jefferey. The basis of their disagreement was over the relevance of Jesus and the distinctions between ‘religion’ and ‘spirituality.’ The friendly quarrel between Coley, a Christian, and Jeff, an agnostic, began with Coley saying how blessed he was in his life, with Jeff in turn giving a repugnant response stating that Christ had nothing to do with Coley’s good fortune. The ensuing conversation was an intelligent attempt for each man to dominate the other by using logic to make his own opinion heard.
I will be the first to tell you that I am not an authority on God, but after spending a year studying religion and the quest for meaning with the University of Virginia, I have surmised that the pursuit of faith and spirituality is simply one person’s attempt to find balance. The core principle of any faith is essentially harmony, and, more importantly, to love one another. Jesus is right for those who believe in him as Buddha is right for those who believe in his teachings. Moreover, in my studies, I’ve learned that the divine seems to help only those people who are willing to help themselves.
The best common sense approach, regardless of faith and in my opinion, comes from Matthew 7: 7 – 8 of the New Testament. It reads:
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
Jesus “blessed” Coley only because Coley chose to help himself by taking practical steps to do what needed to be done, rather than just waiting for things to happen to him. By saying, “I am blessed,” this is an expression of humility. It is his way of taking responsibility but without taking the credit.
So, for what it’s worth, this is how I feel; both of their arguments have merit.
