There's an old hymn, "The Holy Spirit," that some
Christian Protestants sing on Pentecost Sunday. That day this year, in 2017, was
just a little earlier this month, on June 3rd. My wife and I were in the audience that
morning at St. Margaret's Episcopal Church in Palm Desert, CA. The hymn is not
great music, but it has some powerful lyrics. For example: "[The Holy Spirit will
remain with us] ... till earthly passions turn to dust and ashes ... and far
surpasses the power of human telling." Old-fashioned English. But it's message is about true transcendence
of death, and way beyond that.
The word "Pentecost" is derived from the Greek
word for "fifty". As a kid growing
up in a Christian family, I understood that the first Pentecost Sunday marked
the very moment, some two thousand years ago in Jerusalem, fifty days after Easter
(i.e., after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus), that Christianity
as a religion was born. Pentecost is
all about the Holy Spirit showing itself as "flames of fire" and "roaring
wind" to Jesus' mother and brothers, his twelve apostles, and to a motley
crew of about a hundred Jews and non-Jews. The New Testament says this
frightening form of the Holy Spirit actually sat on the heads of this group of first
Christians around 9 o'clock that morning, and made them seem like they were crazy
drunk. (It apparently created more chaos
than Trump's first fifty days.)
In any case, the old "Holy Spirit" hymn is about
the Holy Spirit that is still alive today. Christians who sing it believe that despite
how illogical any description of the Holy Spirit may be, its power will benefit
them even after death. They feel sure they will be transformed after they die
into something better than they were when they were alive. Now, I don't know
about you, but this sounds similar to the recitation of Amida's name in Pure Land
Buddhism. Jodo Shu Nembutsu seems to
work in ways similar to the Christian Holy Spirit. I believe they both promise
a true transcendence of death.
At St. Margaret's on Pentecost, earlier this month, the hymn
was sung at the close of the service.
Before that, scriptures were read and other hymns were sung, the
celebration of Christ's body and blood was shared, and the Rector offered a
short sermon about how the Holy Spirit works.
He said something to the effect that "the Holy Spirit can only blow
into us if we open the window of our hearts." That sounded good. Everyone agreed. But then he said, "However, another
window has to be open in order for the roaring wind to blow out of
us." You could almost hear the
audience muttering, "What the hell is he talking about?" He went on
to explain that people at Pentecost became caretakers of the miraculous power that
Jesus gave to human beings. We have been
in charge of how we live our lives ever since. We have the power to do good
things with that power. The spirit of Christ will enter us if we let it. But we have to let it go to others if we expect
it to be of any use at all. Letting it
out helps us truly respect our families and others as the precious beings they
are. We then see clearly that we are them.
I was born in 1935, one year before Rev. Reikai Nozaki
started the Jodo Shu ministry in America. My life took a direction that most Americans did
not take. It wasn't planned, but I
turned out to be a specialist in East Asian cultural history. Japan, especially, has been a great teacher
for the Webb family. The Christian
narrative of our childhoods, with its long history of great music and art, is
still very much part of who we are. But my study in college of the art and
religions of the world, and especially my study of Japanese history and art,
brought Buddhism very close and made it personal.
My three major professors at Kyoto University insisted that
I train in Zen temples while continuing my studies. (Ironically, those great teachers all came
from Pure Land backgrounds.) The
practice of zazen for fifty years has opened my window to a slightly different
window. But it, too, has an adjoining
window to the world. Rev. Atone and Rev. Tanaka have helped me keep that window
open. There's still plenty of wind blowing through my windows before that final
transcendent death. Let's make sure all of us have our windows open, and show
our children the value of keeping theirs open, too.
(Transcript of lecture prepared for the 80th Anniversary Celebration
of the Jodo Shu Ministry in North America, Los Angeles, CA, in June 2017.)
