MURYOKO
'Infinite Light'
Journal of Shin Buddhism
Harold Stewart
Altruism
The koan is not limited to the Zen monastery, for life itself daily confronts us with just such self-contradictory dilemmas, which are insoluble in their own alternative terms. Should I, or should I not, give the old beggar-woman alms? She poses a living koan, since to tip her seems as bad as not to tip her, whether she is in genuine need or an inveterate professional. The best solution that my vacillating and self-conscious pity can provide is a small donation; because it seems better to have supported a member of that ancient and honourable profession, now almost driven from the streets of Japan by a hard-hearted affluence, than to have missed the opportunity of helping the honestly impoverished, who may well be one of the gods in disguise.
But sufferers are so multitudinous that no effort of mine or even of mankind's can hope to save them all; for our ability to aid is infinitesimal compared with the Infinite Compassion of the Other Power. So this incident reveals the insufficient and unsatisfactory limitations of all philanthropy, no matter how extensive or intense, and whether undertaken by a self-conscious individual altruist or by communal schemes for social welfare. My inconclusive charity, which is a mere palliative and no remedy, contrasts with the boundless and all-embracing benefaction of the Bodhisattva, such as Miroku, the Buddha of the Future. This encounter prompts my realization of the need to be reborn first in the Western Paradise before returning to help other suffering beings, for the helper needs to be able to draw upon the limitless store of Compassion of the Other Power if he would accomplish his aim.
The Western ethos is obsessed with contemporary social and moral problems and with taking action intended for their solution. But this usually has the effect of producing new problems, often of multiplying them, to replace the old that they were intended to remedy. The modern Occidental is committed to changing the world and concerned with righting its wrongs at any cost. But the Traditional Oriental realized that any action by the self, whether individual or collective, can only result in an equal and opposite reaction; for all that we can do is to accumulate more karma, good, indifferent, or bad, that will 'add to the sum of our mortality'. Action and inaction in thought, word, and deed can only hasten the decline of this Final Age, for contemplative non-action alone can renovate us and our world.
There is a passage in the life of the pre-eminent poet-sage of Tibet, Jetsun Milarepa, in which his disciples ask him if they can engage in worldly duties in a small way for the benefit of others; to which he replies: 'If there be not the least self-interest attached to such duties, it is permissible. But such [detachment] is indeed rare; and works performed for the good of others seldom succeed if not wholly free from self-interest. But without seeking to benefit others, it is with difficulty that even works done in one's own interest [or selfishly] are successful. It is as if a man helplessly drowning were to try to save another man in the same predicament. One should not be over-anxious and hasty in setting out to serve others before one has oneself realized the Truth in its fullness'.
That one seldom knows what is in one's own best interest is illustrated by those Grimm tales in which the gods or fairies grant three wishes, two of which turn out to be for the worse of the wisher, who must then use up his third wish unwishing the other two. One should be most cautious about asking the gods for any favour, because sooner or later the plea may be granted - and the gift regretted. As no one really knows what is best for himself, let alone for others whose needs and tastes may well differ from one's own, a missionary zeal for officious and uninvited meddling in the lives of unwilling recipients, imposing on them what seems right for oneself, really betrays a lack of trust in providence for each and all.
Nothing is more self-indulgent than self-denial. But the irresistible appeal of altruism is that it justifies us in censuring and correcting our neighbour's iniquities, yet saves us the trouble and expense of reforming our own. Heaven preserve us from those who love their neighbours as themselves ! Since love without hate is as impossible as north pole without south, if we are commanded to love our neighbour, we are equally committed to hating him. But once it is realized that one has no self to love, it follows that neither has he. So if to love oneself is to embrace an illusion, to love one's neighbour is to compound it. Instead what should be realized is that, although from the Buddha's viewpoint neither we nor our neighbours exist, yet because both of us share in his Buddha-nature, we are our neighbours.
Only the most spontaneous and utterly selfless (but not unselfish and still less self-abnegating) service moved by the Other Power is truly efficacious, so that in the best interests of all sentient beings, the Bodhisattva is not a doer of good deeds but an expert exponent of wu wei, influencing others only by his actionless action-of-presence. He is not an indiscriminate humanitarian motivated by self-power but an adept at dana-paramita, the Perfection of Giving, which he accomplishes by radiating his Enlightenment impartially and by being the Exemplar of universal friendliness. If there is the slightest trace of self-consciousness in doing good, from the Mahayana Buddhist viewpoint Compassion is tainted with egoism, and not only does it lose its spiritual quality and value for both giver and receiver but in the long run may prove to be positively harmful. The Perfection of Giving is then degraded into mere charity, and nothing is more resented and contemned by the recipient, who rightly feels that such sedatives to conscience are basically selfish and cold-hearted.
Above all the donor must beware of indulging the 'greed of giving' and should counteract it by cultivating the art of receiving graciously. It is the giver who ought to feel grateful and sufficiently rewarded if his aid does not turn out too disastrously or his victim is not affronted by such infringement of his privacy and independence. As Chuang-tzu complained of Confucian government by the civil service of his day: 'There is, after all, such a thing as leaving people alone!' So a religion should not be judged on its moral and social usefulness, an idea to which clings an unpleasant odour of the twentieth century. Buddhism regards all charitable works as having no value and earning no merit for the doer, else they would provide only one more subtle pretext for inflating egotistical pride and conceit. One should recall the well-known interview between Bodhidharma and the Emperor Wu of the Liang dynasty, who boasted of his benefactions to Buddhism and then enquired what merit he had gained thereby, only to be rebuked by Bodhidharma with the retort direct: 'None whatsoever, Your Majesty !