SERMON: Letting Go of the Self

Rev. Tom Capo

Reading:

From Buddhism: A History by Noble Ross Reat

One may say with confidence that the essence of the historical Buddha’s teachings was the four Noble Truths: mundane existence is suffering; desire is the cause of suffering; nirvana, an awakening or enlightenment like that of the Buddha, is the cessation of suffering; and there is a practical method for realizing this awakening. This method is the Noble Eightfold path comprised of right view, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration. No form of Buddhism denies the authenticity of the four noble truths and the eightfold path. The eight-spoked wheel, probably the most universally acknowledged symbol of Buddhism, represents this Eightfold Path.

Prayer/Meditation

The Buddha invited many people to breathe, to breathe as the simplest path to enlightenment. But opening oneself up to breathing, one must also enter each breath without expectation, without trying to find anything.

As I read from the Sutra on Full Awareness of breathing, let us enter into the spirit of prayer or meditation putting aside self and expectation.

Breathing in, you know that you are breathing in, and breathing out, you know that you are breathing out.

May you practice this full awareness of breathing, and as it develops, may you be rewarded and experience great benefit.

So May it Be.

Sermon

A Buddhist approaches a hotdog vendor and says: “Make me one with everything.” He gives the vender a $20 bill and waits. Finally he says: “Where’s my change?” The vendor replies: “All change comes from within.”

This simple joke actually contains two Buddhist teachings: Change comes from within and being one with everything is the goal of existence. As we explore the concept of letting go of the self or the ego, we will find that these teachings are central to our understanding of the “no self.”

What would it be like to empty ourselves of all that makes us who we are and empty ourselves of all we use to describe and categorize our world? What do we think would happen? Well, perhaps the meditation we did today might give us a clue of how difficult that is, and what some of the consequences might be.

What happened when during the Sutra on Full Awareness of breathing? What did you notice? Perhaps you found it hard to focus. Perhaps you noticed that your brain was in constant motion like there was a hive of angry wasps in your head. Perhaps there were times when you wanted to leap right out of your chair and yell “alright already I got it, breathe in and breathe out.” Everyone who practices meditation, even Tibetan monks sitting on rocks in the snowy peaks of the Himalayans, has had the same experience that many of you probably had; they, like you, have a mind in motion, tethered to worldly attachments. They refer to this mind in motion as the monkey--our mind races, makes us impatient, and is cluttered with insignificant details—like where are we going for lunch after church today. See, you are thinking about that aren’t you?

But the people who practice meditation continue their practice in spite of these distractions. They open themselves up to whatever gifts they are given from this process—not expecting anything in particular and certainly not expecting anything that meets their own personal needs. They are opening themselves up to be one with the universe, letting go of the self, that they may gain from that experience. Sometimes they may gain wisdom, sometimes intuitive knowledge, sometimes direction, sometimes peace. Through this discipline of meditation, in whatever form it may take (sitting, walking, eyes open, eyes closed, or whatever) change comes to and from within. Meditation, in the spirit of Buddhism, can aid us in becoming more aware of our connection with the universe.

To be at one with the universe, you must put aside the self and all of our illusory, categorized existence. The Buddha Dharma (teachings) encourages us to notice that our commonplace view of things, our basic, background assumptions about ourselves and about the world, is based on a grand illusion. We are but an accumulation of all our biological sensations and mental processes. We smell banana bread as it comes out of the oven. We feel the warmth of the bread as we pick it up to taste it. We taste the banana pieces soft inside the thick bread. Man I would like some banana bread. We have within us millions if not billions of these accumulated sensations. And each of these is transitory—passing quickly onto the next experience. As we accumulate these we develop a sense that we are separate from these experiences, thus a sense of self begins, I think therefore I am, I categorize therefore I am.

The mantra of the self that we develop is, “Its all about me.” The footprint of the self is “My way is the only way.” The self, by nature, will adopt any belief as an identity. Then it is fearful when faced with other beliefs. It feels threatened. There is no love in the self and the path to God/enlightenment/nirvana is love - not a belief. The self must always imagine that it is the center of the universe. Thus, “My way is the only way” comes into being and, by extension, everything with which the self is associated. The self is, shall we say it, self-centered. The self grows and develops with each experience we have.

And as we accumulate these experiences, we develop a sense that we need these accumulated sensations to categorize our world in order to survive; we know that any animal which can't distinguish between self and others wouldn't survive for any length of time. When we were children and stuck a fork into a light socket, we generally learned not to repeat that. But most experiences are really not that life threatening. Yet we still associate that survival instinct with certain experiences—like if my paycheck doesn’t get into my bank account today, I am going to die; really you probably won’t, unless you lend money to a loan shark and he/she, let's be inclusive, will fit you with cement shoes if you wrote a hot check. Most often, we learn more subtle lessons that will enhance our lives, but are not really about survival.

As we accumulate life experiences, we also develop desires to repeat some of them, particularly the banana bread experiences, ummmmmm. Many times, it is the desire for these experiences that is more powerful and controlling than actually fulfilling the desire. As Mr. Spock from the original Star Trek said: “You may find that having is not so pleasing a thing as wanting. This is not logical but it is often true.” Let’s say you want a new computer game. Like my son, who has written on his arm the dates for three weeks leading up to the release of a new game—Puyo Pop Fever--for his Nintendo DS. He erases from his arm each date which passes, knowing he is getting increasing close to the day when the game will be his. Invariably, he will get the game, play it briefly, then start looking for the next new hot game that he must have.

And we have to ask why Buddha thought that attachment/desire were the root of all suffering. The real world never really lives up to the idealist desires that we have for it. There is no computer game that will live up to our expectations. There is no job that can meet all of our needs with pay to match. There is no spouse who can be everything to us, not dissing any spouses out there. When we look at the world from an idealistic standpoint, nothing is really all that great.

We can’t get rid ourselves of our desires or our idealism completely; that’s impossible. Trying to stop having desires just makes us have more. Sort of like, don’t think about chocolate chip cookies. The more we try to suppress the thought of wanting a hot chocolate chip cookie, the stronger it gets, and we might even find ourselves wanting more—dark Godiva chocolate or semi-sweet chocolate mouse with whipped cream. Yes, I sort of like food. But we can take action in the present to manage our desires, through right thinking, right behavior; you know the eight-fold path.

One example of how to manage these desire is this: let’s say you desire a Jaguar, but you’ve got a Chevy Chevette—a car I had many years ago that vibrated so hard that I got tennis elbow from driving it. When you want to go to the supermarket, what makes more sense, sitting home and wishing you had a Jag or getting in your tiny vibrating tin can of a car—I think I still have some resentments about this car--and actually driving to the store. If you have desires, leave them as they are and do what needs to be done. Ultimately the eightfold path is reality itself, to act in accordance with reality.

And as we live in reality, we meditate to help us stay focused on the present, and on our connection to the universe. This connection with the universe can help us manage our desires and work for the betterment of all creation.

The universe is so much bigger than any small desire. And when we feel a part of the universe, we can experience that the sky is me; the stars are too. The chirping cricket, the sparkling rivers, snow and rain, distant solar systems, and whatever beings may live out there. It is all me and all you. “It’s like the scene in David Cronenberg’s movie The Fly. Having subjected himself to a scientific experiment involving teleportation, Professor Brundle, played in this version by Jeff Godblum, gets his molecular structure combined with that of a fly that gets into the machinery. Brundle becomes progressively more and more fly-like, both physically and mentally. As he comes to terms with this, even begins to revel in it, he starts referring to himself as ‘Brundlefly.’ He understands the two—fly and Brundle—are really one, but language can’t handle that concept. Same deal here. It’s not “you” and “the universe.” It’s “universeyou.”

This understanding opens us up to intuitive loving acts. Intuition is right thinking—thinking with both body and mind, open and present-centered. We act in ways to aid all creation in the spirit of love. This love asks, “How may I serve you?” This love is a feeling of unity with others. This love does not seek to possess but only to give.

And we act through love without trying to assess the worth of our actions. People can get so caught up in what loving act is more worthy than other loving acts. For instance, is it more worthy to help feeding homeless asexual crack addicts to baby whales, or whatever the popular charity is, as opposed to helping your mother clean the dead squirrel out of her gutters? We get into trouble when we try to gauge the worth of our actions. It’s not that the worthy causes are not worth pursuing, it's that too often our image of worthy causes completely obscures the stuff right under our noses, right here, right now. So we are called to loving action in the present to aid those we can, without consideration for the worth of the action.

Some might say that Buddhism doesn’t teach morality; there are no ten commandments. But it is deeply moral. When you open yourself up to the universe, you can see that you are more likely to act in ways to help others and all creation. Whether working for a worldly causes or just helping out your mother.

If we want to change the world, according to Buddhism, we have to start with ourselves. We have to look at our own action right here and right now. We are the only one who can ever change. Your opinion, your beliefs, your traditions, the habits you picked up from your family and your culture, they’re all of no value at all when it comes to true morality. It is opening yourself up to the universe and acting in the spirit of love that is true morality.

Finally, we come to Nirvana, and I don’t mean Kurt Cobain’s band. Nirvana means cessation or extinction, as in cessation of desire, though in the real world this cessation of desire is often transient. So Nirvana isn’t about bliss. Nirvana is a kind of goal of Buddhist practice, the practice of right view, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration. In other words, being present-centered, loving in spirit, and managing our desires, as we open ourselves up to be one with the universe.

Buddha advocated individual effort, plain language and simple means. His approach emphasizes direct experience rather than relying on priests or theology. In his vision, all people were equal and equally capable of spiritual development. I think we are all capable of Buddhist practice. We are all capable of changing from within. We are all capable of managing our desires. We are all capable of relying on intuition. We are all capable of opening up to the universe, and loving all creation.

As Buddhist Digha Nikaya writes: “Putting down all barriers, let your mind be full of love. Let it pervade the quarters of the world so the whole world wide above, below, and around is pervaded with love. Let it be sublime and beyond measure so that it abounds everywhere.” So may it be. So may we be.