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by M. O'C. Walshe
The Great Unmentionable
(Note: It is still often thought today that any form of
belief in an afterlife is
"unscientific." To disarm any
criticisms on that score, readers are referred to the Appendix
in which the question is briefly treated.)
It is sometimes said that Death today has replaced Sex as
"The Great Unmentionable," and certainly it is, for most
people, an uncomfortable subject which they do not care to think
about overmuch. Yet if there is one thing that is certain in life it
is that we shall all die, sooner or later. There was once a creed
which declared: "Millions Now Living Will Never Die," and
it had great appeal — but all those who first heard it proclaimed
are now dead. So we all have to face death, whether we like it or
not. And we all know it, however we may try to forget the fact. Let
us, then, at least for a while, stop trying to forget it and
look death straight in the face. It is, of course, perfectly true
that we can be too preoccupied with death. There are those
who are eaten up with fear of death so that they hardly have any
energy or zest for living, and there are some for whom mortality and
all its accompaniments and trappings have a peculiar fascination.
Facing death realistically does not mean being obsessed by it. Here,
as in other respects, Buddhism teaches a Middle Way. For those who
have an unhealthy preoccupation with the subject, it can teach a
saner and more balanced concern; for those who seek at all costs to
avoid thinking about it, it can likewise show a reasonable approach.
Fear of death is an unwholesome state of mind, and for this, as for
other unwholesome states of mind, Buddhism can show a remedy. In the
West today, there are many different attitudes to death and a large
number of people are probably quite bewildered by it, not knowing
what to believe. But two main ones predominate: the Traditional
Christian view and the Modern Secular view. The Traditional
Christian view (which has many variations of detail) asserts the
reality of an after-life, which the Modern Secular view denies or at
the very least calls strongly into question.
The Traditional Christian View
This asserts that man has an immortal soul, created by God. After
death a man will, in some shape or form, receive the reward or
punishment for his deeds on earth. In short, the good will go to
heaven and the wicked to hell. Heaven and hell are everlasting. Of
course, many Christians — even fairly "traditional" ones
— are more or less uneasy about this, especially about the
eternity of hell, but this doctrine is still taught by many Churches
in some form, with whatever loopholes or reservations. It should
also be noted that on this view only man has an "immortal
soul," and that (non-human) "animals" simply perish
at death. A few Christians, especially in England, dislike this and
hope to be reunited with their pets in another world. Inquiry would
probably show that this is a genuine stumbling-block for more people
than might have been supposed.
The Modern Secular View
According to this view, which usually claims to be
"scientific," man is just another animal and, like the
animals in the Christian view, simply perishes totally at physical
death. This could actually be in part an unrecognized heritage from
Christian thinking. The Christian says: "Animals have no
souls." The Secularist caps this by saying: "Man is an
animal, therefore he has no soul." Modern biology,
medical science, psychology and so on tend markedly (whether quite
explicitly or not) to take this view for granted. As has been stated
and will be shown, the "scientific" basis for this
attitude is at the very least, highly questionable. But its
exponents are often people enjoying considerable prestige and are
widely listened to by those who do not feel able to form an
independent opinion on this subject.
The Buddhist Attitude
The Buddhist attitude to both of these types of view is that they
are extremes, neither of which is in fact true. The first
type of view is called in Buddhism "the heresy of eternalism"
(sassatavaada), while the second is called "the heresy
of annihilationism" (ucchedavaada). They both in fact
miss the point.
What actually happens according to Buddhism can only be clearly
understood if we have some acquaintance with the Buddhist view of
the general nature of man. But before considering this (as far as it
is relevant to our subject), it may be as well to observe how the
Buddhist view can be misinterpreted. If we say, for instance, that
in the Buddhist view man is not distinguished from animals by the
possession of an "immortal soul," then this looks very
like the Modern Secular position. If, on the other hand, it is
pointed out that according to Buddhism we reap the rewards and
penalties, after death, for our actions in this life, then this
looks rather like the Traditional Christian view. If both
propositions are stated to be correct, the result looks like a
contradiction, though in fact it is not. These misapprehensions
about Buddhism result from failure to realize the kind of
"optical illusion" which occurs when a middle position is
viewed from one of the extremes. If an island is exactly in the
middle of a river then from either bank it looks closer to the
opposite bank than to the observer. Only an observer on the island
can see that it is equidistant. Viewed from the extreme left, any
middle position looks much further to the right than it is, and vice
versa. The same phenomenon is commonly observable in politics and
other walks of life.
In this case, the true Buddhist view is that the impersonal
stream of consciousness flows on — impelled by ignorance and
craving — from life to life. Though the process is impersonal, the
illusion of personality continues as it does in this life.
In terms of Absolute Truth, there is no "immortal soul"
that manifests in a succession of bodies, but in terms of the
relative truth by which we are normally guided, there is a
"being" that is reborn. In order to gain Enlightenment, it
is necessary to come to a realization of the situation as it is
according to absolute truth; in order to face and begin to
understand the problem of death we can, in the first instance, view
it in terms of that "relative truth" which normally rules
our lives and which has its validity in its own sphere. We need
merely, for the present, to remind ourselves that this is but a
"provisional" view of things. In this connection, too, we
have to observe that we are dealing only with the question of death
as it affects the ordinary person, not one who has attained
Enlightenment.
We may therefore say that Buddhism, rejecting Annihilationism
outright, partly agrees with the Eternalists, to the extent of
accepting a form of Survival, without, for the moment, considering
the differences further.
Implications of "Survivalism" and "Annihilationism"
It makes a considerable difference to our outlook on life,
whether we believe in any form of survival or not. Those who
entirely reject the idea of survival inevitably concentrate all
their ambitions and hopes, for themselves and others, on this single
life on earth. This life, they feel, is all they have and for them
the only reasonable goal can be the achievement of some kind
of mundane satisfaction or contentment in this world — all else
being meaningless. The precise implications of such an attitude will
depend greatly on a person's character. The idealist may devote
himself to all kinds of plans for bettering the human condition. It
is claimed, and not without some justice, that this view of things
has led to a great many social improvements. Nevertheless, if we
look at the whole picture, it may be doubted whether all the
social consequences of a purely "this-worldly" view have
been beneficial. And even the idealist must admit that his hopes are
strictly limited, not only for himself but for the race itself which
will inevitably die out one day, possibly hastened to its end by
man's own wicked folly or even his incompetent attempts to
"control nature." Furthermore, those who are less
idealistically inclined may tend to regard this
"one-life-only" theory as an excuse for enjoying
themselves as selfishly as they like while they have the chance,
with no fear of any post-mortem retribution.
In addition, there are very many people who are more or less (in
some cases greatly) tormented by the fear of utter extinction at
death. To point out that this is illogical is useless. For many
such, fear of cancer or other fatal diseases, or war and other
disasters, is not made any easier to bear because they see no future
for themselves beyond the grave. Those who preach the "we have
only one life" gospel too enthusiastically may forget in their
zeal for good causes the serious psychological harm such talk can
do.
Fear of death is not, of course, confined to those who do not
believe in an after-life. It is in fact universal. "In that
sleep of death what dreams may come" is a thought that has
given pause to many besides Hamlet, and in the past many have gone
terrified of hell-fire — and some still do. Probably, however,
most believers or would-be believers in survival today settle in
fact for something vaguely comforting, a trifle wishful, and with
few clearly envisaged details.
It should be noted that lack of belief in survival is not
entirely incompatible with a religious attitude, though probably
most sincere believers in all religions have some such faith,
however vague. The Jewish religion, for instance, has little to say
on an after-life (though this is not denied), and probably many
orthodox Jews have little or no faith in one. This is partly due to
the reticence of most of the Hebrew Bible (known to Christians as
the Old Testament) on the subject, and in this connection the
well-known concern of Jews with their race and its continuance is
significant — as in the case of the secularists noted above. The
relation, of course, is an inverse one: the Jew, concerned with
racial survival, thinks little about personal survival. The
secularist, rejecting personal survival, pins his hopes on that of
the race. The concern of many Christian churchmen with social
problems today often goes together with a marked reticence on the
subject of survival, and occasionally even with a degree of open
skepticism. In some cases this looks like a scarcely-veiled
capitulation to the dominant materialistic outlook of the present
age.
Of course there are many who believe — rightly or wrongly —
that they can get in touch with the departed. Mediums who claim to
be able to do this are numerous, and while some (it is impossible to
say how many) are fraudulent, and some others are self-deluded, it
would be unwise in the extreme to suppose that this is always the
case. Genuine clairvoyants, spiritual healers and other such
specially gifted people unquestionably exist, as anyone who is
prepared to undertake an impartial investigation can readily
discover. But in the public mind such people tend still (though
perhaps rather less than formerly) to be dismissed en masse
as fraudulent or at best cranky. Those who consult them often do so
surreptitiously, guarding the fact from their friends as a guilty
secret they would be ashamed to divulge. While excessive concern
with such matters is not necessarily a good thing, the loudly voiced
scornful skepticism of many materialistic-minded people is simply an
inadequate response to something of which they are woeful —
sometimes even culpably — ignorant.
Repression
Since in fact a fear of death is deep-rooted in everybody, the
propagation of an attitude of total skepticism can do much harm.
Even a great psychologist like the late Dr. Ernest Jones, the
biographer of Freud, considered it necessary to declare that it was
important to eliminate from one's mind all belief in an after-life.
Now if, in fact, it could somehow be finally proved (which it
cannot) that there is no such thing, and if further it were possible
through psycho-analysis or some such methods to get rid of all fear
of extinction, this might be a good thing. But since these premises
cannot be substantiated, the claim falls to the ground. The fact is
that orthodox psycho-analysis was able to find out a great deal
about the problem of sex, with which it was largely (though not
entirely) able to cope. But it had not and has not the equipment to
adequately deal with the problem of death. What Dr. Jones (Freudian
though he was) failed to see is that the only result of such an
attempt can be repression! Repression may be briefly defined as
"the active process of keeping out and ejecting, banishing from
consciousness, the ideas and impulses that are unacceptable to
it."1
We can call it successful self-deception. Its deleterious effects on
the psyche are well-known, thanks above all to the work of Sigmund
Freud and his followers. In this case it means that we deceive
ourselves into believing that we are not afraid of death — and in
fact very many people do this. Buddhism is actually an even better
and more radical method of dealing with one's repression's than
psycho-analysis, and it is often a hard task to convince people that
they have in fact not "transcended," but merely repressed
their fear of death! The reader is earnestly advised at this point
to consider seriously the possibility that he or she has done just
this, bearing in mind that in the nature of things an immediate
negative reaction proves nothing! If in fact there is any
instinctive tendency to shy away from the whole subject, the answer
is actually obvious, though it may be hard to accept. This is due
not only to the fear itself but to conceit — the belief that one
is "advanced."
Consequences
The consequences of a definite denial of the possibility of
survival (so highly praised by Dr. Jones) are the persistence of the
fear of death, in either an overt or repressed form. Either way
there is a distortion of the psyche with resultant suffering,
whatever the exact form it may take. Since such an attitude of
denial is very widespread in many parts of the world today (and even
officially prescribed in some places), these deleterious effects, on
a very wide scale, are quite inevitable. In passing, in may be
presumed that if in fact there were no survival, we would not have
this built-in fear of death.
In present circumstances, the man who thinks, or wants to think
otherwise, is in something of a dilemma. Assuming that he is not a
psychic or drawn to spiritualism or the like, nor on the other hand
an orthodox believer in one of the traditional faiths, he is
probably plagued by doubts and has at best only a hazy notion of
what it is he "believes." He may indulge in many fanciful
speculations. It is not at all clear to him on what basis he can
judge of the possibly validity of these ideas. Under the impact of
his surroundings, his belief, vague though it may be but perhaps
based on some genuine intuition, is liable to be weak and fail him
in times of crisis. In such a case, a resolute dismissal of all such
ideas as "wishful thinking" may for the time being even
bring a sense of relief (especially where his thoughts of the
hereafter tend to arouse exaggerated fears of some awful
retribution). All this must be admitted, and it is presumably for
just such reasons that thinkers like Dr. Jones advocate the course
they do. In fact, of course, it does not solve the real problem.
The social and personal drawbacks of the "Jonesian
solution" do not end there. This negative attitude is the
outcome of a materialistic view of the world which — though it is
still held by many scientists — is in fact outmoded. Being in
essence materialistic, it tends also to reduce our respect for human
life. The traditional Christian view that "animals have no
souls" is in fact semi-materialistic in this sense. Those who
think that man is a special case tend all too easily to take the
view (for which, unfortunately, there is Biblical support) that
animals are totally subservient to him and can be treated as of no
account — hence factory-farming and many other such horrors. The
true materialist goes a step further and regards man himself as an
"animal" in this sense. The extreme consequences of a
radical application of this idea can be witnessed in many places at
this day, and are often utterly appalling. But even when tempered
with "liberal humanism" they can be pretty bad. Power over
life and death is given to the medical profession and others to a
degree which is sometimes quite irresponsible. Transplant surgery,
to take an example, is based on a view of death which is entirely
unethical by traditional standards, apart altogether from any
"religious" considerations, and similar objections apply
to demands for virtually indiscriminate abortion.
Death and the Buddhist
What, then, should be a truly Buddhist attitude towards death?
Let us first note that in traditional Christianity, as for instance
in the Roman Catholic Church (which has more wisdom — despite all
reservations that may be made — than it is often given credit
for!), great attention is paid to the dying. Special rites are
performed, and every effort is made to help the dying person to pass
on in what is considered to be a right frame of mind. To those with
no belief in a hereafter, all such things are meaningless. To
Buddhists and other non-Catholic "survivalists," they may
be open to certain criticisms, but the principle is wholly
admirable. In Tibetan Buddhism especially, there are observances of
a very similar nature, while in Theravada countries it is part of
the duties of a vipassanaa bhikkhu to assist the dying. Of
course, the frame of mind in which a Buddhist should die is not
quite the same as that expected of an adherent of a theistic
religion. But at least it is better to try to give the dying such
understanding as one can, than to drug them into unconsciousness as
an almost routine measure. That way they will pass on to another
existence in much the same state of blindness and confusion with
which they have gone through this life. Let us note once again that
such considerations can only be rejected as quite valueless if we
are perfectly certain that there is no form of after-life —
and even on that basis it might be very cruel to deprive many of the
dying people of such comfort. Therefore the suggestion made in the
humanist circles that hospital chaplains should be abolished can
only be characterized as downright wicked. Some such chaplains may
be pretty useless, but the majority can give the sick and dying at
least some comfort. Ideally, of course, they should all be
highly-trained bhikkhus!
However, when one is actually dying it is a bit late to begin
thinking seriously about death. We should familiarize ourselves with
the thought long before we hope it will happen! And besides, even
for the young and strong, it can still come with unexpected
suddenness. Mors certa — hora incerta, "Death is
certain — the hour is uncertain." To bear this in mind is for
the Buddhist an important aspect of Right Understanding. And
therefore the Buddhist practice of Meditation on Death — not very
popular in the West — should be encouraged. Death for the Buddhist
is not indeed the absolute end — but it does mean the breaking of
all ties that bind us to our present existence, and therefore, the
more detached we are from this world and its enticements, the more
ready we shall be to die, and, incidentally, the further we shall
get along the path that leads to the Deathless — for this is one
of the names of Nibbaana: amata.m "the Deathless
State." Meanwhile, for those who have not got so far along the
Path, death is inseverable from birth. Existence in the phenomenal
world (sa.msaara) is continual birth-and-death. The one
cannot be understood without the other, and cannot exist without the
other.
We all fear death, but actually we should also fear the rebirth
that follows. In practice, this does not always happen. Fear of
rebirth is less strong than death. This is part of our usual
short-sighted view (for those who do actually believe in rebirth),
and the fact must be faced. Full Enlightenment will only be achieved
when there is the will to transcend all forms of
"rebirth" — even the pleasantest. Though as a first step
then, acceptance of the fact of rebirth may help to overcome the
fear of death, the attachment to rebirth itself must then also be
gradually overcome.
Death-Wish
Though there is a strong fear of death, there is, strangely
enough, also a desire for it. Psycho-analysis has a good deal to say
about this, though it is perhaps not very illuminating. But the fact
remains that many people show suicidal tendencies, or even actually
commit suicide, whatever be the explanation. The Buddha in fact
included this "death-wish" as the third of three kinds of
craving: besides desire for sense-pleasures we find in the formula
of the Second Noble Truth the desire for becoming (bhavata.nhaa)
and the desire for cessation (vibhavata.nhaa). Since life is
by its very nature frustrating, we can never get it on our own
terms, and therefore there is an urge to be quit of the whole
thing. The fallacy, of course, lies in the fact that one cannot just
"step out" so easily, since death by suicide, like any
other death, is followed immediately by rebirth in some plane or
other — quite possibly worse than that which one had left. The
traditional Christian view indeed is that suicide is a mortal sin
— with the implication that it would be a case of "out of the
frying-pan and into the fire." Some psycho-analysts speak —
ignorantly — of the "Nirvana-principle" in connection
with the death-wish. But what we are here dealing with is not in
fact the urge to true liberation, but merely an escape-reaction.
Only if by insight more profound than that of the Freudians, this
revulsion is followed by complete equanimity can it be turned
towards the Supramundane which alone is the goal of Buddhism. This
will not happen spontaneously. It should be noted that the
"death-wish" here referred to is associated in Buddhism
with the "heresy of annihilationism" already mentioned. In
a somewhat aggressive form it can even serve to mask repressed
death-fear. This would seem to explain the vehemence with which
people like Dr. Ernest Jones assert the desirability of their
anti-survivalist views. By way of curiosity, it may be mentioned
that a distinguished biologist has gone on record as declaring that
whether or not we believe in survival is entirely determined by our
genes. This would seem to be pushing determinism pretty far!
Psychology of Survivalism and Anti-Survivalism
It is, of course, easy to suggest that those who believe in some
form of survival are victims of wishful thinking, fantasy, and the
like. And in many cases there is a good deal of truth in the
allegation. But what is less often realized is the fact that the
opposite situation also exists. As has been indicated, quite a
number of cases can be found of a curiously fanatical and intolerant
belief in "death as the end." That this attitude masks a
repressed death-fear has been suggested above. It also betrays a
measure of conceit: by adopting it one appears
"scientific," "realistic," "tough,"
and so on. It may even to some extent be an assertion of one's
masculinity (disbelief in "old wives' tales," etc.). The
fact that more women than men are churchgoers may be partly due to
the fact that women in general feel less urge than men to put on
this particular "act" (they have others!).
Apart from these factors, this attitude also, curiously enough,
gives a certain sense of "security." One has made up one's
mind on that particular question and can now dismiss it, and turn to
other things. This enables the scientist — and the politician —
to make "realistic" decisions without reference to
traditional objections. Also, by excluding one whole branch of
phenomena from the need for investigation, it helps to make our
scientific knowledge more "neat and tidy." Unfortunately
for this type of view, however, there is a whole field of knowledge
which runs directly counter to any smug mechanistic-materialistic
view of the world. A wide variety of paranormal phenomena — some
with direct relevance to the question of survival — are so well
attested that to brush them aside is a trifle difficult. Some
scientists contrive to ignore the whole lot and just go on behaving
as if there were "nothing there." A few — but a growing
minority — investigate, and as a result are convinced that there
is at least something "there," however you may
explain it. Others can do neither of these things, that is, they can
neither ignore the whole lot nor investigate with genuine
objectivity. They therefore set themselves up as
"debunkers." They set out to "expose" or
"disprove" whatever they disapprove of.
The assumption is in effect that since, admittedly and obviously,
there are some fraudulent mediums and so on, therefore all
such people are fraudulent or at any rate deluded. Quite a number of
books and articles have appeared in recent years, assiduously
"debunking" various classical cases of paranormal
phenomena. But genuinely impartial investigation frequently shows
that, whatever may have the been the weaknesses in the reporting of
these cases, the debunkers have in fact gone widely beyond all
reasonable criticism and have sometimes themselves been —
unconsciously no doubt — quite unscrupulous. The well-known case
of "Bridey Murphey" a few years ago illustrates this. Some
very confident "debunking" of this story turned out on
further investigation to be quite wide of the mark. One book on
hypnotism, too, pours scorn on attempts to recall past lives by this
method. The author calls these "a hunk of junk" (note the
emotive language), and clearly implies deliberate fraudulent
suggestion by the hypnotist — a suggestion which is not only
ridiculous but libelous. And the present writer once a heard a very
intelligent lady psychologist say: "I'd rather believe anything
than accept precognition: it would upset my entire scientific
conception of the universe!" Perhaps one can even sympathize a
little with this lady; nevertheless since precognition, however
mysterious, is a well-attested fact, it is up to her to revise her
conception of the universe. She did, however, neatly phrase the
dilemma in which a lot of scientifically trained people find
themselves today.
In view of all this, it is important to be aware of the
psychological motives which may underlie different attitudes to this
whole problem — not only in others but in oneself. While excessive
credulity and uncritical dabbling in the occult is to be deplored
(and has its own serious dangers), the opposite extreme of total
rejection should also be treated with more suspicion and reserve
than it often gets.
Spiritualism and the Occult
While Buddhism certainly does not encourage too much
preoccupation with these matters, it does not of course deny the
existence of various classes of "discarnate" beings. They
dwell in various realms and on various planes, some higher and
happier than this world, others, such as the so-called "hungry
ghosts" (petas), more miserable. They are relatively
real — i.e., no less "real" than we ourselves in this
world. They all, without exception, belong to the realm of sa.msaara
or "birth-and-death," and their stay in any of the realms
they inhabit is therefore temporary, though in some cases it may be
fantastically long-lasting by human standards. There is no
contradiction here with the idea of rebirth on earth, since the
realm one is born in depends on one's kamma, the human
condition being only one of the various possibilities (though a
specifically important one, since Enlightenment from any other realm
is held to be virtually impossible). Therefore, human rebirth is
considered to be as desirable as it is rare — a precious
opportunity which it is a folly to waste. It is also stated in the
scriptures that man has a "mind-made body, complete in all its
parts," which would seem to correspond to the
"astral" or "etheric" body referred to by
occultists.
Responsible occultists — of whom there are many — are
themselves, of course, thoroughly well aware of the dangers of
incautious involvement with these matters, which they often stress.
The inhabitants of the various realms are not enlightened
beings, and while some are undoubtedly much wiser and more advanced
than the average human, others are not, and can even exert a
definitely malevolent power.
It is not in the province of Buddhist monks to practice any of
the occult arts — it is in fact forbidden them in terms —
although it is not infrequently done in the East. Western Buddhists
should actually also not concern themselves with such matters. If
they nevertheless do so (as many will, whatever is said to the
contrary), they should at least be extremely careful to consult only
responsible and conscientious practitioners, with a high moral
standard. Such people are not hard to find, and are often very fine
characters. But it should always be borne in mind that even quite
genuine messages from the departed can be misleading, since they are
still, in varying degrees, ignorant. For this reason, too, the
well-known triviality of so many "spirit" messages proves
nothing about their genuineness.
The beings of higher worlds are known in Buddhism as devas,
and it seems certain that many of them are truly concerned to help
mankind as far as lies in their power. It might even be suggested
that there is perhaps no essential difference between the higher
devas and the bodhisattvas of the Mahaayaana tradition.
Some people are naturally psychic, and some even develop psychic
powers as a result, or by-product, of meditation. Such powers are
perfectly real, but should not be sought after or clung to, if
attained. If they are gained without sufficient insight or moral
purification, they can be disastrous. It is another of the many
illusions of the modern liberal humanist that such things as
"witchcraft" do not exist. Righteous indignation at the
cruel treatment of real or alleged witches in the past should not
lead us to imagine that the whole thing was completely mythical. So
we should be very wary of seeking contact with the psychic planes,
not because they do not exist (if that were the case, comparatively
little harm would be done), but because they do.
What is Death?
We now come to the Buddhist definition of death. According to the
Ven. Nyanatiloka,2
it is ordinarily called "the disappearance of the vital faculty
confined to a single life-time, and therewith of the psycho-physical
life-process conventionally called 'Man, Animal, Personality, Ego'
etc. Strictly speaking, however, death is the continually repeated
dissolution and vanishing of each momentary physical-mental
combination, and thus it takes place every moment."
This definition is very important. Each moment (i.e., millions of
times a second) "I" die and "I" am reborn, in
other words, a new "I" takes over from the old which has
vanished forever. At the end of "my" physical life there
is at the same time a severing of the link between this mental
process and the body, which quickly decays in consequence. But
rebirth in exactly the same way is instantaneous in some sphere,
whether as conception in a fresh womb or elsewhere.
Death, then, except in the case of the arahant (to which we shall
briefly refer), is in the Buddhist view inseparable from rebirth.
But two kinds of rebirth are distinguished: rebirth from life to
life, and rebirth from moment to moment, as indicated in the above
definition. Some people today maintain that the Buddha taught only
the latter. This is nonsense. There are many hundreds of references
to rebirth throughout the Buddhist scriptures of all schools, and
they cannot be simply explained away as either "symbolic"
(whatever that means) or as "concessions to popular
beliefs" (it is not true, incidentally, that in the Buddha's
day "everybody believed in rebirth"). Nor is there any
need for such explanations, since there is plenty of convincing
evidence for the reality of the process (see Appendix).
What is Rebirth?
Though "rebirth from moment to moment" is very
important to understand and should not be overlooked what we are
really concerned with here is "rebirth from life to life."
In this connection, two general, somewhat minor points should be
made. The term "birth" (jaati) here is not confined
to extrusion from a womb, it includes other processes such as the
spontaneous appearance of beings in certain states. Birth of the
human type is thus simply a particular case. There is also the
question of "intermediate states" between births. Some
Buddhists, and others, speak of such states. This is really just a
question of semantics: in the Theravada view, at least, any such
so-called intermediate state between existences of a certain type is
itself a "rebirth."
The reason why rebirth, of whatever kind, takes place is because
of the unexpended force of ta.nhaa or craving, conditioned by
ignorance. This force of ignorance and craving is comparable to a
powerful electric current. To suppose that it just ceases at
physical death is actually quite unreasonable, and contradicts the
law of conservation of energy. As to the question of the identity of
the being that is reborn with the one that died, the best answer is
that given by the Venerable Naagasena to Kind Milinda: "It is
neither the same nor different" (na ca so na c'a~n~no).
The whole process is really quite impersonal, but seemingly a being
exists and is reborn. We can thus make a clear distinction between
the terms "Reincarnation" and "Rebirth."
"Reincarnation" is the term used by those who hold that
a real entity (a "soul") exists and passes on from life to
life, occupying successive bodies. Literally, this should only apply
to manifestation in "fleshy" bodies, though it is commonly
applied to discarnate states as well. "Rebirth" denotes
the Buddhist view that while this is indeed what seems to happen,
the true process is entirely impersonal. What, therefore, in terms
of relative truth appears (and can be experienced by some) as
Reincarnation, is in terms of absolute truth Rebirth. The
formulation of Dependent Origination (pa.ticca-samuppaada)
describes the process as follows: ignorance conditions sankhaaras
(the karmic of personality patterns), the sankhaaras condition
consciousness, consciousness conditions mind-and-body, and so on.
This means that the pattern or "shape" of a person's
character is based on ignorance; this pattern is impressed, like a
seal on wax, on the new consciousness arising in the womb (or
otherwise), on which the development of a new being (mind-and-body)
depends.
The Western assumption that character and mental traits are
genetically inherited is not accepted in Buddhism; true, there may
be some genetic element, apart from the purely physical side, but
essential inheritance here is karmic. The apparent inheritance of
mental traits can be explained in many other ways. In part, it is
mere assumption. If a child turns out to be musical, people will
recall that his uncle George used to play the clarinet, a fact which
would have been forgotten had the child been tone-deaf. Parental and
other environmental influences can undoubtedly account for much,
especially when we allow for unconscious (telepathic) influence. Sir
Alister Hardy has even suggested that genes may be capable of being
influenced telepathically. Further, the "choice" of one's
parents is bound to be influenced by some affinity, and even by
karmic links from the past. By the same token, suggestions that it
would be possible to breed a race of "clones" with
identical reactions belongs, no doubt very fortunately, strictly to
realm of science fiction. Such people even if bred would not
be karmically identical, any more than identical twins are. Life is
not as mechanical as all that.
Death and the Arahant
For one who has attained full Enlightenment in this life, the
death of the body brings with it the end of all individual
existence: this at least is the Theravada teaching. This is called anupaadisesa-nibbaana,
"Nibbaana without the groups remaining." While the final
attainment of Nibbaana should not be understood as mere
annihilation in the materialistic sense (though some scholars seem
to interpret it in this way), nothing positive can be predicated of
it. It is not the extinction of self, for that self never was real
in the first place, nor is it "entering into Nibbaana,"
for there is no being who enters. It is the final cessation,
however, of the five aggregates which were the product of greed,
hatred and delusion. We may think of it as a state of utter peace,
and perhaps we can leave it at that. It is the Deathless State.
Meditation and Death
In his elaborate survey of Buddhist meditation methods, the Ven.
Dr. Vajira~naa.na says this of the meditation on mindfulness of
death: "It virtually belongs to the Vipassanaa meditation, for
the disciple should develop it while holding the perception of anicca,
dukkha, and anattaa."3
When the Ven. Somdet Phra Vanarata, the then Vice-Patriarch of
Thailand, visited Wat Dhammapadiipa, Hampstead, London, on 23rd
October 1968, he spoke on the subject of death. He said that we are
fortunate to be born in the human condition, in full possession of
all our faculties, as this gives us the possibility of hearing the
Dhamma and practicing it. This is an advantage we should not
neglect, because birth in the human state is a rare thing. If people
are born blind or deaf, or without other faculties, this is the
result of kamma. They may have to wait for another opportunity. We
should always remember the inevitability of death. The awareness of
this should make us cease from clinging too much to worldly things.
If we constantly keep the thought of death before our minds, this
will be an instigation to work hard on ourselves and make good
progress.
The standard Meditation on Death is given by Buddhaghosa in
Chapter VIII of the Visuddhimagga ("Path of
Purification"). It may be summarized as follows: Buddhaghosa
begins by stating the kinds of death he is not considering: the
final passing of the Arahant; "momentary death" (i.e., the
moment-to-moment dissolution of formations); or metaphorical uses of
the term "death." He refers to timely death which
comes with exhaustion of merit, or the life-span, or both, and to untimely
death produced by kamma that interrupts other (life-producing)
kamma. One should go into solitary retreat and exercise attention
wisely thus: "Death will take place, the life faculty will be
interrupted," or "Death, death." Unwise attention may
arise in the form of sorrow (at the death of a loved one), joy (at
the death of an enemy), indifference (as with a cremator), or fear
(at the thought of one's own death). There should always be
mindfulness, a sense of urgency, and knowledge. Then
"access-concentration" may be gained — and this is the
basis for the arising of Insight.
"But," says Buddhaghosa, "one who finds that it
does not get so far should do his recollecting of death in eight
ways, that is to say: (1) as having the appearance of a murderer,
(2) as the ruin of success, (3) by comparison, (4) as to sharing the
body with many, (5) as to the frailty of life, (6) as signless, (7)
as to the limitedness of the extent, (8) as to the shortness of the
moment." Some of these terms are not quite self-explanatory:
thus (3) means by comparing oneself with others — even the great
and famous, even Buddhas, have to die; (4) means that the body is
inhabited by all sorts of strange beings, "the eighty families
of worms." They live in dependence on, and feed on, the outer
skin, the inner skin, the flesh, the sinews, the bones, the marrow,
"and there they are born, grow old and die, evacuate, and make
water, and the body is their maternity home, their hospital, their
charnel ground, their privy and their urinal." (6) means that
death is unpredictable, (7) refers to the shortness of the human
life-span.
Buddhaghosa concludes: "A bhikkhu devoted to mindfulness of
death is constantly diligent. He acquires perception of
disenchantment with all kinds of becoming (existence). He conquers
attachment to life. He condemns evil. He avoids much storing. He has
not stain of avarice about requisites. Perception of impermanence
grows in him, following upon which there appear the perceptions of
pain and not-self. But while beings who have not developed
mindfulness of death fall victims to fear, horror and confusion at
the time of death as though suddenly seized by wild beasts, spirits,
snakes, robbers, or murderers, he dies undeluded and fearless
without falling into any such state. And if he does not attain the
deathless here and now, he is at least headed for a happy destiny on
the break up of the body.
Now when a man is truly wise,
His constant task will surely be
This recollection about death
Blessed with such mighty potency." 4
There are still those who suppose that it is somehow
"unscientific" to believe in any form of survival. There
is actually no justification for this view, and certainly today not
all scientists would endorse it.
As has been pointed out earlier, there are psychological reasons
why some scientists almost willfully shut their eyes to all evidence
for the paranormal; this enables them to continue operating on the
assumption that all manifestations of "mind" are simply
by-products of the body, determined by it and perishing with it. In
this way, mental activities are reduced to "mere"
functions of the brain, and so on. In fact, however, it should be
stressed that the brain does not think.
The human brain is a very remarkable organ, which has still been
only very superficially explored, owing to obvious practical
difficulties in addition to its own quite extraordinary complexity.
But quite certainly not all mental activities can be related to it.
The various forms of ESP (extra-sensory-perception) phenomena are
facts, and nothing in the physical brain has been found to account
for them, even by officially materialist Soviet-bloc scientists who
have a vested interest in establishing such a connection. Telepathy,
for instance, is not (except metaphorically) a form of "mental
radio": as the late G.N.M. Tyrrell, who was both a
distinguished psychic researcher and a radio expert, long ago
pointed out, it does not obey the law governing all forms of
physical radiation, the inverse square law connecting intensity with
distance.
Now while the existence of telepathy does not in itself prove
survival or rebirth — indeed it is often rather freely invoked to
"explain" evidence pointing to survival — it does prove
that something mental can "jump" through space (and even
time!) with no physical link. And this is of the very essence of
rebirth in the Buddhist view. And since telepathy is certainly a
fact, and widely accepted as such, all arguments against the
possibility of rebirth fall to the ground on this point alone. The
shrinking band of hardened skeptics who still doubt the fact of
telepathy have quite clearly not faced up to the overwhelming
evidence for it; indeed they have not even observed it in
themselves, though it probably occurs to some extent with everybody,
even if unrecognized as such.
There is, of course, a wealth of positive evidence for survival
in general and for rebirth in
particular. The material collected by
the Society for Physical Research over nearly a century is highly
impressive, and every single item in these records has been
subjected before acceptance to the most stringent tests — far more
stringent in fact than for many modern scientific
"discoveries." On rebirth in particular, reference can now
be made to Rebirth as Doctrine and Experience: Essays and Case
Studies by Francis Story (Buddhist Publication Society, Kandy
1975), which incorporates the same writer's Wheel publication The
Case for Rebirth. Dr. Ian Stevenson, Carlson Professor of
Psychiatry and Director of the Division of Parapsychology in the
University of Virginia School of Medicine, who collaborated with
Francis Story, is the author of a number of important works on the
subject, including Twenty Cases Suggestive of Reincarnation
(2nd edition, University of Virginia 1974), and three volumes of Cases
of the Reincarnation Type (University of Virginia 1975-6). A
Penguin book probably still obtainable which gives an admirable
survey of the general field of psychic phenomena is G.N.M. Tyrrell's
The Personality of Man; some further fascinating material can
also be found in The Cathars and Reincarnation by a
distinguished English psychiatrist, Dr. Arthur Guirdham (Neville
Spearman, London, 1970). The extraordinary career of Edgar Cayce
(1877-1945), who has now become something of a cult-figure in the
U.S.A, is well worth studying; one of the best books on him is Many
Mansions by Dr. Gina Cerminara, first published in 1950 and
often reprinted.
Notes
1. Hinsie &
Shatzky, Psychiatric Dictionary, Oxford University Press,
1940.
2. Buddhist
Dictionary, Colombo 1950.
3. Buddhist
Meditation, Colombo 1962, p. 209.
4. The full text
of this passage is to be found in The Path of Purification
(Visuddhimagga) by Bhadantaacariya Buddhaghosa, translated
from the Pali by Bhikkhu Ñanamoli, Kandy 1975 (BPS), pp. 247-259.
A lucid, learned, and witty commentary is provided by Edward Conze
in Thirty Years of Buddhist Studies, Oxford 1967, pp.
87-104. The reader may also consult with profit V. F. Gunaratna, Buddhist
Reflections on Death (Wheel Publications 102/103), Kandy
1966.
| Source: The Wheel Publication No. 261 (Kandy: Buddhist Publication
Society, 1978). Transcribed from the print edition in 2005 by
Oliver First, under the auspices of the Access to Insight Dhamma
Transcription Project and by arrangement with the Buddhist
Publication Society. Pali diacritics are represented using the
Velthuis convention. First published as Sangha Guide No. 3 by
the English Sangha Trust, Wat Dhammapadipa, London.Copyright ©
1978 Buddhist Publication Society. Reproduced and reformatted
from Access to Insight edition © 2005 For free distribution.
This work may be republished, reformatted, reprinted, and
redistributed in any medium. It is the author's wish, however,
that any such republication and redistribution be made available
to the public on a free and unrestricted basis and that
translations and other derivative works be clearly marked as
such. |
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