FIFTY years on from the liberalisation of spirituality which
occurred in the 1960s and 1970s, driving many from the West towards
the East in search of what they perceived as unable to be found in
their own culture, East now meets West on its home ground. In some
parts of the UK, for example, mosques, temples, and gurdwaras sit
comfortably alongside churches and synagogues, reflecting a
diversity that, in some cases, is little different from what can be
found in parts of India. Some churches have welcomed this with open
arms, and inter-religious dialogue has become an important part of
their mission.
There is much to be welcomed and gained. I myself have been
practising Zen for the past five years. To sit on a cushion and a
mat for 25 minutes at a time, just being aware of your breath,
seems on the surface to be a fairly pointless thing to do, but just
sitting has a great deal to teach. After a while, perhaps after a
period of seeming desperation, you have little alternative but to
let go of the attempt and simply accept that thoughts come and go,
and just keep coming back to the breath.
This is the beginning of coming home to yourself, because you
begin to lose the habitual sense of division that characterises
much of our lives and creates the illusion that you are separate
from other people, from the material world, from everything other
than you as a separate self. A relaxed acceptance of what is begins
to take root, and this acceptance extends beyond yourself to
others, to circumstances, to what life presents.
Even a sketchy description such as this will, I hope, evoke
resonances between Zen and Christianity. The breath, for example,
is significant in both Zen and Christianity, since in the latter it
is most readily associated with the Holy Spirit. Zen could also be
characterised in part as being about waking up to the reality of
life.
As in Zen, the Psalmist encourages the practice of stillness:
"Be still and know that I am God" (Psalm 46,10); but it is here,
perhaps, that a certain unease might be felt; for there seems to be
nothing about God in Zen. Certainly, Zen remains conceptually
silent about God, but then Christianity itself reaches a point
where words and concepts become inadequate. It is precisely here
that Zen can help; for it encourages you to discover the "mind
before knowing". In Christian terms, the living reality of God is
beyond words, thoughts, and concepts, before which we can only fall
silent. In Zen and Christianity alike, though, this silence is not
a vacuum, but a place of energy, love, wisdom, and compassion.
If Christians can find in the practice of Zen something to help
them make this real in their own experience, they will have
fulfilled the aspirations of Yamada Roshi, who said to his
Christian students: "I am not trying to make you a Buddhist, but to
empty you in imitation of your Lord Jesus Christ. I just want to
make you a better Christian."
The Revd Dr Christopher Collingwood is Canon Chancellor of
York Minster.