RELN6001: Individual Honours Study Unit 1

The Contemplative Dimensions of Detachment and Solitude in Thomas Merton and Shantideva: A New Dialogue in Experiential Monastic Convergences

Due Date: June 5th, 2009

Word Count: 10,000

Supervisor: Dr. Neil Pembroke

Raymond Lam

1

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1.0 INTRODUCTION……………………………………………………………………………..3

1.1 THE CONTEMPLATIVE DIMENSIONS………………………………………………………..6

2.0 DETACHMENT…….………………………………………………………………………...9

2.1 SOLITUDE…….…………………………………………………………………………...16

3.0 CONCLUSION AND IMPLICATIONS…………………………………………………………24

4.0 BIBLIOGRAPHY…….……………………………………………………………………...27

2

1.0. INTRODUCTION

Thomas Merton1 (known in his monastic community as Father Louis) and Shantideva2 (a former prince named Shantivarman) are religious luminaries of their respective times, but the corresponding periods in which they lived were so different, so disparate, that it is difficult to conceive of any specific dialogue that could be established between their ideas on morality, contemplation or religious belief. My contention is that a study of these two thinkers can contribute significantly to a deeper understanding of shared Christian and Buddhist concepts.

It is commonly accepted that a central element in spiritual maturity is the transformation of consciousness. Merton points out that the monk finds himself in an “ideal setting” for this task.

When I say “traditional monasticism,” I mean Buddhist monasticism as well as Christian. Buddhist and Christian monasticism start from the problem inside man himself. Instead of dealing with the external structures of society, they start with man’s own consciousness. Both Christianity and Buddhism agree that the root of man’s problems is that his consciousness is all fouled up and he does not apprehend reality as it fully and really is; that the moment he looks at something, he begins to interpret it in ways that are prejudiced and predetermined to fit a certain wrong picture of the world, in which he exists as an individual ego in the center of things.

… Christianity and Buddhism alike, then, seek to bring about a transformation of man’s consciousness. And instead of starting with matter itself and then moving up to a new structure, in which man will automatically develop a new consciousness, the traditional religions begin with the consciousness of the individual, seek to transform and liberate the truth in each person, with the idea that it will then communicate itself to others. Of course, the man par excellence to whom this task is deputed is the monk. And the Christian monk and Buddhist monk – in their sort of ideal setting and the ideal way of looking at them – fulfil

this role in society (Merton, 1974, pp. 326 – 343).

Here, Merton was addressing contemporary, fellow monastics. He was not addressing an eighth century monk, and partly as a result, modern scholarship has focused on dialogues that are closer in time to Merton. Examples of this are between him and Thich Nhat Hahn, or with D.T. Suzuki, (Merton, 1968) or with Dogen and Jung (Gunn, 2000). Modern scholarship lacks a systematic study conducted between Merton and Shantideva thus far.

To contribute to this potential field of study, this paper contends that a Merton-Shantideva dialogue can be discovered in their contemplative dimensions of detachment and solitude.

1 31 January 1915 – 10 December 1968

2 8th century C.E.

3

These dimensions are not synonymous with (and do not serve the same purpose as) the contemplative dimension as defined by the Vatican, which is “basically a reality of grace, experienced by the believer as God's gift.”3 Rather, in this study I define the contemplative dimensions as shared experiential rubrics of spiritual practice that are particular to contemplative, monastic thought. Extending from that definition, it is suggested that the dimensions of detachment and solitude are the main points of contact between the spiritual philosophy and experience of Merton and Shantideva. Once detachment and solitude are defined as experiential dimensions of the monastic life, it becomes possible to bring them to the forefront to introduce a greater common understanding to the Buddhist and Christian dialogue in the context of the religions’ monastic heritages. Therefore in this paper, the construction of a dialogue between Merton and Shantideva is attempted through common experiential encounters discovered within the contemplative dimensions of detachment and solitude.

However, without elaboration, these dual rubrics of detachment and solitude that Merton and Shantideva are asserted to share might seem vague and arbitrary. Because this essay expressly seeks to build a bridge between them, its introduction seeks to define the components of these contemplative dimensions along with some of the primary and secondary sources used, in order to set the scene for this fundamentally monastic, Buddhist-Christian dialogue. In brief, the dimension of detachment is the inner distancing of oneself from things unbeneficial or harmful to the spiritual path, leading to different aspects of renunciation at play in the monastic life. These aspects will be elaborated in section 2.1 of this paper. The solitary dimension is, firstly, different to that of the solitary individual. Solitude is aloneness in the service of communion. It is the dimension that promotes communion with others through, on the one hand, dismantling the artificial self that keeps one apart from others, and on the other, approaching the Absolute in aloneness. Within these largely experiential definitions of “contemplative dimensions,” the paper will accordingly explore and critically analyse possibly legitimate ideas of rapport between the two spiritual masters.

This study does not seek to force connections where none exist. The dimensions of detachment and solitude were selected because they are unique to the heritage of monasticism and contemplation, in particular the heritage of Merton’s Christianity and Shantideva’s Buddhism. There is a risk of identifying dimensions that may be too broad in the scope of religious practice, or dimensions that are too experientially dissimilar. Originally for this study, the dimension of faith was included as one of Merton and Shantideva’s common rubrics. However, as my research progressed, the institutional, metaphysical and doctrinal irreconcilabilities of faith came to render any experiential commonality between the contemplation of Merton and Shantideva too superficial to maintain.

In examining the primary text, authors, biographers and commentators alike have noted the keen emphasis that Merton and Shantideva place on faith. However, “faith” is too general. It serves more as a common prerequisite of any religion (Yamamoto, 1965, p. 5) than as an

3 See Bibliography.

4

experiential dimension for two monastic masters. Faith, for Merton, holds a special definition in the Church and is most importantly an “intellectual assent,” (Merton, 1957, p. 44) “a radical and total commitment to the truth of the Incarnation and Redemption as revealed in God and taught by the Church” (Merton, 1989, p. 336). For Shantideva, the concept of faith is quite different to that of Christian theology and involves a different worldview that is far more separated from Merton’s experience as opposed to the rubrics of detachment and solitude.

As it is written in the Niyataniyatagatimudravatara-sutra, “Mañjushrî, if, for the sake of argument, all the beings of the entire universes of the ten directions were to lose their eyes and my noble sons and daughters, with their loving thoughts, were to cause them to grow again, even such merit, O Mañjushrî, would be unequal to that of my noble sons and daughters who watch with faith and

devotion the Bodhisattva devoted to the Mahayana.” (Pelden, 2007, p. 61)

It can perhaps be noted that Merton’s assertion of faith as the first step to contemplation (1957, p. 49) runs parallels with Shantideva’s monastic conception of faith as “the guide, the mother, the producer, the protector and increaser of all virtues” (Shantideva, Siksha-samuccaya p. 3, 6). Nevertheless, their contemplative journeys, engendered alike by the motivation of faith, can only continue on a common path through detachment and solitude. The main concern of this essay is therefore of experiential, contemplative dimensions and not dimensions of a general, doctrinal nature. However, examining the dimension of faith was still helpful in consolidating the detached and solitary dimensions as more cohesive rubrics.

There has existed a varied and decently substantial body of literature studying the individual, contemplative thought of Merton and Shantideva. Merton (having lived in a much more recent era to ours) enjoys more mainstream exposure of his ideas and his works, especially in his poems, journals, and meditations. By contrast, there are two primary texts that we can be certain were historically written and compiled by Shantideva himself: The Way of the Bodhisattva and A Compendium of Buddhist Doctrine. Further research depends on the lineage of Buddhist schools that have translated and commentated on his work, treasuring his expertise and reliability enough to treat his work as a milestone in Mahayana Buddhism. Naomi Burton Stone, along with Brother Patrick Hart, have compiled many of Merton’s writings on Christian contemplation and solitude along with the published works before his death. Furthermore, biographers such as Lawrence Cunningham have highlighted his “vision” of monasticism as a vibrant voice that rests in the silence of God, allowing the world to listen to authentic morality. Shantideva’s vocation as a monastic is not ignored either, with many commentaries having been written on his extolling of solitude, detachment and renunciation.

It is hoped that this dialogue between the two spiritual masters will offer a new, shared perspective for Buddhist-Christian interfaith appreciation of the transformative contemplative consciousness. It now falls upon this essay to examine exactly what concepts within the introspective rubrics of these two monastic writers form legitimate common ground. Referring back to Merton’s address to the Buddhist monks, it is apparent that the strongest connections between him and Shantideva will most likely be related to the experiential, deep-psychological level of religious contemplation that lead to a transformation of consciousness.

5

The exact nature of these connections within detachment and solitude will be examined in a brief overview, elaborated on throughout the course of this paper, and summarized in its conclusion.

1.1 THE CONTEMPLATIVE DIMENSIONS

As posited in the introduction, the contemplative dimensions function as rubrics of rapport between the writing of Merton and Shantideva, whether they be similarities in thinking or experiential parallels. More specifically, these rubrics are particularly developed and refined in the monastic tradition of Buddhism and Christianity, although they have an important application in the totality of the religions in question. This essay draws from many of his later works, such as his posthumously compiled Asian Journal, Zen and the Birds of Appetite and Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander, where he recognizes the importance of a sincere Christian dialogue with Asian religion and that spiritual, interior and personal freedom are not foreign to the other faiths (Merton, 1989, pp. 89 – 90). This is in contrast to his older, more traditional works like the first edition of Seeds of Contemplation, where he flatly denies the possibility of authentic contemplative experience outside the Catholic Church. So it was perhaps a surprise to Merton himself when he discovered a powerful affinity with the monks of the Dharmic traditions before and during his travels in Asia. The agreements and friendships were brisk, keen and reciprocal. His use of vocabulary – especially when he spoke of the “way” and “wisdom” – struck chords of agreement in Asian contemplatives and helped Christian monks and Buddhist thinkers alike to “reach the experience of inner unity” (Merton, 1973, pp. 16 – 17). Merton himself discerned several important general commonalities between himself and his Eastern brothers. He applied the term “monastic” in a broad way to those forms of special contemplative dedication that included:

(a) A certain distance or detachment from the “ordinary” and “secular” concerns of worldly life; a monastic solitude, whether partial or total, temporary or permanent.

(b) A preoccupation with the radical inner depth of one’s religious and philosophical beliefs, the inner and experimental “ground” of those beliefs, and their outstanding spiritual implications.

(c) A special concern with inner transformation, a deepening of consciousness toward an eventual breakthrough and discovery of a transcendent dimension of life beyond that of the ordinary empirical self and of ethical and pious observance (Merton, 1974, pp. 309 – 310).

The contemplative dimensions of detachment and solitude should therefore correspond to (or can simply be) these central features that characterize the monasteries and brotherhoods Merton has in mind when relating to Buddhist monks. The contemplative spirit not only features a special concern with maintaining the austere tradition of silence, detachment and solitude (Merton, 1957, 1974) but also aims at subverting what renders man “less than man.” What is most important to the monk’s quest is “…true self-transcendence and enlightenment. It is to be sought in the transformation of consciousness in its ultimate ground, as well as in the highest and most authentic devotional love of the bhakti type” (Merton, 1974, p. 309). It is apparent that Merton found much in common with his own contemplative adoration of

6

Christ and the devotional meditation of the Buddhist schools, in particular those of the Mahayana traditions (Ch’an and Vajrayana). Therefore, we can see that he establishes this existential common ground with his Buddhist contemporaries on well-reasoned ideas and a keen, thoughtful spirit.

But this friendly hand should – and can – be extended to a significant religious writer from another epoch: that titan of the Mahayana tradition, Shantideva. There are many possible benefits to such a dialogue. Merton’s writings, which embrace a commitment to justice and individual experience, are unique in their monastic orientation but also address a broad audience. They can provide a refreshing lens through which to apply Shantideva’s teachings in a contemporary setting, where balance is sought between stilling the frenetic, deluded mind and engaging sincerely in modernity’s ethical debates (Shantideva tends to emphasize the former). This is not to say that the concept of righteousness or social change and justice is absent from the Buddhist movement, but there is considerably less emphasis compared to that of the Jewish prophets and the dramatic messages of Jesus (it is a well-known peculiarity that the Buddha often enjoyed the support of Indian kings and vice versa, which is a stark contrast to Jesus’s criticisms of the Roman worldly powers). This is understandable given that the heritage of the prophets belongs to the Near Eastern and Western religious traditions as opposed to the Indian and East Asian traditions.

Speaking more personally from Merton’s perspective, it has already been noted that he directly criticized the moral excesses of his era, whereas Shantideva identified the illness of humanity more generally, with relatively little interest in direct societal reform (the problems of society, after all, were problems generated by the mind). It is an interesting and powerful observation that Merton’s detachment and solitude as a contemplative monastic did not, especially in his later years, impede what can be called the prophetic dimension of his writing. Through a dialogue with his liberal and open-minded school of contemplation, the traditions that claim pedagogical loyalty to Shantideva can draw ideas and inspiration from the emphases on social justice and active advocacy (Gross, 1993, p. 183) that are characteristic of a prophetic religion. This will provide monastic Buddhism with more formidable tools of addressing spiritual ailments that are brought about by life in the modern world today. In turn, due to the popularity of Buddhist ideas in contemporary Western culture, Shantideva’s subtle and multi-faceted understanding of psychology and meditation can add new nuances and depth to the Christianity that Merton envisioned. The emphasis Shantideva places on interior cultivation (and his Buddhist insight into subtle states of the human mind) can reinforce Merton’s contentions that authentic Christianity requires more than external productivity. This “quiet,” self-aware, love-centred Christianity understands that the voice of God is most clearly heard in silence, and is consequently a form of monastic faith open to intimate dialogue. Therefore, in this particular exchange between Merton and Shantideva, discussion on the detached and solitary dimensions will help to illuminate the contemplative level of reality that they share.

Whilst the idea may seem obvious that the contemplative rubrics find their most eloquent expression in the monastic context, another important observation is that they are also universal dimensions; that is, they are absolutely essential to the thoughtful, healthy religious

7

life. Ideally, contemplative dimensions cannot be superficially boxed and compartmentalized into categories that are progressively struck off in a spirit of utility. Overlapping and coinciding segments of detachment and solitude will be identified on various occasions through this essay. This is part of the underlying harmony that has been uncovered in the contemplative thought of Merton and Shantideva. And while it is a common caution that one does not “seek out” detachment and solitude for the intended purpose of religious transcendence, there is certainly a degree of immersion that should be recognized as necessary: an immersion into what Merton and Shantideva saw as immeasurably significant to the spiritual nourishment of the individual adherent. Practically, it is unhelpful for practitioners to bracket the ideal of contemplation from everyday religious life. Taking all this into account to set the scene, it is now possible to proceed with an analysis of the contemplative dimensions between Merton and Shantideva to identify the common ground of dialogue. We will begin with detachment.

8

2.0 DETACHMENT

In the history of monastic traditions there has always been a heavy emphasis on detachment. Detachment is the inner commitment of the contemplative to distance herself from thoughts, speech and actions that cause suffering and alienation. It is, for Shantideva and Merton, the secret of interior peace. The idea of detachment has been developed to the greatest degree in the monastic traditions, beyond that of priests and devout laymen, rendering it a crucial dimension of the contemplative life. However, the approach to detachment shared by these spiritual masters is not that of mere withdrawal (Merton, 1964, p. xiii) or a life-denying flight from human happiness. Such an illusory attempt to escape history and time is not only impossible, but would be a caricature of detachment’s true purposes. Authentic detachment is better expressed as “liberation” and the refined capacity to distinguish morality from corruption of the human conscience in any form. This capability of discernment is celebrated in monastic Christianity and Buddhism, through which contemplatives attain the joy and serenity of emptiness that is radically different to the ephemerality of the absurdity of pleasure seeking in society (Merton, 1961, pp. 178 – 9). It can be noted in passing that detachment also entails disengagement from attachment to deficient human ideology in order to experience a religious encounter with the transcendent. In this sense, Merton’s care of separating a false sense of piety from deep religious adoration of God shares similarities to Shantideva’s Madhyamaka philosophy, in which human concepts – even Buddhist concepts created by humans – are all proved to be refutable and to have no grounding in ultimate reality (The Way of Bodhisattva, 9). And it is the “renunciation” feature of detachment that eventually leads to the experiential component of solitude, the second contemplative dimension.

But in order to identify the exact commonalities within the detached dimension, it is necessary to set the scene for how detachment functioned in Merton and Shantideva’s thought. In the introduction to this paper, it was noted that in his dialogue with Eastern monks Merton portrayed a characteristic of the monastic life as a certain distance from the ordinary concerns of worldly life. Therefore, the essence or basis for detachment in Merton and Shantideva is to attain something far greater than the attachments that tend to be destructive to interior spirituality.

Negative attachments are especially harmful when carried into excess, as Merton’s example illustrates. Before his life as a monk, he constantly and directly suffered the repercussions of his immoderate cravings during his studies at the University of Cambridge. The culmination of this was the moral disaster of impregnating a woman he was unable to care for (Cunningham, 1999, p. 6). Then, as early as twenty-one, he came to a stark recognition that the fleeting fulfilment he clung to had all but vanished, leaving him in despair, guilt, and existential voidness. He had been grasping at what was, in Shantideva’s words, unwise and destructive things with unwise and destructive motivations. He had conceived of ransacking and robbing the world of all its pleasures and satisfactions. But at the climax of it all, he realized: “I had done what I intended and now I found that it was I who was emptied and robbed and gutted. What a strange thing! In filling myself, I had emptied myself. In grasping things, I had lost everything” (Merton, 1978, pp. 163 – 65). After his conversion to

9

Catholicism, he decided to turn away from pleasure-seeking and devote himself entirely to the religious vocation. For this reason, Robert Gunn notes that Merton’s formal entry into Gethsemani entailed a detachment from external things, people and results of action, as well as internal desires, preferences and feelings (Gunn. 2000, p. 146). Merton actually nurtured a need to be nothing, to surrender everything to attain union with God.

Shantideva, in his chapter on Meditative Concentration, similarly employed a pedagogical attitude to counteract the idea that there is anything more preferable to cultivating religious virtue and merit. As a monk, Shantideva’s instructions were rigid and rigorous in its rules for those who aspired to follow the monastic path. He ridiculed the copious efforts common people wasted in chasing things like material wealth, secular achievements and sex when he could attain Buddhahood itself with a fraction of the struggle and a dash of common sense (The Way of Bodhisattva, 8: 43 – 68). Of particular concern to him were undisciplined monks. To encourage monks lagging unacceptably behind due to their craving for impermanent things, he utilized the technique of “dismantling” objects of attachment into their component parts, which inevitably led to some unpleasant but perhaps valid conclusions about the body’s ephemerality. Despite some of the slightly morbid reflections on the impurities and impermanence of the human and its orifices, several observations keep modern judgement of Shantideva as a cynical, embittered ascetic in check. His meditations on the “distinction of mundane and transcendent things” (Schroeder, 2001, p. 82) were directed towards instructing monks who suffered from particularly unruly minds and were overcome by passion. His dry humour was also intended to reduce to absurdity the conventional, societal conceptions of “love:” love that is superficial and dependent on an individual’s externalities rather than her inner qualities, and hence not true love. He is startlingly forthright in his refutation in this and many other passages throughout his poem.

Is it not best to have no lust / For something that by nature stinks? The worldly crave beside their purpose – / Why do they anoint their flesh with pleasant scents? / For if this scent is sandalwood, / How can it be the perfume of the body? / How is it that the fragrance of a

thing / Induces you to crave for something else? (8: 66 – 7).

Yet it is impossible for a contemplative to realize great compassion if she engenders any kind of resentment against the human body. Shantideva liberally extols compassion as the bodhisattva’s central calling throughout Chapters 1 – 5 and 10 of his poem, and praises the “precious human form’s” rarity, inherent goodness and capability for virtue (4: 15, 17, 20). Therefore, it is arguable that detachment should be moderated by a distinctly affirming care for living beings: Merton actively sees sexuality as a positive drive whilst Shantideva honours the human body through a slightly sublimated approach.

At first, Merton initially seemed to struggle with the concept of “world” and how a Christian could love those within the world whilst somehow detaching himself from that which brought sin, ignorance and death. Cunningham notes that as his spiritual intelligence and maturity grew, he realized that the old monastic stance of fuga mundi (flight from the world) or contemptus mundi (detachment from things of the world) had to evolve as well. He realized that monastic detachment from the world is an invitation to be close to the world, but in a

10

different way: to understand the world as God’s place for him and to understand his task within it (Cunningham, 1999, p. 192). This would eventually lead to his awareness of a danger, from the Christian monastic perspective, to devolve into “angelism,” or contempt for the human in the name of a higher and more Gnostic perfection. In his short essay on World, in which the later maturity in his religious thought is evident, he outlines the Christian’s dialogue with the world (1985, p. 123) as one that is similar to the Buddhist’s, which attempts to benefit it whilst retaining an element of detachment from it. If this was authentic detachment, then it was extremely difficult to achieve. In his typical honesty, he writes: “There are aspects of detachment and refinements of interior purity and delicacy of conscience that even the majority of sincerely holy men never succeed in discovering” (Merton, 1957, p. 73).

As early as No Man Is An Island, Merton was already abandoning traditional notions of contemptus mundi, and highlights that monastic asceticism “is not supposed to make us weary of a life that is vile. It is not supposed to make our bodies, which are good, appear to us to be evil… The real purpose of asceticism is to disclose the difference between the evil use of created things, which is sin, and their good use, which is virtue” (Merton, 1955, pp. 92 – 3). This resonates with the previously mentioned fact that Shantideva stresses the extreme rarity and preciousness of obtaining a human body in this life and the opportunity to practice virtue (The Way of Bodhisattva, 4: 17, 20). At the same time, he teaches his monks to counteract lust by reflecting on the body’s inherent unreality and the futility and self-deception of activities centred on craving, which is subtly distinct from love (8: 1 – 187). Such an approach to detachment is not contradictory. In their spiritual maturity, Merton and Shantideva share a “middle way” of viewing bodily and spiritual matters to create a coherent identity of a detached monastic. This reflects their preferences for moderation in the monastic discipline. This can be expanded further as a shared view of matter/spirit or individuality/unity between Christianity and Buddhism. While detachment and discipline refine the capacity to distinguish between morality and the corruption of conscience, it does not entail an aversive or negating opinion of the world and its corporeality. Robert Gunn relates the belief that God became incarnate in human form with the idea that the all-loving God affirms matter and spirit alike: in Jesus Christ, “the infinite emptied itself into the finite” (Gunn, 2000, p. 138). It is evident that in his writing, the mature Merton attempted to articulate something of this divine love and cherish the world in the same way that God loves it. From the Mahayana perspective, the celebrated teaching of the crucial Heart Sutra is extremely significant for the monastic vocation: “Form does not differ from emptiness, emptiness does not differ from form. Form itself is emptiness, and emptiness is itself form” (Heart Sutra, from Ven. Hua, 1980, p. 1). In meditating on this pliant interaction, the contemplative endeavours to live out a balance between the relative and the absolute (Gunn, 2000, p. 138), since an inexpressible purity4 is inherently discoverable in all phenomena. Therefore, an appreciation of the intrinsic compatibility between detachment and loving the world is understood by the two traditions to be very important.

4 Specifically for Shantideva and the Mahayana schools, this would be the potentiality of Buddha-Nature (The

Way of Bodhisattva, 7:18).

11

Detachment is closely related to another monastic aspect that is commonly associated with the vocation of a contemplative: renunciation. In the context of this dialogue, it is defined as renunciation of one’s own delusions and the delusions of others. Brassard notes that from Shantideva’s perspective, renunciation means “disengaging one’s mind from whatever keeps it busy… there are the discourses on the causes of one’s distraction from the skilful things, that is, basically that which has to be renounced in order to progress spiritually” (Brassard, 2000, p. 105). This resonates very closely with Merton’s own ideals of renunciation, which is given in Disputed Questions. For him, self-denial delivers people from their passions and from selfishness, along with a superstitious attachment to the ego as if it were a god, an idol (Merton, 1955, p. 92). Renunciation, in its relation to detachment, is much more complex than giving up meat, alcohol, and a sex life. For Merton and Shantideva, the ego is renounced in order to embrace something higher—namely, Ultimate Reality. The false self must leave the individual in order to experience the fullness of the true self, which is done by abandoning all contingent things in devotion to the Absolute (Merton, 1941 – 1952). In renouncing temporality, infinity is attained.

Eventually, due to the sweeping implications of these shared ideas of detachment, a distinctly moral aspect begins to grow from the dimension. To cultivate a heart conducive to the contemplative spirit, Shantideva urges one to detach oneself from the overlooked and neglected excesses that characterizes his criticisms of the “world”: the excess of defiled emotions (The Way of Bodhisattva, 4: 41 – 3). Along with the passion for unreality that characterizes the impatient men that do not see the value in contemplation and detachment and only in the triumphant affirmation of their own will and power,5 anger fills the world with violence, hatred and an insane, cunning fury that threatens existence itself (Merton, 1968, p. 219, 224). The afflicted passions that a contemplative seeks to detach herself from are not pleasurable and pleasant emotions in themselves – they lead to a literal Hell on Earth thanks to their dwelling within the mind: no other enemy is able to endure for so long (The Way of Bodhisattva, 4: 32). Shantideva astutely observes that the true problem is not that defilements occur in human minds,6 but that too often people are not aware that said defilements are present. The detached dimension specifically aims at severing the reflective mind’s bonds from the conscious and subconscious afflictions that characterize an unreflective society (or one that is insufficiently reflective). The consequences of these unchecked defilements destroy many potential and existent fruits of virtue (Kelsang Gyatso, 2000, p. 128), whether it is in the monastery or in the world. Merton and Shantideva alike recognize this insidious danger. To go further, the contemplative is a person who renounces and detaches himself from society’s mistakes (perhaps not their consequences), from “arbitrary social imagery:”

When his nation is rich and arrogant, he does not feel that he himself is more fortunate and more honest, as well as more powerful than the citizens of other, more “backward nations.” More than this: he is able to

5 Merton names specifically: money, power, publicity, machines, business, political advantage, and military

strategy. (Merton, 1968, p. 219)

6 Defilements are merely thoughts. Through analysis and patient skill, they can be dispels by the eye of wisdom.

12

despise war and to see the futility of rockets to the moon in a way quite different and more fundamental from the way in which his society may tolerate these negative views. That is to say, he despises the criminal, bloodthirsty arrogance of his own vocation or class, as much as that of “the enemy.” He despises his own self-seeking aggressitivity as much as that of the politicians who hypocritically pretend they are fighting for

peace (Merton, 1961, p. 187).

If renunciation implies an abandonment of this radical sort, it will also suggest the renunciation of certain kinds of human company, which is a characteristic commitment of monastics. Meditation on detachment from things, ideas, and people is common in Merton’s later as well as early thought, and gains an exalted status in Shantideva’s religious poem The Way of the Bodhisattva. Shantideva stresses this quite emphatically; indeed, his entire philosophy as a totality is centred on becoming beneficial for others by first, paradoxically, becoming detached from the sentient beings one hopes to benefit (6: 122). He reserves a harsher term, “childish folk,” for the beings that a practitioner must distance herself from. These are the people who lead one to a state far from virtue, so immersed are they in the delusions and suffering of samsara7 (8: 9 – 15) that as she is, a contemplative must first detach herself from their scrambles and wants if she is to become educated, tranquil and practiced enough to truly benefit them. This runs a parallel with Merton’s criticism of the trap modern society has fallen into:

Our own society prefers the absurd. But our absurdity is blended with a certain hard-headed, fully determined seriousness with which we devote ourselves to the acquisition of money, to the satisfaction of our appetite for status, and our justification of ourselves as contrasted with the

totalitarian iniquity of our opposite number (Merton, 1961, pp. 178 – 9).

He goes further, noting that contemplation will be denied to a man in proportion as he belongs to the world (1975, p. 93). In this context his use of “world” signifies “those who love the things of this world.” Spiritual things “cannot be appreciated or understood by the mind that is occupied with temporal and merely human satisfactions” (1975, p. 93).

Occupation with temporal satisfactions like riches, reputation and renown (The Way of Bodhisattva, 8: 20) is also common in Shantideva’s childish beings. He identifies their afflictions as laziness, an inclination for unwholesomeness, defeatism and self-contempt (7: 2), which are the contraries of joyful diligence in spiritual practice. This laxity snares them in defiled emotion (7: 4) and inevitably tarnishes their worldly behaviour: “Jealous of superiors, they vie with equals, / Proud to those below, they strut when praised. / Say something untoward, they seethe with rage. / What good was ever had from childish folk?” (8: 12). He notes that they will scorn those who are poorer than them in material wealth; yet envy those richer than them (8: 23). He urges contemplatives to see through such irrational cravings and anguish. This shares parallels with many of Merton’s criticisms of the American society of his day, namely the bad faith that worships a marketing and affluent

7 The Sanskrit word samsara denotes the world that is marked by suffering, greed, hatred and delusion.

13

society more so than the Lord (Merton, 1968, p. 201), the inability to see the home-spawned threats of social injustice and inauthenticity (1968, p. 138), and collective guilt for its violence and prejudice (1968, p. 181). For the contemplative, refusing to relinquish this kind of interaction stunts spiritual growth and compromises her balance between monasticism and social action, between insight and illusion, and between participation in the community and the quiet, thoughtful life (Cunningham, 1999, p. 79). It can trap the reflective believer into the thinking of the group, and induce a passion for conformity with society that is harmful to the contemplative life (Cunningham, 1999, p. 78).

A monk must therefore, inevitably, renounce such negative company to facilitate detachment from the lower aspirations of common society. As unfortunately inevitable as this kind of distancing may be, Shantideva and Merton are assured that this is the way to cultivating a deeper, more tranquil basis of compassion for precisely those that ordinary beings find great difficulty in loving: those they are indifferent to, and their enemies. Contemplatives, in Merton and Shantideva’s spirit, will engage in ordinary pleasures to be of comfort and emotional benefit to people. Things such as indulgent, petty chitchat, dancing, the magicians’ tricks beggars perform for money: wise sages engage in these with others while casting aside all interest and taste for them (5: 45). Since detachment is an active renunciation of the pursuits that the false ego enjoys, an individual true to herself finds less pleasure in such pursuits, though such a lessening of pleasure is certainly not due to a negative faculty of mind.

Perhaps there is inevitably a certain austerity and harshness shared between Merton and Shantideva in their witnesses to irreligious lives that lack contemplation and detachment. But Merton’s unique spin on a common criticism of society notes that beyond the transient pursuits of business and pleasure, the devotion of lives to an invisible God is in fact quite normal (Merton, 1957, p. viii). Those immersed in society fail to see the importance of contemplation, and inevitably return to their restless ways of pleasure-seeking, entertainment, and numbness. Merton often criticized the general moral excesses and contradictions of the 1960’s, while Shantideva took it for granted that all the roots of the problems in conventional human interaction are based on some form of samsaric self-grasping and delusion. Even those that attempt to abandon this self-grasping and delusion realize, in retrospect, that they have not possessed the diligence to even persist beyond several minutes (Kelsang Gyatso, 2000, p. 212). Such is the sombre state of general society that the monastics have borne witness to.

Due to these observations and their own vocations, the interior but compassionate denial of these delusions becomes the only way to distinguish benefit from harm and realization from regression. Detachment from excessively clinging states of mind is therefore a shared dimension of experience between Merton and Shantideva. It has been demonstrated that in a context of monasticism, this is an imperative undertaking and can be pertinent even for lay contemplatives who require a conducive environment and good company to develop their spiritual maturity. Such detachment is based on premises of religious hope. As emphasized already, neither gives in to ascetic morbidity or puritan self-castigation, for those, too, are inner afflictions and psychological extremes. Shantideva observes that defilements are not

14

intrinsic to humanity’s true nature, and that the courage to detach oneself from them is all that is needed to identify their empty properties and banish them (The Way of Bodhisattva, 4: 47). The two contemplatives both recognize that within this dimension of detachment hides the essence of shared monastic principles. In other words, detachment in Merton and Shantideva is characterized by the deliberate and systematic distancing from childish company (The Way of Bodhisattva, 8: 15) or the bread and circuses of society (Merton, 1961, p. 178). What follows from this distancing is their enthusiastic renunciation of the “old life” of falseness within themselves and in their interaction with the world for the sake of a higher calling and experience infinitely more beneficial and prudent to themselves and others.

Thus far, their journey of dialogue begins in the “stepping forth” into the exclusively religious life, which is, from their perspective, the only choice of life that can encompass all others in a silent witness to the suffering and self-destruction of the world. The common thread of detachment is woven through their experiences of renunciation as they endeavour to separate themselves from the world’s delusion and inauthenticity whilst remaining genuinely loving and compassionate towards the sentient beings within it. Here, the concept of detachment denotes a philosophical and spiritual experience that has not yet been completed. It is important to remember that the fundamental authenticity of contemplative detachment comes from a rooted, still, tranquil centre of being oriented towards the Absolute. This centre of being is the second thread that weaves another tapestry between the messages of Merton and Shantideva. The centre is the dimension of solitude, a distinctly contemplative and monastic practice that possesses many a deep, transformative significance in this dialogue. The practical fulfillment of contemplative detachment is the realization in solitude that this ego that inflicts so much pain on the world is inherently false and nonexistent (The Way of Bodhisattva, 9: 77), and is not distinct from the rest of the world in its suffering. This is not an academic realization but a “monastic” insight cultivated in a paradoxical environment of aloneness. To truly alleviate suffering, the radical reorientation (Anacker, 1978) of detachment must be taken further through solitude, and this can be said to be the next step after detachment between Merton and Shantideva.

Shantideva’s moderate and judicious conception of detachment shares many commonalities with Merton’s, but he also shares with him intricate elements of this dialogue’s second dimension. They consist of the shared acknowledgment of death’s power to unite men through their shared solitude, the confrontation with the deluded self, and its absurd grasping at transient things to the detriment of spiritual nourishment. But these grim reflections also provide the common liberation from existential falsehood, where the presence of the Absolute and transcendence is paradoxically encountered within solitude and its confines. These facets, as will be demonstrated in the essay’s next section, form the uniting, transformative dimension of solitude for Merton and Shantideva.

2.1 SOLITUDE

One of the most complex facets and commonalities of their religious life is found in the dimension of solitude, in the practice of “aloneness” that Merton and Shantideva extol. This

15

experience of physical and spiritual solitude, which can be said to be the deepest and most complex practice of a contemplative, is a general term for the activity of the stilled, tranquil mind in the presence of the Absolute.8 The two aspects of internal motivation (a psychological imposition upon the physical limits of one’s spatial and social boundaries) and external motivation (exterior entities and events that prompt withdrawal) characterize solitude more specifically than the dimension of detachment. An example of external motivation is the concept of withdrawing into the natural wilderness as a sign of contradiction, to be heard as a voiceless, prophetic cry (Merton, 1961, p. 204). But this is where an interesting, minor divergence occurs between Merton and Shantideva. Whereas Merton uses the desert as the central locus of all Christian contemplation since the time of the first Desert Fathers (Merton, 1956, p. 18), Shantideva’s ideal of solitude and withdrawal is in the forest, where the extent of contentment and potential for spiritual attainment exceeds all the riches of pleasures found in worldly dwelling (The Way of Bodhisattva, 8: 34 – 38, 85 – 89).

In both locales lies the ancient concept that these sacred environs offer an ideal witness to the illusions and immorality of the world (Cunningham, 1999, p. 78), transmitted through the monastic tradition of solitude. The desert is an uninhabited wasteland, and because of its lack of value to men, it is of supreme value to God. It is the dwelling place for a Christian contemplative seeking to encounter God9 as a solitary individual, because it was created to be itself, not to be transformed by humans into something else (Merton, 1956, p. 56 – 8). The solitary is dependent on no one but God in the desert, with no distracting project standing between herself and the Creator. Similarly, meditating in the cave, empty shrine or spreading tree (The Way of Bodhisattva, 8: 26), Shantideva is rhapsodic of the peaceful woodlands that are haunt of stag and bird (8: 25), and where his attention will not be diverted by worldly folk (8: 34 – 36). Here, no dissension jars him (8: 25) and fear and attachment to things (8: 28, 27) are naturally absent.10 For reasons such as these, a contemplative’s orientation to interior solitude becomes more fruitful when she experiences the exterior conditions of the desert and forest.

However, it is interior solitude that is the most important and difficult aspect to cultivate, for solitude does not entail mere physical isolation. Rather, the interior facet constitutes the much more important “forgetfulness of the self” (Cunningham, 1999, p. 79). Interior solitude is completely different to the “meaningless, chaotic atomized” solitude of mass society (Merton, 1968, p. 52). The latter is a matter of alienation that consists of “attachment to

8 Solitude is an interior attitude, first and foremost. It is always possible to experience solitude amidst the buzz

of the city.

9 “The desert was the region in which the Chosen People had wandered for forty years, cared for by God alone.

They could have reached the Promised Land in a few months if they had travelled directly to it. God’s plan was that they should learn to love Him in the wilderness and that they should always look back upon the time in the desert as the idyllic time of their life with Him alone.” (Merton, 1956, p. 18)

10 Throughout his life, the Buddha Shakyamuni also enjoyed an affinity for the forest. As Gautama, he attained

enlightenment under the refuge of the Bodhi tree and spent much of his teaching life in natural environments of similar serenity.

16

material things for their own sake, love of wealth and power” (1968, p. 54), something that Merton and Shantideva already warn against in the dimension of detachment. This alienation results in either the arrogance of the powerful, or the passive servility of “functionaries” who participate in a power structure as “utensils” in order to enjoy a glimpse of the power they crave. “Modern man,” or the unreflective man who refuses to see the value of interior solitude, surrenders himself to be used as an instrument, and becomes centred on his alienated, empty self, no longer alive with passionate convictions or compassion. (1968, p. 54) His instinctual life becomes a life of either fear or cruel perversity. More commonly, through alienation, it is shocked into insensitivity. In this meaningless solitude, numbness and inertness overwhelm spiritual creativity, leading to the materialist “untruth” (1968, p. 54) that all contemplatives warn against adamantly.

By contrast, interior solitude is the possibility to recover “mysterious sources of hope and strength” (1968, p. 53). To use Christian metaphor, it is the ability to hear the “voice in the wilderness” (1968, p. 52), or to become aware of the suffering and potential of the human condition. The practice of solitude can even be an invisible expression of love to provide a mute witness to society over the acceptance of social fictions (Merton, 1961, p. 193). In fact, only when a person truly encounters the dark, inner solitude of her own troubled heart, is she empowered to reach out to all people and the world in tranquil love and freedom. Therefore, both Merton and Shantideva, while conceding the importance of physical solitude (it certainly helps contemplatives and monastics), it is the interior facet of solitude that provides the most urgent and crucial messages to the deeper religious life. As this chapter of the essay shall attempt to demonstrate, in respect to abandoning the layers of deceptions and masks of the conflicted, egotistic self, Merton and Shantideva’s objectives within the dimension of solitude are strikingly similar in ambition and scope.

As already observed, “solitude” is a term with multi-faceted meanings and denotes more than a physical state of aloneness, although that is an important facet. In the contemplative traditions, the aspect of solitude is similar to the more “basic” rubric of detachment insofar that they are interconnected, although there is, as already noted, a physical absence that is realized in solitude as opposed to detachment, where there is only an intellectual resolution to engage in physical absence. Solitude is also not merely a hallmark of contemplative religion (although it occupies a unique place): it is pertinent to a spectrum of religious practices. Still, Merton cautions that solitude is by definition a difficult task, because it entails interior and exterior aloneness, the foremost being “the disconcerting task of facing and accepting one’s own absurdity” (1961, p. 179). His most important observations of solitude come from his essay “Notes for a Philosophy of Solitude,” in his book Disputed Questions (1961, pp. 177 – 207). Within it, he explains how solitude provides the foundation for a contemplative’s insight into reality and the transcendent.

For him and Shantideva, the reality of solitude begins from the unavoidable reality of death. Of course, all religious and philosophical movements reflect on death and its profound implications, but the contemplative traditions infuse this inevitable phenomenon of life with a significance of spiritual solitude and religious self-discovery. To put it starkly, human beings are born alone into a troubled world and shall die alone. Every individual person, no matter

17

how connected he or she may seem, is really a solitary, “held by the inexorable limitations of his own aloneness” (1961, pp. 180 – 1). Merton further points out that each person must not only die alone, but also, ultimately, live alone (p. 181). This poignant fact is echoed very strongly by Shantideva (The Way of Bodhisattva, 2: 40, 61). He points out the reality of solitude in a stark, confronting manner, not forgetting to list the moral hindrances that accompany the timeless existential questions:

“The thought came never to my mind / That I too am a brief and passing thing. / And so, through hatred, lust, and ignorance, / I have committed many sins. / Never halting night or day, / My life drains constantly away, / And from no other source does increase come. / How

can there not be death for such as me?” (2: 38 – 39).

He argues, like Merton, that we discover solidarity in the solitude of death (Merton, 1961, p. 181). The contemplative acknowledges that the universal impermanence of the body reflects the inevitable parting of company: “This body, now so whole and integral, / This flesh and bone that life has knit together, / Will drift apart and disintegrate, / And how much more will friend depart from friend?” (The Way of Bodhisattva, 8: 31). The milestone of death and parting, somewhat ironically, unites human beings and their experiences, leaving nothing save their virtuous or unmeritorious consciences at the end of life (2: 36 – 37). Shantideva notes that the dreamlike nature of living unites people in the urgency for spiritual freedom (6: 57 – 59). He uses the following analogy: even if one person experiences a long, happy dream and the other a mere instant’s joy, both will eventually awake, and their happiness subsequently extinguished. This is a comparison to the united condition of mortality: rich or poor, happy or unhappy, we all die alone and walk naked to the afterlife with nothing by our side, except for our merit and our sins: “Alone we’re born, alone we come into the world, / And when we die, alone we pass away” (9: 32). Therefore, Merton and Shantideva’s strong and consistent emphases on the common condition of death, as well as its implications of solitariness, is a shared thread in their contemplative experience of solitude.

Because Disputed Questions is an earlier work than his later reflections on the common strains between Christian and Buddhist thought, Merton’s distinction between “pagan” conceptions of contemplative solitude and Christian solitude is sharper and perhaps sterner and harsher (1961, p. 192). This, along with many of his other ideas, undergoes evolution in his essay Rebirth and the New Man in Christianity. In Rebirth he proposes that the interior, contemplative aspect of Christianity will be intelligible to Asians familiar with their own traditions’ deeper facets – more so, in fact, than the Western “spiritual will-to-power,” which has “tended toward an over-emphasis on will, on action, on conquest, and on ‘getting things done.’” This has resulted in a sort of religious restlessness, pragmatism, and the worship of visible results” (1985, p. 202). And ultimately, he too acknowledges the common experiential possibilities between contemplative Christianity and Eastern schools: “For the religions of Asia have also sought to liberate man from imprisonment in a half-real external existence in order to initiate him into the full and complete reality of an inner peace which is secret and beyond explanation [my emphasis]” (1985, p. 202). Many more examples can be found in his writing that details this change of heart. This change of heart comes from his contemplative

18

core, which acknowledges dimensions such as detachment and solitude to be experiential threads running through various traditions.

The later Merton, perhaps, would also have had less qualms in touching common ground with Shantideva, especially when one refers back to Shantideva’s chapter entitled “Confession.” Shantideva not only acknowledges his ultimate solitariness in the paradoxical presence of the Buddhas, but also connects their transforming teachings with his own vocation to the world as a monastic (The Way of the Bodhisattva, 2: 8 – 9). Furthermore, in a more general sense, the attainment of prajna is to attain a mental stillness in which conceptual elaboration is dismantled, which brings an insight beyond thought construction. This is the ground for the experience of shunyata, or emptiness (9: 34). Emptiness, in the Buddhist experience, does not denote a sense of nothingness or nihilism, but is the profound realization of suchness (tathata), or ultimate truth, beheld as the realm of reality in which one sees the total cosmos’s radical interpenetration of all that is.11 This experience is a feature of the solitary dimension in which the lone struggle leaves one with no intellectualizing questions and disputes (Merton, 1955, p. 223). It entails a consistent action or habit of finding one’s solitary centre of being amidst the hurly-burly of a violent and impatient world driven by base impulses and deluded thoughts. This can be said to be the concrete aspect of living within the walls and gardens of the monastery.

The way to contemplation is an obscurity so obscure that it is no longer even dramatic. There is nothing left in it that can be grasped and cherished as heroic or even unusual. And so, for a contemplative, there is supreme value in the ordinary routine of work and poverty and hardship and monotony that characterize the

lives of all the poor and uninteresting and forgotten people in the world (Merton, 1957, pp. 97 – 8).

It has become apparent that the search for the “true self,” for Merton, was another fundamental facet of contemplation. He used true self as a contemporary synonym for the Pauline metaphors of dying to the old and rising in the new. The change indicates a new way of being in the world, or a new perspective on life (Cunningham, 1999, p. 81). It was to be found by discarding the conventional, inauthentic self through a persistent and profound engagement with God in solitude (Merton, 1961, p. 206).

Shantideva was also concerned with liberating the individual from her false self and exposing her to the interconnectedness of all beings, which is an entirely different and broader perspective of the universe’s being. He taught many different techniques of meditation for this purpose. His most systematic and complex method, exchanging self and other, touches experience directly, with relatively little reference to Buddhist metaphysics or doctrines.12

11 I choose to also use the Chinese term of “interpenetration,” although it is absent in Indian terminology,

because it is the “positive” emphasis of the word “emptiness.” They are one and the same, but the word “emptiness” alone does not necessarily emphasize the matrix of interconnection that is envisaged in the contemplative traditions.

12 By contrast to his meditation on compassion, in which it is assumed that the meditator has accepted the

teaching of rebirth, and accordingly reflects on the poignant idea that all suffering beings have at one time been

19

“[verse 90] Two things are to be practiced on the level of relative bodhichitta: meditation on the equality of self and other and meditation on the exchange of self and other. Without training in the former, the latter is impossible. This is why Shantideva says that we should first meditate strenuously on the equality of self and other; for without it, a perfectly pure altruistic attitude cannot arise… As it is said, “Whoever casts aside the ordinary, trivial view

of self, will discover the profound meaning of great ‘Selfhood’” (Pelden, 2007, pp. 282 – 283).

This exchange is furthermore seen by Shantideva to be the most important aspect of the contemplative’s path, in which wisdom and compassion unite to bring bodhichitta, the enlightened state of mind, to fruition. “Those desiring to be / A refuge for themselves and others, / Should make the interchange of “I” and “other,” / And thus embrace a sacred mystery” (8: 120). As his most significant contribution to the contemplative dimensions of detachment and solitude, the self-other-exchange’s sacred mystery results in the culmination of that which is beyond explanation. This wordless experience is “experiential emptiness,” in which one experiences the suffering of others as one’s own, very real pain (Introduction to The Way of the Bodhisattva, 2006, p. 18). Empathy naturally and instantly arises for the contemplative who is able to realize this universal truth. The language that he uses to describe this liberation from the false self and into the freedom of inner peace is virtually identical to Merton’s when he relates his being to other people. He writes: “My solitude however is not my own… when I am alone they are not “they” but my own self… If only they could all see themselves as they really are” (Merton, 1989, p. 140). For him, the soul that manages to find itself in solitude gravitates towards the desert yet does not object to staying in the city, because it is already alone everywhere. Like Shantideva, he saw in solitude an interior unity of which the mass of humanity was ignorant. For even the most connected of people in the modern world, this unity was unknown. Even those who entered and knew it by “unknowing.”

This particular manner of solitude that abandons the false self is grounded, as already mentioned, in the contemplative’s relationship with the Absolute. This may seem similar to the previously mentioned and largely untenable connection of faith, but rather than existing as a set of philosophical and institutional declarations, this experiential approach to contemplating the divine or transcendent uniquely belongs to monastics or contemplative observers immersed in the solitary dimension. It is an intimate confrontation with the infinite unknown. In Shantideva’s example, the only way to overcome his deluded nature and suffering itself is to abandon all other artificial forms of safety in the world and take refuge in the Buddhas, the guardians of beings (The Way of the Bodhisattva, 2: 47). His chapter on Confession admits his sins and misdeeds in endless past lives in the presence of the Buddhas, because there is a direct relationship with the absolute and the relative: “The great compassionate lords consider as themselves / All beings – there’s no doubt of this. / Those whom I perceive as beings are Buddhas in themselves; / How can I not treat them with respect?” (6: 126). The transcendent is that which is already master of the perfect exchange of self and other, so his relationship to it in solitude opens the contemplative to not merely an aesthetic extrapolation of intellectual principles and dogma (Merton, 1968, p. 222), but a

one’s loving mother.

20

transcendent union of consciousness that is characterized by an intensification of total awareness, not properly contained in a particular vision but in non-vision, that attains the totality of all meaning (1968, p. 223). In Shantideva, this is attained systematically and outlined throughout The Way of Bodhisattva, in which the exchange of self and other, preceded by confession and concluded by dedication, is the “method” by which this consciousness is attained.

But like Merton, Shantideva stresses that the practitioner is always in aloneness as well as communion. Merton argues that the “dying Christian is one with the Church, but also suffers the loneliness of Christ’s agony in Gethsemani” (Merton, 1961, p. 181). Merton adds to this the idea of silence, which composes a part of the solitary path to the hidden, living God. He writes that God is best understood as Love found in solitude, which is the spatial and inner gate to receiving the will of God. This silence resonates with the Zen Buddhist idea of abandoning words to listen to the interior stillness of truth that lies beyond conceptual knowledge. It also highlights the central importance of love in religious solitude and silence, disproving the idea that solitude is something that is practiced independent of a contemplative’s relation to the world.

Christianity is a religion of the Word. The Word is Love. But we sometimes forget that the Word emerges first of all from silence. When there is no silence, then the One Word which God speaks is not truly heard as Love. Then only “words” are heard. “Words” are not love, for they are many and Love is One. Where there are many words, we lost consciousness of the fact that there is really only One Word. The One Word which God speaks is Himself. Speaking, he manifests Himself as infinite Love… So silent is His speech that, to our way of thinking, His speech is no-speech, His hearing is no-hearing… Even though one may be a learned man and may have profound knowledge of many subjects, and many “words,” this is of no value, it has no central meaning… if the One Word, Love, has not been heard. That One Word is heard only in the silence and solitude of the empty heart, the selfless, undivided heart, the heart that is at peace,

detached, free, without care (Merton, 1985, pp. 1 – 19).

A lack of silence beyond the words of religion can mean that God, despite his eternal presence, is not always heard. In silence, God’s Word is clearer and can be attended to more mindfully. Without silence, there is little God and Love. Only words and actions prevail, and there is no religion but mere religious ideology (Merton, 1985, p. 20). Through silence and solitude the contemplative is capable of abandoning “all falsity and all illusion and all pretense and all sham.” They abandon themselves, transcending their self and rising beyond themselves, where they hear the voice of God. It is an experience (Introduction to The Way of the Bodhisattva, 2006, pp. 18 – 19) of contemplation, a mind that has ceased to cling to not only defilements, but also lingering concepts through the wisdom of emptiness (The Way of Bodhisattva, 9: 47 – 8). It is the experience of a voice “no longer the voice of a philosophical intuition, no longer the echo of the words of divine revelation, but the very substance of reality itself” (Merton, 1957, p. 171).

21

The practice of solitude is an implicit acknowledgement of true religion’s danger of being distorted by whimsical, blind intuition or frenetic, emotional submission to charismatic leaders or ideology. The vocation of a monk, in a manner similar to the detachment rubric, prohibits him from selecting the choices the world has to offer, or the chances to choose sides (1957, p. 174). They are but temptations; the objective is solitude alone. The contemplative’s cultivation of faith in the solitary dimension also signifies that pure interior solitude is found in the virtue of hope: religious hope that brings the contemplative out of the world whilst she remains in it bodily (Merton, 1955, p. 223). This communication is the essence of all religion, and this is ultimately oriented towards the Absolute. For Shantideva, his solitude is practiced in homage and gratitude to his spiritual guardian, the bodhisattva of wisdom, Mañjushrî. In his final chapter of Dedication, his final acknowledgment before he completes his magnificent poem is to the bodhisattva that transmitted the Dharma to him.

“And till, through Manjughosha’s perfect kindness, / I attain the ground of Perfect Joy, / May I remember all my lives / And enter into the monastic state. / Thus may I abide, sustained / By

simple, ordinary fare. And in every life obtain / A dwelling place in perfect solitude” (The Way of Bodhisattva, 10: 52 – 3).

The similarity found here is the liberation found within loneliness, through which a monastic’s self-disclosure and resolve are witnessed by the presence of their subject of devotion (Introduction to The Way of the Bodhisattva, 2006, p. 8). It indicates that the presence of the Absolute is found more intensely in solitary devotion as opposed to other environments of scattered attentions and desires. “The way of prayer brings us face to face with the sham and indignity of the false self that seeks to live for itself alone” (Merton, 1996, pp. 24 – 5). In the same way, Kunzang Pelden comments on the practice of confession that:

Shantideva, henceforth and for all his lives to come, makes a constant and uninterrupted offering of his own body, which is so dear and necessary to him. He begs the supreme heroes, the Buddha and Bodhisattvas… to accept him completely and to adopt him as their own. Having thus become their respectful subject in body, speech and mind, he pledges himself to fulfill their wishes. [verse 9]… although he is himself still in samsara, he will work for the benefit of others, undaunted by the suffering of existence. He promises to accomplish the

welfare and happiness of beings (Pelden, 2007, p. 69).

The intense devotion of Shantideva is why Brassard asserts there is no substantial difference between devotion and meditation, nor are devotional practices a prerequisite for meditation on emptiness (Brassard, 2000, p. 136). Consequently, it is important to note Shantideva’s idea of approaching the sacred reality in relation to his vocation as a monk (The Way of Bodhisattva, 2: 8 – 9). This is the shared vocation between monastics, and between Merton and Shantideva in particular: to draw closer to transcendence amidst all the facets of aloneness they experience.

Solitude ultimately culminates in self-loss. For Anne Carr, self-loss means the loss of the deluded self that believes itself to be separate from and independent of other people or God (Carr, 1988, p. 125). Ultimately, she stresses that the outcome of this shared overcoming of

22

the false self is found in the theological level of the Christian mystical tradition, or the metaphysical level in Buddhist Nirvana (Carr, 1988, p. 125). This is a powerful and significant statement, and one that would radically change one’s understanding of the religious experience, should one agree with it. At an extreme level, there may even occur a re-evaluation of traditional understandings of comparative contemplation in meditation or prayer. This is, however, treading the ground of speculation and is not the main thrust of this essay. It is enough to have established that the experiential facets of the solitary dimension runs deep in both masters and that they hold important significance currently not recognized.

23

4.0 CONCLUSION AND FURTHER DEVELOPMENTS

In this paper’s introduction and its overview of the contemplative dimensions, it was emphasized that detachment and solitude are common rubrics shared by Merton and Shantideva according to the definitions of monasticism that Merton initially set the scene of dialogue with. These definitions are: a “detachment from the concerns of worldly life and a monastic solitude,” a “preoccupation with the inner depth of one’s religious beliefs,” the experimental “ground” of those beliefs, and a “deepening of consciousness toward a discovery of a transcendent dimension of life beyond that of the ordinary empirical self and of ethical and pious observance” (“Marxism and Monastic Perspectives:” talk delivered at Bangkok on December 10, 1968 from Merton, 1974, pp. 326 – 343, and Notes for a paper to have been delivered at Calcutta, October 1968 in Merton, 1974, p. 309 – 310). It has been demonstrated that the common ground between Merton and Shantideva correspond directly to these demarcations of dialogue, and that through the contemplative dimensions, these spiritual masters indeed share deep and multifaceted religious ideas that are robustly in agreement.

In this conclusion, it is ideal to summarize the rubrics to clarify their significance in abandoning falsehood and discovering a transcendent consciousness. The dimension of detachment has already been defined as the inner distancing of oneself from things unbeneficial or harmful to the spiritual path, leading to different aspects of renunciation at play in the monastic life. The first quality that Merton and Shantideva share is their deliberate and systematic disassociation from the “bread and circuses of society” (Merton) or “childish company” (Shantideva). This is followed by a subsequent renunciation of falseness, in all its forms, towards oneself and in relation to others. From this detachment, the practical dimension of solitude becomes the rubric that dismantles the artificial barriers that keep the individual from communion with his or her fellow sentient beings. The ground shared by Merton and Shantideva consists of the acknowledgment of the aloneness of death and its confrontation of the fundamental absurdity of the deluded self, which is the beginning point of the liberation from this falsehood that results in a transformation of consciousness. The presence of the Absolute is also approached and discovered within solitude, so that by withdrawing from the world, one may serve it better.

In this dialogue, the two spiritual masters communicate to two spheres: to the sphere of the religious monastic, and to the sphere of the pious practitioner: a believer who, while not necessarily a monastic, has been drawn into these deeper dimensions of religion in order to devote herself to her faith more authentically. From the Christian perspective, Merton expresses beautifully the importance of contemplation as a mark of the fully mature spiritual life (Merton, 1976, p. 12). It is the summit of life, the perfection of love, knowledge, and the sudden, intuitive penetration of what really is – or who really is (1976, pp. 9 – 10). The significance of contemplation’s role in providing dimensions of authentic and honest spiritual maturity can never be underestimated. This is a shared reality in Buddhist and Christian

24

monasticism, from which some of the most subtle and complex teachings of the two traditions emerge.

It is important to understand that the detached and solitary dimensions are not the only means of rapport between Merton and Shantideva. There currently exists what I would identify as an “affinity of absence.” A crucial difference between the two writers that has become more pronounced after this study is that they both lack certain dimensions, and these dimensions can be opened or at least proposed in their religious traditions on the basis of this harmonious dialogue. For example, as I explained earlier in the paper, the writing of Shantideva lacks a prophetic dimension. The ideas of Merton, which address the most urgent issues of the modern age, place great weight on the righteousness of the prophetic tradition and its timeless protests against the world’s injustices. He wrote and advised things that were, in many senses, intimate to the entire Christian story and beyond. His powerful reflections on healing the wounds of injustice can bring out a new emphasis of Shantideva’s compassion to the forefront of Buddhist practice.

At the same time, however, Merton saw in Buddhism a deep dimension of self-awareness that was missing in the American Christianity of his time. It was apparent that while he remained true to the Catholic tradition, he identified many things that were wrong with the American Catholicism of his culture, and did not hesitate to criticize these shortcomings in his writing (Cunningham, 1999, p. 198). The experience of American Christianity, for him, had not only become the experience of an Anglo-Saxon, Western, imperialistic “civilizing” culture, with structures that were Christian in name only (Merton, 1976, p. 106), but of a perverse phenomenon of a deplorable cult of modern idols (1968, p. 202). He lamented Americans’ lack of spiritual and Christlike awareness in the same way he lamented the stereotypes of the only practice that could liberate them from their complacent ignorance: “Why do we think of the gift of contemplation… as something essentially strange and esoteric reserved for a small class of almost unnatural beings and prohibited for everyone else?” (Merton, 1975, p. 95). He wrote frequently of contemplation in a world that had lost control, and much of it was directed against what he saw as prejudices, contradictions, confusion and violence in American society. He believed that the Christian mind of his day needed more sources of nourishment, expansion, and education. This may have partly contributed to his expanded appreciation of non-Catholic forms of Christianity and non-Christian religions, and such an expanded appreciation was the foundation for a heightened consciousness of common experiential dimensions. It can be recalled that he greatly admired two Buddhists, D.T. Suzuki and Thich Nhat Hahn, whose dialogue with Christianity uncovered for them their own interesting parallels in religious experience, such as the resonance of mindfulness with the Christian vocabulary of the purity of heart (Cunningham, 1999, p. 150). He saw in Zen experience a crucial rubric of self-awareness that transcended Buddhist doctrines and that could be realized in Christian thought. As the rubrics of detachment and solitude demonstrated, the contemplation of Shantideva offers dimensions of self-awareness that are different in emphases to Zen, and can offer new perspectives to the deeper psychological depths already discovered in Buddhist-Christian dialogue.

25

In summarizing, Merton already shares the contemplative dimensions of detachment and solitude with Shantideva, but Shantideva’s monasticism can benefit from a “prophetic” dimension whilst the conventionally unfamiliar tradition of Christian contemplation benefits from a dimension of “self-awareness.” These unique rubrics can undoubtedly form the basis for continued dialogue between Merton and Shantideva, and from what this paper has hopefully demonstrated, the possibilities seem promising indeed. Contemplation remains significant to the authenticity and life of religious practice, and within the dimensions of detachment and solitude, there blossoms a legitimate, powerful and urgent call to dismantle the falsehood and delusions that authentic religions seek to shatter. Merton and Shantideva both refer to this as the attainment of a superior human potential. Coming full circle back to the Buddhist and Christian interfaith premises of this dialogue, it is the monastic contemplative’s task in the world to articulate this level of reality that is not merely a healthier psychological state, but an inner transformation and deepening of consciousness (Merton, 1974, pp. 309 – 310).

26

5.0 BIBLIOGRAPHY

List of works by Shāntideva and Madhyamaka Buddhism

Shāntideva (2006) The Way of the Bodhisattva. Trans. Padmakara Translation Group. Boston, London: Shambhala

Shantideva (1971) Siksha-samuccaya: A Compendium of Buddhist Doctrine. Translated from the Sanskrit by Cecil Bendall and W.H.D. Rouse. Bungalow Road, Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass

List of works by Thomas Merton

- (1941 – 1952) Entering the Silence: Becoming a Monk and a Writer (The Journals, Vol. 2). San Francisco: Harper

- (1955) No Man is an Island. London: Hollis and Carter

- (1956, 1958) Thoughts in Solitude. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux

- (1957) Seeds of Contemplation. London: Burns and Oates

- (1957) The Silent Life. New York: Farrar, Staus and Cudahy

- (1961) Disputed Questions. Originally published in 1953. London: Hollis and Carter

- (1964) Seeds of Destruction. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux

- (1967) Mystics and Zen Masters. New York: Farrar, Staus and Cudahy

- (1968) Zen and the Birds of Appetite. New York: New Directions

- (1968) Faith and Violence: Christian Teaching and Christian Practice. Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press

- (1973) Contemplation in a World of Action. Gordon City, New York: Image Books

- (1974) The Asian Journal of Thomas Merton, e.d. Naomi Burton, Brother Patrick Hart and James Laughlin. London: Sheldon Press

- (1975) Spiritual Direction and Meditation and What is Contemplation?. Wheathampstead, Hertfordshire: Anthony Clarke

- (1976) The New Man. London: Burns and Oates

- (1978) Seven Storey Mountain. New York: Harcourt Brace

27

- (1985) Love and Living. San Diego, New York, and London: Harcourt Brace Jonanovich

- (1989) Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander. Fifth Avenue, New York: Image Books, Doubleday

- (1996) Contemplative Prayer. Broadway, New York: Doubleday

Other Sources

Stephen Anacker, ‘The Meditational Therapy of the Madhyantavibhagabhasya,’ in Kiyota, Minoru (1978) Mahayana Buddhist Meditation: Theory and Practice. Honolulu: The University Press of Hawaii, p. 83 – 113

Beyer, Stephan (1974) The Buddhist Experience: Sources and Interpretations. Encino, California and Belmont, California: Dickenson Publishing Company, Inc.

Brassad, Francis (2000) The Concept of Bodhicitta in Santideva’s Bodhicaryavatara. Albany: State University of New York Press

Clayton, Barbara (2005) Moral Theory in Shantideva’s Siksasamuccaya: Cultivating the Fruits of Virtue. Madison Avenue, New York: Routledge

Carr, Anne E. (1988) A Search for Wisdom and Spirit: Thomas Merton’s Theology of the Self. Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press

Cunningham, Lawrence S. (1999) Thomas Merton and the Monastic Vision. Grand Rapids, Michigan/Cambridge, U.K.: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company

Dayal, Har (1999) The Bodhisattva Doctrine in Buddhist Sanskrit Literature. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers Private Ltd.

Finley, James (1978) Merton’s Palace of Nowhere: A Search for God through Awareness of the True Self. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press

Gunn, Robert J. (2000) Journeys into Emptiness: Dogen, Merton, Jung, and the Quest for Transformation. New York: Paulist Press

Gross, Rita (1993) Buddhism After Patriarchy: A Feminist History, Analysis, and Reconstruction of Buddhism. Albany: State University of New York Press.

Hiriyanna, M. (1995) The Essentials of Indian Philosophy. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass

Tripitaka Master Hua (1980) The Heart of Prajna Paramita Sutra with Verses Without a Stand. Translated by the Buddhist Text Translation Society. San Francisco: The Sino-American Buddhist Association

Kawamura, Leslie (e.d.) (1997) The Bodhisattva Doctrine in Buddhism. Delhi, India: Sri Satguru Publications

28

Kelsang Gyatso, Geshe (2000) Meaningful to Behold: The Bodhisattva’s Way of Life. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers Private Limited

Kiyota, Minoru (1978) Mahayana Buddhist Meditation: Theory and Practice. Honolulu: The University Press of Hawaii

Kunzang Pelden (2007) The Nectar of Manjushri’s Speech: A Detailed Commentary on Shāntideva’s Way of the Bodhisattva. Trans. Padmakara Translation Group, Boston, London: Shambhala

Mutri, T.R.V. (1960) The Central Philosophy of Buddhism: A Study of the Madhyamaka System. Museum Street, London: George Allen & Unwin Ltd.

Schroeder, John (2001) Skillful Means: The Heart of Buddhist Compassion. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press

Suzuki, D.T. (1970) Shin Buddhism: Japan’s major religious contribution to the West. Ruskin House, Museum Street: George Allen & Unwin Ltd.

Yamamoto, Kosho (1965) The Other-Power: The Final Answer Arrived at in Shin Buddhism. Oyama, Ono-ku, Ube City, Yamaguchi-ken: The Karinbunko

Williams, Paul (1989) Mahayana Buddhism: The Doctrinal Foundations. London and New York: Routledge

The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life, (Plenaria of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes, 4-7 March 1980) in http://www.vatican.va/roman_curia/congregations/ccscrlife/documents/rc_con_ccscrlife_doc_12081980_the-contemplative-dimension-of-religious-life_en.html, retrieved on April 16th, 2009.

29