


"The Buddha said to Ananda, "Devas and humans in the worlds of the ten directions who sincerely aspire to be born in that land can be classified into three grades. ..." The Buddha said to Ananda, "The lower grade of aspirants are the devas and humans of the ten directions who sincerely desire to be born in that land. Although unable to do many meritorious deeds, they awaken aspiration for the highest Enlightenment and single-mindedly concentrate on Amitayus even ten times, desiring birth in his land. When they hear the profound Dharma, they joyfully accept it and do not entertain any doubt; and so, remembering the Buddha even once, they sincerely aspire to be born in that land. When they are about to die, they will see the Buddha in a dream. Those aspirants, too, will be born in the Pure Land."
("The Three Pure Land Sutras: A Study and Translation from Chinese" by Hisao Inagaki in Collaboration with Harold Stewart, Nagata Bunshodo: Kyoto, 1995. pgs. 268-70.)
Doubt has always been of central concern to any religious teaching that proscribes a devotional path to realization. Shinran Shonin wrote many wasans about doubt as being a hindrance to birth in the Pure Land. These were primarily concerned with doubting the efficacy of Amida Buddha's vow to offer enlightenment to all sentient beings. During this time, it must be remembered that there were heated debates as to whether the Nembutsu; the practice of saying the name of Amida Buddha, had enough merit within it to successfully accomplish the Vow's intention. Another facet to this that we should also remind ourselves of is that historically these debates take place in a context in which the person debating never doubted his individual need for the teachings.
In our modern day, where a more skeptical world view is prevalent, the need for a religious component in one's life has largely been dismissed. I do not know about other places; but in Ontario, when I was growing up, it seemed that there was a more loose, general morality being espoused. I guess the idea was; "I hold down a regular job. I do not beat my wife, or kids. I have never killed anyone. I must be a shoe-in for salvation." According to this standard, most of us have, thus far, done pretty well for ourselves. The draw of this style of thinking is obvious; this morality is relatively easy to maintain and gives us a basis from which to pat our own backs.
If we take this "common morality" to be the standard by which we should live our lives, all seems fine at the outset; but, in the end, we wind up cutting ourselves off from a well-spring of love and acceptance that seeks to awaken us to its presence at all times. The impediment is doubt. "I do fine; I try to be nice (when it suits me), I try to do the right thing (when it is at all possible). Why do I need a God, or a Buddha to extend his assistance to me?"
Jodo Shinshu is a devotional form of the Buddhist teaching. It derives its depth and power to transform one's life from the feelings that come about when we face the really hard questions; "Have I ever really actualized the ideals that I espouse? Am I actually nice, or is this just a facade; a set of learned behaviours that seem to get me what I want?" It is in the encountering the discomfort inherent in a deep inner search that propels us to huge feelings of relief, comfort and gratitude, when it finally dawns on us that the greater reality that was always around us; does in fact exist, has at its core an active compassionate motion and, most importantly, is intimately and deeply concerned with reaching out to each and every one of us.
The problem with what I call the "common morality" is that it gives us the perfect excuse to avoid the questions that will contribute to our growth, both as human beings, and as spiritual ones. It offers an "ego-salve" to soothe our aches, as we go about the process of living; but it offers us no access to the greater, warmer, compassionate reality that we rarely see and feel.
It might be good for each of us to look into ourselves, sometime in the next few days, and ask;
"How do I value my religion and its role in my life? Is it something that I truly feel that I
need, or is it more like an interesting component of my life that I could just as easily live
without? Do I, in fact, doubt my own need for any religious belief at all? The answer may
surprise even the most devoted of us. The "common morality" feeds our egos, so it is able
to slip into our minds unquestioned. It gets in without our even knowing ...
Namuamidabutsu.