This past weekend, as the Contemplative Order of Compassion wrapped-up its General Assembly -- an annual meeting of the entire community to discuss matters of the Order, plan for the coming year, and spend time in fellowship and service to one another -- we celebrated the patronal feast of Francis of Assisi, the reluctant saint. The life of Francis was one in which we find a poignant embodiment of the path taught by the Great Rabbi Yeshua the Nazarene, whom Francis revered as his saviour.
There are, as often happens in the tales of the saints, fanciful explanations of how Francis, enrapt in prayer one morning, received the mythical wounds of the crucified Christ upon his hands, feet, forehead and side. Scholars, including Franciscan scholars, now recognise that it is much more likely that Francis bore the wounds and open sores of leprosy, after spending decades caring for and serving the outcast lepers throughout the Umbrian countryside. He ate and drank from the same bowls as those he served, unafraid of disease, because his heart was near bursting with genuine love and compassion.
Francis, I believe, understood that the mythology and superstition, ritual and refinements of the institutional church were in contrast to the real message... that what the ancients called "God" was, as their own scriptures proclaimed, "Love". And so Francis became the incarnation of that "divine love", and made it visible to all, just as his Beloved Yeshua did.
Now I have no reason not to think that Francis, like most Catholics, actually imagined that the fables of the Christian and Hebrew Bibles were all true and literal accounts. But even with that errant perspective, something deeper about the texts resonated with Francis, and he "got it".
In the gospel attributed to Mark, Rav Yeshua (Jesus) is speaking to his disciples, and says, "To you has been given the secret of the Divine Realm, but for those outside, everything comes in parables." The account goes on to say that although Jesus continued to preach in parables, he would explain those parables in private to his closest disciples. (cf: Mark 4:11-34)
We know that Francis often did the same thing with the friars and sisters.
This tradition of private teaching extends back more than five centuries before the time of Jesus, and is actually mentioned in the Majjhima Nikaya, where we read: "Such talk on the dharma is not given to those clothed in white (lay people). Such talk on the dharma is only given to those who have gone forth (into monastic vows)." (Majjhima Nikaya 143.15)
It wasn't that these great teachers wished to keep the truth from the laity or the uninitiated, but rather that they wanted to ensure that more mystical teachings were properly understood, and so reserved them for those with whom a stronger disciple-teacher bond had been established, and with whom some deeper and more intimate background teaching was already foundationally laid.
This weekend, our community visited many of these same issues -- discussing how best to proceed in sharing the Dharma of Compassion with an ever widening audience, while ensuring that the teaching would always be clearly conveyed.
There were no easy answers at times.
Similarly, we discussed the emotionally-charged question of the role of tradition, ritual, religious habit/robes and traditional titles. There were, once again, no easy answers; as I recognised that wearing the traditional Franciscan habit or Tibetan monk's robes are a public witness to the way of life a monk or nun willingly takes on for life. However, the Franciscan habit was, in Francis' own time, simply the clothing of the poor. And the original monastic robes of the Buddhist monks were made from cloth given to them, and coloured by hand, often piece-meal patchwork.
Unfortunately, as both orders progressed further from their sources, the robes were refined, and so today, a Franciscan habit can cost $200 to $250, while a Buddhist monk's robes can likewise cost $150-$200 as well. It is my belief that such money could be more appropriately spent feeding the hungry.
I still own one somewhat tattered Franciscan habit, one white "universal" monk's robe, and the outer robe from my Buddhist ordination (having recently gifted the saffron to a young man being ordained in New York).
But today, the simple clothes of the poor are denim, t-shirts and jeans, sweat shirts. And as for our public witness, what need is there for us to "show" that we are monastics, if it is not evident in our lives themselves?
Francis of Assisi didn't ask a leper if he or she were Catholic, before feeding them, or redressing their wounds. It didn't matter.
When Mother Teresa of Calcutta opened her first hospice and hospital, in an abandoned Hindu temple, she didn't attempt to convert the Hindu or Muslim, Sikh or Jain to become Catholic... she said that her hope was to inspire the Hindu to become the best Hindu they could be... the Muslim to become the most reverent Muslim... and the Sikh or Jain to become more devout and faithful to their paths.
I don't believe Jesus or Buddha were interested in creating converts to a religion either. In fact, I don't believe either one would be particularly happy to see that their teachings have been distorted and manipulated by some to become "religions" at all.
In the end, the Order decided that we would continue to seek grant funding to establish a small monastic house, where we could care for the sick and the elderly, and live as a grassroots community, dedicated to the teachings of the anointed and enlightened ones... while working to establish a greater interspiritual dialogue between people and cultures.
I lost the "battle" over my desire to dispense with the titles of "Venerable Lama" and "Rinpoche", but the compromise was for the Sangha to try to become more comfortable with permitting me to simply introduce myself without titles, if I wish. (So I formally request that everyone reading our blogs simply consider me your brother, and since brothers are not referred to with honourific titles, you should feel comfortable simply addressing me by my Buddhist or Franciscan monastic names (Gurudas Sunyatananda or Francis-Maria) or even by my secular (former religious) name (Gianmichael). In fact, you can even refer to me the same way that many of the closest friends have taken to doing, which is to simply call me "G" (so that it works for both the secular, religious and Buddhist names).
The most important thing that was discussed and unanimously agreed upon this week was the decision to continue our work to alleviate suffering, true to our monastic vows, and to continue permitting me to teach publicly.
It was, on many levels, a very emotional, at times very painful, and certainly exhausting week, for reasons that I am not at liberty to share at this time, or in this forum. But it was a weekend filled with love, fond memories and hope for a day when we can return to our contemplative roots, in the mountains of the Tennessee Cumberlands.
Namasté!
G
Internationally respected, life coach and teacher, Lama Gurudas Sunyatananda (Dr. F. Gianmichael Salvato, O.C., M.Sc.) is a Buddhist and Franciscan contemplative, and author of the popular book, "The Dharma of Compassion - One Monk's Reflections on the Teachings of the Enlightened and Anointed Ones". He is best known for his on-going contributions to helping people unlock the power of their own minds -- teaching them how to apply that power to create strong, loving relationships, make more money, and live more meaningful, prosperous, health and satisfying lives.
You can join his primary social network and interact with him directly by visiting:
http://www.6dgr.com/index.php?mode=join&refs_id=8412 or by emailing him at: successcoach@prosperityreinvented.com
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