Where is Mara?

Today, at the church, the House of Hope (HOH), came to the church (Memorial Presbyterian Church, or MPC) told Valley immigrants’ stories.

After the service, we had a potluck, and I sat with Greg, a member working at House of Hope and had interesting conversation.

Greg was a retired Catholic Prists, now working at HOH for social justice.  Then he mentioned that he had visited different religion sites including mosques, synagogues, Sikh temple, etc.

“Have you visited Zendo, or any Buddhist temple?”

“Yes, there is one on Spencer Street?”

“Is Buddhism a religion?”

“Not exactly”.

“Tell me more.  I am intrigued”.

“There are a lot of similarities between Christ and Buddha teaching.  For example, in the Bible, Matthew 1:1-11, Jesus was temped by the devil for 40 days in the wilderness.  In Sanskrit Sutra, Buddha meditated under the Bodhi tree was tempted by demon (Mara).”

“Isn’t that amazing?”  Greg said.

“Yes.  But there is major difference between Christianity and Buddhism.  In Christianity, devil is something external to our body.  But in Buddhism, the demon is inside of us.

According to Buddhism, Mara or demon is our shadow.  Each one of us has seeds of Christ, or Buddha, but also has seeds of demon.  Which seed will manifest depends on which seeds we water.  Thus, each one of us has the potential to become Christ, but also has the potential to become a demon.

Buddhist major practice is to become aware of ourselves, or to be awakening which is the first step to become Christ or Buddha, but not the devil.”

“So, true”.  Greg nodded his head.

I am amazed the retired Catholic priest is quite open-minded.

** Zen Master, Thich Naht Hanh put this thought beautifully in his most famous poem, Calling Me My True Names.  Here are the lines:

I am a frog swimming happily in the clear water of a pond. And I am the grass-snake that silently feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, my legs as thin as bamboo sticks. And I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat, who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea pirate.

And I am also the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my hands. And I am the man who has to pay his “debt of blood” to my people dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.

My joy is like Spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth. My pain is like a river of tears, so vast it fills the four oceans.