Texts: Psalm 19:1-6 CEV
I Corinthians 12:12-27 CEV
One Body
The man we now call Shakyamuni Buddha was born in northern India about 600 BCE. Probably many of you know that the word ÒBuddhaÓ means Òone who woke up,Ó And ÒShakyamuni means Òthe wise one of the Shakya clan,Ó for his family was of the Shakya clan. The Buddha was the son of a king, and his name was Gotama Siddhartha. When he was born, a seer came to the palace to predict the babyÕs future. The seer said, ÒThis baby is destined to become a great king or, if he sees suffering, a great religious leader.Ó The king, of course, wanted his son to be king. So he protected Siddhartha from seeing or experiencing any kind of suffering. He raised the child in great luxury, giving him the sweetest pomegranates to eat, and the best toys to play with. When Siddhartha grew into manhood, the king gave him a beautiful palace, with flowering trees and sparkling fountains in the courtyard, a large harem of dancing women who also played sweet music, and finely embroidered silk clothing. He arranged for the princeÕs marriage to the most beautiful woman in the land. He was surrounded by music and love. In time, Siddhartha and his bride had a perfect baby boy. And the king arranged that no trace of suffering or death would ever appear within the palace grounds.
But Siddhartha was curious about the outside world. He sneaked out of the palace one night, went to the nearest village, and encountered a sick person whose skin was all covered with sores. He asked one of the villagers, ÒWhatÕs that?Ó The villager said, ÒThatÕs a sick person. DonÕt you know what sickness is?Ó The Buddha said, No.Ó And he went back to the palace and pondered what sickness might be. The next night Siddhartha again sneaked out, and this time he encountered an old man. His face all wrinkled and worn, hobbling down the street with his cane. Buddha again asked a villager, ÒWhatÕs that?Ó The villager responded, ÒThatÕs just an old man. HavenÕt you ever seen an old man before?Ó Buddha said, ÒNo,Ó and he went back to the palace and pondered. The next night, Siddhartha again sneaked out and he encountered a dead body lying on the street. Buddha asked someone, ÒWhat is that?Ó The person replied, ÒHavenÕt you ever seen a dead body before?Ó But he hadnÕt ever seen death before. When he went back to the palace, the young prince realized he could have no peace until he understood what he had seen. What are sickness, old age, and death? What is suffering? And why is there suffering? So, one night, he kissed his beautiful wife and baby goodbye and left the palace for good.
Siddhartha asked a trusted servant to come with him. He rode out into the village, dismounted, exchanged clothes with his servant, and sent the servant and the horse back to the palace. Siddhartha encountered a band of ascetics, and went to live with them.
About six hundred years later, in a very different time and a very different place, another baby boy was born. As legend has it, this baby was also the son of a king. But he was born into a very ordinary working-class family and grew up in the sleepy town of Nazareth. This babyÕs name was, of course, Jesus. We donÕt know much about his childhood, but we do have one story that is suggestive.
When Jesus was about twelve years old, he went with his family, as he may have done many times before, on their annual pilgrimage to Jerusalem, to offer sacrifice at the temple. Now, pretty much all of the able-bodied people in the village went together, as a large group, to Jerusalem. It wouldnÕt have been unusual for a young boy to hang out with his friends and other relatives on the trip. So it wouldnÕt have surprised JesusÕ parents not to have seen their son for a couple of days as they were making the trip home. But on the third day, they realized that Jesus was not with the group, and they headed back to Jerusalem. They hunted all over the city, and as they searched, they grew more and more worried about their boy. Finally, they went back to the temple, and saw him there, talking with the priests and teachers. When his parents saw Jesus, they were exasperated, as parents in this situation so often are. They snapped at him, ÒWhy did you do this to us?Ó But Jesus, probably puzzled, said, ÒDidnÕt you know I have to be here? DidnÕt you know that this is what I am all about?Ó For Jesus, the driving, burning question was, ÒWho is God? Who is God in relation to people? Who am I in relation to God?Ó
When he was about thirty years old, Jesus left home for good. He took nothing with him but the clothes on his back and the sandals on his feet. And he wandered around, sleeping under the sky, eating whatever came his way, and talking with people. He spent long hours in prayer and meditation. If you look at the stories about him, it is clear that he spent much time pondering the question, ÒWho is God? Who am I? How am I related to God?Ó
The Buddha practiced great austerities for many years. According to the legend, he finally was living on one sesame seed a day. He was near death, when a young milkmaid came by and gave him a glass of milk. Against all of his ascetic principles, Buddha drank the milk, and he realized that he could not come to the understanding he sought by practicing asceticism.
Finally the Buddha sat down under the Bo tree, determined not to get up again until he understood suffering. He sat there day and night without moving. Mara, the tempter, came to dissuade Shakyamuni. First Mara sent beautiful women, who danced suggestively and played erotic music, and tried to seduce the Buddha away from his resolve. But Shakyamuni reached down and touched the earth and said, ÒThe earth is my witness. I will not move from this spot until I understand.Ó When that didnÕt work, Mara sent ferocious, fire-breathing dragons to scare Buddha away from his seat. But the Buddha didnÕt budge. Again, he reached down and touched the earth and called the earth to witness that he would not move from his seat until he understood. So Mara left him, and Shakyamuni sat, unmoving, day and night.
One morning, just before dawn, Buddha looked up and saw the morning star, and he came to a great awakening. He immediately said, ÒHow wonderful! How wonderful! I and the great earth and all beings together accomplish the Way.Ó ÒI and the great earth and all beings are enlightened together. How wonderful!Ó In his enlightenment, everything is enlightened.
Now Jesus lived in Israel at a time when it was occupied by Rome. The Romans were always on the lookout for any hint of rebellion, and punished any insurgents swiftly. They brutally and publicly executed, usually by crucifixion, anyone they suspected of rebellion. Many Jews had been executed in this manner already, and Jesus would have seen a number of crucifixions.
Jesus continued to teach. He clearly was a magnetic person, and large crowds were drawn to him. This, by itself, would have made the occupying Romans nervous. They no doubt kept a watchful eye on Jesus. And he was not inhibited in what he said. Jesus was willing to call it as he saw it, and he made many enemies for himself, particularly with those Jewish leaders who were collaborators with Rome. It would not have taken a crystal ball, let alone any supernatural power, to see where all this was headed.
I have often wondered why Jesus didnÕt just quietly go back to Galilee. He had a perfectly good trade. He could have gotten married and lived a long life and died in his bed. But he couldnÕt. Just as Shakyamuni was driven by his need to understand suffering, Jesus was driven by his need to understand and to talk about God. He couldnÕt stop, no matter what the consequences.
It all came to a head one night during Passover. After having supper with his friends, Jesus headed out with them to Gethsemane where he wanted to pray. It was clear that Jesus knew what was coming, and that he was terrified. When they got to the garden, Jesus begged his disciples to stay awake and keep watch, but they fell asleep. Now, the story is not usually told in this way, but I believe that during those anguished hours of prayer, Jesus came to a deep understanding of his relationship with God and of his unity with all people. He had a profound experience of the Oneness of all that is. He went into the garden terrified. He came out strong and bold and resolved. He willingly allied himself with all of humankind, and with all of its sinfulness and pain, and was enabled to continue, even though by now it was certain that he would be killed. Jesus went over to his disciples, woke them up for the third time, and said, ÒTheyÕre coming for me.Ó When the soldiers arrived, Jesus stepped forward and asked, ÒWho are you looking for?Ó When they said, ÒJesus,Ó with great dignity and self-possession, he replied, ÒI am he.Ó Jesus knew he was going to his death, and he had no assurance that it would mean anything at all. That his story would be remembered. That there was any hope at all. Yet, he went.
These two stories end very differently. Jesus was crucified the next day. The Buddha lived to be an old man, and died with his disciples surrounding him.
We have just listened to that beautiful passage in First Corinthians, where Paul offers his vision of the one body. Each of us is a member of that one body. One person may be the nose, another a hand, another an eye. He tells us that each of the members is essential to the functioning of the whole, even the Òless presentable parts,Ó as he calls them. All the parts have need of each other. When one part is in pain, the whole body suffers; when one part is joyful, the whole body shares in that joy. He concludes., ÒNow you are the body of Christ, and you are each a member of it.Ó
But notice, this vision of PaulÕs is limited to those who are baptized into Christ. It is through this baptism that the people are formed into the One Body. I wish PaulÕs vision had been broader Ð it would be so much more convenient for me Ð but it isnÕt. I canÕt put words into his mouth.
The teaching of One Body is central to Buddhism. It appears somewhat more peripheral in Christianity. This statement of PaulÕs is the only succinct account of it that we have in Christianity. But you have to remember that the early Christians were, in fact, all Jews. They were inheritors of the whole tradition of the Hebrew scripture. That scripture underlies all of what they said and taught. And the Hebrew scripture is full of allusions to the One Body, to the unity of God and all creation. In fact, in Paul, we hear echoes of that tradition. He has a sweeping sense of the overarching presence of God and the unity of creation.
In Psalm 19, which we have just heard, the skies ring out the glory of God. There are no words, and yet they are eloquent. There are many such passages in the Hebrew scripture. Isaiah says the people go forth joyously and the mountains shout for joy and the trees clap their hands. While Hosea tells us that the people are lying and swearing, stealing and killing, and murder follows murder. ÒTherefore,Ó says Hosea, Òtherefore, the land mourns,Ó and the beasts and the birds and even the fish languish. In the joy of the people, the earth itself rejoices; because of their sinfulness, the earth itself suffers.
Now, from the study of ecology, we now know that the earth, at least, is a unified whole. One Body. We know that the coal-burning power plants in the Midwest emit gasses that make acid rain in the Northeast that kills the trees. Everything we do affects everything else. Our burning coal increases the carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, which causes global warming. And so on and on. Whatever we do in one place affects the whole planet. But, somehow, we seem to exclude ourselves from that understanding. We have the feeling that we are separate; that we are individuals.
But we sometimes have hints of our interconnectedness. When we see a magnificent sunset, we sometimes lose ourselves in the beauty. There is only Sunset! Or listening to a beautiful piece of music, suddenly there is only Music! We disappear. We become One with the beauty. Or if we see someone about to get hurt, without thinking, we flinch. We feel that pain about to happen. We literally feel it in our own bodies. Or if we see a child running into the street where there is a car coming, we gasp instinctively. There is no thought. We just gasp. And we hold our breath until the moment passes. Or sometimes when we hear of a great tragedy, like the recent deaths of the hostages in Iraq, we feel the pain of those people within ourselves. Our bodies feel sickened. And we physically share the pain of those mourn. Without thinking about it, we have an innate sense that we are One Body.
Now, sometimes, in meditation or just walking down the street, people have a profound realization of the One Body. They suddenly know, without any shadow of a doubt, that all that is, is one giant organism, so to speak. From the greatest whales to the tiniest microbes. From the most enormous galaxies to the smallest subatomic particles. The blossoms in spring and the snows in winter. All beings, all people, that are or ever were or ever will be ourselves included. One Body. One living, breathing, evolving organism. And all suffused with radiant wisdom and compassion. Once you have seen this, the world will never be the same again. It becomes sacred. Or rather, it is sacred, and we recognize that we live within the sacred, the holy. It sparkles with wonder and glistens with joy.
And once we realize the truth of the One Body, once we see how tightly interconnected it is, we become aware that everything we do affects everything else in the universe. Whatever we do or think or say permeates the whole Body, the whole of creation. It is felt by the furthest star. And we see that it matters. What we do matters. It makes a difference. We are not isolated. We do not live by ourselves. We are intimately connected with everything that is. You and I and the furthest galaxy are as intimately connected as my right hand is with my left hand, as my nose with my toes. If I am angry and hateful, I add to the burden of anger and hatred in the whole universe. I directly contribute to that energy that causes the war in Iraq, and all of the hatred and fighting in Israel and Palestine, in Africa, in so many places in the world. But if I am loving and joyful, I lift up the whole universe. I ease the burden of anger for all things and people. I heal the whole universe.
Sometimes we feel so insignificant, that our lives are so meaningless. We get caught up in the daily grind Ð going to work, getting our kids off to school, doing the dishes, and sending in our income taxes. If we are members of the One Body, we feel we must be insignificant little cells somewhere. But that is not so. We are all members of the One Body, and each member is valuable.
Shakyamuni did not think he had done anything miraculous. He had looked deeply inside himself and discovered the Enlightened Nature that we all share. He did not want to found a religion. As he was dying, Buddha told his disciples that they would have to be a refuge unto themselves. It is not clear what JesusÕ self-understanding was, although it also appears the Jesus did not intend to found a religion. I believe that both of them had a sense of themselves as just doing what they had to do. Asking the questions that drove them, and teaching those who came to them. Nothing special.
Now we may not have the impact of Buddha or Jesus, but our lives do make a difference. The choices we make will affect the universe for generations to come. We are each important members of the One Body. Each member is essential to the functioning of the whole. If we fail to do our part, the whole body is diminished. Who we are is valuable. What we do is important. Let us remember this as we go about our daily lives. Who we are matters to the whole universe. What we do matters. It reverberates throughout all space and time. Let us be mindful.