In a time when bias, prejudice, sectarianism, and fundamentalism in all religions is on the rise, I’d like to reflect on wise view and non-sectarianism as they apply to our path and practice. Wise view means letting go of clinging to any confined way of thinking or view, and instead, seeing things as they are: impermanent, insubstantial, and dukkha. But rather than holding tightly to a view of “how things are,” we investigate and explore to find out for ourselves.
All religions contain beloved rituals and forms. We don’t have to reject anything – I love Buddhist ways of doing things. But we also can see these ways as forms. We can delight in such things as sitting and walking, chanting and simplicity without being attached to these forms as better than others. Yes, better for me! And maybe for you because you are reading this article. But certainly not for everyone.
When we open in this way – appreciating and delighting in the forms that work for us without disrespecting and denigrating other forms, our hearts open beyond form entirely. From this opening, true love and deep wisdom emerge.
The Sufi teacher, Muhyiddin Ibn Al Arabi, said, “There was a time I would reject those who were not of my faith. But now, my heart has grown capable of taking on all forms. It is a pasture for gazelles, an abbey for monks, a table for the Torah, Kaaba for the pilgrim. My religion is love.”
Similarly, the Dalai Lama says, “My religion is kindness.”
Perhaps one reason so many people were inspired by the monks walking for peace is because they were so open-hearted. Yes, they had very specific monk-like ways that they diligently followed every day. And they were open to whomever they encountered, including those who saw them as misguided and even malevolent. They didn’t answer malevolence with more malevolence; they responded with love and wisdom. They weren’t trying to bring people around to their ways, they were simply walking for peace.
I am immeasurably grateful to our Asian ancestors who sustained the path and practice since the time of the Buddha. We can love our own ways without separating ourselves from the whole human community. May our hearts mature and grow capable of taking on all forms. May our hearts be “a pasture for gazelles, an abbey for monks, a table for the Torah and Kaaba for the pilgrim”. We are all pilgrims, whether we know it or not, and perhaps we are all on the great pilgrimage of finding our way back home.