One Truth, Many Paths

What other spiritual traditions tell us about meditation can illuminate our own tradition—and the era in which we live.

By Matthew Fox

Ours is a time of what I call "deep ecumenism": religious pluralism and discovery of one another's spiritual traditions and practices. This development is especially welcome given the ignorance and even arrogance that sometimes drives fundamentalist adherents of one faith to denigrate, convert, or even kill followers of other spiritual paths. An armful of new books examining the contemplative practices of several major spiritual traditions shows us how those practices can help counter that ignorance and sectarian conflict and illuminate the era in which we live.

Beside Still Waters: Jews, Christians, and the Way of the Buddha (Wisdom Publications, 2003)—a collection of essays edited by Harold Kasimow, John P. Keenan, and Linda Klepinger Keenan—provides vivid stories of Jews and Christians who have gone east for spiritual study and then returned to their respective faiths much richer for the experience. Norman Fischer, who codirects a Jewish meditation center in San Francisco, writes that Western seekers who look to the East often find that their newly acquired spiritual perspectives are still missing something that would make their spiritual lives whole. Indeed, the stories in the book reveal a pattern: the loss of an early religious dream, the finding of a new one, and a return to the childhood tradition with a reawakening of wonder and spiritual power. Alan Lew, who calls himself a Zen rabbi, believes that his Zen years taught him "the value of disciplined spiritual practice." Lew has learned from ministering as a rabbi that many Jews feel "betrayed" by their religious faith because it so rarely gives them the direct spiritual experience they seek. From these and other insights in this probing, thoughtful collection, we discover that through the exploration of other practices, we can find a mirror to reflect the lost (or forgotten) elements of our own traditions.

Kim Boykin's Zen for Christians: A Beginner's Guide (Jossey-Bass, 2003) is an excellent introduction to Zen—clear and to the point, practical, respectful, and even humorous at times. However, the author, who converted to Roman Catholicism after practicing Zen for many years, seems to have received superficial instruction as a Catholic; the book fails in its ignorance of the Christian mystical tradition. Boykin compares the teachings on the Buddha nature with the Christian concept of salvation—not with any teachings about the Christ nature in us. She never mentions the Cosmic Christ (the equivalent of Buddha nature) or Original Blessing (the equivalent of original wisdom in Buddhism).

And she misses entirely the opportunity to compare the great medieval Christian mystic Meister Eckhart's teachings on nondualism with those of Buddhism. "Even the Buddha had to awaken to his Buddha nature," she reminds us. Yes, but so did Jesus and so do Christians—which she fails to note.

Boykin's work supports the statement of the Dalai Lama that the principal obstacle to interfaith experience is a bad relationship with one's own faith tradition. One is also reminded of that declaration while reading Christians Talk About Buddhist Meditation, Buddhists Talk About Christian Prayer (Continuum, 2003), edited by Rita M. Gross and Terry C. Muck. In some ways, the book's title is misleading, since the editors confess that very few Buddhists wanted to discuss Christian prayer at all. When you notice the utter ignorance of many of the Christian essayists about their own mystical tradition, you can see why the Buddhists fled the scene. The book contains only very light references to Teresa of Ávila, John of the Cross, and Thérèse of Lisieux, and nothing at all about Eckhart, Thomas Aquinas, Thomas Merton, or Bede Griffiths. The contributors don't seem to know how meditation is different from prayer or how many diverse forms of meditation exist.

Page 1 2 3