Urban Monasticism Interfaith Symposium
The Rabanus Project: The Christianity and Culture Student Association
University of Toronto
Wed. Mar. 6, 7:00pm
Charbonnel Lounge, 81 Saint Mary Street, Elmsley Hall
Moderated and Opening Address by
Sean Hillman B.A., M.A.
Doctoral student, Religion/Bioethics/South Asian Studies
Department for the Study of Religion
Joint Centre for Bioethics
Centre for South Asian Studies
University of Toronto
Venerable clergy, religious leaders and esteemed guests, welcome and I wish you a good evening. It is my very deep privilege to be your moderator for this multifaith symposium on Urban Monasticism, a topic that is very dear to my heart. Much thanks to Leigh Kern and the Rabanus Project of the Christianity and Culture student association at the University of Toronto for inviting me to participate and for organizing this important event. I also want to thank our speakers and panelists in advance for being here to share their insights with us and helping to make this gathering the memorable event that it will become. By happy coincidence I know some of our panelists personally and warmly welcome them to this inter- and intra-faith dialogue about the practice of contemporary monasticism which is one of many sources of common ground between religious traditions, both theistic and non-theistic, a commonality that can only bring about increased understanding, inspiration and harmony while also not losing their own particular flavour. In order of their appearance tonight: Jodie Boyer Hatlem and Steve Grant, The Reverend Bhante Saranapala, Kamalini Devi Dasi and Jason McKinney.
I am going to open the evening with a few words focusing briefly on several themes and sharing a few stories that come out of my experience of being a former monastic, 9 years of the 13 of which were spent as a Tibetan Buddhist monk living in our city of Toronto. Throughout that time, some recurring aspects of that experience were: (1) the uniqueness of monastic practice suited to individual dispositions, (2) relationships with householder city-folk, and (3) the various means of support for monastics.
First I’ll address religious practice. Right up until the final 6 months of my ordination, I really had never questioned my monkhood. The question that did often arise in my mind was, “what to do with my life as a monk?” I generally characterize a Buddhist mendicant lifestyle as having three components which can be engaged in simultaneously, but typically one is emphasized over the others: they are study, meditation and service. As a temple-dweller while in Toronto I mostly engaged in service by way of caring for the ill in hospital settings, something that deeply influenced my spiritual and later my academic life, and the karma-yoga (or service meditation if you will) of helping to build both literally and figuratively, a burgeoning urban temple community of monastics. I used to joke at that time that I could be found in one of three places: the temple, the hospital or the hardware store! During this time I yearned for formal intensive study of scripture and elaborate meditation retreat. To be sure, my original intention to ordain included a vision of being in a grass hut in Thailand, begging for alms. But downtown was where I found myself. I suggested an exchange program with India, but it was deemed that I was needed more for both my financial and physical contributions to the temple. I even proposed returning to university but was appeased by being allowed to take additional palliative care training. I was a proponent of the idea of our community starting a self-sufficient cottage-industry of outreach end-of-life care with the hope that it would eventually become a Buddhist Hospice. Ultimately, this community veered too much from its original mission and I left for India with the express purpose of engaging in purification retreat and studying the texts in Tibetan. Upon reflection, the most blissful times were those when I was fully absorbed in one of these three modes of practice. Bathing my patients as if they were the Buddha Himself. Meditating in a small mud-hut at the feet of the Himalayas. Debating the scriptures with fellow monks under the moonlight. The setting mattered little. The degree of one-pointedness determined the depth of my practice.
Next is the relationship between the monastic and lay-people within the cityscape. The reactions to a tall, lanky white guy with shaven head in burgundy robes ran the gamut. Some of the most memorable:
- while walking through the airport, a fellow traveller hissed: “parasite!”
- from an endearing Native on Queen St., with a shaky bow: “Good evening, Your Honour. What are those clothes you are wearing?”
- crossing the street to get to duty at the hospital, a voice called out: “faggot!”
(I guess they found the ‘dress’ offensive)
- But at Casey House Hospice, a male-nurse very dramatically observed the lower-robe, called Shantub in Tibetan: “I love your dress!” To which I replied: “Thank you! It’s a style 2500 years old!”
- in line at the grocery store: “You’re going to hell!”
- walking the streets in the bustling Givatayim section of Tel Aviv: “KRISHNEH?”
- also in Israel, during the Jewish holiday of Purim where dressing up is common, one merchant told me that he thought I was in a monk costume but then realized I actually was a monk!
- That same day, another Israeli asked if I was a Nazir, a term meaning ‘hermit’ and the closest in Hebrew for monk. I said ‘cain’ (yes), to which he replied, “Ohhh! So, no f*%cking?!” So, he got the gist.
From genuine curiosity to the sacred and profane, people often do not know what to make of monastics in the city-scape. There is no precedent for ascetics in certain settings. In some traditional Buddhist environments, like Sri Lanka, daily alms-rounds are commonly practiced and the mutuality between householder and monastic Buddhists allows for those who have “Taken the Going Forth” to uphold such vows as only eating food that has been given and not handling currency, and for laypeople to have a place of refuge where they can practice and receive guidance. Elsewhere the sight of robes can stand out, even endangering the monastic is locations of intolerance. There are, however, some communities in places we wouldn’t necessarily associate with Buddhism, such as England, where monks have been performing the alms-rounds for quite some time. Locals are now used to seeing monks begging and the practice has become naturalized through familiarity. By monastics being in the public sphere, and through dialogues such as this, we can come to have a glimpse into a lifestyle we may have not even heard about in an increasingly secularized modern world.
Lastly, how does a monastic receive the basic resources necessary for a contemporary ascetic lifestyle? In an urban setting, this can be complicated. Many temples have no monastics, many monastics have no temples. Some live in satellite locations off-site from a main temple. In some contexts, after dwelling in a monastery as a fully ordained Bhikshu for five years one can choose to live a solitary life. I did this for a few years in Toronto. Unlike my time in India which was fortunately funded by a generous sponsor, back in the city I had to fend for myself. I did not belong to one of our local communities and had to earn a living by returning to caregiving. This held great potential for virtuous activity, but resulted also in personal income nonetheless. The definition of the vow of poverty for tax-exemption according to the Canada Revenue Agency is a clergy-member who hands over all of their income to the order. In my temple-dwelling days this is what I did, I had no personal funds, but upon returning from India I had no place except alone. Many communities and monastic funds exist, but some cannot access this support. Many of my colleagues in India were sincere practitioners of this ilk. For some it means disenfranchisement, for others it is enough cause for disrobing in thinking that one is not really being a monastic when one cannot adhere strictly to the normative prohibition against working and handling money. I do not hold a firm stance on this as I once did. Although ordaining is a heteronomous decision made collaboratively between the candidate and the preceptor, I feel that one’s monastic lifestyle ultimately is a personal decision in a changing world. One of the main screening questions in seeking ordination from His Holiness the Dalai Lama is “how will you support yourself?” not “to which local community one will belong and be supported through?” Lama Osel, the Spanish reincarnation of the amazing Lama Yeshe, who helped bring Tibetan Buddhism to Westerners in the 60s and onward, once said: “those that are ordained should stay ordained. Those that are not ordained should ordain!” When it comes to monastic vows of discipline, for some it is all or nothing, for others a phase as in the Hindu stages of life, or Ashramas, for which there is a similar tradition in the Southern Schools of Buddhism in which adolescents spend time at the monastery holding basic novice vows. Some stay, some do not and see the time retrospectively as a formative period in their spiritual development. Although I gave my monastic vows back, I still revere the monastic discipline, hold monastics and my own time as a monk in the highest esteem, and even occasionally take temporary novice vows. In knowing how difficult it can be for some of our brothers and sisters to receive support for their striving to hold monastic vows purely, I aspire to one day be able to repay the kindness given to me by promoting awareness of monastic issues, and by offering up my own meagre practice, study and service and hopefully also contributing financial resources to monastic communities and the increasingly common and less anomalous independent monastics, if I ever move past being a poor graduate student!
Saturday, March 9, 2013
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