Buddha in the Window
by
Rev. Caroline Brazier
Walking through our village, I see a Buddha statue in the window of a house. A flutter of anticipation. Have I stumbled across a fellow practitioner living nearby? Might we make contact? But then, of course, I realise that the owners of the house are not Buddhist at all. This was not a religious statue, but a popular version of a Buddha, the like of which I have seen in many gift shops and garden centres locally, most probably bought as a decoration with little thought for its significance.
In the past, when I have seen Buddhas being sold in such shopping outlets I have felt some irritation. Why should a religious artefact, important to Buddhists, be sold as a decorative item? How would Christians or Muslims feel if symbols of their faith were sold as garden or household ornaments to non-believers? In general, Buddhists are more tolerant in their attitudes, but I have known some who would be outraged at such trivialization.
But then I start to think about what lies behind this popularity.
There is no denying that, almost invariably, if one looks at the range of statuary on sale in these garden shops and department stores, Buddhas rank pretty high. We are looking to move house shortly and, having viewed a number of houses recently online and in actuality, it seems as if almost everyone in the UK has a Buddha tucked away somewhere in their home. I commented on this to one lady we visited, who smiled and responded, “Oh yes, I rub his tummy every day for luck!”
Of course, as Buddhists, we can regard such comments as superstitious nonsense. On the other hand, maybe in doing so we miss the point.
If you talk to people who have no real knowledge of Buddhism about why they have a Buddha statue in their home they will usually say something like “It makes me feel peaceful.” Whilst they may know next to nothing about the Buddha’s teaching, the figure sitting in meditation or standing calmly with hands outstretched evokes a response in them. The inward smile and settled posture speak of something which they intuitively long for. Connecting with the image brings a moment of calm; a pause in the onslaught of daily life. It satisfies a hunger.
The fact is that there is something represented in these popular statues that touches deeply into people’s hearts. These images, drawn with varying degrees of liberty from traditional iconography, call out qualities in people which they experience as life enhancing. They connect in an instinctive way to something fundamental.
So, I ask myself, is this basic instinct that connects to the statue on the window sill really so different from what arises in our hearts, that we give voice to in the nembutsu? It is often commented, at least here in the UK where I live, that Pure Land Buddhism is difficult for Westerners to grasp. Westerners, we are told, are attracted to the pragmatism of meditation, of individual practice and of personal effort. Pure Land Buddhism is too relational and too religious. Perhaps, however, this view does not take into account the hunger for spiritual connection that so many people seem to feel, expressed in these many casual purchases of Buddha figures.
I am not saying that everyone who has a Buddha in their garden is a fledgling nembutsu follower, but perhaps the impulse that leads people to select a Buddha from the stone ornaments in the local store holds something of that same response, the same calling of the heart. Shinran’s teaching reached out to ordinary people, and Pure Land Buddhism has always had a popular aspect to its practice. Amida’s vow is for everyone, not discriminating by wealth or taste or education. It is our deep connection to the greater Buddhaness that is always with us, deeply intuitive and beyond ordinary words.
Amida’s vow speaks to people in different ways. Maybe for some people the Buddha’s light comes from the daily sight of their favourite ornament. Maybe for some, daily devotions can even be the rubbing a Buddha’s tummy.
Namo Amida Butsu
Rev. Caroline Brazier
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