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She is a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy who went on to pilot H-3 and H-46 helicopters and the C-12 fixed-wing aircraft. She has deployed world-wide while flying helicopters from aircraft carriers, supply ships, and amphibious assault ships during “sea” assignments and worked for 7th Fleet (Japan), Commander of Naval Air Forces (San Diego) and the Joint Staff (Pentagon) during “shore” assignments. She retired from the Navy with the rank of Commander after 27 years of service.
The various locations of Navy assignments gave Rev Smitty an opportunity to visit temples and explore Buddhism, after feeling ill-suited for and leaving the Catholic faith in which she was raised. After retirement, Rev. Smitty became more involved at the Buddhist Temple of San Diego, first as a member of the BEC and other temple organizations, and later as a BCA Certified Minister’s Assistant. She began studying Buddhism in earnest initially by attending Rev. Mukojima’s study sessions at BTSD, then completing CBE’s Jodo Shinshu Correspondence Course, and later enrolling at the Institute of Buddhist Studies in Berkeley. She received Tokudo ordination in 2019 and continues to serve at BTSD under the supervision of Rev. Gregory Gibbs of the Pasadena Buddhist Temple. Rev. Smitty is currently studying and preparing for Kyoshi certification.
In addition to her BS in Physical Science from USNA, she received the Kyoshi Certificate from the Institute of Buddhist Studies in 2017 (a program later renamed the Certificate in Shin Buddhist Studies), and holds a Master of Education from Heritage University. She and her wife, Jackie, have been together for 34 years (and married for 14 of those years). They’re self-described “crazy (serial) cat ladies,” and their current kitty is Moon Shadow, a rescue from the San Diego Humane Society.
The Cleveland Buddhist Temple Sangha welcomes Rev. Smitty to our town and looks forward to future visits!
Ritual Connects Us, Especially During Obon Season
Not too long ago we had a visitor attend a Sunday Dharma Service at the Buddhist Temple of San Diego. After the service they were talking with one of our fairly long-time and very active sangha members. This person was a bit familiar with Buddhism, but not with our particular Pure Land school of Buddhism. The visitor had enjoyed the service very much, and was interested in learning more and possibly attending another service. They mentioned that they had been to other Buddhist gatherings (not specifically to temples) and had been meditating for a couple of years. I had overheard pieces of this ongoing conversation, and it was about this point that the sangha member said “hey, Sensei, come meet a visitor!” The sangha member introduced us, and explained that I was one of the ministers. The visitor was pleased to meet me, and remarked that, as a Buddhist priest, I must spend a lot of time in meditation. I gently explained that while I have and do meditate, as seen in that morning’s service, meditation is not a central part of our Buddhist practice. The visitor seemed to feel that there was something wrong with a Buddhist priest that wasn’t constantly engaged in meditation. They eyed me suspiciously. In fact, they wanted to know – if I don’t engage in meditation all the time, what do I do? As I explained that I lead the services (like the one they just attended) – conducting ritual, chanting, sharing the dharma – and study Buddhist teachings, read books, listen to dharma talks, chant sutras, etc., the visitor continued to eye me suspiciously. They were equating Buddhism with meditation, and the fact that I didn’t mention meditation in my list of practices somehow made me an inauthentic Buddhist (and probably not at all really qualified to be a minister).
It's not that I don’t meditate at all or have never meditated in my life. I used to go to some Zen temples when I lived in Japan and have even tried to sit zazen once upon a time (my legs and back won’t let me do that anymore). I don’t have anything against meditating or meditators – some of my friends are Zen Buddhists. I’ve meditated at a friend’s temple here in San Diego. I’ve both joined others sitting in meditation and have meditated alone. While I don’t think I’ll ever become enlightened by sitting in meditation, it does help to quiet my mind and has other physical and mental benefits. The one thing it doesn’t do, even when I meditate with others, is make me feel connected. Sure, I’ve felt the energy of being in a room full of quiet meditators. But I feel more energy, the kind that hums in my chest, when I chant with others – especially when chanting Shoshin Nembutsu Ge and Wasan (aka Shoshinge or the Gatha of True Faith in the Nembutsu, written by the founder of Jodo Shinshu, Shinran Shonin). Chanting is a form of ritual. The chanting connects us to the sutras we are voicing, the Buddhist masters who wrote the words, and the dharma contained in the words. Chanting Shoshinge is a ritual that can allow us to establish an emotional connection to Shinran Shonin, to the teachings he expounded, to those we are chanting with, to our teachers, to our teacher’s teachers, to our sangha members, to all sangha members who have come before us, and so on. Where meditation can separate and isolate us (I’m usually alone with my thoughts in my own head when meditating), ritual (such as chanting) joins and unites us.
Ritual is also much more than chanting. In a religious sense, rituals are ceremonies, rites, and actions done in a prescribed manner. Have you ever placed your palms together in gassho? That’s a ritual. Have you ever entered the hondō (Buddha Hall) by bowing slightly and stepping forward with your left foot first? That’s a ritual. Have you ever offered incense by following specific movements? That’s a ritual. In a secular sense, rituals are any set of actions that are conducted routinely in the same manner. Perhaps you have a “morning ritual” that involves things like showering, brushing your teeth, and having a cup of coffee. Perhaps you have a “family ritual” of eating dinner together each evening or visiting relatives and sharing a meal with them on Sunday. Perhaps you have a “nighttime ritual” that includes letting the dog out (and back in) one last time, locking doors, and turning off lights before going to bed.
As Jodo Shinshu Buddhists, we engage in many rituals, both religious and secular, in our daily lives. At least I know that I do. Sure, as a Buddhist priest I do chant daily. I also go through the small rituals of lighting a candle and burning incense at my Butsudan (home altar), placing my palms together in gassho, bowing, and voicing the Nembutsu (or “Namo Amida Butsu,” which is the Buddha’s name and a primary ritual or practice of Jodo Shinshu). These rituals remind me of how I am always illuminated by and connected to the working of Amida Buddha – unfathomable and limitless Light and Life – in every day and every aspect of my life.
This time of year, a period that we tend to call “Obon Season” (a period within the Buddhist Churches of America that runs from June through August), we Shin Buddhists engage in many rituals that connect us to a multitude of lives. We connect with loved ones who have passed away, with sangha members who have come before us, with current sangha members, and with sangha members who will follow in the future. The Bon Odori, or Obon Dance, is an annual ritual of both solemn remembrance and joyful celebration. The Obon service usually precedes the Bon Odori, and together these activities present a collection of rituals that juxtapose the sorrow of loss and the joy of living. Those who have lost a family member in the year since the last Obon will perform a small ritual of lighting a candle during the service to remember and honor their loved one. The candle’s light symbolizes the Shin belief that the deceased has become one with the Buddha of Infinite Light and Life and now illumines our life. In that manner our loved ones are always with us, connected to us and embracing us with the Wisdom and Compassion of enlightenment.
This service is usually followed by the Bon Odori, a set of ritualistic dances in which we celebrate and remember the lives of those who have passed away, and simultaneously celebrate the lives of all who presently surround us. It’s considered a joyful gathering, and each motion of the dances has meaning (similar to how the motions of the Hawaiian hula have meaning) as the living and deceased are said to celebrate together, being embraced by infinite Wisdom and Compassion of the universe.
Ritual connects us, it settles us, it uplifts us, it soothes us, it strengthens us, and it heals us. Bon dances are rituals of remembrance and joy, connecting us to those who have gone before us and celebrating the truth that our loved ones remain in our lives even after their death. Rituals, such as chanting or Obon dancing, are powerful because they are deliberate and intentional. The connection we feel when we perform rituals can transcend time and space, uniting us with all life, giving meaning to our own existence.
In gassho (with palms together)
Rev Smitty
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