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  In the Epilogue to the Tannisho Shinran gratefully affirms this fact in his famous confessional:

  When I ponder on the compassionate vow of Amida, established through five kalpas of profound thought, it was for myself, Shinran, alone. Because I am a being burdened so heavily with karma, I feel even more deeply grateful to the Primal Vow which is decisively made to save me.

  Down through the centuries, countless people have replaced Shinran’s name with their own and recited this confessional, grateful for having personally encountered the compassionate Vow in the midst of samsaric life.

  6

  NEMBUTSU: THE NAME-THAT-CALLS

  When my friend, Teruo, first posed the question about karma to me, it was just another concept among many that I was studying. It had nothing to do with my life, and even less with the questions that would eventually consume me: Who am I? Where did my life come from? Where is it going? I soon began to realize that the whole message of the Buddha is directed to answering these fundamental questions about the self, this self bound by a karmic past and yearning for liberation and freedom.

  The Pure Land response is contained in “namu-amida-butsu.” This is the nembutsu that originally implied “contemplating the Buddha” but today more commonly means “saying the Name of Amida Buddha.” The two are distinguished as meditative nembutsu and recitative nembutsu. What is the significance of this invocation of the Name of Amida?

  Central to the nembutsu is the awakening to human finitude and limitations, the awareness of the darkness of ignorance (avidya) that gives rise to greed, anger, and folly. The namu component of nembutsu expresses this finitude. This realization of namu—lost, rootless, and directionless—is brought to awareness by amida-butsu, boundless and endless compassion that enfolds it. Amida means “immeasurable,” that which is not measurable and beyond conceptual understanding.

  Amida combines the dual connotation of its Sanskrit originals, Amitabha, Immeasurable Light, and Amitayus, Immeasurable Life. Butsu is the Japanese rendition for Buddha. Thus, illuminated by the Buddha of Immeasurable Light and Immeasurable Life, I am made to realize my reality as a karma-bound being—limited, imperfect, and mortal—contained within boundless compassion. In the full acknowledgment of my finitude, of my karmic bondage, liberation and freedom are realized.

  The saying of nembutsu confirms the boundless, endless life (amida-butsu) in which the insecure self (namu) finds itself at home. Human reason cannot fathom the fullness of living namu-amida-butsu, for much of it is beyond our conscious awareness. On the conscious level, however, there is constant tension between the awareness of a limited being, namu, asserting itself at every occasion, and the openness of compassion, amida-butsu, providing the space for us to be ourselves. But this tension ultimately culminates in supreme enlightenment through the power of the Primal Vow.

  Philosophically speaking, the nembutsu is the self-articulation of fundamental reality. As such, the saying of the Name contains the alpha and omega of the Buddhist soteriological path. The Name is vibrant with mythic significance, full of indicators that transcend ordinary ways of thinking: Dharmakara Bodhisattva’s original vows identifying with human suffering, fulfillment of the multiple vows making our liberation an accomplished fact, the consequent attainment of Buddhahood, and supreme enlightenment of all beings, past, present, and future. We might understand this story, rich with religiosity, in a simple, direct way.

  The words and concepts of everyday language are useful and necessary for life, but once their usefulness ends, the words disappear. In contrast, the Name, namu-amida-butsu, is the source of creative life, the power that affirms reality-as-is. Each time it is intoned, vital life is experienced. What does this mean? Through the working of the Name, we are made to become aware of ourselves as limited, finite beings (namu), yet secure within the sustaining power of boundless compassion (amida-butsu). As human beings we are made to become true, real, and sincere through the operative functioning of the Name. When we thus em-body the Name, Amida is right here. Apart from intoning the Name, there is no Amida. The Name is Amida Buddha. The Name is reality-as-is.

  Different usages of the Name are found in religions all over the world from prehistoric times to the present. It is utilized as magical spells, charms, mantras, incantations, and ritual invocations. Common among them is the fact that the Name is seen as possessing some kind of power. Thus, it has utility value, serving a variety of human needs: curing illness, securing health, bringing good fortune, overcoming death, destroying enemy, and promising eternal life.

  In contrast, the primary function of the Name in Shin Buddhism is its truth value, it brings about the realization of reality-as-is. In brief, the Name has no miraculous powers, it has nothing to do with ecstatic visions, it never promises any material benefits, and it makes no pretense about solving every worldly problem. The fundamental purpose of the Name as namu-amida-butsu is awakening to the incomparable worth of this unrepeatable life, this limited, finite life that is inseparable from boundless, infinite life.

  One of the closest parallels to this nembutsu practice in world religions is the Jesus Prayer of the Eastern Orthodox Church. The Way of the Pilgrim urges people to undertake the ceaseless prayer, “Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on me.” At one point the pilgrim is required to repeat the prayer twelve thousand times a day.

  Ceaseless prayer is to call upon the Name of God always, whether a man is conversing, or sitting down, or walking, or making something, or eating, whatever he may be doing, in all places and at all times, he ought to call upon God’s Name.

  This reminds us of the daily practice of Tao-ch’o, who is said to have repeated the nembutsu seventy thousand times a day. Honen also encouraged the constant saying of the Name; and he, too, is reported to have undertaken sixty thousand or seventy thousand invocations daily.

  A more sophisticated interpretation of the Jesus Prayer appears in a small tract, On the Invocation of the Name of Jesus, a joint product of the Anglican and Orthodox Churches. In this work reciting the Name of Jesus is understood in three basic ways: as a contemplative act pursued in a quiet setting, as a method of contacting the Person of Jesus, and as a form of asceticism, requiring forgetfulness of self and the banishing of sinful images. It also warns against “verbal idolatry,” using the Name for utilitarian purposes.

  While Shin Buddhism upholds the centrality of recitative nembutsu, it has nothing to do with the number of invocations. What is crucial is the quality of the heart inherent in each saying, the purity of response to the call of the Buddha of Immeasurable Light and Life. Thus, even a single utterance, or even the “thought of wanting to say the nembutsu,” is sufficient. No condition of any kind is placed on a person; the only thing required is deep hearing, the repeated hearing of the calling of nembutsu.

  Since the nembutsu is regarded as the self-articulation of reality, Shin Buddhists do not consider “namu-amida-butsu” to be connected to any particular language—Sanskrit, Chinese, Japanese, or others—although historically it is derived from the Sanskrit. As the ultimate religious symbol, the Name is the primary object of devotional worship. Namu-amida-butsu, written on a scroll and placed on the altar, is the central image. It is preferred over sculpted or painted figures of Amida. Since reality becomes manifest wherever and whenever the Name is intoned, it is clearly not an abstract concept, intellectually devised, nor is it a signifier related to the signified. Ultimately, the nembutsu is the creative life force that becomes manifest in a person, embodied in thought, action, and speech.

  When Honen was on his deathbed, his disciples gathered around him and expressed sadness and regret that their master did not build any temples or monuments by which they could remember him. Great monks and priests in the past all had erected huge temples and founded monasteries, and their life and deeds were celebrated with elaborate memorial services at these sites. Honen lived in a simple hermitage, his gates always open to the people. He rejected the building of edifices, and on his deathbed said, “Wherever the nembutsu is intoned, there is my temple.”

  As a form of religious practice, however, recitative nembutsu has two functions. First, it voices our deepest wish to go beyond the ego-self and to become true, real, and sincere as a human being. When this actually begins to take place, we immediately encounter an obstacle, our own ego-self, and come to see that it has already been accomplished in the timeless past for each of us from the side of Amida Buddha. Second, we then respond to the Name-that-calls with gratitude, a gratitude so profound that ordinary language cannot express it. Hence, the only recourse is the nembutsu, the creative word that comes from the deepest source of life itself. In either case, the Name-that-calls comes from the depth and touches us, and when we respond with our whole being, we awaken from the slumber of self-delusion and open our eyes to the endless wonder that is life.

  Once a student in my class on Buddhist thought at Smith College wrote an essay, revealing the significance of “calling” in her own experience. The incident occurred during a hiking trip into the Grand Canyon. With several friends Julia took a long trek into the canyon. In due time she lagged behind and found herself all alone. Suddenly she realized that she was lost in unfamiliar terrain. Julia yelled out the names of her friends, but only their echoes resounded in the canyon. An eerie silence prevailed.

  With the coming of dusk, the air became chillier, and she tried to keep herself warm as best she could. Surely her friends would come back looking for her, she thought, but as time passed and darkness descended, there was no sign of a search party. The night air became colder, wild animals howled incessantly, and suspicious rustling in the bushes struck fear.

  Then in the night stillness, she heard faint human voices in the distance. As the minutes passed, the voices became stronger. She could hear movements in the darkness approaching her. The search party was calling out to her; soon the calling became clearer and clearer. She distinctly heard the calling directed to her; and she in response yelled back to identify herself. Though she couldn’t see the search party in the darkness, their calling out affirmed their presence and ensured her rescue. As Julia responded to the call, she was no longer afraid. In hearing her name called and calling in return, she felt strong in body and mind. Her whole being was transformed from one of total confusion to one of complete well-being. The nembutsu functions in our life in a similar way, so I translate it into English as the Name-that-calls.

  The Chinese and Japanese character for “name” consists of two ideographs: “dusk” and “mouth.” When we are lost in the darkness, someone calls out and identifies himself or herself by name. In fact, the Japanese word for “dusk,” tasogare, means “who is there?” In the darkness we hear a name, confirm it, and all is right with the world. Although we may be groping in the darkness, once we hear the Name, we are brought out of the darkness into an open field of bright sunshine. This clarity enables us to see ourselves as we are, free of subjectivity. This insight into self is the noetic core at the heart of nembutsu. Let me illustrate this with a simple example.

  At bedtime as a little boy begins to go to sleep in the dark, he sees monsters in the room and cries out, “Mommy, Mommy.” The mother comes into the room, turns on the light switch, and comforts the child, saying, “Look, there’s no monster here.” He is relieved, the mother turns off the light and leaves the room. Comforted, he tries to go back to sleep again, but in the darkness the child sees monsters jumping around in the room, and full of fear he begins to cry. The mother rushes back to the room, and this time remains with him in the darkness. She then actually notices ominous figures dancing around on the wall; they are shadows thrown by the streetlight, swaying trees blown by the wind. The mother wakes up the boy, turns on the light, and shows him that his fear is real but unfounded. The light is turned off, the child fully understands, and he soon falls asleep, softly murmuring, “Mommy, Mommy.” At the core of nembutsu experience is a noetic element that enables us to see things as they are, so that we are no longer fooled or agitated by delusions.

  Such is the function of the Name, the self-articulation of reality that comes to be embodied in a person. Ultimate reality in Buddhism is called dharmakaya; it is beyond description, imagination, and conception. Since it transcends the horizon of our understanding, it reveals itself in our world as the Name, namu-amida-butsu, making itself accessible to anyone at any time. To truly hear the Name-that-calls is to be led out of darkness into the light of day.

  When we thus realize reality, it is more basic than simply being “religious,” or being “good.” For this reason Shinran asserts:

  The saying of nembutsu is neither a religious practice nor a good act. Since it is practiced without any calculation, it is “non-practice.” Since it is also not a good created by my calculation, it is “non-good.” Since it is nothing but Other Power, completely separate from self-power, it is neither a religious practice nor a good act on the part of the practicer. (Tannisho VIII)

  How does the ordinary person understand this working of the Name? How does one respond to the Name-that-calls? Among the many responses, here is one that is frequently quoted with minor variations:

  Although the voice that calls

  Namu-amida-butsu is mine,

  It is the call of my dear parent,

  Saying, “Come as you are!”

  The Japanese original for “dear parent” is oya-sama. This term that makes no distinction between father and mother conveys a much warmer and more intimate feeling than the English word parent. Our parent as oya-sama always welcomes us back without any conditions attached, saying “Come as you are!” It makes no difference, whether we are depressed, lonely, angry, feel rejected, thirsting for love, or fearful of the unknown. Great compassion awaits us with an open arm. Namu-amida-butsu is the beckoning call, “Come, just as you are!”

  This openhearted welcome is quietly described by Koshin Ogui in an article carried in the Cleveland Buddhist Temple Newsletter. He relates an experience he once had of returning home from a trip. In his absence the answering machine had recorded four phone calls from the same person. The message was, “Jesus is the only savior. Believe in him and you’ll be saved. Love him and you’ll be loved. Anyone who does not believe in him will go to hell.” Ogui comments:

  What do you say about this message. I don’t know why, but then I recalled meeting with my mother on my recent trip to Japan. I hadn’t seen her for five years. As soon as I opened the door to the house where I was born, there she was standing right in front of me. She didn’t say anything much, but she held my hand and with tears in her eyes, she said, “You came home.” Isn’t that nice, to be welcomed without any justification, whether I believe in her or not, or love her or not. I realize that I have always been living in her love. I am grateful. Namu-amida-butsu.

  In ordinary language namu-amida-butsu is saying, “I have arrived, I have come home.” Thus, Shin Buddhists call this the truly settled state.

  7

  OTHER POWER

  The working of the Primal Vow, the compassion of the Buddha of Immeasurable Light and Life, is called Other Power. But this “other” is not opposed to “self” in the dualistic sense. This becomes clear when we understand that the starting point of Pure Land Buddhism is not Amida Buddha but Dharmakara Bodhisattva. As a bodhisattva, Dharmakara saw deeply into the immense sufferings of all beings, identified with them completely, discerned their causes, found a way to eliminate them, and prepared the practice for each being to attain liberation. When this Primal Vow was fulfilled and perfected, the Buddha of Immeasurable Light and Life became a reality.

  Dharmakara Bodhisattva is with each of us right now in our struggles, sharing our pains and our hopes, remaining by our side, and helping us in our spiritual journey. Dharmakara will not rest until the story of our own life reaches full realization with our own liberation and freedom. When we attain this liberation and freedom, then Amida Buddha becomes a living reality. This process is encapsulated in the living of nembutsu, “namu-amida-butsu.” Namu is the lost, wandering self, seeking a way to realize its fullest potential. Amida-butsu or Amida Buddha is great compassion that calls all lost and delusory beings to itself. When fully grounded in such a compassion, one’s flowering as a true, real, and sincere person takes place naturally and spontaneously.

  Other Power, then, is the working of great compassion that gives itself completely to each form of life. It is beyond the ordinary comprehension of the small-minded, entangled with all kinds of false discriminations. Other Power thus should not be regarded as an object within the conventional subject-object framework. It operates at the very foundation of life, nullifying all our dualistic calculations (hakarai).

  This appreciation of the “other” as nondual is expressed experientially by Saichi (1850–1933), a so-called myokonin, a person of humble origin but penetrating insight:

  In Other Power

  There is no self-power

  There is no other-power

  All is Other Power.

  For Saichi, self-power and Other Power are arbitrary distinctions made from the side of human beings. Since the compassion of Amida, beyond our conceptual grasp, is boundless, it is called great compassion (karuna). This compassion endows wisdom (prajna) in each existence as it is without any judgment. The adjective “great” connotes the mind and heart of the Buddha that embraces all kinds of dualities—self and other, good and bad, young and old, life and death, and so on—transforming them into sources of dynamic, creative life. How can one appreciate the working of Other Power?