Religious
Daoism
I started out this book by emphasizing that what I am describing is
Daoism as a practical philosophy. At this point I should
mention that this is in opposition to Daoism as a religion.
Most Westerners don't even know that there is such a thing. Oddly
enough, I've found that people really have a hard time recognizing
something that they don't expect. For example, I used to identify
myself as a “Daoist” and tried to live something like a religious
Daoist and found that even friends simply couldn't wrap their heads
around this idea. One fellow got it into his head that I was a Muslim
and I could never get him to understand that I am not. Another called
me a Buddhist for much the same reason. A Benedictine nun friend had
the idea that I had just made up all this Daoism stuff. Well, I
didn't. In China and amongst the Chinese diaspora there are temples,
and, “priests” (daoshi) of a religion known as “Daoism”.
........
I'm not an expert, but from my reading on the subject it seems the
religion came from a lot of different sources. As I mentioned above,
there appears to have been an oral tradition that created
foundational texts such as the Nei-Yeh and the Dao
De Jing.
This tradition also created meditation techniques like sitting and
forgetting, holding onto the One, and, internal alchemy.
In
addition, there was another stream called “Chinese folk religion”.
This is a part of the cultural inheritance of ordinary Chinese
society. It includes things like a pantheon of various gods and
immortals such as the Jade Emperor, the
Queen Mother of the West, the Ghost King,
General
Kwan, the God
of Longevity,
and so on. (When you go into a Chinese-owned business in the West you
will often see an altar to one or several of these folk gods.)
In addition, there are shamanist traditions that involve things like
the “sand oracle”. This involves a specialist who is “possessed”
by one of the gods and who answers questions put to the her by
writing with a chopstick on a pan of sand. (I was told that the
fellow who travelled from Hong Kong to Canada to set up the Fung Loy
Kok temple and who initiated me, immigrated on the advice of a sand
oracle.)
Yet
another element in the creation of the Daoist religion was
a
rebellion by
the exploited lower classes of Chinese society. This
was the “yellow turban
rebellion” which started
in the year 184 and lasted until the year 205 CE. It
was organized by
the “Five Pecks of Rice Daoists”, led
by the “Celestial Master”. (The “five pecks of rice” refers
to
a tax that members were expected to pay into a communal bank and
which was used to help the poor and support collective undertakings.)
After the rebellion was quashed by the armies of Imperial China (part
of the campaign is described in the Chinese classic novel Three
Kingdoms)
the movement became more
religiously focused
and lives on today as one of the two major daoist sects: Zheng
Yi DÃ o,
or, “the Way of Orthodox Unity”. Orthodox Daoism tends to be
based on a priesthood that minister to local communities of
followers. They hold
public
rituals,
organize charitable activity, perform exorcisms and healing
ceremonies, and, generally act something like pastors
in rural protestant Christian communities.
.........
The other major sect of Daoism, the Quanzhen or “the Way of
Completeness and Truth”, was founded about a thousand years after
Orthodox Daoism by Wang Chongyang. The legend is that Wang met three
Daoist immortals in a tavern and they taught him secret meditation
techniques, which he went on to perfect while living many years of
intense practice, first in a tomb and then in a hut. After this
period, he adopted seven followers (who became famous as the “Seven
Daoist Masters” of Chinese folklore), who then went on to found
seven major Daoist sects. The most famous of these disciples,
Changchun zi, caught the ear of the Mongol Emperor Genghis Khan, who
granted him land in the Imperial Capital of Beijing, which eventually
became one of the greatest sites in Daoism, the White Cloud Temple.
The Quanzhen school grew in something of a tension with Buddhism,
which had come from India after the creation of Orthodox Daoism.
Chinese culture was generally opposed to celibacy and monasticism,
which is reflected in the teachings of the Celestial Master, who
encouraged his followers to marry and integrate themselves into the
community. In contrast, Buddhism has always encouraged its followers
to isolate themselves from mainstream society. By the time of Wang
Chongyang Buddhism had become very popular in China, and the obvious
conclusion would be that it influenced the development of Quanzhen
Daoism---which favours monasticism, just like Buddhism.
........
In addition, I understand that in the 19th century there
were popular spiritual movements amongst the lower classes which
taught the unity of all religions and the importance of charity and
mutual aid. Unfortunately, the Communist Party of China saw these
groups as competitors and ruthlessly suppressed them in mainland
China. The temple that I was initiated into, the Fung Loy Kok, was an
offshoot of a Hong Kong organization, the Yuen Yuen Institute, that
embodied these ideals. This adds yet another element “to the mix”.
...........
I suspect that the majority of people who read this book will
consider all religions to be not much more than superstitious
nonsense. To a certain extent I do too, but I have to offer one
caveate. To understand it, I think people have to realize that while
all people may be created equal, they are not created the
same.
One of the “basic operating assumptions” that all human beings
work with is the idea that each of us has a similar way of
experiencing the world. When I see a rose, I assume that someone else
sees much the same thing. But in point of fact, it is very difficult
to know if this is actually true. I can point at what I see and tell
someone else that it is a “rose”, which will lead to her using
the same word whenever she sees the same thing again. But I have no
real way of telling if she sees a soft, red, nest of petals. For all
I know, she might be seeing what I would experience as a hard, blue,
pile of crystals.
If this sounds absurd, consider the fact that a certain percentage of
the population suffers from an affliction known as colour blindness.
I went to school with a guy who simply could not tell the difference
between green and red because both looked the same to him. This
caused a problem for him on his family's farm because it meant that
he couldn't tell the difference in ripeness for some types of fruit.
His experience of a rose is significantly different than mine.
Now lets push this issue even further. There is also a very small
percentage of people who have something called “synethesia”,
which means that they experience one type of sense in ways that most
people associate with another sense altogether. A sound, for example,
may have a colour. This is so alien to me that I simply cannot
understand what it would be like. In my experience, only visual
objects have colour. Yet we don't see sound, we only hear
it---so how could it have a colour?
Let's go totally wild. There are cases of individuals who have been
profoundly blind since birth yet they have learned how to live much
like normal people by developing the ability to echo locate like
bats. One example I saw on YouTube has developed this ability to the
point where he is able to ride a bicycle and shoot hoops with a
basketball. He does it just like a bat---he makes clicking noises and
uses the echos he hears to create a mental three dimensional image
that allows him to navigate the world around him.
There are other examples. People who become chess masters often show
off by playing multiple games of chess in their heads. This isn't a
“fluke”, but rather a by-product of developing the ability to
recognize the patterns in play that define a master instead of an
ordinary player. Another example is a random pattern autostereogram
(look it up on Wikipedia.) These are pictures that look like nothing
at all until a person's brain learns the “trick” of decoding the
information---but once you do, a full-fledged, three-dimensional
picture “jumps” up at you off the page. The point I am trying to
make is that contrary to naive assumptions, people do not all
experience the world in the same way. And for some people religion is
all total “bosh”, whereas others experience something incredibly
important.
Part of this is a question of emotion. People aren't just thinking
beings, but also feeling ones. And for many people, religion is about
feeling deeply about a specific God. I've never been able to
understand the strong feeling that some Christians have about their
Gods (Jesus, the Father, the Saints), but then again my childhood
experiences were not conducive to feeling deeply about other family
members. (Union meetings where people talk about “brothers” and
“sisters” also leave me cold.)
What I do have more sympathy towards are people who claim to have had
religious experiences.
When God came into my teenage or college bedroom in that way, unasked and unmistakable, the next morning I would wake up changed. I’d go out into the world and give away everything I could. Wouldn’t drive past a broken-down car without stopping to help, was kind and grateful even with my parents, couldn’t stop singing, built houses for poor people, gave secret gifts to my friends, things like that. Sometimes it lasted for weeks; once, when I was in my early twenties, it lasted for nearly a year. It is called being on fire for God. It’s like you’ve glimpsed the world’s best secret: that love need not be scarce.
“Letter from Williamsburg”,
by Kristin Dombek,
The Paris Review, Summer
2013 No. 205
I've had experiences like the ones Dombek describes, which is why I
have some sympathy for them. I've also had them associated with
numinous dreams where I met with figures from Daoist mythology---the
Goddess of Mercy and the Ghost King.
People who've never had this sort of experience say that they simply
cannot understand what people are talking about. (I suspect that a
fraction of this population have actually had something like this
happen to them, but it scared them so much that they refuse to admit
it.) But I have to take most of them on their word. After all can we
really know what it's like to be in someone else's skin?
Of course, some folks will probably just dismiss this as something
akin to a manic episode and chalk all religious experiences to low
grade psychiatric illness. As someone with more than my fair share of
exposure to people with obvious psychiatric disorders, my humble
opinion is that this is a facile response. The line between madness
and sanity is far more ambiguous than that point of view would
suggest. We create a socially-sanctioned definition and discard many
important elements of ordinary consciousness in creating the
“received version” of what it means to be a human being. My
opinion is in line with that of Temple Grandin (the famous autistic
professor of animal science.) I once heard her interviewed on the CBC
where she suggested that human consciousness exists on a continuum
and both autism and bipolar disorder are extremes of very useful
human tendencies. Remove all autism from the human population and you
will have removed all the scientists, mathematicians and engineers
too. And take away bipolar disorder, and there would be no more
artists. I won't hazard a guess about what is involved in religious
experiences, but perhaps if we removed the ability to love God we
would also remove the ability to love anything or anyone.
...........
Another thing to remember about organized religion is that it is a
way of unifying a population of people around a central theme or set
of ideals. When people see a ritual they are not arguing amongst
themselves in a search for some sort of clear and precise truth.
Instead, they are doing one or many of several different things. They
might be enjoying music and art, or, they might be feeling good about
being part of a community experience, or, they may be feeling
nostalgic about past experiences of a similar sort, or, they might be
having a profoundly emotional experience triggered by feelings
associated with specific symbols. The feeling and ideas aroused by
the experience may vary from person to person, indeed, they might be
totally contradictory. But because the ideas and emotions raised
remain on the theoretical level instead of being explicitly
articulated, there is no opportunity for people to realize this fact,
so the event brings them together instead of pushing them apart. For
example, a given ritual might be attended by an artist who
appreciates the beautiful caligraphy on the altar; an old woman who
is reminded about the village festivals of her youth; a young mother
who is happy to be surrounded by her extended family; children who
are happy for all the noise, gaudy clothes, and, good food; and, a
young intellectual who views the public worship of the Gods as a way
of connecting to the long history of the nation. All the same things
can be said about a Roman Catholic mass.
Contrast this with what happens when a philosopher tries to get
people to clearly articulate their beliefs about a contentious
subject. People who thought that they were in agreement usually find
out that they believe very different things. Tempers often flare up.
And the community divides. Ritual unites a
community---discursive reasoning divides it. This is why
ancient Athens put Socrates to death and why I can seem to be a total
jerk at a party. But the great value of discursive reasoning is that
it deflates superstition, expands human knowledge, and, separates
fact from opinion. It offers progress in place of comfort. I
understand the appeal of religion, but ultimately I know that I am
more of a philosopher than a believer. This is why I ultimately
rejected religious Daoism and am writing this book. But it doesn't
mean that I cannot understand the appeal. I would hope that all those
rationalists who read this book will at least try to understand this
point too.
&&&&
Moreover I say unto you, the Climate Emergency must be dealt with!