This was originally offered in two dharma talks.
The Buddha’s teaching on the Four truths realized by the noble ones:
The truth of suffering:
Birth is painful, aging is painful, illness is painful, death is painful, union with what is displeasing is painful, separation from what is pleasing is painful, not to get what one wants is painful, in brief, the five aggregates subject to clinging are painful. [The five aggregates are form, sensation, perception, formations, and consciousness].
The truth of the origin of suffering:
it is this craving that leads to renewed existence, accompanied by delight and lust, seeking delight here and there; that is craving for sensual pleasures, craving for existence, craving for extermination.
This is the truth of the cessation of suffering:
it is the remainderless fading away and cessation of that same craving, the giving up and relinquishing of it, freedom from it, nonattachment.
The truth of the way leading to the cessation of suffering:
that is right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, right concentration.
Four tasks:
The noble truth of suffering is to be fully understood.
The noble truth of the origin of suffering is to be abandoned
The noble truth of the cessation of suffering is to be realized
The noble truth of the practice leading to the cessation of suffering is to be developed. ]
So let’s take a look at the Buddha’s teachings from the perspective of community. Those core teachings are usually interpreted and understood from an individual view—the precepts as personal ethical code, for example. But the genius of the Buddha’s teachings is that it is also possible to scale them up, to the level of small sitting groups, families, workplaces, nations, and the world. How so? This is what I am interested in exploring. Let’s begin with one of the most basic teachings of the Buddha, his first teaching to his former companions following his enlightenment—the four truths of the noble ones. These are those truths that traditionally are believed to be individual realizations of the “noble ones,” those who have awakened. They are, therefore, also investigations that can lead us to awakening, both as individuals and as a sangha.
*1. The truth of Dukkha. The first noble truth is the truth of dukkha. Dukkha is an adjective that means “painful,” or “stressful.” For spiritual communities the same definition provided by the Buddha applies: birth is dukkha, sickness is dukkha, death is dukkha, not getting what the community wants is dukkha, not being with what is loved is dukkha, having to be with what is unloved is dukkha. This applies equally to communities as to individuals. To say that something is dukkha, or painful, is not to say that that is its only quality. Certainly birth is accompanied also by joy, relief, hope, anxiety about the future, and so on, both for individuals and for communities. The Buddha was not saying that dukkha is all that life is. Rather, in the course of our life and in the life of the community we will encounter many painful and stressful situations. Awakening means to fully realize this truth. There is no Camelot, no perfect kingdom of eternal bliss, no permanent utopian commune of like-minded people. Our refuge is in our acceptance of the normality and reality of dukkha in the life of our community. We will experience painful losses of community members, aging of teachers, ups and downs of financial well-being, trouble, struggle, and strife over the life of the community.
*2. The truth of Samudaya. The painfulness of situations arises, both in individuals and in community, from longing and clinging. A beloved teacher moves away, a place we were meeting is no longer available, a sangha member dies, leaving a hole in the community. Part of the function of ceremonies in community is to come together to process samudaya, in memorial services, for example. In our own community of Appamada, we have a weekly inquiry program, where a teacher meets the questions and challenges brought by community members. In this way, a painful personal situation can be held, witnessed, and shared across the whole community. But the community itself must grapple with its own longing, perhaps for a dedicated space, or a teacher, or financial stability. Most of all communities long for peace, harmony, stability and permanence. Instead they must face upset, discord, change, uncertainty, and impermanence. It helps to name and acknowledge the painful qualities of situations, to recognize the longing and clinging that arise together with them. In this way the sangha can honestly attend to the suffering and distress felt throughout the community.
*3. The truth of Nirodha. Dukkha arises, therefore dukkha can cease. This is non-trivial: the Buddha spoke of cessation not as a gradual easing but like a candle that is extinguished, or a fire that has entirely consumed its fuel. The cessation of dukkha in community is immediate when its members clearly see and fully accept the situation as it is (and really, what other choice do we have?), address it with wisdom and compassion, let go and move on. When we recognize the origins of suffering, we can abandon them. This is far easier said than done. I have observed communities that are still mired in self-created suffering over events that happened twenty-five years ago. One might think that members were gratified by their own distress. In fostering nirodha, the extinction of suffering, wise leadership is essential. Wise and compassionate leaders clearly articulate the situation without amplifying the distress, model how to meet the situation with some equanimity and offer a vision for addressing it skillfully, letting go and moving on. This is liberation at the community level. Well, how is that possible? I am glad you asked.
*4. The truth of Marga. The Buddha taught that there is indeed a path, the noble eightfold path, to the cessation of suffering. This eightfold path applies as much to communities as to individuals. Marga is a Sanskrit word that originally referred to the middle of a river, where the water flows freely, not impeded by rocks and branches, and not diverted into side-streams and eddies. So a life aligned with the eightfold path also flows freely, for individuals and for sanghas.
What might this eightfold path look like for communities? Here are the first four of the eight steps. They are not sequential steps; they are more like fractal dimensions that reflect each other at every level of scale, from the individual to the planet.
*1. Right view. A community can support right view through welcoming all views, and using shared discernment, wisdom, and compassion to fully understand the situation—life as it is. That includes not only the situation within the community, but the situation of the community in the larger world. This step can never be realized through a simple-minded focus on individuals. It must include not only the human conditions and individual preferences, but expand to take an ecological perspective of living systems in which humans play a small role. This includes the physical world—both natural and man-made, social systems and organizational systems, communication networks, psychological currents, and spiritual dimensions of any situation. Such a perspective views time on a much larger scale: eons, centuries, generations, which therefore includes instants, hours, and weeks. An ecological perspective foregrounds relationships, processes, and flows that include but are not centered on individuals or objects. In considering community we are observing its health and well-being through flows of information, energy, power, and resources. We look at how relationships are organized and supported—is the social architecture fostering healthy, wise, and compassionate relating? Are the dynamics of power and its distribution understood and are they clearly supporting the well-being and development of the community? Are resources available as needed and are there processes for gathering and wisely using them? Is the community avoiding wasteful action that does not serve its purposes?
The ecological perspective seeks to understand whole systems so that they can continue to evolve in healthy, dynamic functioning in accord with our shared aspirations, which leads us to right intention.
*2. Right intention. What is the aspiration of a community that goes beyond the individual aspirations of its members? An ecosystem is categorically different from an assembly of individual parts. It is organically constituted and evolves as a living organism. What is its role in the larger ecosystems in which it is situated? In other words, why do we come together, and how does that matter in the world around us? We need to continually engage in this inquiry. Without active investigation of our intention and aspiration as a community, we could drift into unhealthy or dangerous waters, or fall under the spell of a charismatic charlatan, or be pushed by an aggressive person or faction into an unsound path.
By continuing to examine our collective intention for the community in alignment with the Buddha’s teachings and our Bodhisattva vow, we can evolve and develop our spiritual community toward deeper purpose and meaning, intimacy and trust. The key is care that is wise, mindful, and energized. As a community we weave the fabric of an enlightened life together, caring for and supporting each other through difficult times, joyous occasions, and ordinary, everyday living. We can do this easily and happily, if there is a shared aspiration for it, for finding the ways to bring our individual vows in concert with the larger good.
That means clear communication systems and processes for inviting community collaboration, as well as the vision and scaffolding provided by wise leadership. That leadership may be provided by a single person, such as a spiritual teacher, or by a cooperative system such as we have at Appamada, including teachers, Councils, and the Board. Together we engage in the ongoing alignment and definition of our intention as a community, and envision the path ahead and the world we aspire to bring into being—a world that is wise, compassionate, connected, ethical, and enlightened.
3. Right speech. In every community there are norms around speaking: who speaks, when to speak, what to speak about, who gets to speak to whom. Spiritual communities are no different. The norms may be shaped by tradition, by intention, or by accident. Even in casual, completely democratic spiritual communities—study groups, small meditation groups, and so on—there are norms for speech, as linguistic research quickly reveals. Norms are generally implicit rather than openly discussed, except when someone is new to the community or when new groups are forming up, when this topic might be part of the process. Therefore, implicit biases—around gender, race, or socioeconomic class, for example—are pervasive even though invisible to participants. Some things just never “come up.” Implicit biases are complicated by the community norms for roles. In our zendo, for example, only a teacher or a monitor can offer a correction during a zazen period. There may be particular speech events—ceremonies, or practice discussion with teachers for example, that have their own norms that structure interactions. All of these shape the life of the community, its ways of relating, and its ways of knowing itself. The norms provide structure, continuity, and meaning for the community, but they are also adaptive and dynamic. They too require ongoing inquiry in the community in order to uncover and address unconscious bas, unhealthy patterns, or drift into meaningless chatter and superficial relating. Right speech in community is foundational and so we train and cultivate skills for nonviolent communication, mindful speech, anti-racism, helpful feedback, and so on, in the service of the sangha. This also brings benefits for our families, neighborhoods, and workplaces within which our sangha is embedded.
*4. Right action. Right action is the concrete, embodied expression of right view and right intention. While a community may share a clear view of the situation, may hold the highest aspirations, and may even espouse them in their speech, without realizing them in action they remain only a dream. Right action fulfills our vow and makes it manifest in the community and in the world. Right action prevents our intentions from remaining vague ideals and fantasies. Further, right action cures disabling hesitation, doubt, anxiety, fear, and despair. In sangha it models connection and care, encouraging and inspiring others, both within and beyond the community.
In a certain sense, spiritual community can only be established through shared activity. We meditate together, engage in services and ceremonies, and deepen our connections through intensives and shared practices such as sewing, book study, and special interest groups—young Zen, Women in Zen, and so on. Appamada’s councils meet to plan the actions that will support and strengthen the community: care of the gardens, the inside of the house, the calendar agenda, and the organization of intensives. The activities of the Board guide our financial and ethical policies as a community. And importantly, there are many informal social activities, such as brunch after the Sunday program, and casual meetings on the porch. Although some of these have been suspended during the pandemic, sangha members have still found ways to come together safely in small groups—for the morning walk around the golf course and sitting together outdoors in a sangha member’s yard and the Four Seasons dharma walk. We care for those who are ill, or who have lost loved ones.
Trustworthy, wise, compassionate, and ethical action serves to build community in many ways. It engages community members so that they come to know and trust each other more deeply. It enacts the care the community shares for all beings. It brings joy, for example when members come together for a potluck or a work day.
Of special importance are right actions in the larger community. Buddhists can tend to be inwardly focused, both individually and as sanghas. But we must never forget our role in conveying the dharma for the welfare and liberation of the whole world. Appamada has marched, as a community, in support of equality for women, for people of color, for LGBTQ rights, and for science. We participate in our local interfaith alliance, teach about the dharma at the university and for various groups that meet around the area—civic groups, businesses, non-profits, schools.
Conveying the wisdom and compassion of the Buddha’s teaching beyond the community so that it can permeate the whole world is even more urgent and necessary as I write now, in the midst of global pandemic, climate crisis, and political instability. We must help humanity find a better way to live or even more of our world will perish. Our Buddhist Action Now group exemplifies taking wise action in the world, organizing the sangha for the greatest influence and impact. In coming together our collective energy is more powerful than our solitary actions, and it is an antidote to feelings of helplessness and despair.
The actions of the spiritual community speak louder than words. Although our central practice is meditation, we must not become passive or self-centered. Meditation and shared inquiry deepens our wisdom, clarity, and freedom so that our actions, both as individuals and as a community can be truly beneficial and liberating, and serve our shared aspiration and vows well.
Right action for community does not necessarily require some public expression. It may be quietly serving the needs of recent immigrants, a sangha member with cancer, or the community gardens. If we can foster more harmonious families, kinder workplaces, and an ethical and wise government, even at the local level, we will be fulfilling our bodhisattva vow through right action. When we do this together, we greatly multiply the liberating force of the dharma. We do not proselytize, we illuminate. We meet cruelty with wisdom and skillful means, we meet deprivation with compassion, we meet greed with a life of simplicity and restraint.
Together we are proving that people can live in harmony with each other, even in polarizing times, that we can cherish and learn from our differences, and that we can act in support of our precious world—free from hostility, grasping, and ignorance.
This is an overview of the first part of the Buddha’s teachings seen from the point of view of sangha. There are scholarly books, articles, and popular teachings about the Buddha’s direct teachings about sangha or civic life, when the Buddha instructed kings, fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, and his own disciples. The Buddha was very concerned with building an enlightened society as his own world was shifting from warring kingdoms to city-states. So it is important to consider what he directly said about community. But it is also very important to consider the core teachings such as the Four Noble Truths, the Precepts, the Paramitas, and the Chain of Dependent Origination not only from the individual perspective but from the much larger perspective of the community and the whole ecosystem in which we are enmeshed.
*5. Right Livelihood
Every spiritual community must find a way to support itself. In doing so it must find a middle way between two ditches. The first ditch is idealizing poverty and lack as “spiritual.” Although the Buddha and his followers embraced the freedom and simplicity of the homeless life, the sangha was well supported by wealthy donors who provided land and built monasteries, as well as being fed every day by householders even from the poorest neighborhoods on their morning begging rounds.
The Buddha did not endorse poverty as a spiritual ideal, and advised wealthy followers not to give up their resources, but to make wise use of them, supporting others and the dharma. Some spiritual communities limit themselves unnecessarily because members harbor the notion that the spiritual realm is somehow beyond base concerns with the material world. But that has never been the case. Disciples must be fed, the sangha needs a home, somehow the toilet paper, candles, and incense need to be purchased.
I met a Zen teacher who confided to me that she was worried about losing her house because her taxes had gone up. She was afraid for her sangha which had been meeting in her home for thirty years. And she told me she had been planning to leave the house to the sangha rather than to her own daughter when she died.
“Why don’t you increase the rent paid by the sangha to cover the tax increase?” I asked. Oh, she told me, shocked, the sangha doesn’t pay rent! I knew her intentions were good—she wanted to make this offering out of generosity and care, but I saw what that meant. “You’re infantilizing them! This is so unhealthy for the sangha!” I blurted out.
It is so important for a sangha to grow into a mature understanding of what it takes to support itself, and a willingness to take responsibility for it. This provides an opportunity for members to practice the heart-opening paramita of generosity, and to feel they belong and have a meaningful contribution to make in support of the whole, whether in time, effort, or financial support. This deepens the bonds of mutual trust and care.
Sanghas evolve, like humans, from helpless dependency in infancy, through stages of growing independence to a mature responsibility for not only supporting themselves, but providing for others through, for example, family programs, prison dharma, hospice work, literacy teaching, helping the homeless. Resources are needed to support future growth and sustainability. Sanghas must not fall into the ditch of embracing poverty as either a spiritual ideal or an inescapable reality.
The second ditch is the ditch of excess. This is generally not a ditch Zen communities are prone to, it is more the province of gurus and televangelists. The aversion to it often leads sanghas to fall into the opposite ditch. But when a spiritual community is fortunate in its donors, or begins to experience the comfort and ease of abundance, it is easy to grow complacent and lose spiritual vigor and clarity.
One sangha was supported by two wealthy donors, who provided for a huge house and other property and all of the sangha’s operating expenses. As a result, the sangha became dependent on these resources and did not develop a sense of financial awareness or responsibility for the sangha. As the donors grew older, one moved away, and the other gradually provided less support. The sangha struggled, then, to support itself and the property.
Large donors are a blessing in ensuring the sustainability of the sangha, and providing for needed expansion and development. But their support should not displace the fundamental responsibility every sangha member shares for the welfare of the whole sangha. And great care must be taken to ensure that donors do not use their resources to control the teachers or the sangha. Teachers in particular should be mindful and guard against favoritism with donors, or judgments or expectations based on contributions.
What are some methods used by spiritual communities for their support, their “livelihood”?
1. As we find ourselves in a capitalist ecosystem, one approach is to align with that model, offering goods or services for a price. Certainly this is a familiar model for most of our sangha members. That may mean producing or trading in goods—meditation cushions, statues, incense, altar supplies, home decor, even jewelry and art. The exchange model is well-understood even by those new to or even outside of the community. So is the concept of “pay to play,” that underlies membership in spiritual communities through pledges or “levels” of monthly contributions. Intensives, classes, workshops, talks, and even practice discussion with a teacher generally have costs, either fixed or “suggested” under such an approach.
2. Fund-raising campaigns are another way sanghas—especially larger ones, raise money for support or for special needs such as a larger space, construction, a new heating system, and so on. Major contributions from large-scale donors are sometimes the main funding model for some sanghas, as noted above. And many sanghas combine both of these approaches in their “livelihood.” There are many varieties of fund-raising campaigns, from planned giving to capital campaigns to “Zen-a-thons,” such as San Francisco Zen Center hosts. Maintaining large facilities like SFZC requires a great deal of operating, program, and maintenance capital. Organizations also raise funds through grant applications for foundations and civic organizations.
3. The generosity model. In this model, space, time, and teachings are freely offered, from a sense of abundance, not acquisition. As our practice is about liberation, our community is about providing opportunities for practice, spiritual friendship, and wise guidance on the spiritual path. In this model there are no limits or barriers for participation through registration fees for any offering, no special category called “member” to create division in the sangha. As we aspire to a sangha as diverse as the larger community, access to the dharma is freely offered.
This is not a more refined exchange model, with subtle expectations for compensation or “suggested donations.”
It is not a “pay it forward” model, which is just another version of exchange, even if a slightly more altruistic one.
A mature sangha based on the generosity model is supported by the freely offered generosity of its participants and well-wishers, which is, in turn, one of the most life-affirming, heart-expanding teachings of the Buddha. In fact, the Buddha scolded his disciples because on their begging rounds they avoided the poorest neighborhoods out of compassion. In this way, the Buddha said, they were not giving those most in need the opportunity to practice generosity.
In a capitalist society, can such a radical model work? Can a sangha survive and thrive solely on the uncoerced generosity of its participants? Won’t people just take advantage, freeloading in their own self-interest?
This generosity model has been the approach of vipassana Buddhist centers for many years. The vary in how they explain it. It is such an unfamiliar way of thinking for Americans that it requires some teaching of its own.
My own sister became quite angry and distressed that leaders of a vipassana retreat she attended wouldn’t say what was an “expected, or “average,” or “usual,” or “normal” contribution, and she struggled to decide what it was “worth.” This was complicated by the fact that it was offered online, so there was not even the typical costs for lodging or food that might have given a clue.
This is an important struggle that requires us to relinquish our cultural and personal conditioning that confuses us so that we think of everything in economic terms. Our lives become a market where every experience is weighed and expected to have an exchange value—whether the medium is money, time, power, goods, love, friendship, effort. Is this whatever—relationship, job, education, trip, spiritual practice—worth my time?
The sangha is not a marketplace and the Buddha’s teachings—especially in a hyper-capitalistic society—need to be freely offered. It is not only what the Buddha himself practiced and taught, it is a specific antidote and remedy for the painful conditions created by capitalism: greed, alienation, self-centeredness, exploitation, inequality, war, environmental degradation, consumerism, despair, species extinction, and death.
It is not easy to adopt the generosity model, and it cannot be adopted by half measures or some hybrid combination with other modes. It is an all or nothing commitment, but it is surprisingly satisfying for the sangha.
For quite a few years we have had a registration fee for classes and intensives. We began the transition to the generosity model last year, and we have found that it has not diminished the support the sangha receives. In fact, when we first began discussing the possibility with the sangha we received two large contributions to support that initiative. More importantly, we removed a barrier to participation, and this in turn has naturally fostered greater diversity. Now we are established in it, more rapidly than we expected, because of the pandemic, and it is a profound blessing.
Every spiritual community is different, of course. The path of right livelihood for a sangha must take into consideration local conditions and the values of the community. But we must not make assumptions about support based on conditioned thinking around the marketplace, the capacities of those we serve, or what churches in other faith traditions do. We are a medium for liberation. We don’t need anything elaborate to share the dharma with a world desperately in need of its wisdom and compassion.
There are so many benefits of the generosity model, both obvious and unexpected, that we strongly recommend it. Even in the face of financial adversity, then, the whole sangha can explore options and determine how best to address current conditions, while creatively envisioning future possibilities.
This issue of right livelihood for the sangha is an ongoing inquiry for the whole community. It then becomes a way to reflect on the fundamental values of the community. This model is not based on conventional notions of scarcity. It comes instead from a sense of abundance and ease that is not dependent on a balance sheet or bank account. After all, the Buddha’s teachings are an inexhaustible golden fountain of dharma.
The conversations with the sangha around right livelihood for the community will also support sangha members in deepening their personal approach to right livelihood individually, as a reflection of their own values and intentions.
*6. Right Effort
In the beginning, the community’s efforts are directed toward establishing the sangha, building relationships, core values, and principles, finding space to meet, and scheduling activity. This effort continues, but a sangha is not just a club of people interested in Buddhism. A sangha has work to do. Right effort from the ecological perspective means that a sangha is collectively working, both internally and externally, to counter the forces of greed, hostility, and delusion, relieve suffering, and liberate beings.
Right effort is wholehearted, without strain and striving, or attachment to outcomes. That effort is ongoing, in thought, as the sangha reflects together wisely, speech, as the sangha discusses together, and action, as the sangha comes into being through shared activity. In all three ways we exercise mindful, energetic care.
In meetings, for example, we begin with a brief period of silence, a time to transition mindfully from other activities to the meeting and our shared purpose. One model for discussion we have found very helpful is called Conversation Cafe. Right effort requires an ongoing mindful inquiry about how the sangha collects and directs itself in the service of our shared intention to be a beneficial influence in the world. We have a responsibility to represent and enact the dharma. When we are able to demonstrate the possibility for living with community in mutual care, trust, healthy relating, wisdom and compassion, we bring light into the world. It is not only sangha members who benefit from our efforts: the whole world is illuminated by such a community.
Right effort skillfully weaves the social fabric of a community that is resilient, alive, ethical, purposeful, and trustworthy. The heart of all collective effort in the sangha is our vow to live and be lived for the benefit of all beings. Together, the moral force of such a collective commitment cannot be overstated. It is beyond comprehension, boundless throughout space and time—even when the sangha itself is quite small. Whole universes unfurl themselves through our efforts in forging the spiritual community. Do not imagine for a moment that because the world is vast, troubled, and racked with greed, hostility, and ignorance that our efforts are meager and futile. Through spiritual community we feed a hunger most people are not even aware they are suffering from, and an existential longing for connection and care.
We teach and foster new ways of relating, working together, and communicating. These efforts of a sangha are continuously planting seeds of liberation. Without attachment to outcomes, we can be free to shape our collective efforts to address the circumstances of our unique time and place and the immediate causes and conditions creating suffering, not only in individuals, but through larger systems and ecosystems. As sanghas, we must engage in collective right effort. We cannot be content just to sit together in stillness and silence, as if visiting as spa. We have a presence, a voice, and a vow.
Each morning we avow our collective karma, take refuge together in Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, and vow to embody, together, Buddha’s Way. Alone, the bodhisattva vows to liberate all beings seem insurmountable; the only way to fully express them is together.
Consider the ugly, tragic legacy of racism. With right view, we clearly see that it is not merely the result of misguided racist individuals. We bear, all of us, the burden of collective karma, the suffering created by whole systems of oppression—schools, churches, work, legal systems—as well as the more subtle and sinister systems of privilege, power, bias, and exclusion. This collective karma, when fully comprehended, is shocking and the burden of it crushes the whole society. How can it ever be resolved?
It requires a collective effort. In order for a collective effort to be truly beneficial and liberating, it needs to come from collective wisdom and compassion and ethical principles. In other words, it depends on right intention. This is cultivated, shaped, and purified through our practice together. Taking refuge together in Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha, we prepare together to express, as community, our bodhisattva vow, and to embody it through right effort, together.
Collective karma—not only racism, but the whole mass of collective karma, including climate catastrophe, economic inequality, misogyny, political extremism, and so on—cannot be addressed through the efforts of individuals, no matter how inspiring. Individuals can only call us to collective action. Collective karma can only be resolved through collective right effort. Obviously this depends on right view, right intention, right speech, and right action. How are these qualities ever going to permeate our societies and enlighten them? It is just this way, through establishing sanghas as luminous examples of collective wisdom, compassion, and enlightened effort that we plant the seeds of collective awakening.
Our efforts, through community, become focused and powerful, like a laser that gathers scattered light waves into a single beam of light that can easily cut through steel. Those scattered individual photons are brought together and focused through a jewel, just as we, in all the scattered flurry of our everyday lives, are brought together and focused through the three jewels of Buddha—the inspiration of the Buddha as well as our own awakened nature, Dharma—the teachings of the Buddha as well as the teachings of life as it is, and Sangha—our spiritual community as well as the communion of all living beings, realizing together the path of liberation. Surely this is worthy of our wholehearted collective effort.
*7. Right Mindfulness
The Pali word usually translated as “mindfulness” is sati. As Analayo explains, a more accurate translation would be something like “lucid awakeness.” It is not something you do, but a quality of mind or being. It also has the meaning of recall or remembering. In that lucid awakeness we recall who and what we really are. We live in the light of our own being, our ultimate vow. We tend to think of this as an individual faculty or project.
The Pali word translated as “right,” samma, has the more precise meaning of “what works, what accords with reality,
What exactly is sati for a sangha? How do we have collective right mindfulness? At Appamada we teach a relational practice of Zen. That is, we understand that we awaken in and through our encounters and engagement with others.
Spiritual friendships and the larger influence of spiritual community are the medium for cultivating this lucid awakeness, both individually and collectively. Can a sangha as a whole have such a quality? I believe it certainly can, and even better, it can foster it through collective practice of the Eightfold path. What is sati samma for community?
It is when the community awakens to itself as pure potential and collective, energized activity both within the community and as a community in the world. This requires ongoing attention to the processes and presence of the sangha as a whole without getting caught in paralyzing self-analysis or cycles of blame or criticism. We ought to remember, even as a community, Dogen’s well-known expression: To study the Buddha Way is to study the self [of the community]; to study the self is to forget the self, to forget the self is to be awakened by the myriad things. No trace of realization remains, and this no trace continues endlessly.
To imagine you are alone in the cosmos is the greatest delusion. You are never apart from anything. The delusion creates a sense of separation, alienation, and despair that must be maintained by sheer mental force in the face of all the weight of evidence in reality. By now it is more obvious than ever that the same is true for spiritual community. Those communities that create and define themselves as somehow separate from anything in the whole fabric of reality, that believe in us and them, belonging and not belonging, are essentially operating as cults, no matter how large or established they are. We are ever immersed, together, in the immensity and totality of this messy world. We breathe the same air, travel the same roads, experience the effects of climate change, live with the present moment circumstances.
So how is community distinguished from other ways of being in the world, from the general chaos and noise of everything else?
I believe it is through just the collective attention, effort, and activity that is guided by sati, lucid awakeness that we wake up together, and through our relationships and shared activity. There are no barriers to engagement in these enlightening relationships and activity. Rather there is shared appreciation, respect, and care. This is not an easy quality to cultivate. We must overcome not only our cultural conditioning of individualism and self-gratification, but even our evolutionary, hardwired tribal tendency to bond with our own kind and be suspicious and hostile toward the other.
The truth is that the circumstances we face today require collective attention and action on a global scale unprecedented in our entire evolutionary history. There is no “other.” We must be agents of our own evolution beyond our current state. Sati for community means never settling into comfortable complacency. For this collective transformation to move all of us together toward thriving in a life-sustaining world, we need to foster and propagate this lucid awakeness that arises through right view, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, and right effort. How can that transformation happen except through our collective aspiration and vow? Our individual thought-world is too limited to accomplish it.
*8. Right concentration
A community, like a person, can be distracted and scattered, caught up in trivial disagreements, focusing on the unwholesome, contentious or superficial. It can chase pointless projects, dissipate its energies with too many programs, or get bogged down with endless self-analysis. In other words, it can lack right concentration. We tend to think of concentration as an effortful focus that narrows our attention to a single point. That is not quite what is meant by right concentration in this final step on the Buddha’s Eightfold Path.
Right concentration is a wholeness that is effortlessly aligned with what is, carrying our shared aspiration without distraction or fragmentation. In community, right concentration means ongoing dynamic attunement and coherence with out true purpose and aspiration, the liberation and relief of suffering for all beings, inside the community and without.
We must collect our various energies, skills, and resources into a concentrated whole in order to serve the larger good with the luminous power of the Dharma. Right concentration cultivates that collective force of shared view, intention, speech, action, livelihood, effort, and lucid awakeness. It ensures that our collective attention addresses what is most important, wholeheartedly and without distraction. There is a wholeness of purpose, meaning, and action that gives vitality and integrity to the healthy sangha.
This does not mean ignoring or dismissing what is inconvenient or disruptive, or the unconscious biases that afflict even the most well-meaning spiritual communities. Rather it means bringing all of the resources of the whole Eightfold Path to bear on our process for addressing whatever issues are arising, and whatever circumstances we are enmeshed in.
When the nation was torn (again!) by horrific examples of racial injustice endemic in our culture, and (again!) awoke to the desperate need for change, not only for individuals but for whole systems and institutions, there was a predictable flurry of well-intentioned activity fueled by outrage—protests, articles, books, workshops, task forces, and so on.
This has all been repeated, historically, every time this issue has disrupted the collective consciousness of our society, since its earliest origins. Some palliative measures are taken—“racial sensitivity” training for police, fair housing legislation, prison reforms, and so on. Because the society as a whole lacks right concentration, however, these partial measures are seldom effective or lasting at the level of lived experience.
Many sanghas initiated efforts to counter the racial injustice, prejudice and unconscious bias we are all enmeshed in together. There are book study groups, trainings to increase awareness of “whiteness” and its privilege, and outreach efforts for people of color, who are no doubt weary of this struggle for equality. There is a necessary examination of our own spiritual communities for bias and subtle barriers to participation and connection. All of these well-intentioned efforts are of course useful.
At Appamada, we wanted to address the issues of diversity, inclusiveness, and access with right concentration, not scattered and ultimately ineffective activity. We wanted to deeply understand, listen, and learn how to be effective as allies—individually and collectively—in the ongoing work of achieving true racial justice, equality, and harmony. Our concentrated vision and purpose is not tolerance or acceptance of our differences, but welcome and celebration of them. These differences enrich out spiritual community and give vitality to our collective journey in the Dharma. We are impoverished by their absence or silence.
Right concentration means, then, that the spiritual community does not busy itself with hand-wringing, self-study, or ineffective initiatives, but brings itself to meet its fundamental vow with purpose and clarity and heart. We recognize the great suffering that racial injustice has inflicted, the terrible rift it creates in our social fabric. We will never be whole until it is addressed.
Spiritual communities have a crucial role in this effort not only by example, but by providing a moral compass that can shape other institutions and their policies—media, public opinion, courts, policing, education, the workplace. It is now clear that we cannot depend on our political leaders to enact their roles and use their power with wisdom and compassion. They are too often guided by self-interest rather than the public good. But a strong and concentrated pressure from spiritual communities of all faith traditions can have the moral force through their influence on blocks of voters, to fundamentally reshape the political landscape and the minds and hearts of political actors—from politicians to lobbyists, aides, campaign managers, and media. We must continue to hold them to the highest standards of ethical conduct, care for the public good and those who are most vulnerable, and wise, compassionate action. This we spiritual communities have failed to do. Many have been racked by scandals of their own, abuses of power, finances, sexuality, and ethical conduct. As a result, there has been a great loss of spiritual authority to guide public policy. Now we can see just how essential our role is in the excess of greed, hatred, and ignorance so openly displayed by a destructive administration.
This was a necessary demolition of the influences that distorted public discourse and public policy through rigid dogma, fundamentalism, and discrimination. However, it has left a moral vacuum in the public sphere, and unfortunately this has empowered and emboldened the most unwholesome, life denying, and destructive forces, and created unimaginable devastation in mutual trust, care, and connection necessary to the social compact.
Buddhists actually have an unparalleled opportunity in this moment to provide a moral compass that does not depend on dogmatic constructions of sin and salvation, sinner and saved, exclusion and division, and a war between good and evil. It is the Buddhist understanding that all beings are Buddha Nature, that all living beings suffer, and that we have the capacity to free each other from suffering and to awaken right in this lifetime. Our precepts offer a framework for ethical conduct that leads to harmony, mutual respect, and trust in our societies, without demonizing the other. It breaks down tribal allegiances, blame, and hostility through the understanding of mutual causality, and through our vow to live and be lived for the benefit of all beings. Our planet’s survival depends on this understanding. However, to take on such a critical role we must come not from dogma or self-interest or self-righteousness, but from right view, right intention, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration.
Right concentration in spiritual community gathers that moral force and makes it powerful. It has the power to reshape and refocus public discourse and action from a narrow, ugly , and destructive preoccupation with individual rights, self-interest, greed, hostility, and willful ignorance toward mutual care and responsibility for the whole planet and all of its inhabitants.
So we must concentrate our spiritual energy into a powerful laser focus as a community. We must not squander our precious resources in pleasantries or narrow preoccupations with small-scale disagreements and petty issues, as some spiritual communities seem to do. There is too much at stake and it requires, above all, the spiritual community’s full participation and wholeness of concentration.
I have not been the most skilled at leading our own sangha toward this public role, collectively cultivating right concentration and focused action. My skill set is more in reflecting the need and possibilities through my teaching and writing, and supporting connection through social architecture, creating the structures that can enable and empower people to create a healthy, thriving, and wholesome community. My hope is that my writing will reflect our sangha’s enormous strength and capacities and inspire us to action as a community.
We are always failing forward, learning from our own mistakes and limitations. I hope I can be forgiven for these and that others will be empowered to step in with what is needed now. We must create, not hope for, the future we want to inhabit, for the benefit of all beings.
The Eightfold Path illuminates the way for healthy communities and harmonious societies. It can be a framework for shared inquiry and a way to monitor healthy development. We can go even deeper together as we consider the Buddha’s teachings on the precepts from the perspective of community.
