Developing Indigenous Leaders: Lessons in Mission from Buddhist Asia

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More Pro-Jesus than Anti-Buddha: Developing Positive Leaders

RUSSELL H. BOWERS JR.

Ministry is more sharing the good news about Jesus than it is lamenting the bad news about anyone else. It is the effort by those who have come to know the Lord to encourage others to understand, trust, and follow him as well, both as individuals and as churches. They do so out of love—because in him they have found forgiveness, acceptance, beauty, meaning, hope, healing, and truth—and out of obedience to his command. Ministry is one beggar telling another where to find rice, not bemoaning how hungry we all are before we find any.

Since 1990, a major hindrance to widespread acceptance of Christ in Cambodia has been the negative orientation of many pastors. A ministry characterized more by the ridicule and rejection of what it does not believe than by the exposition and celebration of what it does results not in joy and effective witness, but rather in unnecessary ghettoization and opposition. Unfortunately, many young pastors strike separatistic stances because their mentors have warned that adopting Christianity requires severing all ties with Buddhism—its principles, practices, and proponents. Hence, for a Cambodian to convert to Christianity means that she or he must abandon long-standing bonds to family, community, and nation. Monks are mocked, community contacts curtailed, families fragmented. To do less constitutes compromise, Timothys are told.

But is that so? It is true that in its atheism, orientation toward emptiness, cyclical view of history, and rejection of revelation, Buddhism represents the opposite of Christianity more than does any other major religion. Nevertheless there is still much that Christians can acclaim in the doctrines and doings of the dharma. To reject all carte blanche is wrong, both factually and missiologically. Therefore this chapter will attempt to show that biblical ministry is more positive than negative; that despite core differences, Christians can find and acknowledge much good in the Buddha and Buddhism; that while Christians must not embrace errant ideas or engage in anti-biblical behavior, they do interact in significant ways with non-Christian people; and that good examples can be found of how Christians may meaningfully and positively interact with their Buddhist neighbors.

BIBLICAL MINISTRY IS MORE POSITIVE THAN NEGATIVE

When Jesus introduced his ministry in Nazareth, he read from Isaiah 61:

The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. (Luke 4:18–19, citing Isa 61:1–2)

Significantly, Jesus stopped in the middle of a sentence, asserting that his present mission introduced the positive year of the Lord’s favor but not the negative day of vengeance of our God. He did so because God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him (John 3:17). Jesus will judge someday, but not now (John 5:27–30).

When Matthew sought a text to characterize Jesus’ ministry, he chose Isaiah 42:

Here is my servant whom I have chosen, the one I love, in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations. He will not quarrel or cry out; no one will hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he leads justice to victory. In his name the nations will put their hope. (Matt 12:18–21, citing Isa 42:1–4)

This is the longest Old Testament quotation in Matthew, a gospel replete with them. Matthew (following the Septuagint) uses pais mou to translate the Hebrew ‘abdi; both mean my servant, but the Greek can also mean my child. Pais when meaning servant implies a closer relationship and a more kindly regard than do diakonos or doulos; the second line of verse 18 underscores these feelings. Interestingly, Matthew uses paidion, little child, a diminutive form of pais, to refer to the young Jesus nine times in chapter two. He is a pais, not a crusader. The child/servant’s ministry will be characterized by unambiguous proclamation: he will neither avoid nor dilute the truth. But he will make this proclamation gently, not brashly, sarcastically, or arrogantly. What is pictured is a ministry so gentle and compassionate that the weak are not trampled on and crushed till justice, the full righteousness of God, triumphs. And for such a Messiah most Jews were little prepared (Carson 1984, 287).

Jesus did not ... stay around to show them who is lord or to flaunt his divinely given powers. ... He is not the kind of person who seeks dramatic confrontations for the glory of God. ... He prefers to do his work quietly and inconspicuously. This is the way God’s Messiah works, in contrast to all false Messiahs. ...

Jesus’ quiet tactics have turned people away from John’s day to ours. But maybe Jesus’ way, beautifully outlined for us in this Isaiah quote, has more to suggest for revolution and reform than we credit. To be sure, its failure to shout and scream, as revolutionaries and the Spirit-filled of all times are wont to do, its failure to work in the middle of the streets (as contemporary revolutionary and revivalist strategies both advise), and its strange penchant for working with bruised rather than with polished reeds, with flickering rather than with glowing flames, will often turn some people away from Jesus. ...

Jesus’ method clear to the end will be the method of quiet revolution, the unlikely tactic of treating persons with great respect—the method of gentleness. There is nothing sensational or special about this method—but it has been determined ever since his baptism at least that this is the way Jesus will go, and Matthew now certifies this way as the prophetic way. ... And though Matthew’s emphasis in the last two verses (following Isaiah) has been on what the Servant of the Lord will not do (stressed no less than four times), nevertheless, this Servant will never rest in his nonviolent zeal until he brings justice to earth. ... The Servant is quiet but not quietistic; nonviolent but not noninvolved; gentle but passionate for justice—a justice, we are promised, that he shall one day successfully bring to victory. (Bruner 1987, 453–54)

To be sure, there were times when Jesus spoke and acted strongly, and was moved by deep emotion (Matt 23; John 2:14–17; Mark 3:5). But these occasions occurred in confrontations with those who had the Scriptures and should have known better. When the Romans nailed him to the cross, Jesus neither excoriated (as in Matt 23) nor acted (as in John 2) nor gave in to anger (as in Mark 3) but prayed, Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing (Luke 23:34). Strong reactions were exceptions; the characteristic of Jesus’ ministry was the gentleness of Matthew 12. Examples could be multiplied: when persecuted he practiced and counseled not fighting but fleeing (Matt 10:23); he rejected James and John’s suggestion to call down fire and destroy the inhospitable (Luke 9:51–56); Peter summarized Jesus’ career for Cornelius by describing how he went around doing good and healing (Acts 10:38). Jesus intends to draw all people to himself (John 12:32), not drive them away from others. The combined testimony of these texts is that Jesus’ ministry was overwhelmingly positive and noncombative.

So it is not surprising that the rest of the New Testament prescribes a similar straightforward but nevertheless respectful demeanor on the part of Christ’s ambassadors. Key passages include 2 Timothy 2:24–25 (And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. Opponents must be gently instructed); 1 Peter 3:15–16 (Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect, keeping a clear conscience); and James 3:17–18 (the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. Peacemakers who sow in peace raise a harvest of righteousness). (For further discussion see Bowers 2004, 41–59, 71–79.)

DESPITE CORE DIFFERENCES, CHRISTIANS CAN FIND AND ACKNOWLEDGE MUCH GOOD IN THE BUDDHA AND BUDDHISM

Paul began his address to the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers in Athens by commenting on their altar to an unknown god. He agreed that there was such a god, proposed to introduce him, and went on to approvingly quote Aratus and Cleanthes. His doing so implied neither that the apostle endorsed all that these poets said, nor that he was compromising Christian faith. A dozen times the Old Testament describes creation in terms of Near Eastern myths: a repressive monster (Leviathan or Rahab) restrains creation, a heroic god defeats the monster, releases the forces necessary for life, and ultimately controls these forces. This does not mean that the Old Testament writers accepted these myths as factual. Jesus illustrated biblical truth by talking about an unjust steward and a judge who neither feared God nor cared about people. He said that sometimes nonbelievers act more prudently than do people of the light, and on one occasion urged his hearers to follow his enemies’ words though not their behaviors (Luke 16:1–9; 18:1–8; Matt 23:2–3). From these examples we must conclude that it is wrong to automatically and uncritically reject all that non-Christian people think and do as if it were evil. It is not. Pretending otherwise aids neither our own walk with the Lord, nor our invitation to others to join in following him. By contrast, honest assessment that is willing to acknowledge strengths is more likely to be heeded when it does uncover weaknesses, and can pinpoint these more precisely.

With this in mind it might be helpful for Christians ministering to Buddhists to open-mindedly evaluate the Buddha and his message. We may learn from and applaud what he said and did well before zeroing in on where we differ and why we believe there is a better Way. Without attempting to be exhaustive in either the number or description of some positives, I shall simply mention a few:

1) He was neither a materialist nor a hedonist. If, as seems reasonable, we accept the traditional outlines of Siddhartha Gautama’s biography, in his early years he enjoyed a life of wealth, power, pleasure, and ease. Most people who have these seek nothing more. But when confronted with the realities of disease, age, and death, the prince admitted that his privileges neither ultimately satisfied nor represented life’s summum bonum. One is reminded of Qoheleth, the author of Ecclesiastes, who after [denying] myself nothing my eyes desired and [refusing] my heart no pleasure concluded that everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind (Eccl 2:10–11).

2) He was sincere and wholehearted in his search for truth. We may disagree, for example, with the way Siddhartha abandoned his wife and son, but must admit the sincerity of his search for truth. Convinced that there must be a way to surmount inevitable suffering and death, the twenty-nine-year-old prince decisively abandoned his assets to discover it. He was not one who put his hand to the plow and then looked back (Luke 9:62). He was following the repeated advice in Proverbs to cry out for insight and value wisdom above silver and gold, and when he found what he considered the pearl of great price he sold all he owned to buy it (Prov 2:1–5; 3:13–18; 16:16; Matt 13:45–46). Many Christians would do well to emulate his priorities, single-mindedness, and sincerity.

3) He was willing to admit when he was wrong and change course. Abandoning princely power and position at age twenty-nine was not the only time Siddhartha renounced his previous ideology and practice. After devoting six years to rigorous ascetic practice that nearly starved him, Siddhartha realized that spiritual reality was not to be found in this extreme any more than it had been in indulgence. So at age thirty-five he turned once again from that to which he had so deeply devoted himself and adopted a middle way. His rejection of asceticism constituted a tacit admission that for six years he had been wrong. When he did so his five companions turned from him as a compromiser. The fear of man is a snare, and it is disastrous to love human praise more than praise from the divine (Prov 29:25; John 12:43). Obviously Siddhartha was not seeking praise from God. But he was at least seeking to understand and practice truth, and once he realized that he was not on the right path, he did not allow the fear of his fellows or rejection by former compatriots to deter him from pursuing a new direction. Christians similarly must turn from beliefs or practices—even of fellow believers—that prove unbiblical, and be willing to be misconstrued as compromisers when they do. Buddhists likewise can be reminded that recognizing the error of a way long followed and turning from it is a very Buddhist thing to do.

4) He acted on what he believed. Many people, Christians included, say they believe one thing, but act in another way. Jesus asked, Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? (Luke 6:46). When Siddhartha came to believe that he must find a way out of suffering, and then realized that asceticism was not that way, he acted on what he believed.

5) Once enlightened, he selflessly taught others. Siddhartha’s struggle for enlightenment had been long and hard. The new understanding that came to him under the bodhi tree had been difficult to attain and grasp. He therefore concluded, If I were to teach the Dharma, others would not understand me, and that would be wearying and troublesome for me. As he thus considered keeping to and enjoying for himself the truth he had uncovered, Sahampati Brahmā, probably the most important god of that time, appeared and urged, Let the Blessed One teach the dharma, let the Sublime One teach the Dharma. There are beings with little dust in their eyes who are wasting [or perishing] through not hearing the Dharma. There will be those who will understand (MN i. 168). And so, moved by compassion for the unenlightened, the Buddha devoted the remaining forty-five years of his life to traveling, teaching the Dharma, and training disciples. There are, by contrast, Christians who do little or nothing with the good news that has brought them salvation. Around them are beings who are perishing through not hearing the gospel. The Buddha resembles Paul, who selfishly speaking would have preferred dying and being with Christ, but knew that his staying and serving on earth would be more helpful to others (Phil 1:21–26).

6) He urged his followers to think, not just accept his word. Enlightenment, the goal of all Buddhists, is the emancipation of one’s mind from false ideas and one’s practice from impurities. It is understanding and embracing things as they really are.

To attain liberation, we first have to examine things closely in order to come to know and understand their true nature. Then we have to behave in a way appropriate to that true nature. This is the Buddhist teaching; this we must know and bear in mind. Buddhism has nothing to do with prostrating oneself and deferring to awesome things. It sets no store by rites and ceremonies such as making libations of holy water, or any externals whatsoever, spirits and celestial beings included. On the contrary, it depends on reason and insight. Buddhism does not demand conjecture or supposition; it demands that we act in accordance with what our own insight reveals and not take anyone else’s word for anything. If someone comes and tells us something, we must not believe him without question. We must listen to his statement and examine it. Then if we find it reasonable, we may accept it provisionally and set about trying to verify it for ourselves. (Buddhadasa n.d., 13–14)

Many Buddhists today might be surprised at this description. But the mind was important to the Buddha, and he urged his hearers to take not even his own statements for granted, but to test matters for themselves. The Noble Eightfold Path is usually divided into the categories of insight, morality, and concentration (prajñā, śīla, samādhi). But the first two steps on that Path—right understanding and right thought (that is, accepting the Four Noble Truths and deciding to live in accordance with them)—are initially matters of faith. A person hears the dharma and decides to provisionally accept and live by it. Later, after having proven for him or herself its validity, right understanding and right thought become matters of the practitioner’s own insight (prajñā). The Path and Truths are thereafter no longer matters of faith in someone else’s word. At any rate, Buddhadasa’s description of Buddhism parallels the Apostle Paul’s advice to the Thessalonians: Do not treat prophecies with contempt but test them all; hold on to what is good, reject whatever is harmful (1 Thess 5:20–22). In other words, listen to input from others, but do not accept it uncritically. Test for yourself what is said; hold onto what is true, and reject what is false. Christians may (and do) question whether the Buddhist dharma in fact describes things as they really are. But we agree that trying to discover and base one’s life on true truth is essential, and that blind acceptance of someone’s speech is not the way to find out what it is.

7) He was a master teacher. The Pali sutras record the Buddha’s interactions with a wide variety of inquirers who either craved his counsel or derided his dharma. In most of these encounters the Buddha showed himself to be a master teacher. He knew what he believed and was never shaken or sidetracked from it. Rather than always lecture his interviewer he often, like Socrates, asked questions. He adapted his method to the capacities of and issues important to the one(s) who sat before him or respectfully to one side. Indeed, a value of the later Mahāyāna tradition is upāya or skillful means, the adaptation of the message to the audience. In employing upāya the Buddha implied that his students’ learning was more important than his speaking. While it is possible to take exception to some of the content that he taught, or even the central thrust of that content, the impartial observer will acknowledge that Siddhartha Gautama’s method was skilled and insightful.

8) He led by example. He taught that possessions do not satisfy, and did not himself labor to acquire them. He taught the importance of meditation, and regularly meditated. He continued to personally collect alms. The Buddha thus remained centered and true to his own dharma throughout his forty-five years of teaching, and had no reason to advise his followers, Do as I say, not as I do. One is reminded of Jesus (John 13:15; 1 Pet 2:21) and Paul (1 Cor 11:1; Phil 3:17; 2 Thess 3:7).

9) He taught some good principles. Up until now we have considered the man. This paper cannot attempt to evaluate his entire system, or even outline all that is admirable within it. Suffice it to say that some at least of what the Buddha taught is quite commendable. The Five Precepts (though not all ten), in both their negative and positive thrusts, urge basic biblical morality. The four illimitables (S. apramāna; P. appamañña) or qualities of which there can never be enough—loving kindness (the wish for all beings, oneself and others, to be well and happy), compassion (the wish for the sufferings of all beings to cease), sympathetic joy (delight in the good fortune of others and the wish for it to continue), and equanimity (calm balance or evenness of mind, especially under stress)—are noble aspirations. Simple honesty seems to require that we freely acknowledge that some of what the Buddha urged is very good. Doing so implies neither disloyalty to Christ, nor that one is a Buddhist.

WHILE CHRISTIANS MUST NOT EMBRACE ERRANT IDEAS OR ENGAGE IN ANTI-BIBLICAL BEHAVIOR, THEY DO INTERACT IN SIGNIFICANT WAYS WITH NON-CHRISTIAN PEOPLE

I am not assuming or arguing for the first point—that Christians must neither endorse anti-Christian thought nor engage in anti-biblical deeds. We do not do evil that good may come, or compromise where Scripture speaks clearly. However, on matters on which the Bible is silent, we often find not only permission to participate with non-Christians but even positive encouragement to do so.

Paul’s encounter with the Athenians has already been mentioned. His address was given in a non-Christian setting (the Areios Pagos, named in honor of the Greek god of war), described God in universal rather than specifically Judeo-Christian terms (the God who made the world and everything in it), and approvingly cited nonbiblical sources for support (Aratus and Cleanthes). These contrast sharply with an earlier gospel presentation, which was similar in essential message and purpose, but verbalized differently because it was made to Jews in Pisidian Antioch (synagogue, The God of the people of Israel, Psalms and Isaiah). The literary parallels between Acts 13 and 17 strongly suggest equal Lukan approval of both messages. Before addressing the Areopagus, Paul had invested the time not only to observe (theōreō), but to examine carefully (anatheōreō) the Athenians’ objects of worship, so that he could understand local ideology and be able to incisively evaluate it (Bowers 2005, 79–81). His doing so reflected his philosophy of ministry of becoming like one not having the law ... so as to win those not having the law (1 Cor 9:21). The point for us is that the apostle did not dismiss all non-Christian thought or religion out-of-hand, but salvaged what he could to enable himself to connect with his audience, stimulate their understanding, and win some