“You need to stay independent so as not to lose your true priorities”
—Gampopa
It seems to me that in looking at how to structure an American Buddhist “clergy,” the particular tradition in which one is working needs to interact with a functional analysis, and that the result will be very different depending on the character of the tradition. By “functional analysis,” I mean both looking at the culture in which one will be “clerging,” and also looking at who one’s “flock” is likely to be and what they are interested in and capable of achieving within the tradition’s range of possibilities. In looking at different Buddhist traditions, one thing that seems to vary a huge amount is how much stuff—in terms of doctrinal knowledge, experience and personal “realization”—it is necessary to learn and integrate in order to function at the level of “clergy” in the places from which the traditions have come. In that respect, categories like “monk” and “householder” can be a little misleading, and can imply a similarity among different traditions and context that might not really be accurate.
Looking especially at the Tibetan traditions as they operate in America, it often seems as if “monk” is more a matter of dress code and hair style than a substantial limitation of conduct. On the other hand, “lama” frequently has a more rigidly defined meaning. Mostly, one has to successfully complete a three-year retreat to the satisfaction of the retreat master, although occasionally someone is publicly recognized as such by an especially respected teacher and accepted by the teacher’s community. Except for displaced Tibetans, though, the position of “monk” as resident of a monastic institution without having to pay rent is practically nonexistent.
A lot of things that the Western lamas are expected to do don’t require a three-year retreat. They give public talks and write pieces introducing Buddhism to people who don’t know much about it, they often give teachings on the exoteric intellectual framerwork of Buddhism, they do “pastoral counseling,” and they serve as community leaders. But some of the things they are expected to do really do require a three-year retreat. They teach practitioners advanced meditation techniques and help those practitioners get past obstacles and wrong turns, which means that they need to have gotten far enough with those techniques themselves so that they know what they’re talking about and can earn credibility with the practitioners. That means that they have to have had certain experiences and signs of attainment that are fairly well-defined in the traditions, and that experienced teachers can recognize with a high degree of reliability. I’ve met enough Western retreat graduates to be convinced that the traditional process works very well in this regard.
So, I think that Tibetan traditions in America could probably do without an emphasis on the monk-householder distinction, but not without the standards and training system for producing lamas. Since the latter seems to be a functional requirement, it makes a lot of sense to organize the larger community around supporting and preserving it. That also means that “clergy” in a Tibetan Buddhist context is probably going to be an uncomfortable fit with the potential to mislead as often as it explains, because the word comes out of a context that has widely different expectations of the kinds of activities and qualifications it covers, whereas “lama” is very clear and well-understood. Whether this kind of thing applies to other Buddhist traditions I don’t know.
I do think, though, that Tibetan Buddhism in the West has created a niche for scholars that is new. Traditionally, the scholars are khenpos and geshes, and they are also practitioners and lamas. Traditionally, they start preparing for this when they are 8 or 10 years old, too, which is not practical in the West, and indeed, might be considered child abuse under some circumstances. But lots of Ph.D. scholars in the West are active in practitioner communities, are able to provide many of the same services as khenpos and geshes to practitioners, and are recognized by the lineage hierarchies as occupying special and respected positions. Some of this is because of the continuing need for translators, and some is because a lot of the important ideas are highly complex and difficult to understand without years of study. This kind of thing is certainly a role of “service,” but not really something that falls under “clergy.” Having downed a fair amount of cabernet with some of these folks, I think that’s probably all for the best, too, because these are not always people you would want to go to for help fixing your marriage or curing alcoholism, say.
I tend to agree that the “Dharma Franchise” is not an especially functional model. Quite often, it tends to be a handle for ego, which undercuts what Buddhism is all about. It also gets annoying and depressing when a scene seems to center more around fundraising than practice, as it does when a community gets tied up with building elaborate, traditional-type structures. At least within the Tibetan tradition, this can be as much a shortcoming of the Tibetan teachers as their Western students, since they don’t seem to be emphasizing the models in their traditional system of self-supporting (not to say non-supporting) practitioners. This is an area in which it wouldn’t be a bad thing for more Westerners to push back.
I’m still undecided on the whole matter of “socially-engaged” Buddhism. On one hand, I’m not convinced by the rejection of social activism as entirely an ego-based distraction; the reason there are so many good teachers here is that Western political philosophy has created a much better environment for practice here than currently exists in, say, Tibet and China. But on the other hand, the most useful thing to do in Buddhism is meditate a lot, and American Buddhists seem to spend a lot of time and effort looking for something—anything—to do besides meditate. I wouldn’t much like the idea of a “Liberation Buddhism,” for example. Among other things, accomplishing things politically most often means putting together enough power on one side to force one’s way of doing something on people on the other side who don’t want to do things that way, and that’s a pretty karma-creating activity.
So, I’m for taking a lot of care in trying to craft modern “clergy” roles, to insure that the substance that caused us to choose Buddhism over Unitarianism, for example, is preserved. But we are reasonably good at functional analysis in the West, and we shouldn’t be afraid to do something we’re good at.
W.B.
