A Journey to Buddhism in the American South
The writer would like to stay anonymous
Now the title may be a bit misleading, perhaps a bit contentious, surely the Sangha is a pillar on the path to enlightenment. Certainly I found that community is everything. Geographically outside of cities, most of the world does not have many Buddhist communities. As a consequence, journeys to the Buddha, for better or worse, can be lonely for many years. One must try to adhere to the Eightfold Path all by themselves. Even to try to exhibit virtues of right thought and right action without ever putting the label of ‘Buddhist’ upon one-self. To try to live simply by doing.
Those who do not live in the old south of the United States likely have certain ideas of what the region means- the negativity perhaps being too obvious. The painful legacy of slavery, the stereotypes of the region and the actual prejudice that is expressed in daily life is very real. Flags of the Southern rebellion still fly as resentment grows.
Some may believe then that the human landscape is in complete contradiction with the teachings of Buddhism. Living in the Carolinas my entire life, I certainly understand how far the lifestyle seems from the teachings of the Buddha, especially concerning racism and the popularity of sports hunting. I recall as a child visiting a gas station selling shirts with the words “happiness is a warm coon pile” referring to the indiscriminate hunting of deer, and I always found this attitude towards killing jarring. Yet, I still do not think the Southern American culture and Buddhism have to be mutually exclusive.
I grew up on an island off the shore of the mainland, in some ways the community unique, with its people not entirely leaving behind the Old English traditions of their ancestors that arrived 350 years ago. Like most others in the area I was raised a Protestant Christian; on this island there are many churches of different denominations; Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, but no other religions. Catholics are almost as exotic to the area as non-Christians. Despite the seemingly many different denominations, their theologies are mostly identical.
I will remark that if there were any differences, it were ideological divides that split each church if not in name then in reality. In the church I grew up in, there was a hardline faction that constantly spoke of “fighting the next war for Christ”, competing with a smaller group quietly advocating for compassion. Throughout my childhood the former grew more in power than the latter.
Particularly troubling to me was the teaching that non-Christians would face divine punishment in the ‘end times’ just for holding another belief system. I was confused even more when this teaching could be applied to other Christians. I recall one church-goer proclaiming that all Christians who had lived before the Lutheran Reformation would descend to Hell because of their Catholicism. Even though I grew up in an isolated village, I started to grasp from atlases and history books how diverse the world might be. When I heard narrow proclamations from local organizations, I started to think that their teachings were refusing to acknowledge civilizations they didn’t want to see. I don’t mean to negatively label an entire community, but often I felt a negative energy.
Why do I spend time critiquing another faith? Because I do not think my experiences are unique on this point. I believe thousands grew up in the region but are unsure how to reconcile their cognitive dissonance with their environment. At the age of 13 I made the personal decision to leave my Christian faith behind entirely. At first I told next to no one. I did not want to cause trouble for myself or my loved ones. Unfortunately, I felt misplaced anger and mystery.
Because of my background, I still think about the historical Jesus Christ from time to time. Shakyamuni and Christ are different theologically, but I hope that the two, as fellow advocates of love, would have been friends had they met one another. I am not suggesting syncretism, but I always remind myself of the common human element of all sincere religions.
The teachings of Buddhism came to me not as much as a tidal wave but a trickling stream, and not always directly. As I started reading holy books from all faiths from the world I found out about faiths that have some* shared history with Buddhism. I remember coming across the Dao De Ching, which then led to discovering a dusty unopened Lotus of the Wonderful Law in my high school library. At first, it was a bit hard to read, but I kept going; I particularly remember the compassion of Shakyamuni as he patiently reached out to disciples, even those who contradicted him. He explained metaphorically that he should save all those from the burning house (suffering), even when ridiculed by followers. At least in my opinion, I had found an example of compassion, perhaps even love. As the internet became more accessible to me, I started searching more than more, with questions about belief, meditation, and how Buddhist communities are alike.
Not long after my high school graduation, my only friend who had ever spoken to me about Buddhism before that point died unexpectedly. He had barely hit his mid-twenties and was survived by his child. I was reminded then as Shakyamuni said about the fragility of all things, about the relationship between attachments and suffering. I had a wake-up call, that I myself needed to improve- and that included letting go of resentments I had -to stop blaming others, and to work on being more compassionate.
Despite the history of the South, I am convinced that there are traces of enlightenment or at least goodness in the region, in both the geography and in its people. Maybe the spirit came from the era before colonization, but the feeling is there. It exists in the honor system, where someone will leave produce to sell and not guard them because they know the purchaser will be fair. The spirit exists in the little acts of kindness individuals do for each other that involve generosity or patience. There may be objections that such behaviors are not reserved for Buddhism, and I agree they are not, but I find that knowing or unknowing that such good actions must be in accordance with Buddhist teachings.
The island I grew up on is a place of peace, and one finds many quiet spaces to meditate. I remember while working as a landscaper finding a spot on top of cliffs facing the direction of the ocean - the tranquility which existed under the live oaks and tupaloos, soothed by the lapping of the shore below. My coworker and I, who surprisingly turned out to also be a convert to Buddhism, made a little shrine that was hidden, yet present. I always took care of this place until I left, and the final time I was there I tried to keep it tidy to respect the earth. I still found other places to meditate, including pristine beaches, soccer fields at night, and grassy hills. I read (and still do) the Dhammaphada and Tripaktia. My journey was almost completely alone, as I came to embrace Buddhism with all of my heart.
I will never forget a college friend of mine, an international student from Nepal who gave me my first Buddha; it was the act of kindness as much as the object that made me smile.
Sanghas in the American South do exist, but exclusively in cities all of which can be a great distance from the hundreds of remote villages which dot the landscape. When I was in my junior year in college I finally visited a temple in the Raleigh/Durham area following Tibetan traditions. What struck me most was how the service was organized, as attendees were permitted to ask questions to the teachers; this was very unusual to me coming from a background where ministers would drill their views into the congregations. I only visited once, but the scene left a deep impression on me. Without any bias of supporting any one Buddhist doctrine over others, the Kadampa Center as it is called encouraged me to think more about the Sangha. I wondered and still wonder if any Buddhist communities could be set up in mid-sized to smaller towns.
In 2019, I moved up to New York City only to return to the South when the outbreak approached the city in earnest. My first weekend in the city I started searching for Buddhist places, unsure what I would find, and I came upon the New York Buddhist Church almost by happenstance. I will never forget the kindness which was shown to me there. When I first walked in, I was a bit terrified. I had not been in the city for five days and I had no idea what to expect. I remember trembling the first time I gave an incense offering.
Graciously, I was given permission to watch the funeral rights for a still-living man be discussed. Even though I didn't know anyone there, I was welcomed completely. The Sunday and mediation services illustrated the value of Sangha, working together to help one another find spiritual peace. Revered Earl Ikeda spoke to me of “working in consideration of the team.” I came to understand the beauty of Shinran Shonin’s teachings of Buddha’s universality. I came to the temple frequently, and was invited over for Christmas. Those days were unforgettable. In thinking about the future of Buddhism, I think the inclusive attitude “come as you are” could help many lost or suffering beings find their way.
In one of my last conversations with a friend of mine, I brought up the idea of introducing the teachings of Buddha to the southern states. I talked about how there may be opportunities to reach many people who by occurance of upbringing and geography have never had an opportunity to hear the message about compassion or enlightenment. My friend asked “Is the South ready for Buddhism?”
I paused at this question. In the South, there are entrenched traditions and structures of power which do not appreciate change. But, if anything, the history of Buddhism demonstrates that well-meaning teachers can adapt Shakyamuni’s path for new cultures. This was the case with the transmission from Nepal, to India, Sri Lanka, China and Japan. Was it not? Whatever resistance may come, the native culture will not and should not be replaced, because the message itself is universal.
I answered after thinking that maybe the South is not ready in a sense of being exposed. Individuals, families, and entire countries are often unprepared by changes, good and bad. Perhaps someone will never be ‘ready,’ but that doesn't mean that Buddhists should not be paying more attention to the region, to build communities of warmth and love that can ease the suffering of the many. Perhaps there will be obstacles and hindrances. All of the above means that regardless if one is ready, it is definitely necessary.
Namu Amida Butsu
*Note: I am not saying that Buddhism is alike to other faiths such as Hinduism, Jain, or Taoism, but that there were some historical connections that I came across as I was exploring. I certainly do not mean to say that the Dao Te Ching is a Buddhist cannon text for it is not.
