Part 7 (1/2)

So I understood Rav Kook very well-the contemptuous att.i.tudes I had toward Gentile spirituality had blocked me from ever looking for spirituality in Judaism. They were the mountains I had to climb over to reach G.o.d.

Yet I don't think a dialogue with Christians could have led me to this place. I had too many resistances there-I was too aware of how many times in the past Christians had killed Jews in the name of their savior. The beauty of dialogue with Buddhists, as several of us had noted, was they had no baggage with Jews. Tolerance is a very strong Buddhist tradition.

In ancient times, strangers meeting along the Chinese Tibetan border would greet each other, ”Sir, to which sublime tradition do you belong?” That was the spirit in which the Dalai Lama approached Jews. And that was the key to the success of the dialogue so far. He had asked us for our ”secret.” It was good that he asked, but that he thought that we had such a secret was sweetest of all. He had reflected Jews back to themselves with an uncommon generosity of spirit, with no hostility, grievance, anger, certainly no contention. In that reflection, Judaism was revealed more fully and beautifully.

Yitz Greenberg found that a great bonus of every dialogue he had ever been in over the past twenty years was seeing a new constellation of yourself and your fellow Jews. Part of that new constellation for me was Yitz Greenberg's emphasis on the power of interfaith dialogue. And another new star was the Jewish esoteric that Zalman Schachter had introduced.

I thanked Yitz for his comments and, as we parted, saw Zalman, who characteristically had gotten out ahead of the rest of us. A crowd of monks on the temple porch caught the last sunlight on their broad faces and maroon robes, while below them this tall rabbi with a white beard in a fur streimel streimel and a white turtleneck, half beatnik and half Hasid, was raising his arms. It looked like a serious discussion, and I saw Marc Lieberman listening in. But I just had time to take a photo of Zalman and the monks before the whole tantric debate school poured out of the temple. The Jewish visitors took seats to the back while the monks a.s.sembled to demonstrate the ancient art of Buddhist dialectics. and a white turtleneck, half beatnik and half Hasid, was raising his arms. It looked like a serious discussion, and I saw Marc Lieberman listening in. But I just had time to take a photo of Zalman and the monks before the whole tantric debate school poured out of the temple. The Jewish visitors took seats to the back while the monks a.s.sembled to demonstrate the ancient art of Buddhist dialectics.

They faced each other in long rows on the porch, chanting. The deep sound ringing in the courtyard cleared the air of any lingering fatigue from the hours we'd spent indoors. The debate master, a senior monk, posed a question to two young contenders. The first made his case, rattling off an argument in great bursts of syllables. As punctuation, he wound up his right arm like a baseball pitcher and slapped his palm down hard on his extended left hand, smiling in triumph. (Symbolically he was raising up wisdom with the right hand, crus.h.i.+ng wrong views with the left.) Then the young monks urged him on with a cheer, one long Wooooooo, peaking in pitch like a pa.s.sing train and sharply punctured by three shouts and claps of the hand.

It was very animated and medieval, metaphysics as football. The debaters pushed and shoved or grabbed each other's robes to take the floor. One monk pulled his mala mala beads slowly back over his forearm, stretching his bow and releasing an arrow of argument. Then several monks jumped into the fray, all gesturing and arguing heatedly at once, lifting their arms into the air and pointing in ten directions. I had no idea how the judges could sort this out. beads slowly back over his forearm, stretching his bow and releasing an arrow of argument. Then several monks jumped into the fray, all gesturing and arguing heatedly at once, lifting their arms into the air and pointing in ten directions. I had no idea how the judges could sort this out.

Zalman Schachter grabbed Moshe Waldoks's sleeve. ”Give me the two reasons why you have to kosher meat with salt!” he cried. ”Tell me the two authorities and what do they say!” Then he slapped his hands and these two ex-yes.h.i.+va buchers buchers broke into laughter. broke into laughter.

Karma Gelek offered us a more solemn play-by-play. The monks were debating a commentary on a Buddhist root text, the Pramanavartikkam Pramanavartikkam (Valid cognition commentary), written by the Mahayanist, Dharmakirti. ”At the moment, their topic is how to establish through logical reasoning, the cause of the future life.” Their rough verbal jousting over sublime metaphysics showed both sides of the Tibetan character, fierce nomads subdued by a gentle religion. According to their myth, the first Tibetan was the son of a bodhisattva and a monkey demoness. (Valid cognition commentary), written by the Mahayanist, Dharmakirti. ”At the moment, their topic is how to establish through logical reasoning, the cause of the future life.” Their rough verbal jousting over sublime metaphysics showed both sides of the Tibetan character, fierce nomads subdued by a gentle religion. According to their myth, the first Tibetan was the son of a bodhisattva and a monkey demoness.

A few minutes later I found myself riding back with two more firm believers in a future life. Though happy the first dialogue session had gone so well, Michael Sautman had picked up an implicit challenge from Zalman: Why be a Hindu? Why be a Buddhist? We have everything we need in Judaism.

Marc Lieberman responded with a joke. ”Since Zalman includes in Judaism all the religions on the face of the earth he's right.” Their discussion took off from there as our car twisted down switchbacks from McLeod Ganj to the lower part of town.

Sautman: I don't know anything about kabbalah or Jewish mysticism. I don't know anything about kabbalah or Jewish mysticism.

Lieberman: Well, I certainly can't compete with him on the level of his rabbinic knowledge, he's a scholar and I'm not. Well, I certainly can't compete with him on the level of his rabbinic knowledge, he's a scholar and I'm not.

Sautman: That's right. That's right.

Lieberman: But I can tell you also that he's eclectic and imaginative and doesn't draw distinctions between his own experiences, be they induced by trance, meditation, inspiration... But I can tell you also that he's eclectic and imaginative and doesn't draw distinctions between his own experiences, be they induced by trance, meditation, inspiration...

Sautman: Oh, I see (chuckling)... Oh, I see (chuckling)...

Lieberman:...or whatever, and the traditions of the past. I think he feels it's one continuum of experience and that any symbols or signs or traditions that can help express that experience go along with his energy, which is that of constant creation. He's like a Hindu G.o.d.

Sautman: But if in fact there was a lost tradition of Jewish mysticism, meditation, reincarnation, it's great that Zalman is here to recreate that. But if in fact there was a lost tradition of Jewish mysticism, meditation, reincarnation, it's great that Zalman is here to recreate that.

Lieberman: No one else has the courage to talk about it other than to quote it as a scholar, and he's quoting it to you as someone who actually believes that this stuff could be real. No one else has the courage to talk about it other than to quote it as a scholar, and he's quoting it to you as someone who actually believes that this stuff could be real.

According to Lieberman, when Zalman spoke to the debating monks, one said, ”How do you believe in reincarnation?” He said, ”Well, I know it's there.” The monk just smiled at him without missing a beat. ”That's not a logical answer, why do you believe in it?”

He thought this ill.u.s.trated the weakness of Rabbi Schachter's approach. ”Zalman says: 'The truth is, I may not believe it tomorrow. Every day I believe something different.'” To Marc, that really summed up a lot.

The JUBUs' critique of Zalman hit home. Because, in the days ahead as I talked to Jewish Buddhists, I came to realize that the key problem for them with the Jewish esoteric was its inaccessibility. In effect, Marc and Michael were saying that Judaism may have this great stuff in its attic. But Buddhism has it here and now.

For all the talk among the Jewish delegates about authenticity, and being representative of Jews back home-the JUBUs were sensing a major gap between theory and practice. Certainly this was true of Zalman's presentation. As he himself had made clear, very few Jews know much about the deep way, the hidden way, of kabbalah.

But the same critique could apply as well to Yitz's more traditional teaching. The fact is, the vast majority of American Jews do not celebrate Shabbat the way Yitz had depicted so beautifully. Nor has the survival of Jews in America, by and large, rested on their always remembering the Promised Land. Throughout our history, most American Jews have dumped both Shabbat and kashrut kashrut as fast as you can say a.s.similate. as fast as you can say a.s.similate.

What gave Rabbi Greenberg's presentation a firm footing was that he spoke with great integrity of the Judaism that he lived and that represented a solid community of Jews back home.

Zalman's case was different. I felt he was representing a Judaism that once was, and that yet might be. For that reason, I didn't care that he interpreted the tradition as flowing into his own experience, his imagination, his dreams, his everyday life. He was agenting for change, for Jewish renewal. To me, renewal seemed exactly what was called for today in all traditions. What good was the rich storehouse of the esoteric in Judaism if it was only available in freeze-dried scholarly packages?

As Yitz Greenberg knew well, true dialogue goes both ways. If the Jews had come as missionaries of the secret of survival, that mission was now being transformed. The Dalai Lama's presence-his ”holiness”-was a living affirmation of the power of Buddhist teachings. That was unsettling because up until that point, despite a certain lip service to the concept of dialogue, the Jews had largely conceived of themselves as bringing their Torah to Dharamsala.

But Zalman Schachter was not surprised at what was unfolding. He told me that evening over dinner, ”I didn't come just to sell, but also to buy.”

10.

Shabbat Shalom and Tashe Delek.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 26, DHARAMSALA.

Friday morning after prayers, Yitz and Blu Greenberg, Paul MendesFlohr, Joy Levitt, Marc Lieberman, and Moshe Waldoks returned to Tsuglakhang, the main temple in Thekchen Choeling, for the All Himalayan Conference on the ”five traditional sciences.”

This would be another historic first: a formal address by Jews to a group of Buddhist religious leaders from all parts of Asia. But as we were settling into our seats, a debate broke out over our presence. Some monks argued that Buddhists should not a.s.sociate with alien sanghas sanghas, to avoid contact with negative people and negative thoughts. Ironically, the negative person who was the subject of the discussion was that champion of dialogue, Rabbi Greenberg, who was scheduled to address the group.

We were seeing firsthand that the Dalai Lama's brilliant tolerance was not practiced universally in his community. In fact, it has been said that were he not the Dalai Lama, he would be considered a heretic. Faced with the immense task of preserving Tibetan religion in exile, some monastics have become ultraconservative restorationists. They seek to preserve tradition by rebuilding Tibet in India. They are the counterparts of ultra-Orthodox Jews such as those settled in enclaves like Mea Shearim in Jerusalem. Moving to a modern-and hot-Mediterranean country, they nevertheless replicate an eighteenth-century Jewish ghetto, down to black clothing and fur hats!

The restorationist impulse is strong among a people facing the shock of losing their home, whether they are Jews after the Holocaust or Tibetans fleeing the Chinese invasion. More than two hundred monasteries have been reestablished since 1959, many taking the names of old destroyed monasteries in Tibet. According to what the chair of the conference, Tas.h.i.+ Paljor, had told us at the opening session on Wednesday, ”keeping the dharma tradition alive is their most important task.”

But in contradistinction, the Dalai Lama at the same session had stressed that preservation meant more than buildings. It meant a cultivation of inner resources. ”When you have faith you should have understanding, otherwise you have blind faith. So a beautiful monastery is not enough. Understanding is important, understanding the essence of Buddhist thought, and keeping it alive in inner thought.”

For this reason, the Buddhist leader liked to enrich himself with different kinds of learnings and thus invited scholars and lamas to teach him different traditions. That is why he had invited the Jews to Dharamsala. He emphasized that ”this is a personal practice.” But clearly he valued it because to the Dalai Lama, ”religious life should be a mixture of faith and a.n.a.lysis.” Tradition cannot be conserved with a closed mind. Now, as the monks argued, I looked at Rabbi Greenberg and wondered what would happen if a Buddhist monk came to address a yes.h.i.+va. Fortunately, a young Nepalese monk brought the debate to an end. He said it isn't what you are but how you act that makes you negative or positive.

Rabbi Greenberg is tall and thin. He has a haunted look-and striking blue eyes. For a movie, I would have cast him as Sren Kierkegaard, not a New York rabbi. He towered over the Buddhists who sat at his feet on mats. His task was not easy, explaining Judaism in fifteen minutes. Like Zalman, he spoke in terms of view, path, and goal, but he presented a more mainstream approach, quoting the Talmud, that ”the world stands on three foundations-Torah, prayer, and deeds of loving-kindness.” The Jewish path is study, prayer, and good deeds; the goal, to serve G.o.d.

Once again, he briefly related the history of the Jews, the parallels to Tibetan exile. Geshe Lobsang, the stocky abbot of Sera Je monastery, whom I'd seen bowing with such deep humility the day before, responded graciously now. He thanked the Jews for giving the Tibetans an example to follow. ”Your speech reminds us of our responsibility and encourages us in our future action. We use different terminologies. When it comes to practices, we are doing exactly the same thing.”

One highlight was that Paul Mendes-Flohr also gave a brief address, the first ever to such a group from an Israeli. This was a good contact in India, a country with one of the world's largest Muslim populations. Paul spoke on behalf of Israel and for freedom for Tibet.

Meanwhile, Nathan Katz and Zalman Schachter were playing hooky in McLeod Ganj, shmoozing with George Chernoff, a Chicago native and Buddhist monk studying in Dharamsala. George asked Zalman what a kabbalist does for a living. Zalman replied, ”The same thing everyone else does, only with extra windows opened.” When George asked what that meant, Zalman put one hand on each side of his head and said, ”Windows here-open to other realities.”

Zalman also shared with George and Nathan what he called ”an interactive meditation practice” being developed by kabbalists. One suspected, knowing Zalman, that the kabbalist was himself and the development was taking place on the spot in the streets of McLeod Ganj. Zalman would start a sentence with ”In the world to come...” and the others had to complete the thought. Reb Zalman explained that ”This is a kind of meditation to make you into Hashem Hashem's messengers.” (Hashem, or ”the name,” is an Orthodox way of referring to G.o.d.) Later that afternoon, the angels-in-training and the other delegates caught up with one another at a meeting with senior Tibetan abbots and geshes geshes.

In a dimly lit study in the Tibetan library, we sat around a long wooden table. The Jewish delegates had lots of questions, but the abbots seemed very reserved. They deferred to their oldest colleague, who carefully traced his lineage, in mind-numbing detail. In a somewhat stuffy room, the pace of the past few days caught up with more than a few of the Jewish delegates. It was hard, frankly, to keep eyes open.

The discussion picked up when we got into methods of training young tulkus tulkus, those recognized at an early age to be the reincarnation of a highly realized master. Of the more than four thousand tulkus tulkus in preinvasion Tibet, only a few hundred escaped. When such a child is recognized-most all in preinvasion Tibet, only a few hundred escaped. When such a child is recognized-most all tulkus tulkus are male-he is taken into a monastery and trained to a.s.sume his position. are male-he is taken into a monastery and trained to a.s.sume his position.

The Dalai Lama himself was the greatest advertis.e.m.e.nt for the tulku tulku idea, for in the current situation one could hardly imagine a better Dalai Lama. idea, for in the current situation one could hardly imagine a better Dalai Lama.

But the system must have its flaws, for when Marc Lieberman asked, ”What happens when a tulku tulku turns out to be a dud?” even the most ceremonious of the abbots laughed. turns out to be a dud?” even the most ceremonious of the abbots laughed.

He and I took a pre-Shabbat stroll back to Kashmir Cottage, pa.s.sing through the back streets of town. The Tibetan refugees live under difficult conditions, whole families crammed into a single room. We came upon an Indian traveling musician, sitting on a dirty poured concrete porch, his crutch propped against the step. Two puppets danced on a small crate while he played the mandolin. The Tibetan children, all three and four years old, were gorgeous. They squatted, giggling, but hid their smiles behind folded hands, shy beauties.

I was thinking of my own kids when I saw Blu Greenberg at Kashmir Cottage setting candlesticks on the Shabbat table. It felt as if we Jews had come together, like a family, that we were inviting guests home for Friday night. When the senior lamas and abbots arrived, joined by a few Western Buddhists, Moshe Waldoks began the davening. Jews usually pray facing east toward Jerusalem, but we faced the setting sun. Two abbots were having an animated discussion with Laktor. They thought they had learned the true secret of Judaism-we were sun wors.h.i.+pers.

The davening was getting intense and Zalman exclaimed, ”I feel the saints of both of our lineages are dancing around us.” When that was translated, the abbots laughed out loud. Zalman added, ”Most of the time we speak of G.o.d as more male than female. But in Shabbas the divine presence comes like a queen, so we sing and dance to greet her.” Then we sang ”Lekha Dodi,” to welcome the Shabbat bride. We sang it with the words, and then in Hasidic scat: Yi di di di di...The monks, by the terms of their vows, do not sing or dance except to their own liturgy but allowed themselves to clap their hands to the tune. Zalman explained that ”we call an additional soul into ourselves when we chant.”