Chiang Mai, Thailand 2023. Monk Chat Buddhist Retreat
Phra KK and the Monk Chat Buddhist Retreat in Chiang Mai, Thailand | A Report | Jon Brooks
I am halfway through completing a Masters of Divinity at Emmanuel College, Victoria University at the University of Toronto. In the company of fellow theologians, and as I write this, I describe myself as a spiritually fluid, panentheistic, eco-liberative Christian. I do not believe there is a ‘guy in the sky;’ nor do I read the Abrahamic first books literally. I believe the current age’s problems are more spiritual than they are economic or political. That is to say, though I may consider literal readings of Christ’s resurrection and doctrines like transubstantiation and substitutionary atonement as intellectually scandalous, I believe there is still profound theological and ethical value in the Christian story. I am influenced by the writings of Leonardo Boff, Sallie McFague, Martin Buber, Miguel De La Torre, Dorothee Soelle, Simone Weil, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Thomas Merton, Howard Thurman, Emily Dickinson, Dostoyevsky, Rumi, Maria Skobtsova, the Eastern Christian patristics—of course, the list goes on.
I am interested in a theology that embraces religious diversity, a relational theology that thrives in conversation with other spiritualities and contemporary quantum theory. Like Paul Knitter, I believe that not only is it possible today to be both a Christian and a Buddhist, I believe any happy pluralism requires its spiritual leaders to be openly engaged in multi religiousness. Thus it is I needed to take a semester off, researching animal justice initiatives at Elephant Nature Park and Theravada Buddhism in Chiang Mai, Thailand. This report will summarize my two day retreat with Phra Ajarn KK at the Buddhist University of Chiang Mai.
Theravada Buddhism begins with the story of the Buddha visiting Sri Lanka (Resplendent Island) 500 BCE. The story itself is an unlikely fiction created to justify and legitimate the Theravada Buddhist ideology. Such stories are the necessary fictions underlying every religious tradition.
I have studied Japanese Buddhism at the Toronto Zen Centre; I have interviewed Lama Tenzin at Toronto’s Tibetan Karma Sonam Dargye Ling temple; as well, I have taken Dr. Henry Shiu’s History of Buddhist Traditions course at Emmanuel College. What interested me most about the possibility of interviewing a Thai monastic was the fact that esoteric Theravada Buddhism is largely overlooked in academia. Our knowledge of Theravada Buddhism is based mainly on mindfulness. As my professor, Dr. Shiu once remarked, “there is a side of Theravada practice completely invisible to us.”
Upon arrival at the Buddhist University of Chiang Mai, approximately fifteen of us were outfitted with white clothing and led into a small room filled with gold plated statues reflecting the various moods and faces of the Buddha. Phra KK spoke for two hours introducing the Theravada tradition. Phra KK rightly emphasized the fact that Buddhism is not a religion but “a path, a practical method for liberating oneself from suffering.” Theravada asks of us three things: do no harm; learn to do good; and learn to train our “monkey brains” to avoid bad action. Balance is sought by way of a threefold awareness of our mental, verbal, and physical actions. “Do not believe in the Buddha! Find the Buddha within.”
Theravada translates from Pali to English as ‘the school of the elders;’ or, thera (old) + vadha (spoken tradition). Unsurprisingly, this—the oldest school of Buddhism—is also the most rigid and methodical of all the Buddhist traditions I’ve thus encountered. All belief is predicated on experience and rigid adherence to practice. An example of how formalized the Theravada tradition is: upon entering a temple the adherent must bow three times: once out of respect for the Buddha; once out of respect for the Buddha’s teachings; and once again out of respect for the Buddha’s followers, its school. “The more we bow, the less deluded we become.”
The Theravada Four Noble Truths were, for the most part, in accord with other Buddhist traditions:
- Suffering is the elemental truth of life;
- The truth of suffering is our own desire and attachment to things;
- Finding balance ameliorates suffering;
- Practicing the Noble Eightfold Path is the only means toward balance and the end of suffering.
Compare this to the Four Noble Truths as outlined in Mahayana Buddhism:
- Suffering/Dukkha;
- Craving and desire creates further suffering/Tanha (thirst);
- Cessation/Nirodha of Dukkha/suffering may be attained by renouncing tanha;
- Marga/The Noble Eightfold Path is the path leading to renouncement of tanha and the cessation of dukkha.
The subtle difference in the language reveals the Theravada emphasis on orthopraxy, right action; whereas the Mahayana’s wording suggests a more philosophical system of thought. One cannot help but notice a contradiction: the desire for enlightenment is, itself, a craving that may lead to suffering. I wanted to ask Phra KK, are we not still tethered to desire in our pursuit of a virtuous, happy, and deliberate life? The upstart Buddhist in me preferred the nobler, selfless path of silence to the egotistical path of cleverness. Selflessness is borne in the practice of pursuing Buddhism for the benefit of others’ enlightenment. Thus it is that service fosters and maintains the continued Buddhist belief in essential selflessness. I meditated on this idea of delaying our own desire for enlightenment in the effort to compassionately await the enlightenment of all others—such a vow seemed analogous to Mount Athos’ monastics praying for the whole world.
I did find the nerve to ask Phra KK his thoughts on the Theravada 13th century wars with the Tamils and the recently well publicized Theravada violence against the predominantly Moslem Rohingya in neighboring Myanmar. His answer was woefully unsatisfying: “All Buddhism is nonviolence, ahinsa.” I try not to be surprised as it is a sign of a bad education, but I had to admit I was taken aback by his absolute denial of any Buddhist involvement in the Rohingya genocide. I asked him the same question the following day. “All Buddhism is nonviolence, ahinsa.”
The historical analogies to Theravada nationalism are as obvious as they are obscenely unsympathetic. We must ask: Is there a connection between 21st century Theravada ethnocentrism and The Great Chronicle of the 5th century? Are we dealing with an essentially mediocre cosmology? Hierarchical ideologies seem inherently and universally human; is there a chance such hierarchies are expressed too radically within the Theravada tradition? And what are we to make of monastic “heritable property?” What manner of Sangha endures such discord? That “Theravada has survived in virtually antithetical conditions, as the religion of a peasant society” is also notable. So goes the nature of all spiritual growth: to leave a new encounter with more answers than questions is to learn nothing. I digress.
The retreat was strict and as soon as we arrived a vow of silence was imposed for two full days. We could not walk or eat or move in our familiar manner: all action was slow and deliberate, for two days I moved with an intentionality that must have looked like slow motion replay. Books, devices, speech—all forbidden. Even Trappists would’ve regarded this retreat as spiritually rigid. That’s okay. I found the imposed slow movement tedious but after the first night I learned to enjoy the enforced quiet.
As an intermediate student of Buddhism, I found Monk Chat, at times, academically unedifying. However, so much of life’s deeper mysteries are learned by indirect art and by experience. The full entry into the Theravada tradition of imposed communal silence was enlightening and faith affirming. I am grateful for the experience and I am grateful to the World Student Christian Federation’s generous financial aid. Thank you.
