Of the countless Asian teachers who brought Buddhism to the West, probably none has had a bigger influence than Chogyam Trungpa, Rinpoche. Not a day goes by that I don't run into some quote from him or one of his students, including Pema Chödrön, or someone affiliated with Naropa University, which he founded, or with the Shambhala Meditation Centers that he established. Although the Rinpoche died in 1987, he is still vitally present in western Buddhism.
It is also well known of the Rinpoche that he was sexually promiscuous and a heavy drinker. This doesn't "square" with most of our ideas about an enlightened teacher. And Trungpa was not the only prominent Buddhist teacher in the West with apparent moral failings.
A post at Dosho Port's Wild Fox Zen site got me thinking about imperfect teachers. Dosho tells a story about the late Taizan Maezumi Roshi of the Los Angeles Zen Center. Maezumi was the teacher of many prominent American Zen teachers, including my first teacher, the late John Daido Loori. Maezumi also had, shall we say, issues. In 1995 heavy drinking caused him to pass out in his bathtub. He drowned.
In this recollection of Maezumi, the old roshi was sitting outside the Zen Center with a student when a drunken man approached them. "What's it like to be enlightened?" the drunk slurred. "Very depressing," Maezumi said.
I understand Maezumi never offered excuses. On the other hand, I understand Trunpa justified his behavior by saying it helped him relate to his students. Right.
Trungpa, for all his failings, was also some kind of genius who "got" western culture and understood how to present Tibetan vajrayana in a way that resonated with westerners. His book Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism ought to be required reading for anyone practicing Buddhism.
Daido died of lung cancer last year. He was a heavy smoker. I heard him say that his smoking helped prisoners in Zen Mountain Monastery's prison outreach program to relate to him. The prisoners saw a wizened old guy with a cigarette in his lips and tattoos on his arms instead of a "Zen master."
I'm not sure where I'm going with this, but somewhere in there is a lesson that our teachers are human beings. Any other thoughts?
Maezumi roshi’s response to the drunk is perhaps one of my favorite interactions and I have quoted it in posts before. Part of the statement speaks to our ability as humans to relate to others emotionally. Many of us ignore, repress or rationalize our emotional experience and many of us take on the emotions of others.
I am one of those that takes on the emotions of others. When I see someone bullied, I feel bullied. When I see someone hurt, I hurt. When someone dies, I die. And living an emotional life will lead to some escape behaviors, such as drinking or drug use. I am not someone you want to take to an emotional movie.
This is a human trait, not a “non-Zen Master/non-Rinpoche” trait. We all fall into this rut. We need to stay grounded in our practice and we need to keep our teachers grounded as well. It is a two-way street. Some stories I have heard about Chögyam Trungpa lead me to believe that he was not grounded and his behavior (alleged) borderlined on the obscene. But true or false the fact remains that when we make our teachers out as perfect beings, they will act in the exact opposite manner.
And “Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism” is an epic book.
Cheers,
John
Here’s a great, old article on the subject by Katy Butler (who was just published this past week in The New York Times Magazine)…
http://www.katybutler.com/publications/commonboundary/index_files/commbound_shadowbuddhistusa.htm
“There is a crack, a crack in everything/That’s how the light gets in.” Leonard Cohen’s lyrics are helpful in seeing & letting go of the flawed teacher issue.
I can’t speak to the anecdotes presented but i can speak to of my own thoughts …we always expect our teachers to have a big mind when it comes to OUR shortcomings, but somehow we don’t think we are supposed to have a big mind when it comes to our teacher’s shortcomings. If our teachers are not supposed to be “human”, haven’t we really just substituted them for god, and at the same time limited our compassion and generosity of heart?
In this recollection of Maezumi, the old roshi was sitting outside the Zen Center with a student when a drunken man approached them. “What’s it like to be enlightened?” the drunk slurred. “Very depressing,” Maezumi said.
If I may say something of my own personal experience;
My Chinese teacher is a monk and though he strictly does not drink he have remarked on the odd occasion that one can drink a glass of wine as long as it does not affect your mindfulness. Two of my other (western) teachers totally abstain and does not encourage drinking or smoking, although one of them have smoked pot a long time ago.
Where does it put me? I like wine, beer and sake. Tend sometimes to overdo it. Although a long shot away from enlightenment i also sometimes feel “depression” creep up to me. To a certain extend I can relate to John’s sentiments I am one of those that takes on the emotions of others. When I see someone bullied, I feel bullied. When I see someone hurt, I hurt. When someone dies, I die. And living an emotional life will lead to some escape behaviors, such as drinking or drug use.
At one stage (more or less two years) I drank nothing and thought Buddhism (or rather Buddhist practice) have cured me from alcohol…now I am using the stuff again and sometimes feel uncomfortable with the fact that I am using (abusing?) it. As Nietzsche said; “human all to human”
Can we find anything perfect in this world? As long as we are trapped in the concepts of “this is This, so that must be That” – if we did find anything perfect, would we recognize it? Does that mean we let others, including teachers, set examples that appear to hurt others? No. Not if we are actively motivated by compassion and love for Dharma. We can help teachers be better teachers. We create the causes for how they appear and function for us. Without students, no teachers. Without teachers, no students. Responsibility is inter-dependent.
There is the story told — within Tibetan Buddhist contexts in particular — of an old woman who had a son who traveled widely, as a merchant. Frequently the old woman asked her son to bring back, from one of his trips, a relic of the Buddha. Over and over again the son forgot. So one time when the son was about to leave for another journey, the old woman once again requested him to return with a relic of the Buddha, saying that if he forgot again, that she would this time commit suicide.
So the son left for his trip, and as he was returning, remembered his promise (which he had once again forgotten) and — wishing to prevent his mother from committing suicide — pulled a tooth out of the mouth of a dead dog, wrapped it in silk, and presented it to his mother, saying that it was a tooth of the Buddha.
The old woman built a shrine for the tooth, began to worship it with utmost devotion, and after some time the tooth began to glow, and in its presence many miracles occurred.
One lesson we can learn from this tale is: When we see our teacher as an ordinary human being, we receive from him/her the benefits of an ordinary human being. When we see him/her as a Buddha, we receive the blessings of a Buddha.
Now perhaps this isn’t the whole story …. in terms of relative truth, there may well be differences — worth paying attention to — between a Buddha’s tooth and a dog’s tooth; between an ethical teacher and an unethical teacher, a skilled teacher and an unskilled teacher. Yet, as Michele pointed out, the relationship between student and teacher is one of inter-depedence. And “seeing” is not as purely representational as we’re in the habit of believing it is; and the cultivation of a certain “view” can be an important part of the practice.
It has been said that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Male leaders of movements and religious communities, especially if successful teachers, seem inclined to licentious behavior, as if power means sexual license.
I have not heard that this applies to women. The tendency to abuse drugs is probably more gender-blind, the result of too much being ‘on’.
I think men, in particular, when they have power, tend to feel their hormones kick in and to think they are above the need for self-restraint. This may even be a trait of alpha males of many species.
It seems to me that our practice should have a kind of two way motion, like a pendulum.
In one direction, we try to gain understanding of the Path and then deepen and sharpen that understanding.
In the other direction, we try to bring that understanding back to bear on our past and present decisions, perceptions, understandings and habits, the warp and woof of our lives.
I think this way of looking at practice is very important to us here in the West where so many serious practitioners are lay and even our clergy is often involved in personal, intimate relationships and the burden of supporting themselves. We do not leave “the World” behind.
In contrast, the monks and priests who came over here brought with them the attitude that once you had entered the monastery, you had already solved one half of the pendulum’s motion and only had to devote yourself to understanding and to deepening your understanding. Old perceptions, decisions, habits of thought had been resolved with putting on the robe.
Then of course they were confronted with all of the freedoms of our culture presented to them with the best of intentions and they were unprepared for it.
So their practices and their understandings of the Path were often quite valid but they were unprepared to engage again the temptations of the lay world that they thought they had left behind them.
I think that we, as lay practitioners, can acknowledge the spiritual skills of those teachers but we have to be careful ourselves to attend to the second half of the pendulum and apply what we learn to our lives.
Beautiful story Mila. And, I agree, the cultivation of a view of a person or circumstance as a teacher/teaching is very valuable. However, the *vital* point that sometimes seems to get overlooked both by organizations and individuals is that this is primarily an *personal* view. An INNER view that a practitioner privately develops and implements in order to turn every experience into a profound personal teaching. When this is not understood and the view is instead strongly projected outwards, bizarre things seem to happen, such as the development of an organizational idol-like view of a teacher to the extent that students no longer question and correct the external actions of a teacher – even when they lead to suffering or bad examples – and remarkably even when the teacher directly asks their students to do so. It seems that cult-like tendencies then sometimes appear that damage the ability for both the teacher and students to function in beneficial ways, even if the teachings are essentially sound. The resulting distortions that are created from this fundamental mis-understanding cause problems and seem to lead in a direction that misses the point of Buddha’s teachings entirely. But for many, as awareness develops, that will function as a teaching too.
Toss out the word “personal” and replace it with “intimate,” and I’ll agree with you. Otherwise, I don’t.
What is the point of Buddha’s teachings, btw?
And this issue is not at all “overlooked,” at least not in Zen sanghas I’ve known. But the pivotal issue here, as Daido used to put it, is where do you find the self? Where there is an enlightened being, what “self” is it that is enlightened? There’s a Zen koan called “Pai-chang’s fox” that speaks to this, and if I can find a dharma talk on it later I will post a link.
I agree that cult-like tendencies can develop anywhere, but the genuine teachers I have known don’t allow it. Daido used to pull away from students who seemed too obsequious until they got over it.
Dear Barbara,
Thank you for your article. It reminded me of the first Noble Truth.
May you be happy,
Peter
Barbara, I don’t mean to be difficult, but elsewhere on your site you write in connection with enlightenment that it involves liberation from desire, leading to satisfaction.
In view of this, I’m wondering how it can also involve depression, womanising and booze.
I’m a human being. You’re a human being.
The Dalai Lama is a human being. Geoffrey Shugen Arnold is a human being. Eido Shimano is a human being.
I received good teaching from all those beings.
But as I continue to say, we should neither hold them to a different standard or give them a pass on certain things simply because they have good teaching, and anyone walking the walk would agree with varying degrees of reluctance.
I agree, especially in light of what went on with Trungpa’s successor Osel Tendzin. Sometimes the behavior is intolerable. I think SFZC was right to dismiss Richard Baker, and Eido Shimano probably should have been dismissed years ago. The line might be drawn between a teacher who is mostly just damaging himself and one who is damaging the sangha. But the line there is often very blurry.
Barbara, I am interested to see you respond to Michael’s comment.
Why not choose Shakyamuni Buddha as one’s teacher? He was as close to perfect as one can expect in a human being.
Why not choose the Law as one’s teacher:
“Whatever doctrine and discipline taught and made known by me will be your teacher when I am gone.”?
Mark — There is no substitute for living teachers who know you personally and who can tell you when you’re kidding yourself.
There are many stories of Buddhist teachers having human frailties in abundance, now and in the past (Ikkyu). These stories trouble me.
Having said that, Daido Loori really speaks to me. I heard him talk about combining Zen and art (photography) in an interview in a “Buddhist Geeks” podcast, and it was inspiring to me.
Very well [for you]. I will continue to take the Buddha at his word, especially on his deathbed.
Mark — In other words, your ego is your teacher. Good luck with that.
My teachers are the ancient Buddha Shakyamuni and His teachings. I have no inordinate preoccupation with myself. Quite the contrary:
mai ji sa ze nen
I Myself ever form this thought
i ga ryo shujo
‘By what shall I cause the masses of beings
toku nyu mujo do
To be able to enter the supreme Way
soku joju busshin
And rapidly achieve Buddhahood
If you think the problem of “ego” is “inordinate preoccupation with yourself,” you don’t know the first thing about Buddhism, which is why you need a teacher.
In your earlier post, you wrote,
Right there, you fell into terrible error. You claim Buddha Shakyamuni as a teacher, yet you run away from his teachings. Very sad.
In the Lohicca Sutta the Buddha is asked to describe teachers who are “not worthy of criticism in the world.”
The Buddha’s response is basically two-fold, stating that:
(1) a teacher him- or herself should have accomplished themselves what they are purporting to teach; and
(2) that ultimately the evaluation of a teacher has to do not so much with the qualities of the teacher him- or herself, as it does with the accomplishments (in the practice of Buddha Dharma) of that teacher’s disciples/students. Are the teacher’s students showing signs of progress along the path? e.g. are they manifesting the signs of having accessed the various jnanas? are they manifesting the siddhis? are they arriving at the final “ending of mental fermentations”?
When a teacher’s students/disciples are showing signs of progressing along the path, then
“that is a teacher not worthy of criticism in the world, and if anyone were to criticize this sort of teacher, the criticism would be false, unfactual, unrighteous, & blameworthy.”
There is in Vajrayana tradition masters who could drink or have sexual union without problems, due to their great realization. But for practicioners not on the higher Bhumis we must practice the precepts which are to abstain from intoxicating substances and avoid harmful sex or, as in my case, practice celibacy. My root teacher Khenchen Konchog Gyaltsen is a monk Lama, and his ethical discipline is excellent and inspires his students all the time. My point of view is this: Is a drunken or philandering teacher a great bodhisattva of the highest level, or just drunk and philandering? If it is the latter, then that person really should not be teaching the Dharma until they can master such advanced practices as the five precepts.
In Buddhism, no one can teach you, so there is no “teacher”. If you see Buddha, kill him. Practicing Buddhism is a way to find happiness in our suffering lives. Everybody is suffering physically or mentally. However, everybody’s situation is different. If your drinking habit is good for you, and people around you. If your drinking habit does not cause suffering to yourself and people around you. If your drinking habit does not cause future suffering to you and people around you then why not? If my drinking makes me sick, or if my drinking makes my family suffering, or if my drinking will make me sick in the future, then I should not drink. That’s what Buddhism is about. Enjoy the happiness that you are currently have, and avoid doing something that will cause suffering. If you are suffering from something (pain caused by cancer …) Try to enjoy the time that the pain is temporarily gone, and try not to create other pains to you or people around you. In other word, you are the only one who can find your happiness (or your enlightenment. )
D Nguyen — You’ve left out some stuff. Like wisdom, compassion, and enlightenment.
That refers to releasing ideas about Buddha in order to realize Buddha. Teachers can help you with that.
Bravo , Renee. Thanks for adding that piece. I agree that many male teachers take advantage of their situation – and especially those from chauvinist cultures. In my experience, as we climb “the ladder,” we must be more conscious of our effect on others beneath us and strive to maintain our integrity. That is OUR test. Guru Rinpoche said to descend with the view (of samsara) and to ascend with conduct.
I believe that Chogyam Trungpa died early precisely because of the bad karma of his indiscretions. The highest Lamas have faultless conduct. There are many stories of Buddhas who warned their students to behave themselves. However, given that, we can’t all have access to the “highest” teachers so we must work with what is appropriate for our stage of development. The biggest stumbling block seems to be this notion of being “perfect.” It is a destructive, unrealistic western trait that has no bearing on reality. If we hold this sort of perfectionist ideal, it is a sign that we need to practice more compassion.
The dictionary definition of ego suffices and one need only view the responses to see who has and who hasn’t utilized the teachings of the Buddha and who makes things up as they go along. Still, if one chooses a teacher by virtue of the teacher’s behavior, one should by all means choose the Buddha.
Not in Buddhism. The Buddha taught the doctrine of anatta, not self, and that’s the definition you need to deal with, not the one in the dictionary. Are you practicing in Theravada or Mahayana?
What is Buddha?
Come to the Midwest Buddhist Temple’s 55th Annual Ginza Holiday Festival in Chicago’s Old Town neighborhood on August 13, 14, 15. http://www.ginzachicago.com
I think refraining from promiscuity, abuse of alchohol or substances, or other destructive or socially disruptive behavior, is not necessarily a mark of perfection.
I’m not perfect, yet I don’t do these things.
My feeling is that if one is a leader of people–whether a politician or a religious leader, or anyone who has put himself on a position of trust and people to look toward as a model for their own improvement–then one’s sense of responsibility should exert enough inner pressure to enable him to avoid dissolute behavior. (I use “him” because the offenders are usually men).
If one indulges one’s weaknesses in this way, I can only conclude that he or she lacks a real sense of responsibility or genuine respect for the people who respect him.
That’s why, though a Democrat myself, I have trouble cutting Bill Clinton, and no Al Gore, any slack.
The Buddha felt responsible for the salvation of humanity.
That being the case, he did exercise and teach self-control.
Even Tiger Woods acknowledged that living by Buddhist principles had helped him exercise self control in the past.
Considering all this, I have little sympathy for “teachers” or “masters” who allow themselves to fall into any appreciable degree of depravity.
Right on, Jeff! That’s why I have such a difficult time accepting the rationalizations for why people continue to follow the teachings and organization established by Chogyam Trungpa.
My question is how can someone with such profound clinging to alchohol teach nonattachment?
My question is how can someone who demonstrate such a profound clinging to alchohol teach nonattachment?
I was quite startled after reading Dragon Thunder that clearly tells of the issues of Chogyam Trungpa.
I noticed that Pema Chodron was still speaking well of him so I gave it more thought. Why would I allow myself so much judgment of a wonderful teacher when judgment is one of the things I am trying to let go of? Sometimes our buddhas have to appear with human frailties I think.
My understanding of a “Teacher” is someone who is capable of transmitting his or her awareness to his student.
One of my most powerful Teachers imparted his Understanding to me without even realizing he was doing so.
He was a grumpy womanizer, but a great Spiritual Teacher–for the right student, anyway.
It is my opinion that an individual’s Teacher may not be a Teacher for anyone else in the world.
And that is my opinion, but it doesn’t matter to me if anyone agrees with it or not… From my Teacher I don’t expect Perfection; I hope for Enlightenment, which may happen while standing in a driveway discussing the wind.
Chogyam Trungpa, Rinpoche would not have been accepted in a society (e.g. Orient) that would uphold the values of sobriety and celibacy of the teacher of Buddhism. He was lucky to be in the West where those fallibilities are not treated with contempt. All the students of this great teacher would have been more interested in gaining in-depth knowledge of Zen Buddhism rather than worry about his short comings. How could such a great teacher impart the knowledge of practice (not the scriptures) of Zen Buddhism when such defilements should have been eliminated to gain enlightenment through practice. Barbara should have firsthand knowledge of this issue, I am sure!
Wilfred — Well, first, Trungpa was not a Zen teacher, but was master in the Kagyu school of Tibetan Buddhism. And many of his students are remarkable. I can’t hold a candle to them.
The Pali Canon contains the means to the elimination of suffering. It is the oldest extant source. Why look elsewhere? Why insist on a million and one flavours of Buddhism, if what we truly want is to be free from suffering, as opposed to assisting in the proliferation of a thicket of teachers, a thicket of views?
Yes, but how do you apply it? Merely “believing in” the teachings isn’t good enough. Buddhism is not a mere intellectual exercise. There are many “flavours” of Buddhism because people have different karma, different wounds, different intellectual capacities. One school doesn’t work for everybody. It’s not a matter of different teachings, because they are all based on the same basic teachings, but different ways of accessing the teachings.
To my mind there is an ever-present risk of the dhamma being adulterated (as indeed it already has been) and eventually becoming extinct because those who purport to possess the wisdom to teach others have themselves not achieved the goal and are therefore unqualified to behave as is if they were equal to the Buddha. I think dhamma teachers should limit themselves to pointing the way to the closest thing we have to the words of the Buddha himself. If the student is unwilling to adapt to accommodate themselves to those teachings then they are in my opinion unlikely to achieve the goal anyway, and the teacher who gives them a version of Buddhism that is not in accord with the Nikayas is doing something other than what the Buddha himself did. This I see as arrogance. It is because I believe human nature to incorporate an almost irresistible urge to *be* the one who purveys, not simply to point the way to the purveyor, that I perceive this risk. I have no problem accepting the Buddha himself as my teacher, and none other, except insofar as those others continually point out and explain the comprehensive instructions available in the Nikayas as to how one is to become free of suffering. “Books, books, books! Too many, too many, too many! Dustbin, dustbin, dustbin!”
Andrew — again, how do you do it? Not how do you study it, or how do you understand it intellectually, but how do you do it? That’s what you’re leaving out. And most people find they need a guide for the “doing.”
That’s a Theravadin view; as a Mahayana Buddhist I have issues with “as if they were equal to the Buddha,” because “equal to” implies a separation. Here’s where the Zen master would ask you “What is Buddha?” And there a path begins.
However, the trap you’ve set for yourself is that if you’re sitting around waiting for another human being who is “equal to the Buddha,” and decide you will just teach yourself until he comes, then your own ego is teaching you. And then your own ego will be the “one who purveys.” I see it all the time. People read the suttas for themselves and develop all kinds of views about what they “mean.”
A good teacher is one who sees when you’ve wandered into a cul-de-sac and will show you the way out of it. He challenges your grasping of surface meanings so that you go deeper.
And you don’t know what you don’t know. The teachings are infinitely subtle. A literalist interpretation of the Nikayas is a trap also. What might seem to be teachings that differ from the Nikayas in other schools are not necessarily so, if your understanding is deep enough. Instead, they are a different way to perceive the same teachings, on a more subtle and intuitive level.
This post echoes the tired rationalizations we’ve heard ad naseum concerning these abusive teachers.
Sexual predators who prey on religious followers aren’t just “being human” or “imperfect.” They’re morally depraved and almost certainly about as enlightened as Charles Manson–and, not coincidentally, just as adept at getting fools to believe they’re spiritual geniuses.
These abusers have done enormous harm to a great many individuals–where’s your concern for these victims?– to their organizations and to western Buddhism in general. Stop making excuses for them. There are decent teachers. Cast these con men out of the lineage forever.
I agree with that, but be sure the shoe fits. Not all sexual misbehavior is “predation.” Trungpa had a number of women students who still speak highly of him today. If Pema Chodron won’t speak ill of him, it doesn’t feel right for me to do so, since I never met the man.
I do know something of Maezumi Roshi’s misbehaviors, which I will not repeat here, and certainly the man had affairs. It may seem to be splitting hairs, but it’s one thing to seduce young and vulnerable students solely for sexual gratification (yes, that’s predation) and something else to have love affairs with women old and mature enough to know what they are getting into. The latter may be bad judgment, but predation? I’m not sure. Some of Maezumi’s women dharma heirs still speak highly of him. Maezumi also was the teacher of John Daido Loori, who was my first Zen teacher, and Daido thought the world of Maezumi. And may I add that Daido was not the sort to make excuses for anybody.
On the other hand, there is plenty of testimony that Eido Shimano really is a sexual predator, and he should have been busted for this 30 years ago. The late Maurine Stuart, Roshi, was his student for a time but then later burned the rakusu she received from him. Tells you something.
The Noble Eightfold Path (NEP) is the perfect teacher or The Buddha.
Buddha is not a person. That is why in Mahayana it is correctly said “kill The Buddha if you happen to meet him”.
The historical Buddha or the person who carried The Buddha (the fully detached mind or NEP) said “you see me only when you see my Dharma”.
That also shows The Buddha is not a person you can see by your mundane eye. The Buddha can be seen only by the mind.
Even when you happen to meet a Buddha (irrespective of whether you are from Therawada or Mahayana) how do you recognize him for sure? You can only believe his words.
Belief is out of the question in Buddhism. Therefore, you have to take the same path The Buddha traveled and become a Buddha (Arhath in Therawada) your self. Then only you know who is a Buddha.
The Buddha’s followers of the first 1,000 years knew this and never made statues of The Buddha. They only used symbols to represent NEP such as Dharma wheel and Buddha’s foot print.
The historical Buddha himself was not a perfect teacher. There were lots of people who did not accept his teaching. Devadatta became his no. 01 enemy after becoming a disciple of his.
The historical Buddha kept NEP as his teacher.
The Buddha started to preach only when he became a Buddha. He first declared he is a Buddha and said he was fully enlightened.
The teacher must always be a fully enlightened and should declare he is so.
What the teacher does is introducing you the perfect teacher (NEP) and guides you to associate with NEP.
You have to find a fully enlightened teacher to solve your doubts.
Buddha is not a person. That is why in Mahayana it is correctly said “kill The Buddha if you happen to meet him”.
Keerthi — Are you familiar with the teaching of the “three bodies” (trikaya) of a Buddha?
According to this teaching (as I understand it) the Nirmanakaya form of a Buddha does indeed appear within the perception of beings still trapped within samsara. The willingness to be visible in this way is an aspect of a Buddha’s compassion. So the Buddha does indeed appear “as a person” so that s/he might help others who still believe themselves to be (separate, permanent) “people.” This in no way negates the fact that Dharmakaya Buddha — Buddha Nature — remains unassociated with any particular form (while being the substance and innermost essence of them all).
The koan that you refer to is best used to unravel concepts we might have about Buddha, including the concept that “Buddha is not a person.”
It should be clear to anyone who takes on the role of a teacher in any Buddhist tradition that, by doing so, they are acting as a role model and will generally be judged according to a higher set of ethical standards than someone who has not taken on that role. I personally find it irrational and somewhat paradoxical whenever I see the opposite happening, i.e. teachers being judged by their students according to a lower set of standards than that which would be used for any other randomly selected person who is not a Buddhist teacher. To me, that is a clear indication of an unhealthy situation.
As regards sexual predation: Even if is not an abuse of power imbalance, why is a teacher cruising his (not usually her) students for sex, especially over and over again? It seems that a Buddhist teacher should have some freedom from craving, and a real concern for students, not trying to feed off of them.
I agree, which is why this is such a difficult subject. Again, though, be careful not to hang blanker accusations over all the teachers we are discussing here. As I said I know something of Maezumi’s circumstances and I don’t think it’s accurate to say he was “cruising” students for sex. However, from what I’ve heard (all second hand, so I could be wrong) “cruising” does describe Trungpa.
And that takes us back to why this is such a difficult topic. Trungpa is possibly the single most influential Buddhist teacher to ever come to the West. He wrote some great books. He taught people who became great teachers themselves. All evidence shows us he was both a “user” of drugs, alcohol and sex, but that he also was a great teacher. How is that possible? What’s wrong with this picture? I don’t see a clear “answer.” I’m not making excuses for his behavior; I’m asking how such a flawed person could be a great teacher? It makes no sense. But there it is.
Hi Pete, I agree completely. And, that begs the question why disciples of Chogyam Trungpa justify his behavior by saying he’s either a bodhisattva in disguise or that his teachings were more important than his breaking the five precepts. And, lest we forget, he was married.
I’m asking how such a flawed person could be a great teacher?
I agree that Trungpa Rinpoche’s life is/was filled with paradox & complexity — and even now presents a great opportunity to watch our own reactions to it.
One thing I find useful to remember is that he spent the first 28 years of his life as a monastic — decades of that kind of rigorous training — which provided a foundation, in terms of strength of mind, that seemed to remain solid, up until the end of his life.
When I watch videos of his talks, I prefer to watch those of his earlier teaching years — when he was not yet drinking alcohol so frequently. But even in later years, when his voice is slurred, etc. — there’s a still a clarity of mind that comes through; which I always find amazing to see: how some aspect of his mind remained utterly unaffected by the processes unfolding within the more relative levels of his bodymind.
So I feel that part of the answer to how “such a flawed person could be a great teacher” has to do with the fact that in Trungpa Rinpoche’s case, his Buddhist monastic training came first, and remained, in certain ways at least, as his foundation.
To emulate the most questionable aspects of TR’s personal life, as though this could somehow replace or be a shortcut to the insight he cultivated through decades of monastic practice, is a mistake.
But it’s also a mistake, as Barbara has pointed out, to “throw the baby out with the bathwater” — to deny the huge positive contribution Trungpa Rinpoche made to the establishment of Buddhism in the west. There are no easy answers, and perhaps we can see this as a gift.
So …. I do my best to discern what aspects of TR’s legacy might be supportive to me, on my path — take those up, with gratitude — and simply leave behind the rest.
Chogyam Trungpa may well have been a highly realized Bodhisattva benifitting students in ways I can’t understand. I have no way of knowing so I can’t say for sure one way or the other. I once had a friend who practiced with Trungpa’s students and I sat with them a few times. But I chose to practice with teachers who upheld the ethical precepts that the Buddha taught and lived by. On the other hand I know and respect a Nyingma Lama who is a Ngakpa and likes to drink beer. He is a thorough yogi in his practice and teaching, and he has said that in Buddhism you can only drink if the person next to you gets drunk but you don’t. This refers to the tantric practice of turning poison (alcohol) into nectar (uncontaminated bliss), and can only be done by an advanced yogi.
“Chogyam Trungpa may well have been a highly realized Bodhisattva benifitting students in ways I can’t understand. I have no way of knowing so I can’t say for sure one way or the other.”
I really hate this kind of realization for excusing someone’s major flaws, and their abuse of their power. Take anyone, say Hitler, and apply this same logic – oh, maybe that’s what neo-Nazis are already doing?
I also hate that we can’t edit our messages …
I meant to say, rationalization rather than realization (too early in the morning!).
I feel that the idea that we look at Trungpa’s early work may be valid, but to say he’s a bodhisattva and we should just excuse his abuses is in my opinion something that the Buddha himself would have abhored – blind faith.
lisehull, I also feel disgusted by such behavior and never took Trungpa as a teacher. I was just considering the possibilities. The way I’ve learned is that one should have faultless ethical discipline as well as thorough inner realization which is beyond duality. I personally don’t agree with the view one often hears that we neededed a teacher to (in my words) appeal to promiscuous, drug-addled students to found Vajrayana in the west.
Here is what I believe is an excerpt form Patrul Rinpoche’s Words Of My Perfect Teacher — a chapter exploring “how to recognize and follow a spiritual guide.”
It highlights the importance, for a spiritual guide, of having “subdued afflictive emotions.” It also points to the paradoxical nature of a student “examining” a teacher: how a teacher’s true qualities may well be invisible to the student; and also that in “degenerate times” the probability of connecting with a “perfect” teacher is less than at other times.
Re: “faultless ethical discipline” — I feel it’s worth pointing out that
(1) what is considered “appropriate ethical behavior” in one context/culture, may be considered entirely inappropriate in another context/culture, e.g. in certain cultures burping is considered rude, while in others it is considered as a sign of appreciation of the food one has just eaten; and
(2) that the kind of “ethical behavior” that flows out of “inner realization which is beyond duality” is radically context-dependent and spontaneous — cannot be captured or contained by codified moral precepts of any sort. It is utterly selfless behavior which is willing to appear in exactly the way that is most beneficial, given the utterly unique and non-repeatable situation at hand.
The ethical actions of great yogis, buddhas really, such as Tilopa and Naropa are beyond ordinary comprehension. But such behavior is the provence of buddhas or highly realized bodhisattvas. For an ordinary practicioner to engage in such activity based on their theories or feelings could be very destructive to the practicioner and those in their sphere of influence. Chogyam Trungpa is referred to as a Vidyadhara, or great bodhisattva, but just not my cup of tea.
I wrote about this issue in the 1980s and 1990s, notably in “Events Are the Teacher,” (Coevolution Quarterly/Whole Earth Review) and “Encountering the Shadow in Buddhist America.”(Common Boundary.)
Both are on my website,www. Katybutler.com/archives.
I think the problem arose when eastern hierarchical structures collided with western
libertinism, with devastating results.
In Asia, the man at the top is hemmed in by social obligation, and not anonymous.
Here, anything goes, and it’s a potent mix when total freedom meets beginners’ adulation, trust, and projections.
To me, the question is not whether or not we perceive teachers as human, but whether as students we practice discernment or ignore our own perceptions.
Are a teacher’s activities harming others?
Because if they are, it doesn’t matter what beautiful words they speak, or what special states they experience or transmit. If a teacher can’t practice basic wisdom and kindness, what sort of teacher is he or she?
Trungpa’s successor, Osel Tendzin/Thomas Rich contracted AIDS and continued to sleep with multiple students without informing them, and infected at least two. I find this particularly curious in a lineage that prides itself on not being “theistic.” It is possible to project blind faith onto a teacher as surely as one can project it onto
an image of the divine.
Other Buddhist teachers have driven shaky students into nervous breakdowns after having sex with them.
At the same time, the Vajrayana lineage has produced books, teachers, and teachings I find most helpful. I use both Pema Chodren and Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche’s books as practice guides. As they say in another tradition, I must take what I like and leave the rest. And I will never again surrender my capacity for discernment, and hopefully keep speaking my mind no matter what group I’m in.