Mahayana Buddhist Temple

Unlike walking in the block-by-block midtown and uptown Manhattan, navigating Chinatown is a puzzling exploration that leads to frequent lost of direction. After all, getting lost is not always bad since it brought me a meaningful adventure that I wouldn't have discovered otherwise: I found a Mahayana Buddhist Temple. 

I have always wanted to visit Buddhist temples. I usually would search for and include the famous local Buddhist temple within my travel whenever I visit a new place in my home country, China. However, the idea of visiting or, even, having a oriental Buddhist temple in a western country, especially in the fast-paced New York City, has never occurred to me. Even I am a temple goer: almost as a tradition, I would pay a visit to a temple and stay there for at least half a day. With the strong but proofed false assumption that I couldn't get one after going abroad, this urge to stay longer within becomes even stronger. 

It was a pleasant coincidence to have find one. Although, at the beginning, I had mixed feeling about find this Mahayana Buddhist Temple on 113 Canal Street. With a string contrast with the surrounding jarring cityscape, it is located in the traffic-busy intersection of Manhattan bridge and the domed HSBC building. This temple, as former movie theatre, doesn’t fit any criteria or fantasy I hold about a Buddhist temple. 

Further, this temple doesn’t have any exterior feature that prove its identity: start from its location, scale, to its choice of building material and setting of the palace hall. Firstly, the temples are usually located in a quite and rural area so that the abbots and monks reside in the temple will not get distracted by the secular world. Secondly, temples are usually an architectural complex constructed by fine material with meaning behind each of the material choice. Last but not least, why there are a bunch of folding chair in the center of the hall right in front of the 16-foot Buddhist statue.

On the other side, though this building doesn’t fit all the aesthetic expectation I have for a temple, it brought calm, and harmony to its visitors. It has the effect just like any other positive experience I had at other temples in Asian countries. I am positive to say that visitors comes less for the temple's authenticity but for its quiet and peacefulness. 

One reason of this Buddhist temple being so small could resulted from the pragmatism way of living of this city. Since every inch of Manhattan is invaluable, it would be going against the modern economists' stand to build a temple complex in which few people will stop by and appreciate its artistic value.

Moreover, from an individual point of view, what was offered non-spiritual shouldn't effect a person's inner world. It goes back to ‘rootless’ idea of Buddhism belief that “one wouldn’t be distracted or disappointed if has little expectation” and "everything is void". Then it doesn’t matter if the temple I visited was big or small, delicate or cheaply decorated. Apply in those ideas, what I perceive shouldn’t be affected by the outside world. I should be able feel the same tranquil and peace as I would got varies from magnificent temple or unimpressive ones. 

It was getting cold outside, therefore, I decided to stay longer in this little Buddhist temple. I choice to sit in between of an old woman and a middle-aged woman. The old woman on my left was chatting to acquaintances, while the middle-aged woman on my right was talking through phone. They are just like me, finding an indoor space where they can sit and have some rest. I started to retrospect that providing shelter for the traveler is one of the initial intentions for the founding of this religion. The scale of this temple is restricted because of insufficient follower comparing to Buddhism popularity in Asian countries, the existence of temples is always about something more than architectural value, and aesthetic pleasure. A temple could be there just because simple and unsophisticated reasons—people want both a place that can represent their beliefs, and safely sit while they get tired. 

Mural that impacts a community

In Harlem, specifically in Amsterdam Ave 105^th street, stands a mural of a Hispanic community on the brick walls of a cafe and on the walls of a four-story building. The mural provides a powerful and impactful message to the growing community of Harlem, in which it emphasizes the significance an individual can have in developing a prosperous community. A supportive community is a necessity in order for future generations as well as for passing ones to become productive and warm-hearted people in society. This mentality creates a value system that is established and supported, for it also tends to the needs of one’s personal desires as well as the communities desires. In Harlem you can tell that there is great respect for the elderly, and a playful environment for the nurturing of kids, but why is this of any importance? In the bible verse 10:24-25 it says: “let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” In a Christian community that Harlem takes part in, I thought it practiced this verse of the bible because when I walked the streets of Harlem all you could see were kind folks ready to give a helping hand. The mural has represented the love and peace this community values and practices on a daily basis; two things, love and peace, which are advocated by the word of God. This mural, other than being beautiful, has started a chain reaction in the area of Harlem by producing harmonic and welcoming vibes in the Harlem community and to those out of it. 

In the artistic perspective you see a strong foundation in which the community is being constructed on, the mural allows for the foundation of unity to become stronger in the environment. It does this so by including different skin color folks on the mural demonstrating that there is no specific background needed to become part of a loving community. The mural also has a representation of the Puerto Rican flag. It may be that Puerto Ricans are the greater population but it does not take away the fact that the community is not restricted to helping their kind. Religion, like in many other cases has provided the foundation for this community. I took the mural as a spiritual upbringing in which individuals are being pushed and supported to step up in a community and become the difference in the lives of many. It is a demonstration on how a society should be run and an ideal way of interpreting a religion. Liedman, the author of Peace of Mind would approve of the message left to interpret in the mural, because it demonstrates that human beings are taking the initiative in creating a better society and not blaming God for not making the first move. New York City has so many beautiful art pieces that it a shame that not many of them are valued for the inspiring messages they leave in the hearts of many.

A Cherub in The Dirt

       
          On March 26, 2015 in Manhattan near Second Avenue and Seventh street flames overtook and consumed a brick apartment building destroying the structure, and in the inferno, the lives of Moises Locon Yao and Nicholas Figeurora were taken. I recall hearing the news of the fire from my home in Nashville, TN, and when I incidentally walked past the undeveloped debris-strewn lot in August, I knew precisely what it was.

         
          Behind the chain link fence rests the two graves both marked with tire iron like crosses and small white cherubs. Traditionally, white cherubs are reserved for the innocent death of a child. Here, I think they reference the premature nature of the death that took both of these men. Additionally, the graves were outlined with the dross of the razed building. The overall material composition adds to the symbolism of the moment. At this intersection in the bustling hive of the East Village, people stopped to investigate the empty lot and the graves inside. While the intent of those strolling by, unaware of what they would see, was to not honor those people, that's exactly what was happening. The material used to construct their graves seemed at first to me to be insulting, for it itself was rubble. The site seemed momentarily disrespected by the trash heap just behind the grave stones. However, my feeling about the setting changed. The alternative statement made is that the material honors their memory as members of the East Village New York community. The simplicity of the grave and the passing manner in which they are being honored within such a busy city.
         

          The duality of the moment resembles to me perfectly the mixture of Buddhist philosophy of impermanence and the Christian symbolism of the cherub on the grave. The passing nature of the busy New York setting makes the grave sight seem a part of the larger whole. The community clearly respects and understands that the lot must eventually be built over, and so for this short moment everyone can respect the lives that were entangled and integrated into that community. This form of grievance, just as the city of New York, is impermanent. The suffering from grasping onto the forgotten isn't incurred by the Christian tradition either. The Cherub itself simply informs visitors that these lives were taken prematurely. The grave itself is made from the surrounding dirt and rock. Indeed, the infamous Christian metaphor from "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" personifies itself through the graves' materials while the Buddhists share this burial philosophy by cremating the remains of the deceased. Here, there is a clear integration of the two religions. And in fact, I find joy in wondering whether either man was Buddhist or Christian.
       
           If any truth lives in my interpretation of these graves and the merging of religious philosophy then, unfortunately, I have violated this beautiful brevity by stamping the graves, their symbolism, and the people they represent into this Blog.

The Cold Commute

             New York City is known for being a melting pot where races, cultures, and ethnicities come together. The New York City subway system is one of the most transited parts of the city where all kinds of people come across one another and have the opportunity to interact and mingle. During peek hours of the day, the subway system is over crowded and I have always thought of the crowded train scenario as a socially awkward place. It’s a place where random people squeeze up and press up on strangers who they have never seen in their lives. I have always found that these crowded subways are places that have the potential of being areas where people can freely interact with all kinds of people during their hectic commutes. What caught my attention in particular is the social detachment that people have with one another. When thinking through the lens of Joshua L. Liebman and how he defines God as a force, which is all around us, the subway system has to be one of the most religiously dethatched places in his eyes.

            When thinking through the lens of Liebman, I would argue that God is not present in the New York City subways system. He describes God, as love and the action of caring for others and such actions are hardly present in the subway. Although there are some actions such as giving up a seat for someone else, be it out of kindness or sympathy for someone else, or holding the door for someone before it closes as they enter or exit, the majority of the time the subways is crowded with people who have no interest in socializing or showing care for anyone else. People push themselves onto others, walk past homeless people who sometimes sleep in the subway and ignore others who are beggars on the train.

            Rather than the train being a place where God is present through the actions and interactions of the people of NY, it’s a place that lacks social unity. It’s an awkward social place where having someone a few inches away or directly on you, doesn’t motivate or spark the minimal interest in starting conversation or care for someone else. During the evening rush hours where we see people tired and grumpy showing no interest in the person next to them. Liebman described the absence of love and care, God, is what causes evil.

            Although I want to say that the subways is a cold and dethatched place, I always keep in mind the potential that it has to be or become a warm and loving place filled with God’s presence in the eyes of Liebman. There are people who come onto the subways with displays of performing arts and entertainment that create the warm and close environment that lacks in the subways system. Now during the holidays is a special time where people go around spreading warm and thoughtful messages that help bring together the public and unify the distant subway space. I see the subways as a dark place and think that Liebman would consider it to be a relatively evil place.

Mary In Cloth

Found in a pile of garbage, an object with La Virgen de Guadalupe caught my attention. It was carefully wrapped in a soft piece of cloth. It is an object that holds a candle, with the image of Mary in front, and when the candle is lit, the light radiates through Mary giving her a saintly glow. This light that penetrates the picture, traditionally speaks of her purity and sainthood. Those who pray to Mary have a notion of complete purity that cannot be stained by anything. The candle, which one lights during a time of prayer, illuminates her body, especially her hands that are put together in prayer. This imagery presents a woman who has the power to look over others and to pray for humanity. However, its particular location in this case altered my traditional interpretation of such object.

For some, this object holds a lot of value, and its obvious notions of Catholicism are evident in how Mary is portrayed and in the placing of the candle. However, its setting and the fact that we can control the light that this object physically gives, connect interestingly to a reading we have discussed in class. Liebman describes God as a force. In his argument, he also mentions that we are dependent on this force as much as this force is dependent in us. He adds that we have control over this force and that we can decide when to let it affect us and coexist with us. In the same way, the fact that there is a candle behind this particular image of Mary, reminds me of our power over this force. A Catholic does not necessarily have a set time and place to pray or a set rule of what one can pray for. By this, I see the addition of the candle as an object that we can use to say prayer, or to show gratitude. However, we can decide when to do this, giving us power over the object. I don’t think that it necessarily gives us power over Mary and what she represents to Catholics, but I think that with the availability of the candle and our control over it, one can decide when to light the candle according to our needs. In this interpretation, I contrast traditional values and notions of Mary’s image with reference to Liebman’s interpretation of God as a force that coexists with humans. God is not an all powerful force, in contrast, Liebman thinks it is a force that we can control.

Having found this in a pile of garbage, carefully wrapped in cloth, reminded me immediately of the correlation between the material of the religious objects, and the meanings people assign to objects. In Dharma Bums, Kerouac offers Ray’s life as a way of meshing Buddhism and Catholicism together. In Ray’s journey, we see that he insists to hold on to Catholicism as he is absorbing various practices of Buddhism. He speaks of detachment and how one should detach him/herself from things, people and/or feelings. Ray’s journey suggests that we should find that inner peace which is not found in material things but rather in nature. It dismisses any notions of materialistic value, because throughout this journey Kerouac experiences being a dharma bum through his character Ray. The refusal of this object with the image of Mary perhaps is one that supports this rejection of materialism. The careful placement and wrapping in a cloth of something that can be considered very valuable, is powerful in this context. Letting go of an object, fully rejecting it by throwing it away with waste, but doing so in a manner that preserves its dignity, I think is important, and speaks to Kerouac’s interpretation of Buddhism as he holds on to Catholicism. Ray finds Buddhism essential and his practice of Buddhism changes his life in positive ways, but he still holds on to Catholicism. The way this object presented itself to me a few weeks ago, simply caused me to pick it up out of sympathy and respect for Catholicism. Before my encounter with these texts, I never imagined that I would be able to interpret it in any other way but the traditional way. However, with these interpretations in mind, I was able to pay more attention to the object, its features and the circumstances in which it presented itself to me.

The African Burial Ground: More Questions Than Answers

 

What does it mean to bury the dead? Is it meant to be only a fitting end to a cherished life; a means of honoring someone now gone? Or is it more? Is burial the end, as well as the beginnings of something culturally and ethnically new? If so, can anything, or anyone truly be buried?

These were a few of the questions that came to mind while beginning my tour of the African burial ground. Saddening quotes and graphic images lined the walls. I walked beneath their weight. Small knickknacks and aged silverware sat in cases around me. It was morbid, cold and still. It was a burial ground.  

Until, that is, I made my way to the center of the exhibit. Surrounded by the scattered remnants of hundreds of lost souls stood the life-like creation of an African family burying a child-sized casket. It was the best example of death and sorrow inside the exhibit. Yet it was also the most alive. Pain, suffering, anger and hope rang through small speakers in the walls. The look on the face of each family member mirrored those all too familiar from my own life.   

What surprised me most where the ceremonies and practices described and pictured around me. I listened to African hymns of hope tinged with elements of Christian spirituality. Mention of God and other deities rang throughout the recreation of the scene. It was reminiscent of Jarena Lee: electric passion, skillful oration, adherence to the divine, hope. Where these the beginnings of African-American Christianity in the United States? How would those like W.E.B Dubois respond to such a scene? Is this an enslaved family using the religion of their oppressor due to some perceived inferiority? Or was there something about Christianity that lent itself easily to the burial of such innocence?

I don’t know the answers to these questions. But I do know the importance of what I saw. The portrayal of such loss sits at the intersection of America’s all too long and sad history with slavery: the repression of a people and the subjugation of its future. But it also sits at the intersection of something new. I couldn’t help but feel that I was watching the beginnings of a tradition take root. A tradition Jarena Lee would come to adopt, James Baldwin would question, and W.E.B Dubois would outright reject. Here, I thought, are the roots of African-American Christianity.

But are any of these people actually American? In this time, place and context what does it even mean to be American when there is no America? Would these individuals want to be considered American? Many of those now buried here were born thousands of miles to the east in western Africa. And yet they helped build and construct this country. The burial ground sits across the street from a US citizenship and immigration office and yet it seems difficult to place the status of these people within our categories.

I, for all it is worth, think these people are most certainly American. Perhaps not in technicality nor in life, but certainly in death and certainly in legacy. How telling is it of our collective history to know our greatest most important financial centers rest on top the graves of thousands of slaves. That is not a history to bury. 

Beauty Lies on the Details

One of my favorite things New York City has to offer is the fact that it is a “walkable community”. The hectic life that New Yorkers choose to live sometimes makes it hard to appreciate our surroundings. However, having to walk to get to places sometimes allows us to properly engage with the beauty of our surroundings, at least during times when we are not in a rush (which if pretty unusual for our specimen).

One unusual day I found myself calmly (actually) walking through the Meatpacking District, my favorite district in New York City, no doubt. Walking by myself allows me, not only to think about life, but also to learn how to appreciate it even in the toughest times. So there I am, no rush, no pressure. I’m walking uptown to 14^th Street to jump into the train to go back home. Suddenly, on a window I notice this rather dazzling statue- like figure of Virgin Mary. I look at her closely for a couple of minutes.

I notice her face does not have much detail. Interesting. I notice, however, the details and the beauty on her robe. A combination of gold and almost a marine blue, I can almost feel the robe flowing with the wind as Mary lovingly stands with her arms wide open. The subtle smile on her face almost makes me feel welcomed, somewhere.

It’s now Christmas time, New York City’s favorite holiday. I can tell merely by watching how many things they surrounded her with and the three decorations they put on her. She seems to be holding what looks like Christmas tree decorations in both of her welcoming hands. However, more than holding, for me she almost seems to be reaching out to give them to me, to share them. Once again, I feel like this is due to the emotions the expression on her face is evoking to her audience, to me.

All these details somehow elevated her presence. Standing on a window display, I could only imagine someone taking her home and placing her right on their entrance so as to let her welcome people into their lives. Just like Henry Ward Beecher, I believe her presence would elevate their household closer of God. This is not only because of the obvious factor that it is a statue- like figure of Virgin Mary, but because she was carefully made into a beautiful thing, and beauty is of God. Adding beauty to our lives is a good thing, Beecher argues, as it is a representation of God and God is good. We should seek aesthetic beauty with that which we surround ourselves with, and this object would make the cut.

In “The Varieties of Religious Experience”, William James talks about “religious sentiment”. He argues that for a connection to exist between a higher power and us, objects are crucial. Every Catholic Church has a big crucified Jesus nailed to the wall on the altar that is noticeable as soon as we walk in. Having a tangible and visible object completely changes the dynamic of mass as we can “see” the presence of God through it and many feel a more powerful connection. Much like this, having this Virgin Mary would aggrandize the connection to God for many, or so James would argue.