Dirt and Divinity

by Dr. Edgar A. Gamboa
Reprinted from the Asian Journal, October 12, 2007


Recently, I attended a talk by the noted Zen master, human rights activist and Nobel Peace Prize nominee Thich Nhat Hanh. The 80-yr-old Vietnamese monk, who drew worldwide attention for his efforts to bring North and South Vietnam to peaceful reconciliation in the 1960s, delivered the keynote address during the 18th Annual Social Issues Conference at the University of San Diego.

Author of over a hundred books on spirituality, psychology, and religion, Thich Nhat Hanh lives in Plum Village, a monastery in France, but travels around the world promoting "compassionate listening, peace, and understanding." At USD, his message touched on the current global war on terror. He spoke about how a peaceful pathway can be pursued if leaders listened to each other with genuine trust and understanding, tremendously difficult as that may be.

Garbed in a Buddhist monk's brown habit and seated in lotus position, he spoke softly to more than three thousand faculty members, students, and a mixed crowd of San Diegans about a wide range of subjects, any of which would easily take up a book's chapter, if not an entire volume. The one topic he dealt with which struck me was the problem of suffering.

Life is soaked in suffering. Entire civilizations suffer from war, natural disasters, poverty, starvation, sickness, crime, injustice, etc. We all desire a pain free life, a world devoid of suffering. Indeed, people often question the existence of God because of this painful reality. If a good God really exists, why is there so much pain and suffering around us?

All major religions have looked into this complex subject. Rabbi Harold Kushner's 1981 book, "When Bad Things Happen to Good People," which explored suffering on the occasion of his son's death, was a national bestseller and remains popular. Through the years, the metaphor I've found that gives at least part of the answer is that suffering is a kind of tapestry, a piece of embroidery in the making, which we can only view from the backside. The ugliness and randomness do not make sense to us until later (perhaps in the next life) when we can see the real masterpiece, from the front, from a comprehensive perspective.

Thich Nhat Hanh's Buddhist perspective offers the view that suffering is "mud, garbage, compost" -- ugly, smelly stuff. Yet, the wise gardener knows that mud is essential for roots to thrive. When roots reach deep, plants grow and bear fruits; flowers bloom.

Echoing "the little flower," the popular Catholic saint and Carmelite nun, Therese of Lisieux, the Buddhist monk from Bordeaux, reminded the audience that life is a garden, with a variety of plants and flowers. It needs rain and water, the good things, of course. But, it also needs, mud and compost, the dirty yucky stuff. It is through our pains and sufferings that we develop compassion, tolerance, sympathy, and understanding. It is through our compassion and understanding that we learn to love. And it is by loving that we become more like God.

To paraphrase the idea of the great theologian of the 5th century, St. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo: The Divine descended to become human so that we may ascend to become divine.