Exploratory: Comparing the Confucian Analects and the Ta Hsüeh and Chung Yung

This is a short paper that I wrote in response to two readings that I did for my Chinese religion class. It's pretty conversational and a little disorganized, but I think that the last two paragraphs do a pretty elegant job of summing up the differences and the interactions between spirituality, religion, and "ethical" or political thought.

The sets of lists at the beginning of the Ta Hsueh that fade into and crescendo out of one another display not only a religiosity (as Ken commented on in our reading maps), but also an order that is nothing short of staggering in its impressiveness. I began doing the reading before looking at the reading map (for shame!), but in this incident I actually appreciate the result of my inattentiveness: I came to an understanding of the Ta Hsüeh and Chung Yung as being quasi-religious on my own, and as a result it is slightly different from and therefore contrastable to the perspective you provided. The qualities of the Hsüeh neatly exemplify the hazy line that exists between “religion” and “spirituality.” Drawing the Analects into the comparative mixture only strengthens the broth in the melting pot of ethics, politics, religion, and ritual that the three texts in concert create.

The first two characteristics that one immediately notices about the Ta Hsüeh and Chung Yung is their attention to linear organization and the texts’ focus on the individual. Especially in comparison to the Analects, the personal level of propriety is quite stressed and detailed; as is explicated in the diagram on pages five and six of the Hsüeh, the openness and flexible stability of an individual’s mind is the necessary and primary cause for, ultimately, world peace. In comparison to the emphasis placed on filial piety and ritual propriety in the Analects, the deeply personal advice of the “supposedly” ethically-focused Hsüeh seems much more spiritual than the “religious” Analects.

It is very frustrating to me that, so often, ethics, spirituality, and religion become so polarized from each other. As a person who unabashedly refers to herself and identifies as spiritual, it makes me really uncomfortable when people a) accuse spiritual practice of being “religious” and b) assume that because spirituality is an integral part of the religious experience for many people, that the spiritual cannot be present in the moral or ethical, as the latter two are supposed to be “rational” and ideologically neutral realms. Letter “a” addresses the first question on the reading map; I think that it is inappropriate to call the Ta Hsüeh and Chung Yung religious. Although the tone of the works is certainly transcendental and the content prescriptive to a realm that most people access only through deep intuitive focus, the advice in the Hsüeh fits into the Chinese system of ethics as ascribed by its context more than it fits into the religious sphere. I say this for two reasons: first, that Chinese ethics are clearly grounded in the perfection of the individual, and such work can only happen vis a vis the advice given in the Hsüeh; and second that, as is shown in the Analects, personal, spiritual enlightenment is clearly not the prerogative of the religious realm. Ritual practice and the ancestral cult combined make up the keystone of Chinese religion, and as is written in P. 1215 of the Analects, “if there is filial piety in serving one’s parents and obedience in heeding orders and these are set into the world, then everything will get done.” Clearly, ritual and ancestor worship clearly serve the purpose of teaching and maintaining filial piety, which is itself the cornerstone of Chinese social cohesion. Thus, it would appear to Western eyes that the Hsüeh and the Analects serve one another’s purpose, and are thus improperly cross-catalogued with one another; that the religious text serves to teach about social conduct and ethics, and that the ethical text serves as a guideline to personal spiritual growth.

My response to the above statement is: and what is so wrong about that?! Reading a corrupting “religious” bias into a text that espouses personal enlightenment and the “cultivation of [one’s] own character” is the Western knee-jerk reaction to centuries of tension between the Western Church, which serves to instruct personal morality, and the State, whose primary function, via the Law, is to prescribe guidelines that engender social organization. When one truly analyses and compares the respective social functions of religion and ethics/morality, the characteristics of the Hsüeh and the Analects actually start to make a lot more sense.
In a very widespread and popular social setting, as is noted in the Analects themselves, order and the collective become very important. As we discussed in class on Friday, people who are attempting to function successfully in large groups need to operate like individuals gears in a vast network of emotional machinery, constantly checking and redirecting themselves in order to match with the rhythm of the whole. Thus, the importance of ritual; having a prescribed and set way of doing things is pretty much the only way to guarantee social cohesion when you’re working with a large mass of individuals. In order for the rules of the ritual to be followed, they must be esteemed as very important, and it is at that moment of endowing severe significance to ritual practice that it crosses over from the quotidian province of the handshake to the awesome and mysterious realm of religion. However, because the alchemical process that transforms ritual into religion is often non-linear and definitely not obvious, the two can often become almost indistinguishable. The common trait that ritual and religion always have in common is personal involvement, and hence personal investment, the ritual and the religious often end up being characterized together as being inherently “emotional,” and thus irrational, disorderly, and therefore not applicable to politics.
The extreme order of the Ta Hsüeh in particular clearly shows that the path to emotional transformation can be anything but erratic. The wisdom of the Hsüeh, however, lies beyond the order that it espouses. As evidenced by the great emotion that religion inspires, rules are best followed when they hold personal appeal to those they attempt to sway. Thus, it makes good sense that ethical systems should also be rooted in personal conviction. It’s true that when left simply at that the door is left over for all sorts of types of crazy fundamentalism, religious included, but when personal emotional involvement is prescribed, as it is in the Hsüeh, it becomes completely possible for the political sphere to encompass the personal. Indeed, regardless of how messy the outcome, the personal and the political always intertwine; making space for emotion in politics actually seems to be the most peaceful and productive way to allow the two to coexist.

In sum, the “spiritual” (a silly term which, at this point, can act as shorthand for the deep, emotionally involved and intuitive state that the advice in the Hsüeh seeks to engender) and the “religious” (which, in this context, refers to the active, collaborative social enactment of the order created by doing “spiritual” work) are separated by their form much more than their function. The same is true when one compares religion and politics in China. Due to the role that filial piety plays in both religion and politics, political action can be seen simply as the result of what one learns from religious instruction: how to properly engage with one’s family. Ultimately, the “spiritual” and the political” in Chinese society are almost indistinguishable, as they are related on every level; “the cultivation of one’s individual character constitutes the core of all attainment” because it s successful development allows the individual to operate on the “correct conceptual grid.” Thanks to the Analects, we know that the mental state being referred to in the Ta Hsüeh is that which espouses filial piety; it is the incredibly reverent, respectful, open, and sincere countenance necessary to approach the ancestors in the shrine. Finally, proper filial piety is the key to maintaining order in the state, as the family is the guiding metaphor for Chinese government.

In conclusion, (and in the context of the Analects and the Ta Hsüeh and Chung Yung in particular) although spirituality, religion, and politics superficially appear to engage radically different parts of the human psyche, such is not actually the case—as is brilliantly outlined in the Ta Hsüeh, the three are actually just building blocks that work off of one another to ultimately manifest as the same unified and contained whole: personal, familial and, ultimately, political peace.

Visions

There was just a lot of white stuff. No vision, just whiteness. I don't really remember anything except a booming voice. It was like being born. Or maybe dying. I don't know really, it's not like I'd be able to remember either of them. But the voice: it was getting hard to ignore.

"'God' is just what is true: physics, numbers, time. Wavelengths and vibrations. Resonance. We have forgotten our prophets -- we rename them philosophers in order to strip away the old religious connotations that would otherwise continue an order of consciousness that is currently becoming ineffective. It is the job of the philosopher, the prophet, to translate the truth of the universe, these patterns, into a code that can be understood by the maximum populous. The time has come to re-write the code: because the- rather, we inhabitants of the modern West are no longer competently literate in the old code, the ancient, mystical, 'religious' symbols have lost their integrity within society. Presently they will lose their meaning. Unfortunately, with the understanding of the universe provided by such knowledge will go any semblance of contact between individuals and their internal vibrations (instinct and essence). If such a thing were to happen a very large cosmic shift would be inevitable. I doubt it would be very much in our favor."

"But!" I felt myself crying. I don't know why I was doing it, I didn't want to. I hadn't been listening very much to what he was saying. But there my mouth went again: "But fortunately humans aren't... aren't incompetent! We're biologically destined, we've been crafted by time to succeed!"

Slowly, a man walked out of the void. Or maybe he materialized a little bit first, in a stationary position, and then walked. He looked kinda like John Malkovich and from then on I couldn't think of him as anyone else. He was impeccably dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks. His shoes and bald head gleamed, and he laid a hand on my left shoulder. I thought this was a kind gesture, attempting to calm me in such a confusing environment. His aura would have been purple if he'd had one, but don't ask me how I know that. I guess I just associate that color with nice things, like my mother. Lilacs were always her favorite flower.

In the midst of this kinda reverie I was struck with the curious sensation that I ought to listen to him, so I did, and then he opened his mouth and started speaking.

"Against alien environments- we can succeed against alien beings. But no, no, not E.T. -- I felt you thinking that. No. Just against the outer, separate things that the brain is capable of conceptualizing, replicating, thus destroying. But man can never truly conceptualize himself until he has become selfless. Ego gets in the way. We keep who we are on the most real level a mystery so as not to be thrown into despair by what we are- do you see the problem? And even if we were, deep down, resplendent, have you yet met a man who can see his own face, who can truly get outside himself? You see, everything must have a yang, Ricky."

I knew John was speaking. I could see his mouth moving. But the words seemed to be being rerouted within the atmosphere- I had a horrifyingly distinct sense that he was both behind and in front of me at the same time. There was a slight metallic buzzing all around. This couldn't be real, and if it was I didn't want to believe he was telling the truth. He had to have been mistaken, thought I was someone else, addressed some other, inaudible question. The man hadn't known my name, I realized, and breathed a sigh of relief. The whole day, or hour, or five minutes or whatever, had been weird enough that I didn't really notice being addressed as Ricky, but now the name hung over my brain like a cool mist. John Malkovich had to be wrong. He had to be. He didn't even know who I was! I thought to myself that perhaps he was the other voice, that he had just been behind some kinda one-way mirror, and that maybe he just had messianic delusions, and we were really in this white room for a safe, routine reason. Maybe we were a part of a focus group and about to be provided with a new kind of food or an antidepressant or a pair of socks. That had to be it; otherwise, I wanted out.

There was a metallic sound, like a scraping or a slight shock, and I was filled with a feeling of déjà vu concerning being very grateful that the green grid which had previously been superimposed over my vision was finally gone. I was sure that nothing remotely like this this had ever happened before, but neither had anything that was currently entering my eye- and ear-holes. When the remembering feeling subsided, although everything still felt quite strange and I couldn't really see once more, I was filled with an irrevocable sense of pleasure, and slowly I sat down. It was nice to just see some plain white again. Although I like John Malkovich quite a bit and I really respect his work, it always makes me feel kind of nervous to be around famous people, like they're perpetually doing something right and I'm just some guy in the corner of the room who's taking up more space than anyone with his flappy elbows or something, so then I'm not quite anonymous but nobody really likes me either. It's like I feel as though they'd only wanna pay attention to me to complain or because I was close to someone who we all think is great, know what I mean?



A while later my analyst said that this was what's called a psychotic vision, but I remember feeling pretty calm the entire time. I'm not sure how much I trust my analyst most of the time but I'm pretty sure I get more than him, and he's an alright guy, so I can't say I mind the little extra company and attention every couple of weeks. And I feel like I can maintain my dignity when he tells me what to do, because at least he isn't a famous asshole like John Malkovich.