By Rev. Noriaki Fujimori
When I was minister of Waimea Higashi Hongwanji temple in Hawaii, I’d often visit members in the hospital. I’d visit almost every day, sometimes going to the Intensive Care Unit.
The temple had few members, but over those 20 years in Kauai whenever anyone was hospitalized, I’d visit. It felt like visiting people lying in hospital beds was part of my daily routine. Sometimes, I’d be by their side until the moment they passed away.
At the beginning, I was in my early 30s and going to the hospital was really tough. I felt pressure trying to think of something wise to say to someone facing death without much time left.
Then something changed, which stopped me from trying to preach. Encountering the reality of their suffering, what could I possibly tell them? Instead, I began to listen to what they had to say. I heard them voice their real pain. I realized it wasn’t about preaching to them, but rather, simply going and hearing about their suffering. The visits became more natural, and for me, a little easier.
Once when a nonprofit organization planned to create a garden on our temple grounds, we together discussed what kind of garden to make. They eventually showed up with a tree-trimming company to prune the trees.
I was shocked to see them cut down almost all our trees. Obviously there was a gap in understanding between the NPO and myself. I thought we decided to preserve the existing trees. Instead the trees disappeared. Among them were several trees that held special memories for me. I felt a deep sense of responsibility and guilt.
Afterward, an NPO member sent me a message saying, “The world is impermanent, so breathe and bring your mind to a state of peace.” I understood this idea in theory, but at the moment, it didn’t touch me at all. I felt like I was being looked down upon, preached to and lectured.
I recalled visiting the hospital, thinking I needed to preach to others. Now I felt ashamed, thinking I was speaking words of wisdom, when in their pain and anxiety, those words probably didn’t reach them.
Similarly when first informing my Buddhist teacher Wada-sensei in Japan that I was going to Hawaii to “teach Buddhism,” he scolded me. Instead, he told me to go and learn from the community.
In the Shōshin-ge, hymns written by Shinran Shonin, a passage reads:
To ken sho bu jō do in,
Koku do nin den shi zen maku.
In English it means:
In the Larger Sutra, although Dharmakara asked his teacher Se-jizai-ō Buddha to teach him how to practice, the teacher did not speak of it, but instead showed him the world (community).
Before Shakyamuni became the Buddha at age 35, he must have intended to become a wise person. After becoming enlightenment, what did he really preach?
For me, I learned the belief “I am wise” lives within me. Comparing myself to others, I’m not really wise. Doubting my own wisdom transcends the self.
-Rev. Fujimori is minister of Palolo Higashi Hongwanji temple in Honolulu, Hawaii