By Jonathan Landaw

At the end of August I had what for me is the increasingly rare opportunity of attending an extended Dharma course from beginning to ending. Even more rare, it was taught by a Westerner: the American geshe Ven. Michael Roach. At the outset of this article I would like to encourage anyone who has the chance of receiving teachings from this eminently qualified, eloquent and inspiring spiritual friend to do so without hesitation. At the risk of making even more indigestible for him the “hot iron ball of praise” referred to in my last offering, Michael’s way of presenting the Dharma is not merely unique, but very moving, informative and entertaining as well. While I hesitate to single out any one aspect of his teachings that I found particularly challenging to my mental and emotional habit patterns – since he illuminated so many points of Dharma for the eighty or so of us who attended his presentation of the Diamond Cutter Sutra at Vajrapani Institute – it was the way in which he wove together the themes of karma and emptiness that had perhaps the most profound effect on me.

But what inspires this present article is a brief, incidental comment he made towards the end of the course. He mentioned a conversation he had had recently with a member of the Vajrapani staff about the types of problems commonly experienced not only in California but at his own New York-based Asian Classics Institute and other centers he had visited. And while my memory does not allow me to quote him exactly, he then said something to this effect: These problems should not surprise us; as long as our minds are governed by the mental afflictions, we should expect to have problems, even at our Dharma centers.

On the face of it, this is not a very starting announcement. After all, how many times have we been told that it is our mental afflictions of ignorance, hatred, attachment, jealousy and so forth that create and perpetuate our unsatisfactory samsaric existence? But somehow, in the context of the teachings that he had been giving that entire week, this remark – little more than an aside or throw-away line – left a deep impression. So I would like to take this opportunity, indulgent reader, of exploring with you some thoughts that this apparently chance remark set off in my mind.

“We should expect to have problems, even at our Dharma centers.” It occurred to me that one of the factors that perpetuate problems at Dharma centers – and anyone who has ever stayed at one for any significant amount of time will have compiled a list of such “problems” ranging from petty annoyances to major grievances – is the unspoken and unexamined assumption that a Dharma center shouldn’t have any problems at all. For many of us, a Dharma center is a place we go to in order to find solutions for our everyday problems, or at least a brief holiday from them. If Dharma is “that which holds us back from suffering,” then a Dharma center, at the very least, should be a haven from such suffering. Otherwise, why go there? “If I wanted to have an argument,” we may think, “I could have had one in the comfort of my own home. I didn’t have to come all the way here just to fight with that damned Spiritual Program Director!”

When our colleague at work, our boss or employee, our neighbor or a family member acts in a sullen, selfish or just plain stupid manner, we may find it annoying but perhaps not particularly surprising. After all, what have any of them ever learned about the three poisonous minds or the eight worldly dharmas? If they have not sat through even one of Lama Zopa Rinpoche’s extended “motivations” how can anyone expect them to behave selflessly? It is a completely different matter, however, when one of our so-called Dharma brothers or sisters, someone who has studied the lam-rim for years and has heard countless teachings about the demon of self-cherishing, acts like a jerk. At such times there is a tendency to experience what we would call “double disappointment.” We not only dislike the annoying behavior but are indignant that “someone who should know better” has indulged in it. And if the offender happens to be a monk or a nun, then our disappointment and indignation are even more virulent. “Who else but a third-rate Sangha member would ever act like that?” we may fume. “Don’t the vows mean anything anymore?”

But an ordinary, worldly being is not transformed into a saintly arhat immediately upon taking robes, nor should anyone expect pure bodhisattva behavior from someone merely because he or she lives and works at a Dharma center. To harbor anything even slightly resembling such expectations is extremely unrealistic. As even cursory self-examination shows us, our selfish habit patterns of thought, word and deed are deeply ingrained and not easily eradicated. To expect others, or ourselves, to be more spiritually advanced than we are, merely because we have met, studied and even meditated upon the Dharma, is unrealistic and dooms us to perpetual disappointment and frustration.

Should we lower our expectations for wise, compassionate and skillful activity to zero? Should we hold out no hope for improvement in either others or ourselves? Should we forget about using something as lofty as the Mahayana ideal as the criterion for behavior in a Dharma center? No, I do not think so. The promise of the Dharma is that we can change, we can improve, we can uproot the delusions and cultivate the Perfections – and this change and improvement are to be undertaken as soon as possible. But unreasonable expectations about the results of Dharma practice, and the unfortunate tendency to use the Dharma as a stick with which we beat others or ourselves for not being “holy” enough, should be recognized and abandoned as much as we can. Eleanor Roosevelt was once referred to as someone who would rather light a candle than curse the darkness. To expand on this image, perhaps those of us who frequent Dharma centers would do better if we spent less time and energy deploring the darkness and more in lighting the flame of loving acceptance. Such a flame can become the fire of purification when we throw into it the seeds of delusion belonging to everyone and no one.