I was recently at the BCA seminar for Temple Leaders. It is an eye opening experience to listen to the situation of various temples through the eyes of the presidents and officers of their temples. It was also a relief when Bishop Umezu said to me, “Your temples are very special. They are different from each other, not cookie cutter, but I feel very comfortable at them. The people there are so warm and friendly and they seem to want to be there because they appreciate the Dharma.” This was after we heard many temple leaders speaking about their temples problems with basketball families or getting people to help out with food bazaars and if the families of the children who play basketball or are members of girl or boy scouts but do not join the temple. He said it reminded him of a story of Rev. Dr. David Matsumoto called “The temple of the three Bs.” I want to share this story with all of you.
The Temple of the Three B’s
Rev. Dr. David Matsumoto
IT WAS A MAGNIFICENT SIGHT, more beautiful than I had ever imagined. As I approached the abandoned Buddhist temple sagging beneath the weight of its ancient roof, its fabled name came almost magically to my lips, “The Temple of the Three B’s!”
“Yes,” came a voice from behind the clumps of weeds that engulfed the old structure, “and now you see what it has become.”
The old man was upon me before I knew it. His yellowed face bespoke years of silent and solitary grief. I tried to pull away from him, but he grabbed my collar with his hands and pulled my face toward the Temple door. His garb told me that he had once been a priest of some sort and it was obvious that the years had not dampened his need to sermonize. I was trapped. There was nothing else to do but listen to his story.
“It was not always this way, you know,” he began. “At one time this temple was filled with people, young and old. We were so very happy. We thought it would never end. And then we started to worship the Three B’s.”
“Yes,” I found myself breaking in, “legend speaks of the Three B’s.”
The old man never took his eyes from the Temple door. He simply nodded his head and continued to speak,
“At first, the Three B’s were just parts of this Temple's activities. They were important parts, to be sure, but still just parts. At some point, however, they became the total focus of this Temple. They even came to overshadow the Buddhist teachings themselves.
“We came to worship the Three B’s instead of the Three Treasures. We started to believe that the Temple was here for the sake of the Three B’s, instead of the other way around. We followed only the Three B’s and now look at what has happened. Look at what this Temple has become.”
Tears streamed from the old man's eyes. I wanted to comfort him, but I could not. I had to ask, “Tell me. What were the Three B’s?”
How many years he must have waited for that question! His reply came with swift precision, before my own words had even ended.
“Babies, Basketball and Bazaars.”
His tone was surprisingly warm, and I could tell that he did not hate those words. No, he loved them for they represented three things that had once been important and vital. But something had obviously gone too far.
The old man's voice was soft and clear,
“The first B stood for Babies. Once we had children by the hundreds. We sought to teach them the Way of Truth. We all knew that the Dharma is the Truth that is fundamental to the lives of all beings ‑ young or old, male or female, rich or poor. Thus, parents and grandparents were all involved in our Dharma School. Entire families would attend our Temple services every week.
“But then, something happened. Some adults started to believe that Buddhism was just for Babies. They didn't think that religion was for them. Adults whose children were grown stopped coming to the Temple altogether. Other parents would drop their own children off at the Temple gate on Sunday morning and then go somewhere to eat breakfast. But they didn't understand that the food they needed ‑ their true nourishment ‑ was the Buddha-dharma. And thus their spiritual selves began to starve and the Temple began to wither.
“The second B stood for Basketball. This was the main recreation for our young people, and, in that sense, it was a good thing. It helped our young people develop strong bodies. It taught them about teamwork and friendship. It brought people out to the Temple.
“But somewhere along the way, it ceased to be just a means and became an end in itself. Some people started to think of the Temple as one big gymnasium. Adults would spend hours coaching, feeding, transporting and cheering. But they could not manage to set one foot inside of the Temple. Some young people would attend Dharma School just to play on the Temple teams. Then when basketball ended, so would their attendance at services. To them, our Temple was just a recreational center.
“The Third B stood for Bazaars. We all knew that our Temple could not exist on air alone, so our people would all get together once a year to raise funds for our Temple's operations. At that time, everyone would come out to help and they would work very hard: planning, building, cleaning, cooking and selling. Our Bazaar was always a success. It brought back a community feeling and made quite a lot of money'
“But here again, something changed in the minds of some people. They would work hard once a year for the sake of the Temple. But somehow, that was enough for them. They would help out at the Bazaar, but then they would not be seen again until the following year. They believed that the Bazaar was the only important Temple activity and their only concern was to maintain our Temple's physical buildings and structures.”
The old man stopped to catch his breath, his gaze still fixed on the Temple door. After a moment he began to speak again,
“We had a beautiful Temple! It was a gorgeous structure! But, we lost its heart. We failed to keep its religious heart alive.
“Our Babies left. Children grew up and when they did, they stopped coming to the Temple, just like their parents. Basketball also disappeared. Young players grew up and left the Temple too, just like their parents. And then, the Bazaar ended. Older people died and the community spirit died with them. Before long, the funds and the people were gone, and the weeds took over. Now there are only weeds.”
His story puzzled me, and I asked him, “But, how could the people have let that happen?”
“Because we failed to understand the living heart of Buddhism. We did not truly realize shinjin. Long ago, the Buddha spoke about this very thing when he said,
This person's shinjin is belief only that a path exists and not that there are people who attain the path. Therefore it is called ‘imperfectly realized shinjin.’
“We knew in our minds that there is a Path to Buddhahood. We had been taught as children about the Eightfold Path. But to us that Path was just a word; the Dharma was just a theory. We didn't feel in our hearts that either had anything to do with us or our everyday lives.
“What we did not understand was that there are people who attain the Path. Śākyamuni Buddha attained the Path. So did Shinran Shōnin. And both of them taught us that each and every one of us can also attain our own Path to Buddhahood.
“If we had only taken refuge in the Buddha, Dharma and Sangha, instead of taking refuge in the Three B’s. If we had only realized that the Buddha-dharma can free us from the hells we create for ourselves. If we had only realized that it addresses our deepest hopes and desires. If we had only understood that each of us has to seek to hear the Dharma; each of us must try to find our Path in our life.
“If only we had understood. If only we had listened. There might today still be a Temple whose heart is alive and beating as one with our own religious hearts.”
With a shudder, the old man fell silent. He and I stood together for an eternity, locked in our strange embrace in front of the Temple door. We stood together in the stillness of that late summer evening, listening to the silence coming from behind that door. It was the silence of a billion voices, calling out from the depths of their being. Calling out from the beginningless past. Calling out the nembutsu—Namu Amida Butsu. For me.
I heard those billions of voices from the past and knew they were meant for billions of ears in the future. At that moment, I knew that Namu Amida Butsu is how I must live; it is what I must do and what I must hear. Turning at last to the old priest, I caught his gaze for the first time, and the words I spoke were from my heart.
“I understand. Please allow me to hear the Buddha-dharma. Namu Amida Butsu.”
When I thought of this story and about this temple, it made me think of a game that I have recently been addicted to, it’s called “The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. In this game, you wander around fighting demons, dragons and monsters. It is necessary to conquer puzzles or various types. You walk to various ruins of temples and castles. There isn’t a lot of explanation for why the temples or castles were ruined. I don’t even know what the goal of the game is or what constitutes winning the game. However, I believe the game is the journey itself. Just as the goal of life is found within the journey. The symbol that the hero link carries is called the “Triforce.” It just so happens that the symbol for the triforce is also my family’s crest. In the game the triforces stands for “power, courage and wisdom.” In Jodo Shinshu we speak of “bonno” which is comprised of greed, anger and stupidity, “GAS.” In evolutionary psychology, it is quite established that our human survival was dependent on having these survival instincts. However, it has also been proven that these instincts can be transcended and overcome with Genorosity, Kindness, Compassion, this is the Triforce and the one B to support us is Buddha Dharma.
Here is to your journey, I hope that you will enjoy it and remember to use the triforce, which can be shortened to one phrase,“Namo Amida Butsu. May the force be with you.”