Reflections on Universal Empathy: The Relevance of Shinran’s Thought for Contemporary Society

Abstract

Through an examination of his core doctrinal points, I argue that Shinran’s conception of Pure Land Buddhism (Jōdo Shinshū) should not be so readily dismissed as one that is only salvific in an otherworldly sense, with no relevance to contemporary, everyday life, nor should it be reduced to a purely ethnic form of Buddhism without any reference to its universal dimension. Through this analysis, we will find that Shinran’s adoption of a unique and honest evaluation of our inner lives through receiving the wisdom and compassion of Amida Buddha can offer people of today’s world a way to embrace a spirit of self-acceptance so that one can live with confidence, integrity, and a modest joy, despite the manifold shortcomings of the human condition. Through the radical transformation of one’s dissatisfaction and suffering, an uncontrived ethical impulse is able to emerge, accompanied by a keen awareness of deep empathy for others, leading to an existence informed by empathy instead of animosity.

1. Introduction

Compared to schools of Buddhism that focus on intellectual or meditative practices such as Theravāda and Zen, the Pure Land tradition—especially the Japanese school of Jōdo Shinshū (hereafter, “Shinshū”)—has not been afforded the same attention in Western scholarship over the past one hundred years. The teaching of Shinran (1173–1263 CE), which serves as the foundation of the Shinshū perspective, has often been considered to be largely faith-based and thus thought to be comparable to theistic beliefs, while also being associated with Japanese immigrants to the United States during the late nineteenth to early twentieth centuries. Authorities in the field of Shinshū studies, such as Kenneth Tanaka and Taitetsu Unno, have recognized the challenges of making this tradition better known to Western audiences. (Tanaka 1998, p. 88; Unno 1998, pp. 6–7). While acknowledging that Shinshū is “no longer to be understood as simply a Japanese religion,” Galen Amstutz has also pointed out that while it may appear that Shinshū should have already become a better-known spiritual option, this is yet to be the case, and knowledge of its existence outside of Japan is still mostly confined to its limited (predominantly Japanese-American) religious community and to “a relative handful of specialized scholars of religions.” (Amstutz 2010, pp. 101, 104).

Amidst these challenges, there have been calls from the aforementioned Shinshū authors, as well as others (such as Shigeki Sugiyama and Toshimaro Ama), for a more robust presentation of this tradition that speaks to postmodern ethical concerns (Ama’s perspective will be discussed below). Unno cited Bloom as identifying the purported weakness in Shinshū’s inordinately inward focus, which “obstructs the development of social ethic.” (Unno 1998, p. 7).1 Unno himself stated that Shinshū ought to preserve basic Mahāyāna (Great Vehicle) Buddhist principles, as well as Japanese cultural traditions, while endeavoring to adapt Asian values to meet Western expectations. (Unno 1998, p. 18). Tanaka re-affirms a critique (that he acknowledges had already existed at the time of his article) that the Shinshū practice of nembutsu or reciting the Name of Amida Buddha, Namo Amidabutsu (literally, “Take refuge in the Buddha of Immeasurable Light and Life”), was carried out without a concern for others. These criticisms are perplexing, seeing as Shinran’s teaching arose during a time when conditions in society were not so dissimilar to ours, notwithstanding the great differences in time, culture, and geography between the two. Sugiyama acknowledged this fact, stating that “the conditions that existed were not unique to Shinran’s Japan. Similar, if not worse, conditions existed in medieval Europe. And can we say that conditions today in the whole world are much different or improved?” (Sugiyama 1998, p. 310).

This neglect of Shinshū in Western scholarship has curtailed the potential of this Buddhist path to offer valuable insights into our postmodern, globalized society and to reach out to people beyond the confines of ethnicity and nationality. Accordingly, there still exists a need to present Shinshū in a way that is true to its core tenets, especially its profound scrutiny of the self and its understanding of the human condition, as well as its ethical implications for our contemporary era. Therefore, in response to concerns that Shinshū needs to be somehow re-adapted in order to reach Western audiences, or that it must largely abandon its introspective focus, I suggest that rather than adulterating its teaching, the conditions of Shinran’s world should be compared to our own, and his insights judged in that light. In this way, we will find that the concerns of our respective eras are not so dissimilar after all, and that the same teaching that guided Shinran, and the people of his time, can continue to guide us today.

2. The Relevance of Shinran’s World to Our Own

During the early life of Shinran2, who was born in Kyōto, there were many natural disasters, such as fires and earthquakes, that led to widespread casualties. There were also terrible famines, in addition to wars and civil unrest.3 During such crises, desperate people aggressively pursued their own interests, motivated by intense greed and anger, in very difficult circumstances. Spiritual life had become debased, and no one was attaining enlightenment, as Śākyamuni Buddha (c. 6th–5th century BCE) had achieved nearly one thousand years earlier in Northern India. Despite engaging in rigorous monastic practices for twenty years at the Tendai monastery on Mt. Hiei, Shinran felt that the observance of strict ascetic discipline was not bringing him any closer to enlightenment. (Kikumura 1972, pp. 72–74). Struck with despondency, he became deeply troubled over how anyone living during a time of acute moral and social degradation, such as his, could benefit from the True Dharma. In other words, how was one to transcend this world of tragic afflictions and reach the serene haven of Nirvāṇa?

Just as in Shinran’s time, we witness today a plethora of conflicts and calamities. Furthermore, we observe people (including ourselves) being driven by folly and craving. Not only that, but our world is seemingly bereft of enlightened sages who can impart to us the liberating wisdom and compassion that Śākyamuni Buddha was once able to do. Thus, humanity in these times still very much seeks (as it did in ages past) to overcome sorrow and disappointment in our ever-changing world.

In his providential encounter with the Pure Land teacher Hōnen (1133–1212 CE), Shinran found an abiding refuge in the practice of exclusive recitation of nembutsu. Shinran later clarified that, for this recitation to be an effective path to emancipation, it should not be said in a rote fashion but, rather, its invocation must be sustained by a “true and real” entrusting4 (Jp. shinjitsu shinjin) in Amida’s Fundamental Vow (Jp. hon gan; Hereafter, “Amida’s Vow” or simply “the Vow”), along with a searching scrutiny of what it means to be an unenlightened human being. The only recourse available to troubled ordinary people (Jp. bonbu or bonpu) living in the “Last Dharma Age” (Jp. mappō) was to completely entrust themselves to Amida’s Vow.

In light of these parallels between the social conditions of thirteenth-century Japan and our own time, I argue that Shinran’s conception of Pure Land Buddhism should not continue to be dismissed so readily as one that is only salvific in an otherworldly sense5 with no relevance to the concerns of our time, nor should it be reduced to a purely ethnic form of Buddhism without any reference to its universal dimensions.

Shinran adopts a unique approach in offering an honest evaluation of our inner lives that is without any spiritual idealism. By encouraging refuge in Amida’s Vow through hearing its deeper meaning, beyond the limitations of conventional language, he is able to show sincere seekers—even in today’s world—how to embrace a spirit of self-acceptance. In this way, one can live with confidence, integrity, and a modest joy, despite the manifold shortcomings of the human condition. As a result, the experience of disappointment and suffering is radically transformed, and an uncontrived ethical6 impulse is able to emerge. This is contrary to previous criticisms that Shinshū is only an inward-looking religion or, as Hee-Sung Keel claimed, that Shinran’s idea of compassion only had a posthumous focus. (Keel 1995, pp. 151–53). Indeed, his accusation that the life of faith envisaged by Shinran does not allow its followers to live in a way that betters the world will be challenged by showing that the self-awareness made possible by means of the Vow is not a pessimistic or self-absorbed one but, rather, represents a holistic awakening. This is naturally accompanied by a keen awareness of deep empathy for others as fellow sentient beings, leading to an existence informed by empathy instead of animosity. One can then live authentically with great compassion for others in this life, due to the emancipating reality of Nirvāṇa, which is directed towards us now and fully realized at the end of one’s life.

3. Parameters and Clarifications

Before taking this discussion further, several points need to be established. Firstly, it behooves us to remember that Shinshū is, after all, a de facto Buddhist teaching. Seeing as Anglophone societies are generally influenced by Judeo-Christian mores—regardless of an individual’s spiritual beliefs—it may easily be forgotten that the framework of Buddhism differs significantly from that of Abrahamic religions. In fact, there may be an unconscious temptation to situate Shinshū within such a framework,7 instead of respecting its autonomy in that respect (as one would normally do with Zen or Tibetan schools). Accordingly, readers need to have some familiarity with the Buddhist world-view, particularly that of the Mahāyāna, in order to appreciate Shinshū on its own merits. To this end, a brief overview of the tenets that Shinran took for granted will be presented, followed by a clarification of unique aspects in his teaching that are relevant to our discussion. This will include an account of Shinran’s understanding of what it means to entrust in the Vow, as related in his Ken Jōdo Shinjitsu Kyō Gyō Shō Monrui (A Collection of Passages Revealing the True and Real Teaching, Practice, and Enlightenment of the Pure Land; Hereafter, Kyō Gyō Shin Shō). Accordingly, we shall provide—in light of his teaching—a contemplative reflection on the sacred story of Amida Buddha as told in The Sutra of Immeasurable Life as expounded by Śākyamuni Buddha (Jp. Bussetsu Muryōju Kyō; Commonly referred to as The Larger Sutra). We will then tie all these strands together into an integrated perspective that offers people today an emancipating vision of personal identity and its implications for our relations with others. This will be accomplished through a commentary comprising four subsections.

The first clarifies why the Vow was necessary in light of the evil8 inherent in the human condition. The second focuses on what it means to encounter the wisdom and compassion of Amida Buddha. Following this, the third subsection discusses how one can be brought to understand the self by means of Amida’s active working. Finally, we will indicate how the emergence of this awareness necessarily leads to discerning the unique value of all sentient life. We will come to see, then, that this renewed appreciation of a shared existence with others is deeply informed by our spiritual relationship to Truth–Reality itself. In other words, it is through the Buddha’s all-pervasive influence that we can fully accept—with all of our emotional afflictions—what we really are, and, as an extension of that, to embrace an empathetic social ethic in relation to our fellow human beings, whom one perceives as suffering from the very same existential malady as we do.

This portion of the paper is being presented in a so-called “confessional” manner that may be considered somewhat unconventional by Western academic standards. In his prologue to American Sutra, Duncan Ryūken Williams wrote that “[a] sutra is a Buddhist scripture, a text that contains Buddhism’s most essential teachings. But these insights cannot be transmitted without people to actualize them.” (Williams 2019, p. 5). Scott Mitchell describes Williams as an advocate for “‘sympathetically understanding’ Buddhism as a living tradition…” (Mitchell 2023, p. 7). Furthermore, as Amstutz has observed, “[Shinshū] is a world religion with the potentiality to bring insight and wisdom to a suffering humanity. Shin Buddhist Studies, hence, has the obligation to open its storehouse of knowledge and wisdom for all peoples, transcending national and cultural boundaries and responding to the yearnings of humanity for meaning and fulfillment.” (Amstutz 2010, p. 101). In other words, it should not be forgotten that Buddhism (and hence Shinshū) is a living tradition that is not limited to doctrinal jargon from premodern times. Presenting its teachings through a purely doctrinal prism has been carried out to no end, and, as Amstutz said in quoting Albert Einstein, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, while expecting different results.” (Amstutz 2010, p. 101). As far as the author is aware, there has been no attempt to present the core Shinshū practice of reciting Amida’s Name and entrusting in Amida’s Vow in a way that brings together doctrine with lived experience.9 To this end, we feel compelled to “break the rules” by combining a neutral presentation of history and core tenets with a “confessional” approach (from within the tradition) to demonstrate how a fully existential encounter with Shinshū is possible. Without challenging standard scholarly approaches to this subject, Shinshū will become ensnared in a form of academic discourse that does not allow it to be seen for what it is—a universal Buddhist teaching for all people.

In light of this approach, we are not concerned with Shinshū as an institution or a merely dogmatic tradition, as much as with its core doctrinal teachings as expounded by Shinran. Unno defined “Shinshū tradition” to include its now seven-hundred-year-plus institutional history, sectarian conflicts, along with various rules, regulation, guidelines, and protocols (originating in feudal Japan)—not to mention an authoritarian disposition that developed during the premodern period (Unno 1998, pp. 9, 17). Accordingly, we shall ignore Unno’s much broader understanding of what comprises the core tradition,10 as well as (in line with Kiyozawa’s suggestion presented below) any doctrinal developments subsequent to Shinran. Therefore, we do not claim to represent any particular Shinshū sect or its idiosyncratic concerns.

Furthermore, instead of rooting Shinshū solely within its founder’s thought, as is often done, Shinran will be placed within the Pure Land tradition with which he identified (and, by extension, the Great Vehicle of Mahāyāna and Buddhism generally). This distinction must be made in order to distinguish our perspective from other presentations which are inclined to envisage Shinran as having established a school that may or may not reflect traditional Buddhist principles, as opposed to seeing him as a genuine and faithful follower of the Buddha-Dharma.11

Secondly, this paper does not claim to be the only attempt at presenting a Shinshū ethical framework. Of the various proposals that have been put forward, it may be helpful to focus on the position adopted by Kiyozawa Manshi (1863–1903) at the end of his life (as presented by Mark Blum and Toshimaro Ama)12, Takagi Kemmyō’s (1864–1914) stance on this question (the reasons behind Ama’s call for a renewed Shinshū ethic), and Tanaka’s view as indicated above.13

Blum has shown that, towards the end of his life, Kiyozawa Manshi—a philosopher and priest associated with the Ōtani sect—proposed that Shinshū institutions reconsider the basis of their ethical teaching, which, at the time, was based on a peculiar understanding of the “Two Truths Doctrine” (Jp. shinzoku nitai; Skt. paramārtha-saṃvṛti-satyau). According to its original meaning, this doctrine referred to the relationship between “absolute (transcendent) truth” (Jp: shin-tai; Skt. lokottara) and “relative (mundane) truth” (Jp. Zoku-tai; Skt. laukika). The former is a truth surpassing conventional knowledge to which one must awaken, while the latter refers to worldly notions that sentient beings need to overcome in order to vanquish their primordial ignorance (Jp. mumyō; Skt. avidyā). However, in the Shinshū tradition following Shinran, this doctrine came to connote the juxtaposition of “Buddha’s Law” and “the King’s Law,” considered as working in tandem with one another.14 Seeing as, for Kiyozawa, Shinshū was thought to have no prescribed practices, any worldly activity was left to the state’s determination, based on its own interests. (Blum 2023, p. 29). His view was that whether morality is dictated by the state or religion, it “cannot be clarified and cannot be carried out even when it is clarified” because “worldly morality is based on worldly logic, religious or secular, both bound by rationality and the need for empirical confirmation. The nirvāṇic perspective is beyond logic and rationality, and therefore does not rely on empirical evidence for its truth claims; it relies on religious experience.” (Blum 2023, pp. 33–34). In other words, the realization that one can never perfectly conform to so-called “established ethics”—whether secular or religious—naturally draws one closer to Amida. That is, one is pulled out of this world of relativity and immersed in a trans-mundane order of reality—a position that is closer to both the original Two Truths Doctrine and to Shinran’s own teachings. Ama clarifies that Kiyozawa understood that one’s relationship to the transcendent was not a limited or self-absorbed relationship, but one that moves people to “show greater concern for the ethical relationships among finite beings themselves, and as a result, strive to put into practice the progress and improvement of the human world.” (Ama 2001, pp. 44–45). In his essay, Blum concludes that Kiyozawa encouraged others “to set aside sectarian scholarship that has redefined Shinran, obscuring as much as clarified [sic] his message, and to read Shinran directly.” (Blum 2023, p. 34).

Ama has also noted the push for social ethics from another Higashi Honganji priest, Takagi Kemmyō. His perspective was to avoid basing our moral actions on “general plans or slogans” but, rather, to engage in social action within one’s karmic path based on an inner transformation of the self, elicited through the knowledge that we are received by Amida’s compassion. In this way, Takagi was moved to adopt Amida’s practice as his own in order to encourage “progress” and “community.” For him, “progress” meant “realizing peace through thoroughgoing opposition to war and elimination of social inequality and discrimination,” whereas “community” referred to a life where people do not have to “struggle for existence” and can lead spiritually fulfilling lives. (Ama 2001, pp. 48–50).

Ama focuses on these two modern-era Shinshū priests so as to make a case for a renewed Shinshū social ethic. He argues that the transcendent nature of Shinshū can help us to see the conflicts and contradictions within our relative world through an external, more objective perspective. Furthermore, he claims that Shinshū followers have a tendency to believe that a reliance on “Other-Power” entails having to accept the world “as it is,” thus avoiding active participation in society. (Ama 2001, pp. 36–38).15 Ama considered this last reason to be a “mistaken view,” and thus insists that social ethics is an important component of Shinshū practice. He considers social ethics to be a “question of a person’s role in, and responsibility towards, social problems, and how one can best engage oneself in society in order to create a better world.” (Ama 2001, p. 35).

Tanaka approaches this question from a different perspective, proposing that “constantly practicing16 great compassion” (Jp. jōgyō daihi)—one of the benefits of shinjin bestowed in this life,17 according to Shinran—should be considered the basis for a Shinshū ethic. This position is derived from a passage cited by Shinran that appears in the Chinese Pure Land Master Tao-cho’s (562–645 CE) Collection of Passages on the Land of Peace and Bliss (Jp. An Raku Shū, Ch. An Le chi), in which the Sutra on Great Compassion (Jp. Daihi Kyō) is quoted as follows: “What is ‘great compassion’? Those who continue solely in the recitation of the Name of the Buddha (nembutsu), without any interruption, will thereby be born without fail in the land of happiness at the end of life. If these people encourage each other and bring others to recite the Name, they are called ‘people who practice great compassion.’” (Tanaka 1998, p. 94; Jōdo Shinshū Hongwanji-ha 1997a, p. 119 (hereafter, CWS); Chūshaku-ban, 260). Through his reflections on this passage, Tanaka comes to conclude that this practice of great compassion “reveals a paradigm for a basis of social action that is (1) more spiritually-based, and (2) more self-reflective than the dominant forms of ethical models found in the West.” As such, he argues that the doctrine of “constantly practicing great compassion” has “the potential to add fresh insights to the field of contemporary ethics.” (Tanaka 1998, p. 101). He also points out that such practice is inherently linked to one’s entrusting in Amida, with the aim of overcoming one’s afflictions.18

While these positions offer strong foundations to build upon, they lack certain features that are necessary to present Shinshū as a viable ethical path based on its unique understanding of compassion. What is largely missing is guidance that allows people to see what actions are being encouraged and why. Based on an adapted portion of Ama’s definition, Shinshū social ethics in this paper will refer to “how one can best contribute to fostering empathetic relationships in society instead of adversarial ones, so that suffering is reduced for both ourselves and others.”

Also lacking is an acknowledgement of Shinran’s deep existential awakening thanks to the working of the Vow in his life, which revealed to him the anguish caused by his own ignorance and disordered desires. We can see, then, that Shinran’s views are not informed just by the tradition’s doctrinal concepts, but by the virtues of the Vow coming alive in his heart. Furthermore, few have discerned that, for Shinran, hearing the Name and entrusting in the Vow are synonymous events. What we tend to observe in some of the views being considered is that little attention is given to the connection between “hearing the Name” and the arising of “the heart that entrusts itself to Amida.” Indeed, any profound appreciation of the Vow’s significance as the foundation of Shinshū spirituality is virtually absent.

Regrettably, none of the proposed models under discussion emphasize the necessity for each person to have a transformative encounter with Other-Power through the working of the Vow. To achieve our goal of establishing a robust Shinshū social ethic—not through “updating” the doctrine to suit modern sensibilities but by returning to the tradition’s foundational teachings—we will now consider Kiyozawa’s encouragement to read Shinran’s words directly (rather than through the lens of scholastic language and institutionally distorted doctrinal ideas). Only in this way can we surpass our worldly entanglements in the quest for not only identifying a Shinshū social ethic for our contemporary times, but also, more importantly, for the attainment of buddhahood.

Additionally, in line with Takagi’s stance, this paper’s position is that Shinshū ethics is not about coming up with a pre-determined mission statement that then becomes an artificial standard by which our behavior is judged and our salvation determined (as might be found in Western or other Eastern philosophical systems of thought). What we have in mind, instead, is something more organic—a natural way of living that does not deny our true karmic condition, while giving rise to a joyous response, in gratitude, to a “deep hearing” of the Dharma (Jp. monpō) that is sustained by the Vow and always available to us.

Thus, this proposal does not reflect a passive or indifferent resignation to life simply as we find it, something which Ama has observed among a number of Shinshū adherents. What, in fact, is being advocated is a constant discernment whereby we come to see the reality of our karmic constraints and afflictions (and those of others), while also recognizing where we have ethical agency to bring about better outcomes in society in light of a wisdom-centered vision of life, rather than an egocentric one. By engaging with others in this manner, one is spontaneously moved to participate in Amida’s great compassion, as stated by Tanaka. And, in concurrence with his conclusion, this path is one that nurtures an ethical vision that is both spiritually grounded and profoundly self-aware.

Moreover, it is not the aim of this paper to consider any specific social or political issues that happen to be currently topical, or what our attitude towards them ought to be. That is, it does not suggest prescriptive measures to remedy the immediate ills that plague the world but, instead, seeks to expound Shinran’s view on the real causes of human anguish and their remedy. More precisely, it aims to demonstrate how this teaching sees our lives in the light of a true, universal wisdom19, by suggesting a robust social ethic that is infused by the experience of entrusting in Amida’s Vow, coupled with a candid reflection on our spiritual infirmities while—at the same time—rejoicing in the transformative impact of taking refuge in that which is “true and real.”

Lastly, it should be noted that compassion in Buddhism is very far from a banal or quotidian kindness that is simply content with being “nice.” It is also more than just taking on, as our own, the momentary sadness or disappointment felt by others. On the contrary, it carries a nuanced sense of empathy (not just sympathy) in that we come to suffer with others, wishing that they be freed from all forms of tribulation.20 Promoting compassion in society is not, of course, unique to Shinshū as this virtue is also widely advocated in other schools of Buddhism (especially in the writings of well-known modern Buddhist authors such as the Dalai Lama and Thích Nhất Hạnh). However, what makes Shinran’s approach distinctive is that compassion is not prescribed as a calculated “good” act that produces virtue. Neither is it an act that conforms to any precepts, nor as a form of merit that is earned by the-self-as-bodhisattva. Rather, it is seen as a natural outgrowth of having encountered Truth–Reality,21 which is accompanied by a stark recognition of the deluded self. To the extent that one “virtuously” adopts a self-conscious posture of conventional kindness and fellow-feeling, Shinshū sees this as nothing but the product of human “calculation” (Jp. hakarai). Instead, true empathy arises in an unforced manner, despite one’s imperfections.

This understanding of compassion is not Shinshū’s only unique contribution. We currently live in a remarkable age in which technology is developing at an unprecedented rate. With the rapid advent of e-mail and social media, our means of communicating with others have reached a level of sophistication hitherto unimaginable to our forebears. While some had hoped that these advances would bring people closer together, we have also seen certain unintended consequences. Many take advantage of the anonymity afforded by social media to express vitriol with impunity, heedless of the impact their words have on others. This has led to a deterioration in human communication, fueled by indifference, narcissism, and an inevitable loss of empathy. This, in turn, is manifested in the growing dehumanization of our fellow human beings and the inability to feel authentic compassion.

Furthermore, one notices a reduced tolerance in considering views that differ from one’s own. Desperate attempts at preserving one’s identity, societal allegiances, and ideological adherence, have given rise to a lack of respect towards the “other,” sometimes extending to sheer enmity. In fact, some thinkers have even gone so far as to argue that the practice of empathy is altogether unnecessary, and that a case in its favor needs to be made.

We can see, then, that the kind of compassion taught by Shinshū is noticeably absent in not only academic debates22 but also in our society’s public discourse. The teachings of Shinran are not concerned with self-awareness and kindness as informed by purely personal motives, but as they pertain to the root cause of all human anguish, which, in Buddhism, is identified as ignorance of Truth–Reality. This deeper form of nescience includes a failure to discern one’s own inner reality, especially its darker aspects, which clearly has implications for how we treat others. In other words, one fails to see that a degradation in empathy directly contributes to an increase in suffering. Thus, an examination of how Shinshū can enrich our understanding of socio-ethical issues is important as it offers realistic and illuminating guidance for those who are trying to navigate life’s trials, while seeking to reduce the distress of others.

4. The Doctrinal Framework of Jōdo Shinshū

As previously stated, it is imperative that we place Shinran in the context of Buddhism as a whole, specifically that of Mahāyāna thought. However, as the core teachings of this tradition have already been the subject of extensive treatment elsewhere, this study will touch on just a few general doctrines that will serve to facilitate a better grasp of his perspective.

Shinran was just as concerned, as other Buddhist masters were, with how to escape the woeful round of birth-and-death (Skt. saṃsāra; literally, “wandering”), which sentient beings have been cycling through from an indeterminable beginning. He could clearly see that human anguish arose from a fundamental ignorance (Skt. avidyā) about the reality of our existence. Shinran was also acutely aware that the self-centered “poisons” of desire (Skt. rāga), aversion (Skt. dveṣa), and folly (Skt. moha) constantly nourish our endless cravings. More importantly, he believed that there was a way to alleviate this torment.23

As a Mahāyāna thinker, Shinran subscribed to the bodhisattva24 ideal of liberating all sentient beings along with oneself (Skt. svârtha-parârtha).25 Accordingly, his thought was in accordance with the three levels of compassion: small, medium, and great. Small compassion refers to, for example, the mitigation of poverty, homelessness, hunger, and sickness, in which one seeks to provide comfort to others by relieving their worldly ordeals. Great compassion, on the other hand, is to recognize that all sentient beings are immersed in a plight that is all-consuming, and not one just limited to material deprivation. It thus aims to bring about a permanent release from suffering—for all beings without exception—through a transformative encounter with the wisdom and compassion of Truth–Reality.26

In light of the Two Truths Doctrine mentioned earlier, Shinran regarded all conditioned phenomena in this world, including those derived through body, speech, and mind, to be wholly subjective and relative to one’s own self-interest. Thus, he called them “false and empty (Jp. koke).”27 By contrast, he used the phrase “true and real” to describe anything that pertains to Amida and the Pure Land (especially in their formless and inconceivable aspect as the Dharma-body).28

Shinran also accepted the importance of “non-retrogression” (Jp. futaiten; Skt. avaivartika). This refers to the irreversible point on the bodhisattva path in which a practitioner can not slide back to a previous level. Once this stage is reached, they are firmly settled on the path and their enlightenment is assured.29 Nāgārjuna (c. 150–250 CE), in chapter nine of his treatise Daśabhūmika Vibhāṣā (The Ten Bodhisattva Grounds), taught that weak and inferior people can attain this stage through reciting the names of various buddhas and keeping them in mind, including that of Amida. (Nāgārjuna 2019, pp. 183–88). This became a key feature of Shinran’s teaching.

So, while Shinran freely drew on important Buddhist doctrines and considered himself to be merely clarifying teachings that had been passed down to him from previous Pure Land masters, 30 he nevertheless produced compelling new insights that proved to be far-reaching in their impact on Buddhist thought. Three, in particular, merit some discussion: (1) Shinran’s emphasis on the Last Dharma Age in which we now find ourselves; (2) the practice of “Other-Power” nembutsu as the most appropriate (and universal) practice for this age; and (3) an emphasis on the heart of entrusting in Amida’s Vow as grounded in the working of Truth–Reality itself.

5. The Last Dharma Age (Mappō)

In Sino-Japanese schools of the Mahāyāna, it is taught that history can be divided into the True Dharma Age, the Semblance Dharma Age, and the Last Dharma Age (hereafter “the latter age”).31 Although there is no direct mention of a systematized teaching of these ages in the Pure Land sutras, Michele Marra notes that “[t]hese theories, well known to the Japanese of the medieval age, were the result of development and mixture of ideas brought by Buddhist scriptures from India and China.” (Marra 1988, p. 27). The latter age represents the period in which the understanding of Buddhist teachings has become gravely debased in light of there being no living buddha in the world to guide beings to Nirvāṇa. This era is also marked by people being incapable of effective Buddhist practice (in proportion to the period of time that has elapsed since the passing of Śākyamuni), which is a condition for attaining enlightenment in this life.32 Furthermore, it is an age marked by five kinds of defilement, such as people engaging in disputes and conflict as a result of ignorance and binding desires, thus making the world an unfavorable place for pursuing the Buddhist path (Jōdo Shinshū Hongwanji-ha 1997b, p. 286). Based on the judgment of preceding masters, and on his own observations of life, Shinran understood himself to be living in such an age of spiritual darkness. Because of this understanding, he had no doubt that entrusting in Amida’s Vow was the only effective path for people to attain, not only the stage of non-retrogression, but ultimately Nirvāṇa, in this final period when the Buddha’s teachings had become degraded, and the capabilities of people were diminished.

6. Other-Power Nembutsu

In general Buddhist thought, “practice” means to undertake wholesome acts that cultivate one’s merit with the intention of securing a favorable afterlife and, eventually, the ultimate goal of buddhahood.33 However, as noted above, those living in the latter age are no longer able to perform such practices. Shinran deemed them inappropriate because they were beyond the capacity of people (including monastic ascetics) as a means to ensure enlightenment. Owing to the influence of the renowned Pure Land Buddhist thinkers that preceded him, Shinran came to regard the nembutsu as the only suitable practice for people of the latter age.34 This was because the efficacy of such practice was not thanks to a practitioner’s cultivation, but to the Vows that were established and fulfilled by Amida Buddha (with the virtues thus gained being turned over to sentient beings). Hence, this great practice (“great” referring to the transcendent activity of Amida) was not considered a form of petitionary prayer, or a way for a practitioner to accumulate merit, but the means by which Amida Buddha reaches, through language, into our defiled world from a realm that is supra-mundane.35 He regarded Amida’s Name to be the embodiment of Truth–Reality, comprising all the merits needed to bring a person—especially one incapable of cultivating any virtue—to the Pure Land (considered by Shinran to be tantamount to Nirvāṇa). Because this is not a practice cultivated by sentient beings, seeing as it is initiated by the compassionate Vows of the Buddha, it is considered “the great practice of Other-Power.” As it does not arise from defiled minds, Shinran saw the power of the Vow as the only possible means of salvation for ordinary people of the latter age. In light of this, all sentient beings have become the “objects” of Amida’s practice, consistent with the ideal of “benefiting self and benefiting others,” which renders nugatory our own tainted efforts to attain deliverance from saṃsāra.

In Shinshū, then, the only real practice is to hear the Name; Not its recitation as a means to procure spiritual (or other) advantages. To invoke the Name is thus to respond, in gratitude, to having received the benefit of the Vow and the assurance of one’s eventual buddhahood. At a deeper level, however, Other-Power nembutsu is also the manifestation of Amida’s working in the heart of devotees. Accordingly, it is not a mindless rote utterance that leads to birth in the Pure Land. Rather, the devotee must take refuge, without any doubt, in Amida’s aspiration to liberate beings through the Name.36 This entrusting is called shinjin (“true and real” heart and mind).

7. Entrusting in Amida’s Vow

Having faith or confidence (Skt. śrāddha) in the Buddha’s teachings has always featured prominently in the history of Buddhism.37 Generally, the relationship is such that one hears what was taught by the Buddha and then entrusts in it, which leads to the required method for attaining enlightenment. (Park 1983, p. 55). Just as Shinran adopted a radical perspective on the nature of practice, he did the same with respect to entrusting, which, as he saw it, is naturally evoked in us when we realize that we are the object of Amida’s working.

Entrusting in Amida’s Vow is not to have blind faith in a remote, omnipotent deity that needs to be supplicated by worldly prayers. Shinran’s understanding is that this attitude is not willed or calculated but, rather, elicited through one’s encounter with Amida’s wisdom and compassion, specifically through “hearing” the Name, which is a form of spiritual discernment that fully grasps the purpose and efficacy of the Vow. He further taught that seeking haven in this reality leads to a penetrating self-awareness that can only be given by Amida. In taking wholehearted refuge in the Buddha’s resolve to save all beings, devotees are urged to confront the entrenched spiritual ailments that give rise to their suffering. This spiritual awakening is open to all without exception because, again, the Buddha is considered the subject of true practice, and all sentient beings the object of the Vow’s salvific activity.

For Shinran, this purely Other-Power perspective is, arguably, the culmination of Mahāyāna Buddhism’s spiritual logic, not to mention the only way for ordinary people in this latter age to attain complete liberation from the painful cycle of birth-and-death. In this sense, Shinran’s vision also represents the final consummation of the Buddha’s teaching with respect to supreme compassion for all beings. These striking features of his thought must be kept in mind as we examine the process of honest self-reflection that leads to an awakening of authentic empathy for others.

8. Shinran’s Model of Entrusting and Deep Reflection

As indicated, for Shinran, to hear the Name is a form of spiritual discernment. Furthermore, to hear the Name and entrust in the Vow are synonymous. In the third chapter of Kyō Gyō Shin Shō, he states that to hear Amida’s Name “… means that the multitudes of beings hear why the Buddha’s Vow was established and how it was fulfilled, and do not have doubting hearts [concerning it]. This is what it means ‘to hear.’” (Chūshaku-ban, 251).38 In other words, it is to grasp the soteriological intent of Amida Buddha. More specifically, it is to fathom why the Vow was necessary in the first place and how Amida came to embody the qualities of wisdom and compassion of Truth–Reality (Jp. shōki honmatsu). To better understand the fuller context of Shinran’s teaching in this regard, we must now turn to the sacred story that is related in The Larger Sutra.

9. The Sacred Story

The Larger Sutra is divided into two fascicles. The first explains the genesis of Amida Buddha’s forty-eight Vows, while the second contains a passage on the fulfillment of the eighteenth Vow in particular, and explains the defiled actions of unenlightened people that create suffering for themselves and others.

The first fascicle related that there was once a king who encountered a buddha by the name of Lokeśvararāja. This inspired the king to become a bodhisattva, taking the name Dharmākara, and establish Vows in order to become a buddha himself. Dharmākara saw that there were innumerable beings who were burdened by ignorance and fear. He also understood that this suffering was not limited to just one lifetime, but could continue into the future interminably. Thus, he was concerned that nescient beings could not reach Nirvāṇa by means of their own strength.

Understanding this heightened Dharmākara’s resolve to undertake the vast responsibility of emancipating all beings by first becoming a buddha himself. Emboldened by this compassionate aspiration, he contemplated—over innumerable lifetimes—which bodhisattva practices were necessary in order to accomplish his goal. After five eons (Skt. kalpa39) of ascetic endeavors, Dharmākara fulfilled his great Vows and became a buddha by the name of Amida40, the essence of whom is Immeasurable Light (Wisdom) and Life (Compassion). The eighteenth of these promised that anyone who sincerely entrusted in the Vow’s pledge to save all beings from suffering (embodied in the Name, Namo Amidabutsu), were assured of reaching the stage of non-retrogression, followed by birth in this buddha’s pure realm of utmost bliss (and the subsequent attainment of Nirvāṇa without fail). Having then become buddhas themselves, they will also be dedicated to the task of saving those who remain stranded in saṃsāra.41

In the wake of Amida’s enlightenment, the second fascicle states that all other buddhas in the ten directions are now praising that Buddha’s Name.42 Additionally, when sentient beings learn of these praises, they are filled with joy and thus assured of birth in Amida’s land, where they will “dwell in the stage of non-retrogression.”43 This is followed by Śākyamuni’s admonition of unenlightened beings who are immersed in ignorance and craving, urging them to take refuge in his teaching. A brief list is then given of the kinds of unwholesome behaviors that afflict ordinary people; for example, doing whatever it takes to secure one’s own advantage, such as deceiving and exploiting others (including loved ones); injuring the weak which, in turn, leads them to harm others; engaging in flattery or being disloyal; being arrogant and without shame; and lacking moderation with respect to our sensual appetites.

The sutra closes with Śākyamuni declaring that it is a rare occurrence for one to be born in a human form. Even when this has been achieved, it is still difficult to hear the Dharma. Out of pity and concern for all beings, this sutra was to be imparted to them so that they may be helped to reach Nirvāṇa after his passing. Nevertheless, concerning this teaching, “…the most difficult of all difficulties is to hear it and accept it with an entrusting heart: nothing surpasses this difficulty.” (Three Pure Land Sutras, p. 102).

10. Shinran’s Personal Transformation

In order for us to appreciate how hearing the sacred story might benefit modern audiences, we must understand its impact on Shinran, particularly his relationship with the Buddha. This is explained further in the following passage, where he cites the Chinese master Shantao (613–681 CE):

The first [aspect of deep entrusting] is to conclusively, deeply believe that one is currently an unenlightened, ordinary being in the [realm of] birth-and-death [who commits] transgressions and evils, and who has been drowning for innumerable kalpa, continuously cycling through saṃsāra, without any conditions present to permit liberation [from these circumstances].

The second [aspect of deep entrusting] is to conclusively and deeply entrust in Amida Buddha’s Forty-Eight Vows which, in taking in the multitudes of beings, allows them to ride on the vessel of [Amida’s] Vow-Power without doubt and fear, so that they may assuredly attain birth in the Pure Land.

(Chūshaku-ban, pp. 217–28).

This passage reflects Shinran’s more profound understanding of what it means to entrust in the Vow. That is, one completely accepts, without any doubt or hesitation, the condition of being an ordinary being who has been engaged in countless transgressions since time immemorial. Entrusting means accepting that Dharmākara perfected his virtues so as to envelop all beings, without exception. Shinran became convinced that there is a way out of saṃsāra, which is provided by Amida Buddha.44

Shinran’s personal testimony reveals that the sobering truths regarding the human condition, as revealed by the Buddha, did not just apply to those around him but, first and foremost, to himself.45 Thus, he was struck by the overwhelming impression that, without a doubt, the Vow was intended for Shinran alone.46 This powerful epiphany confirmed that he was, indeed, completely embraced by the Vow, while fully remaining an unregenerate person.47 Thanks to this awareness, he was able to abandon spiritual hypocrisy, thus accepting who he was in all his limitations. That is, he could live authentically without pretending to be someone other than a foolish, ordinary being. Shinran believed this so deeply that he named himself Gutoku, which means “stubble-headed, foolish person.”48 Without having to deny his unenlightened nature, he was made to reach a level of joy and solace that remained unshaken, despite being mired in the three poisons.

Firmly ensconced in the compassion of Amida, Shinran’s sense of self-worth no longer depended on the fickle views of others (which he considered to have stemmed from a world of falsity, along with his own opinions). Towards the end of Kyō Gyō Shin Shō, he wrote the following: “I think only of the Buddha’s deep benevolence, and do not concern myself with people’s abuse.” (Kyōgyōshinshō, p. 338). This acceptance of himself allowed Shinran to view human relationships in a different light. Consequently, he was able to accept, without condemnation, the vices and frailties of others who also had to endure the ravages of ignorance. For that very reason, they were equally objects of the Vow. Being illuminated by the wisdom that awakened him to the truth of the falsity of this world and the human tendency to criticize others through distorted viewpoints, Shinran did not judge the value of a person based on their conduct, abilities, social status, or personal opinions. He never admonished anyone for earning a livelihood that society did not approve of. Furthermore, he could see that both the most heinous action and the slightest misdeed were symptoms of one and the same disease. He refrained from judging others’ actions because he grasped that karmic conditions could change, leading anyone to commit an act they never thought capable of doing.49 So, rather than trying to change what he could not control—whether it was himself, other people, or the nature of society—Shinran simply wished for all beings to find spiritual relief from the inferno of saṃsāra, in the shelter of Amida’s Vow.50 As such, he never wished harm or sought retribution against others who had wronged him. He understood that we are all shackled by fear and anxiety, just as he was. Thus, Shinran did not just say the nembutsu for himself, but for the benefit of all beings so that their hearts could be filled with the Buddha’s presence through hearing the Name.51

11. Encountering the Heart of the Vow—A Reflection for Our Times

We must now turn our attention to how Shinran’s spiritual vision remains relevant to modern seekers, just as much as it was to the people of medieval Japan. At first glance, his own path may seem removed from the concerns of our everyday lives. However, the parallels between the conditions of Shinran’s time and ours—both situated in the latter age—are quite striking. With that fact in mind, we may proceed by first asking: What does this story have to do with me? How can it improve my life?

When hearing that human dissatisfaction arises from ignorance and fear, people might react by saying: This does not apply to me. I am certainly not ignorant and my life is far from fearful. If one adopts conventional definitions of “ignorance” and “fear,” such a response may well be understandable. However, when considered in the larger context of Buddhism, we are reminded that ignorance does not refer to being unacquainted with certain worldly facts but, rather, to not comprehending the universal laws of reality, including the human condition as it truly is. Similarly, fear is not just a response to alarming situations or to a particular phobia, but more broadly refers to the trepidation of losing the things we most cherish, especially one’s own life.

Accordingly, one can re-formulate these queries in a more straightforward manner as follows: Do I ever feel anxious about losing the things I most value? Have I ever felt disappointed in life because my needs were not met? Have I ever been upset and blamed others when something has not gone right in my life? Have I ever experienced immense grief due to the loss of a loved one while refusing to face up to the truth of impermanence? Am I frightened to confront the forbidding realities of old age, sickness, and death?

If we can answer such questions with complete honesty, then the reason why the Vow was established becomes much clearer, especially on a personal level. That is, one must come to grips with the inescapable truth that it is I who am suffering from ignorance and cravings, and that, because of these ailments, I am the one who needs to be awakened by the Buddha.

Because Amida as Truth–Reality is timelessly perfect wisdom and compassion that is unhindered in its working, it can be relied on without hesitation in any situation. However, this realization includes the certainty that Amida’s activity was undertaken for the express purpose of reaching out to me. By stressing the connection between myself and Amida, the sacred story cannot be seen as just irrelevant religious folklore from the long past, but a skillful strategy of transcendent reality itself breaking into our mundane world to reveal the naked reality of one’s distressing human condition. Only then can it become an authentic teaching that brings alive the “true and real” into our darkened hearts.

When the entrusting heart is thus evoked, and an abiding joy emerges in response to receiving the Buddha-Dharma, we may finally come to see ourselves for who we really are. Only then can we surrender to Other-Power naturally and without resistance.

12. Understanding and Accepting Oneself

Considered in isolation, these reflections on the somber state of life in the world give the impression that we are hopelessly mired in a very sad state of affairs. However, the truth about our existence in this “burning house” (as Śākyamuni Buddha described our realm of birth-and-death)52 is but the beginning of resolving this crisis, which also requires awakening to the reality of Nirvāṇa and its active dimension as the endowed wisdom-mind of nembutsu and entrusting.

Just as Shinran did, we can see the evils described in the sutra—and in the description of the latter age—as reflecting the travails in our own lives. One may then be moved to acknowledge (as he did) that the Vow was raised for oneself alone. When we find ourselves immersed in the illuminating riches of the sacred story, rather than simply being an uncommitted onlooker, our lives are given a firm anchor that relieves despair by pointing to a deeper well-being that cannot be taken from us by the vicissitudes of samsāric life. No matter what difficulties we are undergoing, saying the nembutsu reminds us that: I am experiencing negative emotions because of my ignorance, and that the resultant three poisons prompt me to wish that life should always go the way that I want. Because I’m like this, Amida is always making Wisdom and Compassion available to me just as I am. I don’t need to perfect myself in order to listen to these teachings. Just by coming to see the stark reality of my earthly plight, with all its perils, I realize that I am ultimately fine at a level of my being that cannot be shaken or disturbed by reckless desires.

Moreover, becoming aware of how the three poisons permeate our troubled lives, we can start to question whether others (or the world generally) can be held truly responsible for our happiness. This prevents us from having to blame others for our own problems and misfortunes. Furthermore, people can then be valued for who they are, rather than for what we want them to be. Each person has their own karmic trajectory, so there is no need to compare ourselves to them, for this can only lead to envy and discontent. Seeing as everyone is ailing from the same condition, there is no justification for being self-righteous, arrogantly finding fault in others while bereft of self-awareness. Needless to say, being on the receiving end of harmful actions—whether in body, speech, or mind—can still be distressing. However, one now has a foundation of unbreakable wisdom that helps us to pause and reflect, so that we are not precipitate in rushing to self-hatred or retaliation. We can then learn to take into account the anguish of those who wish to harm us by understanding their troubled condition with empathy and concern. In doing so, we stop perpetuating the cycle of suffering by making the conscious decision not to respond with resentment and hostility.53

When faced with adversity brought on by calamities beyond our control, one may recall that such events are not forms of divine retribution, but merely the unfolding of natural laws and karmic conditions. One is also reminded, in light of the nembutsu and the wisdom it confers, that our health, possessions or worldly success do not determine self-worth. This is the key to finding resilience and fortitude in the face of seemingly hopeless situations. Furthermore, knowing that one is assured of reaching Nirvāṇa without severing afflictions (as taught in Shinshū) provides a firm footing on which to navigate the uncertainties of life with courage and confidence. We can see, then, how one’s response to life’s tribulations can be radically transformed through transcendental insights conferred by the working of the Vow. This is a form of higher wisdom that cannot be generated by beings who are “lost in the great night of ignorance,” as Shinran describes us to be.54

A solid grounding in Amida’s wisdom also makes us realize that our own judgments are regularly impaired and that our opinions invariably fail to conform to what is “true and real.” Personal values are then seen as reflecting an ingrained self-centeredness (including the interests of one’s family, nation, ideology, or other group allegiances). Seeing that one’s thoughts and feelings can be capricious and unreliable, one begins to recognize them as such and to reject them accordingly. This may include any societal laws, rules, and convictions that one may have formerly considered to be objectively correct,55 coupled with further reflections as to why we feel compelled to always be “right” in our views (often aggressively so).

On realizing that our impressions are distorted, we give rise to a humility that allows the beliefs of others to be considered with courtesy and respect. Obviously, this is not to suggest that one must always agree with what others think but, rather, to remain open to hearing perspectives that may not have previously been considered.56 When such an attitude starts to settle over time, a far-reaching transformation takes place whereby one becomes “soft and gentle in body and mind,” to quote the thirty-third Vow of Amida Buddha. (Three Pure Land Sutras, p. 26).

As mentioned previously, that it is exceedingly rare to receive a human form in the course of transmigration is an important Buddhist teaching. Knowing this, one is moved to remember that my life is unique and I ought to take care of it; I should value my own existence just as Amida cherishes each life as inherently precious, regarding every being as a future buddha. There is no need for self-contempt (as the Buddha denounced all forms of hatred, including against oneself), because one remains aware of the Vow’s embrace, just as they are.

In light of the above considerations, one may be moved to reflect on the following questions: How do I treat others who are also embraced by Amida’s Vow? Is my attitude toward people determined by my three poisons, or by how Amida Buddha sees them? These lines of inquiry will help us address the issue of social ethics, with a view to creating better conditions in our world—ones rooted in empathy instead of rancor.

13. Being Moved Towards Respect and Empathy for Others

Being made to see life through the lens of Truth–Reality, we begin to better understand the situation of others, for whom we may then develop an instinctively selfless concern. Not only that, but when shinjin arises in us, we start to see ourselves in them, and them in us.57 While we may struggle with dissatisfaction in our everyday lives, this does not make us oblivious to the plight of our fellow human beings. Everyone is subject to unpredictable karma, and we are no exception. This realization should prompt the following query: If I had that person’s upbringing, or were confronted with their life circumstances, wouldn’t I be just like them? By appreciating others in this way, our natural inclination to exhibit antagonism in situations where there is conflict or disagreement is curtailed. We begin to see that we are all sick with the three poisons, trying to get by in a precarious world under challenging conditions.

Of course, due to our innate limitations as ordinary human beings, it is unavoidable that we will clash with others now and again. When this happens, it is not uncommon for us to wish that our adversaries change their attitude to suit our own preferences. However, when we are reminded that Amida Buddha does not expect anyone to be anything other than what they are, we may be able to extend the same attitude towards others with less resistance. We can then embrace each person’s unique circumstances and differences while still considering them equally valuable. Just as my sense of worth is no longer subject to the ever-changing views of society, neither is that of anyone else.

That said, it goes without saying that it is easier to respect people whom one admires or is fond of, but it is much more difficult to extend a compassionate gaze towards those who hurt us or do not share our values. Nevertheless, to appreciate the fact that even those who cause us grief are within the grasp of Amida’s Light and Life goes a long way towards ameliorating the resentment and cold indifference we usually feel towards our opponents.

Further to this, we are able to adopt a shared responsibility to assist those in immediate need or who have endured calamity. When such support is given, not with an expectation of any recognition (which may only boost our vanity), but solely out of joy in sharing the virtues of the Buddha-Dharma, we are reminded that no one’s life is in vain.

This renewed vision makes us see ourselves wedded to an intricate tapestry of an immeasurable life in which all beings are linked in inconceivable ways.58 Just as we are captive to our own karmic constraints, so is everyone else. In consequence, an empathy develops whereby the rigid lines that separate myself from others slowly become erased. Accordingly, we feel less inclined to compare ourselves to them in a competitive manner because, at a deeper level beyond our respective egos, we are grounded in the same reality, such that to cause injury to another is to wound ourselves.

14. Concluding Remarks

While we may be living eight hundred years after Shinran, his teaching can still be of great relevance today in promoting a compassionate understanding of our deeply divided humanity. From the vantage point of contemporary society, it may be difficult to see any parallels with Shinran’s medieval Japan. For instance, we are immersed in a world of technology that he could not have even conceived, and forms of governance have changed from kingdoms, empires, and fiefdoms to various forms of liberal democracy. The contrasts are endless. However, disasters that have always plagued humanity—earthquakes, fires, wars, disease, and poverty—continue unabated, and people are still consumed by self-centered desires, aversions, and folly; Problems that stem from humanity’s fundamental ignorance of how things really are continue to arise without end. As long as this darkness of heart and mind remains unresolved, we will continue to experience dissatisfaction and feel as though we have lost control of our lives. For Shinran, the most effective way to face this predicament is for one to wholeheartedly entrust in the Vow of Amida Buddha. This has been a time-tested method of spiritual engagement that has brought relief and joy to millions of people over many centuries.

To identify the root cause of our perilous situation is not to shame or punish anyone, but to make us aware of why we are really suffering so that people can begin seeing their lives in a new light, just as Śākyamuni Buddha did during his own journey to awakening over two thousand five hundred years ago. Of course, as long as one remains an unenlightened being in a precarious human body, one’s fundamental ignorance (and one’s attendant emotional afflictions) can never be entirely eradicated. Shinran clearly saw this reality in himself, which is what drove his need for ruthless self-examination in light of the wisdom he had received from Amida.

We, too, can benefit from this approach today by not seeking everlasting happiness where it cannot possibly be found. For example, we ought to reduce our reliance on ephemeral phenomena such as social media, and the sense of self-worth many seek to derive from it (through comments, “hits,” and “likes”). One can certainly enjoy the convenience of technology for what it is—namely, a resource for promoting knowledge, enhancing communication, and improving transportation—but not as a means for securing transcendent sustenance. Neither do we need to rely on various institutions or political parties to provide a resolution to our dissatisfaction with life, which is ultimately caused by our spiritual ignorance. Other problems such as bullying (online and otherwise, including prejudicial treatment of marginalized people), road rage, disenchantment, and destructive addictions are also examples of acute manifestations of the three poisons that may prove amenable to the spiritual treatment prescribed by the Shinshū teachings, regardless of what conditions we may find ourselves living in our personal lives.

Compassion, in the teachings of Shinran, is firmly grounded in the wisdom of Amida Buddha. When we realize what is being bestowed on us, we are spontaneously moved to engage in an ongoing examination of the self, which never ceases throughout the course of one’s life. To recite the nembutsu is to recall (nen) the virtues of Amida (butsu), which allow us to comprehend both the verities of the human condition and the solution to its vexing difficulties.

Thus, it can be been seen how Shinran’s unique approach of honest personal scrutiny—by means of entrusting in Amida as wisdom and compassion—sets us on a path towards the emancipating reality of Nirvāṇa that awaits us at the time of death, while living a life rooted in compassionate empathy here and now.

So, while Shinran’s apprehension of the Vow may appear unique compared to that of previous Pure Land masters, this phenomenon should be considered in the light of a sage who underwent a far-reaching transformation as evidenced by his compelling spiritual testimony (which spawned a legacy that reverberates powerfully to this day).

A challenging feature of Shinshū social ethics is, as Takagi noted, the absence of any traditional precepts or moral prescriptions. Shinran never insisted on any form of mandatory behaviors, such as what one finds in other Buddhist traditions or Abrahamic religions. Perhaps this is because such demands were not only impossible for Shinran to fulfill, but also because he was loath to insist on any practice he himself could not successfully undertake.59 However, this need not be considered a limitation in his outlook. Turning our attention back to Amida’s great compassion, we are reminded that this reality completely fathoms the abyssal depths of the human condition, which it sees as utterly lost, hopeless, and incapable of saving itself. Any judgment from the side of ultimate reality is completely absent, which is conveyed to us as an awareness of unconditional embrace, as opposed to a feeling of shame or guilt based on being rejected for “falling short” of a divine standard of conduct.60 This being so, there is no reason, then, for one person to condemn another under the same circumstances. This is what Shinran was able to avoid in his relationships with fellow community members. He assumed the role of informal teacher, correcting others when they espoused erroneous views of the teaching—as he understood them based on the guidance of his master Hōnen and the traditional scriptures—but he never denigrated others for their karmic transgressions. He only encouraged whole-hearted refuge in Amida’s Vow, which proved utterly transformational for him and his followers. This approach provided an inspiring spiritual life path that encouraged self-reflection among Shinran’s “fellow companions” (Jp. on-dōbō) and “fellow practitioners” (Jp. on-dōgyō). Even if people did not follow the nembutsu teaching, Shinran did not admonish or give up on them. He famously wrote in one of his letters:

“When all is said and done, [saying nembutsu] is not limited to oneself. It would be joyous if people who say nembutsu did so together without thinking only of their own benefit, [but to also] do so for the benefit of the imperial court and for the benefit of the country. Those who feel uncertain of their birth in the Pure Land should say the nembutsu to settle that matter first. Those who feel that their own birth is completely settled should hold the nembutsu in their hearts, mindful of the Buddha’s benevolence, and say [the Name] with gratitude for that benevolence, along with the wish, ‘May there be peace in the world, and may the Buddha-Dharma spread!’ Please consider this carefully.”

(Chūshaku-ban, p. 784).

In conclusion, this paper argues that an ideal Shinshū social ethic can be found in none other than its core teaching of entrusting in Amida’s Vow and reciting the Name of this Buddha. It has been shown that the conditions of the world during Shinran’s time were not wholly dissimilar to our own. A promising aspect of this approach is that the spiritual benefits of taking refuge in the Vow are not simply limited to compassion towards others, but they can be relevant to confronting various chronic human problems because all social ills stem from our ignorance and cravings, which can only be vanquished by wholeheartedly receiving the Buddha-Dharma into our hearts and minds, precisely as Shinshū has always taught. Thus, the virtues of Amida Buddha, as given to all sentient beings, can provide compelling ethical guidance in our troubled times by promoting a healthier engagement with society. The emotional wounds of a world that is desperately in need of benevolence and generosity may, indeed, be healed by the illuminating warmth of a boundless and all-embracing Light and Life that permeates the heart of all things.