For leisure I’m currently reading on ancient Chinese religion and philosophy that developed during the Warring States period (roughly the just a few centuries leading up to the birth of Christ). This is the period in which Confucianism an Taoism (two of the most influential Chinese religions of all time) emerged.
My reading has focused on the preeminent concepts of wu–wei and de (pronounced “duh”). Wu–wei is literally translated “non-action” and is the essentially the state of being in the “flow”, or being in the state of complete harmony of mind (both conscious and sub-conscious), body, spirit, and nature (being “one with the universe”). The idea behind wu-wei is for one to be in state in which all actions are completely effortless and natural. The closest thing we have in English to this is probably “spontaneity”.
Wiki adds this, “beings that are wholly in harmony with the Tao [in wu–wei] behave in a completely natural, uncontrived way.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wu_wei)
It sounds elusive because it is elusive.
So where does de come in? Well, when one enters wu–wei they emanate de. De (also Te, or Teh) is literally translated “virtue” or “power”.
According to the Chinese ancients, entering into wu–wei and thereby emanating de is the key to success on all dimensions of life, especially social dimensions. If one wishes to navigate social situations well, they must enter into wu–wei. If you want people to like you, wu–wei. If you want to be a person of influence and power, wu–wei.
Another dimension to this that I find quite fascinating is that entering into wu–wei is the equivalent of embodying Heaven, but not Heaven as a place, rather Heaven as an idea. Heaven, within this thought paradigm, is also known to be conceptualized a person that is, for lack of a better term, God.
As I’ve been reading, I’m trying to contextualize these thoughts within a Christian framework. Before the “attack” ;), let me say that I admittedly find some of these concepts helpful, especially for helping to manage stress, calm the mind, and situate rest in my own mind as something productive.
After all, who doesn’t want to find the perfect balance between striving and resting, who doesn’t want to manage the heavy gravitational pull of the daunting sub-conscious, especially for those of us in a hyper-active, media-charged, industrialist, and ultimately annoyingly stressful culture? Who doesn’t like the idea of sitting peacefully by a calm stream, eyes closed, letting the sub-conscious process freely so as to defragment the highly fragmented American mind? I mean if “entering wu–wei” means having a nice, quiet cup of coffee while watching the sun rise and pruning lemon trees in the afternoon, I’m in!
I do, however, have two major issues that I take up with wu-wei (and the conceptual paradigm at large that characterizes ancient Chinese religion). The first is that wu-wei or entering the Tao (“entering the way”) is something very impersonal, it is a force, an impulse, an impersonal rhythm. To be frank, as a person, it seem much more intuitive and natural that God is a personal creator, not a force, power, or impulse.
This is not to invalidate the reality of impulses and the seemingly impersonal tugs that are part of the eb and flow of being human. However, I believe these to be subordinate to the essence of what it is to be human—personhood. Taoism, Confucianism (and the countless other religions that find their origins within the conceptual framework of these systems of thought, including zen Buddhism and others) all deify the impersonal nudges of the universe.
For me, at least, the climax, the ultimate expression of humanness, what it is to be human, is something deeply personal. This, I believe, is why love is the most powerful force of all—because it is deeply personal.
The second issue that I take up with ancient Chinese religion is the fact that when you remove personhood, you also remove a sense of philadelphia. What I mean is that Jesus, representing the epitome of humanness in the Christian tradition, spent his life poured out for the well-being of others because of love. Confucius, while an incredible thinker whose influence on culture today is incalculable, did not live for others, I’m afraid. The effortless effort of his life was to reach something for himself.
Hear Confucius’ words:
“At fifteen I set my mind upon learning; at thirty, I took my place in society, at forty I became free of doubts, at fifty I understood Heaven’s Mandate; at sixty my ear was attuned; and at seventy I could follow my heart’s desires without transgressing the bounds of propriety.” (Slingerland, Edward (2014-03-04). Trying Not to Try: The Art and Science of Spontaneity (p. 24). Crown Publishing Group. Kindle Edition)
Doesn’t any one else see the problem here? Confucius is equating success with following the heart’s desires without “transgressing the bounds of propriety.”
Jesus, on the other hand, was never after fulfilling the desires of his own heart. Jesus’ life was fixed solely on suffering and death so that others may live.
Perhaps its a but reductionistic to put it this way, but it just seems selfish. In Christianity, on the other hand, it’s all about selflessness, dying for the other, entering into suffering with the other, taking on the wounds of those around us so they they may find consolation and life through personal relationship.
In short, Christ is missional, and there is no mission with an impersonal force.
Granted, ancient Chinese religion does have something good to offer us today, there is no arguing this. We just have to eat the meat and spit out the bones.
In the end, do a Google image search of Confucius. Then a Google image search of Lao Tzu. Then, do a Google image search of Buddha. Notice that they are all depicted as happy, contemplative philosophers who are simply “in the zone, baby!” This is intended to epitomize their world-views, work, and contribution to humanity.
Now, Google image search Jesus. The image that best epitomizes Jesus work and contribution is his bleeding, beaten, and dead body on a Cross.
