In the fall of 2020, Father Richard Rohr began writing occasional letters that he called “Letters from Outside the Camp,” referring to the many usages of “outside the camp” in the Hebrew Bible. Richard suggests that such a position can support those who want to move beyond the contemporary political and religious “encampments” of our day.
We know full well that we must now avoid the temptation to become our own defended camp. We want to inhabit that ever-prophetic position “on the edge of the inside,” described by the early Israelites as “the tent of meeting outside the camp” (Exodus 33:7). Even though this tent is portable, it’s still a meeting place for “the holy,” which is always on the move and out in front of us.
In our ugly and injurious present political climate, it’s become all too easy to justify fear-filled and hateful thoughts, words, and actions, often in defense against the “other” side. We project our anxiety elsewhere and misdiagnose the real problem (the real evil), exchanging it for smaller and seemingly more manageable problems. The over-defended ego always sees, hates, and attacks in other people its own faults—the parts of ourselves that we struggle to acknowledge. Of course, we don’t want to give way on important moral issues, but this often means we also don’t want to give way on our need to be right, superior, and in control. Our deep attachment to this defended and smaller self leads us into our greatest illusions. Most of us do not see things as they are; we see things as we are.
Richard considers the wisdom that the Buddhist Heart Sutra can teach us:
The Heart Sutra (sometimes called The Heart of the Perfection of Wisdom) is considered by many to be the most succinct and profound summary of Buddhist teaching—surely it must have something to say to all of us. It ends with a mantra that is a daring proclamation of the final truth that takes our whole life to uncover and experience. It is enlightenment itself and hope itself in verbal form. It’s the ultimate liberation into Reality.
Here is the transliteration and pronunciation of the Sanskrit refrain:
Gate, gate, pāragate, pārasaṃgate, bodhi svāhā!
Ga-tay, ga-tay, para ga-tay, parasam ga-tay boh-dee svah-ha!
It means:
Gone, gone, gone all the way over, the entire community of beings has gone to the other shore, enlightenment—praise! So be it! [1]
This isn’t meant to be a morbid or tragic statement, but a joyous proclamation, in its own way similar to Christians saying “Alleluia!” at Easter. It is liberation from our grief, our losses, our sadness, and our attachments—our manufactured self. It accepts the transitory and passing nature of all things without exception, not as a sadness, but as a movement to “the other shore.” We don’t know exactly what the other shore is like, but we know it is another shore from where we now stand and not a scary abyss.
References:
[1] See Thich Nhat Hạnh, The Other Shore: A New Translation of the Heart Sutra with Commentaries (Parallax Press, 2017), 115–116, 127.
Adapted from Richard Rohr, Letters from Outside the Camp, November 2, 2020. Unavailable.
Image credit and inspiration: Kryuchka Yaroslav, Untitled (detail), photo, USA, Adobe Stock. Click here to enlarge image. Things will break, and we are invited, when ready, to put the pieces back together again.
Story from Our Community:
I grew up in exile from my mother country and lived around the world during my childhood. Despite a strong family unit, there was very little predictability in our lives, and to get through, I developed an inner stance of letting go. Now in my 60s, I have become aware that predictability is a myth that trains our minds to hold on to things, people, and life itself. In this stage of life, I’m practicing letting go again to all of life’s expectations. I’m finding this process allows me to welcome life itself, as it really is, finding greater appreciation for every minute, connection, and opportunity to see God’s love in all things.
—Teresita L.
