The junzi possessed equanimity: “In his attitude toward the world the gentleman has no antagonisms and no favouritisms. What is right he sides with.”[18] Like the Buddhist arahant or Hindu jivanmukta, the gentleman did not allow external circumstances to dictate his disposition: “The Master said: A man of quality indeed was Hui! He lived in a squalid alley with a tiny bowlful of rice to eat and a ladleful of water to drink. Other[s] . . . would not have endured such hardships, but Hui did not let his happiness be affected. A man of quality indeed was Hui!”[19] The quality of equanimity pertained also to the opinions of others. In the very first passage of the Analects, Confucius defines this quality according to his usual high standards: “not to be resentful at others’ failure to appreciate one—surely that is to be a true gentleman.”[20] Later in the same section, he further emphasizes this trait, taking it almost to the level of “saintliness”: “One does not worry about the fact that other people do not appreciate one. One worries about not appreciating other people.”[21] With such an attitude, is there any wonder that Confucius characterized the gentleman as “calm and peaceful”?[22]
* * *
Analects 7.1, trans. Dawson, 24. ↵
The Analects report this incident: “When the stables caught fire the Master, on returning from court, said, ‘Did anyone get hurt?’ He did not ask about the horses” (Analects, 10.11, my rendition). The anecdote suggests his relative disinterest in the welfare of animals and in money—horses were far more expensive than stable hands—and his primary concern with human beings.↵
Analects 7.21, my rendition.↵
Analects 11.12, my rendition.↵
Analects 4.2, trans. Dawson, 13.↵
Analects 7.23.↵
Analects 7.26, trans. Lau, (London: Penguin, 1979), 89.↵
Analects 12.2; 15.24, trans. Lau, 112, 135.↵
Analects 6.30, trans. Dawson, 23.↵
The Dhammapada offers this reflection on the practice: “All tremble before violence. All fear death. Having done the same yourself, You should neither harm nor kill. All tremble before violence. Life is held dear by all. Having done the same yourself, You should neither harm nor kill.” Dhammapada: Verses on the Way, 10.1, trans. Glenn Wallis (New York: The Modern Library, 2007), 29. ↵
Paul Tillich, The Shaking of the Foundations, (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1976), 157. Tillich attributes this saying to Immanuel Kant, but I have not been able to verify that claim. Others attribute it to Francois De La Rochefoucauld.↵
Analects 12.22, trans. Dawson, 47.↵
Analects 1.2, trans. Dawson, 3.↵
Analects 8.7, trans. Lau, 93.↵
Analects 14.38, trans. Lau, 130.↵
Analects 2.17, my rendition.↵
Analects 2.12, trans. Dawson, 7.↵
Analects 4.10, trans. Dawson, 14.↵
Analects 6.11, trans. Dawson, 21.↵
Analects 1.1, trans. Dawson, 3.↵
Analects 1.16, my rendition.↵
Analects 7.37, trans. Dawson, 27.↵
19
The Cultivation of Virtue
Confucius’s answer to the social and political disorder of his day was to cultivate persons of virtue. He understood that the problems facing his society were too profound to be resolved by mere legislation or decree and the extensive policing of the populace. In his view, the evils confronting China were rooted in spiritual defilements: greed, hatred, the love of power, self-centeredness, and callousness toward human life. These dispositions were not aspects of life that could be controlled by the police. Speaking of racism in the United States, Martin Luther King, Jr. once said, “The ultimate solution to the race problem lies in the willingness of men to obey the unenforceable.”[1] What King observed about the defilement of racism coheres exactly with Confucius’s view of the deep-rooted problems of his China. The only answer to such a situation is to convince others to obey the unenforceable. Confucius sought to do this by the way of virtue.
We have already examined how the virtues that Confucius considered most important would be embodied in the ideal individual he called the gentleman. What remains to be discussed is how Confucius thought these virtues could be instilled and refined and how the virtuous individual could promote greater harmony within and among societies.
Moral Self-Cultivation
Like the Buddha, Confucius believed that kindness and compassion are qualities that require cultivation. Both sages were convinced that discipline was the key to realizing and perfecting these qualities. They each proposed different methods for doing so, although at several significant points, their recommendations are similar. Of course, they advocated these disciplines for different reasons: the Buddha to achieve liberation from samsara, and Confucius to promote social harmony in this life. Yet, viewed from a different angle, they shared the belief that self-discipline is necessary to bring forth the best that is within us.
The Confucian Way
Master Kong never laid out anything as clear-cut as the Noble Eightfold Path for his disciples to follow, but he did set out specific landmarks for guiding them along the path of virtue, which he called the Way, or Dao. These markers are scattered throughout the Analects and, like the elements of his life and philosophy, have to be carefully culled from the text. Fortunately, a close reading highlights the basic practices that Confucius regarded as central to moral nurturance.
A few sentences out of the first book of the Analects capture several of these practices in a single paragraph: “A gentleman avoids seeking to satisfy his appetite to the full when he eats and avoids seeking comfort when he is at home. He is diligent in deed and cautious in word, and he associates with possessors of the Way and is put right by them. He may simply be said to be fond of learning.”[2] As in the teaching of the Buddha, there is an element of moderate asceticism in the life of the gentleman and the gentleman-in-training. He avoids eating too much and becoming too comfortable. Furthermore, conscious self-restraint helps encourage what is surely a major aspect of the practice of kindness: combating the tendency toward self-absorption. Confucius called this “subduing oneself.”[3]
This passage also indicates that Confucian discipline requires self-awareness in word and deed. For this, the master advocated a form of meditation, what he variously called “quiet-sitting,” “abiding in reverence,” and “rectifying the mind.” Like the Buddha and the Upanishadic sages, Confucius recognized the value of taking time to devote attention to one’s own thoughts and experiences. Such a practice sharpens the faculty of awareness and also creates space for critical self-examination. Confucius’ capacity to look at himself with ruthless honesty almost certainly contributed to at least two other worthy qualities: his openness to being corrected and taught by others and his modesty, traits that are also related to one another. It takes a spirit of humbleness to be receptive to instruction. The most difficult students to teach are those who lack humility. Perhaps that is why he refused to teach someone who did not share his love of learning: “The Master said: ‘To those who are not eager to learn I do not explain anything, and to those who are not bursting to speak I do not reveal anything. If I raise one angle and they do not come back with the other three angles, I will not repeat myself,”[4]
Confucius seems to sum up the traits of the gentleman in the last sentence of the passage: “He may simply be said to be fond of learning.” But what sorts of things did Confucius think it important to learn? For the sage, devotion to learning meant especially the study of certain Chinese classics. The Master himself spent a prodigious amount of time studying the documents and chronicles of earlier periods, books on ritual, the Yi Jing, and the Book of Odes. Eventually, the most important of these writings were designated as the Wu Jing, or the Five Classics, and they became the first canon of Confucian writings.[5] When Confucianism was later established as the basis of Chinese education, the Wu Jing formed the foundation of the curriculum.A thorough grounding in these texts was considered indispensable to a career in the governm
ent, which was regarded as the appropriate profession for a Confucian.
In his program of self-cultivation, Confucius also included an educated appreciation of the refined arts of music, dance, and poetry. Music was a particular love of Confucius’s; he enjoyed singing and playing the lute. As mentioned earlier, he believed that particular kinds of music had the power to evoke and refine moral sensitivities. In this context, he was thinking mainly of music that might be performed at state occasions and in rituals such as sacrifices, weddings, and funerals. At these times, he thought the music must fit the occasion and contribute to the general purpose of the event. Apparently, Confucius was especially sensitive to the spiritual power of music. A disciple reports, “When the Master was in Qi, he heard the shao [a musical piece for a state ceremony], and for three months did not notice the taste of meat. He said: ‘I did not imagine that music-making reached such perfection.’”[6] By the same token, certain forms of music, he thought, could be a disruptive influence and degrade our capacities for kindness and harmony.
Unlike spiritual teachers of some other traditions, Confucius encouraged his followers to devote attention to the minute details of daily life. The forest shramanas of the Ganges basin in India practiced a radical disregard for the things of this world; since the world was transient, the shramanas sought to attend only to that which is enduring: the invisible and intangible atman. But to Confucius, such things as clothing and food and even one’s posture were matters of spiritual significance. One of the books of the Analects contains an extensive list of rules for wearing clothes: the proper colors to wear and not wear (mauve and purple, by the way, were not acceptable for the gentleman), the appropriate types of material for particular seasons, and the correct way to fold robes. These regulations may seem rather tedious, but they served important functions in the cultivation of moral character. Some of these purposes are obscure without knowing the complete context, but others are more apparent. For example, Confucius told his students never to eat their fill in the presence of someone in mourning. Self-restriction in this case not only displayed solidarity with one in grief but also allowed one an opportunity to reflect on his or her common lot with the mourner and the deceased, bringing attention to the fact that we all mourn and we all die. That simple recognition helps deepen our sense of compassion and reverence for life. Wearing the proper clothes, folding them in the correct way, and carrying oneself with upright posture suggest a respect for oneself and for the society of which one is a part. Confucius emphasized that observing these rules should always be done with the utmost humility and never to gain advantages for oneself.
Although Confucius promoted attentiveness to these mundane aspects of experience, he also encouraged a kind of detachment from material possessions and things. He seemed to know, like the Buddha, that happiness is not found in acquisitions: “The Master said: ‘Even in the midst of eating coarse rice and drinking water and using a bent arm for a pillow, happiness is surely to be found; riches and honors acquired by unrighteous means are to me like the floating clouds.’”[7] In this brief passage, Confucius expressed one of the major themes of the Axial Age religions: Happiness has nothing to do with wealth, recognition, or comfort but everything to do with righteousness.
Observance of Li
Finally, we come to what is probably the most important dimension of self-cultivation in the Confucian view, the proper observance of li. The term li has a rich history in Chinese religions. It is an ancient word that Confucius infused with new meaning. Originally, limeant the ritual sacrifice performed for the gods, ancestors, and other spirits, but Confucius transformed the concept of li in two fundamental ways. First, he extended its meaning to refer not only to public, formal occasions of ritual but to all occasions of human interaction. Just as Shakespeare compared the world to a stage and men and women to actors, Confucius thought of the world as a temple and of men and women as participants in a grand ceremony. He believed that in all our dealings with others, we ought to act and comport ourselves with all the dignity appropriate to a sacred rite. He described the features of this dignified approach: “The things which the gentleman values in the Way are three: in transforming his demeanor he banishes his violence and rudeness, in composing his expression he keeps close to sincerity, and in the style of his utterances he banishes coarseness and impropriety.”[8] What Confucius illustrates in this passage are examples of social etiquette. And with that observation, we return to an earlier point about the meaning of the word gentleman. In the Confucian sense, the gentleman is indeed a mannerly individual. Confucius was not interested in manners simply for the sake of appearing courteous or gaining personal advantages. When performed with the proper inner disposition, following the rules for correct behavior has the potential to make us more humane.
This was Confucius’ second contribution to the understanding of li: connecting it to moral development. In the Shang and early Zhou dynasties, ritual was understood primarily as the performance of certain external acts. Simply going through the prescribed motions was sufficient to make the ritual effective. Closer to the time of Confucius, licame to include the inner sense of reverence and sincerity of the ritual’s participants. The sacrifice had to be enacted in the proper spirit, lest it be ineffective and displeasing to those it intended to honor. Confucius took this concern with the interior dimension of ritual a step further by associating it with the quality of humaneness. Ritual thus became an act that not only pleased the divine beings but also (and perhaps more importantly for Confucius) shaped the moral character of the participant and observers.
“Confucius transformed the concept of li in two fundamental ways. First, he extended its meaning to refer not only to public, formal occasions of ritual but to all occasions of human interaction. . . . Second, he connected it to moral development. Ritual thus became an act that not only pleased the divine beings but also (and perhaps more importantly for Confucius) shaped the moral character of the participant and observers.”
Let us explore for a few moments what led Confucius to regard li as a discipline for refining humaneness. For clarity, we will focus on li as a sacred public ritual rather than the etiquette of everyday life or the private rituals of ancestor reverence. The dynamics are fundamentally the same in all cases but are more evident in public ritual.
The state rituals performed in the time of Confucius were elaborate events that required extensive study before they could be performed. These occasions often required many persons to be directly involved with the ceremony. There were ritual specialists as well as musicians, dancers, and actors who performed for the pleasure of the audience, which consisted of both human and divine beings. The gods were invited to attend with invocations and attracted to the proceedings by the smells of the food. Food offerings were made for the principal benefit of the spirits and ancestors, but humans also were allowed to partake. The offerings were usually animals sacrificed for the occasion and cooked or burnt whole. The most common victims were oxen, pigs, and sheep. A ritual that included one of each species was especially pleasing to the gods. Sometimes the spirits were offered gifts of silk and jade or rice and millet, but more important than the gifts themselves was the reverential and gracious attitude with which they were offered. According to the Book of Odes, the spirits rewarded with a long life those who sacrificed in the correct frame of mind.
Confucius saw many aspects of the ritual as evoking and refining the sense of humaneness. The study required to perform the ritual served as a form of discipline and self-restraint. It also provided knowledge about the meaning of the ritual itself, which Confucius believed embodied the mysteries of Heaven. Even beyond this mystical dimension, the ritual had more mundane elements that contributed to moral development. Participating in the ritual encouraged certain emotions and states of mind, such as reverence, gratitude, and humility. It promoted a spirit of cooperation among people and instilled the importance of subordinating personal needs and desires to the social endeavor. Not unlike medit
ation, it required concentration and attention to detail. While people were conducting a ritual, it would be very difficult for them to think of things other than the events at hand. Finally, ritual could create a sense of interconnectedness between humanity and divinity, reminding the participant that he or she was part of a vast web of interdependent relationships involving the gods, the earth, and other human beings.
The relationship between humaneness and liwas thus dialectical, each element mutually strengthening the other. The more one grows in the quality of humaneness, the easier and more authentic is the expression of that quality while interacting with others. The deeper my feelings of compassion and the greater my awareness of those feelings, the more likely I am to act on them and to do so genuinely. By the same token, the more I act kindly, compassionately, and reverentially, the more I become of aware of the roots of those qualities in my inner nature.
How Self-Cultivation Transforms Society
The Age of the Sages Page 23
