The sick monk and Obama

When President Barack Obama on Friday signed a memorandum that, in part, granted visitation rights and the power to make medical decisions to the same-sex partners of hospitalized homosexuals, the reactions were unsurprising. There were those who lauded the decision, and those who decried it. Those on both sides by and large view this issue with a political perspective. But when you pause for a moment and view this decision as a simple act of empowering the compassionate, it becomes clear that politics or homosexuality or a gay agenda have nothing to do with this. Sort of.

The Mahavagga has a beautiful lesson by the Buddha regarding tending to the sick. In the Kucchivikara-vatthu, the Buddha admonishes a group of monks who failed to tend to a monk stricken with dysentery. The indifference by the others shown toward this ill monk is shocking. When the Buddha asks the monk why no one attends to his needs, the monk replies, “I don’t do anything for the monks, lord, which is why they don’t attend to me.”

Just 20 years ago, hundreds of thousands of gay men were dying from AIDS, many in obscurity. What I mean by obscurity is when an obituary appeared in a local paper, the cause of death was frequently coded: he died from a long illness, was the most common. Sometimes, a specific cause of death was given, such as toxoplasmosis or PCP – pneumocystis pneumonia – but these illnesses among humans are so rare and unknown that only other gays would understand what had happened. And because these obituaries were written by family members, usually parents, there was seldom any mention of a boyfriend or partner. If he were mentioned, it was again obliquely: survived by a long-time friend.

The final insult was often the burial. It was not uncommon for committed partners to purchase cemetery plots together, but there was no guarantee that this would be honored by any surviving family. I remember one story in particular in which the family completely cut off their son’s partner following the son’s death. They wanted to bury their son in a family plot that would eventually exclude the surviving partner. The surviving partner took the matter to court to show that they had purchased plots together, but the judge ruled in favor of the family: the surviving partner had no claim to assert, no legal standing to challenge the wishes of “the family.”

That was then, and as the cliché goes, this is now. In the mid-1990s, protease inhibitors hit the market, dramatically extending the lives of HIV positive individuals, even if they were already diagnosed with AIDS. A savior had come forward for us and his name was David Ho. A good friend of mine was such a case. His T-cell count had dropped to near zero, in part because he refused to take AZT, the treatment widely used at the time. As my friend said to me, “All my friends took AZT, and now they’re all dead.” It turned out to be a good decision, because when protease inhibitors became available, my friend got started on the regimen, and now roughly 30 years after being infected, he remains alive.

Nothing, however, occurs in a vacuum. As HIV-infected gay men started to live longer and healthier, the death rates dropped, and so did interest in keeping AIDS on the front page. The drugs also gave families with gay sons more time to accept this thing called homosexuality. Visiting gymnasiums at colleges and high schools to see the Names Project quilt suddenly seemed quaint rather than important. Now the horror is far away in a place called Sub-Saharan Africa and Southeast Asia.

But we still die, just like everyone else. And while it may not have come for the hundreds of thousands that died alone before, or who died separated from the one they really loved, it has finally come, the awareness that no matter who you are, when you are sick and about to die, there shouldn’t be anyone other than you deciding who gets to be by your side.

It’s not a gay thing. It’s not a political thing. It is simple decency. It is compassion. And it’s about time.

Maggavagga: The Path

Anyone who desires to practice Buddhism needs to have conviction; a steadfast belief that what he or she is doing will bring the desired results. Thanissaro Bhikkhu in part three of “Wings to Awakening” says this about conviction, that it has three parts:

“(S)ocial (whom to trust), intellectual (what to believe), and practical (how to act as a result). Because conviction is focused not on a descriptive proposition but on a course of action — the skillful mastery of the processes of kamma in a social context — these aspects are inextricably intertwined. The social aspect comes from the need to associate with people who have already mastered these processes, learning from their words and emulating their actions. The intellectual aspect — belief in the principle of kamma — is necessary because the development of skillfulness within the mind requires that one understand the nature of kamma, take responsibility for one's actions, and have conviction in one's ability to benefit from developing one's skills. The practical aspect is necessary, for if one does not follow through in developing skill, it shows that one's conviction in the development of skillfulness is not genuine, and that one is not fully benefiting from one's beliefs.”

It is with this in mind that I approach Chapter 20 of the Dhammapada, the Maggavagga, or The Path. Because in the Maggavagga, we get a series of verses that repeat the basic concepts of the Buddha’s teaching: The Noble Eightfold Path; the Four Noble Truths; the doctrine of anatta, or not-self (here is a delightful cartoon that explains succinctly the doctrine of not-self or no-self); the nature of dukha and the deluded mind.

“Of paths, the eightfold is best.
Of truths, the four sayings.
Of qualities, dispassion.
Of two-footed beings,
the one with the eyes
to see.”

The Buddha acknowledges that there are other paths, other doctrines, other dhamma. But he determined that the Noble Eightfold Path was the best the follow, a path focused on developing skillful thought, action and speech. By following the Noble Eightfold Path, the Four Noble Truths are realized, which then leads to dispassion. With dispassion, one sees how things really are. (skipping verses again)

“When you see with discernment,
‘All fabrications are inconstant’ —
you grow disenchanted with stress.
This is the path
to purity.

When you see with discernment,
‘All fabrications are stressful’ —
you grow disenchanted with stress.
This is the path
to purity.

When you see with discernment,
‘All phenomena are not-self’ —
you grow disenchanted with stress.
This is the path
to purity.”

Just about everything we do every day is a fabrication. My job is a fabrication that is driven to create more fabrications. That does not mean my job is not real. It just means our economy only exists because as a societal group we agree to a large extent that it does exist. If our mass agreement stopped, it would be gone, it wouldn’t exist. In poker, equivalent straight flushes are ranked on the suit of each hand, so a straight flush of spades will beat an equivalent straight flush of diamonds. The concept that spades are superior to diamonds in poker is a fabrication. The concept of spades as a suit is a fabrication. A playing card is real because it's matter, but any attempt to qualify the playing card as valuable or worthless requires a fabrication of thought.

“There are no sons
to give shelter,
no father,
no family
for one seized by the Ender,
no shelter among kin.

Conscious
of this compelling reason,
the wise man, restrained by virtue,
should make the path pure
— right away —
that goes all the way to Unbinding.”

Death waits for no one, and no one is exempt from death. The Buddha commented on this frequently, instilling the notion that one can use death as a motivator and even as a teacher.

So I follow the path with conviction. And each step along the way, my conviction becomes stronger. It still wavers from time to time. Maybe I skip a day of meditation. Perhaps I stray from the path, misled by another. But eventually I return. It is a path that works.