The Wisdom of Kwan Yin

Rev. Millie Rochester

Kwan Yin, the Buddhist goddess of compassion, is one of the most revered figures in Asia. This service, delving into her origin, history, and nature, explores ways in which she transcends Buddhism, and is relevant for us today. New members will be recognized.

Service Coordinator: Charlene Zelanko

Sermon

Ordination has been on my mind lately. This afternoon, I travel to Vancouver to participate in that rite of passage for a Canadian colleague; and as I told you last week, this is also the ordination date of Amy Carol Webb, a singer-songwriter Roger and I know from Florida. So I guess it’s natural that I am remembering my own ordination.

There are not very many “high-church” occasions within Unitarian Universalism, but the tradition of Ordination is one of them. It is a congregational act of recognition, reaching back almost four hundred years in the heritage of Unitarianism on this continent. For a minister, Ordination follows a long process of education, training, and approval from the MFC, the Ministerial Fellowship Committee, which is our denomination’s credentialing body. But whereas the MFC approves, or fellowships, individuals, only a congregation is empowered to ordain. In our tradition, each congregation has the authority to select its own leaders. Rarely, though, does one ordain someone who has not been granted ministerial fellowship. All in all, Ordination is a grand event in the life of a minister.

In my case, my home congregation, which had encouraged me and in no small way enabled me to enter ministry, chose to ordain me. The three hundred seats in the sanctuary were occupied by members of the congregation, family, friends, colleagues; and mentors from near and far. After the words had been spoken – vows, really – my parents cloaked me in my minister’s robe, and I was given gifts from the congregation: two beautiful stoles that had been hand-created by women in our Transylvanian Partner Church. I am wearing one of them this morning.

Rick Davis, the parish minister, presented me with this statuette of Kwan Yin. I have to admit that I knew little about her at the time, but the combination of serenity and strength that seemed to emanate from her was enough for me, on that Ordination evening.

This particular representation depicts the Asian goddess holding a smiling youngster. Perhaps my being the mother of four is the reason I identified with her; or maybe it was my long tenure as Director of Religious Education. What parent or DRE doesn’t aspire to embody those qualities of serenity and strength? I learned that this is but one of Kwan Yin’s many outward appearances; that she was not a mother herself, but represented universal motherliness. My own sensitivities underwent a subtle shift: from identification to inspiration, and I wanted to know more. Who is this entity, Kwan Yin, I wondered.

Kwan Yin is venerated throughout Southeast Asia. Her presence in China evolved from an existence in India as the Buddhist Avalokiteshvara, the embodiment of compassion in a male form. The etymology of the Sanskrit is descriptive: avalokita means “seeing or gazing down;” and isvara means lord. Western scholars have suggested that the concept of Avalokiteshvara was based on a Hindu deity absorbed by Mahayana teaching as an aspect of the Budddha. Significantly, the Mahayana tradition is the form of Buddhism that centres on Universalism, enlightened wisdom, and compassion.

According to Mahayana doctrine, Avalokiteshvara was a Bodhisattva – that is, someone who has attained Enlightenment, but postponed Buddha-hood in favour of helping others; and who listens to the prayers of all sentient beings in times of difficulty. Tibetan Buddhists believe that the Dalai Lama is a manifestation of Avalokiteshvara.

So how did an Indian god become a Chinese goddess? There are several theories. Avalokiteshvara became increasingly feminine in character and appearance, at a time when Buddhist and Hindu practices were melding. Some believe her female nature resulted from a fusion of Avalokiteshvara qualities and those of the Taoist Queen Mother. Others see her origin in the early Indian, later Tibetan, goddess Tara, whose history dates back fourteen centuries. (Boucher) Still others suggest that the need for a female presence in the religious environment when Buddhism was spreading throughout China was the reason morphed into Kwan Yin, which means “She Who Hears the Cries of the World.” (Palmer and Ramsay) However it happened, it’s interesting to me that while Indian culture seemed content to depict compassion in the form of a god, in China compassion took on the feminine form.

Kwan Yin presents herself in many forms: a figure with a hundred arms, who is prepared to stop the suffering of all those around the world; a person accompanied by a male and female companion and a white parrot, who is particularly venerated by sailors; what you see here – a calm feminine figure holding a child – as well as other appearances.

Unlike Avalokiteshvara, who is typically depicted as a man, Kwan Yin is, as a rule, depicted as a woman. Someone observed, “She is often shown riding a dolphin, a unique vision of women’s wild strength. She who rides – yet doesn’t control the untameable forces of life – holds the key to happiness.” (Blair) It is said that no other Chinese deity has more incarnations than Kwan Yin; but a constant element is her gentle serenity, seemingly pouring out her compassion toward the world.

Like Avalokiteshvara, Kwan Yin is a Bodhisattva. She attained enlightenment, and could have moved on from the weight of this earthly life, but elected to stay behind as an instrument of compassion and comfort for those who are still suffering in the world. The Bodhisattvas’ vow is included among the readings in our hymnal, Singing the Living Tradition:

May all sentient beings be well and enjoy the root of happiness:

Free from suffering and the root of suffering.

May they not be separated from the joy beyond sorrow.

May they dwell in spacious equanimity.

All right, learning about this might be interesting, but what does it have to do with us? Surely I am not hinting that we should all set aside our own ultimate fulfillment in favour of others’ needs; nor am I suggesting that we all worship Kwan Yin, or any other deity – not least of all because I do not believe that Kwan Yin is the source of all compassion.

No, that would be too easy.

Rather, we are the source of compassion – we, ourselves.

You know how I enjoy taking words apart; let’s do that with the word compassion. In Sanskrit, it is karuna. The syllable ru refers to weeping. Compassion, then, extends beyond a distant sort of feeling sorry for someone, to taking on the suffering of others, intensely identifying with it as if it is one’s own. That’s a tall order.

But think back a little bit to the words we spoke in unison just before hearing the joys, sorrows, and concerns for which candles were lit: “Let us find within ourselves that open space of quiet, and to this space may we turn our hearts, our ears, and our minds. May we receive the shared joys, sorrows, and yearnings into the spaces we have prepared, and hold them sacred. This is our ministry of listening, our task of holiness and love.”

The sharing of our joys, our sorrows, and our concerns within the context of a worship service is intentional. We lift up what is in our hearts; our feelings of grief as well as happiness, to the hearts of one another. And as we listen to the sorrows and concerns of our sisters and brothers in community, we know once again that we are not alone in those feelings; and we go on living in spite of the pain that life is bound to bring. By the same token, we lift up our happiness; for as Mark Twain said, "…to get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with."

Kwan Yin symbolizes the capacity we each have within us to listen with compassion and be truly present. Nancy Blair, in her book, Goddesses for Every Season, puts it this way:

Her gift of tranquility is the secret that is no secret: the potential for deep understanding, compassionate wisdom and courageous, empowered action are present within us at all times. Each of us is born with wholeness – conception and completion at the center of the seed. Accepting and honouring all of who we are is Kuan Yin’s (sic) healing power of compassion at play.

We have opportunities to do this every day; not limited to Sunday mornings at church. Many of you demonstrate this through your individual efforts in the community, professionally or as volunteers: in literacy programs, social service, activism, advocacy, and other endeavors. The Rissho Kosei Kai, a relatively recent movement in Japan, views Bodhisattvas as invitations to our own religious selves, based on the premise that we each are, or have the potential to be, Bodhisattvas. We all have a "Universal Buddha Nature."

We have limitless potential. The Bodhisattva Kwan Yin invites us, each of us, to be filled with compassion, receptive listening, mercy, kindness, and warm wisdom – indeed, to "hear the cries of the world." (Hochgraf)

Yet, it is not enough to passively “hear the cries of the world” – although it is where we must begin – and that is why we respond to what we hear through action: we give of ourselves; in the wider community, with food for Winnipeg Harvest, so that others may eat nutritiously; by splitting the non-designated offering, giving three hundred dollars and more each month on a rotating basis to Canadian Women for Women in Afghanistan, to help them support an orphanage; to Winnipeg’s Rossbrook House, which offers a constant, healthy alternative to the violence of the streets; to the West Central Women’s Resource Centre, which empowers women to help themselves, their families and their community to safer, healthier lifestyles.

And these actions are appreciated. Rossbrook House invited its volunteers and donors to a luncheon recently, and presented each group with a lovely gift – a plaque like this one. Ours says, “Thank you First Unitarian Universalist Church of Winnipeg For your goodness to the children and youth of Rossbrook House.

Winnipeg Harvest and Share not the Plate are just two examples of church-sponsored programs. They are not my programs; they are congregational programs, and that’s important. As a congregation, we have the power to accomplish what no one person could possibly do alone.

As for Kwan Yin, she is not the source of compassion, but a source of inspiration.

My colleague Dottie Mathews writes:

[Kwan Yin’s] image bids us to embrace the part of our own natures where we are grounded and clear – not buffeted by whatever comes our way – mindfully embracing the events of our lives as ever present invitations to open our hearts ever wider; to find the ability again and again to [speak] what is true; to respond to our own life-pain knowing that we are one of millions suffering in that way; to wake up each and every day and make the heartfelt commitment to love the world anew.

Kwan Yin’s image bids us to embrace the most pure, the most deep of what relationships are, along the path that is our life journey. Her image bids us to reflect on the character of that path. The poet Brian Burns reflects:

If you’re asking me, this is the path.
The path is gentle; the path is kind; it is forgiveness.
It is letting go. It really is peace.
It really is love.
The path is hopeful.
The path is generous.
The path is not harming – anything.
The path can own no gate, because its heart is never closed.
The path is welcoming.
The path is home.
If I should ever learn of a better path, I’ll let you know.
If you should hear of a better one, tell me.
But for now, this is the path. And all the rest and anything else is just a child’s
quarrel over trifles.

Kwan Yin’s image has come to us from another place and time. Is she relevant for us, today? Well, we are notably diverse, so I cannot answer for everyone. Rationalists and perhaps some others see no need for gods of any sort. If you’re asking me, I would say compassion is a necessary element for the human character; and if Kwan Yin serves to inspire this quality, in any of us, she is relevant today for all of us; for this is the path we must choose. May we walk it together, unafraid to lean on one another for strength when it’s necessary, and offering others our shoulders to lean on, when we can. Blessed be.

Selected Resources:

Blair, Nancy, Goddesses for Every Season, Element Books, Inc., Rockport, MA: 1995)

Boucher, Sandy, Opening the Lotus: A Woman’s Guide to Buddhism, Boston: Beacon Press, 1997.

Boucher, Sandy, Discovering Kwan Yin, Buddhist Goddess of Compassion: A Path Toward Clarity and Peace, Boston: Beacon Press, 1999.

Fox, Matthew, One River, Many Wells, Jeremy P. Tarcher/Putnam: 2000, New York, N.Y., 2000.

Hochgraf, Eva, “Kwan Yin Goddess of Compassion,” March 8, 1998.

Palmer, Martin, and Jay Ramsay with Man-Ho Kwok, Myths and Prophecies of the Chinese Goddess of Compassion, London: Thorsons (An Imprint of HarperCollins), 1995.