Based on the teachings of the Buddha, this book offers the most compelling and impassioned indictment of meat-eating to be found in Tibetan literature and is pertinent to anyone interested in vegetarianism as a moral or spiritual issue. The Buddha's teachings show how destructive habits can be examined and transformed gradually from within. The aim is not to repress one's desire for meat and animal products by force of will, but to develop heartfelt compassion and sensitivity to the suffering of animals, so that the desire to exploit and feed on them naturally dissolves.
There are two texts presented here. One is an excerpt from Shabkar's Book of Marvels , consisting of quotations from the Buddhist scriptures and the teachings of masters of Tibetan Buddhism that argue against the consumption of meat, with Shabkar's commentary. The second, the Nectar of Immortality , is Shabkar's discourse on the importance of developing compassion for animals.
Shabkar Tsogdruk Rangdröl (Tib. ཞབས་དཀར་ཚོགས་དྲུག་རང་གྲོལ་, Wylie. zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol) was a Tibetan Buddhist lama and Dzogchenpa considered to be an emanation of Milarepa due to his yogic lifestyle and prolific composition of spontaneous poetry and songs.
I just read “Food of Bodhisattvas”. It’s interesting to read about Buddhist views on eating meat, drinking alcohol, eating garlic, etc. I am, personally, somewhat inclined toward vegetarianism. I’m not at all a Buddhist, and I am convinced that Buddhism is not a religion that would successfully lead me into the spirituality I seek. However, upon reflection, it does seem to me that slaughtering other living beings and consuming their flesh borders on barbaric. After all, many of those creatures that we are inclined to slaughter and eat without a second thought are creatures that, while living, are highly aware, sensitive to pain, desiring “happiness” (whatever happiness is to them), and seeking to avoid all pain and all danger.
Do animals have “souls”? I lean toward a positive reply. What, then, are those souls like? Do they go to some sort of “heavenly realm” when the animals die? Are they reincarnated into other creatures? To the materialist scientist this is rank foolishness. To such a person, there’s no soul, no life hereafter – for animals or humans – and we’re all parts of the material universe, in which there is no ultimate meaning, purpose, or value. As the famous atheist philosopher, Bertrand Russell, declared, the universe JUST IS – it needs no explanation, meaning, or purpose. To a devout theist who denounces Russell’s outlook as dead wrong, the universe is infinitely aware or (put differently), the Creator of the universe – who’s infinitely aware – has purpose for the universe, and the universe is infinitely full of meaning.
So far as the book currently being reviewed is concerned, there’s much in the book that’s of interest, and it very effectively demonstrates how powerfully people can clash over theological beliefs and values. This book shows that among the Buddhists there is very great disagreement over whether (or when and how) meats may properly be eaten. This little book gives a harsh condemnation for eating meats, but it also clearly reveals that not nearly all Buddhists concur with that view.
This book would be recommended for anyone who is considering that vegetarianism might be the best way to go with respect to diet and food consumption. One need not be a Buddhist in order to maintain serious reservations about the propriety of eating the flesh of other creatures.
I confess I was less than rousingly impressed by this book. While the author, Shabkar, was one of Tibet's greatest yogi's since Milarepa, very little of the text is actually from his hand.
The book has three parts. The first, the introduction, is the lengthiest at 46 pages. It discusses something of the history and place of vegetarianism in traditional Tibet, contrasting the situation with Tibetans in exile and Buddhists in the West. The main section of the introduction paints a portrait of Shakar himself. I can only say he must have been an extraordinary character, living homeless much like the Buddha's early disciples, but instead of hanging out in jungles he lived amid the cold and treeless mountain crags of Tibet.
The intro then discusses the place of meat-eating in Buddhism. The traditions drawn from here--as in Shabkar's writings--are from the three major "turnings of the wheel," i.e. shravakayana (Hinayana), Mahayana, and Mantrayana (i.e. Vajrayana, the Buddhism of the tantras). Underpinning everything is the notion that, as diverse and often contradictory as they often are, the Buddha taught all these doctrines as part of a gradual, or graded, dispensation. And so, according to the introduction...
"...there exists a hierarchy of teaching, a scale of validity, according to which basic instruction is regarded as provisional, set forth according to need and superseded by higher, more demanding instruction to be expounded when the disciple is ready. For Shabkar, as for all teacher of Tibetan Buddhism the instructions set forth on the Hinayana level are of vital importance in laying the foundations for correct understanding and practice. But they are not final. They are surpassed by the teachings of the Mahayana, just as, within the Mahayana itself, the sutra teachings prepare the way for, and are surpassed by, the tantra. It is thus that the entire sweep of the Buddha's teaching fits together in a harmonious ad coherent system, in which teachings that seem incomplete from the standpoint of a higher view are assigned an appropriate, preparatory position lower down the scale" (16).
This view has prevailed throughout much of the Buddhist world for a long time, and is the result of various cultures (China, Tibet, etc) receiving diverse canons and texts, many of which originated in different periods of Buddhist history, while believing them all to represent the Buddha's words. Given the discrepancies and outright contradictions of outlooks and practices between the many texts, the approach above is hardly surprising if one assumes they all sprang from one man. Shabkar certainly believed this, and no one can blame him. It irks me, however, that contemporary scholars and practitioners persist in perpetuating this nonsense, given what we now know about the history of Buddhist texts. For example, the Lankavatara Sutra, a widely quoted work that harshly condemns meat-eating, is assumed to be the Buddha's own words, yet it is clearly a composite work, first translated into Chinese in 443 CE, though probably originating several hundred years earlier. While its dating is tricky, not even its seed ideas can in any way be attributed to Shakyamuni or any of his disciples. (See E.J. Thomas, The History of Buddhist Thought, pp. 230ff.) Similar remarks can be made about every other Mahyanist sutra, not to mention the various, still later tantras.
Following the above, the introduction discusses the notion of "three-fold purity" in the Hinayana (meaning, the Buddha's teachings in the Pali Suttas), where the Buddha enjoins monks not to eat any meat offering if they have "seen, heard or suspected" it to have been killed specifically for them. This ordinance, totally understandable as applied to mendicant monks, becomes problematic, however, when applied to laity, and this really is the source of the confusion and debate about meat-eating among Buddhists. The Mahayana and Mantrayana (tantric) perspectives on vegetarianism are also discussed.
What bothered me most about the introduction--its moralising and lecturing quality, especially toward the end--got even worse in the second section of the book, entitled "The Faults of Eating Meat." This is a kind of compendium of Buddhist textual sources on the subject selected and arranged by Shabkar. If one's goal is simply to learn what Buddhists have said about meat-eating over the years, this section serves admirably. If you are looking for well-reasoned, cogent arguments, look elsewhere. Much of it is hellfire-and-brimstone preaching; apparently the Christians haven't got anything on the Buddhists in this regard, sad to say. Here's an inspiring snippet:
"It is written in the Sutra Describing Karmic Cause and Effect:
"If you eat meat and chew on bones, you will lose your teeth! If you eat intestines and the meat of dogs and swine, you will be reborn in an infernal state that is filled with filth. If you eat fish after scraping off their scales, you will be born in the hell of sword-forests" (77).
Very little of this section comes from Shabkar; he simply scoured sutras, tantras and commentaries and took whatever he could find to support his beliefs--a kind of eighteenth century Tibetan cut-and-paste creation. The third part of the book, however, is all Shabkar, though regrettably brief--only 28 pages out of the book's 144!
Entitled "The Nectar of Immortality," I found it a well reasoned, impassioned polemic against meat-eating. The principal--and most persuasive--argument here can be summed up as "If there is no meat-eater, there will be no animal killer..." (101). He discusses this idea at length, giving examples of how local monasteries, though themselves not involved in the act of butchery or animal killing, by their plentiful purchases of meat help to sustain the local meat industry.
Which cuts quick to the bone, if you don't mind the pun. I once had a discussion with a friend on this subject, and he pointed out that I was hardly less guilty of the deaths of animals than the butcher himself since I basically employed the butcher to do the dirty work. Indeed, I couldn't escape the logic of it then, and readers will be hard pressed to miss Shabkar's points. This section of the book was easily the most rewarding and satisfactory, worth the rest combined. While the book as whole was something of a disappointment, it gave me a bit of a sense of Shabkar the man and I look forward to reading his autobiography. Perhaps I've found my patron saint.
"whatever worldly people do that is in harmony with the Buddha's word should be considered as the teachings of the Buddha himself"
the title of this definitely got me, like yeah i want to eat like the bodhisattvas do of course. i have been vegetarian for 7 years now and was recently thinking about it more deeply. asking myself, why do i really do this? this was a decision i made long ago, and i stand by it, but what does this mean to me? is this part of who i am or just something i do (and what's the difference)? if i stopped doing this what would that mean? i will say, this book didn't answer all those questions but it did give me some tools to further explore them.
this book is divided into three parts, an introduction, a section of collected teachings from sakyamuni buddha, and the original author's perspective. i definitely preferred the first two, and though the introduction did a good job of framing the author's life and perspective in a historical context, i had some problems with the rhetoric in the last section. it seemed way too punitive for buddhist philosophy in my opinion. also: in today's world, i feel that the most compassionate way to eat meat would actually be killing your own food. there is far more honor and respect in that act, i believe, than the way the industry kills animals, in torturous and fearful conditions. (related reading here: tender is the flesh). how does the teaching change to accommodate this?
the part that helped me the most was discussing the basis for vegetarianism in buddhism, a place of compassion for all living beings. i thought of the horrible feelings i get when i see roadkill, and the mindless way i used to eat meat without ever feeling satisfied, controlled by the desire for desire. the idea of bringing consciousness to the act of consumption, even of meat, as a way to progress towards enlightenment, was well explained. suuper big on that! to end with, there's always a few things that bring me humor in buddhist texts.
here, it was an idea like "oh, you want to eat something indulgent in a detached way? that's fine, but only if you can also eat something disgusting in that detached way. not so detached now are we?" glorious buddhaaaa <3
Other than the translator's lengthy introduction, there are two main sections to this book, The Faults of Eating Meat and The Nectar of Immortality. The first section is a bit disjointed, not as enjoyable of a read, but full of insight and wisdom. The final, "Nectar" section is a more enjoyable, coherent read.
There is much in the trappings and terminology of Buddhism that I do not understand, but many things that I understand better now having read this book. There seems to be some disagreement about whether or not meat eating is an acceptable practice for the Buddhist, partly because different teachers have expressed different levels of tolerance for the practice. Ultimately the Buddha made it clear that to do no harm to any living being is an important foundation to real, true Buddhism. So why the disagreements? It is explained why some Buddhists defend meat eating: because some would not begin to follow the path of Buddhism if it were mandated from the outset that "No Buddhists should eat meat" and that there are levels. For example, apparently not all aspire to be Bodhisattvas, but those who do, who have taken this vow, should certainly do so. What it comes down to in the end is that the closer one comes to fulfilling their own Buddha nature, to becoming a Boddhisattva, the easier and more necessary it is to avoid eating meat. Abstaining is simultaneously a sign of getting closer to achieving the goals of the Buddha and a vehicle to achieve even greater levels of compassion. Compassion must be for all of life. Meat eating is ultimately not justifiable just because we like it or are used to it. We must overcome our habits and water the seeds of compassion for all.
This book made sense of this dialogue and, in its way, encourages Buddhists to not merely continue in the habits that we like but to strive for greater degrees of compassion. One thing made clear here is that this is not so much about a rule that we are allowed to break as it is about achieving new heights in our own compassion. To that end this book is a success even if it takes a little time to gain the momentum we might hope for when we first open its pages.