According to all the Buddhist teachings, the essential nature of our own being is Buddha nature. But how can we perceive our essential nature?

Nichiren described the Gohonzon in a writing entitled "The True Object of Worship for Perceiving the Nature of Your Own Being." This concept of "perceiving the nature of your own being" is known as kanjin.
A High Priest of Nichiren Shoshu gave a sermon on this concept of kanjin several years ago, and talked about how it applies in daily life. I appreciate this because all too often Buddhism -- as well as most other religions -- presents the theoretical as something for consideration rather than action. What I have always loved about Nichiren's teachings is that they are explicitly clear and elegantly simple about daily life. Other than encouraging us to strive to be bodhisattvas, the teachings are remarkably devoid of moralizing.

The priest explained that, from the Buddhist perspective, life is a little like a movie. The movie derives meaning based on the continuity of individual frames flowing at 24 still pictures per second. A single frame will not allow us to fathom the story.

Similarly, the flow of life through time reveals its infinite permutations and provides us with richness and meaning.

Even so, in life it might be useful to be able to periodically "freeze-frame" our existence in order to pinpoint and analyze all that is happening at any given moment. That way, we would be better able to recognize both the effects that are occurring to us and the causes that are simultaneously arising, begetting yet more effects, at any given instant. This wisdom would better enable us to direct the path of our karma or our destiny.

We can freeze-frame the flow of a movie through good digital technology and a pause button. Life, however, is not so malleable.

Through consciousness and sleep, through good times and bad, life continues its relentless motion. So much is going on that it is impossible to grasp all that is happening at any given moment, let alone analyze and create a strategy to deal with all the parameters.

And how much worse is it for us now than, say, in Nichiren's time? Between the printed word, television, computers and the Internet (not to mention the number of people with whom modern technology puts me in touch each day), I have more input in the course of a week than Nichiren may have had in his entire life.

The High Priest's point was that the purpose of the Gohonzon is precisely this: to allow us to cut through all the distractions and focus on the moment of life. In perceiving this moment at the deepest levels, we are able to tap the Buddha wisdom inherent in each of us and determine what to do next.

From moment to moment, everything changes -- our circumstances, events, and even the truth. It is critical to always check and verify what variations may or may not have occurred. This is why the practice of Buddhism is a daily one. Each day brings a new set of realities. We must consistently tap into our Buddha wisdom to accurately and flexibly deal with what confronts us today.

For me, tapping my Buddha wisdom -- or freeze-framing my life -- is manifested as the conscious experience of directly communicating with Nichiren. As I said in the last chapter, my chanting to the Gohonzon has literally become an ongoing dialogue with the Daishonin. While this has been my subjective experience, I submit that anyone chanting to the Gohonzon will, over a period of time, have a similarly transformative experience.

The Gohonzon gradually evolves from an alien-looking piece of paper out there to an indispensable tool by which one gains insight "in here." It doesn't fly through the air, glow in the dark or have lightning bolts shooting out from it. Nevertheless, any person who approaches Nichiren's object of worship with even the slightest modicum of respect will be pleasantly surprised (and I mean surprised) by the relationship that develops.

I consider the Gohonzon from two perspectives. One is that it is definitely the most distinctive and perhaps only entirely original part of Nichiren's teachings. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo had been known, and perhaps even chanted before, but his invention of the Gohonzon was totally a product of his own enlightenment.

The other is that I know for a fact the "object" known as the Gohonzon provides the greatest hurdle any Westerner has to leap in considering the practice of Nichiren's teachings. Its theoretical underpinnings are complex, obscure and alien as hell.

The theoretical underpinnings of the Gohonzon can be found in a concept known as "three thousand realms in a momentary state of existence," which warrants explanation.

T'ien-t'ai (also referred to as Chih-I) was a Chinese priest who took the sutras -- the teachings of Sakyamuni -- and developed, perhaps even originated a theoretical construct about the nature of reality that goes far beyond the poetry and prose of Sakyamuni.

I have no idea how he did this, but in some way T'ien-t'ai recognized essential universal truths in what Shakyamuni preached and codified these teachings into an elegant explanation of how things work. This theory is known as the "three thousand realms in a momentary state of existence."

Nichiren described his Gohonzon as being the actualization of this principle. It is important to note that Nichiren's enlightenment is, to a great extent, constructed on the foundation of T'ien-t'ai's teachings.

T'ien-t'ai was first trying to convey a philosophy of astonishing breadth and depth, and secondly trying to quantitatively break it down into easy-to-understand modules or components. It was not his intent to limit his description of the Buddhist view of life to a simple 3,000 items. Rather, he wanted to convey the complexity of life and, more important, how that complexity is encompassed by the Buddhist practice.

The number 3,000 is a product that comes from multiplying ten times ten, times ten, times three(10x10x10x3.) Each of these factors represents a theory about how Buddhism views life -- and these are what I want to explore next.

Keep in mind that, just as there are only six numbers in a lottery, there are literally thousands of permutations of those numbers. So too, in dealing with the following theories, realize there are endless ways in which they can be juggled and combined.

The Ten Worlds

The first ten stands for a theory known as the "ten worlds." These are proposed states of existence in which every human being may find him- or herself. The term "world" is quite appropriate because the Buddhist view suggests that your internal condition has an effect upon the way you both perceive and experience the world around you.

This concept defines a number of different places in which you might find yourself. These places, unlike specific rooms like kitchens, offices or bedrooms, tend not to have rigidly defined boundaries. I know people who've driven themselves crazy trying to figure out which world they're in at any given moment. Please try to refrain from engaging in this exercise. The ten worlds are meant as descriptive terms that try to convey the breadth of the human condition.

The ten worlds are: hell, hunger, animality, anger, humanity, rapture, learning, realization, bodhisattva, and Buddhahood. Although some of these may be self-evident by name, I'll attempt to give a brief description of each one. I make no claim to being complete. As with everything I write, the promise is to strive for accuracy, not completeness. I hope this doesn't sound like a cop-out but I know people who've written term papers on the ten worlds, and T'ien-t'ai himself wrote multi-volume commentaries on the three thousand realms.

I'm trying to make sure the sheer length of this tome alone doesn't keep anyone from reading it, hence my assertion that what is contained herein is introductory and not meant to be taken as the last word.

Hell is the life condition of helplessness and hopelessness. We have all known it at one time or another. It may appear in response to something such as the death of someone dear, or some kind of physical debilitation. Hell may also be a place into which we move emotionally or spiritually as a result of depression or addiction.

Whatever the cause -- and please remember that I use this word in the context of unending karma, i.e. the cause is actually the effect of another cause -- the condition of hell feels like shit. A person in such a condition is unmoved by threats about the afterlife because he or she knows that there is truly hell right here on earth.

Hunger is pretty much the spiritual extension of the physical need with which we are all familiar. Rather than hunger for food, it may be hunger for power, sex or material goodies. Modern-day America is a wonderful place to pursue the urges of this particular world, although I'm not convinced such pursuit lends itself to the most fulfilling karma.

Sakyamuni taught that the source of much human suffering lies in living a life rooted in the "three poisons" of avarice, anger and stupidity. Avarice would certainly correspond to the condition found in the world of hunger. This is a condition that does not derive from reason or some noble human function, but rather from an instinctive drive similar to that of physical hunger itself.

In and of itself, hunger is not a bad thing. It helps us to satiate a very real need for many of the necessities of life, be they food, sex, clothing, shelter, whatever. The danger of the second world lies in its tendency to be rapacious and all consuming.

Animality is a condition that, according to Buddhist thought, animals never transcend. In the human condition, animality can be seen in the instinctual needs people indulge to protect themselves. A perfect example might be found in the kind of boss many of us have had: the person who lords it over those who he or she considers to be beneath him while cowering before those perceived as superiors.

The world of anger can serve both lower and higher life functions. There is the kind of anger that derives from feeling like we are in hell, or from having a gnawing hunger for any number of things, or from the animality that tells us we must crush those who would oppose us. This kind of anger, stemming as it does from the lower three worlds, is almost certain to land us in hot water, karma-wise. It can re-entrench our lower life-conditions and thereby serve to prolong whatever suffering created it in the first place.

On the other hand, anger can stem from a higher function of nobility of desire for justice. The anger at a murdering dictator or even run-of-the-mill killer can be seen to derive from a profound sense of empathy for the victims and desire for human justice. On a more mundane scale, anger at people who refuse to help themselves and elevate their condition can be rooted in a higher condition of humanity.

Some psychologists consider the first flickers of anger about past traumas to be therapeutic in opening the doors to greater emotional breakthroughs. However, this is more complex than it might seem because that anger, righteous though it may be, should not act in the service of the lower three worlds or just be expressed for its own sake.

I may be getting abstract here, so let me explain from my own personal experience. My father was murdered in 1987 and it made me very angry. I was so angry that, even though Buddhism tells me that all human beings are potential Buddhas and human life is the most respectworthy thing in the universe, I had trouble extending that to my father's killer. I wanted him to die.

My desire for revenge and self-protection made me feel that punishment meted out on the basis of an eye for an eye was completely justified and rational. Even today, many years later, I still often feel that way.

Nonetheless, my prayer and heart both tell me that, fundamentally, Buddhism is correct. Not only is human life divine, but also the mechanism of the universe will eventually make sure that all causes have their effects, even if we do not see it.

We human beings do not have to make ourselves instruments of universal justice. We do not have to compound the crime of murder by committing it ourselves. I am not crusading here -- I am just trying to explain my personal experience of how the sword of anger cuts two ways.

The next rung on the ladder of the ten worlds is humanity. This signifies the unique attributes that attend to being human, such as making judgments, exercising control over our instincts and seeking harmony with the environment. It is unique in how it defines us as human beings, but it is also mundane in the way it sometimes feels.

Did you ever drive down the street in your car, not particularly thinking about anything and just routinely passing the time? That's kind of like how the world of humanity "feels." Nothing special, yet even a chimpanzee would have trouble doing it for a hundred miles.

Rounding out what are sometimes referred to as the lower six paths is the world of rapture, always a favorite of mine. Pretty much self-explanatory, this condition can arise from any number of circumstances that seem to occur all too rarely for most of us. Whether it's victory in a game, an A in a class, a promotion at work, or the kind of giddy joy that comes from a new love, rapture is something that we all truly enjoy and spend much of our time trying to attain.

The unfortunate thing about rapture, as you can probably tell from its position among the ten worlds, is that it's not what Buddhism would have us ultimately aspire to. It tends to be rather short-lived.

Rapture, whether it lasts for seconds, minutes, hours, or even a few weeks, tends to live more in memory than it does in actual experience. This is why rapture, along with the five worlds beneath it is considered one of the lower six paths.

Essentially, the conditions of life that I have just explained -- hell through rapture -- are dependent on our interaction with the environment. They rise and fall according to circumstance. These worlds may be where we seem to spend most of our time, but they were viewed by T'ien-t'ai as being situations in which the human being is quite dependent on external influence.

In describing the upper four worlds, Buddhist teachers tried to give a sense of how humans can find the underlying truths that govern reality. These can help make our lives more independent from the vicissitudes of everyday existence and thereby make us more free to seek our own direction without wavering.

Learning, the seventh world, is pretty self-explanatory. Human beings seek to elevate their lives by acquiring knowledge and wisdom, but the two are not necessarily the same. How many times do we meet somebody who, although not particularly smart in the book-learning sense of the word, is wise to the ways of the world? This distinction is fairly important in Buddhism.

Learning about life in order to dispel the innate darkness within our being, i.e. seeking enlightenment, is the noblest endeavor of all. Unfortunately, the world of learning may also pose one of the greatest pitfalls to our enlightenment as it leads quite naturally into the next world.

The world of realization is that which we might think naturally transpires as a result of our efforts in learning. It is a wondrous condition wherein all sorts of epiphanies are experienced. These may be as simple as coming to realize, through trial and error, that cars really do break down less when you change the oil.

On the other hand, realizations may be as complex as recognizing, through prolonged meditation, that the key to phenomenal manifestation lies in the twelve-linked chain of dependent origination.

Realization is a cerebral, spiritual rapture. Unlike the lower world of rapture, it essentially stems from a self-motivated learning process, and can be much more long-lived.

Herein lies the problem. In the second chapter of the Lotus Sutra, one of Sakyamuni's disciples, a brilliant man by the name of Sharihotsu, is overjoyed to find out that even he, an intellectual, can attain Buddhahood. For years Sakyamuni taught that those in the worlds of learning and realization -- referred to as people of the "two vehicles" -- could not become enlightened.

This is because such people, by dint of their cosmic realizations attained through long study and meditation, think they already are enlightened. People trapped in these two worlds can become easily deluded by their own comprehension. They start to believe that their own cosmic understanding is the key to all existence.

How many gurus, past and present, have fallen prey to this kind of delusion? Many names come to mind.

Sakyamuni taught, and T'ien-t'ai and Nichiren stressed, that the ninth world, bodhisattva, is the condition in which the portal to enlightenment or Buddhahood is truly opened all the way.

I gave the description of bodhisattva earlier so will not bore you again with it here, except to reiterate my point about how difficult a life-condition it is to maintain, despite all our knowledge and good intentions. The key to functioning consistently in the world of bodhisattva lies in the condition of Buddhahood.

"Ah hah," you say, "if you must tap into the world of Buddhahood to function as a bodhisattva and if bodhisattva is rung number nine while Buddhahood is at the top of the ten-world ladder, then how can we resolve this paradox? I'm being told that the world of bodhisattva gains us entrance to the world of Buddhahood, but that tapping into my own Buddhahood is the only way to maintain the condition of bodhisattva. Sounds like a Catch-22, or at the very least a Zen puzzle, to me."

In the 16th Chapter of the Lotus Sutra, Shakyamuni tried to clarify that Buddhahood is not a destination -- not at the top of a ladder or pyramid. It is and has always been at the core of our being and, as such, is only waiting to have a little illumination thrown upon it.

Sakyamuni himself stated, "The Buddha makes his appearance in the lower nine worlds for the sake of suffering humankind." I believe, and T'ien-t'ai postulated, that he was not only speaking of himself as an historical entity.

Rather, the world of Buddhahood must be viewed as the support structure of our entire existence.

Buddhahood is not at the apex of existence. It is the earth upon which the ladder or pyramid of the lower nine worlds rest. Buddhahood is that entity which under-girds all reality.

Now I'm getting worried that not only have I confused you with all this talk of ladders and pyramids and life-condition hierarchies, I have also strayed too far from my original intent which is to explain Nichiren's object of worship, the Gohonzon.

The Gohonzon, as I mentioned before, is the biggest conceptual stumbling block that the novice Buddhist practitioner -- or even the person seriously delving into Nichiren's teachings for intellectual edification -- has to traverse. Therefore, I am trying to present as complete a theoretical underpinning as I can.

My purpose is to have the reader recognize that there was a lot of heady thought behind that which Nichiren created.

These theories, however, do not need to be intensely analyzed, much less mastered by all practitioners. If that were a necessity of the Buddhist practice, the universal applicability of Nichiren's practice goes right out the window.

There are many people who do not have either the inclination or the ability to understand all this talk of ten worlds and three thousand realms, and that is precisely why the Gohonzon is so significant.

The Gohonzon "works" even if you don't understand its philosophical and religious origins.

*

Chapter 1: Looking for a Bridge

Chapter 2: Nichiren and the Lotus Sutra

Chapter 3: Defining Nam-myoho-renge-kyo

Chapter 4: The Benefits of Buddhist Practice

Chapter 5: A Focal Point for One's Faith

Chapter 6: The Gohonzon and Bodhisattva Practice

Chapter 7: A Personal Relationship with the Gohonzon

Chapter 8: Theoretical Underpinnings of the Gohonzon

Chapter 9: Theoretical Underpinnings of the Gohonzon, Part Two

Chapter 10: Gongyo, An Intensely Personal Symphony