The Absolute Theory of Relatives

At this summer’s Buddhist Geeks conference in Rosemead, I was impressed in particular by two of the presenters: Diane Hamilton and Ethan Nichtern.

Ethan was until recently the head of the InterDependence Project in New York City. IDP offers a certificate program in Buddhist studies, so when Ethan sent me a notice that he was starting a lecture series on the Bodhisattva path, I signed up for the study-at-home program.

As I understand Ethan, the Bodhisattva path is the pursuit of Bodhichitta, or compassion for all sentient beings. Achieving a consistent expression of that perspective requires that we consciously dissolve the separation between ourselves and the other. On this path, the seeker is offered four reliances to guard against a descent into narcissism. Trust the teaching more than the teacher. Trust the meaning, not the words. Hold ultimate guidance above provisional guidance. Trust wisdom (with Ethan characterizes as the melding of understanding and intuition) above knowledge.

From the recorded discussion, both Bodhichitta and the final reliance are difficult to grasp. They define states of being, rather than describing the transformative potential of achieving those states. That means that we don’t know how those states will influence behavior, nor how to interact with or support the work done by people that achieve those states.

One of the most powerful concepts in Buddhism, although it takes several formulations, is the distinction between absolute and relative forms of truth. I first encountered these concepts in the chapters on “Other Buddhist Teachings” in Thich Naht Hahn’s The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching. Ethan observes that there is a slippery correlation between “ultimate” and absolute. I’ll start by explaining my understanding of the nature of absolute and relative forms of truth, and elaborate from there.

This axiom is fundamental: Life is the co-evolution of material and spiritual forms. The ultimate goal is the acquisition of spiritual power. That power can be used for two purposes: to gain influence over material reality, or to liberate the self from attachments with the goal of returning to the realm of the Divine. There are two kinds of attachments: entanglement with selfish personalities that seek to tie us down, and material concerns, which are driven by pain.

The paradox of this reality is that to separate ourselves from selfish personalities, we either have to brace our spirits against matter or purge our intimates of their selfishness. If we choose the former, we expose our selves to pain, which leads us naturally to question our choices, and so to enter into the trap of suffering. If we choose the latter, the only way to establish buy-in to the program is to express with complete authenticity our concern for the other.

Now it seems like we’re almost to the end, as in that last sentence we can almost see the principle of Bodhichitta in action. But let’s backtrack a bit: spirit did not start out knowing the endpoint. In the early, highly dynamic stages of material evolution, patterns of spirit that were universally applicable to their needs would have been the only patterns to survive. These would be patterns that we would now characterize as principles. Examples might be “stability”, “consumption” and “proliferation”. Association with “stability” facilitates the survival of a spiritual pattern, adding “consumption” facilitates coupling to material forms that acquire resources to support growth (undermining stability), adding “proliferation” extends access to resources while limiting physical growth (harmonizing stability and consumption).

So here is the realm of the absolute truths, in the realm of spiritual principles. They are persistent resources that various and diverse biological forms can draw upon to more effectively organize and acquire spiritual power. The problem, of course, is that the principles themselves are in competition. It’s amusing here to recall the challenge of competition in Tolkein’s words:

One ring to rule them all. One ring to find them. One ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

In other words, competition is itself a principle. It’s action is to force principles into intimate and self-corrupting engagements that eventually squeeze the life out of them. A benefit can be rationalized: competition is one way of breaking stasis, and thereby producing new principles.

The counter-acting principle, and it’s no accident that its avatars shed light, is unconditional love. It involves the intelligent and conscious practice of helping principles organize themselves in ways that strengthen the aggregate. The primary advantage of this approach is that it doesn’t eat itself as competition does (one of the truths that informed the choice of the title “Love Works”). It tends to view differences through the lens of comparison.

In contrast, the realm of the relative is full of events dominated by dumb matter. This includes things like supernovae and volcanic eruptions, but also many of our autonomous functions (breathing and hunger). Obviously, experience is often a composite of the relative and absolute. Principles influence our concrete behaviors, and our behavior injects energy (either supportive or corrupting) into the principles.

While I wouldn’t claim to be a Bodhisattva, so the suggestion is “provisional” (Ouch! Not enough words!), I believe that the action of a Bodhisattva is to participate in the organization of principles. Their formulation of ultimate guidance express that work. The Bodhisattva’s engagement affords them a certain clarity of perception regarding the relationship between relative behaviors and intimacy with absolute principles. They make suggestions to students intended to improve their associations, which are presented to the student as provisional guidance. Once the student achieves intimacy, of course, the provisional guidance fall away.

At this point, I think that we have arrived at one of the aspects of “wisdom” described by Ethan, but there’s more to be said. This is less well supported here – Chapter 4 of “Love Works” describes a class of physical theories that support this perspective – but my experience is that spiritual forms have a different experience of “time” than do material forms. This has to do with the “relative” (Ouch again! Take the mathematical sense) speeds of signal propagation. When we enter into collaboration with the principles, the future becomes visible to us through the lens of their evolution. I have taken to saying that “holy moments join the past and future through a conduit of love”. That’s the basis of the old adage about “women’s intuition”. I’m hoping (closer to expecting?) that people like Ethan find it readily available to them.


The old adage “If you don’t know where you’re going, any road will do” applies to religion as well as to any other human endeavor. In fact, in the case of religion, the implications are particularly acute.

The process of religion has a character much like that of the scientific method, with the exception that the demonstrations of its principles – avatars such as Jesus of Nazareth, Clara Barton, Lao-Tzu and Buddha – are exceptional manifestations that cannot be produced by rote method. There are no factories for people of grace. They are called into existence through channels in time opened by exceptional human need.

Lacking any understanding of mechanisms, theosophists (those that speculate on the soul and its relationship with the divine) have typically resorted to monotheistic escalation. Their reasoning is roughly as follows: exceptional experiences that overwhelm the material status quo must have their origination in superior principles. That those principles hold sway indicates that they must be free of corrupting influences, and so superior in their own realm. If they are superior, their influence must be inescapable and complete. Ultimately, Dao, Brahman, God, Allah and all others are ceded control over all aspects of reality.

There are three strategies of religious practice allowed in the psychology of this relationship between infinitesimal humanity and infinite deity. The first is paralysis – trust in the Divine, and await its deliverance. The second is passivity – study the Divine, with the hope of emulating it, but assert no independent will. The third, most dangerous path, is to follow someone that asserts superior understanding, with the hope of achieving enlightenment.

The third path is dangerous because, when coupled with wealth, the assertion of spiritual authority is backed by means for suppressing cautionary voices.

I have been negotiating with a subset of self-proclaimed religious “authorities” over the last decade. The process has developed as a series of manifestations of the power of unconditional love, and attempts to communicate principles and mechanisms that would, as Jesus promised, enable a disciplined practitioner do “greater works than these”. The disciplines are those described most directly in Daoism, but mirrored also in Buddhism: surrender of self-concern and commitment to the manifestation of harmony in the realm of our influence.

What has become clear through those experiences is that the process will proceed only through dis-intermediation. Purveyors of mystery will not exchange their mysteries for understanding.

So what I have to offer here is an antidote to religious speculation. I am going to attack confusion by offering a model of religious experience, and use it to elucidate the recorded history of the lives of our spiritual avatars. I am going to attempt to place their lives in the context of the evolution of Human Nature, and offer my sense as to how that process is going to unfold over the next 40 years.

Involvement in the process is inescapable. Paralysis and passivity are not viable options. The only way out of the bind Humanity faces is for some number of us to learn to recognize the “still, small voice” inside of us, and let it guide us as we re-organize the broken reality that will come to surround us.

In the service of that process, I am going to clear the air. I am going to winnow from religious teaching expedience in the service of priestly and political authority. Names will not be named. Social policies will not be promulgated. The only thing on offer here will be the antidote to hypocrisy: truth in the service of spiritual liberation.