Buddhism and Christianity

Episode 47 of the Secular Buddhism Podcast

Hello. You are listening to the Secular Buddhism Podcast, and this is episode number 47. I'm your host, Noah Rasheta. Today I'm talking about Buddhism and Christianity—specifically, the similarities and differences between these two traditions.

Introduction

In this podcast episode, I want to explore Buddhism and Christianity with regard to their similarities and differences. When I teach workshops about Buddhism, it's almost inevitable that someone will come up to me afterward and ask about the major differences or similarities between these two traditions.

This is a question that really can't be answered accurately in that moment or in that setting, because there are a lot of things to address. So I've decided to dedicate this specific podcast episode to the question. I hope this will clarify a few things. I'm excited to address this topic because I myself live in a community that's very Christian, and I'm in a mixed-faith marriage with a mixed-faith family. So this is a dynamic that I think is important to understand for anyone interested in following the Buddhist path or the contemplative path—to understand how that works in comparison with Christianity.

Three Important Clarifications

Before I jump in, I want to clarify three important things. These are essential notes about this topic.

First clarification: This is not a presentation about which tradition is right or which one is better. Remember the quote I share all the time by the 14th Dalai Lama: "Do not try to use what you learn from Buddhism to be a Buddhist. Use it to be a better whatever you already are." This is especially relevant in this podcast episode. We're talking about paths, and in what ways these paths are similar or perhaps different. But we're not saying which path is right, which one is better, or which one will get you there faster. It doesn't work that way, and I'll explain that as I address these things.

Second clarification: This is like comparing apples and pears. In many ways, this topic is like a comparison of apples and pears. They're both fruit, but they're not the same thing. To further complicate it, there's not one single apple. There's not one single pear. For apples, you have Gala apples, Fujis, Honeycrisps—some are red, some are green. You've got Granny Smiths, and so on. It's the same with pears. You've got the Anjou pear, the Bartlett pear, the Concorde pear—different kinds of pears.

Likewise, there's not one Christianity, and there's not one Buddhism. So I'm not too concerned with trying to address any specific doctrinal differences or similarities, because you're already going to have that just between the various forms of the same overarching topic. Just within Christianity alone, like you have the Gala apple, the Fiji apple, the Honeycrisp apple, you're going to have these differences: Mormonism versus Catholicism versus Protestantism. You're going to have that already. And this happens on the Buddhism side as well, with the various forms or schools of Buddhism.

In a general, overall sense, I will address some of the differences that I think make sense to be discussed.

Third clarification: I'm not an authority on Buddhism or on Christianity. I certainly have a background with both. My background with Christianity comes from Mormonism and Catholicism. I attended middle school and high school at private Catholic schools where religion classes were mandatory. I attended Mass often, as it was required. Half of my family on one side is Catholic, and the other side is a mix of many things. My family converted to Mormonism when I was young—I was about three years old.

I grew up attending the LDS Church and attended what we call seminary, which is a four-year religious program. Then I served a full-time two-year religious mission in Ecuador, preaching and sharing the Mormon message. After that, I attended weekly institute of religion courses in college for another three years, until I got married.

On the Buddhist side, I started studying Buddhism on my own about seven years ago. One of my first encounters with Buddhism was through a video series by Jay Garfield called "The Meaning of Life: Perspectives From the World's Great Intellectual Traditions." It offered a wide exploration of what various spiritual, religious, and philosophical traditions—from both East and West—have contributed to that big question: What is the meaning of life?

The Buddhist answer to that question was unique. It turned the question around and said, "Well, who wants to know?" That really fascinated me. That was one of my first experiences with Buddhism. The answer wasn't about the answer—it was about looking at the question itself. At that point, I was hooked. I started learning more about the specific tradition on my own. I devoured dozens of books in order to understand everything I could about Buddhist philosophy.

Eventually, I decided to take my studies a step further. I enrolled in a two-year Buddhist ministry program and graduated from that earlier this year. With that, I feel I have a suitable understanding of the topic. And yet I do want to be very clear: I do not officially represent any specific Buddhist tradition. My experience with these topics comes from years of practicing on both of these paths. While I feel that my understanding is experiential in nature, these are simply my opinions, and they may differ from what others will say about this topic.

I'm going to focus mostly on explaining the Buddhist perspective, as that is the tradition that I currently teach and practice. Having said that, let's jump into this topic.

Where They Meet: Both Are Spiritual Paths

You could say that an apple and a pear, while being very different, are still the same thing—they're a fruit. That's about the similarity between Buddhism and Christianity that I see: they're both spiritual paths. But as far as types of paths go, as far as spiritual paths are concerned, there are some differences.

Difference One: Questions Versus Answers

The first difference is thinking about this in terms of questions and answers. This is what I alluded to earlier with my original encounter with Buddhism.

One path focuses more on the answers. I think many spiritual paths focus more on the answers, while Buddhism is a path that focuses on the question. So these are not paths that are fundamentally opposed. When you have two paths that are focused on answers, then you have conflict if the answers aren't the same. If this path says, "The meaning of life is A," and the other path says, "The meaning of life is B," those are two conflicting answers. And if they are, then you have to address that conflict.

Buddhism doesn't necessarily conflict with Christianity on this point, because Buddhism doesn't have an answer for a lot of the existential questions. They're irrelevant. So in my opinion, both traditions can work hand in hand, because of that very reason: one focuses more on the question, and the other focuses more on the answer.

Applying this in my own experience, in my own life, it hasn't necessarily been a big issue interacting with family members in my immediate family or members of the community with regard to these two traditions. My approach doesn't necessarily threaten their answer. If they have an answer, I don't have an answer that conflicts or counters it, saying, "Wait. No. This is the right answer instead."

The Buddhist approach allows me to be introspective and say with the question, "Is there a God?" by asking, "Who wants to know?" That's the part I'm concerned with. Who wants to know, and why do I even feel the need to know the answer to that question? That's where I'll stay. That's where Buddhism typically hovers—on the side of the question. It doesn't get to the other side where the answer is, where you're going to have conflict if the answers are different.

Again, that's in my experience.

Difference Two: The Path Itself Is the Goal

This leads us to the second way that these paths are kind of different: the type of path itself.

Typically, the point of a path is to get from point A to point B—that's why you're on the path. Spiritual traditions are similar. The typical spiritual journey is about getting from point A to point B. Maybe you're in the world, and you're trying to get to heaven—that's point B. The goal is to arrive at a specific place, and that's why the path is there. The path is the tradition.

From the Buddhist perspective, it's also about getting from point A to point B. We refer to point A as a place of suffering, and point B as a place where there is no suffering. We would say samsara and nirvana. Nirvana is that place where you want to go—where you no longer experience suffering.

However, these are not physical places. These are mental states. They exist in the here and now. Therefore, it makes it so that the path itself is the goal. Because if these are mental states, we realize that if we're at point A and we want to be at point B, what we have is this situation where we want life to be other than it is. I'm here, and I don't want to be here. I want to be there, somewhere without this experience of suffering.

What we practice in Buddhism is this form of acceptance. You could say radical acceptance. Tara Brach calls this radical acceptance. What if I was okay with being where I am? This is where I am, and I'm okay with that. I no longer feel this need to arrive at point B.

This is one of the great Buddhist paradoxes. In the very moment of acceptance, I no longer want life to be other than it is. I accept that this is how it is, this is where I am. In that moment, I arrive at the very place that I wanted to be originally. But I get there because I no longer want to get there. That's the paradox of Buddhism.

With that, these paths are not conflicting. Because if the point of the Christian path is to get from point A to point B, and the point of the Buddhist path is to learn to find joy and contentment with wherever you are on the path, then there's no conflict. Again, because the approach is just different.

Difference Three: Internal Versus External

Another overall difference in which they differ is that one tends to be an internal process, and the other tends to be an external process.

Christianity is a theistic tradition. There is an external source—a deity—that's at the helm of everything. From the Buddhist perspective, it's a non-theistic tradition because it's internal. The force that we're contending with is internal. It's our own mind.

The essence of what Buddhism teaches is that instead of running away from suffering and from discomfort, we can learn to face it. We can look deeply into the nature of our own suffering and begin to recognize its cause.

Suffering arises any time we want life to be other than it is. The scale and the intensity may vary according to the situation. For example, the loss of a loved one versus being stuck at a red light when you're late for work—those are very different situations. But at its core, we have a resistance to accepting that moment the way that it is. That's what causes us to suffer.

The overall feeling in any circumstance where we experience suffering is going to be similar. We experience discomfort with the reality that we're faced with. And we suffer because that reality does not conform to the desired or expected reality that we've projected in our minds.

A proper recognition of the causes of our suffering will allow us to understand that there is indeed a path that allows us to transform our suffering. This process is introspective in nature. I can learn to look inward at my own mind—my ideas, my beliefs, my opinions, my concepts that I hold about reality. And I'll discover that I am the key to it all.

This is another big difference with the two traditions. It's not that there's an external source. From the Buddhist perspective, there's an internal source. It's my own mind. It can be my best friend, but it can also be my worst enemy.

You've probably heard that parable of the two wolves that we all have inside of us. One represents things like kindness, bravery, and love. The other represents negative things like hatred and greed. Buddhist teachings speak about suffering in a similar way. The idea is that the things we feed will grow, while the things we don't feed will die.

We have the tendency to look for happiness, peace, and contentment as if these were things outside ourselves. We think, "Once I have this, or once I finally get that, or if I get the raise at work, if I can convince my spouse to be more like me and think like me, or if my family finally accepts me—whatever it is, whatever external circumstance I'm trying to change—then I'll be happy." But we experience suffering because we're wanting life to be other than it is.

What if we could practice acceptance? What if we could accept the moment just as it is? Accept ourselves just as we are, and start to do away with the duality of who I am and who I think I should be? Flipping this toward others, imagine extending that to someone else—allowing someone to just be who they are, rather than who I think they should be, or who we think they should be.

I want to clarify that acceptance in this sense is not the same thing as resignation. This is not resigning to the fact that, "Oh life is this way, so oh well, I can't do anything about it." No. What we're accepting is that this is what is, and I realize there's a lot I can do with that. The moment I realize this is what it is, I can learn to work with reality instead of against it.

I can minimize the suffering that I and others experience on this journey, because I'm working with reality the way that it is.

That's one of the differences again between the two traditions. One focuses on an external source of goodness. There's good and evil, viewed as embodied in these symbols—God on one side and the devil on the other. But these are external.

From the Buddhist perspective, it's all internal. It's like the analogy of the wolves, right? They're both inside of you.

In one of his final teachings, the Buddha said, "Be a light unto yourselves." He taught that our greatest teacher is ourselves. A monk actually asked him, "Buddha, what if we meet you on the path?" And the Buddha replied, "Well, don't accept anyone you meet on the path toward liberation, even if you meet me."

The essence of the spiritual journey from a Buddhist perspective is to realize that you are it. You are your greatest teacher. You are also your worst enemy. In fact, in the Dhammapada, we read: "Whatever harm an enemy may do to an enemy, an ill-directed mind inflicts on oneself a greater harm."

This verse is saying that it's our own mind that can do us worse harm than even an external enemy. The internal enemy is far more dangerous than the external enemy.

While one path may focus a bit more on the external approach, and the other focuses on the internal approach, again I don't see that as being an area where they necessarily conflict. Because they're just different approaches. It's like apples and pears, or apples and oranges. They're just entirely different approaches to the spiritual path.

Finding Peace on Your Own Path

I hope that you can find in yourselves the ability to practice compassion and acceptance for who you are, for who others are, and for where you are and where others are on their individual paths. Rather than thinking, "Hey, this path is working for me. You should also be on that path," we should recognize that if the path is the goal, then there's really no wrong place to be on that path. There's no wrong path to be on, either.

Wherever you go, there you are. You're on the path. You can find that peace, joy, and contentment on your path, and I hope that we can learn to see the uniqueness of every step we take along the way—of whatever path it is that we're on, whatever unique path.

Often, someone will say to me, "Well, isn't it fair to at least recognize that one path may be better than the other, or more suitable than the other?" I would say yes. The answer to that is yes, but it's circumstantial.

Think of an actual path in the forest. There may be a paved path, and there may be a path that's rocky and pretty steep. Now, you could say, "Well, is one path easier to walk than the other?" Maybe, yeah. Is one path easier to roller blade on than the other? Sure.

I may be on the path that's rocky and steep, and find that it's working better for me because it's going to get me to my desired destination faster. But I'm wearing hiking boots, and I've got a pole, and I've got a backpack, and I'm ready for this off-road trail. And you're standing there next to me in flip-flops, and you're saying, "Hey, is that the right path for me?" It may be a matter of saying, "No, with how you are right now, this is not the right path for you. Stay on that path. Stay on the pavement."

I think it becomes really healthy for us when we start to look at these traditions, these paths within these traditions, and recognize that I'm on the path that seems to be working for me. How do I know that? I think it's pretty easy. If you are on a path that brings you joy, contentment, and peace, then you're on a good path. There's no need to change it.

Now, the moment you realize you're not experiencing these things—you're experiencing anguish, discomfort, or it's just not working for you—then why not pause and say, "Well, maybe this isn't the right path for me. Maybe I should try another path and see if this is easier, better for me."

That's how I like to view this. These traditions can support each other. They can influence each other. It's sad to me when I encounter people from either one of these traditions saying, "You can't make these work together. They're fundamentally opposed." I get where that's coming from, because on some levels it does seem like there are views that are incompatible with each other. But I don't think that's necessarily the case when you understand that you can't compare them side-by-side in that way.

Again, using the fruit analogy, it's not really fair to compare an apple and an orange, because they're not the same thing. That's what we face with this, in my opinion.

Living in Mixed-Faith Communities

I mentioned before that many of us live in communities where we don't necessarily share the same beliefs. I am in a mixed-faith family, a mixed-faith marriage. I know what it's like firsthand to be walking a path while simultaneously making it work with someone else who's walking on another path.

I know that it can work, because it's working for us. I see it working for a lot of people who are on different paths.

An important part of it is recognizing that all paths are valid. Now, I get that I can be on a path, someone else might be on another path, and that path does not validate my path. I get that. But it shouldn't bother me to know that they don't think I'm on the right path.

It's like, "Okay, well then you don't think I'm on the right path." Why would that disrupt the peace, contentment, and joy that I have on my own path? If I truly view my path as unique, and everyone's path is unique, then it shouldn't bother me that someone else is going to look and say, "Hey, you're on the wrong path." Of course they're going to think that. If they're on a path that indicates that there's only one path, then of course they're going to think you're on the wrong path. But why should that be problematic? Why should it be problematic for you, whatever path you're on?

Now, it may be problematic for them. Because by the very fact of thinking that they're on the right one and you're on the wrong one, they're the ones experiencing suffering. They think, "Oh no, this person I care for is on the wrong path." But that's them. You are on your path, and you can find that contentment and joy knowing that this is the path that's working for you, even if others don't approve it, understand it, or validate it.

That's a whole different topic that I don't really want to go into in this specific podcast episode. But it's something worth looking at if you're experiencing that thinking: "Why do I feel that I can't be validated on my path until someone else validates me?" That's something worth exploring, because what you'll find within introspection—again, this is looking at the question, not the answer—is worth asking. Why do I need you to validate me for me to feel comfortable on my path?

Look at that. Explore that in yourself, and you may find that that also becomes irrelevant.

So again, these traditions can support each other. I think it's perfectly acceptable to have someone who's on one path use elements of another path to benefit them on whatever path they're on. Looking for the good that other paths have, using the ideas and concepts that others have as tools to help us alleviate the suffering in ourselves and others on our own path—I think that's a noble thing. That's something we can do when we start to view our own path as our own path.

It's one thing to think, "I'm on the right path," but it's another to think that mine is the only right path. See, it can be right for me and wrong for you. That's very different than thinking, "If it's right for me, then it must also be right for you." I think that can be very powerful—to have that view of paths.

Conclusion

That's all I have for this topic. I know that there's so much that can be covered here. We could go into specific differences in doctrinal views of reality and the world, but I don't think that's necessary. You can study all that on your own. Read books about whatever path you're on. Study it. Learn it. Be familiar with it. But I would invite you to explore it at a level where you ask yourself, "Is this path working for me?" Because if it is, don't disrupt it. Just stay on that path.

That's all I have. So if you enjoyed this podcast episode, please share it with others, write a review, and give it a rating on iTunes. If you'd like to make a donation to support the work that I'm doing with this podcast, please visit SecularBuddhism.com. That's all I have for now, but I do look forward to recording another podcast episode soon.

Until next time.

For more about the Secular Buddhism Podcast and Noah Rasheta's work, visit SecularBuddhism.com