Part of my journey this semester of exploring the world’s religions from a personal perspective is to try to better myself as a person. Most of the religious traditions of the world claim to have an understanding of true human nature, and therefore have developed moral and ethical guidelines. The laws of probability state that I should eventually find a rule or a code of behavior that will make me a better person.
One almost universal religious viewpoint that seems to be the shining aspect of humanity’s true self is its ability to fight. Now, I know what you are thinking. Fighting can and has caused some of the world’s worst atrocities, most of which are too horrible to mention. But there is a bright side to the fighting spirit. It causes us to excel, creating within us the desire to be stronger and therefore more able to succeed. This then leads to better health, better technology and better selves. In fact, the will to fight can be better described as the spirit of self-improvement. Now, this purported truth can be expressed either morally or immorally.
I want to talk about fighting’s moral rendition, specifically from the Jain perspective. Jainism is a religion that was founded in India around the same time as Buddhism, and like its chronological brother, it has principles such as karma and rebirth based on the many religious concepts prevalent in India at the time.
The reason I have chosen to convert to Jainism this week is because there exists within it a superficial contradiction. As far as I am concerned, Jains are some of the strongest fighters in the world. Their religious beliefs, however, dictate a non-violent stance, almost to the extreme. But can these traits co-exist? If Macs and PCs can be in the same commercial, then fighting and non-violence can be in the same faith.
Jainism’s non-violent stance is so powerful that not only has it influenced the likes of Gandhi, but it has also shaped the entire outward expression of their religion. Allow me to tell you about my one day as a Jain. I had an appointment with an adviser at Career Services to help me look for a job. When asked what fields I was considering, I had to explain some of the restrictions: I couldn’t be a farmer because that would cause violence to the earth. I couldn’t be a blacksmith or carpenter for fear of hurting metal or wood. I couldn’t be a butcher because of the pain I would cause animals — plus, all Jains are vegetarians. Nor could I do manual labor because that would hurt my back.
I explained to the adviser that the safest profession for me was mercantilism. I could deal with products made from violence as long as I wasn’t the one to cause the pain.
But why all this non-violence, you ask? Well, let me explain by telling a funny little anecdote from the following day. Because I couldn’t really do much as a Jain, I decided to give up the whole job-search thing and just become a Jain monk. The non-violent measures I had to take were even more extreme. I couldn’t walk at night so that I wouldn’t step on a bug. I had to wear a veil over my mouth so that I wouldn’t hurt the air. I could not bathe so that I wouldn’t hurt the water or germs. And I had to walk around naked because pain caused by creating clothing (Also, my fashion sense is terrible so I hurt clothes even after they are made). I looked like Michael Jackson seven years in the future — it was quite fun actually. But the purpose of it all was to accumulate less karma.
Unlike Buddhism, in Jainism, karma is the enemy we fight. It is the purpose of all our actions and the reason for our beliefs. Karma is literally tiny bits of matter that weigh down our souls so we cannot escape the earthly realm of rebirth. By releasing our souls from karma, they can experience the unadulterated bliss for all eternity.
My fight against karma wasn’t following the non-violent restrictions. Non-violent actions only help to accumulate less detrimental karma. As a monk, I undertook self-deprecating acts of self-induced suffering — the only known way of dissipating karma. Though, this isn’t as horrific as it might seem. It is no different than a hunger strike or a fast. It is a means of self-expression, a way to fight against the evils of the world without fighting violently. Hopefully, this lesson will make me a better person.
Nicholas Shaman, a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. He can be reached at [email protected]