Thomas Merton (1915–1968)

"Zen enriches no one," Thomas Merton provocatively writes in his opening statement to Zen and the Birds of Appetite—one of the last books to be published before his death in 1968. "There is no body to be found. The birds may come and circle for a while... but they soon go elsewhere. When they are gone, the 'nothing,' the 'no-body' that was there, suddenly appears. That is Zen. It was there all the time but the scavengers missed it, because it was not their kind of prey." This gets at the show more humor, paradox, and joy that one feels in Merton's discoveries of Zen during the last years of his life, a joy very much present in this collection of essays. Exploring the relationship between Christianity and Zen, especially through his dialogue with the great Zen teacher D.T. Suzuki, the book makes an excellent introduction to a comparative study of these two traditions, as well as giving the reader a strong taste of the mature Merton. Never does one feel him losing his own faith in these pages; rather one feels that faith getting deeply clarified and affirmed. Just as the body of "Zen" cannot be found by the scavengers, so too, Merton suggests, with the eternal truth of Christ. show less

Let me start by saying that I admire Thomas Merton (1915-1968), a Catholic Priest who was open-minded enough to read about Taoism, the subject of this book, as well as other Asian philosophies and religions. Instead of being threatened by other paths to enlightenment, he found similarities to his own path, and embraced them.

As he says in the introduction, “the ‘way’ contained in these anecdotes, poems, and meditations, is characteristic of a certain mentality found everywhere in the show more world, a certain taste for simplicity, for humility, self-effacement, silence, and in general a refusal to take seriously the aggressivity, the ambition, the push, and the self-importance which one must display in order to get along in society. This other is a ‘way’ that prefers not to get anywhere in the world, or even in the field of some supposedly spiritual attainment.”

He was counter to what is wrong with so many religious figures, he was not dogmatic, and did not profess to have all the answers. Again, from his introduction: “In any event, the ‘way’ of Chuang Tzu is mysterious because it is so simple that it can get along without being a way at all. Least of all is it a ‘way out.’ Chuang Tzu would have agreed with St. John of the Cross, that you enter upon this kind of way when you leave all ways and, in some sense, get lost.”

What a refreshing outlook. The collection of passages here is quite nice, and with most of them fitting on one or two pages, it’s very easy to pick up and revisit my favorites, some of which I extract below.

Quotes:
On opinions:
“The wise man … sees that on both sides of every argument there is both right and wrong. He also sees that in the end they are reducible to the same thing, once they are related to the pivot of Tao.
When the wise man grasps this pivot, he is in the center of the circle, and there he stands while ‘Yes’ and ‘No’ pursue each other around the circumference.
The pivot of Tao passes through the center where all affirmations and denials converge. He who grasps the pivot is at the still-point from which all movements and oppositions can be seen in their right relationship. Hence he sees the limitless possibilities of both ‘Yes’ and ‘No’. Abandoning all thought of imposing a limit or taking sides, he rests in direct intuition.”

On sincerity:
“The greatest politeness
Is free of all formality.
Perfect conduct
Is free of concern.
Perfect wisdom
Is unplanned.
Perfect love
Is without demonstrations.
Perfect sincerity offers
No guarantee.”

On theft, calling to mind Dylan’s “steal a little and they throw you in jail, steal a lot and they make you king”:
“A poor man must swing
For stealing a belt buckle
But if a rich man steals a whole state
He is acclaimed
As statesman of the year.”

On the ‘true man’, or perhaps better put, on enlightenment:
“The true men of old were not afraid
When they stood alone in their views.
No great exploits. No plans.
If they failed, no sorrow.
No self-congratulations in success.
They scaled cliffs, never dizzy,
Plunged in water, never wet,
Walked through fire and were not burnt.
Thus their knowledge reached all the way
To Tao.
…
Minds free, thoughts gone
Brows clear, faces serene.
Were they cool? Only cool as autumn.
Were they hot? No hotter than spring.
All that came out of them
Came quiet, like the four seasons.”

And this one:
“The man in whom Tao
Acts without impediment
Harms no other being
By his actions
Yet he does not know himself
To be ‘kind,’ to be ‘gentle.’
The man in whom Tao
Acts without impediment
Does not bother with his own interests
And does not despise
Others who do.
He does not struggle to make money
And does not make a virtue of poverty.
He goes his way
Without relying on others
And does not pride himself
On walking alone.
While he does not follow the crowd
He won’t complain of those who do.
Rank and reward
Make no appeal to him;
Disgrace and shame
Do not deter him.
He is not always looking
For right and wrong
Always deciding ‘Yes’ or ‘No.’
The ancients said, therefore:
’The man of Tao
Remains unknown
Perfect virtue
Produces nothing
‘No-self’
Is ‘True-Self.’
And the greatest man
Is nobody.’”

Lastly, this parable:
“There was a man who was so disturbed by the sight of his own shadow and so displeased with his own footsteps that he determined to get rid of both. The method he hit upon was to run away from them.
So he got up and ran. But every time he put his foot down there was another step, while his shadow kept up with him without the slightest difficulty.
He attributed his failure to the fact that he was not running fast enough. So he ran faster and faster, without stopping, until he finally dropped dead.
He failed to realize that if he merely stepped into the shade, his shadow would vanish, and if he sat down and stayed still, there would be no more footsteps.” show less

Thoughtful and eloquent, as timely (or timeless) now as when it was originally published in 1956, Thoughts in Solitude addresses the pleasure of a solitary life, as well as the necessity for quiet reflection in an age when so little is private. Thomas Merton writes: "When society is made up of men who know no interior solitude it can no longer be held together by love: and consequently it is held together by a violent and abusive authority. But when men are violently deprived of the solitude show more and freedom which are their due, the society in which they live becomes putrid, it festers with servility, resentment and hate." show less

Merton's somewhat haphazard take on Faulkner is nevertheless quite interesting as he shows insights into Faulkner's work that would do Oliver Billingslea proud. While mentioning works that the doesn't think are appropriate for his audience of monks, Merton expresses his appreciation for Faulkner frankly and with humor, including many quotes from The Bear, The Wild Palms, and The Sound and the Fury, which are the subjects of these lectures. It makes no sense to look at Faulkner apart from the show more religion the South that infuses his stories, and Merton provides an excellent perspective. It's too bad he didn't live long enough to write the book on Faulkner he was contemplating. show less