Tag Archives: funeral

Buddhist Funerals

Question:

Can you advise me please; what is a Buddhist’s preference when he/she passes: burial or cremation? Is it an individual choice or more like the Catholics who lean toward burial. I’d appreciate your comments on my question.

Answer:

Generally speaking, it doesn’t matter. Historically, cremation is usually the procedure, but that’s just the tradition in the East. In India, along the Ganges river, it is tradition to cremate the body and throw the ashes in the river. Holy men would be “buried at sea” in the river itself. Over thousands of years, this has built up to the point where the Ganges is one of the most heavily polluted rivers in the world.

A Buddhist spends his or her life trying to escape the confines and the limitations and suffering of the human body. When they finally leave the body, what is left is like the prison after the prisoner has finally escaped.

A dead body is just a shell, dispose of it however you want.

Koan: Shoun & His Mother

Koan: Shoun & His Mother

Shoun became a teacher of Soto Zen. When he was still a student his father passed away, leaving him to care for his old mother.

Whenever Shoun went to a meditation hall he always took his mother with him. Since she accompanied him, when he visited monasteries he could not live with the monks. So he would built a little house and care for her there. He would copy sutras, Buddhist verses, and in this manner receive a few coins for food.

When Shoun bought fish for his mother, the people would scoff at him, fo a monk is not supposed to eat fish. But Shoun did not mind. His mother, however, was hurt to see others laugh at her son. Finally she told Shoun: “I think I will become a nun. I can be vegetarian too.” She did, and they studied together.

Shoun was fond of music and was a master of the harp, which his mother also played. On full-moon nights they used to play together. One night a young lady passed by their house and heard music. Deeply touched, she invited Shoun to visit her the next evening and play. He accepted the invitation. A few days later he met the young lady on the street and thanked her for her hospitality. Others laughed at him. He had visited the house of a woman of the streets.

One day Shoun left for a distant temple to deliver a lecture. A few months afterwards he returned home to find his mother dead. Friends had not known where to reach him, so the funeral was in progress.

Shoun walked up and hit the coffin with his staff. “Mother, your son has returned,” he said.

“I am glad to see you have returned, son,” he answered for his mother.

“Yes, I am glad too,” Shoun responded. Then he announced to the people about him: “The funeral ceremony is over. You may bury the body.”

When Shoun was old he knew his end was approaching. He asked his disciples to gather around him in the morning, telling them he was going to pass on at noon. Burning incense before the picture of his mother and his old teacher, he wrote a poem:

For fifty-six years I lived as best I could,
Making my way in this world.
Now the rain has ended, the clouds are clearing,
The blue sky has a full moon.

His disciples gathered around him, reciting sutra, and Shoun passed on during the invocation.

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