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Faith Beyond Faith - Gil Fronsdal

The following talk was given by Gil Fronsdal at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on December 11, 2023. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

Faith Beyond Faith

Today I want to talk about a topic which may or may not be popular, and that topic is faith. Some people love this topic; for some people, just the word raises alarm. I do hope that in the course of the talk, it will inspire something in you.

There's a number of steps that we're going to go through. The first is going to be linguistic—what word are we talking about? What do we mean when we use the word faith? An important aspect of this is that for people who don't speak Pali¹ and didn't grow up with this ancient Buddhist language, part of the engagement as we try to understand this tradition is that we get to make parts of it for ourselves. We get to understand, construct, and personalize the religion in some very deep and important way.

However, if you want to be engaged in Buddhism, it's not simply your personal opinion or whatever you'd like it to be. There is something which has integrity to it, which is Buddhism itself. But what is that? What is it that you get to personalize in some very important way, and what is it that you can't quite personalize and still call it Buddhism? That's part of the journey of this talk as we go into this word, "faith."

The Meaning of Faith

To begin with a story: before the Buddha was awakened, when he was still Gotama seeking awakening and the end of suffering, he practiced with different teachers. He perfected what they had to teach, and they actually wanted him to be a teacher in their systems. He said, "No, this is not it yet." But he made this very interesting statement: "These teachers have a certain faith, and I have faith. So I think I can go off and do it by myself."

He wasn't enlightened yet. There was no Buddha in the world yet to have faith in. There were no Buddhist teachings to have faith in. Yet he used the word "faith"; that's something he had. It wasn't a belief in something, but it was a confidence. Was it in himself? Was it in something that wasn't quite himself? What did he mean by the word faith?

The word he was using in Pali is saddhā², and in Sanskrit—some of you from an Indian background may know it more as śraddhā³. How do we translate this word into English? Some translators do not use the word "faith", often for good reason. The most common alternative they use is "confidence", and sometimes people use the word "trust". Those are the three primary words.

But the word "faith" in English has a wide, rich range of meanings, some of which have wonderfully evocative, heartfelt emotional qualities that the word "confidence" doesn't have. As important as confidence is, I think for most people it doesn't necessarily evoke a deep feeling of heartfelt trust or something really inspiring in the heart.

The other word that's often associated with faith in English is "belief". What's fascinating about the word "belief" is its history. It comes from the Old English and German word lief, which meant "to love". Scholars of medieval religion say that there was no questioning whether you believed or didn't believe in God in 10th or 12th-century Germany or France; it was just taken for granted. When you said you believed in God, what you were saying was, "I love God." There's a different feeling there: "This is where I put my love." So to believe is not an act of mere credence—like, "I have to accept these teachings as being true." That's maybe not the original idea of belief. It meant, "This is where I put my love."

If faith and belief are related, is there something about faith that says, "This is where I put my love; this is where I put my heartfelt feeling of value, appreciation, and delight"? We use the word faith in many fascinating ways in English. "Keep the faith" partly means to keep the commitment, keep your appreciation of something, and keep going with it. Being "faithful" to something means not betraying it—staying true to the commitment. It's more than having confidence.

If you keep translating saddhā as "confidence", you lose a sense of love, commitment, loyalty, and fidelity. "Fidelity" shares the same Latin roots as faith, meaning a kind of loyalty. All these words have different meanings and associations for every individual. There's an expression in English: "a person of faith". For me, that just makes me happy when I hear that phrase; for others of you, it probably frightens you. It all depends on our associations.

For me, a person of faith is someone who holds certain fundamental values of goodness. It is not about what they believe, but rather that they are ethical. When I meet a person of faith, I expect a high level of moral goodness in how they go through the world. I think of them as someone who is gentle, not assertive or domineering—having a gentle willingness to be of service from their love.

Translating Faith for Yourself

What do these words mean for you? That's where you get to make it up. You get to take this ancient word, saddhā, which is very important in Buddhism, and decide for yourself: What is the English word that works for you, inspires you, and is meaningful and useful to have? If translating it as "faith" is not useful for you, don't translate it that way. When well-meaning Buddhist teachers use the word "faith", just code-switch and think, "Okay, that person said faith, so I'm going to use confidence."

Teachers who like to use "confidence" for saddhā really want to emphasize practice. You want to have confidence that this is something you can do. Just like learning any kind of skill, it helps to have confidence. Buddhist practice involves developing skills, so emphasizing confidence means, "Okay, I can do it. I'm going to engage."

Some people like "trust". There are plenty of times in my Buddhist career where I preferred to translate saddhā as trust. There was something profound that I really felt I could rest in or rely on that would support me. One of the primary things that I trust fundamentally, which has come from doing this practice, is mindfulness itself. It's not a belief, but a capacity, a practice, or a way of being that I just trust more than anything else because it has proven reliable over and over again.

And then there's the word "belief". Now that you know that belief originally meant "to love", maybe you want to translate faith as something to do with love—where we put our heart. It's a heartfelt willingness to rely on something. In the ancient Buddhist tradition, faith was more a quality of character than an action that we do. It points to something deeper than how we usually think about "having faith in something". Rather, it is a faculty that we have, that we can awaken. What is that? What would it be for you? This is a part of Buddhism you get to personalize.

The Buddha's Faith and Facing Fear

When the Buddha, before he awakened, said, "I have saddhā," that gave him the trust, confidence, and love to go off and practice. Another story the Buddha tells from before he was awakened is how he dealt with fear. He had fear! Isn't that nice to know? Some of you probably have occasional fear and anxiety, and so did the Buddha. He had to practice with his fear.

Many of the Buddhist practitioners in his time went off into the forest to practice alone. Some came along to the Buddha and said, "It's frightening to go into the forest and practice, isn't it? You can't get concentrated in the forest." The Buddha said, "Before I was awakened, I went into the forest too, and practiced. But before I did, I checked myself out to make sure I was prepared."

He asked himself: "Do I have any sensual desire that's going to make it difficult to be in the forest alone?" If you're lusting after a person all the time, you're not going to get concentrated. "No." "Do I have any ill will, any resentments left over?" "No." "Do I have any resistance, or ways in which I'm caught or frozen in my fear?" "No." "Do I have any agitation or regrets?" "No." "Do I have any doubt?" "No." Anyone who has these things would probably be afraid when they go into the forest.

Then he makes an interesting statement: "Do I have any alarm or terror?" He said, "No, I'm not an alarmist, and I don't get terrorized by things." What he was doing was checking himself out. Maybe if he had those things, he would have realized, "I have to work through these first." He'd go to a therapist, you know, if he was in modern America [Laughter]—who can be very helpful for these things—or start basic meditation practice, because that's what we're working through. At some point, he was ready to go into the forest, and in fact, he was afraid.

He gives a delightful description of his fear: "On especially auspicious nights, I dwelt in awe-inspiring, horrifying abodes, such as orchard shrines, woodland shrines, and tree shrines. And while I dwelt there, a wild animal would come upon me, or a peacock would knock off a branch, or a wind would rustle the leaves." I remember backpacking by myself, miles from anyone, dark in my little tent, and there were "monsters" walking and crunching leaves around me. Crunch, snap. If it was daytime, the rustling of leaves wouldn't do anything to me, but in the dark, there were times when I couldn't sleep.

How did the Buddha deal with his fear while practicing alone in the dark? Whatever posture he was in, he stayed in that posture and was mindful and present for it. By staying present, not giving into it, not running away, and not collapsing around it, he stayed with it in a dignified way and somehow worked through it. He was prepared and ready to sit and be truly present for fear when it arose. Are we prepared for it?

The Imperfections of the Mind

It is not a coincidence that the Buddha checked himself out this way. What he had worked through points to what Buddhism is ultimately about. This is the part of Buddhism that you're not supposed to change; the part you have to accept as very important if you want to engage in Buddhism. The emotional qualities the Buddha associates with faith are calmness, clarity, and confidence. It's not about being a zealot; it helps you be profoundly peaceful. To reach this level of faith, there is a fidelity, a loyalty, and a commitment to something more than belief. It is a commitment to something that might be in you, but isn't necessarily who you think you are.

What is this core confidence that the Buddha is pointing to? What is it that's possible for us to experience and grow into? This next part might seem a little bit boring, so you are forewarned, but it is also phenomenally important. Listen to it as if it's a guided meditation where the key words are pointing to something deep inside of you—a possibility that, if you could do it thoroughly, would be transformative. You don't have to believe anything; there are no creeds to have faith in.

In the teachings, the Buddha states: "There are these imperfections that defile the mind⁴." Some of you don't like the word "defile". You get to make up parts of your Buddhism by choosing how you translate these words into English. Maybe you wouldn't translate it as defile. But he says: "Covetousness and unrighteous greed is an imperfection that soils the mind. Ill will soils the mind. Anger soils the mind. Resentment, contempt, insolence, envy, avarice, deceit, fraud, obstinacy, rivalry, conceit, arrogance, vanity, and negligence are imperfections that defile the mind."

What a list! Did you get bored? No, you're on the edge of your seats! [Laughter] There are these things that he says soil the mind. Now imagine a world where humans didn't have this. Imagine really knowing and trusting someone who has none of this. What would that be like? Imagine if this was actually the common denominator of all religions, all political parties, of all "-isms": Let's not be covetous. Let's not have greed. Let's work through our ill will, anger, resentment, and contempt. Let's find a way not to be insolent, envious, avaricious, deceitful, fraudulent, obstinate, rivalrous, conceited, arrogant, vain, or negligent. Wouldn't it be a different world? There would be a revolutionary change in our societies if we all agreed: "We're not going to argue about what you believe or your political stance, provided we all agree on this." Wouldn't that be good?

The Freedom of Abandonment

These are the things that soil the mind. But then comes the exciting part. Knowing that covetousness and greed is an imperfection that soils the mind, a person abandons it. Knowing ill will, one abandons it. Knowing each of these things, one abandons it. That's pretty good. But then comes the even better part: once it's been abandoned, you have a mind and heart in which those things are not present.

When a practitioner knows that greed has been abandoned, knows ill will has been abandoned, knows the absence of resentment, envy, hostility, and rivalry—and really knows that absence—it is not an abstract cognitive idea. What is the embodied, heart-and-mind experience of not having that agitation, contraction, and pressure? What is that absence like? Wow. That is peaceful. That is settled. That is a relief.

I've known people who have held resentments for years, whose life policy for decades has been to be angry. They carried it with them the whole time. I've known people whose driving force in life has been desire and greed. What a relief to finally have these powerful forces not operating! To know this possibility for oneself and to experience that kind of peace provides an unshakable, unwavering confidence in that possibility.

The literal meaning in Pali for this kind of faith means "confidence based on knowing"⁵. You know something for yourself. It's not based on trusting a book or trusting me; it's trusting what you have actually experienced for yourself. If you have that, the Buddha says you can have real confidence in the Buddha, the Dharma, and the Sangha—in Buddhism. At its foundation, Buddhism is not about a belief, but about becoming free of these things that soil the mind. Not only is this the common denominator of Buddhist teachings, it is the purpose of Buddhist teachings.

It's not a "glorious" ultimate. You don't go to a block party, get asked about the purpose of your Buddhism, and say, "Oh, the purpose is to be free of covetous greed, anger, and envy." By the time you finish the list, they've already walked away, or they feel sorry for you because their ultimate is cosmic consciousness or some grand, glorious, sexy kind of thing. [Laughter] But these are great spiritual states. These are the doors that open so that we can truly have love, compassion, and care for each other. We might not make a flashy impression on our neighbors, but that's actually a good thing. We don't want to hold Buddhism up as being "too special", because that's one of the ways of soiling the mind (conceit).

Unwavering Confidence

Do we have faith in this possibility—the freedom and absence of these painful states of mind—and living in the world based on them? Is this something you want to trust? Is this something you want to have fidelity and loyalty to? Does this have such great value that you're committed to it and won't give it up too lightly or easily? You're not going to come along and decide, "Yes, this non-anger thing is good, but now I'm justified to be angry. Non-greed is pretty good, but this thing is so good it's okay for me to be greedy for it."

Fidelity is a commitment to something we've discovered for ourselves. We've known a feeling of being clean inside, cleansed of the things that soil, pressure, and hurt us. To feel the beauty, the relief, the goodness, and the wonderfulness of it—to feel its value—means saying, "I'm not going to give this up easily." There are forces inside of me that want to give those up; anger, greed, and envy can still be there. But I've experienced the absence of them, and I'm committed to that freedom. I'm not going to lose myself to these other forces. How am I going to do that? I'm going to practice. I might not be a perfect practitioner, but at least I have a practice. I'm faithful to the practice and trying to stay close to what's important.

How do we make this so important that it becomes the most important thing in your life? More important than your family, for example? One way is to appreciate that, with this freedom as a foundation, your love and care for your family will be so much greater. All these defilements get in the way. So you can safely tell your family, "I have something that's more important than you" (hopefully told in the right way!), and because of it, you actually have so much more love available than you ever could have if those states remained in you. What a nice trade-off! It's much better than saying, "No, I want you to be angry and greedy because I want to be the most important person for you." [Laughter]

In Buddhism, faith, confidence, trust, and commitment are important, but you are asked to know what that is for yourself. It's a potential that you have. I hope you are inspired by that potential. I hope it gives you a real foundation upon which to live. If we do this, it is a revolutionary act. If we want a peaceful world—especially nowadays when there is so much horrific war going on—peace has to begin with us. We can't only expect other people to create world peace. This teaching points the way.

May each of us be free of covetousness, greed, ill will, anger, resentment, contempt, insolence, envy, avarice, deceit, fraud, obstinacy, rivalry, conceit, arrogance, vanity, and carelessness. You get to make up part of Buddhism for yourself, but if it's Buddhist, there's a part you can't make up, and that's your heart's freedom. May you be free. Thank you very much.