How Much is Enough Knowledge?

Once a month book a retreat day into my diary – a Friday with no appointments in it, a glorious blank page. This month I handed the entire day over to reading. I moved between my Tricycle magazine, Greta Thunberg’s new ‘The Climate Book’, and a book of essays by Pure Land teacher Nobuo Haneda.

By the end of the day I was aware of a slightly smug part of me. This part felt proud that I was filled up with new knowledge – depressing climate statistics, facts about the Buddhist Wheel of Life paintings, and some new ways of thinking about Pure Land theology.

I got curious about this part of me. Why was it so pleased that I had crammed my brain with information? What did it think I might receive as a result – would I be seen as a ‘better Buddhist’ by my colleagues or by parts of myself? Would I reach enlightenment more quickly? Would I become more skillful in my daily life, or maybe even happier?

Secondary faculties

In my last Buddhist organisation we studied a commentary of Honen’s One Sheet Document. It said that saying the nembutsu, the name of Amida Buddha, was the only necessary practice. It also talked about secondary faculties, which are the skills and knowledge we build up by studying the Dharma.

The commentary said that these secondary faculties are helpful as a means of pointing other people towards the Dharma, but for that purpose only. They don’t get us to the Pure Land (or enlightenment) any more quickly, and they don’t make us any more valuable or loved. We are told very clearly by Honen and by other great Pure Land teachers that Amida already loves us just as we are.

It is a great relief to remember this. If I never picked up a Dharma book again, that would be absolutely fine with Amida Buddha. They don’t need me to have a head full of knowledge. They don’t need me to be seen as clever by my students, colleagues or teachers. They don’t need me to understand the finer points of obscure Buddhist theology, or to have read the books all the other Buddhists are reading. They are happy that I have taken refuge in them. They are happy that my taking refuge results in the side-effect of me being ever-so-slightly kinder. They also see all my self-protective unskillful behaviour, and they forgive me.

The joys of knowledge

Shedding these layers of ‘ought’ and ‘self-building’ leaves me with a different conclusion about my day of reading. I read because I was interested in what these different wise people were saying, and I wanted to know more. I enjoyed rolling the taste of the new knowledge around in my brain, and comparing it to what I already knew. I even savoured the bubbles of climate grief that rose up, knowing that it is appropriate to feel it, and that this grief connects me to our beautiful planet.

I can accumulate knowledge because I enjoy knowledge. I can think deeply about doctrinal matters because I am interested in them, and I want to make sense of things. None of this is necessary. Maybe I’ll use some of it whilst pointing others towards their own experience of the Dharma, and maybe not. Either way, I am enough without the knowledge, and I can choose to pick up books with complete freedom. What a joy!

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Do you ever feel like you ought to ‘know more’ in order to be a ‘proper Buddhist’? Tell me about your experience in the comments!