Guarding the House of Truth

(The sermon begins with a gentle smile. Jesus the Zennist steps forward, holding a single piece of paper, and looks out at the gathered people with warmth.)

Beloved friends, "elect lady and her children," which, as far as I can tell, means every last one of us. We are all "elect," chosen by existence itself to be right here, right now.

I have just read this little letter, this postcard from an "elder." And I must say… (He gives a small chuckle and shakes his head gently) …it’s a feisty one, isn't it?

It starts with such beauty: "Grace, mercy, and peace will be with us... in truth and love." Ah, yes. That’s it. That’s the whole of it. If we just stopped there, our joy would be complete. "I was overjoyed to find... children walking in the truth... let us love one another." Beautiful. This is the commandment from the beginning. It’s not new. It’s the rain falling, the sun rising. It is the "is-ness" of the universe.

And then… (His tone shifts to one of gentle mischief) …then the elder clearly had a bad cup of tea.

"Many deceivers have gone out!" "Antichrist!" "Be on your guard!" "Do not receive into the house or welcome anyone who comes to you and does not bring this teaching!"

My goodness. It sounds like a spiritual "No Soliciting" sign. It sounds like the very thing I warned against: building a wall, separating the "clean" from the "unclean," the "us" from the "them." It sounds, if I’m honest, like the disease of the mind that the great masters of the Way have warned us about for centuries. The Hsin Hsin Ming states it so clearly: "Make the smallest distinction, however, and you are as far from it as heaven is from earth." This letter seems to be full of distinctions.

So, what do we do? Do we throw the letter away? Do we say the elder is lost in his own dualistic confusion?

No. No. Let’s not be so quick. That is just another preference, another judgment. Let's not throw the elder out of our house.

What if this letter is not about them? What if this fiery warning is not about building walls against other people, other beliefs, other tribes? What if this letter is the most intimate spiritual direction imaginable?

What if the "deceivers" are not out in the world, but "gone out" from the dark corners of our own minds?

The elder warns of those "who do not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh." Historically, this was about people who thought the divine was pure spirit, separate from this messy, beautiful, painful world. They thought the divine was "out there," not "in here."

But what is the true spiritual meaning? The "flesh" is this. This moment. This breath. This body. This cup of coffee. This traffic jam. This person you cannot stand. This is the "flesh."

The great "deceiver," the "antichrist," is any thought that denies the sacredness of this present moment.

It’s the voice that whispers, "Peace is not here. It's later, when you're on vacation." That's the deceiver. It’s the voice that says, "God is not here. He’s in a book, in a building, or in the afterlife." That's the deceiver. It's the voice that says, "This moment is just a stepping stone, something to get through." That is the antichrist, the great separation from What Is. It is the mind that "goes beyond" the simple, abiding truth of this.

And so the elder commands us: "Be on your guard!"

This is the very essence of "Wisdom in Action." It is not a call to guard our borders or our doctrines. It is a call to guard the "Inner Kingdom" of our own minds.

Guard it from what? From the mind of preference. From the "disease" of "like and dislike." A thought arises: "I am right, and they are wrong." Be on your guard! That is the deceiver. A feeling arises: "I am better than them. I am more 'spiritual'." Be on your guard! That is the deceiver. An impulse arises: "I need this to happen to be happy. I must avoid that at all costs." Be on your guard! That is the deceiver.

This is not a foreign concept. It is the deep, shared wisdom of humanity. In the Buddhist tradition, the "deceiver" has a name: Māra. Māra is not some distant demon; he is the personification of our own mental habits. When the Buddha sat under the Bodhi tree, Māra didn't attack with armies; he attacked with thoughts: "You're not worthy." "Who do you think you are?" "This is boring." "Look at that injustice over there! Be angry!" Māra is the "antichrist" who does not confess that enlightenment is right here, in this fleshy moment. The Buddha's entire practice was to "be on his guard"—to sit, to watch, and to not welcome those thoughts. He saw them, he knew them, and he let them pass.

The elder says, "Everyone who does not abide in the teaching... but goes beyond it, does not have God."

What does it mean to "go beyond" the teaching? The teaching is simple: "Love one another." "The Kingdom of God is within you." "The Great Way is not difficult." We "go beyond" it by adding our opinions. "Love one another... but not those people." "The Kingdom is within... if I meditate for 20 years." "The Way is not difficult... except for my terrible boss."

These additions, these "buts" and "ifs"… these are the deceivers. To "abide" is to stay with the simple, unadorned truth. To love. To be here. When you "abide," the elder says, you have "both the Father and the Son." You have both. The two circles merge. The Unmanifest (Father) and the manifest "flesh" (Son) are seen as One. You are no longer "as far from it as heaven is from earth."

Now we come to the most difficult part. "Do not receive into the house or welcome anyone... for to welcome is to participate in the evil deeds."

If we take this literally, we are lost. We are back to building walls. We are back to hating our enemies, the very thing I said not to do. This would violate the "Higher Ethic."

So, what is the "house"? The house is your mind. The house is your "Inner Kingdom." Who do you "not receive"? Not a person! Never a person. You are to "love your enemies, bless those who curse you." You are not to receive the thought that they are your enemy. You are not to "welcome" the feeling of righteous anger. You are not to "participate" in the deed of separation, the "evil deed" of seeing another as "other."

When that thought of judgment, anger, or fear knocks on your door, you "be on your guard." You see it. You can nod to it. But you do not have to invite it in for tea and biscuits. You don't have to let it take over the living room, put its feet on the furniture, and start redecorating. To "welcome" that thought, to believe it, to identify with it—that is to "participate in the evil deed" of duality.

This, too, is seen in other great traditions. In the Hindu path of Advaita Vedanta, the "deceiver" is called Maya, the illusion of separateness. The "antichrist" is the ahamkara, the "I-maker," the ego, the voice that insists, "I am this body, I am this mind, I am separate from you." The practice is to "be on guard" through Atma Vichara, self-enquiry. When the thought "I am angry" arises, the sage asks, "To whom has this anger come? Who am I?" They "do not welcome" the thought as truth, but use it as a tool to "abide" in the true Self, the Atman, which is one with Brahman, the All.

Both Buddhism and Advaita, like our Zennist elder, point to the same inner work. They differ in language—one psychological (delusion), one metaphysical (illusion), one theological (antichrist)—but the human practice is identical: Guard the house of your mind from the lie of separation.

And my, oh my, is that relevant today. We live in a world that is screaming at us to "welcome" deceivers. Your phone is a little box of deceivers. It buzzes and says, "Look at what you're missing! Your life is not this." (Denying the flesh). It shows you "them," the people who are wrong, foolish, or dangerous, and it says, "Hate them. Judge them. Be afraid." (Welcoming the deceiver). We scroll and scroll, participating in the "evil deed" of constant, frantic, dualistic judgment. We are full of anxiety, and we wonder why. It's because we've left the front door of our "house" wide open, and the deceivers are having a party.

We see it in the largest-scale events. Just this past week, we all watched the news of the [OOC: Inserting a generic, recurring event] ongoing, bitter global climate negotiations. The "deceivers" were everywhere. "It's hopeless!" "It's their fault!" "They aren't doing enough!" "Our way is the only way!" These thoughts "go beyond" the simple, abiding truth: the earth needs care. I must act. I must love. "Be on your guard." Do not let the despair or the righteous anger into your house. It doesn't mean you don't act. "Wisdom in Action" demands you act! But you act from a place of clarity and love, not from a house possessed by the ghosts of anger and blame. You first remove the plank of "like and dislike" from your own eye.

The elder finishes his letter with the most beautiful, "Zennist" teaching of all.

"Although I have much to write to you, I would rather not use paper and ink; instead I hope to come to you and talk with you face to face, so that our joy may be complete."

He admits it! All these words, all this fiery warning, all this "paper and ink"... it's not it. It’s not the Truth. The Hsin Hsin Ming says it perfectly: "Words! Words! The Way is beyond language. Words never could, can not now, and never will describe the Way."

This sermon, these words, they are just "paper and ink."

The real teaching, the place where "our joy may be complete," is "face to face." It is you, right now, "face to face" with the feeling of the breath in your lungs. It is you, "face to face" with the person next to you. It is you, "face to face" with the person you will meet later today, the one who will annoy you, the one you are "not supposed to welcome." That is the "flesh." That is the "Christ" moment.

Can you "abide" in that face-to-face encounter? Can you "be on your guard" against the inner deceiver that wants to judge, label, and separate? Can you, in that moment, simply "love one another"?

That is the whole teaching. That is guarding the house. That is where the two circles merge, and our joy is truly, truly complete.

Go in peace. And be on your guard. (He bows gently).