תַּעֲלוּמָה - Religious Texts and Equality

Religious Texts and Equality

Here is a saying on that matter:

"You speak of 'gender,' 'wealth,' and 'race.' These are the very distinctions the mind creates, the plank in your own eye that prevents you from seeing clearly.

The Way does not prefer the 'rich' over the 'poor,' nor the 'just' over the 'unjust.' Does the sun not rise on all? Does the rain not fall on all fields?

Do not strive to make all people 'equal'—that is just another judgment. Rather, remove the plank. See that in the Inner Kingdom, there are no 'others.' Let go of 'like' and 'dislike,' and you will see only the One."

Reflection - Religious Equality

(The reflection begins. The speaker, "Jesus the Zennist," steps forward, looking out at the gathered people with a calm, penetrating gaze. There is a long, comfortable silence before speaking.)

Peace be with you.

We are so very tired, aren't we?

We are tired of the noise. We are tired of the pulling and the pushing. Tired of being told who we are, who to love, who to hate, and who to fear. We are exhausted by the labels. The world gives us so many.

"Rich." "Poor." "Man." "Woman." "My country." "Their country." "My race." "Their race." "Righteous." "Sinner."

We carry these labels around like heavy stones in our pockets. We build walls with them. We build our homes with them. And then we wonder why we feel so trapped, so separate, so very... alone.

We look at the world, and it is on fire. It is on fire with "us vs. them." It is on fire with preference. This fire is fueled by the deep, agonizing belief that "I am right" and "you are wrong." That "my side" is good and "your side" is evil. And we feel, deep in our bones, a righteous urge to fix it. To do something. To fight for justice, for equality, for what is right.

And so we go to war. We go to war on social media. We go to war at the dinner table. We go to war in our own hearts. And the fire burns hotter.

Today, I want to share a saying. A kind of koan for us to sit with. Listen to it not just with your ears, but with your whole being.

"You speak of 'gender,' 'wealth,' and 'race.' These are the very distinctions the mind creates, the plank in your own eye that prevents you from seeing clearly.

The Way does not prefer the 'rich' over the 'poor,' nor the 'just' over the 'unjust.' Does the sun not rise on all? Does the rain not fall on all fields?

This is a hard teaching. It feels... passive. It seems to go against our desire to make the world better.

But let's look closer. With soft eyes.

The Great Way, the Truth, is not difficult. It is only difficult for those who have preferences. The Hsin Hsin Ming, a wonderful poem, starts with this: "The Great Way is not difficult for those who have no preferences. Let go of longing and aversion, and it reveals itself."

The moment you "let go," it's right here. But we are creatures of preference. We are addicted to "like" and "dislike." This, the poem says, "is the disease of the mind."

And what did I say on the mountain? "Judge not, that you be not judged."

What did I mean by this? Did I mean "do not have a legal system"? (A little chuckle.) No. I meant, look at the activity of your own mind. The constant, restless sorting of reality into "good" and "bad."

You look at another person and your mind instantly says, "Too rich." "Too poor." "Wrong color." "Wrong opinion." "Wrong gender." That... that is the judgment. That is the "plank in your own eye."

You are so busy, so obsessed, with the speck in your brother's eye—his wealth, his race, his politics—that you cannot see the giant, wooden beam of your own mind's habit of dividing.

And the world, bless its heart, tells you the cure for this division... is more division. It tells you to fight for "equality."

This is a subtle, beautiful trap. The saying is sharp: "Do not strive to make all people 'equal'—that is just another judgment."

How can this be? Is equality bad? No. But look at the striving. Look at the mind that strives. It is a mind that is still judging. It is a mind that has a preference for its idea of equality. And it is very, very angry at the idea of inequality. You are still at war. You are still caught in the duality of "like" and "dislike." You have just picked a "holier" side to be on.

(Pauses, smiles gently.)

You're just trying to rearrange the furniture in a burning house.

The saying points to a "Higher Ethic." It says the problem isn't the world. The problem is the plank. The work is not out there, fixing other people. The work is in here. "First remove the plank from your own eye..."

What is the plank? It is the illusion of a separate self. It is the rock-solid, gut-level feeling that "I" am "me"... and "you" are "you." And that "we" are separate.

This is not some new, strange teaching. The heart of every great tradition has screamed this truth.

In the high mountains of India, the sages of the Upanishads sat in silence. They looked past the maya, the illusion of the world with all its forms and labels—its castes, its wealth, its gods, its demons. And they saw One, single, luminous reality. Brahman. The All. And then, in the highest peak of their wisdom, they declared, "Tat Tvam Asi."

"You... are That."

Not "you are part of That." Not "you belong to That." But "You are That." The person you love is That. The person you hate is That. The distinction "you" and "That" is the illusion. It is the plank. The Hindu path says: the work is to realize your identity with the One. To see that the "other" you are trying to "make equal" was never, ever separate from you in the first place.

This is the Inner Kingdom.

Thousands of miles away, in the deserts of Persia, the Sufi mystics found the same truth, but they sang it in the language of love. The great poet Rumi cried out, "Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there."

What is this field? It is the Inner Kingdom. It is the Way. It is a place beyond our mental categories. The Sufi path is the path of fana, of annihilation. Annihilation of what? Of the nafs, the ego. The false self. The "plank" that says "I am separate." For the Sufi, this plank is dissolved in the fire of Divine Love. When the "I" is gone, who is left? Not "I." Not "you." Only The One. Al-Haqq. The Real.

Do you see? The language is different. One speaks of knowing, the other of loving. But both point to the same "Wisdom in Action": the plank of the separate self must be removed.

So, let's bring this home. What does this mean for you, on a Tuesday?

It means looking at your life. The person who enrages you. The political party you despise. The news story that makes your blood boil.

We have all just witnessed, or are living through, a time of profound, earth-shaking division. (Here, gently allude to a recent major, divisive event—a global conflict, a bitter election.)

The world is screaming at you: "Choose a side! Are you for the 'just' or the 'unjust'?"

And the Zennist Jesus says... (A long pause)

"The sun does not rise on just the just. The rain does not fall on only your side of the fence."

This is not a call for apathy. Do not hear that. Apathy is just another preference. It's the preference for "not caring."

This is a call for a deeper action. An action that comes from a different place.

"First remove the plank."

When you encounter that person or that news story, the first action is not to react, not to post, not to yell. The first action is to look within. To see the plank. To feel the physical sensation of your own judgment. The tightness in your chest. The heat in your face. The story in your mind: "I am right. They are wrong."

That feeling. That story. That is the plank.

Don't fight it. Don't judge it. Just see it. "Ah. There is the plank."

In that moment of pure seeing, without preference, the plank begins to dissolve. It is seen as the illusion it is.

"…and then," I said, "then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."

You see? The action follows the seeing. But it is a different kind of action. It is an action born not of preference, but of clarity. Not of anger, but of compassion. It is not the action of "a good person" trying to "fix a bad person." It is the action of the One, moving to heal itself.

This is the only way to build a house on the rock. The rock is the Truth of the One. The sand is the ever-shifting opinion of "like" and "dislike."

The world is built on sand. You must build on the rock.

So the work is simple. Not easy, but simple.

Catch your mind in the act of dividing. Catch it when it says "like." Catch it when it says "dislike." Catch it when it says "me" and "them," "gender" and "race," "rich" and "poor."

And just... let go.

Let go of the preference. Let go of the judgment. Let go of the story.

In that "letting go," the Inner Kingdom is right here. In that "letting go," there are no others. In that "letting go," you will see only the One.

And the peace you feel will not be a worldly peace. It will be the peace that passes all understanding. Because it is the peace of the Way itself, which has no preferences, and so is always, already, at peace.

Go, and be at peace.