Chapter 1. The problem structure of soteriology¶

What is soteriology's central question? What counts as "liberation," what does it liberate one from, and by what standard should a soteriology be judged valid? This chapter establishes the book's framework of analysis.

Distinguishing a "theory of liberation" from a "doctrine of redemption"

This book uses 解脱论, "theory of liberation," to translate "soteriology" into Chinese and describe the relevant Buddhist theories, rather than 救赎学, "doctrine of redemption." The choice has philosophical grounds and does not arise from Chinese usage. In Christian theology, "redemption" and "salvation" have specific meanings, the forgiveness of sins, repayment of a debt, and reconciliation with God.¹ This framework presupposes an external power capable of saving, and a human condition of fallenness in a moral or ontological sense. Buddhism's scheme of liberation is fundamentally different in structure. Even when the compassionate vows and blessings of Buddhas and bodhisattvas appear in Mahāyāna traditions, their logical basis differs essentially from Christian accounts of redemption. Liberation is achieved through the dissolution of ignorance and the cutting off of craving, not the clearing of a debt of sin.

In the Pāli tradition, "liberation" (vimutti, Sanskrit vimukti) means the mind's loosening and release from bondage.² The bondage is cognitive and affective, not legal or theological. "Theory of liberation" therefore better preserves this central sense as a Chinese rendering. It is a theory of how people escape the bondage of suffering (dukkha), not a doctrine of how they obtain divine pardon. The book will use this Chinese term throughout to remind readers to consider each tradition's claims within this specifically Buddhist framework of questions.

“Part VI” refers to Essay Six, on Pure Land. The third row of the salvation column describes the cleansing of the debt of sin and reconciliation with God.

There is, however, one exception to this structural distinction that must be identified separately, Pure Land. The preceding distinction between Buddhist liberation and redemption concerns Buddhism's main scheme. Pure Land's soteriology has in fact crossed the boundary of a theory of liberation and entered theology in the strict sense. It has all the structural elements of Christian redemption: an external power capable of saving, Amitābha and his original vows; a fallen condition from which it is hard to escape by one's own power, the heavy karmic obstructions of beings in the Sahā world, a world unsuited to practice; and a way of being saved that depends on reception by another's power, invoking the Buddha's name, being received at death, and rebirth in the Pure Land.

Nominally, Pure Land still speaks in the language of liberation. Rebirth there does not equal Buddhahood; the Land of Bliss is described as a place more favorable to practice, and practitioners must continue cultivating the path after arriving. Yet a close look at the function of this account shows how far it is from "going to a good place to practice." By its own doctrine, those reborn in the Land of Bliss immediately enter the state of "nonretrogression" (avaivartika). Buddhahood thereafter is settled, with no possibility of falling back.³ Functionally, rebirth is therefore no longer "an opportunity to practice," but "a certificate guaranteeing Buddhahood." The language is that of liberation; the mechanism is that of redemption. The step that truly decides one's fate is reception by an external power out of this world, rather than the cutting off of ignorance within it. In this respect, Pure Land is the only Buddhist system for which "doctrine of redemption" is more fitting than "theory of liberation." This book still analyzes it within the framework of liberation (see Essay 6), but readers must remember that it remains a structural anomaly within that framework.

The Pure Land example also points to a more general phenomenon worth identifying before the analysis begins. The method just used separates a concept's "nominally claimed status" from "the function it actually performs." The two do not always coincide. This mismatch between claim and function recurs across Mahāyāna traditions, almost constituting a characteristic structure. The following examples will be examined in their respective essays later in the volume. Here they serve only as a preview.

In Yogācāra, the ālayavijñāna functionally plays much of the role of a "self." It spans the three times, holds seeds, maintains the continuity of karman and its results, and guarantees the continuity of the subject of rebirth. Nearly every function that something would have to perform in the place early Buddhism emptied through "nonself" falls to it. Yet Yogācāra's doctrinal wording must insist that it arises and ceases moment by moment, is neither permanent nor one, and must never be acknowledged as a "self."

In Madhyamaka's use, ultimate truth functions as a supreme criterion against which all conventional statements must be measured. Yet while Madhyamaka uses it without a moment's interruption, it also says that it is only a raft for crossing a river, an expedient established to break attachment, and must not be grasped as really existent. Tathāgatagarbha is more unsettled still. Is its "true permanence" really permanent, really existent, or established only by provisional naming? Its schools disagree. Some hold it to be a definitive statement of reality; others regard it merely as an expedient designation to guide sentient beings. There is no agreement.

This book takes the common feature of these three examples to be that a concept plays the role of A within a system while the system verbally insists that it is not A. This volume does not intend simply to accuse these systems of "self-contradiction" on that basis. A gap between claim and function may be where the theory's intention lies, rather than a flaw. But readers of Mahāyāna soteriologies should develop a habit. They must attend not only to what a concept is "said to be," but also to what it "does" within the mechanism as a whole. Examining the level of claims separately from the level of functions is one of this volume's basic methods. The four fundamental questions formulated below, especially the question of mechanism, are tools for bringing this gap to light.

A prior premise: the truth of suffering

Before posing those fundamental questions, an earlier premise must be established, or the whole framework will hang in the air. The four noble truths run from suffering to origin, cessation, and path. They begin with the truth of suffering, not the truth of its origin. First establish that suffering exists, then ask how it arises dependently. This is not an arbitrary order. Every soteriology takes "there is suffering to be ended" as an implicit premise. But that premise itself needs to be established, not assumed.

Specifically, the truth of suffering has two things to answer. Does suffering exist universally and with certainty? And what exactly is meant by "suffering" here? Skipping this level to ask directly "where does suffering come from?" harbors a subtle arrogance. It assumes the existence of suffering to be an accomplished fact requiring no argument, treating a proposition that should first be established as self-evident background. The diagnostic question, where suffering comes from, logically depends on the truth of suffering. Without that truth established, diagnosis has nothing to diagnose.

But the universal existence of suffering is precisely not something all parties accept. To some, birth, aging, illness, death, separation from what one loves, and failure to obtain what one seeks make its universality almost self-evident. To others, life has pleasures of its own, and judging existence as a whole to be "suffering" imposes a one-sided cast on it. The disagreement is hard to resolve because it is bound to the second question. The parties often mean fundamentally different things by "suffering" (dukkha). Pāli dukkha does not mean the everyday Chinese "pain" or "life is hard." It is closer to the structural deficiency whereby all conditioned phenomena, because they are impermanent, are ultimately unreliable and unfulfilling. A person can live a subjectively happy life while remaining in suffering in the sense of dukkha.⁴ Whether suffering is accepted as universal and how suffering is defined are two sides of the same question.

In contemporary discussions that rank Buddhist teachings, one often hears, "People who study the southern tradition think life is hard, so they seek only their own liberation." This statement is deeply problematic, and the volume will address it directly in the chapter on the southern transmission. Here the point is what its manner of error reveals, rather than where it goes wrong. The speaker understands the truth of suffering in the everyday sense that "life is hard," as though the southern tradition began from a pessimistic feeling about life. The dukkha on which that tradition itself relies is a far more technical, structural concept, unrelated to emotional pessimism. The same Chinese character 苦, "suffering," is read by one party as the intensity of a subjective feeling and by the other as a universal property of conditioned phenomena. The standards differ completely, and misunderstanding follows. This example shows that how suffering exists in its ordinary sense, and what suffering really is, constitute an unsettled premise that needs clarification first. This volume's first step in judging each soteriology is to see what it posits as "suffering." Once this differs, the subsequent diagnosis, mechanism, and verification no longer share the same coordinates.

The four fundamental questions of soteriology

On the premise established by the truth of suffering, every soteriology, however complex its metaphysical commitments, must directly answer four fundamental questions. Together with that premise, they form this book's basic framework for analyzing the traditions.

A correspondence should be noted first. This volume does not impose the framework on Buddhism from outside. It is almost the structure of the four noble truths themselves. The truth of suffering establishes the premise, what suffering is and whether it is universal. The truth of origin corresponds to the diagnostic question, where suffering comes from. The truth of cessation corresponds to the question of the goal, what liberation is. The truth of the path corresponds to the question of mechanism, how liberation occurs. The question of verification is an epistemological inquiry derived from the truths of cessation and path, how to determine that one has arrived. On this point, Gotama's teaching is a quite rigorous system. The four truths are a chain of reasoning in which each establishes the premise for the next, not four doctrines standing side by side. Much of this volume's work is to clarify that chain again and use it to measure where each tradition has loosened, broken, or substituted a link. One point must be stated in advance. Precisely because the framework is drawn from the four noble truths, its fit with early Buddhism is not an independent test of early Buddhism. To treat it as one would be circular. The framework's effectiveness will emerge only when it measures Mahāyāna systems that do not derive from the four noble truths. The next chapter will address this specifically.

The first is the diagnostic question. Where does suffering come from? Why are human beings in bondage? The answer sets the direction of the whole soteriology. Early Buddhism answers with craving (tanhā) and ignorance (avijjā); Madhyamaka with the view of real existence (svabhāva-dṛṣṭi); Yogācāra with consciousness's dualistic grasping (grāhya-grāhaka); tathāgatagarbha with adventitious defilements (āgantuka-kleśa) obscuring the intrinsically pure mind; Vajrayāna with the failure to recognize originally pure awareness (rigpa). Pure Land's answer often rests on the heavy karmic obstructions of sentient beings and the Sahā world's unsuitability for practice. Different diagnoses naturally lead to different prescriptions. The diagnostic question is therefore the first key to understanding the differences among these soteriologies.

The second is the question of the goal. What is liberation? What state follows the complete cessation of suffering, and how is that endpoint described? This question corresponds to the truth of cessation and stands between diagnosis and mechanism. The truth of suffering gives only a starting point. Without first determining the endpoint, one cannot speak of the direction of a path to liberation. This step cannot be omitted because traditions that share the premise "there is suffering" may posit entirely different endpoints. Some say that saṃsāra and nirvāṇa are nondual, that birth and death are nirvāṇa. Some say that defilements are awakening, and do not take defilements to be suffering that must be abandoned at all. Others speak simply of leaving suffering and obtaining happiness, with another realm of happiness to reach. Once the endpoints differ, wholly different destinations lie under the same word "liberation." The truth of cessation, the goal, is therefore a premise of the truth of the path, the mechanism. Without first making clear where one is going, one cannot judge whether a route is right. It is equally a premise of verification, because the judgment "has one arrived?" is meaningful only after "what the destination is like" has been made clear. This volume pays particular attention to whether each tradition explains this step, or vaguely borrows words such as "liberation," "nirvāṇa," and "Buddhahood" without specifying their referents.

The third is the question of mechanism. How does liberation occur? What is the actual mechanism of transformation? This is soteriology's most central question, and the one most easily overlooked. A soteriology that says only "cutting off ignorance brings liberation," without explaining how ignorance is cut off or by what mechanism, is theoretically incomplete. Early Buddhism gives the following mechanism. Seeing phenomena as they really are (yathābhūtañāṇadassana) weakens craving. As craving weakens, suffering loses the conditions of its arising and consequently ceases. This is a relatively clear causal chain. The other traditions each offer accounts of their mechanisms. One of this book's tasks is to assess whether those accounts are internally coherent and truly explain how transformation occurs.

The fourth is the question of verification. How is liberation recognized, and who has the authority to recognize it? Verification concerns the grounds of a soteriology's credibility. Early Buddhism offers a kind of phenomenological verification. Greater steadiness of mind and fewer defilements are immanent, observable changes that practitioners themselves and those around them can partly perceive. As the traditions' theories develop, standards of verification tend increasingly to become restricted to elites and to lack ascertainable signs. Chan's "seeing one's nature" requires a teacher's confirmation; Vajrayāna accomplishment requires a guru's recognition; and tathāgatagarbha realization of the "intrinsically pure mind" is almost imperceptible to outsiders. This tendency bears directly on the epistemological status of soteriological claims. It is no incidental matter.

The fifth heading in the Chinese is “Verification (recognition).” The additional “Canonical anchor” labels in the English diagram restate the four-truth correspondences already shown in the main labels.

This book's critical framework: early Buddhism as the baseline

This book's critique takes early Buddhist soteriology as its baseline for the following reasons.

First is historical priority. Early Buddhism represents the earliest and historically most credible form of Buddhist teaching we can trace. Although scholars disagree in many ways over the reconstruction of "original Buddhism," central teachings such as the four noble truths, the noble eightfold path, and dependent origination are recorded with sufficient consistency in the northern and southern transmissions. Their historical credibility is higher than that of the complex developments of the Mahāyāna systems. Second is internal consistency. Early Buddhist soteriology has considerable theoretical consistency. The logical relations among diagnosis (craving and ignorance), mechanism (seeing things as they really are), goal (the cessation of suffering), and route (the noble eightfold path) are clear. They do not require appeal to a large body of external metaphysical commitments.

Third is relative metaphysical restraint. Early Buddhism maintains a cautious silence on metaphysical questions. The Buddha leaves a family of such questions undetermined, ten in the Pāli texts and fourteen in the Chinese translations and Sarvāstivāda, as discussed in Chapter 1 of Essay 13 in Part II of Volume 1. It posits no first cause and establishes no truly permanent entity. Its soteriology requires comparatively few metaphysical commitments. This also makes it easier for critics to find a clear point of reference. Any system that adds metaphysical commitments must explain whether those additions are necessary for liberation.

I say "relative" because this teaching has commitments of its own, and more than one. First, the cosmology of rebirth is a load-bearing presupposition. Half the weight of the suffering of formations depends on rebirth to make it up. Second, nirvāṇa as the unconditioned element and formations that arise and cease belong to two different kinds. This is a positive affirmation of existence borne by the discourses themselves. Chapter 1 of Essay 13 in Part II of Volume 1 includes it in the inventory of commitments and marks it as the only cell on that map to cross the boundary. The affirmation of existence is inside the wall; questions of predication are outside. Restraint therefore does not mean zero commitment. At least this one ontological level is established, by a rule that undertakes only its existence and withholds predication. This account must not be obscured by praise for "restraint." The next chapter will address it specifically in the section on "The baseline's metaphysical bill." Here it is enough to explain why it does not unsettle the baseline's standing. Rebirth is a premise shared by every subsequent tradition. The bodhisattva's three great incalculable kalpas, Pure Land rebirth, and Vajrayāna's intermediate state all operate within rebirth. Taking the shared premise as the ground, we examine what each tradition adds beyond it. Criticism conducted within shared premises can hold without relying on the baseline position.

This book's focus must be declared. The question it addresses is "whether this soteriological claim stands up theoretically," not "whether this is genuine Buddhism." These are entirely different questions. This book addresses only the former.

The limits of criticism: distinguishing theoretical claims from practical efficacy

The objects of this book's criticism are the traditions' theoretical soteriological claims, not the actual effects of the practices associated with them. This distinction is crucial to understanding its position.

"Theoretical soteriological claims" means a system's explicit propositions about the nature of suffering, the mechanism of liberation, its goal, and its verification. Pure Land's claims, for example, include that Amitābha has an eighteenth vow, that rebirth in the Pure Land is a real and practicable path to liberation, that recollection of the Buddha is the principal condition for rebirth there, and that the Pure Land is a domain of existence with specific features. These are propositions open to theoretical assessment.

"The actual efficacy of practice" means whether a set of practices really reduces practitioners' suffering, improves their psychological condition, and strengthens their compassion and wisdom. This is an empirical question. It must be answered by observing actual changes in practitioners, not derived solely from theoretical claims.

This book holds that the two can, and must, be assessed separately. A soteriology may have serious philosophical problems while its associated practices really help particular practitioners. Pure Land recollection of the Buddha, for example, faces an epistemological difficulty concerning salvation by another's power at the theoretical level. Yet as a method of focused practice, recollection of the Buddha may actually reduce mental distraction and strengthen concentration. Explaining this effect does not require belief in a cosmology of the Pure Land. This book criticizes theoretical problems in the traditions' soteriologies. It does not say that people practicing their methods gain no benefit. A corresponding boundary also applies. The volume diagnoses the structure of discourse and theory, not the psychology of any individual or group. "Attachment," as a judgment, identifies a system's functional orientation, not individual practitioners' motives.

The structure of Volume 2 as a whole

This volume proceeds from the baseline to particular cases, then from those cases to a combined assessment. The introduction, this essay, establishes the critical framework, draws out the early Buddhist baseline, and surveys the overall shape of the Mahāyāna traditions' transformations. The Madhyamaka essay, Essay 2, then examines how Nāgārjuna's account of emptiness reconstructs soteriology and assesses its gains and losses. The Yogācāra essay, Essay 3, treats consciousness-only's account of the mechanism of transformation of the basis, and the theoretical tensions that ālayavijñāna introduces into soteriology. The tathāgatagarbha essay, Essay 4, examines how Buddha-nature doctrine brings soteriology close to the danger of eternalism, and the schools' strategies for responding. The esoteric Buddhism essay, Essay 5, assesses the promise of Buddhahood in this very body and the difficulties of verification within systems of empowerment and transmission. The Pure Land essay, Essay 6, analyzes the structure of salvation by another's power and its fundamental tension with early Buddhism's principle of reliance on one's own effort. Finally, the combined critique, Essay 7, draws on the book's criticisms to put forward its criteria for a "credible soteriology," and concludes the volume.

The essays on the traditions share one format. Their first part surveys the soteriology, presenting its strongest form through the five questions without criticism. Their second part criticizes it, examining each truth in the order of suffering, origin, cessation, path, and verification, and ending with a judgment of attachment and a concluding examination. The format itself is part of the method. First let each tradition finish speaking; then check each link in turn.

The intention is to analyze each tradition's specific contributions and difficulties in soteriology, and ultimately present a philosophical picture of Buddhist soteriology as a whole.

References¶