I arrived five minutes before High Noon almost completely out of breath. We were told that after this appointed hour, there would be no further admittance for the press. Instructed to stand outside the tent on this surprisingly warm Cambridge day, I felt like something of an impostor. Boredom or impatience hung on the faces of the the several members of the invited press. This being my first assigned story, I was thrilled to be there. I was also the only one without a digital SLR camera, fixed with a large telephoto lens, slung over my shoulder – or at least accompanied by one of these professional photographers. And we were all waiting on word from the U.S. Secret Service that it was okay to approach the Kresge Auditorium on the MIT campus for the inauguration of the Dalai Lama Center for Ethics and Transformative Values.
On entering the mood-lit hall, we were pointed towards a reserved section in the last row of floor seating where we were to wait some more. Students and some faculty, the latter cartoonishly distinguished by gray hair, gray tweed, filed into the room and took their seats in what was to become a sea of geeks. I was solidly in my element. Soon, an unseen, overhead voice announced when the lecture would begin. The lights dimmed, and a slide show began to play on the projection screen above the stage, accompanied by ethereal wind instruments over the speakers. The images of His Holiness, the XIVth Dalai Lama, were nothing short of powerful. His smiling, gracious face. And then, reaching out with both hands to grasp those offered by crowds comprised of individuals as varied as snowflakes. Reaching out across barriers, as we would soon hear, is this astonishingly simple man’s mission.
At a little past 2:30 post meridian the moment arrived and the people rose as one. Suddenly I was in church. And I was caught entirely off guard. In the popular conception, scientists are not regarded as particularly spiritual or reverent. They are generally considered iconoclasts that are distrustful of squishy untestables like faith. But in this MIT building at the heart of American Science there was surreal silence. There was deep respect. Tenzin Gyatso walked gracefully onto the stage grinning widely and bowing to those gazing up at him from the front row.
He sat and immediately busied himself with getting comfortable as Chancellor Philip Clay introduced His Holiness to the spellbound audience. I thought, “what a curious time to tie one’s shoes” and then soon realized that he was in fact untying and removing them to sit cross legged in a chaise situated center stage. He slowly nodded at the words of Chancellor Clay.
The introduction was complete and His Holiness sighed and considered his surroundings. “Global economy, ecology” he stated with a tone of voice that assumed we all understood the implied message. The Dalai Lama does not waste words. “Ecology, nature is always changing. Evolution: gradual change. But sudden change is a serious matter.” He began a brief discourse on how market forces are human enterprises and it seems inconsistent that anything created by humans could be out of human control, as recently suggested. He extended this logic to our stewardship of the environment. In the mind of the Dalai Lama, any ill that is caused by human effort can be solved by human effort.
But of course there are things that stand in the way. He introduced these challenges by contrasting compassion with affection. “Compassion, towards the person [is] without attachment, unbiased. Affection, attachment – this is biased.” In Buddhism, it is understood that great suffering is associated with attachment to people and things in our world. And without compassion, without unbiased fair treatment of humankind, happiness and harmony are very hard to attain. He then linked attachment and bias with narrow, non-productive thinking. “Narrow mind”, he said, “cannot see reality” implying that without a solid grip on reality, problems will remain insurmountable. He went on to say that, to dispel narrowness of mind, one must increase knowledge and, more importantly, compassion.
But how do we increase compassion in a Western political and world climate that most times directs the focus fervently on narrow interests? “[The] Potential to increase compassion [is] like increasing knowledge.” That is, compassion can be realized through education. The Dalai Lama clearly believes that a critical component of increasing compassion is finding ways to teach and promote ethics amongst believers and non-believers alike through efforts such as the new Center at MIT. “Secularism” he said while beginning to smile, “means respecting not one but all religions [as well as] respecting non-believers.” Respect. This is the key to reaching out across boundaries. And where better to begin to increase compassion through education than the decidedly secular halls of MIT?
Whimsically, he wished aloud that “If only the MIT scientists [could discover] an injection that causes compassion!” His sheer joy at his own teasing is phenomenal and the crowd laughed loud with him. But he did not trail far from his point. He went on to say that the amazing thing about human beings is that we can affect “change through reason”. It is no secret that the Dalai Lama is a gigantic fan of science, and many scientists of him. That he holds reason in such high regard is very much a part of this mutual affinity.
As evidenced today, the Dalai Lama’s essential belief is that there is room for all. Believer and non-believer, scientist and monk, homeless and wealthy can contribute to positive solutions so long as the common language is one of respect. He proffers that this, in combination with a sense of honesty, transparency and compassion can lead to an understanding of the “human family” and point the way towards a brighter future.
At the end of his talk, perhaps just to reinforce the notion that he rejects ceremony, he simply stated: “I think I’ve had enough!”. I looked around and appreciated a riveted MIT audience that simply had not.
