Buddhism

In a 2024 interview the actress Julia Fox was asked, “Do you meditate or journal or otherwise practice mindfulness?” She replied:

I don’t, but I do pray. When I was little, I [prayed to] Jesus Christ. Now I pray to the universe, the collective consciousness, the karmic force behind everything. I used to pray for things that I really wanted. Now I pray to be guided, stay on the right path, for strength, for positivity. But then I also definitely do pray for things I want, too.

Each morning Alexander Chu awakened to the smell of incense burning offered in front of Buddha statues. His home was like a temple. On each wall hung a Buddha portrait, totaling more than 30 deities throughout the house.

You might think the family lived on a street in Thailand or China yet his home was in Lawrence, Kansas. His father was a science professor with a Guggenheim Award, and his mother was a so-called “tiger mom” who kept the pressure on Andrew and his two sisters for straight A’s.

My Taiwanese family lineage includes generations of Buddhists, so religion was destined to be integral to my identity formation. Yet outside our home, our neighbors pursued an entirely different faith. Somehow, I managed to go through 18 years of life without ever hearing the Good News of Jesus.

In the mid-1990s, Andrew arrived at the University of Illinois at Urbana–Champaign. His dorm was full of fervent Christians. These InterVarsity Christian Fellowship students were the first Asian American Christians he had ever met. Andrew said, “Living with them, I began to realize that the Buddhism of my upbringing was not in my heart.”

Growing curious about Christianity during his sophomore year, Andrew asked a friend if he could join him at an IVCF gathering. There for the first time he heard God’s promises declared in worship songs and saw men and women praising him. He joined GIG (Groups Investigating God) and began studying the Gospel of John. Andrew said, “The authority with which Jesus spoke amazed me; it’s as if his words jumped off the pages, addressing me directly.”

Before I could place faith in Jesus, I needed to know there was a rational basis for Christianity’s foundational truths. I attended a retreat sponsored by InterVarsity, where I took an apologetics track. I heard well-founded explanations of the inspiration of Scripture, the problem of evil, and the uniqueness of the gospel. I found that Christianity was the most intellectually stimulating worldview I had ever encountered.

During my junior year I started reading John Stott’s pamphlet “Becoming a Christian.” While reading, I grew convinced of my sin and need to be forgiven. I knelt down committed my life to Christ. I had grown up in a sea of deities, yet never had a relationship with any of them. On that day, I experienced the living God, Emmanuel: “God is with us.” A peace overtook me. That night I became the first Christian in our family’s lineage.

For months he prayed about how to tell his parents what had happened. When he was at home for winter break, he sat in the living room to read Following Jesus Without Dishonoring Your Parents. His father was stunned by his reading choice, but also pleased by the dutiful title of the book. When he asked why Andrew was reading it, he told him that he had become a Christian. His parents insisted that the family religion was Buddhism. Both parents held out hope that he would come to his senses and return to the Buddhist faith.

As the years passed, I started to discern a call to vocational ministry. My parents said that if I followed through with this plan, they would cut me off. Sensing disunity in our home, I decided to stay and care for my father, who was battling heart disease. My presence and devotion built mutual respect and helped preserve our relationship. In God’s timing, my family softened to my hopes of becoming a pastor. My parents continue to share their Buddhist experiences with me, and I continue to share my faith with them. My mom regularly prays to Jesus to bless and protect me.

Editor’s note: Andrew now serves on staff as pastor of outreach at a multisite church in the Chicago suburbs.

In CT magazine, Vivian Mabuni shares her testimony of leaving “cultural Buddhism” to find life-changing faith in Christ:

I can still smell the incense. My dad would light three sticks of it and bow until his forehead met the ground. Three times he would bow—slowly, reverently—and the room would grow somber and silent. Platters of our favorite Chinese delicacies filled the dining table. A single chair, situated away from the table, represented the spirit of my grandmother. Each dish represented a special offering to honor her memory.

I grew up in a culturally Buddhist home. By “culturally Buddhist,” I mean that religion didn’t influence my day-to-day life. When it came to rituals like honoring the spirit of my grandma, I was only going through the motions.

During my sophomore year of high school, my friend Jean, underwent a notable change in disposition. Intrigued, I asked her the secret of her newfound glow. “Well, Viv, I became a Christian. I have a personal relationship with Jesus now. He died to forgive my sins, and now I’m born again and made new. The glow is from my new life in Christ.”

Disappointment filled me from head to toe. Jean was funny and smart. How could she get duped into becoming a weird Jesus freak? But she continued to transform before my eyes. She liked to say that human beings could never be satisfied with relationships, shopping, awards, or achievements. God had made people with a God-shaped vacuum that only he could fill.

My heart felt restless. I could already see the futility of going after bigger, brighter, better. The temporary thrill of winning an award or buying something new to wear could not relieve the emptiness I felt inside.

I started going to church and attending the youth group. Over time, I grew captivated by the person of Jesus, who spoke words of radical hope. His invitation to enter a relationship with the God of heaven proved irresistible. The summer before my junior year of high school, I gave my heart and life to Jesus—or so I thought.

I knew Christians were supposed to read the Bible. But no matter how much I read, very little made sense. I also knew that Christians were supposed to pray, but whenever I tried, I would get distracted or fall asleep. Christianity wasn’t working for me, so I planned to casually toss it aside like just another teenage phase.

Then my life got turned upside down. My dad went through a midlife crisis and moved our family from Boulder to Hong Kong. Everything was different. Angry and confused, I unleashed my frustration and let God know exactly how I felt. But at the end of my tirade, I added a sincere prayer: “In my heart of hearts, I want to know you and do your will. I need a church and a youth group, some Christian friends. And if you do that, I will give you my whole life. I’ll hold nothing back.”

Shortly thereafter, I got involved with the debate team at the school I attended. After one of the debates, a boy from a rival school approached me. “Excuse me,” he said. “Are you a Christian? Would you like to come to our youth group? The following Friday, I attended the meeting. That night, I learned that the Christian life wasn’t just hard to live—it was impossible to live, at least by our own efforts. God supplied the power source. Reliance upon him and his Spirit enabled us to live as Christians.

For the first time in my life, I felt willing to give God total control. Once I made this commitment, Scripture came to life in a new way. And God’s Spirit began to lead, guide, comfort, and convict.

Over the years, I’ve often needed to recommit to God’s rule and reign. This was especially true as I suffered through financial challenges and a cancer diagnosis several years ago. But each time I placed my heart, life, plans, hopes, and dreams into God’s hands, I found that his faithfulness is unwavering.

Editor’s Note: Vivian Mabuni is an author, speaker, and host of the podcast “Someday is Here.” She and her husband have served with Cru for 31 years.

Sometimes the journey to Christ begins when someone encounters horrendous evil. At other times the journey to Christ starts as the nonbeliever joins with believers to promote justice.

Sek Saroeun was a Buddhist and a law student. Working as a DJ at a bar in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, Sek knew liquor was not the only item on the menu. Girls, often young girls, were sold for sex. Disgusted by this evil, Sek began to work as an undercover informant for the International Justice Mission, a Christian human rights group.

While spinning music and scanning the bar for suspects, Sek also skimmed the pages of a Bible someone had loaned him. The words of Scripture brought him comfort and alleviated his mounting fear of being exposed as an informant. Sek found his heart changing as he worked alongside Christians to protect these vulnerable young girls. As he later shared, his “fear led to longing; longing led to transformation that is unimaginable.” Not only did Sek eventually become a Christian, today he is the top lawyer for the International Justice Mission in Cambodia.

The following Buddhist poem, in the form of a "waka," was written in the 12th century by Saigyo Hoshi after he visited a Shinto Grand Temple:

Gods here?
Who can know?
Not I.
Yet I sigh
and tears flow
tear on tear.

Editor's Note: Note the author's honest longing for true knowledge of God. He yearns to experience God and God's presence but he can't know for sure. According to the New Testament, God has revealed himself in the presence and person of Jesus Christ. In Christ, we can know that God is with us.

About every ten seconds, on average about 26 people die. By extrapolating from various statistics, including death rates and world populations and religious affiliations, seminary professor Dr. Ron Blue estimates that of these 26 recently deceased persons …

• Two were Buddhists
• Four were Hindus
• Six were Muslims
• Seven were Christians (of any type or commitment level)
• Seven were "Other," including atheist, agnostic, and animist

Pastor/author J.R. Vassar writes about ministering in Myanmar (Burma) and coming upon a broken Buddha:

One day we were prayer walking through a large Buddhist temple, when I witnessed something heartbreaking. A large number of people, very poor and desperate, were bowing down to a large golden Buddha. They were stuffing what seemed to be the last of their money into the treasury box and kneeling in prayer, hoping to secure a blessing from the Buddha. On the other side of the large golden idol, scaffolding had been built. The Buddha had begun to deteriorate, and a group of workers was diligently were repairing the broken Buddha. I took in the scene. Broken people were bowing down to a broken Buddha asking the broken Buddha to fix their broken lives while someone else fixed the broken Buddha.

The insanity and despair of it all hit me. We are no different from them. We are broken people looking to other broken people to fix our broken lives. We are glory-deficient people looking to other glory-deficient people to supply us with glory. Looking to other people to provide for us what they lack themselves is a fool's errand. It is futile to look to other glory-hungry people to fully satisfy our glory hunger, and doing so leaves our souls empty.

In his book The Intolerance of Tolerance, D. A. Carson notes that, at least in popular thought, Buddhism is much more open, flexible, and tolerant than Christianity. But Buddhism also has its hard edges of exclusionary doctrines and beliefs. For instance, when the Dalai Lama was asked whether only the Buddha can provide "the ultimate source of refuge," he replied:

Here, you see, it is necessary to examine what is meant by liberation or salvation. Liberation in which "a mind that understands the sphere of reality annihilates all defilements in the sphere of reality" is a state that only Buddhists can accomplish. This kind of moksha or nirvana is only explained in the Buddhist scriptures, and is achieved only through Buddhist practice.

Author Os Guinness tells the hauntingly sad story about the beloved 19th century Japanese Haiku poet known as Issa. When he was a young child, Issa's mother died—the first of many tragedies in his life. Many years and many sorrows later (including the death of his daughter), Issa went to a Zen master for solace. The master reminded Issa what Zen Buddhism teaches: that the world is an illusion; like the morning dew our lives will evaporate with the rising sun.

Although Issa remained committed to his Buddhist worldview, he still yearned for a more hopeful existence. (Christians would say that Issa shared our common longing for the hope of the Resurrection.) When he returned home he penned the following words:

The world is dew—
The world is dew—
and yet,
and yet …

Guinness comments about Issa's poem:

Here is a truth that should make [us] stand still in [our] tracks, but it is expressed in such distilled beauty that the fragrance of its pathos … becomes such a jewel of poetry that its lesson is easily lost. Issa the orthodox Zen believer must say [that life is only dew], but Issa the father, the husband, the human being, with his agonized grief and tortured love can only cry into the unfulfilled darkness where Zen sheds no light, "And yet …" He feels the inescapable tension between the logic of what he believes and the logic of who he is.

Issa's "and yet" makes total sense and finds its hopeful satisfaction and fulfillment … when Christ swallows up death in victory: "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?"

All religions claim some sort of "revelation." Buddhism depends on the profound insights gained by Siddhartha Gautama (the Buddha) during his moment of enlightenment while meditating under a Bodhi tree. Hinduism looks to the Vedas passed on to the first man at the dawn of time. Islam says that the angel Gabriel dictated to the Prophet Muhammad the very words of God.

But Christianity claims something very different: a series of events [about Jesus' life, death, and resurrection] which are said to have taken place in public, in datable time, recorded by a variety of witnesses …. It is as if Christianity places its neck on the chopping block of [public] scrutiny and invites anyone who wishes to come and take a swing.

[For example], imagine I came to you claiming that my late great, great grandfather revealed himself … in Times Square, New York, last Monday during the morning rush hour. His appearance stopped the traffic and left witnesses dumbfounded as he explained to them the truth about the spiritual realm …. The claim itself is one you could test to some degree. You could watch the news services, read eyewitness accounts, check the New York traffic reports and so on. You might not be able to prove it beyond all doubt … but a fair-minded person would be able to arrive at a reasonable judgment about its truth or falsehood …. If you found no evidence at all, you would be well within your rights to dismiss it. If you found good evidence, or at least more evidence than you would expect if the story were a fiction, then you could quite rationally accept it as true. This is what I mean by a testable claim.

The central claims of Christianity are to a degree testable. You can apply the normal tests of history … and find that we do in fact possess exactly the sort of evidence you would expect if the core of the Jesus story is true and decidedly more evidence than you would expect if the story were fabricated.

The central assumption of many in the interfaith dialogue business has been that at their core, all religious people—Hindus and Buddhists, Muslims and Jews, Christians and Animists—are striving for the same thing, and are just using different words and concepts to get there ….. But how true is that assumption?

Let's take a closer look at the four world religions that represent about three-quarters of the global population …. And let's start with the most basic belief in each religion: the idea of God. Within the various streams of Hindu thought alone, there are multiple answers to the question, "Who or what is god?" Hindus can believe that there is one god, 330 million gods, or no god at all. The Vedas, the most ancient of Hindu scriptures, which are accepted by most Hindus as normative, teach that atman is Brahman, or "the soul is god," meaning that god is in each of us and each of us is part of god. The common greeting, Namaste, which means, roughly, "The god within me recognizes and greets the god within you," reflects this belief.

In his apologetic for the Buddhist faith, Ven S. Dhammika, the author of several popular books on Buddhism, writes, "Do Buddhists believe in god? No, we do not. There are several reasons for this. The Buddha, like modern sociologists and psychologists, believed that religious ideas and especially the god idea have their origin in fear. The Buddha says, 'Gripped by fear, men go to the sacred mountains, sacred groves, sacred trees and shrines.' " So, for most orthodox Buddhists (in the Theravada tradition), the concept of a personal supreme being is at best unimportant, at worst an oppressive superstition.

What about Islam? In the Qur'an, sura 112 ayat 1-4, we read, "Say: He is Allah, the One and Only. Allah, the Eternal, Absolute. He begets not, nor is he begotten. And there is none like unto him." This passage in a primer for Muslim children puts it simply: "Allah is absolute, and free from all defects and has no partner. He exists from eternity and shall remain eternal. All are dependent on him, but he is independent of all. He is father to none, nor has he any son."

In contrast, Christians believe that there is one God who is creator of the world. He is a personal God, a conscious, free, and righteous being. And he is not only a personal God but a God of providence who is involved in the day-to-day affairs of creation. He is a righteous God who expects ethical behavior from each of us. He expects his followers to live out their belief by loving him with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength, and by loving their neighbors as themselves. God, while one in essence, also reveals himself in three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

So according to the four largest world religions, God is one with creation and takes on millions of forms, God may or may not exist, God is one and absolute, and God is one but exists in three persons.

If we cannot agree on even the basic definition of God or his character, how can we say that all the major religions are on the same path toward the truth about God?

National Geographic: In God's Name is a 2007 documentary that explores the views of 12 prominent spiritual leaders. Topics include calling, the presence of God, sacrifice, doubt, and the meaning of life. One of the segments in the bonus features section of the DVD is titled "Can All Religions Co-Exist?" Six of the contributing leaders offer their thoughts—thoughts that might be useful for preachers to interact with in a sermon.

From Reverend Mark Hanson, President, Lutheran World Federation, Evangelical Lutheran Church in America:

I think people of different religious beliefs must co-exist because we share two things: a common humanity and a common earth. I think one of the greatest challenges today is the relationship between unity and diversity. If we didn't have a sense of what holds us together, what unites us, a common humanity and a common earth, then our differences will become cause for division and conflict, one seeking to dominate the other. But if we have a sense of what unites us, then our diversity will enrich our lives. Dialogue is very difficult. It takes commitment, it takes honesty, and it takes a willingness to be open to the other.

From Yona Metzher, Chief Rabbi of Israel:

The answer as to whether religions can live together, the answer is yes. They can. They have to. Our sages say: "As faces differ, so do opinions differ." Every person has a different face. Do I hate him because his face is different from mine? If he doesn't have eyes like mine, am I supposed to hate him? It is like this also with different opinions. If his belief is different than mine, why should I hate him? We can stay friends. Each with his own laws. Each with his own beliefs. Everything depends on the religious leader and what kind of attitude they promote in their communities toward other religions.

From Dr. Rowan Williams, Archbishop of Canterbury, Church of England:

I believe that the Christian faith is true. I believe that what is revealed in Jesus Christ is the truth about God. But that does not make me feel I must now force everybody to accept that. It means I am grateful for what I have been given. That I would love to share it. That, also, I need to know that other people have come to their faith by a route that deserves my respect. So we talk to one another. We listen to one another. We have our convictions. We have our firm commitments to truth. But that does not mean violence. I think we can live together.

From Alexy II, Patriarch of Moscow and All-Russia Russian Orthodox Church:

We need to find common ground. We need to find out more about each other. That's why we support people knowing about religious values. First of all about the values of their own religion. And after that, about the values of other religions. This will help people to understand each other better, and not to address people of other religions with hostility or hatred.

From Tenzin Gyatso, The 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet, Tibetan Buddhist:

We can't decree that this or that religion is the most important. I cannot tell that Buddhism is the best for each one of us. For example, for one of my Christian friends, Christianity is the best, and that is the most suitable for him. Thus, Buddhism is the best for me, but I can't say that this is the best for you too. And it being the best for him, he cannot say it is the best for me as well.

Likes and interests are different, as in the food habits of different people. Some people like chilies. Others do not. Those that like chilies cannot say that the food having chilies is the best. For those that don't like chilies, the food without chilies is the best.

Take medicines also for another example. There are different varieties of medicine because there are different varieties of diseases. We cannot claim that only one medicine is the best for all diseases ….

Whatever religion it is, they are all beneficial to many people. I feel wonderstruck that these religions have been beneficial for millions of people for many thousand years. I always think they are very favorable to humanity.

From Grand Ayatollah Mohammed Hussein Fadlallah, Shia Muslim:

I have always been open to humanity as a whole. I have always thought that if I have the right to differ with the other, the same applies to the other. That is why I am always ready to engage Christians, Jews, and secularists and all other people who have a different religion than mine. I have never been a religious fanatic.

Elapsed Time: DVD, bonus feature titled "Can All Religions Co-Exist?" (the clip runs about five minutes)

Sometimes the uniqueness of the revealed Word of God and the gospel of Jesus Christ is seen most clearly when contrasted with other spiritual beliefs.

Lauding the Dalai Lama as one of the world's 100 most influential leaders, author Deepak Chopra wrote in Time magazine:

The most inspiring thing [the Dalai Lama] ever told me was to ignore all organized faiths and keep to the road of higher consciousness. "Without relying on religion, we look to common sense, common experience and the findings of science for understanding," he said.

The Dalai Lama sounds wise, and his words certainly fit the mood of our culture. But we must see clearly what his advice means. It means you ignore Christianity because it is an organized religious faith. It means you ignore the church of Jesus Christ, which Jesus himself said he would build. It means you reject the gospel of Jesus Christ—the Son of God in the flesh, crucified for our sins, raised from the dead—because the gospel flies in the face of all common sense, human experience, and science.

Make no mistake, the gentle-looking man in the maroon robe is offering advice that will lead you far from the only way of salvation.

Arthur Burns, a Jewish economist of great influence in Washington during the tenure of several Presidents, was once asked to pray at a gathering of evangelical politicians. Stunning his hosts, he prayed thus: "Lord, I pray that Jews would come to know Jesus Christ. And I pray that Buddhists would come to know Jesus Christ. And I pray that Muslims would come to know Jesus Christ."

And then, most stunning of all: "And Lord, I pray that Christians would come to know Jesus Christ."

I believe in God. I believe in Jesus and Buddha and Mohammed and all those that were enlightened. I wouldn't say necessarily that I'm a strict Christian. I'm not sure I believe in heaven.

—Rock singer Sheryl Crow in an interview with the New York Post in September of 2005

I believe in God. I just don't know if that God is Jehovah, Buddha or Allah.

—Actress Halle Berry

Newsweek religion editor Kenneth L. Woodward writes:

Clearly, the cross is what separates the Christ of Christianity from every other Jesus. In Judaism there is no precedent for a Messiah who dies, much less as a criminal as Jesus did. In Islam, the story of Jesus' death is rejected as an affront to Allah himself. Hindus can accept only a Jesus who passes into peaceful samadhi, a yogi who escapes the degradation of death. The figure of the crucified Christ, says Buddhist Thich Nhat Hanh, "is a very painful image to me. It does not contain joy or peace, and this does not do justice to Jesus." There is, in short, no room in other religions for a Christ who experiences the full burden of mortal existence—and hence there is no reason to believe in him as the divine Son whom the Father resurrects from the dead….

That the image of a benign Jesus has universal appeal should come as no surprise. That most of the world cannot accept the Jesus of the cross should not surprise, either. Thus the idea that Jesus can serve as a bridge uniting the world's religions is inviting but may be ultimately impossible.

In What's So Amazing about Grace, Philip Yancey recounts this story about C.S. Lewis:

During a British conference on comparative religions, experts from around the world debated what, if any, belief was unique to the Christian faith.

They began eliminating possibilities. Incarnation? Other religions had different versions of gods appearing in human form. Resurrection? Again, other religions had accounts of return from death.

The debate went on for some time until C.S. Lewis wandered into the room. "What's the rumpus about?" he asked, and heard in reply that his colleagues were discussing Christianity's unique contribution among world religions. Lewis responded, "Oh, that's easy. It's grace." After some discussion, the conferees had to agree.

The notion of God's love coming to us free of charge, no strings attached, seems to go against every instinct of humanity. The Buddhist eight-fold path, the Hindu doctrine of Karma, the Jewish covenant, and Muslim code of law—each of these offers a way to earn approval. Only Christianity dares to make God's love unconditional.

Unfortunately, man cannot for long endure the common sense of God. Side by side with Christianity, and often mistaken for it, there has always existed a dark Eastern religion of despair. Perhaps it first came out of exhausted and overpopulated India, where the Lord Buddha decided long ago that life was a mess.

The religion of despair often achieves a stoical and ascetic nobility, very impressive to those who are impressed by dramatic gestures. Yet it is the very opposite of the true gospel. The Christian gives up his own desires for the love of others; the Eastern ascetic renounces the world because he thinks himself too good for it. Pride aping love--it is the devil's best trick.