Buddhist Discourses in Thai Merit-Making Rituals [0.9.1 ed.]

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Buddhist

Discourses

In Thai Merit-Making Rituals

J. R. Bhaddacak

Version 0.9.1

Copyright © 2023 J. R. Bhaddacak This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/4.0/

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Description First public release, minor changes Pre-release for proofreading

Preface This book is a revision of my PhD thesis, titled “A Postulated Reality: A Study of Buddhist Discourses in Thai Merit-Making Rituals.”1 I use only the last part of its subtitle to make the name shorter, but some information is missing. This should be explained here, for those who assess the content from the book’s title will not be much disappointed. The present book is not about a textual study of Pāli scripture to find correspondences and/or discrepancies between the text and the rituals practiced nowadays in Thai context, even though we substantially have this in the book, but it is not the most important part. The key idea comes from the main title of the thesis, a postulated reality. In a nutshell, we will here talk about how meritmaking rituals in Thai context postulates (or simply makes up) certain kind of reality held as truth by the individuals or society. By this account, the word ‘discourses’ in the title plays a significant role. It does not mean just utterances, deliverances, or statements. A discourse does more than delivering a message. It can construct what held as real as well. And this is the main theme of the book. In short, I will develop a model to analyze rituals, then Thai merit-making rituals will be put onto the bench. The result of this autopsy is the understanding of discourses at work. However, at the end lies a little twist, as we shall see in due course. Since the work comes from a graduate study, things can go really complex and complicated to ordinary readers. I try to alleviate the reader’s pain by reorganizing the fixed thesis form into several parts and chapters. Clarifications, if needed, are added, as well as illustrations and supplementary information. 1 Phra Jakratep Rampungkit, 2018, the College of Religious Studies, Mahidol University. For more information, see https://library.mahidol.ac.th/ search/t?SEARCH=Postulated+Reality.

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Overview The book is divided into four parts, namely, Building the framework, Merit-making under investigation, Conclusion, and Appendices. The first part (Chapter 1 to 7) is about building the groundwork. These include general introduction to the project and methodology used (Chapter 1). Chapter 2 to 6 are in the domain of ritual studies essential to the construction of the framework. They look like a mini course of ritual studies, but the main orientation is towards merit-making rituals. These chapters are moderately easy to follow, so they should be read respectively to gain the general understanding about ritual and to be familiar with the toolset. Chapter 7 depicts the model used in comprehensive analysis of the ritual. It just shows the final form of the model and short descriptions, no detailed explanations. So, the chapter itself is easy to read to get the big picture what will happen in the course. But to understand how the model comes is much more challenging. Not to distract general readers, I therefore move the detailed explanations to Appendices, which correspond to the model’s components. By this arrangement, Part I and the appendices are part of theoretical background of the thesis. That is to say, scholarly readers should read Chapter 7 along with the appendices to get the complete understanding. Whereas general readers may set the appendices aside and go on to the next part, or they can consult the appendices whenever deeper understanding is needed. The second part (Chapter 8 to 11) is about application. The framework developed will be applied here. Before the investigation, the general idea of ritual in Buddhism will be explored (Chapter 8) and merit-making ritual will be precisely defined (Chapter 9). Chapter 10 shows the result of structural analysis using the guideline from Chapter 6. And Chapter 11 shows the result of the analysis using the model in Chapter 7. By and large, this part is quite easy to read, and maybe enjoyable to some who are familiar with the ritual. But beware of provocative ideas presented along the way. The third part (Chapter 12 to 14) is conclusion. Everything will be wrapped up here, including implications, suggestions, as-

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Preface sessment, and reflections. From the writer’s point of view, I love this part the most. So, it should be read carefully and reflectively.

Limitations After I have freely distributed my works to the public in the Internet, I decide to do it likewise with this book, even if it has high possibility to get printed by any publishing house concerning Buddhism or Thai culture. The main reason of this free distribution is I want to make the book easy to access by everyone. The consequence of this is the book looks not so beautiful like those from leading publishing companies, still it looks far better than many quality books I have read, thanks to LATEX typesetting system. The format of the book is good enough for me, and for everyone in this purpose. At least, we can stay away from using ugly font faces, particularly Times New Roman, the ugliest of all, by which we normally use to print theses. That is a trivial limitation. A more serious one is about quality of the content. By not being passed the peer-review process and professional proofreaders/editors, the book may have defects, but it is of academic standard nonetheless. It is still good enough, or even the best, quality for a free academic book. ‘Free’ does not necessarily imply having poor quality. Another limitation is about the language. For English is not my native tongue and no one speaks English in my environment, my writings in this language mainly come from deliberate composition, not acquaintance. So, the reader definitely can find grammatical errors here and there. It is not a serious problem, however, because I think my writing style is clear enough to understand. If any error upon language occur, I do not apologize for that, instead I ask the reader to tolerate it. There are three cases the errors can be often found (typos and poor wording excluded): (a) articles (a/an and the)—which one should be used or omitted is really baffling for non-English speakers (even English users can feel this sometimes, I suppose); (b) singular or plural or abstract noun—which one should be used is also confusing sometimes2 ; and (c) that or which—which one 2 For example, I am still unsure whether we should use “They move their head” or “They move their heads.”

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should be use in complex sentences is difficult to make it sound right. All these cannot get help from spell-checking programs. Only deliberate reading can detect the glitch and correct it.

Conventions Since the current book deals with the Pali canon and Pali language, as well as Thai occasionally, I should describe my conventions used here. For I do not directly use Pali literature, I refer to them mainly by the translations. I also show Pāli passages together with their translation in a few places, though. And for this is not a textual study, references to the Pali canon are not done in the traditional way, except in some instances that I find helpful and not too confusing, such as those from Aṅguttara-nikāya (AN) and Saṃyutta-nikāya (SN). The long (DN) and middle-length (MN) discourses are also identified by their discourse number which is easy enough to follow up. The Vinaya and other nikāyas are referred only by their English translations. In a few places, when Pāli passages are cited, references from the Chaṭṭha Saṅgāyana collection are also given. Sometimes the discourse or passage number in English translations (possibly different from its Pali counterpart) is identified by a section mark (§) to ease the lookup. Vissuddhimagga (Vism) is also referred by its chapter and passage number (e.g., XVIII§32), together with its printed pages. On Pali transcription, words that are normally used as English terms are not transliterated except from quotes. These terms are Theravada, Mahayana, Pali, nirvana, karma, arhat, for instance. On Thai transcription, to make a distinction between Thai and Pali, I use English characters that can produce the closest sound rather than Pali characters, for example taalapat (ตาลปัตร, Thai for a ceremonial fan) not tālapat, and makkathaayok 3 (มัคทายก, colloquial Thai for ceremonial leaders) not maggadāyaka.

3 See

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an explanation in a note on page 125.

Preface

Acknowledgements For the success of the former thesis, I would like to express my gratitude to Dr. Milos Hubina, my adviser, who encouraged me to do whatever I want; to my co-advisers, Dr. Julia Estève and Dr. Jiri Holba (from Prague); to another thesis committee, Dr. Jan Vihan (from Prague); as well as to the faculty members at the time I studied, Dr. Matthew Kosuta, Dr. Imtiyaz Yusuf, Dr. Jeremy Saul, and Dr. Kieko Obuse. My appreciation also goes to monks and staff at Nam Thong Sikkhalai during the years I lived there, the head monk of the monastery where I spent time writing the thesis, as well as the staff of the College of Religious Studies, Mahidol University. And above all, I gratefully thank people who feed me everyday for making possible this kind of living and working environment.

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Contents Preface

iii

Contents

ix

List of Tables

xii

List of Figures

xiii

I.

Building the framework

1. Introduction

1.1. Motivations and rationale . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1.2. Methodological issues . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

1 3

3 5

2. Defining ritual

10

3. Characterizing ritual

16

4. Identifying ritual

27

5. Classifying ritual

34

6. Structuring ritual

38

7. Ritual analytic model

43

2.1. On ritual theory . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2.2. On definition of ritual . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.1. Bell’s chracteristics of ritual . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.2. Davis-Floyd’s chracteristics of ritual . . . . . . . . 3.3. Grimes’s chracteristics of ritual . . . . . . . . . . .

10 11 17 20 24

ix

Contents

II. Merit-making under investigation

47

8. Ritual in Buddhism

48

9. Defining merit-making

55

9.1. Merit-making as a ritual . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9.2. Two kinds of merit-making . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9.3. General procedure of merit-making . . . . . . . . .

10. Merit-making structural analysis

10.1. Ritual 10.2. Ritual 10.3. Ritual 10.4. Ritual 10.5. Ritual 10.6. Ritual

actions in merit-making . actors in merit-making . . places in merit-making . . times in merit-making . . objects in merit-making . languages in merit-making

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

11.1. Cognitive dimension . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.1.1. Effects on consciousness . . . . . . . . . . 11.1.2. Effects on emotions . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.1.3. Effects on memory . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.1.4. Counterintuitive elements . . . . . . . . . 11.2. Bodily dimension . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.2.1. Bodily metaphor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.2.2. Bodily metonymy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.3. Communicative dimension . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.3.1. Iconic relation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.3.2. Indexical relation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.3.3. Symbolic relation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.4. Performative dimension . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.4.1. Exhibiting level . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.4.2. Performativity analysis . . . . . . . . . . 11.5. Discursive dimension . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.5.1. Analysis of system of knowledge . . . . . 11.5.2. Analysis of social identities and relations . 11.6. Constitutive dimension . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.6.1. Disposition analysis . . . . . . . . . . . . 11.6.2. Capital analysis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis

x

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

. . . . . .

55 58 59

66

66 72 74 76 77 80

90

90 90 91 92 92 94 94 95 97 97 98 99 100 100 102 105 105 122 126 127 133

Contents

III. Conclusions

138

12. Implications of the results

139

13. Methodological assessment and suggestions

13.1. On 13.2. On 13.3. On 13.4. On

cognitive dimension . . . . . . . . . . . . . bodily dimension . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . communicative and performative dimension discursive and constitutive dimension . . .

. . . .

. . . .

149

151 158 159 160

14. Final reflections

164

IV. Appendices

171

A. Cognitive dimension of ritual

172

B. Bodily dimension of ritual

183

C. Communicative dimension of ritual

190

D. Performative dimension of ritual

204

C.1. Semiotics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 198 D.1. Ritual as exhibition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205 D.2. Speech acts . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207

E. Discursive dimension of ritual

E.1. E.2. E.3. E.4. E.5.

Sapir-Whorf hypothesis Understanding . . . . . Hermeneutics . . . . . . Knowledge . . . . . . . . Ideology and discourse .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

. . . . .

213

215 218 232 244 248

F. Constitutive dimension of ritual

256

Bibliography

267

About the author

297

Colophon

298

xi

List of Tables 7.1. Main questions in the ritual analytic model . . . .

45

11.1. Result of performativity analysis . . . . . . . . . . 103

xii

List of Figures 7.1. Ritual comprehensive model . . . . . . . . . . . . .

44

9.1. A typical setting of merit-making ceremony . . . .

60

10.1. Beeswax in lustral water . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

79

E.1. Kanizsa triangle illusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220 E.2. Levels of language processing . . . . . . . . . . . . 221 E.3. Duck-rabbit and vase-face illusion . . . . . . . . . . 226

xiii

Part I.

Building the framework

1

1. Introduction In large part, this chapter is taken from the first chapter of the thesis.

1.1. Motivations and rationale As a student of religious studies in a country that has one dominant religion, i.e., Buddhism, to make a distinction between Buddhist studies and religious studies using Buddhism as an object of study is not easy. The former is marked by rigorous textual studies undertaking mainly by the two Buddhist universities and other academic departments that have “Buddhism” in their concern. The latter is relatively new, and the college to which this thesis is submitted is the only one in this country, as far as I know by now, that holds this kind of program. What a research in religious studies should be thus is my main concern in this research design. This makes me put a lot of focus on developing a theoretical framework and methodology, for they can be a viable tool for my future research and the field in general. That is my first motivation, but it is too broad to be a good research question. Finding a living case study will be easier to study, for we have a tangible object to examine. But fieldwork is not my answer, because it takes time and effort in collecting data that costs me much time instead of spending in developing the framework. My solution is “working on what you know best.” Here comes my selection of merit-making ritual as the case. I have two reasons. First, as a monk by nearly a decade1 , I know this well on my daily basis. There is no need to do any fieldwork on this activity to get reliable, elaborate data. I use myself as the field, or, to look in another way, I have been conducted participant 1 At the time of this writing, I have been a mendicant for nearly fourteen years.

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1. Introduction observation for a long time. That is my advantage over foreign researchers who might spend a year or more to get the same amount of data. Second, I am interested more in the practical aspect of religion than the doctrinal one. In my view, religion is substantially reflected from what people really do, not what they believe or say about their religion. And ritual is the most visible platform of religious practice. In Buddhist context, merit-making is the most regular religious activity which is able to reflect an accurate picture of Thai Buddhists’ mentality and their way of living. That is how merit-making comes into the scene and leads to a further consideration. Then comes my second motivation. What do I really want to know about my religion? By keeping asking this question, I come up with another: How do we hold that something is real? This question interests me in some respects. First, I do not want to know what is the genuine teaching of the Buddha, because this can be done only by meticulous textual studies which is not appealing to me and many have done this already—still, controversies abound. Second, I do not want to know what is real in Buddhist doctrine, because I think I can find the answer better from somewhere else, say a scientific study of the subject. Also I quite agree with this: Religions are powerful not because they reveal transcendent truths or the effects of an ontologized ‘History’, but because they serve as instruments in the communicative formation of identity and provide people with a concrete script of action.2 What is real in a religion is not a problem for me, but how it is regarded as real is more interesting, so to speak. Third, I do not want to know what people believe and do precisely in the name of Buddhism. That is why I rule out fieldwork together with a mass survey and interview as the method. I am more curious in how come people have a particular belief and practice. An intriguing point is that when the belief and practice are looked closely, they have some respects at odds with the well-established doctrinal stance. 2 von

4

Stuckrad 2003, p. 269

1.2. Methodological issues Merit-making ceremony is an obvious and prevalent example of this. While making merit by giving things to monks is endorsed by the doctrine as a wholesome act, there are also magical elements, which are normally regarded as non-Buddhist, in that performance. By merit-making targeted in this study, I do not include all actions Buddhists regard as meritorious. It is a formal kind of that action with an elaborate ceremony. This will be explained exhaustively in Part II. Then my question could be “How do magical elements find their way to be incorporated in Buddhist rituals?” But I really have no curiosity in this question. To find out that how an unusual article happens to be there, one must have a presupposition of misplacing first. This can make the problem difficult to answer is an unbiased way. Considering the mind of ritual performers, I think whatever they choose to do in a ritual, it must be perceived as real. If it is not real, they will not bother doing it. There must be some reality in any ritual. Does reality come first, or ritual come first? If reality comes first, ritual must conform to that account. That is to say, Buddhist rituals have to be in accordance with Buddhist reality. This is not really the case, as mentioned earlier. That means ritual somehow can modify or even establish the reality. This sounds much more interesting. Thus, I put forward my main research question this way: “How does a ritual, merit-making in particular, create a reality that makes people conform to?”

1.2. Methodological issues Now I will explain how to answer my research question. Unfortunately for religious studies, there is no specific methodology in the field. We have to borrow methods from other fields. The good side of this lack is that we can use any method as long as it can bring us the answer. And the hard side is there is no suitable method for some particular problem. We have to tailor a method to accommodate our purpose. Let us dissect my question to see what complexity it implies. First, asking ‘how’ is about mechanism, or how it works that way, not about purposes or reasons normally intended by a ‘why’

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1. Introduction question. Sometimes the two respects are very close, but my focus is on the ‘how’ issue. To know how a particular thing works, first we must know what it is. We will deal with definition of ritual at the beginning. It is a good start to have a clear picture of the object before we study it. After that, we must know its constituent parts, and know how each part works and relates. There is a model available from a ritual theorist. We can apply this with some adaptation. The discussion of ritual in general is articulated in Chapter 2–6. That can answer how a ritual works, but not how it creates certain reality. Here comes the challenging part. Mentioning the concept of reality inevitably involves philosophical issues. Asking what is real is a main concern in philosophy, and I do not intend to go that way. I do not want to address the problem philosophically, even if some ideas have to be brought into account in that manner. I am not concerned with what is the reality out there (metaphysics), or how to know it (epistemology), but rather what are those that people hold as real, and how (this, anyway, can be seen as a kind of collective or social epistemology). What is really real is completely outside my concern. An individual can know what is real, in a very general sense, by one’s own direct perception. A dog one sees and touches is real, so are a tree, a rock, and a human being. How about a spirit? Those who believe there are spirits somewhere hold that stance mostly because they are told so. Even if they see or touch something looks like a spirit, they count it as a spirit, hence real, because it is supposed to be that thing by being said so. The perception is real, but the inference from that is mostly said so. That means the sense of reality can be created by a mediated way. And language is one of the most effective medium that can do the job. Before we go to ritual, our main concern, let us get familiar with language first. When I say language makes reality, I does not mean that saying thing out loud will make that thing come into being magically. I mean language is the frame of reference that gives us the sense of reality. When scientists say an electron is real, it is so within its representational system. I do not say that electricity is just a word. You can feel it by yourself. It is real empirically. It is also ‘real’

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1.2. Methodological issues symbolically in scientific discourse. In a religion we have much abstract concepts, like spirits or merit, which are awkwardly regarded as empirically real. But for those who believe them, they are real within their operating discourse. The notion of discourse illustrated here is crucial to my conceptual framework. The term ‘discourse’ has two poles of meaning. The first used within linguistics simply means utterances conveying any kind of meaning. The second is more used in the social sciences which are “not simple groupings of utterances or statements, but consist of utterances which have meaning, force and effect within a social context.”3 By this second sense, spirits and merit are counted as real because a religious discourse has a certain force to make them as such. Discourses establish what we call knowledge. By this view, Kocku von Stuckrad introduces discursive approach to religious studies, defining discourses as “communicative structures that organize knowledge in a given community; they establish, stabilize, and legitimize systems of meaning.”4 That is to say, the function of language is not only for communication, but also making things happen. Linguists call the latter function performative. And the field that particularly studies this aspect of language is called discourse analysis—“the study of how to do things with words.”5 In religious matter, texts or scriptures are not only providing us knowledge related to that religion, but also “the very reality they appear to describe.”6 Religious reality is therefore created by religious discourses rooted in the religious texts. For religious scriptures are not my primary target (but I have some treatment on this issue), how to use the concept of discourse to explain ritual is my concern. Stanley Tambiah notes that ritual is “a culturally constructed system of symbolic communication.”7 He also notes that the symbolic use in ritual has a “duplex structure,” because it combines two roles: (a) semantic role, associating a symbol with its represented object by a convention, and (b) pragmatic role, indexing to the existential relation 3 Mills

2004, p. 11 Stuckrad 2014, p. 11 5 Hjelm 2011, p. 134 6 Said 2003, p. 94 7 Tambiah 1985, p. 128 4 von

7

1. Introduction with the object.8 Thus, Tambiah sees ritual represents the idea of cosmology, “at the same time indexically legitimates and realizes social hierarchies.”9 By this account, ritual works much like language, and it makes sense to see it as a discourse or a product of discourses. Von Stuckrad (2003) sees this approach as discursive turn of the study of religion. It is relatively new to the field, and has a significant, revealing appeal. As Richard Payne and Taigen Dan Leighton put it, “everything we know about religion exists within a discursive field, and carries ideological connotations.”10 There is another term introduced here, i.e., ideology. A subfield called critical discourse analysis (CDA) has an aim to “‘demystify’ discourses by deciphering ideologies.”11 This suggests us that when a particular meaning is made by a discourse, it inevitably engages with power. As John B. Thompson says “meaning may be mobilized in the service of power and domination.”12 For ritual is a ‘normal’ way to do certain things, when this “‘proper’ ways of thinking about and doing things are constructed from a particular perspective … discourse [or ritual in this case] is said to function ideologically.”13 The notion of ideology is therefore another idea we have to deal with when discourse is taken into account. However, there is a twist concerning this issue as we shall see in due course. I am not so critical to the role of power involved in ritual performance, but I take critical stance as Fairclough puts it that critique is “essentially making visible the interconnectedness of things.”14 Practically speaking, discourse analysis for ritual can be troublesome, because there are a number of components unrelated to language in ritual performance. How to analyze these nonlinguistic elements is still uncharted, unlike discourse analysis for which we have some guidelines. A related method called mediated discourse analysis (MDA) may be able to fulfill this application, but I have not enough time to venture into this method. That is 8 Tambiah

1985, p. 156 155 10 Payne and Leighton 2006b, p. 6 11 Wodak 2001, p. 10 12 Thompson 1984, p. 132 13 Chouliaraki and Fairclough 1999, p. 26 14 Fairclough 1985, p. 747 9 p.

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1.2. Methodological issues the task I need to figure out by myself. Furthermore, to understand the issue comprehensively, we need to expand the frame from interpersonal level, which language is dominant, down to individual level which concern with personal cognition and motor response, as well as up to social level which collective reality and practice are formed by ritual. This leads me to the development of ritual comprehensive model as articulated fully in Chapter 7. The theoretical part of the model touches a vast array of disciplines, notably biology, cognitive psychology, linguistics, semiotics, communication studies, literary studies, cultural studies, hermeneutics, philosophy, anthropology, and sociology. This is the most substantial part of the whole work. It is a conceptual framework with a wide theoretical spectrum. However, my approach can be by and large characterized as a cultural study of religion which draws a good theoretical portion from literary/cultural studies. By the approach described, I have a problem to classify my research method. Of course, it is a qualitative one with an elaborate theoretical framework developed to address a particular concern. However, it is not entirely a dry theoretical work, for the model is put into test with living data, i.e., merit-making rituals. I also see my method used as a scientific study of religion, or ritual in this case. My habit of thinking and addressing to any problem is generally scientific, because I was trained that way. The process is straightforward: (a) identify the problem, (b) form a hypothesis/theory, (c) make/apply a tool, (d) test the hypothesis/theory, and (e) assess the outcome. I hope that my idiosyncratic approach to this ordinary subject can contribute something to religious/ritual/cultural studies both methodologically and conceptually.

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2. Defining ritual 2.1. On ritual theory The aim of this chapter and the following ones about ritual are to examine and discuss theory of ritual in general. By ‘general’ I mean two things. First, it is not specific to a particular kind of ritual. Ideas discussed here, to a large extent, can be applied to any kind of rituals. Yet, I draw only some perspectives from the sea of ritual theories that are relevant to my specific case study. This makes the approach less general inevitably. It is unavoidable to be so, because drawing everything into consideration is simply impossible. And my first and foremost objective is not to understand ritual in general, but a particular kind of ritual called merit-making. However, in a hope for a wider application, generality can be seen, to some degree, in a coherent way. Second, it is not a parochial approach that has an eccentric point of view. My way of seeing things is commonsensical, at least at the starting point. Even though complexity can grow considerably in some parts due to comprehensive data involved, it is still in the purview of rationality. General readers can reach the same conclusion by the line of my reasoning. In spite of my precision and all-embracing nature, I still think as an ordinary person. Ritual studies is a difficult field, richer in detail than religious studies. This field of study, much like religious studies, is multidisciplinary and multifarious. Thus, there is no such thing as the general theory of ritual. Numerous scholars from various fields try to make sense of ritual in their own way and interest. Many theories or explanations have been formed over generations, as well as their critiques and acceptance. This makes territory of ritual theories complex, as we see in Catherine Bell’s explorations (1992, 1997). Once we step into the jungle of ritual theories, it is hard to get through easily.

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2.2. On definition of ritual My intention is not to make this theoretical space more intricate by adding another theory. My job is to understand Thai Buddhist merit-making ritual in the light of existing theories, if there are useful some, and to make a new tool for study to serve my specific purpose, if there is no viable one. In this chapter and the following, I will discuss some basic issues of ritual which can be related to merit-making in a reasonable way. Some theories will be explained and discussed in depth if I am going to make use of them, some are just mentioned or acknowledged, and some are simply ignored, not because they have no value, but they are irrelevant to my project.

2.2. On definition of ritual Defining the object in hand is a typical opening when we begin to discuss something. Let us start with the most general approach— dictionary definitions. In the American Heritage Dictionary (5th ed.), the first definition of ‘ritual’ as a noun means “A ceremony in which the actions and wording follow a prescribed form and order.”1 For ‘ceremony,’ the first meaning by this dictionary is “A formal act or set of acts performed as prescribed by ritual or custom.”2 Ceremony seems to be a subset of ritual here. The third definition is more interesting: “A formal act without intrinsic purpose; an empty form.” For example, we usually ask for comments from meeting members when we present some idea, even if we do not suppose to get some. We do it as a ‘ceremony’ for the sake of politeness according to this account. Another related word, ‘rite,’ in this dictionary is more or less the same as ‘ritual.’ The distinct idea of ‘ritual’ we get here is “a certain formal activity prescribed regardless of its domain.” The Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary offers similar ideas. The entry of ‘ritual’ has “the established form for a ceremony” and “any formal and customarily repeated act or series of acts.”3 Like mentioned above, ‘ceremony’ has similar accounts, and ‘rite’ is a circular description of ‘ritual.’ We get an additional key concept of ‘ritual’ here: repeated act. 1 https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=ritual

2 https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=ceremony 3 Webster’s

Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary 1987, p. 1018

11

2. Defining ritual Etymologically speaking, both ‘ritual’ and ‘rite’ came from the same Latin root ritus which means number, or calculation (the same root of ‘arithmetic’). In the Webster’s International Dictionary of the English Language (1907 Edition), Sanskrit word riti (ṛti) is related, from its root ri—to flow.4 From MacDonell’s Sanskrit-English Dictionary, rîti means “stream, current; motion, course; line, row; (course of things), manner, method, way; style, diction.”5 Aldo Natale Terrin sees that ‘ritual’ means symbolic behavior by its own terms which derives from the aforementioned IndoEuropean root ri, like ‘rhyme’, ‘rhythm’ and ‘river’ signifying “an ordered flow, governed by rules, repetitions, and conventions.”6 Tracing back to its root and related words is quite revealing. Another Sanskrit term that has similar meaning is vidhi—rule, method, procedure, manner, action, rite, ceremony.7 This term is also used in Pali to mean similarly “form, way; rule, direction, disposition, method”8 , and subsequently used by Thais as withee (วิธี, method) and phithee (พิธี, ceremony). From this account, I think the relation between the word ‘rite’ or ‘ritual’ (English) and ‘vidhi’ (Pali/Sanskrit) or ‘phithee’ (Thai) is strikingly close. The main idea we get from these root-related words is that ritual is about flow of action regulated somehow by rules. Exploring some other dictionaries, I found the accounts go more or less in the same way. If dictionaries are records of language uses over time, a simplest general notion of ritual that people perceive can be drawn as “any kind of action or a series of actions we do it in a formal, repeated, and rule-governed way.” There is no distinction between religious and secular ritual in general use. This general definition is a good place to start, but it lacks one critical aspect unmentioned in any dictionary. It is the force that ritual can make things happen or transformed, and make people obliged to the rules directed by ritual. This point has a lot to do with my thesis which will be unfolded in due course. For now, let us take a short tour to the complexity of the definitions of the term used in academia. 4 Webster’s

International Dictionary of the English Language 1907, p. 1245 1893, p. 255 6 Terrin 2007, p. 3942 7 MacDonell 1893, p. 284 8 Rhys Davids and Stede 1921–25, p. 81; see also Heim 2004, pp. 83–4 5 MacDonell

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2.2. On definition of ritual Edmund Leach tells us that in the Oxford English Dictionary from the fourteenth century, there are two distinct common usages of the terms rite (ritual), ceremony (ceremonial), and custom (customary). In the first usage, these terms are used interchangeably to mean any prescribed predictable actions that cannot be justified by rational explanations. In the second usage, ritual (or rite, for Leach does not distinguish these two words) is specifically associated with religious performance, whereas ceremony and custom are more used for secular situations.9 Leach also mentions Max Gluckman who elaborates the distinctions among ceremony, ceremonious, ritual, ritualism, and ritualization.10 I have no information about Gluckman on this issue. To illustrate the point, I then draw a similar case. Melford Spiro also has his own typology of this word-group. For Spiro, ritual is the “generic term for any kind of cult behavior.” Rite is the “minimum significant unit of ritual behavior.” Ceremony is the “smallest configuration of rites constituting a meaningful ritual whole.” And ceremonial is the “total configuration of the ceremonies performed during any ritual occasion”.11 This might be nitpicky as it sounds, but that is the way he defines his working terms. I see no one following this typology. For there are many riddles to be solved along the way, I minimize the problem concerning the words used. Throughout this thesis, I use ‘ritual’ loosely as and interchangeably with ‘ceremony.’ In some context, I prefer using ‘ceremony’ as procedural actions, and ‘ritual’ as activity in whole. I will never use the word ‘rite’ in a general way, except rite of passage. Sometimes I drop the terms altogether, referring to the activity simply as ‘merit-making.’ I agree with Leach that ritual is not “a fact of nature” but “a concept.”12 The definition we use should be operational, and I add “and easy to handle.” As we have seen, defining ritual academically is not an easy job. It is a “notoriously problematic task”13 , and there is no consensus of “precise meaning”14 . There are endless numbers of definitions 9 Leach

1968, p. 521 521 11 Spiro 1982, p. 199 12 Leach 1968, p. 521 13 Snoek 2006, p. 3 14 Leach 1966, p. 403 10 p.

13

2. Defining ritual which are far from any unison, of course some can be close to one another. To understand the situation, I draw some definitions of ritual onto the stage. In addition to Spiro mentioned above, Victor Turner (in Forest of Symbols) differentiates ‘ritual’ from ‘ceremony.’ For him, both terms are a form of religious behavior, but in a different implication. ‘Ritual’ associates with social transitions, whereas ‘ceremony’ associates with social states where “politicallegal institutions also have greater importance.” Turner sums up succinctly “Ritual is transformative, ceremony confirmatory”.15 Roy Rappaport (in Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity) has a different focus when he uses the term ‘ritual’ to signify “the performance of more or less invariant sequences of formal acts and utterances not entirely encoded by the performers”.16 Jonathan Z. Smith (in The Bare Facts of Ritual) proposes a more abstract idea. For him, ‘ritual’ is “a means of performing the way things ought to be in such a way that this ritualized perfection is collected in the ordinary, uncontrolled course of things”.17 For a more cognitive concern, Thomas Lawson and Robert McCauley (in Rethinking Religion) define (religious) ‘ritual’ as “religious actions whose structural descriptions include a logical object and appeal to a culturally postulated superhuman agent’s action somewhere within their overall structural description.”18 And another different focus, echoing Rappaport, Caroline Humphrey and James Laidlaw (in The Archetypal Actions of Ritual) note: “Action is ritualized if the acts of which it is composed are constituted not by the intentions which the actor has in performing them, but by prior stipulation.”19 Here is how Ronald Grimes uses the words. For him, ‘rite’ (from ritus) means “specific enactments located in concrete times and places.”20 Rite here is equivalent to a ritual which can be performed and observed somewhere some time. By ‘ritual’ (from ritualis) Grimes means the abstraction or “general idea of which 15 V.

Turner 1967, p. 95 1999, p. 27 17 Smith 1980, p. 125 18 Lawson and McCauley 1990, p. 176 19 Humphrey and Laidlaw 1994, p. 97 20 Grimes 2014, p. 192 16 Rappaport

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2.2. On definition of ritual a rite is a specific instance.”21 So, ritual does not exist in time and space, just an abstract idea in mind. Apart form this, he uses ‘ritualizing’ to denote “the act of cultivating or inventing rites.”22 And ‘ritualization’ means “the repetitious bodily stylization that constitutes the baseline of quotidian human social interaction.”23 Ritualization used by Grimes is the same idea used by ethologists (those who study behavioral patterns of animals, like dancing in bees, grooming in chimpanzees). This draws us to biology, particularly the Darwinian theory of evolution. Biologically speaking, animals’ repetitive behaviors or ritualization is “a selective process that allows for the enhanced communication of evolutionary advantageous information and emotional states.”24 Catherine Bell also uses the word ‘ritualization,’ but in a different sense. For her, ritualization is “culturally specific strategies for setting some activities off from others.”25 This use echoes Pierre Bourdieu who sees ritual gives us the sense of separation26 , from the sacred for example. Ritualization also reflects the dynamic process of ritual making and changing. Bell notices that even though ritual is deemed to stick with its tradition “faithfully,” it always has “choices and changes.”27 In sum, the real definition of ‘ritual’ is really hard to come by. We only get some of working definitions based on what is in focus of the users. I likewise have my own way of identifying ritual as my operational concept. Before we go to that point, some issue has to be addressed first.

21 p.

192 193 23 p. 193 24 Stephenson 2015, p. 10 25 Bell 1992, p. 74 26 Bourdieu 1990b, p. 211 27 Bell 2005, p. 7848 22 p.

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3. Characterizing ritual Since defining ritual clearly seems to be troublesome, some scholars do not bother defining it but looking for recognizable patterns instead. Finding out what ritual looks like may be a more viable way to capture the idea than just saying what it is. Let us start with a simple list. Pascal Boyer and Pierre Liénard, from a psychiatric perspective, prefer talking about ‘ritualized behavior’ rather than ‘ritual’ which they see as vague and confusing. They characterize ritualized behaviors as “goal-demotion, scriptedness, redundancy, and compulsion.”1 When people tie shoe-laces even they were already in place, or when people wash their hands over and over more than they really require, it is a ritualized behavior with goal-demotion.2 Simply put, the action is irrelevant to its goal. This can be a sign of mental illness, but in most situations people perform rituals sanely. The idea that doing something even the specific result is unlikely yielded may give us a parallel picture that in a ritual people do one thing in order to get other thing else. People dance or shower a cat to cause a rain, for example.3 In this situation, people do not really know how rain works, but they are pressed to do something anyway (Boyer and Liénard call this urge compulsion). So, they perform that ritual by leaving the causal mechanism obscure. This opacity of causality is an important characteristic of ritual (more about this in due course). Scriptedness, adherence to form, is also important to ritual. In ritualized behavior, the form is the past action that people keep up its pattern by performing it exactly the same way every time. When a deviation occurs, it can cause a negative emotion or a sense of danger. This characteristic relates to redundancy or 1 Boyer

and Liénard 2006, p. 636, also p. 598 589 3 This is a Thai folk ritual called haenangmaew (แห่นางแมว), rarely practiced but occasionally seen. 2 p.

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3.1. Bell’s chracteristics of ritual repetition of the behavior. Rather than a one-time action, ritual gets repeated. However, Boyer and Liénard see this in a more specific way. For them, in ritualized behavior “[w]hat matters is the exact number”4 —the action is performed sequently in an exact number of time, say, three or five or ten every time. This reminds us to Freud’s legacy of associating ritual with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorders (OCD), but this is another issue (more on this in Appendix A). For redundancy is a marked aspect of ritual, we will further discuss this again. Let us move on to a leading scholar of the field.

3.1. Bell’s chracteristics of ritual In Ritual: Perspectives and Dimensions, Catherine Bell lists six characteristics of ritual-like activities, namely formalism, traditionalism, invariance, rule-governance, sacral symbolism, and performance.5 Bell’s analysis is somewhat subtle and complicated. Let us make a brief tour of these. Catherine Bell’s six chracteristics of ritual 1. formalism 2. traditionalism 3. invariance 4. rule-governance 5. sacral symbolism 6. performance Even though it is not confined to ritual exclusively, formalism is one of the most obvious features of ritual.6 In one sense, it means seriousness. When we perform a ritual, we do it formally, not in a casual way. In another sense, it means ritual has a restricted way of expression. It follows a certain form which limited actions are allowed. Following Basil Bernstein, a socio-linguist, Mary Douglas calls this “restricted code” in contrast with “elaborated code” which has more alternative expressions and flexibility. Using elaborated 4 Boyer

and Liénard 2006, p. 598 1997, pp. 139–64 6 see also Rappaport 1979, p. 175 5 Bell

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3. Characterizing ritual code, the speaker can make “his own intentions explicit.”7 But when restricted code is used, “utterances have a double purpose: they convey information, yes, but they also express the social structure, embellish and reinforce it.”8 By using restricted code, ritual is impersonalized and becomes conventional. Consequently, people tend to tolerate its tedium and accept the message with less resistance. As Bell puts it, “formalized speech appears to induce acceptance, compliance, or at least forbearance with regard to any overt challenge”.9 This echoes Maurice Bloch when he sees that in formalized communication “rebellion is impossible and only revolution could be feasible.”10 We have a lot to discuss about communication in ritual, including code (see Appendix C and E). For the fact that form entails certain rules to be conformed with, ritual also has the characteristic of rule-governance. This can make ritual and other rule-based activities, such as games and sports, look alike. To differentiate ritual from these activities, we have to consider other decisive criteria. This shall be discussed later. When the form is set up, people tend to preserve the way of doing ritual in the established way. Ritual has a large part depending on authorities of the past. This is the traditionalism of ritual. As the account on formality of ritual illustrated, we can see in the other way round: traditions make use of ritual to perpetuate themselves. Formalization and ritualization is essential in making traditions by the way of referring “to the past, if only by imposing repetition.”11 This can explain why Bell does not include repetition in her ritual characteristic list. Ritual is not simply about doing something over and over again. Repetition is either a part of ritual form (formalism), or a part of the situation whereby ritual is performed (traditionalism), or the significance of it upon the actors (invariance). Invariance might sound obscure and redundant, but it has some appealing feature. Invariance can be seen “in a disciplined set 7 Douglas

1966, p. 24 24 9 Bell 1997, p. 140 10 Bloch 1974, p. 64 11 Hobsbawm 1983, p. 4 8 p.

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3.1. Bell’s chracteristics of ritual of actions marked by precise repetition and physical control.”12 Instead of emphasizing the past maintained by the tradition, invariance stresses on the timeless feature of ritual—the present moment. Monastic practices are a good example of this. Monks have a daily routine they follow ritually. In this situation, ritual is not separate from day to day life, rather it is a part of the living. As noted by Bell, “all of life is made as consistently ritual-like as possible in the service of a religious goal.”13 By this view, ritual can be a training platform for cultivating certain dispositions. I will make use of this implication in a significant way further. Sacral symbolism in ritual is marked by the use of symbolic meaning that sets the sacred realm and the profane apart. The sacred here is not necessary supernatural, but significant in some way. Ritual can make things sacred by putting some meaning on it. The designation of the national flag is a good example here. The last characteristic in Bell’s list is performance the marked aspect ritual shares with theatrical performances, dramatic spectacles, and public events. But instead of being just an audience, all participants of ritual are the actors. In performing ritual, actors use their sensory organs to experience the world in a “condensed totality.” By so doing, ritual can shape one’s “experience and cognitive ordering of the world.”14 Although these characteristics are clear to us that ritual has a recognizable pattern, Bell maintains that “there is no intrinsic or universal understandings of what constitutes ritual.”15 Ritual can still mean different things to different people. This statement can render our attempt to grasp the essence of ritual worthless. I defy this conclusion, because I think it is our duty as a ritual theorist to make it clear enough to understand, if not entirely lucid. And Bell has already done a significant job on this issue. At least she sees this as a fundamental dimension of ritualization— “the simple imperative to do something in such a way that the doing itself gives the acts a special or privileged status.”16 Setting things apart might be the most important aspect in doing a ritual according to this view. 12 Bell

1997, p. 150 151 14 p. 161 15 p. 164 16 p. 166, emphasis in original 13 p.

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3. Characterizing ritual Before we wrap up the ideas, let us go through some other scholars who enumerate ritual characteristics in other ways.

3.2. Davis-Floyd’s chracteristics of ritual Robbie Davis-Floyd lists nine characteristics of ritual, including: (a) the symbolic nature of ritual’s message; (b) its embeddedness in a cognitive matrix (belief system); (c) ritual drivers—rhythmic repetition and redundancy; (d) the use of specific tools, technologies, and clothing; (e) the framing of ritual performances—their set-apartness from everyday life; (f) order and formality; (g) the sense of inviolability and inevitability that is established during ritual performances; (h) the acting, stylization, and staging that often give ritual its elements of high drama, and the fact that it is performed; and (i) often, a ludic dimension—the inclusion of play within the ritual frame.17 In the first item, Davis-Floyd contrasts between verbal and symbolic messages. While verbal messages are analyzed intellectually by the left hemisphere of our brain, symbols are taken in by the right hemisphere as a gestalt18 —the whole picture. As a result, the meanings of symbols are often unconsciously assimilated. Davis-Floyd sees this as a mode of learning—experiential mode, in contrast with didactic (explicit teaching) mode. He notes that experiential learning is by far the better way of inculcating habitual behaviors, due to its long-lasting effect. The account of experiential mode of learning remind us to invariance in Bell’s list. And this dichotomy has a similarity with Harvey Whitehouse’s imagistic mode and doctrinal mode of religiosity (discussed in Appendix A). But, I think internalizing behaviors has little to do with meaning or symbolism of ritual. The key action is to undergo a memorable experience in the ritual which the actors perform. The 17 Davis-Floyd 18 p.

20

260

2008, p. 260

3.2. Davis-Floyd’s chracteristics of ritual performance, not symbols, plays the major role. However, the symbolic nature of ritual is important nonetheless; we have a treatment on this in Appendix C. In the next item, Davis-Floyd talks about ‘cognitive matrix’ by which he means ‘belief system.’ The term was used formerly by Eugene d’Aquili which is meant a myth structure in which the ritual is embedded.19 To my understanding, cognitive matrix in this sense is the cultural fountainhead from which everything springs. This originator is embedded with certain specific beliefs and values. When something comes up, it is imbued with these beliefs and values. Ritual is generated from this matrix. We can always see some specific beliefs and values in any ritual. I see this account revealing, and I discuss this social dimension of ritual in Appendix E and F. Repetition and redundancy drive all rituals. This is the general concept associated with ritual as we have seen several times from the dictionary definitions to the characteristic lists. There are two senses of repetition. First, we do the action mostly in the same way every time. This is a matter of form of ritual actions. In communication theory, we call redundancy of the message, like we say the same thing repeatedly for ensuring its accuracy. Redundancy helps combat noise.20 Ritual does likewise to strengthen the experiential memories. The second sense of repetition is rhythmicity. In some rituals, rhythmic patterns are the key part of the actions, like dances and recitations. Davis-Floyd notes that rhythmic performances generate a “high degree of limbic arousal.”21 This effect can synchronize individuals with the group and reinforce the sense of unity. We can see that repetition in ritual has key roles in multiple levels. In individual level, repetition affects our cognitive functions. In interpersonal level, repetition as redundancy in communication is important. And in social level, repetition again plays a crucial role in socialization or social learning. Ritual can do these all at the same time. On the notion of repetition, Maurice Bloch has a noteworthy 19 d’Aquili

and Laughlin Jr. 1975, p. 35, pp. 40–1 and Weaver 1949, p. 22, 75 21 Davis-Floyd 2008, p. 260 20 Shannon

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3. Characterizing ritual idea. For him, repetition in ritual is a form of ‘quotation,’ or deference by his use. Rituals are “orgies of conscious deference.”22 It is much like that we usually quote words from authors whose authority we trust. We regard their words as truth, even though sometimes we cannot understand the things. In ritual, likewise we do as authorities tell us without any clear understanding. We just do that and defer our judgment to authorities. By this view, repetition links closely to reliability. We do it repeatedly because we regard it as true. This can be the case in general sense, I agree. But it is also true on the contrary, as pointed out by Marian Schwartz, that the more often we repeat the action, the more its truth value increases.23 In the fourth item, Davis-Floyd talks about the use of specific tools, technologies, and clothing in ritual. I see this characteristic trivial, because every activity has its own specific tools, technologies, and clothing. When I go jogging, I have to use a specific tool like running shoes, use some technology like a timer, and wear a proper outfit. No one calls daily jogging a ritual. However, this can make more sense when we talk about framing function of ritual—setting apart from everyday life. Specific tools used in ritual are not those we use in our regular life. Settingapart is the key characteristic of ritual for some scholars, notably Catherine Bell mentioned above—possibly following Pierre Bourdieu. Generally speaking, two realms are set apart by ritual, roughly represented by the sacred and the profane. The exact meaning of the two is floating. Émile Durkheim sees religion has a direct relation to the sacred things “set apart and forbidden.”24 For him, the sacred connects with the realm of community, whereas the profane is the individual concerns.25 The key role of ritual is to set the two realms apart. On a different view, Mircea Eliade, following Rudolf Otto’s idea of the Numinous26 , puts the sacred into the supernatural sphere—“things extraordinary, memorable, and momentous”—in contrast with the profane—“things ordinary, random, and largely 22 Bloch

2004, p. 77 1982 24 Durkheim 1915, p. 47 25 Pals 2006, p. 96 26 Otto 1923 23 Schwartz

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3.2. Davis-Floyd’s chracteristics of ritual unimportant.”27 To Eliade, the sacred is “equivalent to a power, and, in the last analysis, to reality.”28 By this view, religious ritual sets apart what is real from what is not. To the supernatural I have no interest, but regarding it as reality is intriguing. The implication is that ritual can somehow set things up and make them real. We will talk about this in a great extent in the appendices. The sixth item is about order and formality. This means seriousness of the performance mentioned earlier. This seriousness strengthens the setting-apart nature of ritual. And I think it is a matter of degree depending on the situation. From my experience of merit-making, the degree of formality depends on social status of the participants, especially the one who presides the event. The higher the status, the more serious the ceremony runs. The sense of inviolability and inevitability can be understood in psychological terms as compulsion mentioned by Boyer and Liénard, or invariance mentioned by Bell. It may feel like “there is something to be done, and we have to do it anyway.” By this, Davis-Floyd sees “ritual enhances courage.”29 Again, I think it is a matter of degree. In most cases, at least in my Buddhist context, there is always a leeway allowing us to do otherwise in some degree. The next item is about acting, stylization, and staging which make ritual a kind of staged drama. We have seen this in performance mentioned by Bell. The point is similar, as noted by Davis-Floyd: “The more dramatic ritual is, the more effectively it engages the emotions.”30 However, performance and emotions are not necessarily related, particularly in Buddhist rituals. We shall see this in due course. In the last item, Davis-Floyd sees that ritual “often has an intensely ludic (playful) dimension.”31 This aspect somehow contradicts to the seriousness in formality—how playfulness can be taken seriously? However, it can be, in some case, that some ritual has a playful episode as a part of its actions. We may mostly see this in performance-based rituals, but less likely in religious 27 Pals

2006, p. 199 1957, p. 12, emphasis in original 29 Davis-Floyd 2008, p. 261 30 p. 261 31 p. 261 28 Eliade

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3. Characterizing ritual rituals. It is quite off the mark when we say ritual ‘often’ has this element though.

3.3. Grimes’s chracteristics of ritual Let us move to the last scholar I draw here before I present my idea. Ronald Grimes elaborates “family characteristics of ritual” into eleven items (originally, it is sixteen in number but he reduced to eleven in his recent work). In his view, actions become ritualized by: (1) traditionalization; (2) association with the sacred; (3) repetition; (4) singularization; (5) prescription in detail; (6) stylization; (7) entering with a special state of mind; (8) invoking powers; (9) attribution of special power; (10) situating in special places and/or times; and (11) being performed by specially qualified persons.32 Ronald Grimes’s eleven chracteristics of ritual 1. traditionalization 2. association with the sacred 3. repetition 4. singularization 5. prescription in detail 6. stylization 7. entering with a special state of mind 8. invoking powers 9. attribution of special power 10. situating in special places and/or times 11. being performed by specially qualified persons For we have discussed some items in other scholars’ list, I will describe here only distinct features that I find interesting. The idea that singularizing an event by making it rare in happening sounds at odds with repetition of ritual. What makes one-time event a ritual, in my view, is not its rareness, but rather its significance and its elaborate procedure that make the event costly to be done often. However, we rarely find this kind of ritual in Buddhism. Ordination might be a viable candidate, because it happens normally once in a person’s lifetime. But it is indeed 32 Grimes

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2014, p. 194

3.3. Grimes’s chracteristics of ritual performed many times to many individuals in the same manner throughout the year. Mentioning special state of mind involved in ritual performance gives us a new idea. It is not only emotions that are affected by ritual. Consciousness is also put into play. Even though this aspect is not conspicuous in merit-making, I incorporate this analysis in my model (see Chapter 7 and Appendix A). In the item (8) and (9) Grimes talks about powers that performers attribute to and invoke from powerful agents during the ceremony. This idea is applicable, especially in merit-making, because invoking supernatural power is one of the key elements of this ritual. Ronald Grimes might also realize that some of his ‘family characteristics’ are trivial and not distinctive enough to single out a ritual phenomenon. When he sums up with a terse definition which he has to select some crucial elements to emphasize, he comes up with this minimum definition: “Ritual is embodied, condensed, and prescribed enactment.”33 Embodiment of ritual, surprisingly not in the list above, is the aspect that I find revealing. People perform any ritual by their body, not just thinking about it. Grimes sees this as a key point— “No body, no ritual.”34 By “condensed” Grimes means “not ordinary.” Ritual is “more condensed or elevated than quotidian behavior.”35 It is condensed in the sense that ritual is ‘packed’ tightly with dramatization which the outsiders need to ‘unpack’ the message to understand it. If I grasp it right, this means that ritual has a symbolic nature needed to be interpreted in certain way. If this is the case, I also see it as a key characteristic which we have to look closely (see Appendix C). For we have talked a lot about ‘prescribed,’ then I skip this term. Finally by ‘enactment’ he means ritual can make things happen or can change the status of the actors conventionally. Rites of passage can be a good example. This is unquestionably a crucial function of ritual (see Appendix D and E). To sum up, we have gone through a number of characteristics of ritual. Some are trivial, but some are important and distinctive. 33 p.

196 306 35 p. 195 34 p.

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3. Characterizing ritual Some of these key aspects will be addressed systematically in the appendices, such as the cognition and body of the performer, the symbolic representation in ritual, and its ability to establish a sense of reality. In the next chapter, I will make use of some of these characteristics to articulate my way of identifying a ritual.

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4. Identifying ritual My intention in this chapter is to provide a guideline for identifying a ritual. This strategy is easier than finding a clear definition of ritual. It can give us the sense what ritual looks like by identifying its characteristics mentioned above. Unfortunately, the characteristic lists are overwhelming with superficial features that correspond only to some particular cases, and some of them are not decisive enough. Condensing the list by including only a few essential characteristics can lead us to the problem of oversimplification and narrowness. In spite of this dilemma, I prefer minimalism and insist on the essential features by neglecting some indistinctive ones, even if they are conspicuous and important. My aim is clear, not to make an undisputable definition, but rather to make sure what we have is a ritual. In my view, all features of ritual we have considered so far can be boiled down to one crucial item: formality. No form, no ritual, so to speak. Or, once ritual is being present, some kind of form must be detected. It seems simple, but the challenging task is to differentiate this formality from other kind of actions that also have their form. Before we go to that, I would like to make clear of the basic term we use. What we call ‘ritual’ here is a human activity, especially which engages with human bodies. Therefore, thinking is not a ritual in this sense, no matter how formal it would be. Ritual always implies embodiment, so I leave out the consideration of this feature despite its importance. And behavioral patterns in animals are set apart from my consideration entirely, even if there probably is a biological relation to human ritualistic behaviors. It is also not a ritual in this sense. Now we come to ‘formality.’ In the American Heritage Dictionary, there is a definition read: “An established form, rule, or custom, especially one followed merely for the sake of procedure

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4. Identifying ritual or decorum.”1 The opposite word of formality in this sense is whimsicality or arbitrariness. People cannot do whatever they want when they perform a ritual. The script of the action preexists the actors. Although a new ritual script can be written for a certain innovative purpose, the script must exist before the performance takes place accordingly. Ritual is not a free improvisation, but it can have a degree of flexibility. This formality can create a strictly solemn tone of action, or a less rigid way in some situation, but it never goes at random. My point to be emphasized is that formality is stipulated by somebody or somebodies regarded as having authority. The actors are not the writer of their actions. In The Obvious Aspects of Ritual, Roy Rappaport notes that ritual has form “not encoded by the performers.”2 In a similar manner, to define ritual, Caroline Humphrey and James Laidlaw stresses that “in a very important sense, one will not be the author of one’s acts.”3 This idea makes a good sense. But how about if someone really has power to set down the course of actions, like a king who establishes a set of actions that are performed by himself to demonstrate his power? Is it a ritual? Definitely, it cannot be seen otherwise. So, it is not other-written script but authority that counts. Authority can come from the past as a tradition or come from an immediate exercise of power. Formality used in ritual is not a hard and fast kind, it is always alterable to fit the circumstances. Some traces from authorities are still there nonetheless. Now a modifier is added to our crucial characteristic: formality written by authority. By ‘authority’ here, I mean any kind of it, including political, religious, charismatic persons, and those who have more seniority than others, in both human and superhuman forms. Though, I do not think superhuman agents can really write any ritual script without human mediators. For me, human authorities are more important, because they are always present (but can be forgotten), unlike superhuman beings who are normally invisible. This authority dictates the obligation that the performers have 1 https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=formality 2 Rappaport 3 Humphrey

28

1979, p. 175 and Laidlaw 1994, p. 98

to accept the roles and rules of the ritual. This can be seen as compulsion in Boyer and Liénard’s idea as we have seen earlier.4 But it does not totally come from inside urges—the feeling that something has to be done, but rather it is instigated from outside—it is said something has to be done. Is it enough? Thinking about football teams following FIFA rules in their tournaments makes the answer inevitably ‘No.’ If we want to set sports and games apart from ritual sphere, there must be another modifier to be added up. Going back to the American Heritage, we have “merely for the sake of procedure.” This is another key idea. There is no explicit causal relation between form and effects of ritual. What matters is the form itself. Causality is still there to be found, but it is not the explicit goal of the ritual. Games have their rules to be followed, but not just for the sake of rules. There are some objective causal links behind the rules intentionally. For example, there must be some biological limit to optimize a game of football into 90 minutes, not 2 hours or more. And there must be some reason of performance that prevents the standard football matches from ending too quick, say, 10 minutes or less. Comparing to boxing which has totally a different use of duration suitable to a different use of human body may gain more sense. But in ritual, there is no explicit causation between the doing and the expected result. Put it another way, there is vagueness in ritual process. Or yet another way, the primary intention of the action is lost when it becomes a ritual. This is a biological view on ritualized behavior, “act that is removed from its original context.”5 It is the same idea as Boyer and Liénard talk about goaldemotion which they mean that context or manner in which ritual is performed is “divorced from observable goal.”6 In the same way, but more specific, when Jesper Sørensen defines magic, he uses “actions with opaque causal mediation.”7 And Harvey Whitehouse uses ‘teleological opacity’8 to mean the same thing. 4 Boyer

and Liénard 2006, p. 598 Owl, and Kersting 2005, p. 465 6 Boyer and Liénard 2006, p. 598 7 Sørensen 2007, p. 32, emphasis added 8 Whitehouse 2012, p. 265 5 Mai,

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4. Identifying ritual To cover all magical rituals, then we add another modifier to the characteristic. It becomes formality written by authority, without an explicit causal link to its effects. Besides sports, which have rules set by authorities, performance arts (music and plays) also have formality derived from authorities. Like sports, we hardly take these performances as ritual, since they have some degree of objectivity or explicit causation. When we play an instrument, we do not just make some noise. We deliberately follow the instruction to make a good sound both melodically and harmonically, and there are definite methods to do this. In the case of drama, there are methods to pose the acting body in order to have a particular effect on the audience. Causation in both cases can be explicitly seen and explained. However, in a particular kind of play, Chinese (Peking) opera for example, ritualistic elements can be seamlessly incorporated into the play.9 We still have a good reason to regard this as a play not a ritual. Another domain where formality plays a significant role is science. For science, formality means methodology, which also comes from authorities. Thomas Kuhn has a view that science is more like ritual for it operates in an existing framework, ‘paradigm’ as he calls it, to maintain the tradition rather than to find a new discovery.10 I think this idea goes too far. For me, doing ritual is not like doing science because of its far higher degree of subjectivity. When ritual fails, it is not a big deal. Some forms of ritual can run for a thousand years. But when science fails, revolution is entailed. Science is ever-changing (or better, ever-improving). Considering further, in dining table etiquette we eat mannerly to make our behavior decent. Explicit causal relation between manners and intended results seems undeniable. If we want to count decorum as a kind of ritual, we must find another some criterion to be added up. The difference between manners around dining table and procedures in laboratory is degree of subjectivity. The former is by far subjective or inter-subjective. It has a lot to do with collective agreement or taste of the group. We do in such a way because the way is already established conventionally. We just accept it because it is a part of our culture. Using the word ‘culture’ is too risky here, because there are some bizarre 9 see

Bell 1997, pp. 165–6 1973

10 Kuhn

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ceremonies unacceptable to one’s culture as well. So, our final description of the crucial characteristic of ritual is formality written by authority, without an explicit causal link to its effects OR with a high degree of subjectivity. The author’s crucial chracteristics of ritual formality written by authority, without an explicit causal link to its effects OR with a high degree of subjectivity To sum up my formula with a guideline, when we meet any human activity and wonder whether it is a ritual or not. Consider the followings: (1) Is there any pattern of behaviors to be detected? If there is none, reject it as non-ritual. If there are some, go to the next step. (2) Find out where the activity script comes from. Ask the people there whether they do this by their own design. If the people look ordinary and they do not attribute to any other authority, reject it as non-ritual. It may be just a game. Even if some of them claim the originality, but the event looks magnificent, involves many people, and impels others to follow, suspect it as a ritual. If the script came from elsewhere, also suspect this as a ritual, and go to the next step. (3) Is there any causal link to be found between what people do and what they claim to achieve? If the causation can be seen and explained easily, reject this as non-ritual. It may be a normal action using common sense or scientific knowledge. For example, people may just do fishing, playing golf, dancing for fun, or planting some trees. If the direct causation is hard to be explained or it involves subjective causation (feelings of the actors matter), suspect it as a ritual. Then, go to the next step. (4) Does the activity follow some convention? If the activity is done based on group preferences not religious beliefs, it is possibly a social ritual. If convention does not matter much, but they do for some objective purpose, it might be a magical ritual. In this case, causality cannot be explained or falsified. If religious beliefs matter most, it can be a religious ritual (see ritual classification below for religious, magical, and social ritual).

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4. Identifying ritual Before this section is finished, a substantial example should be shown. Let me put a case into test—freshman initiation. When the opening semester gets started in most universities, you see some senior students do somethings with their newcomers. You wonder whether this activity is a ritual or not, then you follow this guideline. First, identify any pattern or form of the activity that restrains the new students unable to do or not to do what they want, as well as the older students. For example, students must assemble together in multiple sessions to do some activities together, say, singing or playing games. They also usually have agendas of what they are going to do. If these things are found, it can be a ritual. Then go on to the next consideration. You ask some senior students that who established this thing. If they answer the tradition or former generations did, it seems you go the right track. But if they happen to be the first generation of that faculty, and this activity is held for the first time, you then ask for the authorities who sanction the activity. You search for the power source that can force the actions unavoidable, so to speak. If you find some, such as it might be the faculty itself that designs and supports the event, or some faculty members might have such an influence to do that, it is likely to be a ritual. If you find none, but you feel that the obligation of the event somehow unavoidable, it can be a ritual also. If people just gather for some trivial purposes, and they can choose to do or not to do at will, it is probably not a ritual. Now, go on to the next consideration. Then, you ask some of them for what reasons they do this. If they say they have the new students run around over and over again to make them healthy, and you see it might be the case, it is not a ritual for that direct reason. If they say it makes a unity among the new students, this can be a ritual, because there is no explicit causal links between running or singing together and the wholeness of the group (a mob can run and sing together). It involves a high degree of subjectivity in that claim. Ask them further whether it is based mainly on religious belief. If it is so, it is likely to be a religious ritual. Otherwise, it is a social ritual. Is it possibly a magical ritual? It can be if you feel that people who hold the event really believe this kind of actions will bring about something, say, the unity, in a miraculous way. This might be a rare case, though.

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As we have seen, to me, formality is the only crucial characteristic of ritual, unlike the other features which are dispensable somehow. Again, no form, no ritual. This formality covers wide range of aspects, including repeatability, rhythmicity, redundancy, stylization, dramatization, as well as the sense of inviolability and inevitability, or invariance. It can be a strict form as religious or state ceremony, or a mild form as decorum or etiquette, or something in between like a freshman initiation. If every ritual has this minimal characteristic as I proposed. It seems that we can convert it to make a definition of ritual. In the bluntest way, it may look like this: “Ritual is an human activity that has formality written by authority without an explicit causal link to its effects or with a high degree of subjectivity.” But I disclaim this as my definition of ritual. I instead use it as a measure to identify whether a certain activity is a ritual or not. That is enough practically. We nevertheless know what is a ritual without defining it.

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5. Classifying ritual In the guideline of ritual identification, I mentioned three types of ritual in a crudest way: religious ritual, magical ritual, and social ritual. Here I will expound this classification. Before we go to that, it is better to address the general idea of ritual classification. Simply put, there are no general categories of ritual. As noted by Grimes, “[t]here is no full, formal taxonomy of ritual.”1 However, scholars in ritual studies have ways to classify it. Together with her ritual-like characteristics mentioned earlier, Catherine Bell divides ritual roughly into six basic genres, namely rites of passage; calendrical rites; rites of exchange and communion; rites of affliction; feasting, fasting, and festivals; and political rites.2 Rites of passage mark personal changes or life cycles in a similar way of calendrical rites mark natural and social changes or cycles. Rites of exchange and communion, usually in religious context, use the action of give-and-take to negotiate with supernatural beings (merit-making can fall to this type). People lessen their misfortune by using the rites of affliction. Feasting, fasting, and festivals can occur in a wide range of domain, from religious to secular, from primitive society to the modern one. Political rites are any ritual related to the sovereign power. Sometimes the rites itself constitute that power. By different approach, Grimes talks about six modes of ritual. These are ritualization (e.g., mannerisms, habits), decorum (e.g., greeting), ceremony (e.g., inaugurations), magic (e.g., healing, divination), liturgy (e.g., meditation), and celebration (e.g., festivals).3 I am not really clear why Grimes uses modes rather than types here. He explains by analogy of musical modes—the same set of notes can be arranged into different scales. The musical metaphor 1 Grimes

2014, p. 198 1997, pp. 94–135 3 Grimes 2014, p. 204 2 Bell

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is quite off the mark to me, because each mode of ritual described has different contents and operates in variety of domains. Meritmaking can be put into liturgy mode of ritual but not so fittingly as in the rites of exchange and communion by Bell’s categories. For there is no strict rule to classify a ritual, I prefer a minimalist approach. Though it may not be so distinctive and too coarse, it is easy to handle and enough to address merit-making. Besides, most people seem to understand these types without any further explanation. In ritual universe, I thus divide the space into three areas according mainly to their purpose. Some rituals can be placed in multiple areas if they serve multiple purposes. These types, as mentioned, are religious ritual, magical ritual, and social ritual. Despite the simple look, these can entail some complication according to the overlapping functions. Three main types of ritual 1. religious ritual 2. magical ritual 3. social ritual Any ritual which uses religious authorities as its script writers and operates in religious purview is counted as religious ritual. Sometimes religious ritual has a magical concern (as we shall see in merit-making discussed in Part II). If the weight of magical purpose is heavier, it is counted as a magical one (for more detail on magic, see below). If the purpose complies with the ultimate concern according to religious doctrine, it is a religious ritual. Rites of passage can fall into this category if they are performed in religious domain, such as male ordination in Thai culture. Other kinds of ritual enumerated by Bell can be of this kind as well, except political rites which explicitly has its sphere of operation outside religion, even if it needs religious involvement somehow. In Grimes’ categories, liturgy mode of ritual fits nicely with religious ritual. Any ritual which uses scripts from authorities inside or outside religious institutions to serve the ‘magical’ purposes rather than religious ones is counted as magical ritual. The word ‘magical’ used here should be specified. I use ‘magic’ in a similar sense as James G. Frazer regards it as a “spurious system of natural law.”4 4 Frazer

1994, p. 26

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5. Classifying ritual But counting it as a false science may be too strong and derogative; immature science sounds better to me. The main purpose of magic is to manipulate nature, like technology in modern sense. There is a clear distinction between religious purpose and magical purpose of ritual. In religious ritual, the main aim is not to manipulate things but to fulfill the religious commitments. And magical methods are usually regarded as an obstruction to the ultimate goal. The way of magical ritual makes things done is like using “sleight of hand” by magicians. Sometimes it outright ‘cheats’ the nature, for example acting a fake death to prevent the real death (widely found in Thai Buddhist culture). The rites of affliction in Bell’s list falls suitably into this type, as well as magic mode of ritual in Grimes’s list. Even though I try to make a clear demarcation between the two kinds of ritual, the line is really thin. Some might raise a borderline example to counter-argue my classification, and we could have a long and complex argument. The question like “Can worldly fortune be a religious purpose?,” for example, might be raised (Weber already answered this with his Protestant Ethics). There can be such a situation. However, my primary intention is to simplify things. And, I think, we must end up somewhere. My main point is this: the purpose of the religious ritual is more subjective than the magical one. Unlike Durkheim who separates religion and magic on their operating sphere—social versus individual5 , I separate religion and magic on their intended purpose. Furthermore, there are marginal cases between magic and science as well. For instance, is healing ritual a kind of psychotherapy? My point is clear that doing science is not the same thing as doing ritual, because they follow different kind of formality and intention. Unquestionably, sometimes ritual makes right things confirmed by scientific means, but I contend that it is not ritual’s primary purpose to do that. Roy Rappaport once tells us about pig eating ritual of the Tsembaga in New Guinea. He says the eating occasions help to regulate the ecosystem, even if it is not the primary intention to do so.6 Any ritual which uses scripts from authorities mostly outside religious institutions to serve the social purpose, such as conventional agreements or preferable behaviors is counted as social 5 Durkheim

1915, p. 45 1968

6 Rappaport

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ritual. Most kinds of rites indicated by Bell, except the rites of affliction, can be put into this type, at least some forms of them. In Grimes’s case, except magic and liturgy mode of ritual, the other modes can put into this type. Making a clear cut between social ritual and other kinds can be awkward. For example, into which should we put “chanting for the world peace” event? The subjectivity of purposes makes things complicated, because the subjective feelings need to be taken into account. For example, Buddhist monks have rules of etiquette in eating properly. When monks eat mannerly to have their spiritual practice fulfilled, it is a religious ritual. When they think these manners can cause them a fortune somehow, it is a magical ritual. And when they do it just for social acceptance, it is a social ritual. We can also find numerous rituals serve these three functions at the same time depending on the individual mentality and circumstances. Despite this uneasiness, I maintain to draw these three types of ritual into play with merit-making.

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6. Structuring ritual We have gone through different viewpoints to look at ritual to gain understanding in various angles: definition, characteristics, identification, and classification. Now we will go deeper to its structure—What is ritual composed of? To find the ingredients of a thing is straightforward. Throw it onto a bench and dissect it. This sounds easy but not as it seems. The problem is this: in the case of there is no standard direction or protocol, how can we make decisions to group things together or separate things apart? There must be some guideline, otherwise things could go wild and enormous explanations would be needed to make them understandable. This can be understood as in a chicken-and-egg problem of form and contents. Form is the structure that we hardly see, and contents are what is visible to us. We can only see contents not form. In my case, I see only what are shown as a merit-making. Data collected from what are seen can be enormous if we do not have some frame to guide our selection. The frame is amount to the structure here. Where does it come from? We can also develop a model of structure from abstraction or distinction of patterns in data collections, but it takes time and effort. A viable way is selecting some existing form or structure first and collecting the data under that guideline. Ronald Grimes, a leading scholar in ritual studies, proposes a simple structural model of ritual which I find useful and able to serve my purpose. He decomposes ritual into seven elements which I recap briefly with some distinct descriptions as follows: (a) Ritual Actions are the ritual event, the “plot” of action, the constituent actions, their form and styles, acts of avoidance, etc. (b) Ritual Actors are bodies in motion, persons performing gestures and postures, ritual agents, participants, etc. (c) Ritual Places are sacred and non-sacred places, proper placement, settings, etc.

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(d) Ritual Times are temporal markers, duration, phasing, rhythm, seasons, cycles, etc. (e) Ritual Objects are material culture, properties, costume, arts, food, etc. (f) Ritual Languages are utterances, things said or sung, words, text, writing, etc. (g) Ritual Groups are organizations, social distinctions, collective ideas, worldviews, attitudes, values and virtues, vices and taboos, politics, economics, etc.1 Grimes also puts the seven elements into a diagram2 which I will not copy here, because it is likely to make things confusing. In his account, each element is not independent. They interact with one another. This creates what Grimes called “dynamics of ritual.”3 It is not the way I go—to determine how each element interacts, such as how different performers use different language, how recitations differ in different times and places, and so on. Because we will be overwhelmed with many trivial accounts which give us little knowledge. I will make use of Grimes’s model as he suggests as an ‘academic improvisation.’4 Therefore, I neglect his last element (g), use only some of his descriptions, and put my accounts upon his model. Ritual actions are the essential element of ritual—what participants do in the event. When we talk about formality or prescriptedness of ritual, this is the main contents of the script. What constitute the whole ritual, how we perform particular acts, in what manner? These are the main questions of ritual actions. I think the description here is clear enough. But in Grimes’s accounts, he considers almost all of their environment. For example, he includes genres, styles, mood, and tone of the actions. He includes facilitating, preparatory, and even behind-the-scenes actions.5 For me, these are too many details, and unimaginable somehow. So, I will make use of this category in the simplest, conceivable way. However, one aspect of this element mentioned by Grimes that I agree with its significance is receptive acts which is also counted 1 Grimes

2014, pp. 237–41 235 3 p. 236, for the full account see pp. 294–337 4 p. 236 5 p. 237 2 p.

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6. Structuring ritual as actions—mere witnessing or avoidance something is also an action.6 The simple question of this element is “What does happen, in what manner?” If actions are the most important part of ritual, ritual actors are the most visible part. Because what we mainly see is people doing something. Actions need actors for their very existence. The simplest description of this element is “whoever is involved in the ritual actions, both human and non-human beings.” We can consider persons who are intentionally excluded from the performance as well, but I do not use this in my case. In Grimes’s account, he goes deep to the people’s body, sensations, and states of mind—emotions, attitudes, beliefs, values, etc. It can go deeper to the states of the brain and genetic background as well (this concern will be addressed by another model). I do not use the whole range of his descriptions. For me, the simplest question of this element is “Who are there?” Ritual places and times are straightforward. They are spatial and temporal elements of the ritual. We can think about them in numerous ways, such as the environment, the atmosphere, the settings, the context, the proper placement, positioning, duration, phasing, rhythm, seasons, cycles, etc. The simple questions of these elements are: “Where does the event take place, what does it look like?,” and “When does the event take place, how the time is counted?” Ritual objects are also the element that is easy to understand. Everything used in the ritual is counted as objects, including clothes, food, furniture, and particular tools. Objects can be overlapping with settings or props which are parts of the places. It is not a problem. We just decide properly and consistently which ones should be in which categories. The real problem is that the object list can be overwhelming, if we count everything. Selecting only the relevant is the way to reduce our work. The simple question will be “What are used in the event?” Ritual languages are somewhat misleading. Grimes means both linguistic and non-linguistic utterances—intelligible and unintelligible. Everything using words or in text-form counts here— recitation, incantation, prayer, petition, chants, hymns, canonical texts, etc. Grimes also includes greetings, gossip, and behind-the6 Grimes

40

2014, p. 247

scenes talks.7 These may be too much for me. He also puts “speaking in tongues” in this category as a nonlinguistic utterance. I wonder if it can be counted as a language at all. In my case there is nothing of that kind nonetheless. How about music? Should we count it as language, object, or a part of settings? Again, it is not really a problem when we meet some borderline cases, we just group them reasonably. Anything is fine. The simple question of this element can be “What do we hear (in some cases, see) in the event?” Ritual Groups are the most difficult element to be understood, and the most revealing in my perspective. It is about social dimension of ritual—organizations, class distinction or discrimination, collective ideas or attitudes, ideologies, hierarchy, power, etc. The simple question can be “How do groups of people in the event distinguish themselves from one another?” The question like “What is behind the curtain?” might be better to capture the essence of this element, but it is too abstract. The structure of anything should consist of visible parts, not imaginary abstractions. That is the main reason I leave out this element by not considering it in my analysis. Since the idea is important, I have another model to deal with this element in a more comprehensible way (see Chapter 7). Structure of ritual 1. Actions – What does happen, in what manner? 2. Actors – Who are there? 3. Places – Where does the event take place, what does it look like? 4. Times – When does the event take place, how the time is counted? 5. Objects – What are used in the event? 6. Languages – What do we hear (in some cases, see) in the event? To sum up and make things clear, although I make use of Grimes’s enumeration of ritual components as a structural model, I drop the last component and use other six as a categorical guideline. Only some obvious and applicable descriptions are used. 7 p.

276

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6. Structuring ritual The problem I see in his model is that Grimes embeds functional explanations in his structure. For instance, he also considers influences, causal forces, consequences, and functions of the ritual8 in terms of ritual actions. In ritual actors, he does not only consider persons, but also their feelings, values, attitudes, beliefs, and purposes.9 And obviously, in ritual groups he does not merely classify groups, but goes deep to their social functions like the distinctions of classes.10 If we follow this line of suggestion, the outcome can be muddled and less systematic as it should be. To overcome this problem, I drop all functional considerations in this model, and develop a more systematic approach to handle this concern.

8 Grimes 9 p.

237 10 p. 241

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2014, p. 237

7. Ritual analytic model As we have learned from the previous chapters, we have at least two tools applicable to our job. We know how to identify a ritual by a simple procedure, and we have a guideline to analyze its components. Knowing what it looks like and seeing its parts are not enough to get an exhaustive understanding. We need to know how each part works and relates to gain a more complete picture. But ritual is not a mechanical device that the working is easily seen when it operates. We need a conceptual framework to capture what happens when ritual is working. As I went through some essential writings about ritual theories, I have not yet found such a systematic model of ritual. The most organized approach I found is Grimes’s structural model we have discussed previously. His method incorporates functional explanations in an unsystematic way. To make things less confusing, I drop all of his functional accounts related to his structural arrangement. Then, I have to develop a new framework to handle this analysis. I hesitate to call it a functional model, because it tells us more than how ritual functions. It also illuminates deep structure of ritual in an integrated way. So, I call this ritual comprehensive model. The model has six dimensions divided into three levels: individual, interpersonal, and social level; and two planes: mental and physical planes. The six are: cognitive, bodily, communicative, performative, discursive, and constitutive dimension. The model is shown in Figure 7.1. Here are brief descriptions of the idea behind this model. Ritual always operates in three levels. When a ritual is taken into consideration, without a precise framework, we normally see it in a crude way—someone does something in order to get some result. If we take the three levels apart and see what happens in each level, we gain much precise and comprehensive understanding. Furthermore, in the model each level is divided into two planes, mental and physical, which can bring us richer perspectives. I use dotted lines to separate each dimension meaning that there are

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7. Ritual analytic model

Social level

Interpersonal level

Individual level

Discursive

Constitutive

dimension (focus: knowledge)

(focus: practice)

dimension

Communicative

Performative

Cognitive

Bodily

Mental plane

Physical plane

dimension dimension (central focus: signs) (central focus: actions) dimension dimension (central focus: mind) (central focus: body)

Figure 7.1.: Ritual comprehensive model no clear-cut boundaries among the six. Overlapping or undetermined areas can be found in most cases. But it is definitely useful for analytical purpose to represent them as distinct categories. In the individual level, it covers person’s behaviors, states of mind, psychological conditions, or even biological background. In the mental plane of this level, we consider mind or brain functions related to ritual performances which now we have plenty of knowledge in the field. I call this cognitive dimension. In the physical plane, we consider how the body (appearances, postures, gestures, and physical contacts) functions in ritual. I call this bodily dimension. When we expand the focus to group of people involved in the ritual, we engage in the interpersonal level. The matter to be concerned is chiefly how individuals communicate or relate to one another by means of ritual. This can be done in two ways. The first is by making symbolic representations. The second is by performing or expressing. The two are intricately linked together, but we can see roughly that the former way operates mainly in mental realm, the latter in physical realm. I call these communicative and performative dimension respectively. When we further expand our view to the social scale, we can find that even done in a small group ritual has a lot to do in social level. They can be the ideas or beliefs behind the very existence of that ritual, or those which are created by it. I call this discursive

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dimension which operates mainly in mental plane. That is also the main point of this thesis. By physical consideration, ritual can constitute a social practice which is the materialized form of that discursively constructed knowledge. I call this constitutive dimension. When the model is applied to analyze a ritual, it will be easier if we have questions to guide our investigation. So, I summarize the main question used in each dimension, as shown in Table 7.1. Table 7.1.: Main questions in the ritual analytic model Dimension

Questions

Cognitive

What are elements in human cognition being affected by the ritual? What are bodily metaphors and metonyms used in the ritual? What are symbolic, iconic, and indexical relation found in signs used in the ritual? How does the ritual exhibit? What are locutionary, illocutionary, and perlocutionary acts found in the ritual? What are social identities, social relations, and system of knowledge and belief created by the ritual? What are dispositions of participants inculcated by the ritual? What are capitals driving the ritual?

Bodily Communicative Performative Discursive Constitutive

For those who need elaborate explanations of the model, please consult the appendices. Even though these explanations play a significant role in the thesis, I decide to move them to the end of the book, because of their difficulty. Some parts are brutally complicated, dense and attention-consuming. Only few general readers can finish those, I suppose, if the parts are put as normal chapters. Therefore, just for the really interested ones, read further the appendices if you are curious about the ideas behind each dimension. The following chapters is all about the application of what we

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7. Ritual analytic model have learn so far to Thai merit-making rituals. This is the main part of the book, and it is quite easy to follow.

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Part II.

Merit-making under investigation

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8. Ritual in Buddhism In this part the conceptual framework developed in the previous part (elaborated in the appendices) will be utilized as analytical tools upon the merit-making, our case study. As merit-making has broad meaning in Buddhist context, it will be specified first and categorized according to the criteria described previously. Then the ritual will be analyzed using structural model depicted in Chapter 6, as well as using the comprehensive model (shown in Chapter 7). Before we embark on these undertakings, it is better to take a look at the status of ritual in Buddhism to obtain the basic idea of the issue. On the issue concerning ritual in Buddhism, T. W. Rhys Davids notes: “Nothing is known of any religious ceremony having been performed by the early Buddhists in India, whether the person deceased was a layman, or even a member of the Order.”1 Gregory Schopen argues that there were really in both cases, as archaeological evidence showed, disposal of the dead bodies and “ritually and elaborately housing them.”2 To say that Buddhism is void of any ritual sounds overstating, because when an event happens something must be done in an appropriate way. If the same kind of that event occurs often, a more formal way to address the situation can be the case. For example, when laypersons come to a monastery to offer gifts to monks, if this happens regularly, the presence of monks will be normally ritualistic.3 But ritual in Buddhism goes beyond a formal way to address a certain happening. It becomes more and more magic-concerned as we shall see. However, generally speaking, Buddhism is a non-ritualistic religion. As noted by Charles Eliot, “[t]he Buddha prescribed no ceremonies for births, deaths and marriages and apparently expected the laity to continue in the observance of such rites as 1 T.

W. Rhys Davids 1881, pp. xliv–xlv 1997, p. 8 3 See p. 73 2 Schopen

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were in use.”4 Even if it is non-ritualistic, it does not go far as anti-ritual. Whatever people have done in their life, they can go on doing that as long as they ‘practice’ Buddhism. This practice is achieved by self-reliance rather than mindless patterned behaviors or other kind of submission. Gail Omvedt (2003) puts it this way: “‘Salvation’ or liberation from the bonds of the world does not come through faith, through submitting to authority, through ritual, or any of the traditional forms of religion: but rather through self-control, experiment and individual effort.”5 In a long discourse of the Buddha, Mahānidāna sutta (No. 15), the great discourse on causation/origination, the Buddha asked the Venerable Ānanda “Were there … no grasping after mere rule and ritual …, be any appearance of becoming?.”6 Ānanda answered ‘No’ to the question. By this account, ritual is, among other things, an object of grasping that can lead to becoming (of something or someone), and suffering at the end. In the contrary, no grasping results in no becoming, and leads to liberation at the end. If the full liberation is not the primary concern, typically for most laypeople, can ritual be helpful somehow? The answer in another long discourse, Sigālaka/Singālovāda Sutta (No. 31), is quite clear. When Sigālaka, a householder’s son, paid homage to the six directions in a ritualistic way, the Buddha said to him it was not the right way to do so. The Buddha substituted spatial directions with six human relationships (between oneself and parents; teachers; wife and children; friends and companions; servants, workers and helpers; and ascetics and brahmins) that we should have them right instead.7 But before the Buddha went to the point mentioned, he advised the man to abandon the four vices in conduct (slaughter of life, theft, lying, and adultery), the four motives in doing evil deeds (partiality, enmity, stupidity, and fear), and the six channels for dissipating wealth (being addicted to intoxicating liquors, frequenting the streets at unseemly hours, haunting fairs, being infatuated by gambling, associating with evil companions, and 4 Eliot

1921, p. 120 2003, p. 9, emphasis added 6 Rhys Davids and Rhys Davids 1910, pp. 53–4:§6; see also Walshe 1995, p. 224:§6 in which rite-and-ritual is rendered 7 See pp. 461–9; Rhys Davids and Rhys Davids 1921, pp. 173–84:§6 5 Omvedt

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8. Ritual in Buddhism the habit of idleness). This obviously shows that the Buddha converted mindless rituals into moral conducts, or what Richard Gombrich calls “ethicisation of the world” which he regards as “a turning point in the history of civilisation.”8 Yet, some form of ritual is endorsed by the Pali canon. In Mahāparinibbāna Sutta, the long discourse No. 16, the Buddha told Ānanda how to deal with his body after his passing away as follows: “A stupa should be erected at the crossroads for the Tathāgata. And whoever lays wreaths or puts sweet perfumes and colours there with a devout heart, will reap benefit and happiness for a long time.”9 This advice goes against the principle of self-reliance as the Buddha had taught in his whole life. But the view was accepted widely despite its dilemma—why it is good to do so because the Buddha exists no more and by no means accepts the gifts. The author of Milindapañhā tried to solve this dilemma, unconvincingly in my view, by using analogy of fire that burns out and comes to light again by the effort of a person. By a similar manner as the sutta mentioned above, the Venerable Nāgasena asserted, “[putting] up a house for the jewel treasure of [the Buddha’s] relics, and doing homage to the attainment of supreme good under the form of the jewel treasure of his wisdom, [gods and men] attain to one or other of the three glorious states.”10 The ritual of relic worship (of whomever) thus has thrived in Buddhist traditions until today. If ritual does not help to achieve salvation, or at worst impedes it, as mentioned earlier, why do rituals prevail in all Buddhist cultures? Did the Buddha contradict himself? We cannot know this for sure, and it is pointless to have such assumption. However, the Buddha usually argued his interlocutors by adopting their term first and change its meaning to lead to his point. This means that the Buddha was probably inconsistent in his mode of expression to accommodate himself to a wide range of people with different inclinations. By this account, Gombrich muses: “If we had a true record of the Buddha’s words, I think we would find that during his preaching career of forty-five years he had expressed himself in 8 Gombrich

2006a, p. 51; also Collins 1982, p. 56 1995, p. 264:§5.11 10 T. W. Rhys Davids 1890, p. 147 9 Walshe

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an enormous number of different ways”.11 But when instances of incoherence occurs, Gombrich argues, “a sacred tradition is at least as likely to iron out inconsistencies as to introduce them”12 , and “the banal reading is more likely to replace the oddity than vice versa.”13 This makes the canon looks by and large (unnaturally) consistent as a whole. My point is not to undermine the authoritative status of the Buddhist scriptures, or to accept them mindlessly. The scriptures set up a symbolic space in which we live, the ground on which we stand. I think what Steven Collins calls Pali imaginaire, “a mental universe created by and within Pali texts”14 , fits this perspective. We utilize Pali scriptures, argue them, revere them, and abuse them. If there is no such platform, nothing can be said. And as explained at length in the appendices, by the textual nature of the scriptures, they normally have a number of discrepancies and they are always open to alternative interpretations, even if it is “remarkably stable in content.”15 A reasonable account of why rituals prevail against the doctrines is social pressure. Most people still need a coherent concept of cosmology, powerful gods on whom they can rely, and practicable rituals which are easier to do than grim self-control. The subsequent Sangha, even the Buddha in his life time, had to compromise to these needs. Melford Spiro ascribes the compromise to “the universal psychological need to cope with suffering”16 which results in a reinterpretation of normative Buddhism. Spiro calls this protective orientation apotropaic Buddhism, which is magical in essence.17 Alexander Wynne takes a milder stance by seeing that former cultural practices can be adapted and redefined to promote desirable mental states, so the form of existing rituals is not taken seriously, but their psychological effects count.18 He also has another concern about the integration of apotropaic practices into the teaching: “the achievement of worldly well-being was the as11 Gombrich

2006a, p. 19 11; see also p. 19 13 pp. 11–2 14 Collins 1998, p. 41; see also p. 1 15 p. 41 16 Spiro 1982, p. 141 17 p. 140 18 Wynne 2015, p. 19 12 p.

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8. Ritual in Buddhism pect of Buddhism from the very beginning.”19 That is to say, people can continue doing what they formerly do for their prosperity, with some reframing. This can be the case with the parittas (Buddhist mantras) too, as Rhys Davids notes that Buddhism possibly “was compelled to adopt and then adapt, in the parittā, the rakshamantras [rākṣamantras] dear to its converts.”20 Paritta (protection) chanting is a good example of this kind of ritualization. Parittas, known in Sri Lanka as Pirit, are chanted passages mostly excerpted from the Pali scriptures used as a form of protection.21 Spiro calls them spells.22 Rhys Davids calls them guarding or ward runes.23 There was an attempt to attribute the paritta service to the Buddha himself, as claimed in Milindapañhā24 , but Rhys Davids points out that Milindapañhā itself is the oldest text in which paritta chanting is referred as a service.25 Parittas mentioned in Milindapañhā are Ratana sutta, Khanda paritta, Mora paritta, Dhajagga paritta, Āṭānāṭiya paritta, and Aṅgulimāla paritta. This shows that, even though its performance in the Buddha lifetime is doubtful, the use of parittas as incantation is pretty old (at least around 500 years after the death of the Buddha). An interesting point in Milindapañhā is the dilemma of parittas. As firmly asserted by the Buddha that no one can escape death, parittas seem useless by this regard. The Venerable Nāgasena, I mean actually the author of Milindapañhā, admitted that parittas are no use for those whose term of life is up, “but for those who have a period yet to run and are full of vigour, for them the medicine of Pirit may be repeated, and they will profit by its use.”26 Then, various uses of parittas are recounted, such as curing a snake bite, preventing the bite, making one invisible, and so on. However, not everyone gets benefits from parittas. Parittas can fail under three conditions: the obstruction of karma, of sin, and of unbelief.27 The efficacy of parittas there19 Wynne

2015, p. 66 Davids and Rhys Davids 1921, p. 186 21 Gombrich 1971b, p. 152; Harvey 2013, p. 249 22 Spiro 1982, p. 144, 263 23 Rhys Davids and Rhys Davids 1921, p. 186, 188 24 See also Perera 2000 25 T. W. Rhys Davids 1890, p. 213 26 p. 215 27 p. 218 20 Rhys

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fore cannot be falsified by any means. This makes me rate the accounts as a poor rationalization. However, Spiro notes that the rationale in Milindapañhā is almost identical with the rationale in contemporary Burma.28 In Thailand, I am still curious, because I rarely find those who take parittas really seriously. Perhaps, that Milindapañhā gains canonical status as a part of the Tipitaka in Myanmar, not in Thailand, makes people have that way of thinking. Another point worth discussing here is that Buddhist practices seem to be ritualistic in essence. Considering the daily routine of monks from the time they wake up to sleep, we can see patterns of activities that seemingly fall into what we call ritual. The obvious examples are daily chantings in the morning and the evening, walking barefoot for alms, eating in a composed manner, and assembling every fortnight to listen the recital of principal rules (the Pāṭimokkha). These practices, despite being somewhat degraded in some area, can be seen widely in Thailand. It is even more obvious in Mahayana schools which their monastic practices are “highly ritualized,” particularly in Chan/Zen schools.29 As noted by Rhys Davids and Eliot mentioned above, the Buddha did not prescribe any ritual for the lay followers, but he did for the monastic community. The primary reason of laying down monastic rules was to lead, to guide, or to train monks, as implied by the word vinaya. The technical meaning of the Vinaya is “the collection of rules and ceremonials as dictated by the Buddha for the practical guidance of the Bhikkhus.”30 By this definition, the monastic rules can be regarded as nonritual, like law in jurisprudential system, because they have a clear causal link between the rules and their effects (see Chapter 4), i.e., to cultivate a particular kind of behaviors. Yet, there are also ritualistic actions that are regarded as good manner as in the Sekhiya rules in the Pāṭimokkha, e.g., monks should dress and behave properly when going or sitting among houses.31 If we count decorum or etiquette as ritual, which it is so in my use, some part of the Vinaya can be seen as ritual as well. Moreover, the recital of the Pāṭimokkha has become practi28 Spiro

1982, p. 144n 2005, p. 260 30 Bhagvat 1939, p. 41 31 Rhys Davids and Oldenberg 1899, pp. 59–67 29 Sharf

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8. Ritual in Buddhism cally ritualistic, as noted by Sukumar Dutt: “From being an instrument of monastic discipline it came to be nothing more than the organized expression of the communal life of the Buddhist community.”32 This view fits suitably with P. A. Payutto who sees ritual as the basis of disciplinary training33 , and as an expression of cultural identity.34 It is true in Thailand even in strict forest-monasteries, mostly located in the countryside, that monks observe the rules ritually which marks the identity of that community. To say that Buddhism is non-ritualistic religion is therefore misleading. Not only in the current situation, I think, that monks practice ritually, but also in the early stage of the Sangha. That is because the nature of the Vinaya itself makes monks ritualistic. When we do something frequently enough, the real purpose of the action is no longer concerned and the action runs ritually. That is the point the theory of practice comes into play. We will discuss the issue later after the analysis is done. To summarize, we can say that Buddhism at the beginning adopted non-ritualistic attitude in opposing to Brahmanism. But the Buddha did not bar such practices in daily basis because some rituals were needed to fulfill people’s wishes. In monastic communities, the Vinaya originated as non-ritual, but it became ritualistic inevitably by the observance itself. Rituals then become an essential part of Buddhist social and monastic life. Moreover, some form of magical rituals have its way to incorporate itself into normal practices of Buddhists in all traditions until today.

32 Dutt

1924, p. 107 2008b, p. 8 [ป. อ. ปยุตฺโต, พิธีกรรม ใครว่าไม่สำคัญ]

33 Payutto 34 p.

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9

9. Defining merit-making Unlike defining ritual as a generic term, defining merit-making is easier because of its specificity. Many former scholars, mostly anthropologists, studied peculiar activities of other cultures, usually alien to their own, and tried to form theories of ritual that, they believed, can be applied to all kinds of ritual. My approach is different. I build up a general toolkit first and use them to gain an understanding of a particular kind of action in Thai culture called merit-making. This kind of action is widely performed by typical Buddhists across the country, and it is familiar to me as a part of my daily life. Merit-making is called thambun (ทำบุญ) in Thai. The word is straight-forwardly formed: tham (native Thai) means make, do; and bun (from Pali puñña) means merit, benefit, or boon. In Thai Buddhist context it has a variety of meanings. It relates closely to Buddhist doctrine, especially karma and rebirth. The most basic actions counted as meritorious have three bases, i.e., giving, morality, and mental development or meditation.1 These bases are extended to ten by a commentary (more about this later). That is to say, giving something to someone is a merit-making, not doing harm to anyone is a merit-making, or trying to calm one’s mind is a merit-making. However, my focus is more specific than those described. My intended merit-making is a formal one. When people gather together to formally perform some religious activities which relate somehow to the idea of merit or wholesomeness in general, they perform merit-making in this sense.

9.1. Merit-making as a ritual Is merit-making a kind of ritual? The general definition of ritual which I glean from dictionaries can be summarized as “any kind 1 Walshe

1995, p. 458:§38

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9. Defining merit-making action or a series of actions we do it in a formal, repeated, and rule-governed way” (see Chapter 2). Merit-making fits perfectly here. In academic definitions, merit-making is also counted as a ritual in most respects. For example, by Roy Rappaport’s focus, merit-making is a more or less formal performance that is “not entirely encoded by the performers.”2 This echoes Caroline Humphrey and James Laidlaw’s important aspect of ritual which “one will not be the author of one’s acts.”3 This means those who do merit-making do not design the action by themselves. They follow a predefined procedure. However, some degree of improvisation is also regarded as normal. According to Jonathan Z. Smith, ritual is “a means of performing the way things ought to be.”4 Merit-making is supposedly a way to perform an action postulated as a norm to Buddhist cultures. This therefore conforms to ritual defined by Smith. By Thomas Lawson and Robert McCauley’s concern, (religious) ritual has structural descriptions “appeal to a culturally postulated superhuman agent.”5 Merit-making definitely has a lot to do with supernatural entities, the Buddha as a deity, gods, and the deceased spirits, for example, so it is a kind of religious ritual by this regard. As stated earlier, I do not differentiate between ritual, rite, and ceremony. By my own use, rite is rarely mentioned, except some well-known terms, such as rites of passage. And I never use rite with merit-making. It has nothing wrong with the word, some may use it. I just avoid confusion that may arise whether I mean the same thing. I usually use ritual interchangeably with ceremony. The two have a nuance in my use. When I talk about merit-making as a ritual, I mean it is a particular kind of activity that falls within that category. Whereas merit-making as a ceremony, I put more attention to its procedural actions. Most of the time I leave out them altogether and use plainly as merit-making. In Chapter 4, I proposed the crucial characteristic as a measure to identify a ritual: “formality written by authority, without an explicit causal link to its effects OR with a high degree of subjectivity.” This shows that formality is my primary criterion. Taking 2 Rappaport

1999, p. 27 and Laidlaw 1994, p. 98 4 Smith 1980, p. 125 5 Lawson and McCauley 1990, p. 176 3 Humphrey

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9.1. Merit-making as a ritual merit-making into consideration, formality is an obvious aspect of the ceremony (the details will be elaborated in due course). This formality has an authoritative origin, but we have only a vague idea who exactly wrote it. It barely has a trace in the Pali canon as discussed earlier. This means that the ceremony is a part of the existing culture, not Buddhist by origin. The authority of merit-making ritual is therefore locally traditional. As Thailand has Buddhism as its official religion, this authority is a part of the state, and it incorporated Buddhist tenets into the local practices. The intended effect of merit-making is prosperity for both the living and the dead. The connection between what people do in the ceremony and the outcome is unclear or unseeable. It is mostly a matter of convention and personal feelings. By this account, merit-making conforms with my criterion, so it is counted as a ritual accordingly. Some readers may protest that I lock my specification with merit-making in advance. This means it can be somewhere a ritual that does not conform with this characteristic. It is true by that extent, but it is also natural to have some presupposition in mind (see the discussion on hermeneutics in Appendix E.3). The most important thing is that what we will learn from this postulation. This will be seen towards the end of the book. Considering ritual classification can fall into the same situation that I have merit-making in mind before I put forth the categories. As proposed in Chapter 5, I classify ritual into three categories: religious, magical, and social ritual. The clear demarcation among the three can be problematic, but my purpose is not to specify an airtight classification. They are a platform of our analysis and discussion which seems intelligible, because the three categories are already in common usage. My point is that merit-making, no matter how magical it looks like, is first and foremost a religious ritual operating in Buddhist doctrinal space. Yet, by a deeper analysis, merit-making is also a kind of social ritual operating as a social practice. The point will be articulated in the discussion of the results. Why don’t I count the whole range of merit-making actions as ritual? This has something to do with my definition used. As some meritorious actions are done with a clear consequence in mind, they are not ritual in this regard. For example, if I give food to a hungry hobo in a hope that he will survive, it is not a

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9. Defining merit-making ritual, just a good action. But it can be a ritual if a certain unseen effect is expected according to some belief. I zero in formal meritmaking rituals and exclude trivial merit-making actions because they are definitely a ritual, thus we can apply treatments we learn from ritual studies upon them.

9.2. Two kinds of merit-making Generally speaking, despite a vast variety of its form, Thai meritmaking has two kinds. One is for auspiciousness, another is deathrelated.6 The former is for the well-being of the living including warding off misfortune, for example, housewarming, anniversary cerebration, and wedding. The latter is for the well-being of the deceased, such as memorial services. The former is to accumulate merits to the actors ensuring their prosperity, as well as preventing adversities; and the latter is to transfer merits to the dead in a hope that it can alleviate their suffering. These actions are well-based in the Buddhist doctrine. I do not count magical rituals, like asking for rain or expelling spirits, as merit-making, even though they are performed in religious context with a give-and-take moment. Because it is somehow marginal to the founded tenets. Sometimes warding off misfortune is done with primary concern as it is widely seen in Thai culture, called sadoh-khroh (สะเดาะเคราะห์), in both Buddhist and animistic context. I also exclude this from merit-making, because it is magical ritual in essence and no one ever calls this thambun. Yet, in some occasions people mix these together into thambun-sadoh-khroh (ทำบุญสะเดาะเคราะห์). I see this as a marketing strategy of temples that try to make a profit by mingling lucrative concepts together. There can be a borderline case like this. If the primary concern is about thambun, I count this as merit-making no matter how magical it is. Otherwise, it is a magical one. I used to perform a ceremony in an occasion that a big metal nāga (serpent) statue was molded. The ceremony was a typical merit-making but as a consecration to the statue. For this marginal case, I regard as a magical ceremony with merit-making activity. The host really wanted to make merit, but in the belief 6 Kiccakāro

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1958, p. 2 [พระราชกวี (สนธิ์ กิจฺจกาโร), คู่มือปฏิบัติงานศาสนพิธีสังเขป]

9.3. General procedure of merit-making that it would sanctify the object. To make my categories coherent, I would also exclude this kind of ritual from merit-making. However, it is no problem if we analyze even a full-blown magical ritual with my methodology.7 Interesting results can be obtained anyway. My point is straightforward here: merit-making is a Buddhist, hence religious, ritual. In my analysis, I will not treat the two types (for the living and the dead) separately as different categories. I regard these as a variety of the same category which has a common core part of ceremony. Thai people generally call these two kinds of ritual as thambun.

9.3. General procedure of merit-making Formerly in Thailand, formal rituals, mostly royal ones, used brahman priests to perform the ceremonies. When learned brahmans were rare to find, King Mongkut substituted them with monks, and Hindu chanting became Buddhist chanting since then. This makes monks get more involved in rituals unassociated with their monastic life, and also makes the ceremonies brief in most part.8 However, there is no official prescription of Buddhist ceremonies for common people, except those related to royal affairs which are not our concern. For the commoners, it is a matter of traditional hand-down and purely practical purpose. As noted by Phra Rajakavee (Son Kiccakāro) when he wrote a small book on Buddhist ceremonies, there were rare writings on this subject, nearly nothing, mostly from hearsay.9 Before that time (around 1957), we can assume that meritmaking was performed variously depending on local practices. Since the Nak Tham curriculum (for Thai monastic education see Dhammasami 2004) included Buddhist Ceremonies as a subject for monks and novices to study in 196010 , the way Buddhists approach religious services has been more unified. However, there is no strict rule to follow. Rules described are just a general 7 An

application of my model can be seen in Rampungkit 2019. 1975, p. 198 9 Kiccakāro 1958, p. i 10 See Bamrungphol 2013 and Bamrungphol 2008 [ศาสนพิธี เล่ม ๑ และ ๒ ของ สำนักงานพระพุทธศาสนาแห่งชาติ เรียบเรียงโดย วิเชียร บำรุงผล] 8 Wells

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9. Defining merit-making guideline to facilitate monks and people who are awkward and uncertain how they should do at the circumstance. They mostly remind the performers of cultural norms and values. As I have observed and performed this ceremony in many places for more than a decade, I found that merit-making has a consistent procedure, regardless of some minor variations based on local practices. I will describe the merit-making that is normally practiced in the country nowadays. The procedure is summarized in a simplified form as shown in the table below. The full Pali passages and verses will not be shown here, just some part of them to make a recognition. Translation of the Pali chanting will be made only some parts that are relevant to the point we are discussing. The full translation of the Pali chanting can be found in Pāli Chanting with Translation 11 , or A Chanting Guide: Pali Passages with English Translations.12 The latter is freely distributed and easily found in the Internet.

Figure 9.1.: A typical setting of merit-making ceremony

Before the event is held, several things must be prepared, such as setting up the purpose, selecting time and place, 0. Preparation

11 Mahāmakut

12 Dhammayut

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Rājavidyālaya 2013 Order in the USA 2013

9.3. General procedure of merit-making cleaning up the place, setting up the altar table, decorating the settings, inviting participants, and officially inviting monks. At the time when monks arrive at the place, hosts greet the monks and lead them to the seats prepared. Beverage and water are offered at this time. 1. Welcoming monks

2. Paying homage to the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha

This is the formal starting point of the ceremony. The chairperson or the main host lights up two candles (the one on the right of the Buddha first) and three incense sticks at the Buddha altar table, then bows down three times. The ceremonial leader (MC) leads everyone with short Pali passages. - iminā sakkārena buddhaṃ pūjema … - arahaṃ sammāsambuddho bhagavā … The participants ask for the five precepts from monks in Pali. - mayaṃ bhante (visuṃ visuṃ …) ti-saraṇena saha pañca sīlāni yācāma … The first monk, with a ceremonial fan, recites the following passages line by line, then people repeat after them. - namo tassa bhagavato arahato sammā-sambuddhassa … - buddhaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi … (taking the refuges) - pāṇātipātā veramaṇī sikkhā-padaṃ samādiyāmi … (the first precept and so on) 3. Taking the five precepts

The use of Pali chanting in merit-making for the living and for the dead is different. The passages selected depend on the occasion and on the host’s request. I will describe here only in the commonest practice: the parittas for blessing, and the Dhammaniyāma for memorial services. 4. Chanting

A bowl of fresh water is usually provided for making lustral water during the chanting. The bowl is handed to the first monk by the host, together with a roll of white thread (siñcana) and a beeswax candle. The one end of the thread is tied to the Buddha image (at the hand or the base of the statue not the body or head), in some case, housewarming, for example, the house is surrounded by the thread clockwise starting 4.1 Chanting for blessing

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9. Defining merit-making from the Buddha image and also ending here. After the Buddha image, the monk encircles the bowl with the thread clockwise three times and unrolls the other end to the other monks towards the last one. The monks will hold the thread during the chanting. The candle is placed at the edge of the bowl in a way that the wax can drop into the water when lit. (See a typical setting of the ceremony in Figure 9.1.13 ) When all preparations are done, the MC formally requests the chanting in Pali. - vipatti-paṭibāhāya sabba-sampatti-siddhiyā, - sabba-dukkha-vināsāya parittaṃ brūtha maṅgalaṃ … The third or second monk invites the Devas to join the ceremony. The monk holds a ceremonial fan in this step. - pharitvāna mettaṃ samettā bhadantā … (The Dhammayut order differently starts with samantā cakkavāḷesu …) The first monk leads all monks with the following passages. - namo tassa bhagavato … - buddhaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi … - sambuddhe aṭṭhavīsañ-ca … (OR yo cakkhumā …) - namo arahato sammā-sambuddhassa mahesino … (The host lights up the candle at the water bowl when the following verse gets started. The bowl is handed to the monk after the candle is lit. The wax will drop to the water.) - asevanā ca bālānaṃ … (Maṅgala sutta) - yaṅ-kiñci vittaṃ idha vā huraṃ vā … (Rattana sutta) (At the last verse, when khīṇaṃ purāṇaṃ navaṃ n’atthi sambhavaṃ … nibbanti dhīrā yathā’yam-padīpo is recited, the fire of the candle is put out by dipping into the water.) - karaṇīyam-attha-kusalena … (Karaṇīya mettā sutta) - virūpakkhehi me mettaṃ … (Khandha paritta) - udetayañ-cakkhumā eka-rājā … (Mora paritta) - atthi loke sīla-guṇo … (Vaṭṭaka paritta) - itipi so bhagavā … (Dhajagga paritta) - vipassissa namatthu … (Āṭānāṭiya paritta) - yato’haṃ bhagini … (Aṅgulimāla paritta) - bojjhaṅgo sati-saṅkhāto … (Bojjhaṅga paritta) - yan-dunnimittaṃ … (Abhaya paritta) - sakkatvā buddha-ratanaṃ … 13 The

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image is taken from https://boonumpar.com/process/.

9.3. General procedure of merit-making - dukkhappattā ca niddukkhā … (farewell to the Devas) - bāhuṃ sahassam-abhinimmita-sāvudhantaṃ … (When this Jayamaṅgala-gāthā gets started, the hosts bring rice and food to the dining place, usually in the space before the monks, sometimes on the table provided.) - mahā-kāruṇiko nātho … - bhavatu sabba-maṅgalaṃ … The selection of these passages depends on the time monks have in chanting period, typically 20–40 minutes. So, it is normal that some verses are left out, some are truncated, some are added, and the sequence may be changed. In a more formal situation, a gong will be hit three times after each sutta ends. The lustral water is not used in this ceremony, so no bowl of water, thread, and a beeswax candle is needed while chanting. The MC formally requests the chanting in Pali, the Dhammaniyāma in this case. - vipatti-paṭibāhāya sabba-sampatti-siddhiyā, - sabba-dukkha-vināsāya dhammaniyāma suttaṃ brūtha maṅgalaṃ … The first monk leads all monks with the following passages. - namo tassa bhagavato … - buddhaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi … - yathāpi selā vipulā … (the Mountain) - yassa saddhā tathāgate … (the Noble Wealth) - evam-me sutaṃ … (Dhammaniyāma sutta) - sabbe saṅkhārā aniccā’ti … (the Three Characteristics) - avijjā-paccayā saṅkhārā … (Paṭiccasamuppāda) - yatā have pātubhavanti dhammā … (Buddha-udāna) - atītaṃ nānvāgameyya … (A Well-Spent Day) - bāhuṃ sahassam-abhinimmita-sāvudhantaṃ … (The food is prepared during this chanting, and the process goes as mentioned above toward the end.) 4.2 Chanting for the deceased

After monks finish chanting and the food is well prepared on its place, including one set separately for the Buddha nearby or in front of the altar table, usually upon a clean white cloth. In memorial services, another set of food is provided for the dead also nearby the altar of the departed. 5. Offering food

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9. Defining merit-making The MC leads people in Pali to offer food to the Buddha. - namo tassa bhagavato … - imaṃ sūpa-byañjana-sampannaṃ, sālīnaṃ odanaṃ, udakaṃ varaṃ buddhassa pūjema. Then the formal offering of food to the monks as a Sangha is announced in Pali, sometimes with Thai translation. - imāni mayaṃ bhante, bhattāni, saparivārāni, bhikkhu-saṅghassa, oṇojayāma … In memorial services, mataka-bhattāni is used instead of bhattāni. It signifies the food for the deceased. Then the food will be literally handed to the monks within arm’s length. The reflection on food may be recited by monks before they have food in a proper manner. In the ceremony for the dead, after monks finish their food and the place is made clean, robes (paṃsukūla cloth) are offered by this time. A white thread tied from the relics or picture of the dead is laid in front of the monks from the first to the last one. The robes prepared are laid upon the thread before each monk. This passage may be recited by the hosts before they lay the robes down. - nāmarūpaṃ aniccā, nāmarūpaṃ dukkhaṃ, nāmarūpaṃ anattā. Then each monk holds the robe placed before him with the right hand and palm up. If a ceremonial fan is available, it is held by the left hand. The first monk leads with this passage. - aniccā vata saṅkhārā, uppāda-vaya-dhammino. - uppajjitvā nirujjhanti, tesaṃ vūpasamo sukho. After the recital ends, the monks pull the robes out of the thread as if they pulled the shroud out of the dead body. Sometimes when robes are not provided, monks hold the thread instead and recite the passage. 6. Offering robes (for the dead)

After monks finish their food and the place is cleaned up, and the robes are taken in the case of memorial ceremony, gifts are offered at this time. Common gifts can be things used in daily life, candles, incenses, and flowers. Money in envelops is normally expected; some strict monasteries has a way to handle it properly. In blessing ceremony, if robes are offered as a gift, they can be handed to monks directly. Offering (movable) things to a monk is typically done by two hands with respectful 7. Offering gifts

64

9.3. General procedure of merit-making manner within arm’s length, or forearm’s length, strictly speaking. Sometimes a short passage is recited to transfer the merit and make a wish before giving. The shortest and commonest passage may be: - idaṃ me ñātīnaṃ hotu, sukhitā hontu ñātayo. This marks the end of the ceremony. The first monk solo recites this Pali passage with a ceremonial fan. - yathā vārivahā pūrā … maṇi jotiraso yathā. During this recital, the hosts pour a cup of water to transfer the merit to the deceased. This is normally done in all merit-making ceremonies, the blessing included. Then the second monk leads all other monks with this passage. The hosts empty the water if it remains. - sabbītiyo vivajjantu …āyu vaṇṇo sukhaṃ, balaṃ. After that, the first monk leads another passages. In memorial services, Tirokuḍḍa Sutta is normally used. adāsi me akāsi me, ñāti-mittā sakhā ca me … (or in its truncated form) ayañ-ca kho dakkhiṇā dinnā … In blessing ceremonies, various passages may be chosen, such as sabba-buddhānubhāvena …, or ratanattayānubhāvena …, or aggato ve pasannānaṃ, etc. Typically the anumodanā ends with: - bhavatu sabba-maṅgalaṃ … Sometimes if there is a learned monk, a short dhamma talk will be delivered before the anumodanā. In the blessing ceremony, the lustral water made in the previous chanting is sprinkled to the participants and the place at the very end of the event, normally by the first monk with a bunch of grass stalks while the other monks recite this verse: - jayanto bodhiyā mūle … labhantatthe padakkhiṇe. 8. Anumodanā (thanks-giving)

65

10. Merit-making structural analysis After we get a clear picture of merit-making as the object of our study, now we will analyze its structural constituents with the model described in Chapter 6 (the last component excluded). This will give us a deeper understanding of the ritual and pave the way for the comprehensive analysis, which is the major tool of this thesis to get a more exhaustive understanding.

10.1. Ritual actions in merit-making What being counted as actions are mostly articulated in the procedure above. The actions are what people do to achieve their purpose in the event. The main ritual actions in merit-making, including additional accounts, are described as follows: Before the event is held, the hosts have to do several things described above. They are about the actions themselves such as the purpose and other supplemental activities; about the actors such as where the monks come and how many of them, whom will be invited, who is the ceremonial leader (MC); about the place such as the proper location to seat the monks, to place the altar tables, and other settings; about the time such as when the event occurs, how long, what time to fetch the monks; about the objects such as food for monks and everyone, gifts for monks and guests if any, objects used in the ceremony; about the language such as what kind of recitation will be chanted. In inviting the monks, the hosts should inform them before hand at least one week, and do it formally by the hosts themselves and in person if possible. The details must be specified, such as the purpose, the place, the time, how many monks is needed, which chanting is expected, how to go to the place, etc. (a) Preparation

66

10.1. Ritual actions in merit-making When the monks arrive the place, by themselves or the hosts fetch them, the hosts should greet the monks by themselves and lead them to the seats. Beverage will be handed to the monks. Drinking water is, allowed by the Vinaya1 , not necessary to be given. However, in the form of bottle water, it is also better to hand to monks because of being unnatural and owned. In the past, some chewing herbs and tobaccos are also expected, but today they are regarded as inappropriate. According to the Vinaya, monks should not go to houses with sandals on.2 By this regard, the hosts will prepare water for washing monks’ feet and make them dry with cloth. We can normally see monks go barefoot in the morning alms, but in this situation all monks use footwear when they go to houses. Washing monks’ feet is thus rarely seen nowadays, yet I was treated like this somewhere in the countryside, even though I used slippers and the feet are mostly clean. (b) Welcoming monks

This marks the beginning of the ceremony. The host who is the chairperson lights up the candles and incenses. In the wedding, it is the bride and groom who do this opening. The first Pali passages recited by the participants signify the homage paying to the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha. In religious ceremonies, Buddhists normally place their hands together in a lotus shape at their chest to show respect when they utter Pali passages and listen to Pali chanting, and when they interact with monks formally. Monks do the same pose when they are chanting. (c) Paying homage to the Triple Gems

This action is done as a part of the precept-taking, but it has a different purpose. Buddhaṃ saraṇaṃ gacchāmi means I go to the Buddha for refuge, then to the Dhamma and the Sangha respectively. This action is significant to the Buddhist identity. It is generally regarded as the formal acceptance of Buddhism as one’s own way of life (or religion in modern sense). The first use of this assertion, according to the Pali canon, was by a wealthy householder who is the father of Yasa, the noble youth. When the Buddha explained the Dhamma to him, the householder saw the Truth and proclaimed that he took refuge in (d) Taking the refuges

1 Rhys

Davids and Oldenberg 1899, p. 40:§40 1951, p. 260

2 Horner

67

10. Merit-making structural analysis the Blessed One, the Dhamma, and the fraternity of the Bhikkhus. Then he asked the Buddha to receive him as a disciple.3 Yasa, the noble youth, attained the arhatship in that occasion. This can be seen as a strategic teaching of Buddhist traditions. It is not enough to just take the refuges, (typical) Buddhists should observe the five precepts as well. Thus monks use this occasion to tell or remind people that what are regarded as good conducts. They are not rules as such but a form of training to refrain from taking life, stealing, sexual misconduct, telling lies, and intoxicating liquors and drugs that lead to heedlessness. However, most people take this otherwise. They see as a kind of give-and-take. Monks give them the precepts, and they take them as theirs. When they have the precepts by this formal recital, they regard themselves as morally pure at the moment. As the result of this, what they give to monks will yield unblemished merits, as the Buddha said in this stanza. (e) Taking the five precepts

Yo sīlavā sīlavantesu dadāti dānaṃ, Dhammena laddhaṃ supasannacitto; Abhisaddahaṃ kammaphalaṃ uḷāraṃ, Taṃ ve dānaṃ vipulapphalanti brūmi.4 When a virtuous person to a virtuous person gives With trusting heart a gift righteously obtained, Placing faith that the fruit of action is great, That gift, I say, will come to full fruition.5 That is the reason why Buddhists usually take the precepts (orally) before they making a donation to monks. It is about the benefit returned not an intention to train themselves. This is the main task of monks in merit-making. It has a multifarious purpose. It can be seen as a preservation of the original form of some principal teachings, particularly those which are used in memorial services. Monks are therefore supposed to recite them fluently by heart. Another seen purpose of the (f) Chanting

3 Rhys

Davids and Oldenberg 1899, p. 106:§10 3.4.382 5 Ñāṇamoli and Bodhi 1995, p. 1106:§14; MN No. 142 4 MN

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10.1. Ritual actions in merit-making chanting is to calm the mind. In the period of chanting, even no one knows the meaning, including the chanters themselves, serenity can be felt to some extent. However, most people expect a magical effect from the chanting. It is probably in the awareness of monks as well since recitation has been used as parittas. Piyadassi Thera who translated parittas into English sees parittas as a cure by the mind upon the body. He asserts that parittas are “not ‘rakshana mantras’ [rākṣamantras] or protective incantations found in Brahmanic religion, nor are they magical rites.”6 I reject this obscurantist view on empirical ground and see parittas as ‘magical rites’ in essence, not on a par with science. Spiro (1982) would agree with me. However, as noted by Rhys Davids, parittas can be seen in line with the Buddhist doctrine “as much in harmony with it as is prayer with a theistic religion.”7 I think this remark can be the case if we consider chanting as a prayer which people have to do it by themselves. In the context of merit-making, it is quite off the mark. According to Gombrich, paritta can be grouped with religious wish (prārthanā) and the act of truth (saccakiriyā), for they all use the power of religious utterances.8 It is logical to see them as a kind of white magic. Some details about the passages and verses used in chanting are articulated in the section of ritual languages below. This is a very old practice which is normally performed in every formal merit-making with food offering. The logic of this practice can be that the Buddha is regarded as the head of all monks in the ceremony, if monks are fed, the Buddha should be fed also. Thus food is offered to him symbolically, as people prepare a tiny set of food for him. Mostly, however, a full set of food is offered, and people take that food later as a blessed remainder by reciting this Pali: sesaṃ maṅgalā yācāmi (May I have this leftover for my blessing). People do not do the same thing with food offered to the dead, usually offered with small containers. They normally discard it. Offering food to the Buddha (image) is somehow at odds with the doctrine. As suggested by the textbook, it is regarded as a metaphor, and can (g) Offering food to the Buddha

6 Piyadassi

1999 Davids and Rhys Davids 1921, p. 186 8 Gombrich 1971b, p. 225 7 Rhys

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10. Merit-making structural analysis be neglected if seen as unnecessary.9 Still, the practice is done as a norm. This is regarded as the main offering because food is a requisite and monks are not allowed to cook for themselves.10 In Buddhist tenets, monks are generally regarded as a good field of merit. When people give things to monks, like farmers sow seeds in a good field, they will yield a good result. Arhans are ideal receivers. As put in Peta-Vatthu, “[t]he Arhans verily are the world’s incomparable field of merit: even a small act of mercy done unto them gives men rebirth among devas.”11 Even if most monks nowadays are not regarded as such, they still are a good kind of merit field in a lesser extent. Moreover, when the receivers are a group of monks regardless of their quality, not a particular monk, the result of the giving is incalculable. We call this emphsaṅgha-dāna. The Buddha said in Dakkhiṇāvibhanga Sutta (MN No. 142) this way: (h) Offering food to monks

Bhavissanti kho panānanda, anāgatamaddhānaṃ gotrabhuno kāsāvakaṇṭhā dussīlā pāpadhammā. Tesu dussīlesu saṅghaṃ uddissa dānaṃ dassanti. Tadāpāhaṃ, ānanda, saṅghagataṃ dakkhiṇaṃ asaṅkheyyaṃ appameyyaṃ vadāmi. Na tvevāhaṃ, ānanda, kenaci pariyāyena saṅghagatāya dakkhiṇāya pāṭipuggalikaṃ dānaṃ mahapphalataraṃ vadāmi.12 In future times, Ānanda, there will be members of the clan who are “yellow-necks,” immoral, of evil character. People will give gifts to those immoral persons for the sake of the Sangha. Even then, I say, an offering made to the Sangha is incalculable, immeasurable. And I say that in no way is a gift to a person individually ever more fruitful than an offering made to the Sangha.13 This passage, as well as the whole sutta, has a significant influence on Buddhists’ consciousness, especially on the issue of giving 9 Bamrungphol

2013, p. 54 1951, pp. 287–8 11 Gehman 1974, p. 3 12 MN 3.4.380 13 Ñāṇamoli and Bodhi 1995, p. 1105:§8 10 Horner

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10.1. Ritual actions in merit-making (dāna). This makes most donors prefer group of monks as recipients, because it ensures the fruits of the donation no matter how good or bad monks are. The positive side of this is the Sangha can survive regardless of its members’ standard. I see it in a negative way, because this can also deteriorate the quality of the Sangha as the whole. Perhaps, this is a kind of strategic teaching. As a monk myself, when I hear monks teach people “give more, get more, and give it to us,” I feel qualm nonetheless. There is a minor point worth mentioning. After handing food to monks, laypersons should not touch the food (containers) again, because this makes the giving void. If it occurs, the food is to be handed again. This is a common practice in Thailand. Clothes are another requisite that people often give to monks. Robe offering play a significant role in the ceremony for the dead. The robes are not given to monks directly in this occasion; they can be so if treated as a normal gift. In the death-related ritual, the robes are regarded as paṃsukūla cloth, a discarded rag or a shroud of a corpse which monks traditionally find to make their robes. The real practice is rare nowadays, so it is performed as a metaphor. In this death-related event, Buddhist teachings seem to make a significant penetration into people’s awareness. Before the robes are laid for monks, the donors recite a passage mentioned above (nāmarūpaṃ aniccā, etc.), which means “a bunch of mind and body is changing, unbearable, and not-self.” Monks, likewise, when pulling the robes, recite the following passage: (i) Offering robes

Aniccā vata saṅkhārā uppādavaya dhammino. Upajjitvā nirujjhanti, tesaṃ vūpasamo sukho.14 Impermanent indeed are formations; Their nature is to arise and vanish. Having arisen, they cease: Their appeasement is blissful.15 Other than food and robes, gifts are normally offered to monks. Money is indispensable in most cases. It is normally handed with an envelop. Some give as a voucher or a (j) Offering gifts

14 Theragāthā 15 Bodhi

20.1168 2000, p. 252:§609

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10. Merit-making structural analysis pavāraṇā (invitation) ticket. Sometimes, money and other gifts are given to the Buddha as well. This portion supposedly belongs to the whole monastery. Although, as known by all monks, money (a form of gold and silver) and trading are forbidden to monks16 , they are regarded as inevitable to most Thais. Monks therefore normally accept money and engage in trading in various ways. While some monks outright take and use money, some keep it in a bank account and use it electronically. There are, of course, some monasteries in Thai forest tradition that have a good system of money management for monks, i.e., by helps of lay stewards (kappiyakāraka), but these ideal monasteries are quite rare today, mostly located in the far countryside, on a mountain, or in a forest that money is really unnecessary or useless. Moreover, most of these strict monasteries generally have enough (or even surplus) supplies from their good management and devout donors. This is a ‘thanks-giving.’ Because of the word’s specific meaning, I avoid it and use Pali term instead. At the end of the event, monks thank all people in the event by making them rejoice in their givings and by assuring their offerings which will yield them a good outcome, a fortune, a good health, for example. In this action, the merits accumulated will be transferred to the departed. (k) Anumodanā

10.2. Ritual actors in merit-making According to the procedure, the human actors involved in the merit-making can be classified as follows: As the main actors of the ceremony, monks are dispensable. Any ritual without a monk is not counted as meritmaking by my definition, also by most Thai Buddhists. When Thai Buddhists go thambun, the recipient is supposed to be a monk or monks. When monks perform a formal ceremony, they go in set, usually nine, seven, or five in number. Monks less than five are uncommon in merit-making, because they do not form a legitimate sangha. The minimum number of monks that (a) Monks

16 Rhys

72

Davids and Oldenberg 1899, pp. 26–7:§18–20

10.2. Ritual actors in merit-making forms a quorum is four.17 A fourfold order of monks is normally used in funeral ceremony, particularly in recitation of the Abhidhamma, so most Thai Buddhists prefer avoiding four monks in merit-making even they form a quorum. If monks are really limited, some people still prefer three over four monks. The number of monks matters here, because people want to do a saṅgha-dāna in this occasion (see above). A valid quorum of receivers makes a valid saṅgha-dāna. However, it is not the case in principle, because the Buddha prescribed size of order only in monastic affairs, not household related. For example, a quorum of ten monks can validly do an ordination.18 Practically, only one monk can be a saṅgha-dāna recipient, if the donor intends to give to the whole monastery not an individual monk in particular. Nevertheless, the number of monks still matters in most cases, or if enough monks are available. In a very formal or big ceremony as a royal one, the number can be ten, eleven, twenty, or more. In a wedding, an even number of monks can be set, such as six, eight, or ten. However, an odd number of monks is absolutely acceptable in most cases. The main giver is also indispensable. It can be those who want to gain merit for themselves, or relatives of the deceased who want to transfer the merit to the passed-away. The host can be only one person or a group of people who collectively share their donation. Typically, it is the family of the house where the ceremony is held. (b) Hosts

The number of participants in the ceremony can be an index to how big and important it is. The hosts usually invite their relatives, friends and neighbors to join the event. Sometimes guests are just a few persons, sometimes several dozens, hundreds or more. Guests usually share the donation to some extent, but some hosts refuse to accept the share. Guests can be seen as witnesses. (c) Guests

Besides human actors, there are also non-human actors involved, such as: 17 See 18 p.

Horner 1951, pp. 457–8 458

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10. Merit-making structural analysis Symbolically, the Buddha represented by a Buddha image is the head of all monks performing the ceremony. His role, even as a sign, is complicated as we shall see in the further analysis. (d) The Buddha

In death-related ceremonies, the spirits of the deceased are the main target of the merit-transfer. These spirits are represented by their pictures and relics. In some cases, there are nothing of that kind, just the names written in a paper is applicable. These representations are set on an altar table apart from the Buddha altar. (e) Spirits of the dead

Most Buddhists believe in gods. Many of them are around us, the guardian spirits who protect the house, for instance. Devas do not play a significant role in merit-making. They are invited to join the ceremony traditionally to listen to the suttas recited, and they are the secondary target of the merittransfer nowadays. (f) Devas

In the same category but unlike gods, ghosts are non-human beings who undergo a bad status due to their past deeds. They are also the secondary target of the merit-transfer. (g) Ghosts

10.3. Ritual places in merit-making In my experience, merit-making can be held in any kind of place that can hold a number of people. People usually use their house as the venue. An office building, a conventional hall, an auditorium, an outdoor area, and a playground are also the common places to be seen. I once performed a housewarming in a snooker club. However, setting up the place has some formal components. The altar table of the Buddha is indispensable (see Figure 9.1). There are a standard set of the altar table, normally composed of seven pieces, which can be widely seen in Buddhist temples and houses. The altar has the Buddha image at the top. Two candles, three incense sticks, and a pair of vases of flowers are set on this table. If the standard altar set cannot be provided, the Buddha image can be placed in some raised area or a small table (a) Altars

74

10.3. Ritual places in merit-making regarded as the altar. The Buddha altar is normally placed on the far right of all monks. In memorial services, the altar of the deceased is also set up separately. Pictures or relics are usually used to represent the dead. The dead’s altar is placed nearby, not too far, but it will never mix with the Buddha altar. If the place is large enough, seats for monks are arranged into a row on which monks can sit next to each other. At the far right end of the row, the Buddha altar table is located. The first monk sits next to the Buddha. The less senior monks sit next in row down to novices at the far left. Every seat is marked by a cushion or just a plain mat. It is not just for a comfort of the monks, because monks are not supposed to sit on the same floor-covering mat with laypersons, especially with women.19 The seats of monks are also set on a higher level. If the floor is even, the level is marked by the way that mats are laid upon each other. Monks should sit on the highest layer of the overlapping. In some place, a raised stage and a colorful curtain is set. If the area is limited, monks can sit in two or three rows, or even in circle. Each seat of monks is equipped with a glass, a bottle of water, napkins, and a spittoon or a small bin, normally on the right side of the sitter. (b) Seats for monks

In the ceremony with food offering, the dining place for monks must be prepared. The most common place is the space in front of the monks. In some cases or if the space is limited, food can be served on tables or a separate room provided. If it is possible, food for monks is better prepared for each of them separately. According to the rules, monks do not share dish and cup in eating and drinking.20 But the common practice nowadays is that food is served in groups and monks eat together by sitting in circle, sometimes two or three monks share a same set of food. In some monasteries, monks normally eat with their bowl, and they take the bowl with them when performing ceremonies. In this case, food can be prepared only one set and pass to all monks from the first one. Monks will select what they want, mix into the bowl, and eat it independently. (c) Dining place

19 See 20 p.

Horner 1963, p. 237 171

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10. Merit-making structural analysis All minor things regarding to the place can be seen as the ambient or surroundings. It can be, for example, flower decorations, background music, minor shows, etc. (d) The ambient

10.4. Ritual times in merit-making We can say that there is no limit in time when people perform merit-making. They can do anytime in any season throughout the year. Time in Buddhist merit-making is not a big concern. However, in memorial services there are periods of time people hold the ceremony traditionally, typically 7 days, 50 days, and 100 days after the death of the person. There are also some considerations according to the circumstances. The most typical way to do the ceremony is to offer food to monks. There are two periods available, breakfast in the morning and lunch around 11 AM, for monks are not allowed to eat at the wrong time (afternoon for Thai monk).21 The procedure of both are the same. However, some monasteries have only one meal per day. They may decline the ceremony in lunchtime. The whole ceremony takes usually around 2–3 hours. Sometimes monks are invited only to chant in the evening the day before the feast day. In this case, the ceremony has two events spanned in two days. The first reciting event may take 30–60 minutes, and the second 1–2 hours. (a) Merit-making with food offering

If the donors do not intend to give food to monks, or their time is not available before noon, they can perform the offering at anytime. In the formal situation, the procedure of the ceremony is the same as mentioned above except no food involved. Sometimes, the recital of Buddhajayamaṅgalagāthā (bāhuṃ sahas …) is left out. This may take around 30–60 minutes. In a less formal fashion, the long Pali recitation is skipped. The ceremony can take a very short time in this case, possibly less than 10 minutes. However, as a reminiscence of Brahmanic practice, Thai people sometimes consult an astrologer, or a knowledgeable monk, (b) Merit-making without food offering

21 Rhys

76

Davids and Oldenberg 1899, p. 40:§37

10.5. Ritual objects in merit-making to mark an auspicious day and time.22 Although, this practice is still fashionable today, in merit-making it is less common to do so. People mostly take the day when they and monks are convenient. In a more serious ceremony, like ordination or wedding, people commonly choose the date and time according to an astrological advice. It is worth noting that the date of ordination itself is taken less seriously than the date of disrobing, because when transforming from a higher status (monk) to a lower one (laity), people do it more carefully. In doing a good thing, like becoming a monk or making merit, it is good for anytime, so to speak.

10.5. Ritual objects in merit-making Some important objects used in merit-making can be enumerated as follows: This is a representation of the Buddha. Despite being regarded as a symbol, it is indispensable nonetheless. Any form of the image is acceptable unless it is too small like an amulet. The most typical form is in sitting position. (a) The Buddha image

This is where the Buddha image is placed, also candles, incenses and flowers. In memorial services, the altar table of the dead must be set up separately by using a photo and relics of the deceased as a representation. (b) Altars

This thread, saisin (สายสิญจน์) in Thai ,is commonly used in Buddhist ceremonies, despite its Hindu origin. In Sinhalese tradition, it is called pirit nūl 23 or paritta cord, and used in a similar manner. It symbolizes a connection or link. In merit-making, it is used for two purposes. First, in the blessing the thread links the Buddha (image) to the bowl of water and to every monks in the row. We can see this as a power line, as also noticed by Phya Anuman Rajadhon24 , with the Buddha (c) White thread (siñcana)

22 See

Anuman Rajadhon 1957, pp. 9–18 [พระยาอนุมานราชธน, ประเพณีทำบุญ-

สวดมนต์เลี้ยงพระ] 23 Gombrich 24 Anuman

1971b, p. 201; but nūla in Hardy 1860, p. 241 Rajadhon 1986, p. 59

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10. Merit-making structural analysis and monks as the generator. The power is generated when monks do the chanting, and the water in the bowl is charged. We get holy (lustral) water as a result. In some occasion, particularly in housewarming, the thread is usually tied around the house as well, for the house will be blessed and protected. Another use of the thread is in the ritual for the dead. This thread is simply used as a link to the dead by tying one end to their pictures and relics, and the other end is laid over by robes for paṃsukūla. This white thread shall be treated with respect, because it represents what it connects. So, we normally see this thread in a high position to prevent it from being trod or crossed over. In blessing ritual, a bowl of water is usually provided to make lustral water, mantra water or nammon (น้ำมนต์) in Thai, which is used at the end of the ceremony. A beeswax candle is also used in the consecrating process. The wax dropped in the water marks the sacredness of the water. Sometimes, the wax forms a number-like pattern on the water which people regard as a lucky number (see Figure 10.125 ). The water must be clean; drinking water is normally used. But rainwater is regarded as inappropriate, because, as a traditional belief, water will be sacred only if it comes from earth.26 The bowl used here is normally made of brass or steel, for gold and silver are untouchable to monks. If any unavailable, a monk’s bowl is applicable. A cup of water, normally seen as a small vessel made of brass, is also used for transferring the merit. This practice was adapted from Brahmanic ritual called tarpaṇa.27 When the anumodanā get started, the water is poured from the vessel to a bigger one. This water will be discarded outside the (roof of the) house, in an open area or under a big tree, because as a local belief the departed spirits do not enter into the house.28 They wait to receive the merit outside. (d) Water

Thais call this taalapat (ตาลปัตร), originally made of a palm leaf, possibly a talipot or a toddy palm, cut into a (e) Ceremonial fan

25 The image is taken from https://www.thairath.co.th/news/society/ 1666300. 26 Anuman Rajadhon 1957, p. 37 27 p. 8, pp. 97–8; Anuman Rajadhon 1986, p. 66 28 Anuman Rajadhon 1957, p. 96

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10.5. Ritual objects in merit-making fan. Thai ceremonial fan has a long handle (see Figure 9.1). The Burmese style has a short handle and looks more like a fan. It may serve multiple purposes in the past. In Thai tradition, it is normally used by monks in formal ceremonies, particularly in giving precepts, inviting devas, taking paṃsukūla cloth, anumodanā, and in some chanting situations such as the Abhidhamma. Monks use the fan by holding it in front of them with right hand, so it will cover their face. Some told me that monks used it to shield themselves from fire when taking cloths from cremations. I doubt that possibility, but it could happen in some (rare) occasions. In Thai Sangha, the ceremonial fan is also used as an insignia or a badge signifying the monastic rank of the holder.29

Figure 10.1.: Beeswax in lustral water Traditionally, food is regarded as the main offering in merit-making. The hosts serve the best food they can provide to monks. In Thai culture, monks eat as the hosts do. There are few limitations concerning food, particularly with meat. According to the rules, monks are not allowed to have meat that people killed particularly for them.30 And some kinds of meat are forbidden, specifically, human flesh31 , also that of elephant (f) Food

29 For

more detail see Anuman Rajadhon 1986, pp. 61–2 1951, p. 325 31 p. 298 30 Horner

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10. Merit-making structural analysis and horse as regarded as royal emblems, that of dog and snake as felt disgusting by people, and that of lion, tiger, panther, bear, and hyena for “such animals would smell the eaters and attack them.”32 Offering robes to monks is also a traditional form of merit-making. Although nowadays monks normally have enough robes to use, in some areas monks even have a big surplus of them, robes are still offered to monks regularly. In memorial services, robes are symbolically used as paṃsukūla cloth. In a small ceremony, robes may be neglected, for they are known as unnecessary. In a big ceremony, robe-offering can reflect the social status of the donors. (g) Robes

Besides food and robes, other gifts that are usually offered to monks are things used in daily life, flowers with candles and incenses, and, expectedly, money. (h) Gifts

10.6. Ritual languages in merit-making Languages used in merit-making play a significant part in the ceremony, as we know that the main duty of monks performing the ritual is to recite some suttas, and most parts of the ceremony start with Pali utterances. Pali chanting is the essence of Buddhist ceremonies.33 However, from my experiences and observations the use of linguistic elements here is not a serious matter, at least on a practical ground. Monks can recite wrongly sometimes, the MC may partly use the wrong passage and use unconventional Pali, let alone ordinary people who know nothing about Pali. Still, the ceremony is regarded as effective. It is effective in religious and social function of the ritual, not the magical one. That is a reason I count merit-making as a religious ritual. The main use of languages in merit-making can be described as follows: The well-known passages are namo tassa bhagavato … (to the Buddha) and arahaṃ (a) For paying homage to the Triple Gems 32 Harvey 33 Wells

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2000, p. 159; Horner 1951, pp. 298–300 1975, p. 44

10.6. Ritual languages in merit-making sammāsambuddho bhagavā … (to the Triple Gems). (b) For formal requests and invitations, such as requesting five precepts, the recitation, and inviting devas The request for the

parittas goes like this:

For warding off misfortune, for the achievement of all good fortune, for the dispelling of all pain/danger/illness, may you chant a blessing and protection.34 This request reflects the attitude and objective of the chanting. It asks for magical effects which are realized by the power of the parittas. This is obviously at odds with the whole system of Buddhist teachings, more about this later in the section of discussion. This can strengthen the will of the donors when they give the offerings to monks as a sangha, hence saṅga-dāna is done, and when they give them to the departed if it is the case. (c) For formal offering, food and gifts, for example

(d) For assertion as taking the five precepts, taking the refuges

Undertaking the five precepts by asserting it out loud makes the action powerful and memorable. Taking the refuges by saying it likewise strengthens our will to do so. However, these actions are done ritually by rote. They produce no effect on the degree of morality and Buddhist-ness. Some of the passages and verses used in the chanting will be taken into account here. For full translations can be found elsewhere35 , I will only recount their use and significance briefly. The Pali referring method here is mostly unconventional, except for AN and SN. The English translations are mainly used and referred. For the Pali counterparts, if their sutta number is easily (e) For chanting, the main use of monks

34 Dhammayut

Order in the USA 2013, p. 147 sources attributed below; Piyadassi 1999; Spiro 1982, pp. 263–70; Wells 1975; and chanting books mentioned earlier. 35 In

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10. Merit-making structural analysis identified, it will be indicated, typically for DN, MN, and the Jātakas. The decimals show that there are sections in the volume. In these cases, the references are from the Pali canon compiled as the sixth council in Myanmar (the Chaṭṭha Saṅgāyana). (i) Maṅgala sutta (the discourse on blessings) Sources: Khuddakapāṭha 536 ; Suttanipāta 2.437 Benefits: Prosperity, warding off perils38 Desc.: The sutta enumerates 38, as counted by Thai tradition, items of blessings. They are a guideline for living a good life, starting with not to associate with fools or the wicked, and ending with to have a secure mind. The meanings of the sutta are significant and helpful as a direction for life, but people take them otherwise in ritual context. (ii) Rattana sutta (the discourse on treasures) Sources: Khuddakapāṭha 639 ; Suttanipāta 2.140 Benefits: Well-being, warding off perils and obstacles Desc.: The sutta praises the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha in a number of stanzas. It is a poetic work by form. A noteworthy verse is started with khīṇaṃ purāṇaṃ, which in the chanting the candle for making the lustral water is put out. It has a metaphor here, as the verse goes:

36 C.

A. F. Rhys Davids 1931, pp. 143–5, Pali included 1898, pp. 42–3; with Pali see Chalmers 1895, pp. 64–5 38 Gandhasārābhivaṃsa 2007 [พระคันธสาราภิวงศ์, บทสวดมนต์พระปริตรธรรม], onwards in benefits 39 C. A. F. Rhys Davids 1931, pp. 146–50, Pali included 40 Fausböll 1898, pp. 36–9; with Pali see Chalmers 1895, pp. 54–9 37 Fausböll

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Khīṇaṃ purāṇaṃ nava natthi sambhavaṃ, virattacittāyatike bhavasmiṃ; Te khīṇabījā avirūḷhichandā, nibbanti dhīrā yathāyaṃ padīpo.41 Ended the old, there is no new taking birth. Dispassioned their minds toward further becoming, they, with no seed, no desire for growth, enlightened, go out like this flame.42 As the light is put out, the mind shall be dispassioned and enlightened, so no new birth is undergone. The meaning is profound and has no any magic. (iii) Karaṇīya mettā sutta (the discourse on goodwill) Sources: Khuddakapāṭha 943 ; Suttanipāta 1.844 Benefits: A good sleep and waking up, no bad dream; being lovable to humans and non-humans; being protected by devas; warding off dangers; easily getting concentration; having a happy face; having blessings; undergoing a mindful death; rebirth as a Brahmā45 Desc.: Because of its poetic form, this is the most difficult verse of all to recite. As implied by its benefits, this is also the most popular paritta suggested to chant regularly. It is about goodwill or loving-kindness toward all beings. 41 Khuddakapāṭha,

Ratanasutta 15 Order in the USA 2013, p. 119, emphases added 43 C. A. F. Rhys Davids 1931, pp. 154–8, Pali included 44 Fausböll 1898, pp. 24–5; with Pali see Chalmers 1895, pp. 36–9 45 See also Hare 1935, p. 103; Bodhi 2012, p. 1111:§1; AN IV 150 42 Dhammayut

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10. Merit-making structural analysis (iv) Khandha paritta (the group protection) Sources: Ahirājasutta, AN II 7346 ; the Vinaya, Cūlavagga 25147 ; Jātaka 20348 Benefits: A protection from harmful animals Desc.: This is a minor paritta, often cut to appamāṇo buddho …, and sometimes left out. As described in the Vinaya, when a monk was bitten by a snake and died, the Buddha suggested monks to make a charm for self-protection. Interestingly, the charm is not done upon snakes but with loving-kindness toward four royal snake families49 as addressed in the verses. (v) Mora Sources: Benefits: Desc.:

paritta (the peacock’s protection) Jātaka 15950 A protection from enmity This is also a minor paritta. Sometimes only a second half is chanted

(vi) Vaṭṭaka paritta (the baby quail’s protection) Sources: Cariyāpiṭaka 3.951 ; Jātaka 3552 Benefits: A protection from fire, conflagration Desc.: This is another minor, commonly used in housewarming to protect the house from fire (vii) Dhajagga paritta (the top-of-the-banner-staff protection) Sources: Sakkasaṃyutta, SN I 219-2053 Benefits: A protection from dangers and falling off a high place

46 Woodward

1933, pp. 81–2:§67; Bodhi 2012, pp. 456–7:§67 1963, pp. 148–9 48 Rouse 1895, pp. 100–2 49 Horner 1963, p. 148 50 Rouse 1895, pp. 100–2 51 Horner 1975, pp. 40–1 52 Chalmers 1895, pp. 88-90 (partly) 53 Bodhi 2000, pp. 319–21:§868–71 47 Horner

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10.6. Ritual languages in merit-making Desc.:

Since this sutta is quite long to recite it all, in most situation it is cut. There are two possible cuts in this sutta. The commonest cut is itipi so bhagavā … which describes the characteristics of the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha. This passage is frequently used in various occasions by its own right. Another cut is the stanzas at the end of the sutta starting with araññe rukkhamūle vā. The whole sutta suggests that in experiencing fear or terror one should recollect the Buddha, the Dhamma, and the Sangha to lessen that fear.

(viii) Āṭānāṭiya paritta (homage to the seven past Buddhas) Sources: DN 3254 Benefits: A protection from harmful non-humans; having good health and being happy Desc.: This paritta is used occasionally. The verses list a number of the Buddhas in the past. It sounds like if you know some big names, you will get protected. (ix) Aṅgulimāla paritta (Ven. Angulimala’s protection) Sources: MN 8655 Benefits: Having an easy child delivery; danger protection Desc.: This is a short one, normally used with Bojjhaṅga paritta. The passage cut to recite is read: “Sister, since I was born, I do not recall that I have ever intentionally deprived a living being of life. By this truth, may you be well and may your infant be well!”56 As obviously indicated, this paritta normally used in wedding. (x) Bojjhaṅga paritta (the factor-for-awakening protection) Sources: Bojjhaṅgasaṃyutta, SN V 80–157 54 Rhys

Davids and Rhys Davids 1921, pp. 188–97; Walshe 1995, pp. 471–8 1957, pp. 284–92; Ñāṇamoli and Bodhi 1995, pp. 710–7 56 p. 714 57 Bodhi 2000, pp. 1580–2:§14–6 (not exactly as recited) 55 Horner

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10. Merit-making structural analysis Benefits: Having a good health and long life; being free of obstacles Desc.: This paritta is normally used as a bodily cure or to prolong the life. The use of this paritta sounds peculiar to me, because the original form of the spell is unknown, or lost, or none. As described in the suttas, they are only stories of it. What we use now is a recount of the events related to the factors and some sickness. Strangely enough, it is not the factors (mindfulness, analysis of qualities, persistence, rapture, calm, concentration, and equanimity) themselves that make the cure. It is a hearing of them that heals, in this case just a (meta-)hearing of stories of them. It is a pure magical use. Some important passages and verses which are used in memorial services for the dead are described below. Unlike blessings, these chantings are not regarded to have any benefit in magical terms, but most of them have instead a deep meaning in doctrinal perspectives. (xi) Pabbatūpamasutta (the Mountain) Sources: Kosalasaṃyutta, SN I 101–258 Desc.: The verses recited are the ending part of the whole sutta. There is a metaphor of massive rock mountains rolling over living beings in all directions. No one can escape this crushing, like death overcomes all of us. Therefore, one should conduct oneself by the Dhamma with body, speech, and mind. The message is quite clear that as death is inevitable one should live the life wisely. (xii) Dhammaniyāmasutta (the orderliness of the Dhamma) Sources: Uppādāsutta, AN I 28659

58 Bodhi

2000, pp. 192–4:§441–5 1933, pp. 264–5:§134; Bodhi 2012, pp. 363–4:§136

59 Woodward

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10.6. Ritual languages in merit-making Desc.:

The sutta expresses the heart of the Buddha’s teaching in a nutshell. Whether there are Buddhas or not, “there persists that law, that stableness of the Dhamma, that fixed course of the Dhamma: All conditioned phenomena are impermanent, … suffering. … [and] All phenomena are non-self.”60 In deathrelated events, the message can be that death, or changing in general, is coming eventually and inevitably; you suffer because that is way things go; there is no one to undergo all of these nonetheless; why do you grieve then?

(xiii) Paṭiccasamuppāda (dependent co-arising/origination) Sources: the Vinaya, Mahāvagga 1.161 ; Nidānasaṃyutta, SN II 1-262 Desc.: This remarkable reflection of the Buddha is a technical explanation of how the whole process of suffering goes and ceases. The constructive circle begins at with ignorance as condition, volitional formations comes into being; then the chain goes likewise in pair with volitional formations and consciousness; and in the same manner with name-and-form; the six sense bases; contact; feeling; craving; clinging; existence; birth; aging-and-death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, displeasure, and despair; resulting finally in the whole mass of suffering. The deconstructive circle begins at with the cessation of ignorance comes the cessation of volitional formations, and so on, resulting finally in the cessation of suffering. For general Buddhists, this may be too profound to be comprehended. Monks are better in remembering these elements, because they recite the passage regularly, but it is still difficult for most of monks to understand them all.

60 pp.

363–4, emphases added 1951, pp. 1–2 62 Bodhi 2000, pp. 533–4:§1–2 61 Horner

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10. Merit-making structural analysis (xiv) Bhaddekarattasutta (A Well-Spent Day) Sources: MN 13163 Desc.: This is a treasured sutta often cited by Dhamma preachers. The verses starts with “Let not a person revive the past, Or on the future build his hopes; For the past has been left behind, And the future has not been reached.” And the hook is “Today the effort must be made; Tomorrow Death may come, who knows?.”64 This echoes the Mountain sutta: Death comes anyway unexpectedly, so do your best today.

This is used by the donors who make merit for their relatives or who make a wish for their merit’s fruits. Just making some resolute thoughts is enough. A passage can be said to reinforce the will either in Thai or Pali. The commonest passage for transferring merit is “idaṃ me ñātīnaṃ hotu, sukhitā hontu ñātayo,” which means “May this be for my relatives, may my relatives be happy”.65 (f) For transferring the merit and making a wish

Monks use this regularly in their daily chanting and when they consume the requisites. In the ceremony, it depends on the leading monks or the regular practice of the group. Sometimes they recite it out loud, sometimes they make the reflection individually in silence. (g) For reflection as monks use upon the food

(h) For blessing and making the donors rejoice in their givings as in the anumodanā The passages used every time in this step are

quite beautiful. They go like this:

Just as rivers full of water fill the ocean full, Even so does that here given benefit the dead [the hungry ghosts]. May whatever you wish or want quickly come to be, May all your aspirations be fulfilled, 63 Horner

1959, pp. 233–5; Ñāṇamoli and Bodhi 1995, pp. 1039–41 1039 65 Gombrich 1971b, p. 231 64 p.

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10.6. Ritual languages in merit-making as the moon on the fifteenth [full moon] day, or as a radiant, bright gem. May all distresses be averted, may every disease be destroyed, May there be no dangers for you, may you be happy and live long. For one of respectful nature who constantly honors the worthy, Four qualities increase: long life, beauty, happiness, strength.66

66 Dhammayut

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis Now we see what constitute merit-making structurally by breaking it down part by part. This can bring us a clearer picture what merit-making really looks like and how it works in surface level as a close observation can obtain. Here we will go deeper by applying the comprehensive model, shown in Chapter 7 and articulated in detail in the appendices, using what we have so far from previous sections. The model has six dimensions. Each dimension has its own criteria of analysis. To avoid being overwhelming, not all components will be put into focus. Only the elements relevant to the dimension discussed will be mentioned if they can make some sense.

11.1. Cognitive dimension The central focus of this dimension is the mind, which operates on individual level. A simple question for this analysis can be “What happen in human mind when people, monks included, participate in merit-making?”

11.1.1. Effects on consciousness Unlike rituals that highly focus on personal experiences, sun dance of North American Indians for example, merit-making has a very low effect on personal state of consciousness. No trance, altered states, or deep samādhi are ever produced in this ceremony. A reason can be that the ritual takes relatively a very short time, while sun dance takes days in self-torturing. And it is not a purpose of merit-making to make this kind of experience. Even though a light meditative state can be attained while monks are chanting, it is still in a normal mode of consciousness.

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11.1. Cognitive dimension Considering immediate mental states in performing merit-making, we can say that the ceremony can regulate people’s mind in some degree. It keeps people out of their daily anxiety for a while. From the traditional point of view or expectation, merit-making sets the wholesome state of consciousness. When people are giving, their mind are less irritable and have more compassion.

11.1.2. Effects on emotions Generally speaking, merit-making is a low arousal ritual, i.e., low sensory pageantry. The dominant tone of the whole ceremony is solemnness. This makes it quite boring, particularly to most children. In Harvey Whitehouse’s perspective, merit-making requires low arousal because it happens frequently. Or it has to happen frequently, because merit-making itself arouses very little (I am not sure which causation Whitehouse endorses, or it is just a correlation between the two). That is to say, merit-making mostly operates in doctrinal mode of religiosity (see Appendix A). To this simple explanation, I agree. Although, in a typical Buddhist house, the family regularly holds the ceremony once a year, some houses even rarer, people normally attend this kind of ritual here and there throughout the year. Moreover, on every Buddhist holy day, wan phra (วันพระ), normally four times a month, people go to a temple in their village to do merit-making. The ceremony therefore occurs frequently in this regard. Even though emotions are little aroused in merit-making, some emotions can be found as a side-effect of the ritual. For the families that hold merit-making regularly, their relatives and friends normally come together in this occasion. This brings joy to the families. In the solemn tone of religious ritual, people moderately talk and play with one another. Children also have fun in this situation because they meet their relatives and friends. They play together, and they have several things to eat. Even in memorial ceremonies for the deceased, the overall tone may be more solemn, but people seems to be pleased to meet their living kinfolks and friends rather than to lament to the departed. I think the form of the ritual which makes use of Buddhist teachings can regulate people emotions. In some cases, Buddhist rituals can console grieved participants and lessen their anxiety. That is to say, Buddhist rituals try to control or restrain, if not eliminate, sensory stimulation. This can make ritual theories

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis which concern with emotional arousal fall off the mark when considering Buddhist rituals. What determines frequency of the performance is not emotional level, or superhuman agents involved (more on this point below), but the complexity of the ceremony. If we can do something easily, we can do it frequently. But in a more difficult task, we tend to do it less often. This is my very simple theory on this issue. Merit-making is regularly performed because it is easy to do so. In an easier and less formal meritmaking like giving alms to monks in the morning, it can be done everyday. In a more meticulous ceremony, say, monk ordination, it naturally happens less often.

11.1.3. Effects on memory In Whitehouse’s account, ritual with low emotional arousal has low effect on memory as well. This poor effect on memory is compensated with its high frequency of occurrence. With my simple view and perspectives from other dimensions we shall see, Buddhist rituals do not concern with memory as such. Neither to produce a lasting impressive experience nor to register a lot of information into our head is the goal of Buddhist rituals. It is about a cultivation of certain habits. It is also true that there are many things to be learned and memorized, but it is just the form of actions that we need some regularity. Most monks nonetheless can remember a number of suttas, but some of them memorize wrongly and always chant wrongly. This can be normally found in the countryside where monks are not keen on Pali and some elderly monks are illiterate. Most ceremonial leaders can remember well on their part, but normal people mostly remember nothing except the sequence of the ceremony. They just know how to do things. They memorize the practice, so to speak.

11.1.4. Counterintuitive elements Since merit-making is a religious ritual which has a number of supernatural elements, counterintuitive components in this ritual are easy to see. They not only contradict our ontological expectations, but some of them contradict even to their own conceptual ground. Here are some of counterintuitive elements in merit-making.

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11.1. Cognitive dimension The Buddha is the most obvious one. His physical body and psychological mind were completely gone, and he has totally no self whatsoever to mentioned after that, according to Theravada tradition, yet his personality is still impressed in Buddhists’ consciousness. He has never gone. That is why the Buddha is still around everywhere in Buddhist world. He gains super-divine status with incomparable power. Yet, he is treated like a man: he eats like a man, accept gifts like a man, can bring a good consequence if treated well, and can bring a bad one if treated badly. I think regarding the Buddha as extinct is not counterintuitive in Boyer’s sense (or perhaps too much!). People need him in a tangible way. So, he is treated like a typical god which is counterintuitive enough. In McCauley and Lawson’s theory of ritual form (2002), this divine Buddha is fittingly seen as a culturally postulated superhuman (CPS) agent. This CPS-agent, according to their theory, determines how often ritual is performed, how long the effect lasts, and how intense emotions are aroused. If a direct contact with this CPS-agent is made, the ritual tend to be performed not often, has a lasting effect, and involves a strong emotion. I admit that I have problems with this theory, but I will talk about this later (see a discussion in Chapter 13). Another important point that covers a large area of conceptual space in merit-making is that personal identity persists after death. What we count as a person is mostly constructed, not a persistent entity. Our personality and identity are biologically, psychologically, and socially constructed. We relate to other with our body born into a social network. We are us because of our body, so to speak. How about the mind? I have a problem with this, so I leave it out. I do not deny the existence of mind, but it is a complicated issue. We can omit it in this regard, or treat it as inseparable from the body, as an orthodox Theravada view.1 Doctrinally speaking, if we undergo a new birth, we will be a new person and belong to a new social network. When people die, they take with them the old social relations (former relatives and friends), yet they have a new life of their own. If we have undergone countless births, according to the doctrine, we all have countless social networks. Everyone can be counted as a relative. Still, when Buddhists do a merit transference, they do only for 1 See

Buddhaghosa 2010, p. 618:XVIII§32; Nyanatiloka 1991, p. 103

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis the bodily related ones who in fact no longer exist. On one hand, Buddhists hold that there is a life after death. On the other hand, they treat the dead as if they have only one life which is akin to the life before they died. It is like the case of the Buddha mentioned previously. The dead persons are not really gone, they are around, eat like a human, and use things like a human. The last counterintuitive point I will mention here is that merit is regarded as a thing. Merit (puñña) generally means “the power of good actions as seeds for future happy fruits.”2 Merit is therefore a redundant notion which amounts to “good deeds yield good results.” But the concept of seeds reifies merit as a thing. When perceived as a thing, merit then can be generated, accumulated, and transferred. It is much like the concept of money or credit. I am not sure whether it is counterintuitive in the given sense, but it is a categorical mistake anyway (more about merit later).

11.2. Bodily dimension The bodily dimension involves how the human body is used in ritual. I focus on two aspects: body as the source of conceptual categorization, and the source of ritual efficacy. Accordingly, I propose two criteria for bodily analysis: physical metaphor and physical metonymy.

11.2.1. Bodily metaphor Bodily actions in merit-making are quite subtle, because the nature of the ritual tends to limit body activities, unlike those which heavily use the body, in dancing for example. People engaging in merit-making are supposed to stay still in a composed manner. However, there are some considerations that can make the point. First, the space arranged can demarcate the boundary between high and low moral spheres. A physical metaphor used here is high-low or up-down which signifies the dichotomy of goodbad, or better, near-far to the ideal. By this theme, monks and religion-related objects are set apart by raising them up over or putting them upon the area of non-religious things. 2 Harvey

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2013, p. 44; emphasis added

11.2. Bodily dimension In addition, the way people approach to religious things also conforms to the theme. When Buddhists bow down to pay homage to the Buddha and monks, they express their humbleness, remoteness from the ideal, toward the nearer ones. The dichotomy, I think, can be read as the powerful versus the powerless. Persons in religious domain are regarded as powerful, the Buddha as a paragon, and the laity are relatively powerless. This categorical dichotomy, marked by physical arrangement and gestures, constitutes the hierarchy of moral endowment, which is often (mis)taken as the hierarchy of power. Another subtler physical metaphor is a common body posture used throughout the ceremony, i.e., a composed sit. Monks are supposed to sit motionlessly during the ceremony, as well as all participants in a lesser extent. Restlessness is regarded as an ill manner reflecting a long distance to the ideal. The metaphor can be stillness-restlessness signifying the good-bad dichotomy, or near-far to the ideal. The tranquil body is desirable, because it can lead to the tranquil mind which is admittedly nearer to the ideal goal. There are other metaphors seen in the ceremony. For example, the Buddha in the ceremony is treated metaphorically. This role is significant to the efficacy of the ritual, because the Buddha is seen as an indispensable power source. For this kind of metaphors is unrelated directly to the body, it is a metaphor by virtue of a symbolic use which will be analyzed in communicative dimension below.

11.2.2. Bodily metonymy Metonymy, the use of a part to represent a whole, plays a key role in ritual efficacy. It corresponds to the contagious principle of magic (see Appendix B). It makes ritual palpable because it uses indexical symbols to signify that something really happens. I use Sørensen’s forward contagion and backward contagion (see Appendix B) as the criteria in this analysis. In forward contagion, the physical contact of two elements ensures a transfer of essence. And in backward contagion, once contacted the essence is linked permanently to the elements. (a) the use of white thread, (b) lustral water, (c) giving things to monks. Forward contagion analysis:

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis The use of white thread (siñcana) is an obvious case of forward contagion. This thread connects monks to the Buddha via his image. This connection makes the chanting effective in blessing the lustral water, as well as the house if the thread is tied around. In the ceremony for the dead, the thread is not used in chanting, but in robes taking by monks. The thread, in this case, is tied to the relics of the dead to ensure the connection. Monks take robes offered upon this thread as they take them from the dead (a metaphor can be seen here). When the chanting is done in blessing ceremony, the lustral water is then regarded as consecrated, thanks to the white thread (in fact what really makes the contact is the melting wax from the candle). At the very end of the ceremony this water will be sprinkled to the participants and the house. Contacting with this water is equal to receiving the blessing power (essence) directly. Sometimes the water is drunk, or used for a bath. Giving things to monks is not related to magical efficacy, but it can be seen as a forward contagion. The complete giving to monks, particularly edible things, is done by handing things into their hands. If the contact is not made, the giving is not done. So, the touch ensures the action. The touch, however, can have a medium like a cloth in case of monks receive things from women in Thai tradition. (a) relics of the dead, (b) consecrated water and thread, (c) touching things. Relics or remaining parts of the dead represent the whole persons. Ashes after the cremation of the dead is seen as the dead themselves, because they have the body essence of the dead. Things that look like the dead can be used to represent the dead, such as photos, portraits, sculptures. This iconic use is metaphorical, but it is also an index to the dead by which its contact can validate the connection. Things that belonged to the dead can be seen as having the dead’s essence. The personal belongings such as wearing and bedding clothes are sometimes burned after or together with the cremation. In Tambiah’s account, these articles among other things are for the dead to use in the afterlife.3 For other priced possessions, sometimes they are given to a temple, Backward contagion analysis:

3 Tambiah

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1968, p. 89

11.3. Communicative dimension not as a gift to monks, but to cleanse (reset) the ownership of those things. Relatives of the dead then buy them back later. The lustral water once consecrated is regarded as powerful since then. People usually keep it and use it later to expel evil things. By the same token, the white thread after chanting is regarded as consecrated. Some people have a part of it tying around their wrist to protect evil spirits. The thread which is tied around the house, after the ceremony ends, is usually left there in order to protect the house afterward. To the point of giving things to monks, once the things is touched, they are regarded as contagious. Food is a good example here. When food is given to monks, it belongs to monks by a contact as described above. If some layperson touches that food by its containers, accidentally or not, the giving is void. The food must be handed again. That is to say, once the contact is made, the connection stays. Moreover, the food left by monks is regarded as blessed. People usually eat the leftover for their good luck. This makes monks have their food in this situation very carefully to avoid spoiling the food with their eating gears.

11.3. Communicative dimension The central focus of this dimension is signs used in the ritual. I propose an analysis of three sign relations. According to Peirce’s theory of signs, there are three types of the relation between sign and what it stands for: iconic, indexical, and symbolic relation. Iconic relation uses similarity as its measure; idexical relation uses direct connection; and symbolic relation uses conventions. All these three relations are often mixed in real situations, but the most conspicuous function can be recognized as shown below.

11.3.1. Iconic relation (a) the Buddha with his image, (b) the dead with their photograph. The Buddha image is an apparent instance of icon, because in all forms the image has a look of the Buddha in some way, despite mere imagination. The statue is used to represent the Buddha, in one sense, metaphorically, and the other, indexically as we shall see. As the Buddha is more than the founder of Buddhism who Iconic relations:

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis had passed away and had nothing to do with his laid teachings, he gains the status of (super)god in Buddhist mentality. Therefore, the Buddha is always present in all Buddhist activities by his images as the head of all monks performing the ceremonies. Buddhists do the rituals as if the Buddha is there. They pay homage to him, offer food and gift to him, and ask him to bring about a fortune and protection by his power. The Buddha present in this context is more than a mere metaphor for recollection of the Beloved One. The notion of the Buddha here is an index to certain power. The picture of the deceased used in the ceremony also has an iconic relation. It represents the dead by virtue of its similarity, unlike ashes which have a pure indexical relation. But both forms can be used equally.

11.3.2. Indexical relation (a) the Buddha as a power source, (b) monks as a power generator, (c) Pali suttas as fuel, (d) white thread as a power line or a connector, (e) water as a power container. As mentioned above, the notion of the Buddha represented by his image is not just an icon or a metaphor, it is an index to miraculous power as Thais call buddhakun (พุทธคุณ), or buddhaguṇa in Pali. Practically, in the ceremony, the Buddha (image) is treated as a source of that power by virtue of its iconic relation. This power is regarded as real, but it is not active yet. When monks are chanting, they are activating the power. We can see the Pali passages and verses recited as the fuel that monks use to spin their dynamo. Pali words are generally regarded by Thai Buddhists as having miraculous power, but when they are used in a proper manner, in yantras or incantation for example. The same Pali words in a Pali textbook are not regarded as such. The white thread used in chanting can be seen as a power line that links between the source (the Buddha) and the targets (water in the bowl, the house). The thread is used metaphorical at first, but by the contagion principle it becomes an index to the power it conducts. When the thread touches with the power, it also becomes charged with that power. The lustral water is a power cell in this regard. When charged by the chanting process, the water is filled with power, so it can be used to ward off bad spirits and to bring luck. Indexical relations:

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11.3. Communicative dimension

11.3.3. Symbolic relation (a) food as the main offering, (b) robes as rags or shrouds, (c) candles, incenses, and flowers, (d) water as a transferring tool, (e) name as person. Symbolic relations:

I see food offering in merit-making as a symbol, because its main purpose is to fulfill the conventional practice, not to feed monks. Of course, monks get several good things to eat, and they get full and satiated. However, people do not care whether monks are hungry or really need to eat something or not. They just want monks to eat their offerings. In one Songkran festival (around mid April), I used to perform three ceremonies (of both kinds) in three houses on a single halfday. So, we monks ate in the morning, ate again 2 hour later, and ate again before noon. That is to say, food offering is a symbol of a requisite offering, which is essential, hence assuredly fruitful. By the same reason, robes offering is also a symbol of a requisite offering. People are not concerned that most monks already have enough robes to use. They just want to offer them. This can be true with other gifts as well, but the other gifts are somehow useful in certain situations, for monks can give them away to those who are needy. Robes offered to monks have a double relations here. On one hand, they are a symbolic offering as mentioned above. On the other hand, they are used metaphorically as rags or shrouds. In the ceremony for the dead, monks take the robes by pulling them from the dead’s body which is represented by the photo or relics and connected via the white thread. This action is believed to have a good effect on the departed, but I find no confirmation from the canon. Candles, incenses, and flowers have their symbolic meaning in Thai context. Candles, used in worshiping the Dhamma, mean enlightenment or wisdom (some say two candles represent the Dhamma and the Vinaya). Three incense sticks, for the Buddha, represent his wisdom, purity, and compassion. And flowers, for the Sangha, stand for the beauty of the order and their fragrance of morality. Water used when people transfer merit to the dead can be seen as a symbol, because there is no similarity or connection related

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis to the water. G. P. Malalasekera also sees this as symbolic.4 This practice may come from other tradition. But it is quite useful. I think in terms of a materialization of the action. When we deal with an intangible thing, it is better to make it concrete. A good part of using water in this situation is that people can better concentrate on whom the merit is transferred to. However, some Thais believe that without this water the merit cannot be transferred successfully. In the case that no any relic or photo available to represent the dead, the name of them is applicable. So, names can represent persons. This is a purely symbolic use. Sometimes names of the dead are written in a paper and burned into ash, before water is poured into it in the merit-transferring step.

11.4. Performative dimension In this dimension, the central focus is on actions, what meritmaking does other than conveys some symbolic meanings which we have already considered in the previous section. There are two criteria I select here: exhibiting level (How obvious does meritmaking display?), and performativity analysis (What do the actions in merit-making really do performatively?, as well as what are the intended effects of the actions?).

11.4.1. Exhibiting level Generally speaking, merit-making ritual needs to be obvious, because it is an interaction between two parties: monks and the household. Sometimes the interaction is among three: monks, hosts, and guests. Nothing is hidden in a covert manner in meritmaking. The main reason is that the ceremony operates mostly in religious ground, which has certain direction to be followed. In most cases, a ceremonial expert, usually an ex-monk, is needed to lead the activities. In a small ceremony, the direction is sometimes guided by monks. But it is quite ill-formed, because people must make a request by themselves, not by a guidance of monks, which is regarded as a wrong asking for monks. However, monks 4 Malalasekera

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1967, p. 87

11.4. Performative dimension normally advice the household to do things in a good format, conforming to the tradition. As merit-making is not a pure religious activity, it also has a magical components which are supposed to bring magical effects, although they had been superseded by religious elements. The efficacy of the magical outcome depends mostly on form, i.e., doing it in a right way. Monks normally have authority to sanction the form. Sometimes it is not enough, because in certain situation the ceremony has to be approved by traditional authorities, like the elders of the community, as well. This makes merit-making have to be exposed to the public. In merit-making for the dead, magical results are not the main concern, but well-formed actions that guarantee benefits of the dead are more important. An agreement from authorities, monks or the elders or both, is therefore essential to the performance. Guests play a role of eyewitnesses in this regard to affirm the correctness of the ritual. That is to say, merit-making is effective when the prescribed procedure is done properly. What makes it proper is the sanction from authorities and the community. To exhibit is to make it valid, so to speak. P. A. Payutto, a revered Thai scholar monk, sees the exhibiting nature of ritual in a different way. In a talk in 1994, he said ritual opens an opportunity to monks in appearance before the public so that they can deliver the Dhamma, or give dhammadāna to people.5 Even if monks are not capable of delivering dhamma talks, just their composed appearance can draw faith or confidence from the public into the religion. Seeing merit-making like a stage in this way can make monks behave carefully just before the public to show their monk-ness. They so look more like an actor, or an advertising presenter. Monks are supposed to be unruffled all the time, not just before people’s eyes. However, this stage can be seen as a training course for monks to behave as such. I think what the Venerable Payutto has in mind is that public ritual like merit-making should be a stage for monks to do their teaching duty, not just a magical performer. His view is seemingly fused with a normative concern. Charles Keyes has another view on this exhibiting aspect of merit-making, unintendedly as it might be. He puts it this way, “merit is also valued for the quality of virtue that a person ac5 Payutto

2008b, p. 13

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis quires in the eyes of others through his or her acts of meritmaking.”6 That is to say, when people are perceived as a meritmaker, they gain the “social recognition of being a person of virtue.”7 Those who possess this quality have “enhanced efficacy in social action.”8 They are trustworthy in the eyes of others and have more influence in the community than those who do not engage in merit-making. This influence can be seen as khun (คุณ), or guṇa in Pali, which Neils Mulder uses for moral goodness9 —the complement of power (decha). This means merit-making can increase personal value in terms of social capital (see Appendix F and below) by its exhibiting aspect.

11.4.2. Performativity analysis This analysis is adapted from performativity in linguistics. We are going to find out what are those forces and effects produced by merit-making ceremony. I choose only three kinds of illocutionary acts to be analyzed here, because I find them clearly applicable to merit-making. Other kinds of illocutionary acts described in Appendix D may be suitable for other kinds of ritual. So, my selection is by no means a methodological suggestion, it just looks comprehensible. My selection is: (a) Declaratives, information or knowledge posited by merit-making; (b) Directives, directions dictated by merit-making; and (c) Acknowledgments. The analyses are done together with their intended effects (perlocutionary acts), and the results are shown by propositions (locutions) in Table 11.1.

6 Keyes

1983b, p. 268 268 8 p. 268 9 Mulder 1996, p. 49 7 p.

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11.4. Performative dimension Table 11.1.: Result of performativity analysis Propositions

Intended effects

Declaratives He should be treated with respect and credibility. What he said are therefore undoubtedly true. Consequently, the Pali canon People should hold what are are reliable and supposedly written in the canon is true. mostly true because they came directly from the Buddha. Merit can bring desirable People should give away outcomes and can be gained their possessions to make by giving. merit. Monks are the most The giving should be done appropriate recipient that to monks, and the best bring fruitful results, things should be given for particularly as a group. the best results. Monks have a higher moral Monks should be treated status. with respect. If donors are morally pure, The donors should have results of the giving will be morality before they give. unblemished. Morality can be acquired by People recite the five saying it. precepts before giving. Pali words have magical Chanting parittas is power when being chanted. expected in merit-making for blessing. The deceased are around Merit should be transferred somewhere, supposedly in to them to alleviate their suffering. suffering. The Buddha was the greatest man on earth.

Directives At least four monks can Five or more monks will be form a quorum of a sangha. invited to do the ceremony, for a fourfold monks is seen as death-related. Continued on the next page…

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis Table 11.1: Result of performativity analysis (contd…) Propositions

Intended effects

Monks eat only what are given by hand within arm’s length.

Food have to be handed to monks properly.

Acknowledgments Monks eat the food and The offerings are valid and accept the gifts offered. complete, so the results are guaranteed. Monks acknowledge the People are ensured that they overall ceremony by are blessed and protected, anumodanā. the departed get the merit transferred, and the overall ceremony is fruitful. Guests see all what happen The ceremony is done and have no objection. properly, hence fruitful.

From the analysis above, we can see the nature of Buddhist ritual which is related to the householder, merit-making in this case. The most performatives used in the ceremony are constatives, to assert certain information. I use declaratives in the sense that the information given or implied corresponds to the reality of the world. It is not just an assertion of someone’s beliefs. It is the statement of truth. Other kinds of performatives are somewhat trivial. There is no compulsory order imposed on the lay donors. They can freely choose to do things or not. In some occasions, I find some male guests skip the fifth precept, because they know they will be drunk anyway soon, or already have been drunk in some cases. Most constraints are on the monks’ side, for they have to follow the Vinaya. I do not found commissives, like making a promise, in merit-making. I think because no one can guarantee anything. Everything goes by its causes. Nothing has to be promised. On the part of monks, they can do only acknowledge the actions and make the donors rejoice in their givings. To most people, this may sound like a warranty anyway. However, in other form of ritual, say, ordination or wedding, these missing or minor performatives can be more prominent.

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11.5. Discursive dimension

11.5. Discursive dimension This section can be called ritual discourse analysis. Some part of this analysis is done in a reductive way in the previous section as performativity analysis. Now we will get a more holistic picture. I use three criteria proposed by Norman Fairclough here, namely (a) social identities, (b) social relations, and (c) system of knowledge and belief.10 For comprehensibility, I combine social identities and relations to be analyzed together, because the one implies the other. And system of knowledge should be analyzed first, because it lays the ground of other entities. In this dimension, as the heart of the whole model, we shall see Buddhist discourses in action. The concept of discourse used in this section is a technical one described at length in Appendix E.

11.5.1. Analysis of system of knowledge In merit-making, there is knowledge established as a system. Some fragmented parts of it can be seen in the performativity analysis above. Here I will present them in a more integrated way; not every minor point will be addressed though. (a) The Pali canon as the statements of truth

This is a discourse we must address first, because it lays the ground of all reality in the Buddhist universe, including meritmaking. However, in an interesting way, merit-making does not follow everything said in the canon. It forms its own discourse by using the Pali canon as an authoritative source in combinations with local practice, social struggle, and economic pressure. The issue related to merit-making will be tackled exclusively in the subsequent part. Now we look at the Pali canon first. How reliable is the Pali canon? This is one of the hottest issue in Buddhist studies all the time. The problem is quite old, perhaps from the very end of the Buddha’s life. I do not want, and it is not necessary to me, to get involved in the argument to find a plausible answer. My approach to this problem is totally different to other scholars in the field, because the real problem is not about reliability. It is all about discourses or “who said so.” And, to my mind, the task of the compilers of the canon is 10 Fairclough

1993, p. 134

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis not how to select reliable sources, but how to make them sound reliable. The earliest stratum of Pali literature, as called by L. S. Cousins, consists of the Vinaya texts (excluding the Parivāna), the first four Nikāyas, and the Sutta-nipāta.11 The first four Nikāyas, which have Chinese-Āgama parallels, are the long (Dīgha) discourses, the middle-length (Majjhima) discourses, the grouped (Saṃyutta) collection, and the numbered (Aṅguttara) collection.12 Gombrich finds this central part of the canon “presents such originality, intelligence, grandeur and – most relevantly – coherence, that it is hard to see it as a composite work”.13 Gombrich takes another stance elsewhere, as I mentioned earlier, by admitting that the Buddha probably used inconsistent mode of teaching fittingly to his audience, and the later compilers ironed out the inconsistencies to make the whole work coherent.14 By these accounts, we can say that the Pali canon has considerable consistency, but attributing all of it to the Buddha himself sounds overstated. It is likely that later traditions make the Pali canon coherent as we see it today. Cousins makes an interesting remark on this, so I quote it in full. What is envisaged for sutta is not then a set body of literature, but rather a traditional pattern of teaching. Authenticity lies not in historical truth although this is not doubted, but rather in whether something can accord with the essential structure of the dhamma as a whole. If it cannot, it should be rejected. If it can, then it is to be accepted as the utterance of the Buddha. We may compare from the later commentarial tradition: “Whosoever … might teach and proclaim the dhamma, all of that is accounted as actually taught and proclaimed by the Teacher.”15 Hence, the Buddha and the traditions are inseparable. The Buddha, as we know him by various Buddhist traditions, is a very product of that traditions. The Buddha is constructed by 11 Cousins

1984, p. 56 1998, pp. 43–4 13 Gombrich 2006b, p. 21 14 See Gombrich 2006a, pp. 11-2, p. 19 15 Cousins 1983, p. 3 12 Gethin

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11.5. Discursive dimension traditional discourses, to use that terminology. To find out that the Buddha is the very source of the Pali canon is therefore a futile undertaking. By this position, I thus accept Steven Collins’s view that the Pali canon does not pre-exist Theravada school, but rather a product of that school, “as part of a strategy of legitimation by the monks of the Mahāvihāra lineage in Ceylon in the early centuries of the first millenium A.D.”16 The problem worth considering then is how reliable the tradition preserves the original teachings. From the insider point of view, as told by the canon itself, oral transmission is mostly reliable. As explained by P. A. Payutto, the result of the First Council (Rehearsal) was treated as settled and final, then groups of monks preserved the teachings by reciting them “as accurately, purely and completely as possible—in short, pristinely and perfectly.”17 I have no problem with human capacity to remember a huge number of recitation. Some can do that perfectly as we see in Myanmar nowadays. But I think it needs a rigorous training to do so, and not everyone can do that. In the former time, I doubt that monks, instead of meditating, systematically spent their time in memorizing a vast amount of texts. Having the nature of impermanence in mind, monks knew that they could not maintain the tradition in the long run. As noted by Cousins, the true Dhamma “will eventually decline and finally disappear, to await rediscovery by a future Buddha.”18 I think this is a more accurate account. Monks tended to keep what is useful, and handed them down as much as possible, not as perfectly as told. Paul Williams tells us that each early Buddhist monk probably memorized only one or two suttas, sometimes as a guide to meditation. Buddhist texts therefore were “no more than mnemonic devices, scaffolding, the framework for textual exposition by a teacher in terms of his own experience and also the tradition.”19 This means that the texts are likely to be unstable, because they can be recursively supplemented with teachers’ experience along 16 Collins

1990, p. 89 2004, p. 19 18 Cousins 1983, p. 3 19 Williams 2009, p. 45, emphasis added 17 Payutto

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis the line of transmission, and they are likely to be seamlessly blended. Taking human cognition into consideration can also bring us some insight on this issue. The problematic period is not after the canon get settled, but before that. It is the period of free transmission or improvisation20 , which is better called the phase of hearsay. As we have learned from cognitive psychology, our understanding and memory are constructed, and what we remember are not the exact words we hear but the meaning we reproduce upon our pre-existing understanding (pre-structures of understanding in Heidegger’s sense or prejudices in Gadamer’s sense, see Appendix E). What we remember is the pre-judged understanding of our own. Then the crucial problem comes: How anyone who heard the Buddha said can understand him rightly?, or can capture his words literally? I do not doubt that the listeners can understand the Buddha and get some understanding. It can happen in immediate situations, but it is less likely in the multiple-handed transmission. Thinking of a game of Chinese whispers can make the point clearer. How did the Venerable Ānanda, who was not an arhat at the time he attended the Buddha, understand what the Buddha said and retain all the words by his own terms? Let us consider this scenario: At one occasion, the Buddha delivers a sermon to a group of followers. Does each of the audience understand and remember the same thing? Even some of them can make a spiritual breakthrough, do they get the same message and remember it identically? By the best knowledge of human cognition nowadays, it sounds unlikely that what we have is original. The Pali canon is more likely multiple layers of constructions upon constructions by generations after generations. In the mind of the preservers of the traditions, memory is like a recorder, and meaning is simply delivered. That is an inaccurate picture of human cognition. By this account, any attempt to show that the Pali canon is original is therefore futile in my view. How we deal with this consequence is a more pressing issue. Now I will illustrate my point by drawing a sutta into account. There is a sutta named Abhibhū in Aṅguttara Nikāya, the book of the threes.21 It is from the most reliable part of the canon as 20 For

a detailed treatment see Wynne 2004 2012, pp. 313–4:§80; Woodward 1932, pp. 206–8:§80; AN I 227.

21 Bodhi

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11.5. Discursive dimension mentioned above. The story goes like this. As heard that Abhibhū, a disciple of the former Buddha Sikhī, can convey his voice throughout a thousandfold world system, the Venerable Ānanda approaches the Buddha and asks how far he can make it likewise. The Buddha answers ‘immeasurable’ succinctly at first. After being implored three times, he expounds a thousandfold minor world system. Each world system has the same structure: a sun, a moon, a central mountain (Sineru/Sumeru), four continents in four side of the mountain, four great oceans, and multi-level heavens. To a thousand times of a thousand times of that world system, it is a great world system. The Buddha, as far as he wants, can convey his voice throughout that great world system. The sutta has no moral implication whatsoever, as far as I can decode it. It just says how great the Buddha is. How do we deal with this instance? By our best knowledge of cosmology nowadays, we can say that the model described in the sutta is an imagination, perhaps in a combination with the best geographical knowledge at the time rooted in the Vedas. It is a flat-world system with a huge mountain at the center.22 Bhikkhu Bodhi notes that the way the sutta depicts the Buddha might “mark a major step toward the apotheosis of the Buddha.”23 It looks more like a Mahayana sutra, so to speak. If we treat the sutta as original, we encounter the problem that the Buddha really has a limited view of the world. He is not omniscient as many Buddhists hold. It is not just this instance that shows incoherence between the physical reality as described by the Buddha and as described by modern science. They are numerous in the canon, as well as in the commentaries. Some insist that science cannot go that far to prove or disprove the Buddha’s insight of the world. To my objectivity, I tend to hold that Higgs boson does exist even if it looks fanciful to most people, because the Higgs and its process of discovery are explainable, albeit it is very hard, and impossible for some, to understand.24 Whereas to the account of the Buddhist flat-world cosmology, I am likely to regard In the Chaṭṭha Saṅgāyana collection, it is Aṅ Ti 8.81,Cūḷanikāsutta. 22 p. 207n; see more detail in Buddhaghosa 2010, pp. 199–201:VII§40–5; Gogerly 1908, p. 19ff 23 Bodhi 2012, p. 1662 24 For a readable book about the Higgs, see Baggott 2012.

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis it as a mere imagination. We can also see it as an allegory or a metaphor. Or it represents the world in terms of phenomenological experiences. Or we can straightforwardly see it as an aberration, because Alexander Wynne notes that the Buddha “offered no picture of the world.”25 We can take any stance to fit our preference. No account is more real than others. We just choose a discourse we like, but some discourse is more convincing to someone. No matter how peculiar the sutta looks, from the traditional point of view it is unlikely to be ruled out for that reason. It is kept in the canon, waiting to be commented, argued, used, or abused. I think this is the way the traditions deals with oddities in the scriptures. My point is that the Pali canon is suitably regarded as a repository of teaching materials. By selecting some suttas, rendering them in some way, making some discourses out of them, and materializing them in a culture, a world of Buddhism comes to life. And the discourse of merit-making uses this kind of sutta in a considerable way, to assert the superhuman status of the Buddha, to establish a cosmological idea that makes sense to merit-making, for instance. To pave the way for that position, the Pali canon must be established as the statements of truth, the unmediated records of the historical events. I do not mean that the Pali canon does not reflect some truth, we can find some anyway. Rather I see the construction model of the canon is more accurate than the recorder model. Every sutta has its author who is definitely not the Buddha. Suttas are not historical logs. It is worth noting that ‘true’ is not the same as ‘useful.’ In my view, the Pali canon is useful, because it establishes what is true. And that is the first taken-for-granted element of all Theravada Buddhist cultures. That is a discourse which merit-making mainly relies on, and the ritual legitimize its reality in turn. (b) Merit as the Buddhist spiritual currency

Merit is a general translation of Pali puñña. Its Sanskrit root may be puṣ, “to thrive, flourish, prosper,” or pū, “to make clean or clear or pure or bright.”26 The commentators of the Pali canon 25 Wynne

26 Harvey

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2015, p. 29 2013, p. 44

11.5. Discursive dimension therefore define merit as “that which purges and purifies the mental continuum.”27 By this account, merit is not a ‘thing’ to have, but rather the process or action that purifies one’s mind. When the mind is made pure, Buddhists regard it as an achievement or success in terms of the Dhamma. Originally, merit can be obtained by the three bases of action (puññakiriyā-vatthu), namely (a) giving, (b) moral behavior, and (c) mental development.28 Giving can lessen our attachment to material properties. Morality makes us control our body not to do harm to others and ourselves. And developing mental capacity to penetrate all illusions is essential to attain the ultimate goal. Doing all these three actions, one can achieve the Buddhist destination, hence ‘having’ merit. By this view, merit can be seen as the proximity to the ideal. We can say “I have less merit” to mean “I am still far from the goal—my mind is still contaminated,” or “You have more merit” to mean “You are nearer to the goal—your mind is more wholesome.” Thus, merit is not a thing we possess, but actions we have to accomplish by ourselves. Shwe Zan Aung and Rhys Davids see merit in a more subjective way, but still in line with the original discourse. Merit (puñña) is an abstract notion or human estimate of the balance of anyone’s chances of a surplus over unhappy experience in the future in consequence of deeds done now. Thus, for both estimator and the subject of the estimate, it is nothing else than a series of mental phenomena, and should be considered as such, and not as some external and mystic entity or continuum.29 There is a stanza in the Dhammapada that many Thai monks and novices are familiar with because they have to remember it for an examination, and it also makes a good rhyme. It is read “suddhi asudhi paccattaṃ, nāñño aññaṃ visodhaye.” Rhys Davids renders it as “the pure, the impure, this is of the self; one man cannot another purify.”30 Simply put, if merit help us to purify 27 Bodhi

1995 2008a, p. 93:§88 [ป. อ. ปยุตฺโต, พจนานุกรมพุทธศาสตร์ ฉบับประมวลธรรม]; see also Walshe 1995, p. 485:§38 29 Shwe Zan Aung and Rhys Davids 1915, p. 201n 30 C. A. F. Rhys Davids 1931, pp. 58–9:§165 28 Payutto

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis ourselves, we have to do it only by ourselves, no one else can do the job for us. The verse appears again in Kathāvatthu (a part of the Abhidhamma) to assert the orthodox position that no one can control or help another’s mind.31 To internalize such a view, the Buddha suggests everyone to frequently reflect upon this theme: “I am the owner of my kamma, the heir of my kamma; I have kamma as my origin, kamma as my relative, kamma as my resort; I will be the heir of whatever kamma, good or bad, that I do.”32 By this canonical evidence, the discourse of merit as one’s own action is well attested. Yet, Tirokuḍḍa Sutta, the sutta monks used in anumodanā for memorial services, affirms that the offering given to the Sangha now serves for the (departed) kinfolk’s welfare.33 That is to say, the merit obtained from giving things to monks goes to the dead relatives as well. However, in Aṅguttara Nikāya, the Buddha said only a birth as ‘afflicted spirits’ (pretas) that the dead can receive benefits of the giving, not as humans, devas, animals, or hell dwellers.34 The availability of the recipient is in fact limited, according to this sutta. But practically this limitation is not taken seriously by Buddhists, particularly by modern Thais who transfer merit to all beings even the living ones. In general, the practice of merit transference prevails by the commentators of the long discourses (Sumaṅgalavilāsinī) who added up seven bases of meritorious actions to the former three making them ten in all: (d) humility or reverence, (e) rendering services, (f) sharing or giving out merit, (g) rejoicing in others’ merit, (h) listening to the Doctrine or right teaching, (i) teaching the Doctrine or showing truth, and (j) straightening one’s views or forming correct views.35 The relevant items here are (f) and (g). But, I think, rejoicing (anumodanā) in others’ merit is still in line with the original discourse. Like sympathetic joy (muditā), seeing others’ progress in practice with delight can develop one’s mind, or make one’s mind progressed likewise. Gombrich nonetheless sees this practice as unoriginal, but his point is different from 31 Shwe

Zan Aung and Rhys Davids 1915, pp. 303–4:XVI§1–2 2012, p. 686:§57; AN III 72 33 C. A. F. Rhys Davids 1931, pp. 150–3:§7; Dhammayut Order in the USA 2013, p. 171 34 Bodhi 2012, p. 1524:V§269–73; AN V 270 35 Payutto 2008a, pp. 93–4:§89; Nyanatiloka 1991, p. 146 32 Bodhi

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11.5. Discursive dimension mine.36 Sharing or giving out (pattidāna) merit is obviously at odds with the former discourse, because the meaning of merit is transformed from actions that individuals have to do by themselves, or experiential balance in Shwe Zan Aung and Rhys Davids’s view, to a thing that can be given to someone else or credit-like score with a more tangible balance. The development of the idea might undergo some tension, as shown by McDermott (1974), but the innovation won nonetheless. The view is really common in Buddhist awareness as G. P. Malalasekera wrote: “Every good deed produces ‘merit’ which accumulates to the ‘credit’ of the doer.”37 Malalasekera explains pattidāna obviously in this sense: “gift given for the benefit of someone else,” or more particularly, “transference of merit that has been acquired.”38 A marked peculiar aspect of this meritcredit is that it will never decrease when giving out, simply because giving merit to someone is also a good deed, so merit will always increase. Milindapañhā endorses this view, “the more he gave it away the more would his goodness grow.”39 Apart from transferring merit to the dead, ordination ritual is another occasion that the transference of merit plays a significant role in Thailand. Merit earned from a monk’s ordination is rated as high, and the monk’s parents will also earn the merit in a considerable amount.40 Richard Gombrich sees this development of merit at odds with the doctrine of karma and he use an analogy of “spiritual bank account from which one can make payments to others” as the reification of one’s goodness into merit41 , a transferable substance. Wendy O’Flaherty calls this ‘hydraulic analogy.’42 Charles Keyes likewise uses ‘spiritual insurance’ analogy.43 But for him, unlike Gombrich, it is merit-transference that makes the doctrine of 36 See

Gombrich 1971a, pp. 205–6, but p. 215 1967, p. 85 38 p. 85 39 T. W. Rhys Davids 1894, p. 156 40 See the table in Tambiah 1968, p. 68 and Tambiah 1970, p. 147. Since ordination ritual is outside my scope, a detailed treatment on this issue see John Clifford Holt 2017, Chapter 3. 41 Gombrich 1971a, p. 204 42 O’Flaherty 1980, p. 14 43 Keyes 1983b, p. 267 37 Malalasekera

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis karma meaningful (p. 271, 284).44 The use of metaphor in this regard is interesting by its own right. In fact the use is really old. In Milindapañhā, karma is depicted as money used to buy things in the Buddha’s “bazaar of flowers.” Kammamūlaṃ gahetvāna, āpaṇaṃ upagacchatha; Ārammaṇaṃ kiṇitvāna, tato muccatha muttiya Take with you Karma as the price, And go ye up to that bazaar, Buy there an object for your thought, Emancipate yourselves. Be free!45 The verse implies that nirvana can be bought with karma.46 This can be seen as evidence showing that how metaphor can significantly shape our thinking. It has been done for a long time. In that instance, even “the city of Nirvāna” (nibbānanagaraṃ) is used. However, the notion of money is not a precise metaphor, because merit increases when given out, unlike money. But, the metaphor is suitable in a practical way, so I follow this analogy and see it as a capital (see below). Taking the notion of discourse into consideration, we can see that in merit-making there are two competing discourses as described so far. James Egge calls these (a) purificatory and sacrificial discourse, and (b) karmic discourse. The former discourse is earlier and replaced by the latter as “the standard idiom for expression of Buddhist teachings.”47 In the terms of merit described above, the first discourse is in line with merit as actions to develop oneself, and the second merit as goodness credit. However, I think, the original discourse is not superseded completely, it can dominate in a period of time, in some cultures or subcultures. Moreover, both views are equally legitimate as Buddhist practice and can coexist in the same time and place as an alternative or complement to each other. Spiro’s distinction between nibbanic and kammatic Buddhism48 can illustrate this point. 44 Keyes

1983b, p. 271, 284 W. Rhys Davids 1894, p. 213, emphasis added 46 See McDermott 1973 47 Egge 2013, p. 9 48 Spiro 1982 45 T.

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11.5. Discursive dimension The two different soteriological goals described by Egge, (a) to attain nirvana, and (b) to get a good rebirth in the heavens or on earth49 , clearly echoes Spiro’s model. Egge raises the question that whether Buddhist practice has two paths (for monks and laypeople) or one path with degree of achievement (nirvana is the only legitimate goal). From textual evidence, each view has its support. In Thailand, the one-path model is legitimate as the public discourse, but attaining nirvana is depicted as an extremely difficult task, if not impossible to be achieved in this life. The sure thing we can do now, to make nirvana less far, is the accumulation of merit. And merit is by and large perceived as credit in Thai culture. The more difficult activity undertaken, the more merit obtained. Meditation has the highest score of merit, higher than behavioral control, and donation respectively. Spiro would say “that is what I call kammatic Buddhism.” I have no excuse of that, but in our public expression we really perceive it as only one goal. People may individually postpone it, or ignore it, but nirvana will be never portrayed as worthless (more about this topic below). The development of the concept of merit and its transferable aspect has some implication, notably pointed by Gombrich. Merit, as a result of good karma, originally is a personal property because only an individual has volition and the Buddha said, “It is volition, bhikkhus, that I call kamma.”50 When merit becomes reified as transferable commodity, it appears “as the common property of a social group, so that [transference] is functional for kinship solidarity.”51 Gombrich also points to the psychological dimension of merit transference. He sees the original doctrine of karma, which can solve the problem of evil intellectually, but it is “too perfect for emotional comfort.”52 Making merit transferable can also make a possibility to improve one’s karma after death. This can soothe anxiety of most Buddhists. To the social function of merit transference, it can be said that, according to Gombrich, the doctrine of bodhisattva, “is built on Transfer of Merit.”53 Heinz Bechert 49 Egge

2013, p. 1 2012, p. 963:§5; AN III 415 51 Gombrich 1971a, p. 219 52 p. 219 53 Gombrich 2009, p. 199; but not in Gombrich 1971a 50 Bodhi

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis seems to see in the opposite direction.54 To my second thought, if rejoicing (anumōdanā) in others’ merit can be seen as sympathetic joy (muditā), giving out merit can also be seen as a practice or an expression of loving-kindness (mettā) and compassion (karuṇā). We share our merit with the departed because we want them to be happy and have less suffering. This view is normally accepted by Buddhist scholars, such as Malalasekera, and Peter Harvey.55 In this way of thinking, the transference of merit is not necessary incoherent with the original discourse, because the very result of the action is the development of one’s own mind. However, merit is also underplayed as a mere symbol, and its metaphysical basis is faded to be just a strategic tool (upāya). That is to say, the real world of Buddhism is a practical world. Coherence or good logic does not matter much, because practice is far more important. (c) Merit-making strengthens the belief in personhood and its continuity

The last point I draw into our consideration is a consequence of merit transference or merit-making as a whole. It is the discourse of karma and rebirth, which inevitably, or slipperily, posits a soullike entity. Some may see this as a cause of merit-making, but I see it as a product. This is a troublesome topic that can draw a large number of controversies. So, I will address the issue just enough to illustrate my point. To the very point, the hallmark of Buddhism, as known by everyone, is the doctrine of non-self or non-substantiality (anattā). There is no such thing as the personal substratum. This view is in line with modern science that sees a person as a biological, psychological, and social construction. Nothing underlies beneath the cover of appearance. The doctrine of the five aggregates (khandhas) fittingly corresponds with this reductionist view. By this very Buddhist view, rebirth is impossible at the first place, for there is no one who ever gets born and dies. Rebirth is just a conceptual construction, so is the personhood. If a person is real/useful in a conventional sense, its rebirth can be real/useful 54 Bechert

1992

55 Malalasekera

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1967, p. 86; Harvey 2013, p. 46

11.5. Discursive dimension as a convention as well, but not in the ontologically ultimate sense—rebirth of a postulated person is just a postulation. Nevertheless, the traditional explanation does not accept this transparent view, and dependent origination (paṭiccasamuppāda) is drawn as the complementary explanation showing that rebirth can happen without any personal substance.56 If we already have the concept of rebirth in mind, we will see the causation in that way (the wheel covers three lives). But we can also see the wheel in every moment when we undergo a suffering. By this later view, the notion of rebirth is simply irrelevant, because there is no person in the first go, just suffering and its extinction. But this simple and straightforward account is oblivious to most Buddhists. It is “too perfect for emotional comfort,” to use Gombrich’s phrase (see above). People still need rebirth to accommodate their emotions. And merit-making, a crucial activity of monastic communities, is a pressing cause of this need. It is necessary to postulate a person beyond a mere construction, for the giving will be felt worthwhile. Many may protest that if there is no rebirth, the law of karma turns pointless. Why should we do good things then? This is a confusion. We can do good things without any metaphysical postulation. Morality and ontology can be treated separately. Kantian de-ontology can give us a parallel picture. We can adopt Buddhist moral system, or practical guideline, without having a conviction of any metaphysical idea. This is, I think, what the Buddha really tried to teach people. His only essential message, in my view, is just “Stay mindful.” And any philosophical explanation is “an unintended consequence of the Buddha’s preaching.”57 This view may be seen as a modern approach to Buddhism which tries to naturalize it (e.g., Flanagan 2011) or focus only on the existential concern in the religion (e.g., Batchelor 1997). However, I also believe that the Buddha himself really held rebirth as an objectively truth, not because he knew it beyond time and space (I reject the Buddha’s omniscience on this point, as shown by several instances that he did not know better than modern scientists do), but rather he could not think otherwise for it is very logical at the time. Nirvana for him therefore is simply explained as no further rebirth. My position is highly contentious, 56 Anālayo

2018, pp. 44–5 2006a, p. 31

57 Gombrich

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis but I have no space to expound in full length. The most recent authoritative treatment on this issue is done by Bhikkhu Anālayo (2018). He shows undeniable evidence that the Buddha really taught rebirth (I accept this). Debates on this topic are taken into account from the former time to the contemporary (not exhaustive and conclusive enough, in my view). He also shows evidence supportive to the issue, including near-death experience, past-life regression, memories of the past life, and xenoglossy. Furthermore, he analyzes a case of Pali xenoglossy which a young child can chant some Pali suttas without learning them. Unsurprisingly, the overall implication of the study supports the traditional view. As far as I know, all evidence thought to be supportive to rebirth is highly controversial, and no single case has ever passed a rigorous scientific test. However, empirical proof of this kind of problem is hard to come by with a definite result and we can interpret in various ways. To me, the problem of this issue cannot be solved with any scientific way, because it is conceptually incoherent from the beginning—no falsification can be done. I suggest to serious practitioners that it is better not to take rebirth seriously. Interestingly, Ven. Anālayo himself does not admit firmly that he really believes in rebirth or not. He puts it this way: “Although I do not depend on the results of the present research to confirm my personal beliefs, as a Buddhist monastic I am clearly sympathetic to the idea of rebirth.”58 Reading between the lines with sympathy, I conclude that it does not matter much whether rebirth is real or not, because it has little effect on our wholesome living here and now. I should leave this uneasy issue here. Nevertheless, I maintain that people do not concern much about this kind of metaphysical conundrum, they take it for granted and care more about how to act properly, and ontological account serves them as post hoc rationalization that is far from any consistency. Merit-making does not need only personal rebirth, but also the law of karma. Simply put, the individual who does something will undergo its consequences. That is the general account of karma. However, the detailed principle is much more complicated. In one occasion, the Buddha rejected three positions regarding whatever we experience at a time that: (a) is caused by what we have done in the past, (b) is caused by God, and (c) occurs without a cause 58 Anālayo

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2018, p. 3, emphasis added

11.5. Discursive dimension or condition.59 The refusal of these three, particularly the first position, and the assertion that every action has result—“Every good deed bears fruit or soon or late, No deed without result, and nothing vain”60 —makes the explicit explanation of karmic process impossible or inconceivable.61 In another occasion, the Buddha said that feelings we experience may come from bile disorders, phlegm disorders, wind disorders, the imbalance of the former three, change of climate, careless behavior, assault (from others), and the result of karma.62 This exacerbates the transparency, how do we know which one is our product? The commentators indeed concern with this problem. Bhikkhu Bodhi himself holds that the Buddha implies that karma can be an indirect cause for the feeling induced by the other causes.63 According to the Abhidhamma, Bodhi further refers, “all bodily painful feeling is the result of kamma (kamma-vipāka), but it is not necessarily produced exclusively by kamma.”64 Another account related to this issue is the five orderliness of nature (niyāma). They are physical laws, biological laws, psychic law, moral laws, and the law of cause and effect.65 To add more complication, in some condition the karma is lapsed (ahosikamma), hence fruitless.66 We can feel uneasy from these accounts. On one hand, we have to maintain the immutability of karma and make it always a cause. On the other hand, our knowledge and experiences tell us otherwise. Investigating closely, we find that the doctrine of karma is somehow problematic, and the commentators tried hard to make it coherent. That is why, I think, it is classified as inconceivable. My definition of ‘inconceivable’ is “unable to make coherent in any way” (so, forget it about an intelligible account, just accept it as such). Quantum physics, no matter how hard 59 Bodhi

2012, p. 226:§61; AN I 173 1901, p. 247; Jātaka, No. 498 61 Bodhi 2012, p. 463:§77; AN II 80 62 Bodhi 2000, p. 1279; SN IV 230–1 63 p. 1436 64 p. 1436 65 Payutto 1998, pp. 152–3 [ป. อ. ปยุตฺโต, พุทธธรรม ฉบับปรับปรุงและขยายความ]; Payutto 2008a, p. 166:§223; also Nyanatiloka 1991, p. 111; the source is in the commentaries 66 Buddhaghosa 2010, p. 625:XIX§14; ‘superseded karma’ is used in Gombrich 1971b, p. 214 60 Rouse

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis and bizarre it is, is not inconceivable in this sense. The key problem of this clumsiness, in my view, is an attempt to maintain the idea of rebirth and the continuity of person. This engenders what I call agent-based karmic explanation. There has to be someone who does the action and gets the result. This is in fact not the legitimate account of karma according to the tradition. Some may argue that a conventional person must be posited, unless the karma turns senseless. That is not the case, because karma can be explained without any agent. I call this processbased karmic explanation which is well-established in Theravada tradition. In Visuddhimagga, this assertion is found: Kammassa kārako natthi, vipākassa ca vedako; Suddhadhammā pavattanti, evetaṃ sammadassanaṃ.67 There is no doer of a deed Or one who reaps the deed’s result; Phenomena alone flow on – No other view than this is right.68 So is this one in another place: Dukkhameva hi, na koci dukkhito; Kārako na, kiriyāva vijjati. Atthi nibbuti, na nibbuto pumā; Maggamatthi, gamako na vijjati.69 For there is suffering, but none who suffers; Doing exists although there is no doer. Extinction is but no extinguished person; Although there is a path, there is no goer.70 That is to say, karma at its heart is dependent origination (paṭiccasamuppāda) and goes hand in hand with selflessness (anattā). 67 Vism

XIX§689 2010, p. 627:XIX§20 69 Vism XVI§567 70 Buddhaghosa 2010, p. 529:XVI§90 68 Buddhaghosa

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11.5. Discursive dimension P. A. Payutto puts it this way: “Since everything is anattā, karma thus goes as it is.”71 If there is any substance in the process, changes due to causality cannot occur. Hence, karma is better regarded as an ‘impersonal force’ which no one is in control.72 Seeing them as a discourse, we can say that the agent-based karmic discourse dominates the process-based discourse in meritmaking. Because explaining karma or merit-making without any person is incomprehensible to most people. Steven Collins puts it this way. For him, it is necessary socially, psychologically, and logically to have self-interested merit-making in order that the doctrine of anattā can act “as an agent of spiritual change.”73 If I understand this correctly, it seems to mean that personhood is needed to be posited, otherwise anattā will turn pointless. The attempt to maintain personhood in the karmic process in order to make rebirth sensible causes a number of paradoxical consequences. Think about this. If I am born with a blank memory, how the karmic explanation justifies my happenings in life without abusing its justice, for I really do not recall what I have done before? Putting a death sentence upon those who cannot remember what they have done sounds really unfair. Gananath Obeyesekere sees this unknown karmic load causes psychological indeterminacy that add insecurity to person’s moral life.74 This can only happen when we consider karma in terms of agent, because the feelings of justice and security make sense only by attributing to an agent subjectively. In the terms of process, there are no such things. As Keyes notes, “there is no moral justice in karmic destiny.”75 To conclude, merit-making as a common practice today makes rebirth as an indispensable discourse, as well as the persistence of a soul-like personhood. These beliefs make the core of Buddhist doctrine vulnerable to inconsistency, particularly in agent-based karmic explanation which is simpler to understand. When explaining, people do it simply as “one does, one shall get; one gets, so one did,” in Thai krai tham krai dai (ใครทำใครได้), but when making merit they contribute to others nonetheless. Peo71 Payutto

1998, p. 212 1983a, p. 15 73 Collins 1982, p. 152 74 Obeyesekere 2002, p. 133 75 Keyes 1983a, p. 15 72 Keyes

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis ple’s very behaviors can therefore somehow affect the doctrine.76 This makes merit transference justified by practice. As an actionoriented religion (kammavādī kiriyavādī), consistency in the metaphysical foundation does not matter much to most people on practical ground.

11.5.2. Analysis of social identities and relations Upon the system of knowledge postulated by the discourse of merit-making, social agents are categorized. The most important pair is monks and donors. Other personal categories sprung from that relation are ceremonial leaders, monastic lay stewards, and other monastic dwellers. These social agents form a symbiotic ecosystem operating mainly by a currency called merit. As a field of merit, monks are the ideal recipient of all givings in Buddhist world. Monks are normally regarded as morally superior to the laity, particularly, as mentioned earlier, when they are present as a group (sangha). By this stance, monks are indispensable to merit-making acts, especially the formal ones. An effective transference of merit can be done with monks as a mediator. Monks therefore can be seen as a connector between the living world and the dead one. As explained by John Holt, in śrāddha rite of Brahmanism from which the transference of merit is adapted, the deceased is regarded as the ‘extended’ family of the living, and monks replace that position in Buddhist dead rituals.77 Offering things to monks can pass the givings to the dead, so monks are treated like people’s relatives. When the relatives offer food to monks in a hope that the merit will favorably pass to the dead ones, they usually offer what the departed like to eat when they were alive. Donors are equally important to merit-making. Without them, nothing can happen. Technically speaking, donors convert their economic capital into a symbolic one, i.e., merit (more about this below). Merit-making hence create a reciprocal relationship between the laity and the monastic community.78 It creates what Ellison Findly calls ‘dāna contract’79 , a kind of obligation that 76 Gombrich 77 John 78 p.

2

1971a, p. 206 C. Holt 1981, p. 19

79 Findly

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2003, p. 1

11.5. Discursive dimension each party has to be responsible. It is a form of social exchange.80 George Tanabe sees that, in Japanese context, merit-making “is a cornerstone for sustaining the clergy and their monasteries.”81 In Thailand, we can see the same pattern. But I think the situation is different, because performing ceremonies in Japan is more like business of the monasteries, and monks in Japan can do a business outright. This makes ceremonial conduct in Japan is highly competitive and crucial to the temple’s survival. In Thailand, monks cannot do a business, and totally depend on people. It is more symbiotic in biological terms, not economic terms. However, Maria Heim sees the relation between monks and donors, against Mauss, as “asymmetrical and unreciprocated”.82 For her, the giving is valued to be done unidirectionally, not because it is “selfless and pure,” but rather because “it makes possible valued human relationships based on esteem and admiration.”83 I can feel some truth from this argument, but in a small extent. I rather see it as too idealistic. Thus, I prefer the reciprocal model, although it is not perfectly symmetrical. To the issue of the reciprocal relationship between monks and community, it is worth mentioning Stanley Tambiah who relates the reciprocity to the social structure of the village. Tambiah sees monks, mostly the junior generation, serve the elderly in the community by performing mortuary rituals. In turn, the elders conduct su-khwan (สู่ขวัญ) rites for the young, typically before the ordination. And monks are “the agents of merit-transfer to the old, who are facing imminent death.”84 The reciprocal model of Tambiah is criticized by Angela Burr who conducted a study in southern Thailand in 1974 and found a different pattern. Burr sees reciprocity between two generations is too simplistic, and it “forces the facts into too narrow a channel, into an ill-fitting straitjacket.”85 Tambiah draws the general conclusion from a very specific case, so to speak. I quite agree with Burr on this point, but I will respond with the current situation. It is rare today in Thailand that a young man spends a long 80 Mauss

1966 Jr. 2004, p. 532 82 Heim 2004, p. xviii 83 p. 144 84 Tambiah 1970, p. 259 85 Burr 1978, p. 106 81 Tanabe

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis period of time as a monk, although many of them still enter the Order as a rite of passage. Burr argues on this point86 because monkhood does not serve that function solely. A more intriguing reason for Burr is that the achieved state of mind is important to the rite of passage. When young Thais spend a short period of time being a monk, typically one month for today comparing to a year or more in the former time, the new monks virtually learn nothing from the occasion. So, ordination in this case is inappropriately regarded as a rite of passage. Yet, I am curious that whether personal transformation is really crucial to rite of passage, for it is the internal state that is hard to be observed, if not impossible. Therefore, I am still sympathetic with Tambiah that monkhood is a rite of passage for Thai men, even it is treated as such symbolically or ritually. Channarong Boonnoon estimates, from various sets of data, that 60 percent of monks in Thailand are temporary87 , mostly young adults. Giving an interview to Boonnoon, Phra Paisan Visalo (พระไพศาล วิสาโล) said that in Chaiyaphum, a province in the North-East, outside the rain retreat (the Lent) less than a half of all monasteries have permanent monks, and more than a half of that have only one monk. Most of these permanent monks are the elderly, or luangtaa (หลวงตา) in Thai, who have entered the order in their old age.88 This situation seems common now in Thailand. In my area, Uthai Thani, it is slightly better than that of Ven. Visalo, because few monasteries are unoccupied, but one or two monks in a rural monastery is not uncommon nonetheless. This renders the reciprocity between the young and the elderly in Tambiah’s view no longer applicable nowadays. It can make some sense that when a young member of the family becomes a monk, he will be an agent of merit for the family, particularly for the elders. But it is so in a very short period of time. Besides, it is now no longer the case that khwan ceremonial conductor or mo-khwan (หมอขวัญ) is an elder. Some are relatively young today, and many of them are business-like event organizers. So, seeing the interaction between monks and community as a reciprocity between 86 Burr

1978, p. 104 2008, p. 28 [ชาญณรงค์ บุญหนุน, พระสงฆ์ไทยในอนาคต: บทสำรวจเบื้องต้น ว่าด้วยการเปลี่ยนแปลง] 88 pp. 42–3; see also Bunnag 1973, p. 36 87 Boonnoon

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11.5. Discursive dimension generations is now irrelevant. However, a social exchange really occurs in that interaction, but in a symbiotic way as mentioned above. In addition to monks and donors, there are some other personal categories related to merit-making. The ceremonial leader, MC or magganāyaka, but Thais widely call makkathaayok 89 (มัคทายก), is one of those whose duty is necessitated by the ritual. It is unusual, in fact forbidden, to monks to make a request for themselves. There must be someone to do the job, but most people are not familiar with religious activities. That is why the ceremonial leaders is needed. They are normally a former monk who spent a considerably long period in robe, so they know the custom well. In an ad hoc situation, sometimes a knowledgeable woman, or even a young person, leads the ceremony. The ceremonial leaders can talk to people on behalf of monks, for monks have some limitations. They know what is proper for monks and can suggest people in the way that the ceremony will run smoothly and effectively. The ceremonial leaders are therefore a mediator between monks and laypeople. In village society, they conduct the service out of generosity. But in some big temples, they may have an interest from the ceremony; sometimes they get paid for example. There are other minor roles that relate to merit-making. In strict monasteries with a good system of management, there normally are lay stewards (kappiyakāraka) who look after monks, particularly in money issue. They receive money from the donors, keep it for monks, and use it to buy things when monks request. These lay stewards are usually devout adherents of the monastery, because the position is vulnerable to be corrupted if the system runs badly. In some temples, a reliable nun or maechee (แม่ช)ี takes charge of this duty. Most temples in the countryside have no such personnel, but a vaiyaavacakorn (ไวยาวัจกร) is officially appointed to look after assets of the temple, not individual monks. In the past, there were children or dekwat (เด็กวัด) living in the temple for their educational purpose, monks got help from these children. Now 89 This word is colloquial. It comes from Pāli maggadāyaka, literally means “one who gives the way.” The right word in this context is magganāyaka (one who leads the way). Only knowledgeable ones use this term. Most Thais know this leading role as makkathaayok. The meaning of the word does not go too far, though.

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis all children go to school, and monks are hardly able to find a trustworthy person to look after their money issue, so they have to handle it by themselves. If we look in macro-level, merit-making constitutes a considerable economic sector involving many businesses, such as textile industry, monastic article manufacturing, and gifts-for-monk vendors. In a big ceremony with many guests, like a timely ordination of an only son, it can involve food and beverage industry, show business, and event organizers. That is to say, merit-making is not just a religious affair of a particular kind of people and circumstances. It is a significant social and economic drive in Thai culture. There is a pressing issue that should be addressed here, but I can mention it briefly for a lack of relevant data in hand. It is about gender. As we have seen, we can say roughly that meritmaking is a male-dominated activity. A marked point is that nuns (maechee—shaved, white-robed female ascetics) are not regarded as a field of merit as monks and novices. Young novices who play all day are still more desirable receivers than nuns who meditate all day. Nuns can not perform any ritual, even get alms by themselves (but some go for morning alms with limited acceptance). This makes nuns who live in a temple depend totally on monks. Merit-making seems to posit an asymmetrical relationship between genders. That is to say, male is categorized as the recipient and mediator, and female the giver and the sacrificer. It is true even today as Tambiah observed some decades ago that “women are more frequent ‘churchgoers’ than men.”90 The role of women in merit-making can be an interesting research issue for a further study.91

11.6. Constitutive dimension In the previous dimension, we have seen that merit-making establishes itself as a discourse which determines a system of knowledge and social dynamics. In this last dimension, we will see the very outcome of the merit-making discourse as a social practice. I propose two criteria to analyze in constitutive dimension, 90 Tambiah 91 See

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1968, p. 68; Tambiah 1970, p. 145 Falk 2007, for example.

11.6. Constitutive dimension namely disposition analysis and capital analysis. Both originate from Pierre Bourdieu’s theory of practice, but my adaptation may stray away from his account to some extent.

11.6.1. Disposition analysis Dispositions, or habitus in Bourdieu’s terms, are habits constituted by merit-making discourse. Realities constructed by the discourse are materialized into a social practice. Here are some apparent instances. (a) Merit-making as a training course for monks

The role of monks in merit-making nowadays seems to be far away from the original renouncers in the former time. The interaction with householders has made the discourse of merit and merit-making inevitably change over time and social settings. In Thailand at the present day, merit-making has unique characteristics representing both Thai and Buddhism. For Thais, monkhood is still regarded as a training arena. In most monasteries in Thailand, particularly in the countryside, there is no substantial, effective training course for monks. There are that kind of monastery, of course, but very few. Monks mostly train themselves by practical means. And merit-making is the only way that can encourage monks to practice, because it is the main source of income. It is the case especially for those who are not have the soteriological goal in the first place, but become a monk for some other reasons. In performing ceremonies, monks have to remember the chanting by heart, behave in a proper monk’s way, and know how to conduct the ceremonies. This practice may not lead them to enlightenment which requires more rigorous training, but, after years of this daily practice, certain attitudes and dispositions leaning to that direction are constituted eventually. Apparently, most monks, whether learned or not, whether meditator or not, are content with their simple living, and indifferent to death and losses in general. That is the basic dispositions constituted by merit-making as a ritual. This view is in the same line of P. A. Payutto who sees ritual as a basis of disciplinary training92 because it needs some degree of self-control. 92 Payutto

2008b, p. 8

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis It is oversimplified to say that monks make a living by meritmaking, particular by the death-related rituals. Sometimes, I hear people, monks included, jokingly say “phra kin phee” (พระกินผี) meaning monks eat the dead, because funeral is the most profitable ceremony for monks. Some extend the sentence to, “phra kin phee, lottery kin phra” (พระกินผี ล็อตเตอรี่กินพระ) meaning lottery eat monks in turn, because when monks have money, many of them spend it on lottery.93 I cannot deny that there is some truth in that joke, because I often see it myself. However, my point is that monks are naturally familiar with death. Years ago, when I wandered to a remote temple, two men were killed in an accident; one of them was brought to the temple. There was a young monk, familiar with the dead, who helped the relatives clean the body, tie it with the thread, put it in the coffin, and organize the funeral. And the monk himself was the one who got the body cremated by charcoal in the incinerator. I helped him in this occasion, because we had to keep the fire up and see how it went on to make sure that all the cadaver was burned; sometime we had to poke the body with an iron rod. I used to see cremations on a pyre several times, but this was the closest position when I saw the burned body, and I will never forget that smell. When we see death is very close and natural like most monks see, it is less intimidating. Although monks usually engage with death via merit-making rituals, not direct undertaking as my told story, monks and death are an intimate pair when they live with it for a long time. Another important habit that is cultivated by merit-making and other activities in the temple is self-control. The ability to control oneself is essential to personal development.94 In the monasteries that observe strict rules, monks and novices can get a good result from the disciplinary training. In normal temples in the remote area, they behave more freely within the acceptance of the community. Merit-making is an occasion that monks and novices must have themselves controlled to conform with people’s expectation. In other time they may do whatever they want (in a limited way), in ritual context they must keep themselves composed. If we can live our life in such a situation for a long time, 93 See

an example in Terwiel 1976, p. 394; Terwiel 1994, pp. 113–4 the famous Stanford marshmallow experiments in Mischel, Ebbesen, and Zeiss 1972. 94 See

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11.6. Constitutive dimension the monastic habits are eventually cultivated. As a result, no matter how deteriorated behaviors of monks we have seen lately, on the average they still have a better self-control, better to regulate their emotions, let alone those who live themselves up to the ideal. Moreover, in 20 minutes of chanting, even monks who are not keen on meditation still get a good result from this piecemeal mind development. (b) Merit-making as a Buddhist way of life

On the side of donors, merit-making fulfills their religious conviction in a friendly way, not too intimidating like living a harsh life or meditating all day. As it is done frequently, merit-making constitutes a Buddhist way of life. People cultivate an attitude of giving things away. Moreover, in the countryside, merit-making unifies the village community in the way that if one house has the event, other houses will give a hand and participate the ceremony. Ernest Young noted long time ago that ‘making merit’ is “the sum and substance of [Siamese] religious faith and worship.”95 It is still true nowadays. This Buddhist way of life may not be ‘Buddhist’ as it seems. When people take the precepts, they do not observe them to the letter. When asked about the Buddhist doctrine, most people have very limited knowledge. They may be heard about nirvana (nibbāna), but they do not know why it matters to them. This anecdote from Ernest Young can capture the point nicely. An English resident in Siam had a servant who frequently absented himself from his duties. On each occasion, when questioned by his master as to the cause of his absence, he replied, “Please, sir, I went to make merit.” Said the Englishman, perhaps a little too irreverently, “At the rate you are making merit, I should think you would be an archangel when you die.” – “Ah no,” replied the servant, “I don’t want to be an angel. I don’t want to get to Nirvana. I shouldn’t like to make enough merit to get to Nirvana; I only want to make just enough merit to be born back again into this world as a royal prince, with 95 Young

1898, p. 274

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis lots of money, plenty of wives and heaps of fun.”96 The same responds can also be found in Sri Lanka and Myanmar.97 A Burmese businessman replied to Spiro: “In nirvana there is no body, no soul, nothing. Who wants that?”98 This reflects that nirvana is generally regarded as extinction by most people. They do not want to go that far, or not yet. But John Clifford Holt heard another story from the Burmese laity who insist that “merit is explicitly the means to nibbana”99 , either by a better rebirth as human or being born in the time of the next Buddha. To me, this does not sound much different. Some adhere to the discourse of nirvana as a super blissful state. This can make nirvana more desirable, but it just like another kind of heaven. It is the same at emotional level, so to speak. In some area, I hear people say “nibbāna-paccayo hotu” (may this giving be a cause to nirvana) when they make an offering to monks. But I think they do not take it seriously, because if it is so they will do other serious practice as well, like self-control by precept observance or meditation. This case has the same feeling as the case mentioned by Holt above. Merit-making therefore conspicuously constitutes the discourse of giving (dāna). As noted by Spiro, when the Burmese are asked about the ways to make merit they “almost without exception, mention dāna to the exclusion of anything else.”100 Tambiah also sees a similar reaction in his study. He concludes that “meritmaking through gift-giving is more valued than merit-making through the observance of Buddhistic precepts and the pursuit of Buddhistic ethical aims.”101 Is this in accordance with the Buddhist doctrine? Even if we can answer partly ‘Yes’ to this question, I see the question irrelevant when we consider merit-making as a discourse. The Buddhist legitimate doctrine is just a part of this discourse which constitutes it as a ‘Buddhist’ activity. There are also elements outside Buddhism that are the ingredients of merit-making as 96 Young

1898, p. 277 1971b, pp. 16–7; Spiro 1982, p. 80

97 Gombrich 98 p.

79

99 John

Clifford Holt 2017, p. 203 1982, p. 103 101 Tambiah 1968, p. 70; Tambiah 1970, p. 148 100 Spiro

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11.6. Constitutive dimension well, such as personal psychological make-up, social status, economic pressure, educational level, etc. Merit-making practiced nowadays is an equilibrium between other-worldly ideal and this-worldly reality. We call this equilibrium ‘attractor’ in complexity theory102 —like optimum numbers of predators and their preys in a balanced ecology. If everyone takes nirvana seriously, no one will bother involving in the mundane living, hence no supporter for the recluses. If no one takes the other-worldly path and posits the ideal ethical goal, the mundane business can run wild, and there is no exit for those who have enough of it. That is why, as we have seen in structural analysis, most elements of merit-making concern with mundane affairs, such as prosperity, fortune, and evil protection. In memorial services, some symbolic implications can remind people to the impermanence of life, so that they should lead their life cautiously. This conclusion does not go far from Ellison Findly who also sees giving in this context as a symbiosis between those who have worldly and other-worldly concern. This charitable donation can also “give boundaries and curb excesses”103 to both groups. Merit-making thus affects, and is affected by, social and economic spheres other than the religious one. Can we say that merit-making makes nirvana lost from people’s mind, for it is not encouraged substantially, except in some ritualistic manner in this occasion? Or it is just, as Buddhadāsa Bhikkhu said (in 1967), “a mechanical contract for buying oneself a good rebirth,” thus “useless as raising chickens in order to feed the eggs to the dogs.”104 The attitude of Ajahn Buddhadāsa on this issue sounds intriguing, because it is logical to some extent. The eggs meant by Ajahn Buddhadāsa are the (real) merit that people do not recognize. They raise chickens (make merit) but do not get the benefit from their product, so the eggs are discarded to be wastefully eaten by dogs.105 But I think “buying a good rebirth” is far from ‘useless’ if we consider the giving as a practice. The mental state does not matter much than the action itself. When we give for a long time as a personal habit, the attitude of giving accordingly changes. 102 See

Mitchell 2009, p. 30 2003, p. 404 104 As cited in Mulder 1996, p. 129 105 Buddhadāsa 1968, p. 2 [พุทธทาสภิกขุ, ทำบุญสามแบบ] 103 Findly

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis To my thought, if the discourse of merit and a better rebirth is not established, most Buddhists will not give anything to monks. Because for ordinary people nirvana or perfect observance of precepts is definitely out of their reach. If merit is useless to make them close to the ultimate goal, why should they bother making them? Even if we can deny rebirth on ontological ground, we cannot ignore its usefulness as conceptual and psychological apparatus. An attempt of Ajahn Buddhadāsa to bring nirvana down by making it understandable to most people virtually fails in most religious fronts. Those who follow the forest tradition do not accept it, as well as those who follow Burmese vipassanā tradition; and most ordinary Buddhists, including learned ones like M.R. Kukrit Pramote 106 , find the teaching unintelligible. It is an ineffective discourse, so to speak. Now most people still perceive nirvana as incomprehensible, unreachable, and somewhat undesirable. However, Ajahn Buddhadāsa influences me in a significant way on critical attitude. Is it (good) enough to let merit-making go that way? As I see it as a symbiotic equilibrium, I would say we cannot do anything about it. It can be changed if related factors change, but it is outside our control and the change will take a considerably long time. Even though monks preach the excellency of nirvana every time the ceremony is conducted, it yields little effect. It is the way of life, perhaps before Buddhism got born. Although Buddhist ideas can put some meaning in what people do to live their life, the living needs to go on and the ideal is put aside. Let us think in terms of dispositions that are constituted by merit-making on the side of people. They cultivate the attitude of giving, helping, and sacrifice. People can pay gratitude to their beloved ones. Merit-making opens an opportunity for people to be generous to one another. Some donors might start making merit in order to buy a desirable future, but if they do it often enough, the attitude of giving is established in the end, because the giving itself is intrinsically rewarding. While monks are chanting, people have a period of time they can sit calmly, which is hard to find in their daily life, even they do not understand anything recited. The most important disposition people get, to my thought, is that they internalize the Buddhist ideal as 106 Both

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once had a debate; see Ito 2012, Chapter 4.

11.6. Constitutive dimension a guideline for their living. They may not live up to the ideal, or even close, but they will not fall off the path too far either. Being happy and tranquil at the moment of merit-making is done can be an immediate reward spiritually. This final point is also emphasized by Findly.107

11.6.2. Capital analysis The most obvious element counted as a capital here is merit itself. It is a symbolic capital par excellence. In people’s conception, merit is very much like money or credit. We have already discussed this issue in a section above.108 It is really the case concerning Thai Buddhists. The analogy of spiritual account is also used by Jane Bunnag109 showing that this metaphor is deeply rooted in Thai consciousness. Now we will look merit in terms of capital. As a field of merit, monks themselves are a kind of cultural capital, for they have a special status in society. They not only possess valued traditional knowledge, but they also have traditional value by themselves. This highly valued cultural capital can generate a symbolic capital we call merit. Monks have an exceptional position to be the source of this highly valued symbolic capital. People who offer gifts to monks, particularly in group, will get unmeasurable result. People transform their economic capital, in the form of food and other things, into merit, a symbolic one. Merit can be accumulated like other kinds of capital. As merit relates to karma, we have to accumulate it by ourselves. We all have an account of merit, so to speak. At some point in the development of this Buddhist practice, merit can also be transferred, particularly to the dead ones who cannot accumulate it by themselves. If we have enough merit, we can get a good rebirth or a fortune in this lifetime, but the outcome is totally unpredictable. When we get some good results, the merit is spent. That is how the merit capital works. Unlike real money, merit does not decease by accumulating demerit, usually called baap (บาป) or pāpa. Demerit is kept in 107 Findly

2003, e.g., p. 404 page 110. 109 Bunnag 1973, e.g., p. 19 108 See

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis another account separately. This makes everyone, according to this common belief, has two spiritual accounts. When people do bad things, they accumulate demerit. This has no effect on their merit account. Demerit pays back with unpleasant experiences, losses and degenerated rebirth. This is the orthodox position as we find in a Jātaka: Yāni karoti puriso, tāni attani passati; Kalyāṇakārī kalyāṇaṃ, pāpakārī ca pāpakaṃ; Yādisaṃ vapate bījaṃ, tādisaṃ harate phalaṃ.110 Whatever a man does, the same he in himself will find; The good man, good; and evil he that evil has designed; And so our deeds are all like seeds, and bring forth fruit in kind.111 However, at psychological level people cannot accept that, because they do bad things nonetheless and have anxiety about that. It is better if they can somehow compensate the demerit with merit. When people feel unlucky, they tend to think they have not enough merit and need some refill. Therefore in practice people do good things in a hope that the merit obtained can compensate the demerit account. We can interpret merit-making in this way, but the discourse does not serve that function well. We have many other kinds of ritual that accommodate such a need, such as tadkam (ตัดกรรม – cutting the karma), kaekam (แก้กรรม – fixing the karma), sadohkroh (สะเดาะเคราะห์ – fixing the bad karmic results), torchataa (ต่อชะตา – extending the predestined death), nonlong (นอนโลง – lying in a coffin as dead, thus the bad karma is redeemed), to name some notable ones.112 110 Jātaka

2.144 1895, p. 142; Jātaka No. 222 112 Some of the names mentioned are identical in practice, a treatment of these rituals see Hubina 2017. 111 Rouse

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11.6. Constitutive dimension When symbol is used, Pierre Bourdieu reminds us about the exploitation of it. He calls this symbolic violence—“the imposition of systems of symbolism and meaning (i.e. culture) upon groups or classes in such a way that they are experienced as legitimate.”113 The account is very close to discourse articulated in Appendix E, but only the negative part of it. And by his own explanation, it is worth quoting as follows: If acts of communication—exchanges of gifts, challenges, or words—always bear within them a potential conflict, it is because they always contain the possibility of domination. Symbolic violence is that form of domination which … is only exerted through the communication in which it is disguised.114 Can we see merit and demerit understood by most people as a form of symbolic violence? When the discourse of merit-making is established, the whole symbolic system related to the discourse is regarded as legitimate, no matter how much it goes against the doctrine. By Bourdieu’s account, the position of monks, or religious institute in general, is more dominant because of monk’s moral superiority (higher value of cultural capital). People are exploited by the discourse which monks have more power to control. They give economic capital to monks, and get just un-reusable symbols in return. Can we really say that people are manipulated by monks? As a monk, it is not suitable for me to defend the position, for it will be like an excuse. However, to my impartiality, it is not a black or white issue. The practice is by no means a unilateral manipulation, if we use that term. Monks and people use each other to fulfill their needs and desires, and the merit-making discourse is the tool that can do the job successfully. Power does not go one direction; it comes from everywhere.115 People can be under-informed or misinformed to make an unreasonable donation by monks who want a fortune. People also insist to offer things to monks who have less needs and see an excessive offering as a burden. It is unusual that monks decline the gifts when offered. Sometimes, to the monks who pursue the 113 Jenkins

1992, p. 66 1977, p. 237, emphases in original 115 Foucault 1978, p. 93 114 Bourdieu

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11. Merit-making comprehensive analysis ideal, too much giving hampers their spiritual path. Thus, it is better to contextualize the problem of symbolic violence before we assess the situation. A more obvious symbolic violence in merit-making is the inferior status of female ascetics as a less fertile field of merit, if not being excluded entirely. On the side of donors, gender does not matter; it has no effect on giving. Any gender, age, or social class can offer gifts to monks and get the same amount of merit if other giving factors are the same. But only male receivers are regarded as a more fruitful field of merit. The problem is not about the Vinaya; it is about the outdated gender discourse in Buddhism. Social efficacy that people earn from being a merit-maker can be seen as charisma, a form of social capital.116 Monks also have this kind of capital because they can bring people together. They generally have this appeal by their status which Max Weber calls ‘routinized charisma.’117 Unlike prophet who is “a purely individual bearer of charisma,” monk, or priest in Weber’s terms, has charisma “by virtue of his office.” Personal charisma of monk may be involved, Weber admits, but “it is the hierarchical office that confers legitimate authority upon the priest as a member of an organized enterprise of salvation.”118 When a man enters the Order as a monk, he is endowed with this charisma. Even if he is a young member of the family, he is treated with respectful attitude. People are normally happy to see some new monks in their ceremonies, even if they cannot remember any chanting. Monks therefore possess a social capital by their nature. Together with their traditional status with high value of cultural capital and a potential to induce a specific symbolic capital (merit), monks are counted as valuable social agents in Thai culture regardless of their former lay status. There are some anomalies of this, of course, but very few. Cultural capital is also found in merit-making, apart from the monks themselves, mostly in the form of knowledge. Monks have knowledge of Buddhism, and can remember some Pali suttas, so do some laypeople, such as ceremonial leaders. Cultural treasure can be stored and handed down by religious activities. And meritmaking is one of the most common practice in Buddhist world. 116 See

a discussion in Section 11.4.1. 1946, p. 262 118 Weber 1978, p. 440 117 Weber

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11.6. Constitutive dimension In addition, merit-making creates a social affiliation. People who participate in merit-making regularly, especially every Buddhist holy day, join a group with others. Sometimes, people find new friends from this occasion, because the circumstance help connecting the like-minded individuals together. Merit-making hence can enhance our social capital in the religious circle.

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Part III.

Conclusions

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12. Implications of the results After a long journey in finding some ground, building up some tool, and using it with some case study, here is the time to wrap all things up. Since I already have spent much space in previous chapters, in this final chapter I try to make succinct remarks, and not every point mentioned earlier will be addressed. For the results of my analyses can be found in the previous chapter, I will only summarize some of the significant ones. Their implications are more important, because they are the outcome of my interpretation of the results. (a) Merit-making is an all-in-one ritual, but primarily a religious ritual.

Dividing ritual into religious, magical, and social ritual, even though it is commonly recognizable, it is problematic in meritmaking. As we have seen, some significant parts of the ceremony are magical in essence, such as paritta recitation and the whole process of blessing. In memorial services, it seems less magical in purpose, because the occasion is suitable for teaching, but people see it as a magical act anyway. Merit-making also has a marked social function. It assembles people together. It convenes a meeting between monks and lay donors. Merit-making makes social exchanges happen. In religious domain, merit-making materializes the Buddhist doctrine into practice in a moderate way. Since monks totally depend on the laity for material support, they inevitably engage with merit-making one way or another, regardless of how rigorously they practice. Merit-making thus fulfills the religious function in both sides. For monks, it opens an opportunity to obtain material necessities other than daily alms. Young monks and novices also have an occasion to practice themselves. For laypeople, merit-making fulfills their religious commitment in supporting monastic communities and the religion as a whole. Although the doctrine is not presented obviously as a teaching, it is ingrained in the form of ceremony. By this way,

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12. Implications of the results the Buddhist practice is internalized by all participants of meritmaking. By this very reason, I maintain that merit-making is first and foremost a religious ritual. (b) Buddhism is a repository of knowledge, and merit-making is a practical instance that partly uses some materials from that storehouse in cooperation with some cultural elements. As a result, merit-making is by and large a cultural product.

This is quite a big issue inaugurated from the problem of the discrepancy between Buddhist doctrine and practice. A pioneering treatment can be traced back to the differentiation between the great and the little tradition.1 Or looking in another way, the problem is articulated by the inconsistency between literary texts and anthropologist’s data, which Tambiah rejects these two levels of representation as “an invention of the anthropologist.”2 Another treatment is an attempt to distinguish between syncretism and compartmentalization.3 Non-Buddhist elements are identified4 and their relation to the Buddhist core is articulated. Syncretic relation is more seamless than compartmentalized one. Tambiah (1970) takes a more syncretic, holistic approach, while Spiro (1982) uses a more compartmentalized one depicting that incongruous elements have their distinct function. Michael Ames (1967) sees Sinhalese Buddhism in a similar way as Spiro does in Burma. To Kirsch and Terwiel’s syncretic view, Thai Buddhism is animistic by its nature. Kirsch also sees that Thai religion has been undergoing the ‘upgrading’ process to be more Buddhist.5 My approach makes no use of any distinction mentioned above. I prefer discursive approach that is hard to define succinctly, unless a variety of disciplines are taken into consideration as described at length in the appendices. To make it concise, let me go directly to my conclusion step by step. First, the Pali canon is a repository of Buddhist texts, mostly used by Theravāda school including Thai Buddhism. By textual nature of the repository, it is normal to keep in mind that inconsistencies are always present, because the contents come from 1 Redfield 1956, p. 70; and in a different application, Obeyesekere 1963, p. 142 2 Tambiah 1970, p. 371 3 Terwiel 1994, p. 4; Terwiel 1976, p. 403 4 See Kirsch 1977, p. 244, 260 5 pp. 263–4

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myriads of sources, but the overall coherence can be expected. If the canon had a monolithic consistency, it would be better to be suspected as a fabrication, or there was an attempt to make it so.6 As a repository, we do not use everything in the Pali canon. We selectively use some items that can serve our purposes. When a particular sutta is used and interpreted in a particular way, a discourse is produced. Merit-making is one of those discourses created by this selective process. Second, a culture is a repository of practices. What we really practice is not exactly in the Pali canon. It comes from another storehouse, i.e., local culture. A culture can store texts other than religious ones, some ready-made discourses, and forms of activities (rituals). This view is in the same vein as Ann Swidler who says, “culture provides a repertoire of capacities from which varying strategies of action may be constructed.”7 Justin McDaniel uses this repertoire model to explain Thai religious practices by seeing Buddhism as a technological provider for people can use to accomplish their goals. What McDaniel means by Buddhism here is not exactly the Pali canon, but rather the constructed Buddhist discourses in my sense. By repertoire, McDaniel specifically means things that we use to interact with others, for example words, images, as well as “… gestures, objects, texts, plots, tropes, ethical maxims, precepts, ritual movements.”8 People utilize these elements to form a cultural practice. If the source of repertoire comes from religious domain, canonical or not, it is regarded as a religious practice. Third, merit-making ritual is a practice that incorporates some Buddhist discourses with some cultural materials. The notable Buddhist discourses used here are (a) merit as spiritual currency, (b) rebirth and the continuity of the personhood, and (c) the agent-based karmic causation. These three points are not harmoniously coherent, markedly between the item (a) and (c) because merit can also be transferred to other agents. Some established discourses are left out or underplayed, such as merit is more highly earned by self-control and meditation, nirvana is the most desirable goal, and selfhood is the very source of all suffering. The cultural materials used in merit-making are animistic world6 See

Gombrich 2006a, p. 11 1986, p. 284 8 McDaniel 2011, p. 225 7 Swidler

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12. Implications of the results view, ancestor worship, solidarity of kinship, for example. For the reason that the Buddhist discourses used are selected and adapted by the culture, merit-making is therefore the end-product of that culture. To some extent, merit-making can be divorced from its religious context. An interesting case is that even Thai Muslims in the far-south also make merit, particularly to dedicate to the dead.9 Examples outside Thailand can be found in Japan, as illustrated by Richard Payne and Taigen Dan Leighton. Shinran and Dōgen both use the same Chinese texts to express their own ideas; “they employed fundamentally parallel interpretive strategies.”10 In a similar way, Nichiren and Dōgen both use the Lotus Sutra but “not with the same ritual enactments or doctrinal interpretations.”11 (c) To be a Buddhist is to adopt a rhetoric of religious identity.

What constitutes Buddhists as Buddhist is not a coherent set of propositions they hold as truth, because we often find contradictions in their thinking system. Not everyone believes in anattā (non-self), or takes it seriously, even if it is a hallmark of Buddhism. And it is not necessary to be regarded as Buddhist for those who believe in the emptiness of self, because David Hume also sees in that way.12 Believing in karma and rebirth is by no means exclusive to the Buddhists as well. It is not about how much we know about the canon either, because many Western scholars, Gombrich for example, have better knowledge of this than most Thai Buddhists. Yet, they do not admit themselves as Buddhist. Some even turns away from it, such as Paul Williams.13 What determines Buddhists as Buddhist therefore is what they do in that domain. Some may have daily chanting, meditation, and alms giving. But non-Buddhists can also do these acts occasionally. Particularly, meditation is now applied as a therapeutic tool outside the domain of Buddhism completely. This strange consideration baffles me. While Thai kids are automatically Buddhist if they are born in a Buddhist family, some 9 Joll

2012, e.g., p. 87 and Leighton 2006b, p. 10 11 p. 10; see also Chapter 10 of the book 12 In A Treatise of Human Nature (1739), https://davidhume.org/texts/t/ 1/4/6 13 See Williams 2002 10 Payne

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non-Buddhist practitioners struggle to convert to Buddhism. What is the point of their conversion, I am still puzzled. Can someone do some ‘Buddhist’ things and become a Buddhist? When someone becomes a Buddhist monk or nun, it is obvious by the appearance that he or she is a Buddhist. But monks or nuns can have totally different beliefs and adopt different practices. This leads me to an uneasy conclusion. Buddhist identity is just a rhetoric, or a discourse if we see in that way. The difference between the two is that rhetoric is more superficial in linguistic level, while discourse goes deeper to the level of meaning. However, I tend to see Buddhist identity as meaningless, therefore I use rhetoric here. If the ultimate goal of Buddhism is to dismantle our selfhood, why does a certain identity matter? Buddhist identity is therefore basically a social or cultural identity. (d) Thai Buddhism is by and large a ritualistic religion.

From the discursive understanding of religious articulation, I reject the claim made by scholars that Buddhism is non-ritualistic (see Chapter 8). But I maintain that Buddhism’s first concern is about well-being, which can be achieved by ethical means. I have reasons for these. First, the statement that Buddhism is non-ritualistic need to be reframed. It is better to say that in the Pali canon there are instances showing that rituals cannot bring us the ultimate truth and cannot lead us the real wholesome life. This new statement sounds less problematic, but I still reject this by my second reason: The opposition between ritual and ethics is a false dichotomy. This problem reflects the ambiguity of the meaning of ritual itself. How far does the meaning of ritual cover? To placate gods by sacrificing lives sounds obvious it is a ritual. To mindlessly worship ‘something’ in a wish that it will bring a fortune or well-being (see Sigālaka in Chapter 8) also sounds like a ritual. But when we replace ‘something’ with the Buddha or Buddhist related respectable articles, the action becomes a good ‘ritual.’ It is still a kind of ritual anyway. When observing the Vinaya and doing some actions formally, monks normally do in a ritualistic way. Kamala Tiyavanich interprets this differently by mentioning Ajahn Man, a highly revered Thai forest monk, who prefers “mental discipline over rules of be-

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12. Implications of the results havior.”14 Her reason is that when we observe rules with awareness, they become “natural to one’s character instead of a mechanical adherence to rules.”15 My point is mindfulness does not come from nowhere, it is in fact cultivated by that “mechanical adherence to rules.” That is why Ajahn Man and his disciples are very strict to rules. However, in sympathy with Tiyavanich, it is not the rules themselves that matter most for they are just a given tool. Self-discipline earned from that training is the most important thing. By this regard, forest monasteries may have some slightly adapted rules to make the practice more effective. Daily routine (vatta) and etiquette in fact are the heart of this monastic training.16 By this practical view, ritual turns to be essential to the Buddhist training. Maria Heim also stresses this point.17 For Heim, ritual etiquette “occasions emotions and intentions.”18 By so doing, “good will and generosity are conditioned and cultivated.”19 Now we see that it is not about ritual per se that Buddhists should or should not embrace to their practice. It is about ethical concern. There are two meanings when we use the term ‘ethics.’ The first is about the code of conduct, which those who belong to a certain community are obliged to conform with. This is the Vinaya and the precepts in a loose sense. And the second is about the sense of right and wrong or morality in general. Buddhism uses the former to cultivate the latter, and conforming to the rules is ritualistic by its nature. Thus, the fundamental of Buddhist practice starts with ritual. My third reason is that magic and ritual should be treated separately, for the fact that not every ritual is magical. In other words, I maintain that Buddhist way of practice is not magical, but it is ritualistic as explained above. Perhaps, the jumble of these two notions makes some of early scholars of the field classify Buddhism as such. According to the orthodox view, there is no shortcut on the path to the liberation. We have to do it by ourselves rigorously. No magic trick can do the job. This is the standard we have to accept. 14 Tiyavanich

1997, p. 270 270 16 See Chandako 2003 17 See Heim 2004, pp. 84–8 18 p. 142, emphasis in original 19 p. 142 15 p.

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However, not everybody can endure such a grim practice. Some do not really concern to that ideal. By the gradualness of nature, magical means comes to the scene as a compromise. That is why we normally see magical elements in Buddhist rituals. Sometimes, if not often, these elements dominate the standard and set up their own normality. Yet, the elements of practice are still found in most Buddhist rituals. That is to say, Buddhist ritual may have magical components, but it will never be totally magical. The situation is inevitable because those who adhere to the ideal are far less than those who have a moderate concern. Both groups need each other. The ideal-oriented group must keep the standard measure, while the unhurried group must support the former. I put forth this claim for Thai Buddhism which I see the congruence. Other Theravāda-based Buddhism may also conform to the pattern, but I do not want to extrapolate outside my tradition. Milos Hubina, my adviser of the thesis, have a different view on ritual practice in Thai Buddhist culture. He sees that the unorthodox rituals (karmic manipulating ritual for example) can make people ‘good Buddhists’ by internalizing the understanding of karma20 which is inconceivable to discern it intellectually.21 In ritualizing karma, the Buddha “turned the intentional act into a magical act determining in a non-obvious causal way the agent’s rebirths.”22 That is the reason why “non-canonical rituals emerges as a systematic necessity for anchoring kamma in cultural context”23 by connecting “supernatural (counterintuitive) concepts with everyday reality.”24 Since I have a different view on karma, and my concern is not on that kind of rituals as well as the supernatural concepts, I reserve my comment on these points. To my curiosity, I really wonder how an ‘inconceivable’ concept can be internalized by a “non-obvious causal way.” Capturing a mysterious concept with a mysterious tool is a double mystery to me. I share with my adviser nonetheless on the point that religious concepts are not a logically consistent system, thus understanding of religious ideas 20 Hubina 21 p.

55 22 p. 59 23 p. 63 24 p. 67

2017, p. 52

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12. Implications of the results should come from the ‘action-representation.’25 That supports my position that Buddhism is a practical religion (or better, a way of living), not a metaphysical way of thinking. And ritual is the essential part of Buddhist practice, for both monastics and laity. (e) Ritual is a cultural tool.

From what we have learned so far, I should address the problem of what really ritual is all about. From the view that culture is like a toolkit26 , ritual is one of the tools in that set. Etiquette is also one of those, suitably regarded as a small ritual in the same way as a small hammer to a big one. Ritual is neutral and domain-independent. It can be used in various situations for a variety of purposes with its marked characteristics described earlier in Part I. What is the main use of ritual? For all tools have their specific use, hammer for pounding for example, ritual likewise has the main function in setting a special circumstance in which a certain purpose unable to be done in ordinary situation can be accomplished. I call this use of ritual ‘framing.’ The idea is in fact not far from setting things apart as proposed by Catherine Bell—a matter of “value-laden distinctions.”27 But my focus is not on value distinction as we often find in the sacred-profane dichotomy. Rather, ritual simply frames a situation by imposing its form and rules to make things done, for whatever goal it might have. And a substantial effect of that framing proposed by my thesis is the constitution of certain reality. This reality is not discerned by intellectual understanding, but rather by taking for granted in a form of practice. That is the most general idea about ritual that I have reached at the end of my journey. It is quite simple and good-looking in my minimalist point of view. By the idea above, Buddhist ritual can mean any special circumstance that, with its own form and rules, is set to achieve a particular goal in Buddhist domain. To gain more sense, also consider my definition of ‘religion’ and ‘Buddhism’ in Chapter 14. (f) Discourses are beyond individual control. 25 Hubina

2017, p. 67 1986 27 Bell 1992, p. 90 26 Swidler

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The last implication I want to mention in this chapter is about the notion of discourse itself. By understanding how discourse works, we can see that any point of view has its own logic based on discourses it created. This includes my own discourses articulated in this book. I am very careful to say that some particular views are wrong just because we use different measures. However, I do not go so far to be a relativist as most postmodern thinkers are alleged. We may have a different way of thinking and interpreting the data, but the facts can be checked empirically. We can criticized the way data are collected and the quality of them, but it is not fair to criticize the way researchers use the data to create their discourse. Discourse has this personal dimension, because we all have different pre-structures of understanding (see Appendix E). If it is relativistic, it will be in that way. In this individual level, discourse can be changed, if related facts are changed, or less often thinking mechanism is changed. But for a large-scale discourse like religion, it is beyond an individual control. It can happen in a very radical case like reformation or revolution, Martin Luther and the rise of the Protestant, for example. My very point is here. It is not all about manipulation. Meritmaking is not that monks exploit laypeople or vice versa. The discourse of merit-making is not controlled by anyone. It evolves and settles into this equilibrial state by its own right, and it can be changed in the future. Discourse is ‘super-individual,’ Siegfried Jäger remarks, “everybody ‘knits along’ at producing discourse.”28 Thinking about fashion can give us a similar picture. An innovation is hardly able to change the fashion trend. It is about collective agreement, and it has constraints. Not everything can be applied to the fashion world, and different cultures have their own limit of acceptance. Giving is crucial in the Buddhist world, like clothes. Merit-making is a form of that expression which has the Buddhist doctrine as a constraint. It also incorporates other elements to make it more useful or worth doing. Some innovative breakthrough can happen and get into the trend such as the transference of merit. But it is not any individual, a monk or layperson, who can change the trend single-handedly.29 28 Jäger 29 See

2001, p. 37 also Bell 1992, p. 180

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12. Implications of the results However, manipulation is still seen occasionally, here and there. Some monks eagerly encourage donors to give away their possessions as much as they can, not just enough for the living. And some monks hoard their materials as if they were a merchant. And some of them really do a trade with their properties. Some people carelessly do the offerings. Sometimes they give useless articles. Sometimes they give too much. (Too little giving is not a problem as far as I see, because if the article is really needed people will help together to acquire it.) That is to say, people concern with their giving more than the consequence of that. And this can cause a serious problem when monks have or deal with too many assets, as we have seen in the headlines occasionally. These things can happen. But, I maintain, it is not about the discourse of merit-making per se. They are abuses of the discourse which have to be considered by their context. We can find this kind of abuse in every discourse operating in the social level. And if you have a substantial power, you can abuse it in a considerable degree. You can even create a new discourse to substitute the old one. There are a number of concrete examples of this kind of abuse in Thai society, but it is not suitable to mention here.

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13. Methodological assessment and suggestions As I stated earlier, my primary concern in this thesis is methodology, and what I have used here is not a stock method. I started with the nature of the problem. My main question can be reframed and generalized as “How to understand a ritual comprehensively?” By ‘comprehensively’ I mean not from a particular perspective, but from several relevant perspectives as much as possible. My method has roughly gone like this: (a) define the ritual (b) roughly classify the ritual (c) break down the ritual’s components and analyze them (d) develop a model for comprehensive analysis (e) analyze the ritual with the model (f) assess the analysis The main parts of my work are on the conceptual framework which is articulated in Part I and the appendices. Although directly defining ‘ritual’ is not my approach, I obtain a definite frame of reference by forming some criteria to identify it. I thus have a clear picture in mind what my ‘ritual’ looks like. That is crucial to the further implementation. If I had used different criteria, ruling out etiquette and mere conforming to certain rules from being a ritual, for example, I could reach a totally different conclusion. Hence, it is good to have a clear picture of the subject studied from the start. To the theoretical part, there are some issue worth mentioning here. In describing an activity as a ritual, it must end up somewhere with some tangible idea, not a vague one. That is why I am quite uncomfortable with Catherine Bell on the view that she denies the universality of ritual that has a particular strategy of ritualization.1 To Bell, formalism, repetition, or traditionalism 1 Bell

2005, p. 7853

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13. Methodological assessment and suggestions is not “intrinsic qualities of ritual practices.”2 If I had followed this, I would be doomed at the beginning, because there will be no criterion to tell ritual apart from other activities. So, I follow my hunch to maintain formalism as the crucial characteristic of ritual. Despite the fact that I accept the idea that the main function of ritual is to set things apart3 , I see this description too generalized that the clear distinction from other kind of activities is still difficult to reached, because every activity set itself apart from other ones by its purpose and value given. It has no use as an ritual indicator, so to speak. Despite its clumsiness, classifying ritual into religious, magical, and social is helpful to make my point, because it helps us to see how complex a ritual can be. Breaking down ritual components is important, because without this we hardly see small but significant items which are mostly overlooked. And we can see the picture precisely to its minor details. Developing the comprehensive model is the most difficult task of all. Without this model nothing makes sense. It is comprehensive because the model draw various fields of study into consideration. To my thought, it is in religious studies, or ritual studies in particular, that this kind of analysis should be applied. Because, first, religious studies has no methodology of its own, we have to resort to other fields’ methods; and second, understanding from one perspective has a very limited view on the subject. Expanding our perspective by utilizing other perspectives can bring us deeper understanding. Now comes the phase of the application. Merit-making as the case study here is appropriate for a number of reasons. It prevents me from overworking with the field data. I can use myself as the field, for I have enough knowledge about the subject. It can be seen as a participant observation with a long period (8 years at least) of fieldwork. Besides, merit-making has a moderate complexity, not too simple, and not to complicated. It is easy to deal with. That is an important point that determines the success of the project, I think. Identifying merit-making as a ritual is easy, since it has obvious characteristics. Classifying merit-making as religious ritual is more awkward, because its functions overlap all categories. I 2 Bell 3 Bell

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2005, p. 7853 1992, p. 90

13.1. On cognitive dimension have reasons to stand my assertion nonetheless. Analyzing the structural components of merit-making is another elaborate part of the work. Even though not everything is used in the further analysis, it is very helpful to have all details and see their connections to one another.

13.1. On cognitive dimension The most substantial part of the analysis is that of applying the comprehensive model. There are some remarks I want to mention here. First, cognitive dimension of merit-making has low applicability. This can reflect the nature of Buddhist ritual in general. Buddhist rituals try to minimize emotional expression. This will be more obvious when we consider meditation as a daily ritual. Antonio Damasio, a renowned neuroscientist, sees emotions and feelings play a significant role in regulating our life (homeostasis). He sees that Buddhism is marked by the recognition of homeostatic insecurity when desires cannot be fulfilled perpetually. To overcome this futility of the effort, the Buddha sidestepped “self entirely in exchange for the very experience of being.”4 By this account, emotions have a close link to the notion of self which Buddhism tries to eliminate. That can explain why emotions have little role in Buddhist rituals. On memory, merit-making does contribute to some remembering, but as a rote without understanding. Monks can remember many Pali passages used in the ceremony, but hardly understand them, and sometimes they can recite them wrongly without any serious consequence. Likewise, people can recite the precepts in Pali by heart, but some do not know what they really mean. Even some passages they use every time, the paritta request for example, few people can recite it without a leader. That is to say, merit-making and all other Buddhist rituals are not designed for memory aid with a substantial purpose. My adviser suggests that it is not the contents of ritual are significantly memorized, rather it is the ritual itself is memorized (or internalized) which contributes to the transmission of religious practice. However, I am not sure whether memorizing just the form of practice, which is mostly culture-bound, can be re4 Damasio

2018, p. 176

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13. Methodological assessment and suggestions garded as doctrinal mode of transmission in Whitehouse’s sense. I nonetheless accept the idea of ritual internalization by the way of practice as I emphasize in the last dimension, but by that account it uses the whole body to assimilate rather than just memory. The effect on consciousness is also low in merit-making. Is this true for other Buddhist rituals? I would like to say ‘Yes’ to this question, but for some who hold that the altered state of consciousness is the hallmark of Buddhist ultimate goal may say ‘No.’ I have no argument on this issue, just some remarks. In my view, Buddhist wholesome life is more than just a mental ecstasy—regarded by Ilkka Pyysiäinen as a result of abnormalities in neuro-circuitry correlating with religious thought and experience.5 It is about the integrity of our being. If someone insists that that state of mind comes after the ecstasy, I question that. If it is so, using psychoactive drugs6 might be a better choice for a shortcut. I assert again that there is no shortcut in Buddhism or any spiritual path. The most problematic cognitive element in merit-making, for me, is the counterintuitive, aka the supernatural or the superhuman agents, for a typical example. According to Pascal Boyer, religion is a by-product of our evolution; “[t]here is no religious instinct.”7 It is our inference from the “hyperactive agent detection”8 that contributes to our religious propensity. By this view, the counterintuitive elements come first, and religion is created after that. Is this superhuman concept essential to religion? The answer resounds ‘Yes’ by many scholars, tracing back to E. B. Tylor’s minimum definition of religion: “the belief in Spiritual Beings.”9 Also, Spiro defined religion in his 1966 article as “an institution consisting of culturally patterned interaction with culturally postulated superhuman beings.”10 Interestingly, we find “culturally postulated superhuman agent” is used again in Lawson and McCauley’s definition of religious ritual.11 Why are these scholars so fond of this peculiar concept? 5 Pyysiäinen

2003, p. 142 Watts 2013, for example 7 Boyer 2001, p. 329 8 p. 145 9 Tylor 1920, p. 424 10 Spiro 2004, p. 96 11 Lawson and McCauley 1990, p. 176 6 See

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13.1. On cognitive dimension I suspect that it is not the supernatural concepts per se that are crucial to religion. If it is so natural to believe in the supernatural, why are some (or many) immune to such tendency? Boyer also thinks of this but provides no answer.12 There might be a kind of counter-supernatural module in those people’s brain. That is my fancy. I would call it scientific literacy. Some reasonable ‘counterintuitive’ concepts are worth believing than other even if we cannot really understand it. For a simple example, a huge iron-made plane can fly in the air by air pressure—how amazing! (Many weirder examples can be found in modern physics). In the coming ages, the line between what are natural and supernatural will be blurred. In the line of Boyer’s ideas, how religion should be identified then?, for one day we may able to accurately read others’ mind, see and hear things thousand miles away, know everything as far as human knowledge goes, and live forever.13 Here is my line of reasoning. By a lack of elucidating knowledge, cultures need to posit some explanation to be taken for granted as truth. The reason can be various, for instance, to unify beliefs, to quench curiosities, to solidify the group, to control people, or to sustain the ruling power. A culture may entertain many supernatural ideas, but there are some or only one that will be taken seriously with high value. This can mark the religious realm apart from the ordinary one. That is what ‘culturally postulated’ means. Our cognitive mechanism just provides us the initial state, not the final outcome. One crucial reason that a supernatural concept, such as a powerful superhuman being, is postulated to be a religious entity is that it can suppress contradictions or challenges, like “Kings do no wrong.” By this view, religion has a close tie to politics from the beginning. This is one possibility why the supernatural matter. But I do not see Buddhism in that way, at least in the original state, because Buddhism was born with a renouncing attitude (samaṇa) by getting rid of all social bonds and living as sheer mendicants. With all these reasons, I therefore reject any necessary relation between the counterintuitive and religion, par12 Boyer

2001, p. 297 Transhumanism in Wikipedia; and see a critical response to ‘counterintuitive’ in Engler and Gardiner 2017, p. 239 13 See

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13. Methodological assessment and suggestions ticularly Buddhism. By this stance, I do not deny there is no such superhuman beings in Buddhism. They are far more a lot of them described in the canon. Rather, I assert that they are not the determining factor. We can subtract all supernatural elements out of the Buddhist doctrine, yet the substantial teaching is untouched and still makes sense (even better, I suppose). I think the main reason that supernatural beings are drawn into religious landscape is about the problem of demarcation—how to differentiate religious things from non-religious ones. That is the main concern when Spiro (2004) defines ‘religion.’ We need a clear boundary to identify whether things under consideration belong to the relevant category or not. I accept this supernatural concern as a strategic methodology. But I have an inclination to think that ‘religion’ is tightly bound with ‘supernatural beings’ when the word was firstly used. It is therefore very hard to decouple the concepts. That may explain why once scholars wondered whether Buddhism and Confucianism should be regarded as a religion or not. When we try to make a one-size-fits-all definition, problems usually arise (I also try this myself, see Chapter 14). Using one definition rules out other possible definitions as well. That is why the enterprise of defining ‘religion’ always raises controversies. One solution of this problem, proposed by Kocku von Stuckrad, is that meta-theories of religion, “the formation of meanings about thing religious”14 , should be addressed instead of theories of religion. By this view, the problem is shifted from “what makes a religion religion?” to “how/why people regard it as religion?” To answer this kind of question, we need an integrative theory of religious studies, claims von Stuckrad, “that no longer depends on any definition of religion” and “should take the form of a theory of discourse.”15 That can be an explanation how my study has gone so far, but my focus is on ritual rather than religion itself. Besides, that can explain why I reject McCauley and Lawson’s view on efficacy of ritual which they attribute to the competent perception of ritual form16 —the proximity to the superhuman agents. Their model fails to explain Buddhist ritual in general, and also fails to explain non-religious rituals, such as Thai wed14 von

Stuckrad 2003, p. 262, emphases in original 263, emphases in original 16 McCauley and Lawson 2002, p. 113 15 p.

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13.1. On cognitive dimension ding ceremony. My view on the efficacy of the ritual is likewise about ritual form, not superhuman-dependent form, but its very stipulated form. That is to say, people regard a certain ritual as effective if it conforms to the form stipulated by authority (discourse). Superhuman agents can be a part of the form but it is far from being the critical factor as McCauley and Lawson see. In merit making and other Buddhist rituals, the Buddha, a divine entity, is used as a part of the ritual form. The Buddha can be left out by some situation, and the ritual runs normally. It may look unusual for most people, but it is still valid. (It will be interesting to conduct a research on this ‘the Buddha’ factor, as well as the ‘monk’ factor mentioned below, to support or refuse my idea.) Monks may be seen as a more crucial factor in Buddhist ceremonies, but they also a part of the ritual form. In the chaotic world today, it is difficult now to tell a genuine monk from a bogus one. I have often heard that some monks have committed the pārājikas, the highest offenses17 , yet they continue their monastic life as usual, or in some cases get re-ordained (illegally) again in a remote area. In this case, those who offend the critical rules are not a monk anymore in principle, but in practice if people do not know or do not care, they still hold the monk status, and any ceremony conducted by them is regarded as effective. Monks themselves therefore are not the critical factor in Buddhist ritual by this account. What is crucial is the form itself, as Ilkka Pyysiäinen notes that “ritual is successful only on condition that it is properly performed.”18 Following Ockham’s razor, the principle of parsimonious explanation, I think this simple requirement on ritual efficacy, is more understandable and applicable than the fixed superhumandependent one. It can explain magical rituals as well in the same manner. For example, if the form states that the physical contact is not required (for some magical remote manipulation), the ritual is still counted as effective without any contact. This does not lead to the conclusion that cognitive analysis in ritual is worthless. It is important to take this dimension into our consideration, for today we have a lot of knowledge in this field. But for studying Buddhism, a more elucidating explanation is still needed. 17 Rhys

Davids and Oldenberg 1899, pp. 3–5 2003, p. 89

18 Pyysiäinen

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13. Methodological assessment and suggestions Now I propose an alternative view for cognitive approach to religion without directly resorting to the counterintuitive. I do not intend to establish a position, but just to show a possibility in a less supernatural-dependent way. It may be called aesthetic approach to religion. The main point is that we all love story, or more precisely there is a benefit or it is adaptive for us to have a fictional experience.19 At first, it might come from gossip, a ‘vocal grooming’ in humans, in exchanging information, which plays a major role in the social relation20 , and for Robin Dunbar it also contributes to the evolution of language. Knowing that who can be trusted, who is a liar, who are friends, who are enemies, gives us “obvious strategic advantages in the game of life.”21 Gossip hence has the survival advantage in the beginning. Then it becomes entertaining when we have a better way to tell stories as we can see in most gossip incidents today. We can suppose that exaggerating the information is often the case, because our brain is sensitive to irregular patterns. When told without any counterchecking, story is likely to go wild. Unusual elements added to the story (but not too bizarre, after Boyer) make it appealing and memorable. We love fantasy by throwing ourselves into a imaginative scenario. This can enable our cognitive system to experience “foresight, planning, and empathy” that can rehearse us for “potential lives and realities” which we have not actually experienced before.22 Reading novels and watching movies are our familiar examples. It is a cognitive simulation, a virtual reality. At some point, particularly when the story has been told for a long time and has a great impact, the fantasy becomes real, or regarded as real. Ancient epics like Iliad, Odyssey, or Mahabharata can be a good example. With some historical facts plus breathtaking stories, a religion comes to life, and it serves other function than entertaining—reality declaration and life regulation. A relevant example in Thailand is the story of Somdet To (magical monk) and Mae Nak Phrakhanong (lovelorn ghost) described by Justin McDaniel (2011). 19 Gazzaniga

2008, p. 220 Dunbar 1996, p. 78 21 Pinker 1998, p. 540 22 Tooby and Cosmides 2001, p. 23 20 R.

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13.1. On cognitive dimension The power of this story can establish a number of religiocultural activities. And this is, McDaniel believes, “a ‘Thai way’ of being Buddhist.”23 This story-based approach can explain all religions in the world, in both the main cultures and sub-cultures, I suppose, because every religion has its background stories, which are mostly spectacular. John Tooby and Leda Cosmides, who do not mention religion in this research area, asserts that “[i]nvolvement in fictional, imagined worlds appears to be a cross-culturally universal, speciestypical phenomenon.”24 No matter how probable the idea sounds, it is unlikely to be accepted by most religious people, because religion is downplayed into just like a fiction; even though there is no way in principle to distinguish (religious) symbolism from a mere fantasy.25 Why does not Mickey Mouse establish a religion, but God does? (If the concept of religion is reframed, I think, Mickey Mouse can also be regarded as a religion for children.) There is something more than the superhuman concept that makes the difference. My answer is that it is not in our brain, but rather in the normative system of a society that values something over other things else. In the aesthetic domain, we can say that they belong to different genres. God is more real than Mickey Mouse in the same way that (historical) drama looks more real than cartoon. They are all fictive characters with a story nonetheless. To prevent misunderstanding, I should note that imaginary does not mean worthless or insignificant. Fiction can teach us many things and can cause a significant change in one’s personality.26 We learn emotional repertoire through stories. Martha Nussbaum says, stories express the structure and dynamics of human emotions—“once internalized, they shape the way life feels and looks.”27 Reading a good novel is a good way to find a good testimony.

23 McDaniel

2011, p. 15 and Cosmides 2001, p. 7 25 Atran 1998, p. 602 26 Djikic et al. 2009 27 Nussbaum 1988, p. 226 24 Tooby

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13.2. On bodily dimension The bodily dimension seems to play a little role in merit-making. To other kind of ritual, this dimension may be more significant. However, the little use of body movement in Buddhist rituals can tell us a lot about the nature of the religion. I do not suggest that the body are not important in Buddhism. In the contrary, the body is the center of Buddhist practice. It is the ground of our actions. The discipline, as well as meditation, starts with bodily control. The body is therefore crucial to ritual analysis. It is Buddhism that values the composed body makes this dimension less apparent. Apart from bodily metaphor, verbal metaphor can also be found in most rituals. In merit-making, we mostly find this in chanting, particularly in blessing. The main use of this metaphor is for magical purpose, which has a limited application in meritmaking. Verbal and bodily metaphor analysis can be more useful in other magical rituals. For example, in tadkam (cutting the karma) or kaekam (fixing the karma) ritual, karma is understood as a stick or a string or a tree that can be cut off, or a mechanical device that can be fixed. Or in nonlong (lying in a coffin), the acting of dying is done metaphorically. A more interesting pursuit, to me, is the study of metaphors in Buddhist discourses, because we have plenty of them. For instance, the Buddhist soteriological endeavor is said to be like crossing a river from this shore to the other. This metaphor can significantly shape the way Buddhists perceive the religious ideal and the path. If the metaphor is changed, the whole conception can be also changed. This sounds very promising to me. By this view, metaphor can somehow lead to a kind of social transformation.28 Another part of bodily analysis is on its role contributing to the efficacy of the ritual, particularly its magical function. The analysis of forward and backward contagion proposed by Sørensen (2007) is very helpful in identifying magical elements used in ritual. This aspect of bodily dimension is indispensable to any ritual analysis. In Buddhist ritual, contact does not always imply magic. It also serves as a criterion in Vinaya consideration; markedly when food is offered to monks, an intervening contact 28 See

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Wright 2006, for example

13.3. On communicative and performative dimension can make the giving invalid. Other bodily concern unincorporated to my model can be crucial to some ritual, like inflictions on the human body, circumcision and the sun dance for example. Addressing this particular instance may need an additional conceptual background. This can assert that the body and ritual are an indispensable pair as Grimes puts it.29 But in my case, it happens that the body is used in a subtle way. Bodily analysis in any ritual is therefore essential.

13.3. On communicative and performative dimension The communicative and performative dimension are important to be steppingstones to the upper dimensions. We will not understand discourses without knowing that what happen in the representational or symbolic level. Analyzing signs used in various modes (icon, index, and symbol) is important to all rituals. Together with the actions these signs play part, we can see what the rituals say and do. There is a part worth mentioning. In the language component of the ritual, most recitations used have a magical purpose, particularly in parittas which use their metaphorical meaning as a source of the power. In the suttas used in the memorial chanting, they are apt to be a teaching tool, but monks hardly use them that way. People thus regard them as magical spells like the parittas. That is to say, even though there are linguistic elements in the ritual, they are not language in communicative mode, but magical performative (not included in the taxonomies discussed in Appendix D). This is interesting, because taxonomies of illocutionary acts proposed by linguists do not cover this aspect of language use. What do we do when we cast a spell? It sounds like we are making a wish, so commisives is close to this act. But, I think, it is stronger than just anticipation. The act really intends to make things happen as such, whether it will be successful or not is not the case. Therefore, I suggest that a new illocutionary act should be classified—conjuratives might be a suitable candidate. 29 Grimes

2014, p. 306

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13. Methodological assessment and suggestions Another part of the performative dimension incorporated in the model is the exhibiting aspect of ritual. This feature of ritual is often overlooked. I find it helpful in giving us a new perspective. This exhibiting function is closely linked to the bodily dimension, because it happens mostly on bodily expression. Merit-making interestingly has this dramatic aspect. I think most rituals occurring in public arena also have this aspect. So, it should be drawn into consideration when a ritual is analyzed.

13.4. On discursive and constitutive dimension The last two dimensions are the most substantial parts of the model. The discursive dimension incorporates fragmented data obtained from the previous analyses to show how merit-making postulates some realities. That is the main point of this thesis. Finally, the constitutive dimension gives us a final picture of the whole analysis. Without these two dimensions, any analysis of ritual will not be completed, because the main function of most rituals, including merit-making, operates on social level. I should have some remarks on discourse analysis. I am not sure that my use of discourse and the way I analyze it can be legitimately called ‘discourse analysis’ or not. Although I have some linguistic analysis in the part of the language used in the ritual and the performatives, I did not treat them as most discourse analysts do, as mentioned by magical performative above. If discourse analysis has two poles with a different emphasis, (a) to concrete texts, and (b) to institutional practices.30 My use of discourse clearly falls into the latter side, meaning that the whole ritual is treated as a collection of discourses. This can be called ‘discourse analysis’ according to Kocku von Stuckrad who sees that discourse analysis addresses “the relationship among communicational practices and the (re)production of systems of meaning, or orders of knowledge ….”31 Yet, I am still uneasy with that, because ritual is more than a way of expression and enactment. It is also a way of internalization, acquaintance, or cultivation of dispositions. Although it has an overlapping 30 Hyland 31 von

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and Paltridge 2011, p. 1 Stuckrad 2013, p. 15; von Stuckrad 2014, p. 11

13.4. On discursive and constitutive dimension conceptual area with discourse, the notion of practice give us a better understanding in ritual. Discourse analysis thus plays only a part of my methodology as one piece of my jigsaw. Furthermore, a derivative method called “critical discourse analysis” is virtually invisible in my analysis, not as I saw it in the early stage of my development. That is because I do not see the connection between merit-making and power in that way (a more political concern of ritual see Kertzer, 1988, which describes ritual as “an important molder of political beliefs,”32 ). Besides, I discard the notion of ideology altogether. This by no means implies that critical analysis of ritual is irrelevant or incompatible. I did assimilate some notion of ideology in my analyses, but in a subtle way. For me, ritual works like myth, in Barthes’s sense, thus ideology. It is “the ‘naturalization’ of the symbolic order.”33 When we perform a ritual, we do it naturally, like myth that we experience it as ‘innocent speech,’ Barthes notes, “not because its intentions are hidden—if they were hidden, they could not be efficacious—but because they are naturalized” (p. 130).34 Slavoj Žižek aptly illustrates by mentioning Louis Althusser who repeats after Pascal that “kneel down, and you shall believe.” Žižek explains the logic of this as “kneel down and you shall believe that you knelt down because of your belief —that is, your following the ritual is an expression/effect of your inner belief; in short, the ‘external’ ritual performatively generates its own ideological foundation.”35 If this account sounds familiar, it is because we have already incorporated this perspective into our analysis in the last two dimensions without mentioning ideology. The notion of discourse and practice is used instead. And I think that my model is still applicable to rituals with a clear political concern without the vague notion of ideology. The clearer concepts should be discussed instead, such as ideas, social position, power, or distortion.36 I suggest that a development of “(critical) ritual discourse analysis” is interesting by its own right, but I have taken so broad approach that to narrow it down to that focus is irrelevant to my overall goal. For those who have this focus, methodological 32 Kertzer

1988, p. 95 1994, p. 11 34 Barthes 1991, p. 130 35 Ziz̆ek 1994, pp. 12–3, emphases in original 36 Woolard 1998, pp. 5–7; see also Appendix E 33 Ziz̆ek

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13. Methodological assessment and suggestions development for that purpose is still promising. A kin method of critical discourse analysis called mediated discourse analysis (MDA) can be helpful and more relevant to ritual than other kind of this methodological group, because the main focus of MDA is social action rather than discourse or language.37 And MDA also sees that the power relations in society are grounded in practice, not just in discursive form.38 For me, the account of the method by Ron Scollon is quite technical. It takes time to understand and make a use, so I put aside this method and develop my own. It is worth trying nonetheless for those who seek for a robust framework. And for those who find my model of analysis helpful in some way but lacking some features to address a particular ritual, I encourage them to modify the model and put it into test in various circumstances.39 Furthermore, my approach to the problem integrates a critical stance and keeps away from any form of dogmatism. As Kant puts it as follows: Dogmatism is the pretension that we can make progress by means of no more than a pure cognition from concepts (i.e., philosophical cognition) in accordance with principles … without inquiring into the manner and the right by which reason has arrived at them.40 This attitude is amount to ‘reflexive critique’ called by Gavin Flood in our time.41 One should be “ready continuously to call into question the very ground on which [the reason/approach] stands.”42 This means that I also see my whole articulation as a discourse which is open to be scrutinized likewise in turn, even by myself in a subsequent time, for the reason that doing a discourse analysis is “always an attribution of meaning that is itself part of the discourse.”43 This attitude should be also adopted by scholars of the field. 37 Scollon

2001, p. 140 141 39 For an example of the application of the framework to a magical ritual, see Rampungkit 2019. 40 Kant 1996, p. 34; from the preface to the second edition of Critique of Pure Reason 41 Flood 1999, p. 4 42 von Stuckrad 2003, p. 268 43 von Stuckrad 2016, p. 216 38 p.

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13.4. On discursive and constitutive dimension In conclusion, My strategy is simple. First, breaking everything down into small pieces. Second, trying to figure out their relations to one another. And third, composing them back with new perspectives that give us more understanding. We have a toy car. We decompose it piece by piece. By so doing, we get the first step of understanding. Then we compose its components back and get the second step of understanding. Finally, we realize that it is not just a plain car. It can be changed into a robot. Now, we get the third, deepest step of understanding. This sounds easy conceptually, but practically it is painstaking to implement.

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14. Final reflections Let me review my thesis’s title to make the final conclusion. The thesis on which this book is based is named A Postulated Reality: A Study of Buddhist Discourses in Thai Merit-Making Rituals. I have to admit that when I named my thesis I was not sure how it would come out. My main focus at that time was all about discourse in which I was engrossed. I wanted to show that in merit-making some reality is postulated by Buddhist discourses operating in that ritual. The overall result is in accordance with the title in most respects. However, what I emphasize in the end was not in my intention at the beginning. That is the notion of practice, which I find that it can reflect a more accurate picture of the activity. That is to say, merit-making is not about the reality per se. It constitutes a field that allows a social practice to happen by which the reality is taken for granted. What is real does not matter as long as we live our life in the practice. And ritual is the best arena for such a practice. That leads me to the conclusion that meritmaking is an equilibrium between the ideal destination and the real circumstances. The two need each other, and merit-making is an optimum meeting point. It is a gradual way of the Buddhist training to a wholesome life. It is a way of living, particularly in Thai culture. For a broader consideration, let me tackle the definition of religion in the light of discursive approach we have learned so far. I define ‘religion’ as a set of discourses (i.e., knowledge) made out of religious texts. To prevent circularity, I define ‘religious texts’ as statements unquestionably regarded as truth concerning an ideal living. By ‘unquestionably’ I mean either ‘faithfully’ or ‘blindly’ or ‘by understanding’ or ‘by taking for granted.’ For a matter of fact, ‘coercively’ could be added to the list, but I shun that manner because religion alone without political/military power cannot impose beliefs upon people. A subtle persuasive means can be the case nonetheless.

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My use of unquestionableness here seems to echo Roy Rappaport’s idea of sancity1 , but I do not go that far to exclusively mean the state that is “objectively unverifiable and absolutely unfalsifiable.” It can be, though, but even it is falsified, it can be regarded as truth anyway. That is my point of unquestionableness. In my use, the word ‘religious’ cannot stand alone with a definite meaning, it must modify something which can have a variety of meanings. For example, ‘religious person’ does not means in the same way as ‘religious texts’ or ‘religious places.’ We have to define them case by case. And ‘religion’ is more or less an empty signifier. In real world we have to be more specific, because there is no religion as a conception. This definition can solve the problem of demarcation to some extent, for all religions have that kind of texts, oral or written. They are regarded as religious because they are accepted by authoritative agreement rather than relevant to other account of truth. The key point is that religious texts must answer the existential problem—What is meant to be a human being?—by providing the basic account of being, and identifying the ideal goal, as well as the way of living according to that goal. This implies that religious texts have two main components: (a) descriptive tenets, and (b) normative guideline. The former postulates the ideal goal, and the latter provides the direction to that goal. Like ‘religion,’ the word ‘ideal’ is also an empty signifier. It can be whatsoever the authority defines: a divine status, superhuman power, complete extinction, oneness of nature, a unified collective body, or just an ordinary happy person. Some religions stress on tenets, e.g., Greek religion, some stress on norms, e.g., Confucianism, but all religions have both components. If not, I exclude them from being a religion. What then is the difference between religious texts and philosophical ones? The nature of philosophical texts is that they are always disputable, not as religious texts. When the Analects of Confucius is argued intellectually, it is a philosophical text. When it is enacted by practices unquestionably, it is a religious text. The status of a religious text can be therefore changeable, or partly accepted. Likewise, the treatment of Communist Manifesto can make communism either falls into both categories (see also the notion of ‘secular’ below). 1 Rappaport

1999, p. 281

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14. Final reflections Supernatural agency is not ruled out by these definitions, as long as it is a part of the texts either in descriptive or normative components. I see it as one of many strategies we can use to promote religious ideas and practices. The most advantage of any supernatural concept is that it makes unquestionable acceptance easier by resisting any counterchecking and falsification, as well as it can suppress oppositions and sustain authoritative power by making the living guideline a mandatory order (tons of evidence can be seen in the Middle Ages). The plus side is that it can have a significant effect on emotions and motivation of the adherents, and it can hold their group together effectively. It is the best way known to us for making a religion. That is the real power of the counterintuitive and vague explanation (see a remark about obscure explanation below). Some may argue that it is in our natural propensity to posit such supernatural entity. That is why it always works to make a religion out of it, or to have some elements of it. But it is by no means the only way. Another problem looms. What is the difference between religious texts and the legal ones then? We can put all religious concerns into the law and enact it: the ideal, the path, the supernatural, precepts, and whatsoever. Yet, the law seems not to make a religion. Perhaps, the legal enactment normally uses coercion rather than voluntary consent? In fact, some religions also use force to convert people. Or, the law primarily addresses state issues, whereas religion addresses individual issues? Or, the law is pure conventional, does not have any divine origin? This can be difficult for me. In stead of regressing to the supernatural concepts or functionalism, I solve the problem this way. The key distinct aspect, I maintain, is coercion. Religion is primarily based on consent rather than force; and religion grows like an organism (mutated sometimes). In the early stage of a religion, people embrace it voluntarily, unlike the law to which people are hardly subject by their free choice. A baby religion uses no force, otherwise it does not survive. Once the religion infiltrates political power, or power knows how to use religion politically, it may use force to make the compliance, or may not. Now the religion may look more like a kind of law. To differentiate between the two is only done by their growth pattern. To the full-fledged religion, it is really difficult to tell apart from other similar categories.

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Yet another nuance of problem, what is the opposite of religion? We generally use ‘secularity’ for this sense, or ‘secular’ for ‘non-religious.’ To me, ‘secular’ have no meaning of its own, and it has to be defined case by case like ‘religious.’ In a particular context, for example, ‘secular’ means ‘non-monastic’ which is not the same as ‘non-religious.’ We can use ‘secular’ to mean simply ‘not religious’—outside the set of religious things. Secular texts mean simply not religious texts. If ‘secular’ has a particular meaning, it will be difficult to differentiate from being ‘religious.’ Hence, ‘secular religion’ is an oxymoron—“not religious religion” means nothing. But it may not be as meaningless as it seems when Steven Pinker writes in his 2018 book: “Left-wing and right-wing political ideologies have themselves become secular religions, providing people with a community of like-minded brethren, a catechism of sacred beliefs ….”2 Communism and capitalism may come to mind as an example. What Pinker means by ‘religion’ and ‘secular’ here are different from mine. For him, I think, ‘religion’ means whatever that gives us the sense of sacredness, particular the supernatural. And ‘secular’ excludes that supernatural source, thus ‘secular religions’ possibly means any non-supernatural concept that give us the sense of sacredness. Nationalism and humanism can be an additional example. In his 2017 book, Stephen Batchelor uses ‘secular Buddhism’ in the title. One meaning he uses is in the sense I have just described. I prefer the term naturalistic Buddhism over that one, because to my criterion ‘secular’ Buddhism means ‘not religious’ Buddhism which renders Buddhism a kind of philosophy, if not totally meaningless. However, to another meaning of ‘secular’ he traces to its Latin root saeculum which means ‘this age’ or ‘this generation.’3 By that he does not mean Buddhism of this generation, which sounds like a too strong claim, but rather Buddhism which concerns to this world. Despite its understandable, I see his use of the word as rhetoric in the same way that he uses ‘Buddhism 2.0.’ I also shun this kind of specific use of ‘secular’ even though it seems etymologically coherent. Pinker also uses quasi-religious ideology, e.g., greenism in environmental movement.4 This means that something can be ‘re2 Pinker

2018, p. 32, emphasis added 2017, p. 75 4 Pinker 2018, p. 122 3 Batchelor

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14. Final reflections ligious’ to some degree, or just looks ‘religious.’ When ‘religious’ is a matter of degree or can have a false representation, things go unintendedly complicated. Analyzing further the difference and relation between ‘ideology’ and ‘religion’ can be more entangled and formidable, because ‘ideology’ is equally a troublesome word. This perhaps costs another thesis to do so. The illustration here can show that religion is indeed an elusive concept, not because it seems to connect to or embrace everything, but rather ‘religion’ or ‘religious’ is a slippery signifier. Narrowing down the scope, I define ‘Buddhism’ as knowledge made out of Buddhist texts. Likewise, ‘Buddhist texts’ is defined as statements held to be said or endorsed by the historical Buddha or his followers who unquestionably delivered the truth. Yet, this kind of Buddhism does not exist anywhere. To be specific, I define ‘Thai Buddhism’ as knowledge made out of the Pali scriptures materialized as practices in Thai culture. We can find an instance of Thai Buddhism in the real world as I described in this book. By this stance, I assert firmly that religion and culture are inseparable—a religion can be only realized in a cultural sphere. There is no pure instance of religion in this sense. What we might call ‘pure Buddhism’—Buddhism as described in the canon—is a culturalized form of Buddhism in the past (plus some imaginary projection). We can study the Pali canon in order to master that matter, but not Buddhism as a religion. To understand a Buddhism, we have to study a living tradition in a living culture. Even if I can define ‘Thai Buddhism’ as such, I cannot point exactly what is the essential part of it. Thai Buddhism is still a collective term that cover a wide spectrum of beliefs and practices. As McDaniel puts it, “there is no core of Thai Buddhism.”5 By discursive approach, I thus define ‘religious studies’ as a field of studies concerning whatever regarded as ‘religious’ (see my treatment of ‘religious’ above). Religious matter is the object of study at the surface level. At a deeper level, the studies can incorporate a variety of concerns, such as theology, philology, history, anthropology, sociology, psychology, philosophy, or science, etc. By this view, Buddhist studies can be seen as a subfield of religious studies which puts its focus mainly on Buddhist matter. Religious studies thus has a bigger footing, and both can hold a 5 McDaniel

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2011, p. 15

different stand. Therefore, it should not be surprising that reading this book from Buddhist studies’ perspective can be disturbing for some. In this book, I have shown that in studying a religion, or a part of it, incorporating various perspectives can shed some light on neglected areas, then bring us more understanding of the subject. That is the conclusion of the whole thesis. Now I will use the final part to share my personal thoughts as a reflexive response to my work. It is not an argumentation, just an expression. For some philosophers and literary theorists, this thesis can be read as a form of cultural relativism or deconstruction of some sort. However, I have cautiously stayed clear of that extreme. Reality construction does not mean anything goes relatively. Reality is constructed upon our objective conditions. I myself see the work as a scientific study of religion, because every point I made comes from a strong likelihood suggested by data I incorporated. That is to say, if anyone carefully considers my data presented and processes them logically, a similar conclusion can be supposed. My practical concern is a meeting point between dry empiricism (some may call scientism) and (cultural) relativism. Empirical data are important; without them we see nothing. Cultural preferences are equally important; without them all things are meaningless. Put it another way, descriptive knowledge from science and normative knowledge from culture must go together. However, as a monk, I feel obliged to put more weight on the normative side. That makes me uneasy to any preordained projection of the world which rules out the human free will completely, particularly in the form of biological or neurological predeterminism. Although I do not deny natural proclivity, I put more concern on constraints that shape its expression. That shaper exists in culture as norms and rules, an arena that we can exercise our ‘free’ will. I think my ‘Buddhist’ view goes in this integrative manner. I accept scientific discourses as the basis of out physical reality, and our intersubjective discourses produced in the cultural realm as the basis of our social reality. With my scientific preference, I also defy any obscure explanation, the inconceivability of karma or the Buddha, for example. Such explanation leads to obscurantism. The statement like “the karmic law is always right, yet inexplicable” or “the Buddha knows everything, even the unknowability of his knowing” sounds hazardous to me. Whatever is obscure is vulnerable to be

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14. Final reflections exploited. That is the very problem. Do I propose a new interpretation of Buddhism, or even create a new Buddhism? For those who take this question seriously, I suggest rereading the whole thing again. Interpretations happen all the time. Buddhism is not even a concrete entity, let alone its durability. To use a question from literary critics, who should gain the benefits from the reading, the author or the readers? Who should gain the benefits from Buddhism? Many have already got advantages from this religion by various ways of interpretation. When we see a more liberating way to approach the Dhamma, why shouldn’t we go that way?

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Part IV.

Appendices

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A. Cognitive dimension of ritual In past few decades, the knowledge of human and animal cognition has thrived significantly by the progress of brain studies, particularly from neuro-imaging technology. Now we know more than antiquity could imagine. A few decades of discoveries trumps thousands year of knowledge in our age. Not only natural science is affected. In the social sciences and humanities, there is also no exception especially in the fields that engage a great deal with functions of human mind like psychology, linguistics, anthropology, sociology, or more closely to our attention, religious studies and ritual studies. Although cognitive studies of religion is not the primary concern in this thesis, it is unavoidable to get involved. Because it really makes a good sense when we explain human behaviors in the light of their biological background. Before Harvey Whitehouse ends his Inside the Cult, he endorses Dan Sperber’s concern that any social and cultural theory that does not involve the “micro-mechanisms of cognition and communication” will be incomplete.1 Totally agree Robert McCauley and Thomas Lawson.2 In my use here, cognitive dimension of ritual concerns mostly on human cognition, including emotions, that relates to ritual actions. Perspectives relevant to ritualization are largely drawn from evolutionary bio-psychology. The main concern of this dimension is the mind. Because of the complexity of cognitive studies of ritual, or religion in general, I have to choose some of them to recount here, just enough to understand the human mind when ritual is put into focus. I will start with biological bases on ritualization—the evolutionary result of natural selection. Then, psychological, in1 Whitehouse 2 McCauley

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1995, p. 220; Sperber 1985, pp. 78–9 and Lawson 2002, p. 104

cluding neurophysiological, explanations will be examined. And some important accounts of cognitive sciences of ritual will be drawn into focus. Behavioral patterns found across animal and human species that is called ‘ritualization’ by biologists suggest that they probably have biological, evolutionary, and genetic foundations. The first biologist who brought the word ‘ritual’ into biology probably was Julian Huxley.3 Then, the term has been adopted by ethologists.4 Huxley counts most of behavioral patterns in animals as “a process of ritualization.” By ‘ritualization’ he means “the adaptive formalization or canalization of emotionally motivated behaviour, under the teleonomic pressure of natural selection.”5 In other words, rituals in animals, humans included, are outlets of their motivations somehow for the sake of survival and reproduction. In this regard, studying animal behaviors can gain us an understanding in human being as well, because rituals in animals and humans are, in Catherine Bell’s words, “akin biologically and evolutionary.”6 Unlike those of other animals, human rituals have their uniqueness, such as the symbolic meanings or ‘myth structure’ in the rituals. These rituals appear to have been, as Eugene d’Aquili and Charles Laughlin put it, “grafted onto the mainstream of the evolution of ritual behavior.”7 Hence, biology of ritual is a good place to start digging. Let us start with Julian Huxley’s study on the great crested grebe (a type of water bird). In pairing process, the birds, the passive ones, ascend on the nest or platform to show the ‘pairing attitude’ or the readiness to mate. Sometimes the action occurred, as found by Huxley, directly, sometimes symbolically, and sometimes ritually.8 When a passive bird is ready to pair and she goes up to the nest for this purpose, this is the direct action. If an active bird uses this action to persuade the passive one, the action is symbolic. And if the action occurs outside the context of mating, to express pleasurable emotions, for example, it is mere a ritual which loses 3 Huxley

1914 Tinbergen 1952; Lorenz 2002a 5 Huxley 1966, p. 250 6 Bell 1997, p. 31 7 d’Aquili and Laughlin Jr. 1975, p. 35 8 Huxley 1914, p. 506 4 e.g.,

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A. Cognitive dimension of ritual its symbolic implication.9 Huxley thinks ritual behaviors evolved from the symbolic ones which, in turn, evolved from the actions with genuine purpose. By this manner, Nico Tinbergen, a renowned ethologist, calls this kind of behaviors ‘derived’ activities which is, biologically speaking, displacement activities.10 Displacement activity is “[a] type of behavior that appears irrelevant to the situation in which it is performed.”11 It is common in conflict situations. For example, when a primate encounters a member of another group and has an uncertainty whether it is better to fight or flee, it sits and scratches with its hind leg.12 Or when in aggressive encounters, fighting cockerels turn aside and peck at the ground as if they are feeding, sometimes pebbles are picked but not swallowed.13 In the same line of Huxley’s view, these irrelevant behaviors can be seen as conflict resolver by venting some frustrating emotions out. It is also common in human beings when encountering an uneasy social situation, they scratch their head, stroke their beard, or other form of ‘grooming’ displacement. Sometimes they suck their pen or spectacles, which is understood as feeding displacement. David McFarland notes that when displacement activities have the advantage of conveying the information, they become ritualized and incorporated as part of normal behaviors in aggressive and courtship encounters.14 Biologists call these stereotyped behaviors display. Displays are activities, such as movements, postures, sounds, etc., that are used to communicate among animals, especially in the same species.15 They help clarify the signal functions used in particular situations. This suggests that communicative function of ritual seems to have very old origin, maybe as old as the ritual itself. The issue of communication will be discussed at length later in its own part (see Appendix C). For the present discussion, only 9 Huxley

1914, p. 507 1952 11 Hine 2005, p. 109 12 Mai, Owl, and Kersting 2005, p. 149 13 McFarland 1982, p. 132 14 p. 133 15 Hine 2005, p. 109 10 Tinbergen

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ritualization pertaining to the individual level will be taken into account. We now focus on ritualized behaviors on the brain level and their impacts on psychological makeup of an organism. Around half a century ago in 1960s, Paul MacLean introduced the concept of triune brain that humans possess “a hierarchy of three-brains-in-one.”16 The three brains, according to MacLean, are reptilian, paleomammalian, and neomammalian. In modern neuroscience, the three are reptilian, mammalian, and primate brain.17 They were built upon the older one respectively along the line of our evolution. The reptilian brain, the oldest and innermost layer, is composed of the brainstem (medulla, pons, cerebellum, midbrain, etc.) controlling fixed repetitive mechanisms crucial for survival such as breathing and heart rate. The upper layer, the (old) mammalian brain, consists of what is widely called the limbic system. It is composed of amygdala, hippocampus, hypothalamus, etc. The limbic system plays a major role in controlling emotions. For example, amygdala and hypothalamus work together in early warning system for danger which initiates a survival response when encountering a dangerous situation.18 The outermost layer, the new mammalian or the primate brain, is the part called neocortex—the wrinkled covering. This part controls complex cognitive functions, including linguistic, sensory, motor, and social abilities. It is the thinking or reasoning part of the brain. According to a modern view, the triune brain “remains one of the most successful misconceptions in human biology,” because the structure is in fact found in all vertebrates.19 However, things look easier in that grouping, so I follow the traditional way. MacLean believes that the reptilian brain in mammals by which he calls R-complex is responsible for ritualized behaviors, such as those which are used in courtship and aggressive encounters. It will be mistaken if we deny the role of the reptilian brain in ritualization, because ritualized behaviors are commonly found across a wide range of species in animal kingdom. But it will be mistaken as well if we deny the role of the other brain layers. Repetitive ac16 MacLean 17 Baars 18 p.

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1973, p. 114 and Gage 2010, pp. 422–3

19 Barrett

2017, p. 81

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A. Cognitive dimension of ritual tions are not governed only by the brainstem, especially in human beings. As d’Aquili and Laughlin tell us, due to the repetitive and rhythmic characters of some religious rituals in humans, it can “synchronize affective, perceptual-cognitive, and motor processes within the central nervous system of individual participants” by generating “a high degree of arousal of the limbic system of the brain.”20 These repetitive stimuli also drive cortical rhythms and can cause physical, mental and emotional changes.21 By studying various ecstasy states produced by rhythmic stimuli, d’Aquili and Laughlin believes that these mental states incorporate the feeling of oneness among the participants of the ritual.22 This suggests that ritualization in humans goes beyond the communicative function that was thought to be the primary purpose of this behavior. Konrad Lorenz, another leading ethologist, agrees with this in his classic On Aggression (first published in 1963). He states that “Out of communication two new equally important functions may arise, both of which still contain some measure of communicative effects. The first of these is the channeling of aggression into innocuous outlets, the second is the formation of a bond between two or more individuals.”23 In Lorenz’s view, by using ritualized actions, animals can prevent encountering a direct fight that causes them more harm. That is to say, it is better to display first—“I’m strong, don’t you see? Don’t risk your life fighting me.” Communicative function of the action is still there, but the purpose is not only to transmit a message but to control the other as well. Ritualized behaviors can also serve social functions as Robin Dunbar found that primates spend 10–20% of their time grooming each other (p. 35).24 This grooming goes beyond its hygienic function. The activity can sustain their social solidarity, social roles, and controls conflicts. By considering ritualization in animals as we have seen so far, we can say that there is a connection between complex ritualistic 20 d’Aquili

and Laughlin Jr. 1975, p. 37 and Walter 1949 22 d’Aquili and Laughlin Jr. 1975, p. 38 23 Lorenz 2002b, p. 72 24 R. Dunbar 1996, p. 35 21 Walter

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actions in humans and the primitive forms of ritualized behaviors in animals along the evolutionary line. Decorum or good manners can be regarded as a display of social status in this biological sense. Ritualistic behaviors as an emotional outlet once were taken into investigation by Sigmund Freud. Notoriously, he parallels rituals, particularly religious rituals, with a pathology—obsessional neurosis.25 Neurotic ceremonial actions seem to be different from stereotyped ritual actions by their lack of symbolic meanings, “foolish and senseless.”26 However, from psychoanalytic point of view, the true meaning of the neurotic ceremonials can be penetrated in some way. This renders the “obsessive actions are perfectly significant in every detail.”27 The line between religion and pathology becomes blurred. Neurotics do not understand why they do such behaviors, so do religious persons sometimes. Freud thinks obsessive action, or ritual in religion, “serves to express unconscious motives and ideas.”28 For him, this is the “unconscious sense of guilt.”29 To sum up the whole idea of the similarity between ritualistic actions in both neurotic and religious forms, Freud calls neurosis an “individual religiosity,” and religion a “universal obsessional neurosis.”30 Yet, they are a significant difference in underlying instincts. For neurosis, it comes from sexual repressions; for religion, it is from ‘egoistic sources’31 , to sacrifice one’s own pleasure to the mighty God. For many students of religious studies, this view of Freud on religion is somewhat outdated and no use, or even ridiculous in some respect. But I think the idea still makes some sense when we bring modern cognitive studies of ritual into consideration, as we shall see. Post-Freudian psychologists take ritualistic behaviors more positively as a means to control our behaviors and direct our emo25 Freud

1959 119 27 p. 120 28 p. 122, emphasis in original 29 p. 123 30 pp. 126–7 31 p. 127 26 p.

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A. Cognitive dimension of ritual tions.32 Leon Festinger, a noted social psychologist by his theory of cognitive dissonance, holds that inconsistency makes people have such a dissonance that they are driven to reduce it, “to find some way of restoring consistency to their mental maps of the cosmic events.”33 Ritualistic behaviors can be seen as a coping strategy functioning in normal daily life. Ritual channels emotion and guides cognition.34 However, If the behaviors disrupt the life too much in an unreasonable way, it can be regarded as pathology as psychiatrists call it—Obsessive-Compulsive Disorders (OCD). It is a matter of degree to tell a normal behavior apart from a disordered one. Pascal Boyer and Pierre Liénard agree that OCD seems to be an exaggeration of normal function rather than an aberration.35 To find an explanation of the common characteristics found in OCD, i.e., in children’s rituals (e.g., being stuck in order of things), in particular phase of adults’ life (e.g., while pregnancy the new parents are overwhelmed by senseless and intrusive ideas about the infant which result in some ritualized behaviors), and in cultural rituals (both religious and non-religious), Boyer and Liénard claim that these ritualized actions are the result of two neuro-cognitive structures in interaction—Precaution System and Action Parsing System.36 The former deals with inferring potential threats, and the latter dividing the action into meaningful units. In ordinary actions, the actions are parsed into sequences which their goal can be associated with and they can run automatically. But in ritualized actions, the actions are parsed at the lower level (specific gestures). This makes the direct goal cannot be associated, and the action cannot automatically run. As the result of this non-automatic action, the working memory is swamped with cognitive load. This, in turn, reduces the obsessive and intrusive thoughts produced by the Precaution System. This account can be seen as an elaborate explanation of how ritualized behaviors help us regulate emotions. 32 Spilka

2014, p. 1551 2007, p. 4 34 Kertzer 1988, p. 9 35 Boyer and Liénard 2008, p. 292 36 Boyer and Liénard 2006 33 Cooper

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Can really rituals in cultural context be explained in this way? Is it too far to conclude that the elaborate rituals in human cultures are the result of this preventive system? I still wonder, but I have no idea to say anything against this. The main point is that the successfully-transmitted cultural rituals use the same process as religious concepts being propagated. Rituals prevail and persist because they are more “attentiongrabbing and compelling” than non-ritual way of doing.37 Still, it is not the nature of human beings to be religious or to perform such rituals, maintain Boyer and Liénard. Since there is no empirical evidence to show that humans have a specific capacity for ritual on evolutionary ground.38 Pascal Boyer asserts clearly in his Religion Explained that “There is no religious instinct, no specific inclination in the mind, no particular disposition for these concepts, no special religion center in the brain, and religious persons are not different from nonreligious ones in essential cognitive functions.”39 Religious ideas and rituals are just a by-product of the systems that have job in other domains. Boyer’s argumentation on this point has brought controversies in several fronts. There are scholars who insist that religious behaviors are really adaptive, notably Richard Sosis and Joseph Bulbulia among others.40 I am not in the position to argue for or against on this issue. And discussing this topic keeps us astray from my merit-making which has little to do with whether it is adaptive or not. Let us leave it to biologists or anthropologists to find the answer. Let us move to another big issue in cognitive studies of religion. Whence come religious ideas? Why do they persist and prevail? The target answers are not in historical or social conditions, but in our very mind. The most influential explanation might be Dan Sperber’s idea of epidemiology of representations in which “the causal explanation of cultural facts” are embedded.41 A similar idea is meme, a basic unit of cultural gene, introduced 37 Boyer

and Liénard 2008, p. 293 and Liénard 2006, p. 609 39 Boyer 2001, pp. 329–30 40 See Sosis and Alcorta 2003; Bulbulia 2004; Sosis and Bulbulia 2011, for example 41 Sperber 1985, p. 74 38 Boyer

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A. Cognitive dimension of ritual by Richard Dawkins in The Selfish Gene.42 There is a tension between the two ideas. Sperber argues that the whole project of memetics, the study of memes and their cultural effects, is ‘misguided’43 , because there is no evidence to show that elements of culture inherit their properties from other elements of culture by replication. Pascal Boyer likewise agrees that the replication of memes is misleading, because similar ideas, rather than being downloaded from mind to mind, are reconstructed in a similar way.44 Sperber maintains that cultural ideas can be transmitted without the copying process. It is more like the spread of diseases than the inheritance of genes. Boyer also agrees and tries to explain that why some ideas, particularly religious ideas, are more successful than other in transmission. He concludes that because religious ideas are counterintuitive45 in some way. They contradict the expected ontological categories but maintain other expectations.46 Ilkka Pyysiäinen associates religious belief and experience with “strong emotional reactions” to the counterintuitive concepts.47 Because of its supernatural ideas, religion survives, so to speak. Back to ritual with the same line of thought, Thomas Lawson and Robert McCauley assert that the presence of supernatural agency, what they call culturally postulated superhuman (CPS) agents, is crucial to religious rituals.48 With this core idea, they develop the ritual form hypothesis to supplement ritual frequency hypothesis introduced earlier by Harvey Whitehouse who describes two modes of religiosity which are determined by frequency of their occurrence. The two are imagistic mode which occurs infrequently and involves high emotional stimulation, and doctrinal mode which occurs more often and has less use of emotions.49 McCauley and Lawson argue that it is ritual form not ritual frequency as Whitehouse thinks that determines which mode rit42 Dawkins

1976 2000a, p. 173 44 Boyer 2001, p. 40 45 p. 65 46 p. 62, 73 47 Pyysiäinen 2003, p. 131 48 Lawson and McCauley 1990, p. 5 49 See Whitehouse 1995, p. 197 43 Sperber

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ual ought to be performed.50 In a nutshell, the more directly rituals contact with CPS-agents, the less frequently they need to be performed, also the more permanently the effect of rituals lasts, and the higher sensory pageantry is aroused. What McCauley and Lawson mean by ritual form is not the form of ritual itself, but more precisely is “‘participants’ tacit knowledge about differences in ritual form.”McCauley and Lawson 2002, p. 113 It is all about the intuition of participants which they call religious ritual competence, an adaptation of Noam Chomsky’s theory of generative grammar. This hypothesis seems to have backup empirical evidence.51 Let us move to a slightly higher level of explanation. As accounted by d’Aquili and Laughlin mentioned earlier, religious ritual is distinctively a human phenomenon, because it is always embedded in a myth structure or cognitive matrix.52 Myth posits a certain existential problem, and religious ritual has the function to solve it. Exclusively to human beings, there is a drive to “organize unexplained external stimuli into some coherent cognitive matrix.”53 By this account, symbolic aspect of ritual seems to play a significant role when we take myth as a greater frame of ritual into consideration. However, when d’Aquili and Laughlin say that ritual aims to “gain control over an essentially unpredictable universe”54 , I think they go too far, and what they mean by ritual is narrowly restricted to some form of actions that involves an altered state of consciousness. Consciousness is another complicated issue which can lead us to a big area of study. So, I will not go too deep into this point. Besides the positive effect like blissful feelings, the negative emotions are also widely related to ritual. There are a number of rituals, notably adolescent rites of passage in various cultures55 , that use human emotions, particularly fear and pain, as a means to engrave memorable experiences to the participants. Physiopsychologically speaking, by doing so it activates the 50 For

the whole argumentation, see McCauley and Lawson 2002. and Lawson 2001, for example 52 d’Aquili and Laughlin Jr. 1975, p. 35, pp. 40–1 53 p. 41 54 p. 41 55 See Glucklich 2001 51 Barrett

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A. Cognitive dimension of ritual limbic system of the brain (see above), especially amygdala.56 Candace Alcorta explains that instilling faith-based abstractions like religious teaching is seldom in rational discourse. It is more commonly found in emotionally evocative rituals.57 By this view, religiosity seems to have only one mode, i.e., imagistic, which contradicts to Whitehouse’s two-mode theory, as well as McCauley and Lawson’s ritual form. After a crude survey of cognitive studies of ritual has been done, one might feel overwhelmed by intimidating data and theories. For me, it is really overwhelming to consider and evaluate all wellknown perspectives in this field, let alone the newly found ones. We must choose some things reasonably and make use of them. Now, the main question is that what will be analyzed in cognitive dimension of ritual. I put forth this simple question: “What are elements in human cognition playing roles in the ritual?” I select these aspects related to human cognition to be analyzed here, effects on consciousness, emotions, and memory; and elements of couterintuitiveness. The main question for cognitive dimension What are elements in human cognition being affected by the ritual?

56 Adolphs 57 Alcorta

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2002 2009, p. 115; also Pyysiäinen 2003, p. 158

B. Bodily dimension of ritual This dimension closely relates to the previous one. It should be considered separately by its own right, because ritual is first and foremost bodily actions. As Ronald Grimes sees it, ritual has its root in the senses1 , hence our very body. Embodiment is also one of the most important characteristics of ritual in Grimes’s view.2 He even puts it bluntly, “No body, no ritual.”3 Thinking or philosophizing is not counted as ritual. We use our human body to perform the actions. The body itself “constitutes the core of ritual settings”4 , as well as it is a “vehicle for religious experience.”5 Studying the way body acts, such as postures, gestures, or mere appearance, in ritual performances can tell us many things about ritual. The main concern of this dimension is, of course, the body. The significance of the body in religious studies is relatively a new phenomenon, as William LaFleur notes that while ‘mysticism’ has been mostly abandoned, ‘body’ has become a critical term in the field.6 Catherine Bell also notices that anthropology has leading roles in the studies of the body influenced by the critique of mind-oriented approaches, feminist and gender studies.7 The emphasis on the body in ritual studies can be seen as a complement to the cognitive approach. In linguistics, there is a distinction between performance and competence. Performance is what people speak, whereas competence makes them speak as such. Performance is easily observed, but competence lies underneath and can only be inferred at best. As we have seen previously in Lawson and McCauley’s stud1 Grimes

2014, p. 78 195 3 p. 306 4 Wulf 2006, p. 397 5 Zuesse 2005, p. 7834 6 LaFleur 1998, p. 36 7 Bell 2005, p. 94; Bell 2006, p. 533 2 p.

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B. Bodily dimension of ritual ies8 , they study ritual competence in human cognition. But their target subject is not a real walking human being, rather it is an imaginary person, ‘idealized participant’9 derived from Chomsky’s ‘idealized’ speaker (p. 63).10 Taking bodily performance into account can fill the missing pieces and get a ‘mutual correction’11 , because the two approaches need each other. The bodily dimension proposed here is not exactly about performance in a technical use which will be discussed at length in performative dimension. Rather, it is about the significant roles of the body in meaning making and efficacy in ritual performances. A pioneering work of this kind is of Robert Hertz, a student of Durkheim and Mauss. Hertz sees the human body as a microcosm of the universe12 , and sees the universal law of polarity manifested in the asymmetry of right and left hands. In turn, human beings classify dualistic concepts corresponding to their right and left. Then come the sacred and the profane, noble and common, male and female, strong and weak, and so on. The influence of Durkheim and Mauss is clear, especially the idea that the symbolic categories mentioned above are similar to the classification of social group and kinship based on natural things. In their own words, “the classification of things reproduces [the] classification of men.”13 This line of thought is by and large less convincing nowadays. However, the body as a symbol of whole society is appealing to some scholars, especially Mary Douglas.14 Epitomizing the Israelites with their long history of being suppressed as minority, Douglas sees that they believe their body were polluting. Here came the analogy, “The threatened boundaries of their body politic would be well mirrored in their care for the integrity, unity and purity of the physical body.”15 To Douglas, rituals play a major role to “enable people to know their own society,” because “[t]he rituals work upon the body 8 Lawson 9 Lawson

10 p.

63

11 Grimes

and McCauley 1990; McCauley and Lawson 2002 and McCauley 1990, p. 171

2014, p. 309 2004, p. 98, first published in 1960 13 Durkheim and Mauss 1969, p. 7 14 Douglas 1966, p. 115 15 p. 125 12 Hertz

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politic through the symbolic medium of the physical body.”16 By this view, the body plays a part as a ‘symbolic medium’ to represent other thing, in Douglas’s case, the whole society. Is it just an analogy or does it have some causal connection? It is hard to say. Let us hold this issue for a while. We will come to this later. Now we will focus on the idea that can be used in our analysis— our body is the primary source of our categorization. This line of thought in modern context began with Jean Piaget in developmental psychology. In Piaget’s theory, it is physical interaction with objects that children use to construct their reality and symbolic representation.17 In philosophy, Merleau-Ponty18 developed Phenomenology of Perception showing that our thought or intellect depends on “subject’s pre-reflexive bodily existence”19 , i.e., perception. Anthropologist Victor Turner also sees the bodily experiences as the origin of all classifications.20 But the most influential figures on this subject are George Lakoff and Mark Johnson who wrote Metaphors We Live By in 1980.21 Metaphor is a figure of speech normally used in stylistic writing or rhetoric. It is “a word or phrase that ordinarily designates one thing but used to designate another.”22 It works like a sign, so to speak (see full discussion on sign and metaphor in Appendix C). No metaphor is so well-known in literature as “All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.”23 Metaphor makes an implicit comparison, e.g., the world as a theater, people as actors, in this case. We can clearly see the rhetorical effect on metaphorical use in literary works. But Lakoff and Johnson go beyond that point. They found that most conceptual system in our everyday life is also metaphorical. They call this conceptual metaphor.24 For example, in “argument is war” we defend our position, attack the other position, use a strategy, and win the argument.25 This 16 p.

129

17 Singer

and Revenson 1996, p. 11, 110 2012 19 Martin and Ringham 2006, p. 238 20 V. Turner 1967, p. 90 21 Lakoff and Johnson 1980 22 https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=metaphor 23 from William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act 2, Scene 7 24 Lakoff and Johnson 1980, p. 4 25 p. 4 18 Merleau-Ponty

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B. Bodily dimension of ritual kind of conceptual metaphor they call structural metaphor26 , for it structures one concept with another. There is another kind they call orientational metaphor27 which uses spatial orientation to organize the concepts, e.g., up/down, in/out, front/back. The examples are happy is up, sad is down.28 The key point is that “such metaphorical orientations are not arbitrary.” They are based on our “physical and cultural experience”29 , for instance, we droop when we feel sad and straight up when we feel happy. In their 1999 book, Philosophy in the Flesh, Lakoff and Johnson strengthen their claims by announcing three backup findings from cognitive sciences, namely “the mind is inherently embodied, thought is mostly unconscious, [and] abstract concepts are largely metaphorical.”30 Their aim is to challenge the perennial philosophical speculations of Western traditions with empirical discoveries. Our conceptual systems and reasoning are not transcendent in a ‘disembodied’ way. There is no Cartesian dualistic person. Our reasoning, as they put it, is “shaped crucially by the peculiarities of our human bodies, by the remarkable details of the neural structure of our brains.”31 It is not my task to evaluate their achievement, but some of their ideas sound appealing to me, especially the upside-down Platonic view of reality. In the same vein, Johnson attacks ‘Objectivism’ which has the belief of one correct “God’s-Eye-View” independent of human understanding and transcendent human bodily experiences.32 Likewise, Lakoff proposes a new theory of ‘experientialism’ or ‘experiential realism’ asserting that our thought is physically rooted (embodied), imaginative (by using metaphor, metonymy, and mental imagery), holistic (gestalt), and using idealized cognitive models (rather than mechanical manipulation of symbols).33 To make the point clearer, let us go back to Mary Douglas’ Purity and Danger which posits the body as a symbol of the society. 26 Lakoff

and Johnson 1980, p. 14 14 28 p. 15 29 p. 14 30 Lakoff and Johnson 1999, p. 3 31 p. 3 32 Johnson 1987 33 Lakoff 1987, pp. xiv–xv 27 p.

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In her subsequent work, Natural Symbols, Douglas goes further by asserting that “[t]he physical experience of the body, always modified by the social categories through which it is known, sustains a particular view of society.”34 In other words, the way we perceive our body is determined by the society, the ‘social body.’ We can see a difference here. While Lakoff and Johnson see the body and its social interaction as the very source of our categorization, Douglas, in the line of Hertz, Durkheim and Mauss, sees our categorization as social by its nature—we have to learn to know our body in the guidance of our society, so we can learn the society in turn. That is why I think “body as a symbolic medium of society” is more complicated than just a simple analogy. Who are right, then? It is really difficult to find the definite answer. Both make sense in their own way. However, this issue will be revisited again in discursive dimension below. Victor Turner seems to take it both ways.35 For me, I think we can use both of them in our ritual analysis. Another significant role of the body in ritual performance is about efficacy. The idea originally came from James Frazer’s explanation on how magic works in his classic, The Golden Bough. There are two laws of magic: the law of similarity, and the law of contact or contagion. The first holds that things resemble to each other are the same (e.g., doing something to a figurine of a person is amount to doing to that person). This is called homoeopathic magic. And the other, things once in contact with each other are always in contact (e.g., doing something to a part of a person’s body which no longer has any connection to that body, say, a cut nail, is amount to doing to that person). This is called contagious magic.36 The two laws often work together. Although Frazer himself sees these uses as “misapplications of the association of ideas”37 , in the cognitive explanations of magic regarding conceptual categorization the two laws seem to make a good sense. According to Roman Jakobson, metaphor is based on similarity, and metonymy is based on contiguity.38 And Charles Sanders 34 Douglas

1996, p. 69 1992, p. 96 36 Frazer 1994, p. 26 37 p. 27 38 Jakobson 1971, p. 236 35 Bell

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B. Bodily dimension of ritual Peirce associates index with contiguity.39 Upon these accounts, Jesper Sørensen elaborates and improves Frazer’s model using cognitive and semiotic paradigms. Sørensen associates the law of similarity with metaphorical connection (the relation of likeness), and, in terms of sign, iconic representation is used.40 To the law of contagion, he associates with metonymic connection (the relation of part-whole), and indexical sign is used41 (more about metaphor, metonymy, icon, index, and also symbol in Appendix C). The physical body of participants in (magical) ritual is important to the efficacy of the ritual because the physical contact reinforces the belief in the contagion principle42 , thus it makes the effectiveness of ritual more plausible. Seeing the two laws of Frazer as ‘fuzzy’43 due to the difficulty to differentiate the two sometimes, Sørensen elaborates the law of contagion into two types: forward contagion and backward contagion. The two contagions have something to do with ‘essence’ of physical objects. Sørensen adopts Douglas Medin and Andrew Ortony’s idea of psychological essentialism44 which holds that animate objects have an inner essence that stays unchanged even if their perceptible features change substantially.45 In forward contagion, the physical contact of two elements “ensures a transfer of essence.”46 In backward contagion, once the physical contact is established, it creates a persistent essence link between the two elements even if the connection is terminated.47 Sørensen asserts that Frazer did not include forward contagion in his principles, just backward contagion was mentioned.48 Besides his meticulous explanations on contagion which I find somewhat technical and complex, the basic idea is useful to my analysis. It is worth noting about ‘essence’ used here. In Medin and 39 Peirce

1931–58, §2.306 2007, pp. 57–8

40 Sørensen 41 p.

56 56 43 p. 134 44 Medin and Ortony 1989 45 Sørensen 2007, p. 35, 56 46 p. 103 47 p. 96, 103 48 p. 134 42 p.

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Ortony’s sense, it is not a kind of ontological substance in metaphysics. It is simply as when we perceive one object we can tell it apart from other objects. One object is not the same as others by virtue of this kind of ‘essence.’ The idea that objects have some internal essence like this can make it “a philosophical orphan, banished to the netherworld of Platonic forms.”49 So, they posited psychological essentialism on practical ground which they saw useful cognitively. By their own words, “[t]his would be not the view that things have essences, but rather the view that people’s representations of things might reflect such a belief (erroneous as it may be).”50 Now we come to our practical point. What will be analyzed in bodily dimension? I propose two main functions of the body: the source of conceptual categorization, and the role in ritual efficacy. The physical metaphor plays major part in the former, and in a lesser extent in the latter. The physical metonymy based on the law of contagion plays a significant role in the latter. The main question for bodily dimension What are bodily metaphors and metonyms used in the ritual?

49 Medin 50 p.

and Ortony 1989, p. 183 183, emphasis in original

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C. Communicative dimension of ritual As discussed earlier, the primary function of ritualized behaviors seems to be communication. As summarized by Marc Hauser, in the general view of ethologists, signals sent by animals emerged from nonsignals and goal-oriented movements. Once these nonsignals attain functionality contributing to survival or reproduction, they become ritualized and turn to communicative signals.1 Ethologists also suggest that ritualization goes beyond communicative function and becomes emotional regulating device, and even being used to control others. Although communication is clearly not the final answer for the existence of ritual, we cannot rule out this function from ritual actions, because ritual is undeniably a symbolic system. Hence, the main concern of this dimension is signs. Hauser gives us an example when a nonsignal transformed into a signal in mating situation. In order to mate a female, a male might place his hand on the female’s head to gain his balance. It is not a signal in the first place. Eventually, it might gradually turn to a signal informing the female to which the copulatory position the male is moving. This action was then elaborated into repeated patting on the female’s head when the mounting began. By this way, head patting becomes a ritualized signal.2 We met a similar account previously in Julian Huxley’s study of the great crested grebe.3 The difference is Huxley distinguishes signal from ritual which he thinks it develops later by losing the symbolic implications (see section 3.1). Ritualized actions are thought to make the signal function less ambiguous.4 There are controversies over this point. 1 Hauser

1997, p. 21 21 3 Huxley 1914 4 Huxley 1966, p. 250 2 p.

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In a text book on behavioral ecology, John Krebs and Nicholas Davies lists three hypotheses of the evolution of the signal design, namely reduction of ambiguity, manipulation, and honesty.5 The first is a traditional view, it holds that ritualization reduces the chance of confusion in various displays. As J. M. Cullen notes, besides the attention-catching aspect of ritualized signals, they lessen ambiguity and make them more distinguishable from other signals conveying a different message.6 For this purpose, the ritualized signals are marked by their highly repetitive, stereotyped, and exaggerated nature.7 To put it simpler, when we want to make sure the listener gets what we are saying, we say it repeatedly in a conventional way (not spontaneous or improvised), and sometimes we amplify some fact to make it more interesting. To the stereotypy of the ritualized signal, Desmond Morris explains that to reduce signal ambiguity, the accuracy of the signal must be sacrificed by making little change in its form and sending it frequently, or to give the signal a ‘Typical Intensity’ called by Morris.8 By this view, ritualized signal is quite far to regard as accurate. Krebs and Davies give us an account that stereotypy of such displays may have evolved because “it reduces the information available to reactors about the actor’s internal state.”9 This circumstance occurs in confronting situations when the opponents are uncertain whether it is better to fight or flee. They might send a fake signal to fool the other. This leads us to the second hypothesis. The manipulation hypothesis explains that the ritualized signals may be evolved for the benefit of the actor in altering or controlling the behavior of others. Krebs and Davies use an analogy of advertisement to elucidate the point.10 Signal sent by ads is use to persuade others not to tell the whole factual information. Krebs and Richard Dawkins agree on advertisement analogy. They listed the effective ways of advertising as redundancy, rhythmic repetition, bright packaging, and supernormal 5 Krebs

and Davies 1993, pp. 363–7 1966, p. 363 7 Hauser 1997, p. 21; Krebs and Davies 1993, p. 363 8 Morris 1957 9 Krebs and Davies 1993, p. 363 10 p. 366 6 Cullen

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C. Communicative dimension of ritual stimuli.11 A striking example in animal world is a young cuckoo in its foster parents (other kinds of bird). The cuckoo cannot survive if it does not ‘advertise’ itself as a real offspring. Another example is anglerfish using lure to attract other fish in order to eat them.12 And a good self-explained example is the camouflage widely used by various types of animal. The third hypothesis holds that there are situations when reliable signals are really needed. Communication used in courtship are usually honest signals, because they demonstrate the real quality of the signaler, e.g., size, strength, health, etc. The benefit of the real information results in the success of reproduction. Or in alarm call, animals must use an honest signal to warn others out of predators, otherwise they all will be doomed. However, alarm call can also be used dishonestly. Fork-tailed drongos use false alarm to fool other birds, making them flee and stealing their food.13 Interestingly, around two decades later the newer edition of An Introduction to Behavioural Ecology (4th Edition, 2012), written by Nicholas Davies, John Krebs, and Stuart West, uses totally a different approach to ritualization. In fact, the word ‘ritualization’ is no longer mentioned, particularly in the section related to animal signals. The three hypotheses of the evolution of signal design mentioned above are no longer described. The writers thought that signals used between senders and receivers must benefit to both sides, otherwise the evolution will be unstable14 which makes the behavioral patterns die out eventually. The receivers are not always deceived. They eventually develop some behavior to overcome the deception.15 The distinction between signal and cue is also brought into account.16 A cue is some feature of the sender that the receiver uses to guide its behavior, but the feature has not evolved for that purpose. For example, mosquitoes use carbon dioxide emitted from mammals to guide the blood sources.17 It is not our purpose 11 Krebs

and Dawkins 1984, p. 386 Krebs, and West 2012, p. 417 13 pp. 418–9 14 p. 395; Maynard Smith and Harper 2003, p. 3 15 Davies, Krebs, and West 2012, p. 394 16 after Maynard Smith and Harper 2003, pp. 3–6 17 Gillies 1980 12 Davies,

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to attract mosquitoes that way, so carbon dioxide is used as a cue by mosquitoes. A signal is some act or structure produced by the sender that alters the behavior of the receiver. Signal has evolved because the response from the receiver has effectively co-evolved. An example is courtship feeding; a male presents food to a female during a courtship.18 The action can influence the behavior of the female, because it can signal the male’s ability to find food. At the same time, this also increases the female’s fecundity. The problem of signal reliability also has a new approach. There are three possibilities that the honesty of the signal is ensured. First, the signal is an index when it represents the real conditions, i.e., unable to be faked. For example, eyespots on a peacock’s tail can truly reflect the quality of the male, the bigger the better. Second, the signal is a handicap when it is costly to fake. A peacock somehow can make big eyespots on its tail to attract peahens, but resources for other actions must be reduced as well, say, the immune system. Making fake big eyes on the tail seems not to be a good idea, for the bird may be plagued by sickness. It is possible but not profitable. So, the signal reliability is ensured. The third reason to ensure the honesty is the sender and the receiver both have a common interest. Cheating each other is unlikely to occur.19 Still, the signal can be exploited for benefit of the sender only as we have seen above. There is no clear explanation why this occurs in evolutionary terms. As we have learned so far, the communicative function of ritual is really a complex issue. It is not so simple as ritual is used to transmit some message or to make the message clearer by reducing ambiguity. As mentioned above, the marked features of ritualized actions are repetition, stereotypy, and exaggeration. Repetition can add redundancy to the message, hence the clarity is enhanced. Stereotypy can reduce the message accuracy, because it must stick to its conventional form to ensure decodability, hence understandability. The worst is exaggeration. It ruins both accuracy and understandability. It makes the message attention-catching. By exaggeration, the message looks contrived, unnatural, and obscure. 18 Maynard 19 For

Smith and Harper 2003, p. 4, 84 details, see Davies, Krebs, and West 2012, pp. 396–416.

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C. Communicative dimension of ritual Marked features of ritualized actions 1. repetition 2. stereotypy 3. exaggeration Hauser notes that “ritualized signals were foils, designed to increase ambiguity by concealing the signaler’s ’true’ motivations or intentions.”20 This occurs in competitive situations over valued resources. Using a metaphor of bidding wars in poker can give us a vivid picture, as Hauser puts it, “keep a straight face, bluff for as long as you can, and only show your hand when the stakes are too high and you are about to lose big time.”21 Or as Lesley Rogers and Gisela Kaplan put it, ritualization may be a “way of manipulating the receiver without giving away too much information.”22 When there is a stake, ritualized signals can say nothing about the actual state of affairs. It is just a strategic action helping to win the game or to persuade others. This is supposed to make sense in human ritual as well, but in a very subtle way. When manipulation happens in communication, is it a good or bad communication? To understand this, perhaps it is better to look closely to the concept of communication itself. Biologically speaking, the most obvious characteristic of signal used in animals is that “one individual (actor) in some way modifies the behaviour of another (reactor).”23 That is the essence of communication. Successful communication entails changes in the receivers: knowing more information, initiating a new action, or changing course of actions. But in most cases, communication occurs for benefit of the both sides. To get some more insight, let us move to another field that studies communication in a different approach. Claude Shannon, considered the father of communication theory, proposes a model of communication consisting of information source, transmitter, channel, receiver, destination, and noise 20 Hauser

1997, p. 23 23 22 Rogers and Kaplan 2002, p. 24 23 Krebs and Davies 1993, p. 349, emphasis added 21 p.

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source as channel disturbance.24 The information source has some message to deliver. The message is converted into a signal by transmitter or encoder to make it transmittable. Then the signal is put forth through the channel. There can be some noise disturbing the channel and distorting the signal somehow. At the far end of the channel, there is a decoder or receiver, which converts the received signal into a received message. And the final step, the destination get the message. A familiar example can be a telephone communication. Tom has something to tell Liz. Tom (information source) talks to his telephone (encoder) which converts his voice (message) into an electromagnetic signal. This signal is sent through the telephone line (channel). The line may be disturbed by external electromagnetic field (noise) or some limitation of the line itself. Liz (destination) at the other end hears the voice (received message) reproduced by her telephone (decoder) from the received signal. Does Liz really get the message right? This is a complex question, because it involves three levels of communication problem.25 Level-A problem is “How accurately can the symbols of communication be transmitted?” This is mostly an engineering problem which can be overcome by technology. Shannon himself dealt only with this level of problem because it can be done mathematically. Level-B problem is “How precisely do the transmitted symbols convey the desired meaning?” This is a bit trickier because it is out of control by technical means. And Level-C problem is “How effectively does the received meaning affect conduct in the desired way?” This is beyond engineering concern completely; that is the main job of advertisers or public relations. Transmission can be done only with bunches of symbols (not meaning) which somehow is reproduced by the message receiver. And what really Tom wants to tell Liz is in his mind. He at best converts the meaning in his mind into a speaking discourse which by no means guarantees the accuracy, so does the reproduction of meaning from the speaking discourse received at Liz’s side. The problem of meaning is by and large a philosophical one. We will come to this again in Appendix E. Can this model of communication be used to understand rit24 Shannon

and Weaver 1949, pp. 33-4; see also Sperber and Wilson 1995,

25 Shannon

and Weaver 1949, p. 24

p. 4

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C. Communicative dimension of ritual ual? Is ritual a kind of process that encodes some message into a performance and transmits it through time, handing down generation by generation? I think the problem of this model is obvious for a number of reasons. First, who is the source of information in ritual context is far from clear, everyone performing the action?, or someone—who?, or the collective entity like tradition—who are exactly the tradition?, everyone or someone? (a circle can be seen here). Second, the destination of the message is also unclear. Everyone participating in ritual can be seen as the destination. But if everyone is the source and the destination at the same time, why people do such thing at all? If no one is counted as the source or destination, the communication becomes senseless. The possible answer is there must be some ones who play the source role, and another ones who play the destination role. The two must not be the same. And the third reason, what is really the message is also far from clear—how is it encoded, what is the true purpose? Ritual can be meant many things to many people. If there is no exact message to be found, the communication also turns senseless. To all three levels of communication problem mentioned above, ritual does the job very poorly, so to speak. We can conclude reasonably that communication theory is not a good model to understand ritual’s communicative aspect. To understand the issue more deeply, we must approach it more deliberately. Let us restart with our old friend, the dictionary. To the definition of ‘communication,’ the American Heritage Dictionary is read “The exchange of thoughts, messages, or information, as by speech, signals, writing, or behavior.”26 Communication is about an exchange. But not every give-and-take is counted by it. Some animals exchange food in a symbiotic way. It is not communication. What is exchanged in communication is, at the lowest level, information. Information can be void of meaning as the mathematical theory of communication concerns. Cells of organisms can exchange information by chemical ways. It is so simple that they do not require any ‘meaning.’ When this kind of substance comes, just do this job, and that is all. Once more complex organisms evolved, meaning emerged. 26 https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=communication

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What is ‘meaning’ then? The same dictionary says “Something that is conveyed or signified; sense or significance.”27 From this, we learn that meaning cannot stand alone. It must ride on something else which functions as a medium. And the medium used to carry meaningful information is generally called ‘symbol’ or ‘sign’ which typically means ‘something that stands for something else.’ When did, in the course of our evolution, animals use symbols? The definite answer might be out of our reach. But, for sure, Chimpanzees can be trained to understand symbolic representation to some extent. At first, the chimps learn the association between signs and objects, e.g., icons and real fruits. Then they learn the relation between signs which is more abstract, e.g., numbers and quantity of things. How can the chimps learn this skill? Terrence Deacon answers in one word—‘ritual.’28 He also thinks that our species learned and developed language in that manner. Like the chimps, early hominids were forced to learn a set of associations between signs and objects, repeat them over and over, and eventually unlearn the concrete association in favor of a more abstract one.29 When the social structure of organisms became more complex, the social symbolic problem correspondingly became more difficult, the highly ritualized means was more required. When the complicated symbolic communication was needed and the use of simple tokens as symbol had limitation to represent the increasing amount information, the use of vocalization could break this barrier for it can be used in various combinations resulting in unlimited number of representations. By this way according to Deacon, language evolved. Wolfgang Wildgen suggests that behaviors that are able to convey meaning are “a latent capacity in the whole animal kingdom.”30 All animals have an inborn motion pattern which can develop into two paths. One is motion control which is used to act intentionally in particular contexts. The other is ritualization 27 https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=meaning 28 Deacon

1997, p. 402 402 30 Wildgen 2004, p. 29 29 p.

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C. Communicative dimension of ritual of pattern which is “performed without practical use but with a socio-communicative function.”31 This shows that ritualization plays a major role in the evolution of human communication. Simple gestures might be developed first, and then they evolved into a more sophisticated form. Together with the ability to use voice, the complicated form of communication like language emerged, as well as the more complex social structure. Robin Dunbar notes that when language evolved, it enabled us to use time in social interaction more efficiently. Whereas grooming can bind only two individual at a time, conversation can interact with many.32 Language may have its origin from a kind of ritualized behaviors that can solve the communicative problem. Language can do the job very well, and it takes communication as its primary concern. Elaborate rituals of human beings can be seen as an outcome of this evolutionary process, but the main purpose is not to communicate since language outdoes the job. Still, the symbolic use abounds in every ritual found in human culture. What does ritual communicate? This is the next question that I would like to put into consideration. Before we can understand the point, we must invest our brainpower in a field of study called ‘semiotics.’ This is an important conceptual framework, for without it we cannot make any sense from my whole thesis.

C.1. Semiotics Thomas Sebeok, a leading scholar of semiotics, tells us that semiosis distinguishes life forms from inanimate objects. By this perplexing word, he means all living organisms have an instinctive capacity to produce and understand signs.33 This makes him give the broadest definition of semiotics as the science that studies functions of signs used by organisms. By putting it another way, he says “the subject matter of semiotics is, quite simply, messages—any messages whatsoever.”34 Likewise, Umberto Eco, another leading scholar in the field, tells us that “Semiotics is concerned with everything that can be taken 31 Wildgen

2004, p. 29 I. M. Dunbar 1997, p. 83 33 Sebeok 2001, p. 3 34 As cited in Chandler 2017, p. xvi 32 R.

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C.1. Semiotics as a sign.”35 For sign is anything able to stand for something else, and this something else does not necessarily exist at the moment sign is used, Eco concludes with this intriguing definition: “Thus semiotics is in principle the discipline studying everything which can be used in order to lie.”36 This can remind us to the use of signals by animals discussed earlier. More precisely, there are two terms used to signify the field of studies in modern sense. Semiology is the study of sign system in operation.37 Semiotics, in contrast, is the theory of signification, the production of meaning.38 In my use here, I do not take the nuance of difference into consideration. Thus I combine the two terms together and use only ‘semiotics’ to mean, the most common and simple definition, “the study of signs.”39 For its linguistic origin, semiotics relies heavily on language, the most sophisticated form of signs. This seems to make it irrelevant to ritual. My job is to make it relevant and to make a use of it in the hope that it can shed some light into a corner we have never taken a look at before. There are some reasons for this application. The first is about the nature of ritual itself. Ritual is symbolic by its origin. As Julian Huxley pointed out, the purposeful actions became symbolic actions, and became ritualized actions eventually (see Appendix A). Symbolic meaning may not be the main point of ritualization, because it transcends mere saying something. Ritual can regulate and control, emotions, conflicts, and other individuals, for example. Still, the symbolic representations can be found in all rituals regardless of whether the signification is used or being aware. The second reason is that semiotics itself has gone beyond linguistics already. Roland Barthes, a prominent scholar in the field, says that semiotics (in fact he used semiology after Saussure) concerns any system of signs: “images, gestures, musical sounds, objects, and the complex associations of all these, which form the content of ritual, convention or public entertainment.”40 Thus Barthes extends the application of semiotics, as far as it can go, 35 Eco

1976, p. 7, emphasis in original 7 37 Martin and Ringham 2006, p. 172 38 p. 175 39 Chandler 2017, p. 2 40 Barthes 1968, p. 9, emphasis added 36 p.

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C. Communicative dimension of ritual into fashion, food, furniture, and architecture system.41 Why does semiotics matter? Words from John Deely can answer this question properly. He says, “at the heart of semiotics is the realization that the whole of human experience, without exception, is an interpretive structure mediated and sustained by signs.”42 Before we go to the point that what should be concerned in symbolic analysis of ritual, we should go through the basic concepts of the discipline briefly. The notion of signs in fact has a long history. Hippocrates (460–377 BC), the father of medicine, established semiotics as a branch of medicine for the study of symptoms—signs of illness. Aristotle, St. Augustine, and John Locke also had something to say about signs. However, the full-blown study of the subject in modern period started with two influential figures: Ferdinand de Saussure, a Swiss linguist, and Charles Sanders Peirce, an American logician and pragmatist philosopher. Saussure tells us that signs unite two entities, a concept and a sound-image, not a thing and a name.43 The sound-image is the tangible part of signs, “the psychological imprint of the sound.”44 Saussure calls this the signifier.45 The concept is the abstraction that the sound-image refers to, not the real thing out there. It is called the signified.46 For example, we call a shaggy, barking thing, ‘dog.’ In this case, ‘dog’ is the sound-image or the signifier, and the concept of this shaggy, barking thing we create in our mind to associate with that signifier is the signified. ‘Dog’ is not the name of that animate thing in this sense. All happen in our mind. Saussure states that there is no natural necessity whatsoever that a particular signifier has to be associate with a particular signified. He calls this the arbitrary nature of the sign.47 There is no ‘doggy’ substance in that hairy, noisy thing. Some others call it ‘mah’ in Thai, ‘gou’ in Chinese, or ‘inu’ in Japanese. They are freely chosen by cultures, so to speak. 41 Barthes

1968, p. 63 1990, p. 5 43 Saussure 1959, p. 66 44 p. 66 45 p. 67 46 p. 67 47 p. 67 42 Deely

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C.1. Semiotics Let us move to Peircean model of sign which is a bit more complicated than the previous one. Peirce proposes a three-part model and he puts some peculiar names on it as he wrote: A sign, or representamen, is something which stands to somebody for something in some respect or capacity. It addresses somebody, that is, creates in the mind of that person an equivalent sign, or perhaps a more developed sign. That sign which it creates I call the interpretant of the first sign. The sign stands for something, its object.48 What Peirce means by sign or representamen can be understood loosely as the signifier in Saussurean model, and interpretant as the signified.49 It is worth noting that what Saussure means by sign is the whole bunch of the signifier/signified pair, not just the representation. What is missing in Saussurean model is object, the thing in the real world, which sign refers to. In fact, Saussure avoids to make any reference to the real thing as he insists that sign does not work like names and things. Another interesting point in Peircean model is the sense or effect made by sign, what he calls interpretant, that can become a new (developed) sign or representamen which entails a further interpretant ad infinitum. Other complicated issues in Peirce’s model of sign will be skipped, except the three relations which are often mentioned when we talk about Peirce’s concept of sign and I find them very useful here. I take the explanation and examples from Daniel Chandler which I find lucidly understandable. The three relations are symbolic, iconic, and indexical.50 • Symbolic relation is arbitrary and purely conventional. It must be agreed upon and learned. The sign having this relation is called symbol, such as languages, numbers, Morse codes, traffic lights, and national flags. • Iconic relation is based on perceived resemblance or imitation. The sign having this relation of similarity is called 48 Peirce

1931–58, §2.228, emphases added 2017, p. 32 50 p. 41; see also Peirce 1931–58, §2.92 49 Chandler

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C. Communicative dimension of ritual icon, for instance, a portrait, a cartoon, onomatopoeia, metaphors, and imitative gestures. • Indexical relation is based on direct connection (physical or causal) which can be observed or inferred. This kind of sign is normally called index. Some examples are ‘natural signs’ (e.g., smoke, thunder, footprints), medical symptoms (e.g., pain, a rash), measuring instruments (e.g., weathercock, thermometer), ‘signals’ (e.g., a knock on a door, a phone ringing), pointers (e.g., a directional signpost), recordings (e.g., a photograph, a film, voice recorded), and personal ‘trademarks’ (e.g., handwriting, catchphrases). When the effect of a sign (the result of sign reading) becomes a sign in turn which is able to be read in another step, things seem to be more complex than their benign look. Because sometimes signs do not say things they are supposed to mean. In communication there are two type of meaning conveyed by signs. One is denotative meaning which provides informative description. For linguistic signs, denotative meanings can be found in a dictionary. The other is connotative meaning which depends on the context of communication. This meaning is not in what it is said. Roland Barthes uses Saussurean model to explain the process of connotation. The first order of signification is represented by a sign (a pair of signifier/signified) in a conventional use. This is a denotation. When this sign is treated as another signifier that refers to another signified in the second order. This is a connotation.51 We normally find connotations in figures of speech or tropes. The four major tropes are metaphor, metonymy, synecdoche, and irony.52 Metaphor is based on analogy, e.g., argument is war (see also Appendix B). Metonymy is the use of one concept to stand for another which is related in some way, e.g., using ‘throne’ for monarchy. Synecdoche is the use of a part to represent the whole or vice versa, e.g., using wheels for car. Irony signifies the opposite meaning of which is normally used. In ritual analysis, it is useful to take connotations into account. We have used 51 Barthes 52 See

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1968, p. 90; see also Chandler 2017, p. 166 pp. 151–61

C.1. Semiotics metaphor and metonymy (synecdoche combined) in the bodily dimension (Appendix B). For our practical concern, what should be analyzed in communicative dimension of ritual? As we have seen the complication in this dimension, and I use this as steppingstones to the upper dimensions described below, I will focus only on the functions of signs in ritual using Peircean model: symbolic, iconic, and indexical relations. Other issues will be revisited again in discursive dimension of ritual (Appendix E). The main question for communicative dimension What are symbolic, iconic, and indexical relation found in signs used in the ritual?

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D. Performative dimension of ritual As mentioned several times, although ritualization in animals originated as a means of communication, it definitely goes beyond just saying something; it is able to manage things as well. It is also tricky to say that ritual transcends communication in a naive sense, because communication itself does not just say things. Communication also does things. But to say that every action is somehow a communication is quite useless for analytical purpose. So, I narrow down the meaning of communication to the way we convey meaningful messages, and the way symbolic implications are made. To the other functions that the action affects, I use the word performance. In this section, performative dimension of ritual will be discussed. The main concern of this dimension is actions. Undoubtedly, the performative function closely links to communication. It is like two sides of the same thing. We cannot take only one without another. When we say something we also do something at the same time—to cause some effect by that saying. And when we perform some act, we can always elicit some meaning out of the act, even though it is not the original or intended meaning. There is a difference between the two: While meaning mostly operates in mental space, performance operate outwards in physical space. By this line, performance also closely relates to the body, another dimension in this model described in Appendix B. It is helpful to tackle the word ‘perform’ first, before we embark on the intricate issues of performance. The American Heritage Dictionary, my favorite, gives us some meanings of ‘perform’ (v.) as follows: (a) to carry through to completion, (b) to fulfill some requirements, and (c) to enact a role before an audience, to give a public presentation.1 1 https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=perform

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D.1. Ritual as exhibition Catherine Bell notes that from the oldest meaning of ‘performance’ (n.), the accomplishment of a specified action as (a) and (b) from the dictionary (e.g., command, promise), it comes to mean the enactment of a script (c) (as in a play) or score (as in music). And a more recent use, the emphasis is shifted from the completion of the action to the very activity of the agent in the event. By these meanings, religious studies uses ‘performance’ to stress “the execution of a preexisting script for activity …, or the explicitly unscripted dimensions of an activity in process.”2 The main association of performance mentioned by Bell is unquestionably ritual activity which has two sides: traditional preordination, and the current implementation. The former stresses on the existing scripts, the latter on the actual actions being performed. To go deeper, let us break the word down. Two Latin terms are found: per meaning ‘through,’ and forma meaning ‘form.’3 Performing therefore can etymologically mean formal acting. Grimes also notes that performance implies role-playing before an audience, the role in which the actor does not believe. The word also means ‘to achieve’ some standard or criteria. By these shades of meanings, Grimes distinguishes three connotations of performance: ritual, theatrical, and athletic performances.4 In my analysis, I will focus on two performative functions of ritual: (a) exhibiting function—to show what is being done; and (b) enacting function—to put something into force or to establish something.

D.1. Ritual as exhibition The exhibiting function of ritual is obvious. As for the body of the performers is crucial in any ritual, there must be something to be seen. Even if the main purpose of the ritual is not to display, being on display is hard to avoid. As Grimes puts it: “Whether they believe they should or not, religious leaders notice whether they are being noticed.”5 2 Bell

1998, pp. 205–6 2006, p. 381 4 p. 381 5 p. 380 3 Grimes

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D. Performative dimension of ritual This aspect makes ritual and staged drama have something in common—the presence of an audience, whether intending or not. Yet the two activities are different. Ritual is not drama categorically as I explained in Chapter 3 and 4. One key difference pointed by Grimes is that “the roles and actions of plays are typically framed as not real or make-believe.”6 The actors in dramas do not believe what they are acting is real. In ritual, the circumstance is real, but stylization makes it unnatural. Still, the analogy is appealing. Sometimes it also seems misleading. When Victor Turner talks about ‘social dramas,’ he does not see them as a play that needs an audience. Rather, ‘social dramas’ simply are events that arise from conflict situations—“public episodes of tensional irruption.”7 Turner sees it as a social process. This use of ‘drama’ is more suitable with my second point of focus—performance as an enactment. In ritual context, ‘audience’ can be an inappropriate term, because people coming to participate the ritual do not just come to see the event. They come as a witness—to see something get done and has been done properly. It is like a social sanction of the activity. I think it really is in most forms of social ritual. In religious and magical rituals, some are done in private. But once the rituals are performed in group, their efficacy is enhanced because of this eyewitness effect. For example, if we count meditation as a ritual (in some context it does not, e.g., in therapeutic use), group meditation seems to bring a better result than a private one (outside the ritual context group meditation is also better, I suppose). This effect is, I think, what Erving Goffman calls ‘interaction ritual.’ Behaviors can be modified when “persons come into one another’s immediate presence.”8 What people care, according to Goffman, is their face which is a symbolic one. In social situations, we use minor greetings, compliments, and apologies with others as interpersonal rituals. Goffman sees these activities as ritual because they represent “a way in which the individual must guard and design the symbolic implications of his acts while in the immediate presence of an object that has a special value for 6 Grimes

2014, p. 297 Turner 1974, p. 33 8 Goffman 1967, p. 2 7 V.

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D.2. Speech acts him.”9 This shows that the same sequence of acts performed by an individual and a group can yield a different outcome significantly. To sum up the point briefly, ritual thus needs to be shown in order to obtain a social effect.

D.2. Speech acts The second point of my focus, the enacting function of performance, is more considerable because numerous scholars interestingly address this issue. The obvious fact is that ritual does not only say or show things; it also does, or more precisely, makes things happen. In various forms of rites of passage, ritual can transform a person into another kind of person, a boy into a man, for instance. How can ritual do that? If ritual uses symbols in a similar way as language does, speech act theory can explain this. John Langshaw Austin, an English philosopher, remarks that when we say something, in some situation we do not really describe a certain state of affairs or report some fact as ‘say’ is supposed to mean. Here are examples from Austin:10 (a) in a wedding ceremony, each says “I do” to assert his or her commitment; (b) in christening a ship, the captain says “I name this ship the Queen Elizabeth”; (c) in a will, one can write “I give and bequeath my watch to my brother”; and (d) in making a wager, one says “I bet you sixpence it will rain tomorrow.” The examples above neither describe the state of doing such activities, nor announce that something has been done. The statements are the doing itself. That is to say, they are not just a report. A commitment or a promise is made, and things get name. Austin calls this kind of sentences performative utterance or just performative.11 Contrastingly, he calls descriptive sentence constative.12 9 p.

57

10 Austin 11 p.

6 12 p. 3

1962, p. 5

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D. Performative dimension of ritual An obvious difference between a constative and a performative is the former can be logically verified—to say that the statement is true or false by checking with the actual fact it represents. But, it sounds nonsensical to say that I promise to do such and such things or that I name this dog such and such name is true or false. We cannot verify it that way. However, performative utterance can go wrong or out of place. Austin calls this ‘unhappy’ or infelicitous.13 For a ‘happy’ performative, some necessary conditions must be fulfilled: (a) There must be an accepted conventional procedure; (b) The actors must be appropriate; (c) The procedure must be executed correctly; (d) and completely; (e) The participants must have thoughts and feelings according to the purpose of the act, and must intend to do so; and (f) The participants must actually and accordingly perform by themselves. If the first four conditions (a–d) are not satisfied, the act is misfires; If the last two conditions (e–f) are missed, the act is abuses.14 To illustrate, in a Christian wedding, if the participants have already married to someone else, if the priest is an imposter, if they do otherwise rather than what is prescribed, or if they go just half a way (not signing the register, for example), the ceremony is misfires—wrong in form. If the participants in the wedding do not willingly perform or are forced to do so, the ceremony is abuses—wrong in intention. In case of misfires, the act is void or no effect. In abuses, the act is done but insincerely. By Austin’s words, in misfires, the act is purported but void; in abuses, the act is professed but hollow.15 Seeing ritual in the light of performatives can get a striking similarity. In stead of language-based, ritual uses action-based performatives. In some ceremony, particular kind of utterance is also used. For example, in Buddhist ordination ceremony, only after the formal acceptance of the new member of the Sangha is recited, a man becomes a monk. It is not just the utterance that makes a monk, the whole process of the ritual enables its validity. 13 Austin 14 p.

16 15 p. 18

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uses ‘infelicities’ (Austin 1962, p. 14).

D.2. Speech acts In this sense, apart from its symbolic representation, ritual has this performative dimension. Stanley Tambiah totally agrees. To explain magical ritual, he uses the notion of performative acts by which “a property is imperatively transferred” to an object or a person in an analogical way.16 If the ritual has not been done properly, some crucial conditions are missing or the actors/participants are not qualified, for example, it is counted as invalid or void—misfires. Tambiah uses this point to assert that ritual is “subject to normative judgments of felicity or legitimacy and not to rational tests of truth and falsity.”17 That is to say, judging ritual on scientific ground is inappropriate, in the same way as finding the truth value in performative acts. He even goes further by stating that in magical ritual the empirical verification indeed ruins its validity.18 The notion of abuses in ritual, to my thought, is not taken seriously, because the participants have to do it anyway and the action is completely valid. Ritual concerns most in its formality and less in motivational states of the participants. However, in Buddhist context there are some laxities that give us a wide leeway as well. Performative utterance has some philosophical problems. I will exemplify the obvious ones. When I say “I ask you whether you are going to sleep right here,” is this descriptive or performative? This sentence can be seen as an interrogation or a request, hence performative. But the logical value can also be tested—whether I really ask you such a question/request can be found out, therefore we can say it is true or false anyway. Another example, when I say “someone sleeps there,” without any belief that anyone does that, is this abuses? Obviously it is regardless of its descriptive form. This shows that the dichotomy between constative and performative is really unclear. Austin himself is aware of this problem19 , then he develops a more elaborate model including three performative acts: locutionary, illocutionary, and perlocutionary acts. Put it in a simple way, locutionary act is the action of saying 16 Tambiah

1985, p. 60 134–5 18 p. 60 19 Austin 1962, p. 52, 91 17 pp.

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D. Performative dimension of ritual something; illocutionary act is what we are trying to do by such saying; and perlocutionary act is the effect of what being said. In the above example “I ask you whether you are going to sleep right here,” locutionary act is the expression of the proposition that the listener ‘you’ is going to sleep at the spot or not; illocutionary act is the asking (questioning or requesting); and perlocutionary act is the reaction of the listener, maybe he or she has to say something or just show by doing. Put it another way, locutionary act can be classified by its meaning and content. Illocutionary act cannot be classified only by its content, but also by its force, sometimes called illocutionary force.20 This force makes the doing happens, e.g., asserting, promising, asking, warning, apologizing, and so on. And perlocutionary act is classifiable by its “consequential effects upon the feelings, thoughts, or actions of the audience, or of the speaker, or of other persons.”21 Austin provides us some example how the three acts look different: Locution: He said to me, “You can’t do that”. Illocution: He protested against my doing it. Perlocution: He pulled me up, checked me; He stopped me, he brought me to my senses, and he annoyed me.22 The example is clear enough to show how to identify each performative act. However, a number of philosophical problems may arise. For example, just saying “You can’t do that” can be the three acts depending on the situation. When someone rehearses a play script saying “You can’t do that” alone, this is only a locutionary act. If the same sentence is said in a conversation when someone tries to stop another from doing something, it is also an illocutionary act. And if the hearer stops the action as the speaker intended, the act reaches a perlocutionary effect. The clear distinction therefore can be more difficult to come by than it seems. The force and effect do not exist in words, even the intended meaning. Rather, they fully depends on the situation. In addition, John Searle contends that most of illocutionary acts have 20 Austin 21 p.

101 22 p. 102

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1962, pp. 99–100

D.2. Speech acts no perlocutionary effects associated to their meaning. For example, when we say ‘Hello’ or ‘I promise,’ there is no any effect on the hearer except understanding, and understanding is not an effect.23 Understanding is a precondition to the effect. Let us leave the philosophical riddles here. We will come to the notion of understanding again in Appendix E. Seeing ritual through speech-act lens is quite revealing to me. In locutionary level, we can analyze the symbolic use in ritual performance to elicit its meaning as we have done in communicative dimension mentioned above. In illocutionary level, we can analyze forces that come along with the performance. This is the gist of performative dimension. And in perlocutionary level, we can analyze intended effects of the ritual upon all participants. It is useful to talk about taxonomy of illocutionary acts here, for it can guide our analysis. In How to do Things with Words (lectures in 1955), J. L. Austin classifies five illocutionary acts: verdictives (when a jury, arbitrator, or umpire gives a verdict), exercitives (when one exercises a certain power, e.g., appointing, voting, ordering, urging, advising, warning, etc.), commissives (when one commits something like a promise), behavitives (when one expresses an attitude or behaves socially, e.g., apologizing, congratulating, commending, condoling, cursing, challenging, etc.), and expositives (when one makes the utterances fit into the conversation, e.g., ‘I reply’, ‘I argue’, ‘I concede’, ‘I illustrate’, ‘I assume’, ‘I postulate’, etc.).24 The last two classes are somewhat troublesome as Austin himself admits that25 , and some scholars see the classification problematic. John Searle is a notable one. In A Taxonomy of Illocutionary Acts (first presented in 1971), Searle proposes alternative categories: assertives (the speaker admits something like a belief), directives (the speaker gets the hearer to do something), commissives (the speaker is committed to some future course of action like a promise), expressives (the speaker expresses a psychological state), and declarations (the speaker confirms that what he or she said corresponds to the world).26 Stanley Tambiah who applies illocutionary acts in his analy23 Searle

24 Austin

1969, p. 46 1962, pp. 150–1

26 Searle

1979, pp. 12–20

25 p.

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D. Performative dimension of ritual sis of ritual says that insofar as ritual uses words in combination with deeds, it uses words in illocutionary manner just as the action does in performative way.27 This can explain, in Tambiah’s view, how magical spells work. It is a illocutionary act in essence. However, to fit in the aforementioned taxonomy seems problematic. A new category of illocutionary act might be needed. As stated earlier, in this dimension I utilize two analyses: (a) exhibiting function of ritual performance, and (b) performative analysis. The first is clear by itself. In the second analysis I will focus on illocutionary forces according to the taxonomy mentioned above with some selection and adaptation, together with their intended effects (perlocutionary acts). The effects can be done only by speculation, because the real consequences is hard to see. The locutionary acts are shown as propositions. The main questions for performative dimension How does the ritual exhibit? What are locutionary, illocutionary, and perlocutionary acts found in the ritual?

27 Tambiah

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual Now we come to the most complicated part of the model. This is also the heart of my conceptual framework. What we have learned so far help us to make sense of this dimension. We have moved gradually from the individual level investigating the mind-andbody infrastructure of ritual to the interpersonal level considering how ritual uses signs to connect a person to others. Now we reach the social level addressing how ritual affects the society at large or vice versa. Several important issues will be recounted and expounded here. The main focus of this dimension is knowledge. Before we come to this term, as well as ‘discourse’ after which I name this dimension, I would like to introduce a rather long recount beginning with human cognition and the evolution of communication supplementary to what have been discussed in Appendix A and C. As we have seen earlier, ritualization has something to do with the evolution of language, but it goes beyond that function and becomes multifarious forms of behaviors. My task is to make use of the existing knowledge to obtain a comprehensive understanding of ritual. Let us revisit the human mind. One characteristic of human mind that differentiates us from other animals is the ability of using and understanding signs. Some animals can also use signs or signals to make a simple, immediate representation, such as an alarm call for warning from predators. Chimpanzees can form a more complicated sequence of action: finding a termite hill, walking away to find some tree, breaking a twig, ridding its leaves, returning to the termite hill, and fishing the termites with the stick. Chimps cannot do this without certain mental representations of a stick and its use.1 1 Gärdenfors

2004, p. 238

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual Humans excel all animals by the ability to use signs of signs, or representations of representations which is called metarepresentations.2 For example, we can think or talk about past events and speculate about a future outcome. These abilities cannot be achieved without a potential of intricate sign manipulation. As remarked by K. J. W. Craik more than half a century ago, symbolization contributes to our thinking process. We represent external reality and our possible actions according to that reality with, called by Craik, “small-scale model.”3 With this model in mind, we can “try out various alternatives, conclude which are the best of [them], react to future situations before they arise, utilize the knowledge of past events in dealing with the present and future.”4 And with this ability of manipulating mental representations, communication becomes possible. Language is undoubtedly a culminating form of metarepresentations using in thinking and communication. Whether language or metarepresentations evolved first is still disputable. It is reasonable to assume that they co-evolved.5 Formerly, Sperber claims that language is not a cause but an effect made possible by the ‘metarepresentational module.’6 On the other side, Daniel Dennett (1991) seems to prefer that language evolved first.7 As I understand this, we mainly use metarepresentations for our thinking and use language for communication (with others). This can go at odds with Noam Chomsky’s view on language. For him, language is “essentially an instrument of thought”8 —the tool that is not “humans design but biological objects, like the visual or immune or digestive system.”9 The notion of language proposed by Chomsky ruins the clarity we have just reached. I am not sure how far the meaning of ‘language’ used here covers. Do animal ‘languages’ count? If not, can’t animals think? To make things clear, I thus avoid taking this kind of account into consideration. Differentiating between metarepresentations and language is enough to bring us 2 Sperber 3 Craik 4 p.

61

2000b 1943, p. 61

5 Sperber

2000b, p. 121 1994, p. 61 7 Sperber 2000b, p. 121; C. Hart 2010, p. 35 8 Chomsky 2016, p. 14 9 p. 15 6 Sperber

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E.1. Sapir-Whorf hypothesis an understanding. However, which one came first is a minor question here, but to my mind thinking precedes talking, hence metarepresentations should come first. A more important issue is that whether or to what extent language and metarepresentations affect human thought. This brings us to the widely-called SapirWhorf hypothesis.

E.1. Sapir-Whorf hypothesis The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, sometimes Whorfian hypothesis or more formally linguistic determinism and its general term—linguistic relativity, posits an idea that our view of the world is shaped by the structure of language we use. The idea is not new. Some thinkers have entertained this idea before. A precursor of the idea in modern period is proposed by Wilhelm von Humboldt, a German linguist, in the early nineteenth century, now known as Weltanschauung hypothesis. Humboldt was influenced by Johann Georg Hamann and Johann Gottfried Herder who were contemporary to Immanuel Kant, a great German philosopher in the eighteen century. Hamann and Herder, his student, aimed to wrestle with Kant’s ‘innate ideas’—the categories10 , which inexplicably have a divine origin. Hamann and Herder’s approach is more naturalistic and relativistic. It is Franz Boas who brought Humboldt’s idea to America. Boas taught Edward Sapir, and Sapir taught Benjamin Lee Whorf in turn.11 Whorf popularized the idea by publishing articles to support Sapir’s position in 1930s. Humboldt’s hypothesis is that world-view (Weltanschauung) of one people can differ from others significantly due to “the extreme difference of the ‘internal structure’ of their respective languages.”12 Julia Penn notes that the internal structure of language is the “semantic labeling of reality” or the “structuring of the world imposed by semantic units.”13 Humboldt’s position is an extreme one, now called linguistic determinism. For him, “[l]anguage is the formative organ of thought. … Thought and 10 Penn 11 p.

54 12 p. 19 13 p. 19

1972, p. 45

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual language are therefore one and inseparable from each other.”14 Edward Sapir’s position is similar but sounds slightly milder. He wrote as follows: The fact of the matter is that the “real world” is to a large extent unconsciously built up on the language habits of the group. No two languages are ever sufficiently similar to be considered as representing the same social reality. The worlds in which different societies live are distinct worlds, not merely the same world with different labels attached.15 By using “to a large extent” and “language habits,” Sapir made it less deterministic. But contrasting the “distinct worlds” and the “same world with different labels” makes the influence of language on world-view still strong. Whorf also asserts the extreme position (at least in this part of his writings). It was found that the background linguistic system (in other words, the grammar) of each language is not merely a reproducing instrument for voicing ideas but rather is itself the shaper of ideas, the program and guide for the individual’s mental activity, for his analysis of impressions, for his synthesis of his mental stock in trade.16 It is not only one’s world-view that is shaped by language, but also the way one thinks (the shaper of ideas). An oft-mentioned example of Whorf’s study is about the language of Indian tribe Hopi whose verbs have no tense.17 By this view, the Hopi inevitably perceive time differently from Indo-European language users. In The Language Hoax: Why the World Looks the Same in Any Language, John McWhorter (2014) doubts whether it is necessary to be the case, and he shows that it can be otherwise as the subtitle tells us. As a non-Indo-European, I also doubt that, for Thai verbs have no tense as well (Thai has a few time markers 14 von

Humboldt 1988, p. 54, emphasis in original 1949, p. 69 16 Whorf 1956, p. 212 17 p. 144 15 Sapir

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E.1. Sapir-Whorf hypothesis nonetheless). I see no significant difference between my time and English speakers’ time, except I need more time to think how to put tense in my English. Naturally, I often get it wrong, but still have a perfect understanding of the situation. However, having a lot of words to say and having fewer can make a difference. In some language which has more words to classify colors, Russian for example has different words for light blue and dark blue, to identify the color in a borderline case take more time.18 If we have fewer words for colors, it is faster. It is just ‘blue’ in English no mater how light or dark it is. Even easier if some have only one word for green and blue, Japanese (ao) for example. Many Thai elders I met call everything in this color range ‘green’ or kwiew (เขียว) in Thai, even if we have a word for blue. Another interesting example, Tzeltal, a Mayan language, has no word for left and right to specify relative positions. The users of that language use geographical reference instead. They have ‘uphill’ (roughly south), ‘downhill’ (roughly north), and ‘across’ (either east or west).19 We might say, “My house stands uphill of yours,” for instance. However, the differences in this case, as well as the color case, are not ‘big effects’ as Ray Jackendoff puts it.20 It is not so different that we cannot understand each other. Intriguingly, the most perplexing case of all is the Pirahãs in the Amazonian jungle whose language has no number and any counting system.21 In this case, making a precise calendar, engaging in business, or doing science seems more or less impossible. A big difference can be seen in such a case, but the issue is still open. It is worth noting that it is this Pirahã case Daniel Everett uses to challenge the Chomsky’s theory of generative grammar (2002), or ‘language instinct’ as Steven Pinker (1994) calls it. According to Everett, culture also seems to play a significant part in linguistic ability. That is a big issue I do not want to touch. Nowadays, linguistic determinism is an untenable position according to current findings in cognitive science. Linguistic deter18 Deutscher

2010, p. 223 2004, p. 148 20 Jackendoff 2012, p. 75 21 D. Everett 2008, p. 117 19 Levinson

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual minism posits a tight relationship between thought and language, but loose relationship between thought and the world. Whereas research in cognitive science suggests that thought relates loosely with language, and tightly with the world.22 This means that in the same world we can form a similar thought but use totally different languages. Another position that can be rejected is we think with language or language equals to thought. Research shows that even infants and nonhuman primates can have sophisticated form of thinking without language.23 Thinking and language using are not the same process. They evolved separately (see metarepresentations mentioned above). However, some soft forms of linguistic relativity have empirical support, as shown by Wolff and Holmes.24 Wolff and Holmes accept five versions of linguistic relativity, namely thinking for speaking, language as meddler, language as augmenter, language as spotlight, and language as inducer (there are too many details to elaborate here, for further explanations see the article). It is reasonable therefore to conclude that language do affect our thought in some way. This can also be the case in ritual which have a kind of symbolic representation.

E.2. Understanding Let us move on to another point in communication. The next problem will be whether metarepresentations or language can really represent reality. This is another big topic that can draw the whole field of philosophy onto the table. We cannot easily evade this problem, because without this understanding we cannot go further. To make it less overwhelming, I will discuss only the relevant issues for practical purposes. To remind us, the central object of our consideration is signs or symbolic representations. Before going to a conceptual discussion, let us consider at the cognitive level first. The well-founded knowledge we get from cognitive sciences tells us that we know the world through the brain, not just our sensory organs. The brain is the center of our information processing receiving input from the senses. If we take that the world really 22 Wolff

and Holmes 2011, p. 255 254 24 Wolff and Holmes 2011; see also C. Everett 2013 23 p.

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E.2. Understanding looks like what we see, hear, smell, taste, or touch, we make a mistake. There are only the spectrum of light, vibration of air, chemical compounds, and vibration of molecules. The main function of the brain is to make a coherent picture from various sources of information, including the sense of self who possesses the brain. It is a huge story, so we skip most parts and draw some interesting and easily understandable points to our consideration. The most complete knowledge we have about how the brain makes sense of the world is on visual perception. It is clear that the brain fills in the picture we see to make it seamlessly whole, for the reason that we all have a blind spot in our eyes where the optic nerve is plugged into the eyeball. This area has no receptive cells (rods and cones), so it should not produce any picture, but we see no speck nonetheless.25 The important point is that the brain automatically fills up the missing pieces of information to form a coherent perception. It goes “beyond the information given,” as Jerome Bruner (1973) put it. This understanding has been pointed out long time ago by Gestalt psychologists who note that “our perception of the visual world is organized in ways that the stimulus input is not,” therefore, “the organization must be contributed by the perceiver.”26 Now we know that it is the brain doing the tricks. If we see an ambiguous picture, our brain can also find its way to make sense in some way. To illustrate this, let us see Kanizsa triangle illusion, as shown in Figure E.1.27 In the figure, we normally see a white triangle shape floating over another triangle and three circles, even though the shape is not really there. In fact, there are only three connected lines and three Pacman shapes arranged in a suggestive way. What we see is suggested likewise by our brain. We can conclude at this point that our perception is an active, constructive process, not a passive, receptive one. This can remind us to Kantian epistemology in a broad sense. Not only do the perceivers play a major role in the comprehension, we can be easily deluded. A great number of visual illusions can illustrate the point, including the above one (see also Figure E.3 below), 25 Baars and Gage 2010, p. 186; also a good number of blind-spot tests can be easily found in the Internet. 26 Reisberg 2010, p. 61 27 For some more information on Kanizsa triangle, see https:// newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Kanizsa_triangle.

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual

Figure E.1.: Kanizsa triangle illusion and particularly tricks used in magical shows.28 Even we know how the tricks work, we are fooled anyway. This is true in our everyday life situations as well. Let us fast-forward to the language processing. There are two main processes: the input process (how we understand others), and the output process (how we make others understand us). As shown in Figure E.229 , in hearing process, we get sound input fed into auditory-phonetic analysis, then sentence analysis which has three functions respectively: phonological and lexical decoding, lexical and intonational decoding, and grammatical decoding. The input path ends with conceptualizing system which organizes semantics and knowledge received. The intention of the sender is also inferred by this module via discourse analysis. In speaking process, we start with conceptualizing system by generating communicative intention, then formulating output by grammatical encoding, surface structure, and phonological encoding respectively. After that we do the articulatory plan (inner speech), then breathing control and vocal movement. The common component used by both processes is conceptualizing system mentioned above and the lexicon, the resource used by sentence 28 Macknik 29 Adapted

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and Martinez-Conde 2010 from Baars and Gage 2010, p. 372

E.2. Understanding analysis and formulating output. •Inferring intention of sender •Discourse analysis

CONCEPTUALIZING (Semantics, knowledge) •Communicative

intention •Message generation

Input 6

Output ?

Sentence analysis •Grammatical decoding •Lexical and intonational decoding •Phonological and lexical decoding

' 

Lexicon

&

Formulating output

$

•Grammatical encoding

-•Surface structure

•Phonological encoding

%

6 Auditory-phonetic analysis

?

Articulatory plan (Inner speech)

6 Sound input

?

Breathing control and vocal movements

Figure E.2.: Levels of language processing The key element that makes the interlocutors understand each other, from my conclusion, is the shared lexicon which means the same language system at large. In communication theory, this is called ‘code’ which is more than a dictionary (this will be explained later). Another factor that help us to understand others is the ability to read others’ intention. This can be done by analyzing the utterances (as the aforementioned diagram called discourse analysis—I will avoid this term for it will confuse with my later use), as well as non-linguistic elements such as gestures, directions of eyes, the atmosphere, and so on. The ability that one organism can read others’ states of mind is generally called the theory of mind. This ability is one of the crucial contributors to the social cognition, making communication among members possible. Recently, the discovery of mirror neurons gained public attention in hoping that they can somehow explain our social ability. Let us talk about this for a moment. Mirror neurons—first discovered in 1990s in macaque monkey

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual by Giacomo Rizzolatti, Vittorio Gallese, and their team—are a specific set of motor neurons (ventral premotor cortex) that fires both when an agent performs some action, grasping, for example, and when it sees other performs the action. Mere seeing can produce the same mental states as doing, to put it simply. Humans also have this kind of neurons. The activity of these neurons “correlates with action understanding.”30 Moreover, just an observation of emotional actions, like disgust-involved deeds, can activate the brain and “give a first-person experience of the same actions.”31 This can explain how we feel empathy with others, like “I can feel your pain.” In addition, mirror neurons are probably “a basis for inferring the goals and intentions of others.”32 We can derive the purpose of other’s action by this feature. However, mirror neurons do not go unchallenged. One obvious objection is that macaque monkeys have really poor social ability, unable even to imitate other’s behaviors.33 For what reason they have this kind of neurons is still disputable. The significance of mirror neurons has also been downplayed by Gregory Hickok in his book, The Myth of Mirror Neurons. Hickok contends as follows: (a) There is no direct evidence in monkeys that mirror neurons support action understanding. (b) Mirror neurons are not needed for action understanding. (c) Macaque mirror neurons and mirror-like brain responses in humans are different. (d) Action execution and action understanding dissociate in humans. (e) Damage to the hypothesized human mirror system does not cause action understanding deficits.34 Let us leave this unsettled topic here, and draw some useful implications. Regardless of whether mirror neurons play a major 30 Rizzolatti

and Fogassi 2007, p. 184 192 32 Baars and Gage 2010, p. 451 33 Reboul 2017, p. 109 34 Hickok 2014, Preface 31 p.

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E.2. Understanding role in action understanding or not, we nonetheless can understand actions of others including intention. And emotion understanding seems undeniable, no objection in Hickok’s arguments. The reproduction of emotions by reading novels, watching movies, or hearing stories can confirm the point. However, to fully assimilate others’ thought is quite a different story, for we by no means enter the consciousness of the other. We can do at best just inference by accumulating various information, also making up some. Understanding, much like perception, is a constructive process, and we are pretty good at it, cognitively speaking. If the real understanding is amount to having the same mental states of the other, it is untenable to have such understanding, at least not yet by a natural means (I rule out any kind of mysticism from my consideration). When we say “I understand you,” we precisely mean “as far as I can infer from this bunch of information, I think what you mean is ….” Understanding in this sense is not a direct seeing, which reads off reality35 as a first-hand experience. Understanding is more or less an interpretation. When we see a flower, we do not say we understand the flower. Once we say we understand something, we mean we have an explanation of it. This is a kind of interpretation. We can call it scientific understanding.36 Bringing a further philosophical discussion seems to make things more confusing. My point is that understanding operates on conceptual level, not on experiential level. And interpretation is always the case when we talk about understanding. To understand is equivalently to interpret in some way. At the brain level, we do a lot of interpretations unconsciously; it is better called information processing. At a higher level such as symbolic and linguistic understanding that we have some conscious control, what we use to interpret information is called ‘meaning.’ We can say that to a large extent the whole business of language and any symbolic representation is to reproduce understandings, and meaning is the crucial part contributing to that process. Knowing the meaning is the understanding.37 35 Mason

2003, p. 27 28 37 See Dummett 1993, p. 4 36 p.

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual Like the constructive nature of perception, we can recapitulate at this point that all meanings are locally produced, not delivered. As we have seen in language processing mentioned above, the way from sound input to understanding is not so direct. There are steps of analysis and conceptualizing. We understand each other nonetheless, because we share some infrastructure, such as the lexicon and the same processing mechanism. Yet, it is still far to be error-proof. In an immediate conversation, we encounter less problem because we have turn-takings. If any mistake occurs, the message can be repaired by subsequent turns. Meanings in conversation are “features of social interaction, rather than speakers’ intentions.” And what the utterance means is “the same thing as its interactional uptake and trajectory.”38 This means that in conversational situation meanings are real-time generated at the spot by interaction between the interlocutors. Misunderstanding can be drawn, but it can be detected and corrected as long as the session is kept going. Still, mistakes are often the case in conversation. In a lack of interaction, the situation is worse in non-face-to-face communications, we can suppose. One factor that can meddle our conversation is memory. It is absolutely true that without memory we cannot do anything even survive, let alone communicate with each other. Memory is a big topic in cognitive sciences. It is one of the crucial elements in our cognitive infrastructure. The aspects of memory I should bring into account here are that memorizing is also an active process (far from mere recording), “a dynamic activity or process rather than a static entity or thing”39 , and that it is vulnerable to be false. In storing process, information is encoded and linked to make searching possible in retrieval process. It can also ‘knit’ separate memories together, as we are often confused when we have several similar episodes stored and they are mixed into the same story. If we are exposed to a false suggestion, this misinformation can change the details of an event. In an extreme case, it can be planted with a whole false episode that has never happened before. People cannot tell they have wrong memory or not. They are usually confident of its accuracy if they can recall it in great 38 Edwards 39 Foster

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1997, p. 101 2009, p. 8

E.2. Understanding details along with associated emotions. It can be wrong nevertheless. In normal situation, when we hear a speech or read a passage, we do not memorize the exact wording. Rather we memorize the meaning which is extracted from the linguistic message.40 Jonathan Foster calls this semantic encoding.41 It is not uncommon to us when some idea pops up in our mind, we often forget where it comes from. The source of the idea is unclear whether from hearing, watching, talking, reading, or dreams. And if we know more than one language, we are not sure from which language it comes. In the Seven Sins of Memory enumerated by Daniel Schacter, this one is called misattribution. The rest are transience, absent-mindedness, blocking, suggestibility, bias, and persistence.42 Understanding how memory works can change the way we deal with our information received and stored. Even if it is reliable most of the time, memory can be unexpectedly false. This should make us more careful with remembering both from our own and others. In courtroom situation, eyewitness testimonies are downplayed and more carefully investigated nowadays because of this understanding. However, highly accurate memorization can be trained by using a right technique, such as mnemonics. According to memory research, we thus can conclude that “instead of reproducing the original event or story, we derive a reconstruction based on our existing presuppositions, expectations and our ’mental set’.”43 Another factor that makes a perfect reproduction of understanding difficult to reach is ambiguity. As Baars and Gage put it: “Language is rife with ambiguities at every level of analysis, both in input and output.”44 When we meet an ambiguous stimulus, we come to a point of the information flow which we need to choose either way. Baars and Gage call this ‘choice-point.’45 In encountering the duck-rabbit or vase-face illusion (see Figure E.3), we see either figure at a time but not both. This may be an artificial stimulus, but in normal life we do it unconsciously 40 Anderson

2010, p. 117 2009, p. 32 42 Schacter 2001; see also Foster 2009, p. 82 43 p. 12, emphasis in original 44 Baars and Gage 2010, p. 373 45 p. 80 41 Foster

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual all the time with ambiguous sensory input. This mechanism can keep us survive, because that unclear approaching noise can be a dangerous thing. So, we jump to a conclusion using meager information and run first.

Figure E.3.: Duck-rabbit and vase-face illusion In language processing, it is more complex involving multiple levels of analysis which all have choice-points. In phonetic level, some characters have a similar sound when construct a word, for example c and ch and k, f and v and ph, or g and j and y. In word level, most common words we use have multiple meanings. In phrase and sentence level, the structure can also be ambiguous. Some examples from Chomsky are “old men and women” and “they are flying planes.”46 These can be read either “(old men) and women” or “old (men and women),” and either “they (are flying) planes” or “they are (flying planes).” By this line of thought, to get everything right from one head to another head sounds impossible, because the probability in making the right choice can be very unlikely. Yet, we can talk to each other without any big problem, or the reader can read this writing and get what I try to explain. How can we do this? Now we move to communication theory and semiotics again. I find this explanation from John Fiske clear and readable, so I quote 46 Chomsky

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2002, p. 87

E.2. Understanding it in full. For communication to take place I have to create a message out of signs. This message stimulates you to create a meaning for yourself that relates in some way to the meaning that I generated in my message in the first place. The more we share the same codes, the more we use the same sign systems, the closer our two ‘meanings’ of the message will approximate to each other.47 From the passage, the explanation sounds familiar and fits nicely with cognitive explanation. In this view, what determines the meaning of the message is not the signs or the referents, but code. And here is how Fiske defines code. A code is a system of meaning common to the members of a culture or subculture. It consists both of signs … and of rules or conventions that determine how and in what contexts these signs are used and how they can be combined to form more complex messages.48 Another definition from Marcel Danesi is read: “Codes are systems of signs that people can select and combine in specific ways (according to the nature of the code) to construct messages, carry out actions, enact rituals, and so on, in meaningful ways.”49 Seeing ‘rituals’ in this definition tells us that we are going on the right track, not getting lost somewhere. As we have seen in Shannon’s communication model, a message must be encoded before being transmitted through channel, and it must be decoded for the receiver can make sense out of it. Seeing code in this way may bring us an understandable picture, but in a symbolic communication like language it is quite different. We can see code simply as a conventional use of signs. When I say “How do you do?” to greet someone, if we both use the same code, we can understand the situation that it is not a question per se. Meaning of the sentence cannot be derived from words, 47 Fiske

1990, p. 39, emphasis added 19–20, emphasis added 49 Danesi 2007, p. 75, emphasis added 48 pp.

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual it is drawn from the code. We can see a message as an utterance formed by a combination of constituent parts, and a code as a language system at large, “the repository of all possible constituent parts.”50 In Saussurean terms, they are parole and langue respectively.51 There is no point to get deeper into this linguistic parlance. So, let us move on. Besides a language which is common to a particular society, there are a number of sub-codes that we can find in the society. Daniel Chandler groups them into three: interpretive, social, and representational codes. Here are some examples: (a) Interpretive codes: perceptual codes (e.g., visual perception); ideological codes (e.g., most terms ended with ‘-ism’) (b) Social codes: verbal language; bodily codes; commodity codes (e.g., fashions); behavioral codes (e.g., protocols, rituals) (c) Representational codes: scientific codes (mathematics); aesthetics codes (e.g., poetry, drama, painting, music); genre, rhetorical, and stylistic codes; mass media codes (e.g., those used in photography, radio, television, newspaper, etc.)52 Again, we see that ritual is a kind of code in which various signs are organized. We can also see ritual as a broadcast code in Fiske’s terminology. Broadcast code is shared among most people in a society (the opposite is called narrowcast code). It is normally anonymous or institutionally written. The broadcast codes, says Fiske, “are the means by which a culture communicates with itself.”53 To find the meaning of a ritual, what culture ‘says,’ we must understand its governing code. By this stance, code is a part of ritual structure into which it is built. Roman Jakobson goes further by incorporating some ideas of Peirce into Saussure’s model. One point worth mentioning here is the role of context. Jakobson wrote, “there are two references which serve to interpret the sign—one to the code, and the other 50 Jakobson

1971, p. 243 2007, p. 23; Chandler 2017, pp. 139–44 52 Summarized from pp. 186–7, emphasis added 53 Fiske 1990, p. 74 51 Danesi

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E.2. Understanding to the context.”54 Context is also one of the components of Jakobson’s model of communication, enhancing the Shannon’s model which is context-free. Communicating in social environment, context does matter. Codes make the meaning of signs possible, but, as Chandler puts it, “we cannot identify what might be relevant codes without knowing the situational context.”55 An example given by Chandler is a road sign, say, an S-line within a red triangle. If we see this beside a road, we can interpret it as “beware the double bend ahead” using the Highway Code. But if it stands in an art gallery, a different context, the Highway Code cannot be applied here. Perhaps, using a certain aesthetic code is more relevant. This can explain why even though ambiguities occur in every level of language processing, we can understand each other in a great extent. The main reason is that in the same culture (or sub-culture specifically) language processing operates on the same code according to the relevant context. By this view, linguistic and semiotic meaning and understanding are essentially social phenomena. What constitute codes are not just bunches of definitions, grammar rules, and technical usages. They are also social values and expectations. The idea that value affects meaning has been already proposed by Saussure. As we have seen from Saussure’s principle of sign, the real world is taken out of the signification process. Sign is not the name of the thing out there.56 It is not the real that determines the meaning. It is value in Saussurean terms. Saussure uses an analogy of a chess game. If we lose a chessman, say, a knight (maybe a shaggy dog has munched it), we can use other object to substitute the knight and play the game as normal. We can replace one thing with another because they have the same value.57 This value determines the meaning of the object we use to act like a knight. Likewise, what determines the meaning of a sign is its linguistic value which depends on language system of the culture, i.e., codes. Dog in English and mah in Thai signify the same concept, the shaggy, noisy creature, but 54 Jakobson

1971, p. 244, emphasis added 2017, p. 236; also see the definition of code by Fiske above 56 Saussure 1959, p. 66 57 p. 110 55 Chandler

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual they have a different cultural value, hence different meaning.58 To put it another way, meaning is determined by its use.59 Saussure also teaches us that the belief that signs can reflect the world like a mirror reflects our face is illusory, because there is no real thing inside the system of signs. The hope that language can tell us what the truth looks like is now unattainable. Bringing cognitive account on perception and language into consideration can also reach the same conclusion. A sign relates only to other signs within its system, not the external world. Unlike Saussure, Peirce’s tripartite model of sign consists of the real object (see Appendix C). This shows that Peirce believes that reality can be somehow truly represented by signs. However, he also admits that the ways to make a true representation “lie beyond the reach of the individual.”60 The representation of truth can be attained in a collective way over a long period of time.61 We can say that in Peirce’s view reality can be reached eventually by symbolic means, but it is a grand enterprise of humanity that we call science (think Newton’s and Einstein’s equations for an example). Saussure (a linguist) and Peirce (a logician/philosopher) clearly have different agendas and focuses. Nevertheless, by both views reality is still elusive, hard to grasp by the way of symbolic representations. At this point, it is fairly plausible to say that in any single representational event, meaning, hence understanding, is vulnerable. As John Fiske tells us, “[m]eaning is not an absolute, static concept to be found neatly parcelled up in the message. Meaning is an active process.”62 Meaning is not stable, not only because we have such a cognitive mechanism, not only because the way we use signs is changing over time, but the codes in cultural matrix itself is also changing. Umberto Eco (1976) wrote “In exchanging messages and texts, judgments and mentions, people contribute to the changing of codes.”63 Also, a dialectic of messages and codes can “reconstruct the codes.”64 58 In

Thai, mah (หมา) has pejorative connotation. 1958, p. 20§43 60 Silverman 1983, p. 17 61 Peirce 1931–58, §5.407–§5.408 62 Fiske 1990, p. 45 63 Eco 1976, p. 152, emphasis in original 64 p. 161 59 Wittgenstein

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E.2. Understanding Terry Eagleton also remarks a similar point, “texts are ‘codeproductive’ and ‘code-transgressive’ as well as ‘code-confirming’: they may teach us new ways of reading, not just reinforce the ones with which we come equipped.”65 What Eagleton has in mind is literary text, which is a prominent domain of linguistic signs. Now we can make a progress by addressing this question: Is ritual a kind of text? In cultural studies, ritual can be seen analogously as “culturally produced texts”66 that can be read and interpreted as a literary work. However, the word ‘text’ itself has different uses in different fields of study. To make it more specific, let us go back to semiotics to find some definitions. Marcel Danesi differentiates text from message. For him, A text is “a composite structure consisting of smaller sign elements.”67 Putting a number of signs together in a coherent way constitutes a text, for example, a mathematical equation, a novel, a poem, a musical composition, a conversation, and so on. On the other hand, a message is the meaning(s) encoded by text.68 Put it another way, text is a bunch of signs put together in a systematic way, according to a particular code. Text is like a box, consisting of parts (signs), having a correct way to open and close it. Message is what is in the box; we cannot perceive it directly. Meaning is the comprehension or perception of that message by opening the box in the right way, conforming to the code used (selected by a corresponding context). Semiotically speaking, a message can have multiple meanings and several messages can have the same meaning69 , according to codes and context. There must be a right way to reach the ‘true’ meaning. This concern will be addressed below. According to discourse analysts, a text is any ‘communicative event’70 that utilizes symbolic representations. By this widest definition, ritual definitely can be seen as a text, because it has a sign-system encoded into a series of actions organized by certain cultural code. A prominent scholar who tries to read cultural phenomena as 65 Eagleton

1996, p. 109 and Fischer 1999, p. 61 67 Danesi 2007, p. 98 68 pp. 97–8 69 Danesi 2004, p. 16 70 Titscher et al. 2000, p. 21 66 Marcus

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual text is Clifford Geertz. For him, ritual is a symbolic platform through which “the world as lived and the world as imagined … turn out to be the same world.”71 By this view, ritual fuses the real and the ideal into a course of actions by symbolic means, thus we can read to elicit ‘meaning’ out of it. Now we hold that ritual, as a cultural product, is a kind of text that can be read, interpreted, and understood. The coming problem will be “What is the right way to read, interpret, and understand ritual?” The problem sits at the heart of my theoretical undertaking. For how to read ritual, we have dealt with this meticulously in previous accounts by various dimensions. It is much like reading an archaic, cryptic book by breaking down its components and reading it part by part. Not just the contents are analyzed, every precise aspect must be investigated carefully. We have already done this, at least in conceptual level. Now we will address how to interpret what we read from texts. By so doing, the understanding of texts is supposed to be reached. The task is not easy. We need another discipline to get involved called hermeneutics.

E.3. Hermeneutics Hermeneutics came from Latin hermeneutica which came from Greek hermeneia.72 The term is associated with Hermes, the messenger-god with winged feet. There are three directions of meaning of the word using as a verb: (a) to express, (b) to explain, and (c) to translate.73 The word was retranslated into another Latin term—interpretatio. This makes, according to Keane and Lawn, the contemporary use of hermeneutics is restricted exclusively to the activity of interpretation.74 The most common definition of the term as a discipline is “the art or science of interpretation,” sometimes the “theory of interpretation”.75 There are three interconnected aspects of hermeneutics used nowadays: 71 Geertz

1973, p. 112 and Lawn 2016, p. 1 73 Palmer 1969, p. 13 74 Keane and Lawn 2016, p. 1 75 Malpas 2015, p. 1 72 Keane

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E.3. Hermeneutics [a] … the concrete process of understanding as the task of explicating and assessing our interpretation of texts …; [b] … the historical centrality of establishing a rule for the proper use of interpretation …; and [c] … the philosophical theory and method with which we can fix or ascertain the nature, character, conditions, and limits of every possible act of understanding …76 The first aspect is the whole process of interpretation, the act of sense making. This can be applied to our current work as far as we regard ritual as a text. We can call our enterprise accordingly a hermeneutics of ritual, but I am not going to use that mouthful term. The second aspect is problematic to us because there is no established rule for interpreting ritual like literary texts, but we can build up some. The last aspect is our focal point, the main reason we bring hermeneutics into account. This reflects that the very reason interpretation needs a vigorous approach is it is really perplexing how to come up with the correct one. By this view, hermeneutics itself is philosophy, and philosophy is a kind of hermeneutics—having an interpretive nature.77 Three domains that heavily deal with the problems of interpretation are law, religion, and literature, because texts are the central concern of these areas. Accordingly, interpreting culturally produced text like ritual can gain some merit from the discipline. We shall see how far we can go. Although we can trace the science of interpretation back to the antiquity, it is Friedrich Schleiermacher in the early nineteenth century who established it as a discipline. For him, hermeneutics is “the art of understanding.”78 By his time (in 1819), he said there is none of such a field. In a nutshell, understanding, to Schleiermacher, is “the reexperiencing of the mental processes of the text’s author.”79 We can ‘feel’ as the author via understanding linguistic designations used in the text, because he believes that “the innateness of language modifies the mind.”80 We can see the same line of thought 76 Keane

and Lawn 2016, p. 1 2015, p. 1 78 Schleiermacher 1998, p. 5 79 Palmer 1969, p. 86 80 Schleiermacher 1998, p. 9 77 Malpas

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual of Hamann, Herder, and Humboldt which became Sapir-Whorf hypothesis mentioned earlier. If language affects thought, understanding its use can lead to understanding the author’s mind. As I raised the issue of understanding previously, by this stance I call the real understanding— having the same mental states of the author. But as we have learned so far, the mediacy and intricacy of signs and signification render such understanding impossible. The author might have a definite intention to express some idea. Once it is converted into words, the clarity is gone, because ambiguities are rife in every level of language processing (see above). To claim that reading text is able to rebuild the author’s mind is untenable. In literary studies, the notion of author has been downplayed since W. K. Wimsatt Jr. and M. C. Beardsley published their famous essay “The Intentional Fallacy” in 1946. In the article, they argue that “the design or intention of the author is neither available nor desirable as a standard for judging the success of a work of literary art.”81 This does not mean, by Wimsatt and Beardsley, that the intention of the author is inaccessible to us. It is there in the text. But critics, as well as readers, should play attention mainly to the text itself. The author’s life, thoughts, desires, experiences, and predicaments are irrelevant to the work. In other words, it is unnecessary, or even undesirable, that the meaning of the work is solely dictated by the author. When we read a poem, which is usually cryptic, can we interpret it by ourselves in a meaningful way regardless of what the author tries to say? This question has a great impact in literary studies. Who should get benefit from the literary art, the author or the readers? By this view, the intention of the text is still accessible from the text, but we should set it aside when we read the text. This position goes totally opposite to Schleiermacher’s concern of interpretation. Text cannot means whatever we want it to mean. There must be an authoritative determination of meaning. This position is asserted by E. D. Hirsch. If text “means what it says, then it means nothing in particular”.82 Text cannot mean anything the reader want, the true meaning only comes from the 81 Wimsatt 82 Hirsch

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Jr. and Beardsley 1946, p. 468 1967, p. 13

E.3. Hermeneutics intention of the author. Hirsch also distinguishes this meaning from significance which he means “any perceived relationship between construed verbal meaning and something else.”83 This could mean one text can have a variety of significance upon different readers, but it has only one (true) meaning. From my point of view, Hirsch’s argument sounds reasonable, for most of the time (we think) we can get the author right. If it is not so, literature criticism turns useless, because it lacks a ground to stand on. However, believing that the author is a unified person who consciously has a clear, consistent intention in producing the whole work is, as far as cognitive psychology can tell us, a mistake. In works that their authors no longer exist for a long time, to get the whole thing right sounds unlikely. And sometimes the primary intention does not really matter. It is true for the case of ritual as well. Before we go on discussing hermeneutics, there are some idea around the notion of the author that we should bring to our consideration. In 1967, Roland Barthes published a more radical article declaring “The Death of the Author.” He puts it this way: Linguistically, the author is never more than the instance writing, just as I is nothing other than the instance saying I : language knows a ‘subject’, not a ‘person’, and this subject, empty outside of the very enunciation which defines it, suffices to make language ‘hold together’, suffices, that is to say, to exhaust it.84 By this account, the person who produces the text does not exist in the first place, hence dead. What we perceive as an agent recounting the story is just a ‘subject’ posited by language. It is much like what Michel Foucault calls author-function in his 1969 lecture “What is an Author?” Author-function is not an individual attributed to a particular discourse. It is “a result of complex operation that construct a certain being of reason that we call ‘author’.”85 It is complex because, according to Barthes, text is “a multidimensional space in which a variety of writings, none of them 83 p.

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual original, blend and clash.”86 Nowadays, we call the notion of text as “a tissue of quotations”87 intertextuality, coined by Julia Kristeva.88 Although Wimsatt and Beardsley have a different view on the author comparing to Barthes, the result is similar because the death of the author entails “the birth of the reader.”89 In terms of ritual, the notion of author does not matter much indeed, because who wrote the ritual script is hard to identify. But the author-function is there nonetheless. Moreover, the reader, or the participants of ritual, can improvise the script to some extent. As Caroline Humphrey and James Laidlaw note that a peculiar aspect of ritual is “the actors both are, and are not, the authors of their acts” (p. 5).90 The primary intention of ritual, because of its inaccessibility, does not matter much, more than its immediate intention. There is much to say about ritual in this regard, but it is better to continue on hermeneutics. As a method for understanding, hermeneutics has a kind of conceptual framework known as the hermeneutic circle. The whole makes the parts understood, and the parts make the whole understood. The idea preexists Schleiermacher. It was from philologist Friedrich Ast in the early nineteenth century who used “the spiritual unity of the humanities” as the basis of hermeneutic circle. It sounds Hegelian (or Vedantic, if you like) for the “spirit (Geist) is the source of all development and all becoming, the imprint of the spirit of the whole is found in the individual part; the part is understood from the whole and the whole from the inner harmony of its parts.”91 And Schleiermacher himself wrote: “Complete knowledge is always in this apparent circle, that each particular can only be understood via the general, of which it is a part, and vice versa.”92 The circle can operate in every level of interpretation starting from linguistics (grammatical) to wider context (e.g., psychic life of the author) and interaction between the two. As I understand it, we start with the disconnected parts by understanding them piece by piece. When we know all parts, put 86 Barthes

1977, p. 146 146 88 Wolfreys, Robbins, and Womack 2006, pp. 57–8 89 Barthes 1977, p. 148 90 Humphrey and Laidlaw 1994, p. 5 91 Palmer 1969, p. 77 92 Schleiermacher 1998, p. 24 87 p.

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E.3. Hermeneutics them together to understand them as a coherent whole. Then using this understanding adjusts its parts and in turn adjusts the whole. Repeating the process again and again, we will find the true understanding at the end. This sounds probable but endless, because we will never reach the perfect understanding. As noted by Jeff Malpas, “[i]nterpretation never comes to an end— or, at least, any ending to which interpretation comes is always temporary, always contingent, always open to revision.”93 This hermeneutic circle is a pressing problem of the field that later thinkers try to tackle. The next figure who developed hermeneutics after Schleiermacher was Wilhelm Dilthey. For him, hermeneutics is “the theory of the rules of interpreting written monuments.”94 Dilthey does not go far from Schleiermacher, but focuses more on understanding which he holds as “an essential component in the foundation of the human sciences.”95 For him, understanding is not a rational conception as we use in mathematics. Understanding is “the operation in which the mind grasps the ‘mind’ (Geist) of the other person.”96 Dilthey believes that universally valid interpretation is possible, and can “be derived from the nature of understanding” which we all share as “a general human nature.”97 Like Schleiermacher, Dilthey believes that we can reexperience the author’s life by understanding his or her works, “works in which the texture of inner life comes fully to expression.”98 He also talks about hermeneutic circle in a wider sense: “This circle repeats itself in the relation between an individual work and the development and spiritual tendencies of its author, and it returns again in the relation between an individual work and its literary genre.”99 This means that the circle is not confined to one individual work, but the whole life of the author! To understand one’s work, we must understand his or her spiritual life. Moreover, we must understand others’ works which constitute the genre to understand the place of one’s work within it. This 93 Malpas

94 Dilthey 95 p.

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2015, p. 3 1996, p. 238

96 Palmer

1969, pp. 114–5 1996, pp. 248–9 98 Palmer 1969, p. 114 99 Dilthey 1996, p. 249 97 Dilthey

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual makes the task more difficult than we think formerly, perhaps impossible. Dilthey admits that it can “never be completed.”100 We can see that understanding for Dilthey goes beyond understanding mere literary works. We have to understand historical and psychological life of the author as well. This leads us to understanding of the life itself. This line of thinking has an influence on subsequent thinkers, particularly Martin Heidegger. Before we go to Heidegger, there is a point worth mentioning in Dilthey’s approach. Dilthey makes a distinction between understanding and explanation. For him, explanation occurs in the natural sciences, whereas understanding occurs in the human sciences.101 Or as cited by Richard Palmer, “[t]he sciences explain nature, the human studies understand expressions of life.”102 Dilthey uses understanding for the comprehension of the individual mentality which is expressed into his or her works. That is the main task of hermeneutics which can “transcend the reductionist objectivity of the sciences and return to the fullness of ‘life,’ of human experience.”103 This view can be in a way at odds with mine. For me, as described above, this (true) understanding is untenable; we are able to understand only in the realm of signs—relations between signs in a coherent way within their system. Dilthey himself admits that the inner life is ineffable104 ; if so how can it be represented with signs? This sounds inconceivable to me. However, we can go this way. If understanding is subjective to an individual, explanation is that understanding made objective to achieve certain collective understanding. The two closely work together in a dialectic way. As Paul Ricoeur sees them, “understanding without explanation is blind while explanation without understanding is empty.”105 By this view, the distinction between understanding and explanation as described by Dilthey should be discarded, because they can happen in both sciences. Now we come to the most difficult figure of all hermeneutic theorists, Martin Heidegger. I can only recount some of his idea that relevant to what we have focused so far in order to pave a 100 Dilthey

1996, p. 249 2006, p. 33 102 Palmer 1969, p. 105 103 p. 105 104 Dilthey 1996, p. 249 105 Schmidt 2006, p. 159 101 Schmidt

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E.3. Hermeneutics way to a more significant theorist in the field, Gadamer. Heidegger embraces phenomenology introduced by Edmund Husserl to approach his philosophy. By the term, its core meaning is to describe experience without any presupposition upon that experience. By so doing, “[e]xplanations are not to be imposed before the phenomena have been understood from within.”106 This manifestation is revealing something “as it is.” It should not be construed as a secondary form of referring, as when something “seems to be something else.”107 But Heidegger’s approach is quite different from Husserl. He thinks Husserl still presupposes the duality of subject-object: Someone (ego) is confronting with something (object). In Heidegger’s view, “the subject does not attach meaning to an experienced object, but rather that the meaning is already there as soon as the so-called object is present.”108 This sounds mystic like Eastern religions from which I try to stay away, but this can set the tone of his hermeneutics as we shall see. Like Schleiermacher and Dilthey, Heidegger sees understanding as the basis of all interpretation, but, for him, understanding has ontological status. This means understanding is not something to be possessed, like I have some understanding, but rather “a mode or constituent element of being-in-the-world.”109 It might be helpful to quote Richard Palmer in full: For Heidegger, understanding is the power to grasp one’s own possibilities for being, within the context of the life world in which one exists. It is not a special capacity or gift for feeling into the situation of another person, nor is it the power to grasp the meaning of some “expression of life” on a deeper level.110 We can see a difference from the former thinkers here. Understanding is about one’s own not other’s or any other meaningful things. Despite its religious tone, an influence of this aspect of understanding was not a religionlike doctrine, but a movement called existentialism, especially the philosophy of Sean-Paul Sartre. 106 Moran

2000, p. 4 1969, p. 128 108 Schmidt 2006, p. 51 109 Palmer 1969, p. 131 110 p. 131 107 Palmer

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual The center of understanding is not other’s mind or something meaningful, but being itself. Heidegger has a word for this being— Dasein—which literally means ‘there-being’111 , or ‘being-there’ by some translators. And the task of hermeneutics is “to interpret Dasein to itself.”112 Hermeneutics is not theory of interpretation, Heidegger insists, but rather “[i]n hermeneutics what is developed for Dasein is a possibility of its becoming and being for itself in the manner of an understanding of itself.”113 We can take some breath for a relief here. We might think why we get another thing when we just ask for something. What we want to know is how to understand or interpret text, but Heidegger drags us to a muddy ground and says “Know being, know all,” then he leaves us bogged down. Is it just irrelevant? Or some ‘higher’, ‘deeper’ meaning of this koan-like riddle is needed to be construed? Here is a clue. In Introduction to Metaphysics, Heidegger notes that “words and language are not just shells into which things are packed for spoken and written intercourse. In the word, in language, things first come to be and are.”114 By this cryptic idea, we can say that words reflect our being. To understand one’s work is to understand his or her being-in-the-world, hence Dasein. However, the task is not straightforward as phenomenology expects, because “interpretation is never a presuppositionless grasping of something previously given.”115 This leads us to the problem of hermeneutic circle. Let us recount the idea again. To reproduce the same experience of the author the interpreter must ‘perform’ the text by preunderstanding “the subject and the situation before he [or she] can enter the horizon of its meaning.”116 This means that we have to know something in advance, before we start the partwhole interactive circle, otherwise the job will never begin. It is a kind of hermeneutic kick-start, so to speak. Heidegger calls this fore-structure of understanding which has three parts: forehaving, foresight, and fore-conception.117 111 Schmidt

2006, p. 52 55 113 Heidegger 1999, p. 11, emphasis in original 114 Heidegger 2000, p. 15 115 Heidegger 2010, p. 146 116 Palmer 1969, p. 25 117 Heidegger 2010, pp. 145–6 112 p.

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E.3. Hermeneutics To put it simpler, as an interpreter, we have our own understanding of the world, of the work we are going to interpret, and of the author both historically and psychologically. We indispensibly have these, otherwise we cannot do the interpretation. It is like a prerequisite of the task. Seeing this as a kind of Kantian innate (a priori) knowledge which determines our perception, or as the cognitive infrastructure which make our perception and memory constructive, can give us more sense. This pre-knowledge prevents us from seeing the text as it is. What is there, Heidegger remarks, “is nothing other than the self-evident, undiscussed prejudice … of the interpreter.”118 This notion of prejudice is important to the later development by Gadamer, as we shall see. This shows that in Heidegger’s view, we cannot escape the hermeneutic circle, “not to get out of the circle, but to get into it in the right way.”119 By the right way, he means that fore-structures of understanding must be based on the things themselves.120 I cannot give any clearer explanation for this, so we move on. Hans-Georg Gadamer, a student of Heidegger, developed the discipline further based on Heidegger’s hermeneutic ontology. By his greatness, the field of hermeneutics is usually associated with his name. For Gadamer, hermeneutics is philosophy, and understanding is “the ontological process in man.”121 By his own definition, hermeneutics means “basic being-in-motion of Dasein that constitutes its finitude and historicity, and hence embraces the whole of its experience of the world.”122 Simply put, understanding is our very structure of human being, and the task of hermeneutics is to disclose that understanding to us, so does philosophy. He thus calls his approach philosophical hermeneutics. Following Heidegger, Gadamer notes, understanding is “the original form of the realization of Dasein, which is being-in-theworld.”123 And “the structure of Dasein is thrown projection.”124 Lawrence Schmidt explains this to us: “In being-in-the-world, Dasein is thrown, discovering itself to be always and already within 118 p.

146, emphasis added 148 120 Schmidt 2006, p. 76 121 Palmer 1969, p. 163 122 Gadamer 2004, p. xxvii 123 p. 250, emphasis in original 124 p. 254 119 p.

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual a historical context and so having a past” (p. 98).125 Understanding a text become understanding life itself, as Gadamer puts it, “for understanding the expressions of life or of texts[,] … it still remains true that all such understanding is ultimately self-understanding.”126 Let us mull over this for a moment. If Dasein can be realized as being-in-the-world, there must be unrealized Dasein somewhere. This primal Dasein is thrown into the world and finds itself as a being bounded with its historical context. To understand is to realize ourselves as being-in-the-world. By this account, a picture of Brahman-Atman relationship in Advaita Vedanta comes to my mind. I might get it wrong, but as a reader, why can’t I? Moving to an important point, Gadamer uses the term prejudice to stand for Heidegger’s three fore-structures. In German, the term neutrally means prejudgement without negative connotation. Before we can understand something, we must be equipped with prerequisite knowledge with some values laden. From such prejudices, all understanding begins. Schmidt explains this: “The thrownness of understanding implies that all our prejudices are inherited from our past in the process of acculturation.”127 Therefore it has no way for all of us to escape this condition. The way to deal with hermeneutic circle, in the same line of Heidegger, is not to escape it, for it cannot be done, but to find legitimate prejudices. The problem is then shifted to “what is the ground of the legitimacy of prejudices.”128 One answer of this is the legitimization from authority and tradition, “the other is superior to oneself in judgment and insight and that for this reason his judgment takes precedence.”129 At this point, the notion of horizon comes into play. Prejudices constitute the “horizon of a particular present, for they represent that beyond which it is impossible to see.”130 The use of horizon is appropriate here. It marks the boundary of our knowledge or prejudices that we brought with us. Like the skyline, horizon can be changed by moving oneself to another 125 Schmidt

2006, p. 98 2004, p. 251, emphasis in original 127 Schmidt 2006, p. 101 128 Gadamer 2004, p. 278 129 p. 281 130 p. 305 126 Gadamer

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E.3. Hermeneutics territory, hence by adopting other’s prejudices or dropping one’s own prejudices. Gadamer asserts that “understanding is always the fusion of [past and present] horizons.”131 As an interpreter, we have our present horizon, so does the tradition has a past horizon projected onto the text we read. Understanding comes from uniting both horizons together. Gadamer puts it this way, the “understanding of something written is not a repetition of something past but the sharing a present meaning.”132 It seems enough for Gadamer. Let me make some reflection. In understanding some text, is it justifiable to read it in my own terms? Unlike literary critics of the intentional fallacy who liberate the reader, Gadamer would say “Not (fair) enough, you must fuse with the author’s prejudices also.” So, two sets of prejudices make a balance. The primary question comes up, “What is it really meant then?” Text that its author and original audience are no longer existed is already divorced from its own context, and only a unified imaginary author can we reproduce. It swings back to our own prejudices. That is to say, we construct the horizon of the author out of our horizon and make them look different, but in fact they are all in our horizon—the only one we have. Bringing Paul Ricoeur into account may help illustrate the point. We “have to guess the meaning of the text because the author’s intention is beyond our reach.”133 That is the straightforward starting point. Here is the reason: “There is no necessity, no evidence, concerning what is important and what is unimportant. The judgment of importance is itself a guess.”134 Our guess is based on our prejudices in Gadamer’s sense. We finally guess the possible meanings of the text, open it “to several readings.”135 It is not all about guesswork, however, because all the guesses must be validated by “logic of probability”—“To show that an interpretation is more probable [than another interpretation] in the light of that we know is something other than showing that a conclusion is true.”136 By this view, we must adopt a critical stance to assess the interpretation we have done, as well as a 131 p.

305, emphasis in original 394 133 Ricoeur 1976, p. 75 134 p. 77 135 p. 78 136 p. 78, 79 132 p.

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual suspicious view toward the text137 , not just accept everything and combine them together. How can we use these accounts from hermeneutics to understand ritual? As we have seen, applying the method directly seems to fail, because there is no clear prescription of the method in hermeneutics. Gadamer really admits that “[t]here is no hermeneutic method.”138 It provides us only some conceptual frameworks. We can ‘fuse’ these to our perspective. The notion of understanding is important here. Hermeneutics teaches us that understanding the object in hand is not just the investigation of the object. The relation between the subject (we who study the object) and the object must also be taken into consideration, as well as the historical context in which the two stand. To understand ritual is not just having explanations why such and such things happen. We must address the question “Why does this ritual matter to us?” as well. Even though I do not answer this question outright, I conduct the research with this concern and it brings back a more understanding in myself in turn.

E.4. Knowledge From understanding, now we move to collections of understanding which I put into the center of this ritual dimension—knowledge. I use this simple definition of knowledge from a general use: “The sum or range of what has been perceived, discovered, or learned.”139 Knowledge by this sense is a collective instance of understanding. When we gain a good number of understanding and form it into a system, we get knowledge. The notion of knowledge in epistemology is more complicated than this. The most common Platonic definition is “justified true belief.” I will stay away from any philosophical debate on this area. My ‘knowledge’ simply used here needs no justification or truth-test for reasons explained in due course. Let me recount a scenario. When we have a direct perception, or are aware, of something, it is not yet an understanding. Once we represent it with a symbolic system and relate it into the existing symbolic network we have (i.e., interpretation), we gain an 137 Schmidt

2006, p. 160 2015, p. 92 139 https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=knowledge 138 Simms

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E.4. Knowledge understanding. And if we can put it in an intelligible account, we have an explanation. The collections of these understandings, or in a tangible form—explanations, are knowledge. Like understanding able to be transferred or reproduced by articulation (explanation), knowledge can be done so by teaching-learning process, and other forms of communication, usually with a mass. By this account, knowledge can be private (collections of our internal understanding) or collective (which can be reproduced via explanations). My point is that if ritual has symbolic implications, it can be used to reproduce knowledge in social level which in turn form certain understanding in personal level. I am quite surprised at finding that my notion of knowledge fittingly goes with that of Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann, as noted by Doyle McCarthy: “[Their] treatise subsumed knowledges within a framework of interpretation, a hermeneutics that was decidedly cultural and semiotic, concerned with the symbolic and signifying operations of knowledges.”140 The treatise mentioned is The Social Construction of Reality.141 However, ritual can do more than that construction as we shall see toward the end of our discussion. As we have seen from my accounts so far, perception, memory, and understanding are all constructive processes. They are not just reflections or passive recording. By our biological, neurological, psychological bases, what we know is not things out there, but a coherently constructed whole by multilevel interpretive systems. This is also true in the level of language and social cognition. That is to say, the reality appearing to us is constructed all the way down. I hold this account as a scientific fact, not a philosophical speculation. Is it not really a shaggy dog making some noise over there? Why can we read the same books, understand the same ideas, and get a degree out of them—if we construct them all? In the universe of signs, we can gain the same interpretive results because we share the same codes (in semiotics’s terminology) and value (in Saussure’s sense). And in a particular social setting, people share some collective fore-structures (in Heidegger’s terms), or prejudices (in Gadamer’s terms), that lead them to mostly the same understanding. Knowledge is constructed collectively, so to 140 McCarthy 141 Berger

2007, p. 2484 and Luckmann 1966

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual speak. The dog problem is more complicated to explain, because it entails a discussion of scientific knowledge on objectivity. I would answer ‘Yes,’ something is reflecting the light, making noise, standing there. But what we register to our conceptual network as an entity is constructed, and we use that concept as a sign, more precisely as an index to that bunch of dancing particles. What we really see is just a tiny part of a complex entity; we can only see a contingent image of the dog at a moment, but the conceptual image we create stands for the whole dog. We create a general representation out of a changing particular, and we mistake the sign for the real since then. By this account, scientific knowledge looks more objective because it maintains empirical indexicality of signs. Electron is not just a hollow sign, it points to a kind of electrical thing independent of our perception (if not concerned wave-particle duality). Manipulating current of electrons symbolically in a right way as engineers do can give us a real power generator or a radio receiver. But, representing abstract concepts is far more problematic, because signs used in this case are mostly ambiguous. Comparing electron with our shaggy dog, some respect of reality can be found, but comparing with a spirit, a pure concept, a clear difference is undeniable. This loophole of signs is the starting point of all socially constructed knowledge. If signs are seen as a tool, it is clear that they can be used both for a good result (to fulfill their primary purpose) or a bad result (to fulfill the user’s interest). The interest of the user undermines arbitrariness of signs. Let us revisit this concept of Saussure for a moment. In Saussurean principle, selecting a representation (signifier) for a concept (signified) is an arbitrary process. Every language has its own term equivalent to ‘dog’ in English, for instance. There is no natural connection between the terms and the object whatsoever—‘unmotivated’ as Saussure calls it.142 It is not motivated because it is not “governed by any outside constraint.”143 Nevertheless, he also admits that “[t]here is no language in which nothing is motivated.”144 Onomatopoeia, words which sound like 142 Saussure

1959, p. 69 and Ringham 2006, p. 247 144 Saussure 1959, p. 133 143 Martin

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E.4. Knowledge their meaning, is a clear example of this, such as hiss, buzz, and meow. Roman Jakobson also remarks that the Saussurean arbitrariness of sign is ‘illusory.’145 More recently, the issue of arbitrariness has been under attack by discourse analysts. As Gunther Kress puts it: “The relation of signifier to signified, in all human semiotic systems, is always motivated, and is never arbitrary.”146 What make signs motivated, in Kress’s view, are the sign producer’s interest and characteristics of the object.147 To make the point more reasonable, tracing back to biological root may be helpful. Discussing the evolution of communication in a former part (Appendix C), we found that signals used in animals serve a variety of purposes. It is true that we do not produce mental representations to entertain only ourselves. We also produce ‘public representations’ for others.148 The main purpose is to communicate meaning that enables other individuals to acquire knowledge without direct perception. That is the good part. The whole civilization is fundamentally based on this means of transferring valuable knowledge. On the other side, as Gloria Origgi and Dan Sperber notes, apart from cooperation, “[communication] can be used for manipulation, deceit, display of wit, seduction and maintenance of social relationships, all of which have fitness consequences”.149 In Metarepresentations, Sperber concludes that it is not communication per se the ability to use metarepresentations has to do with. It is for “competition, exploitation, and co-operation.”150 Origgi and Sperber, again, remarks that “[c]o-operation is vulnerable to free-riding, which, in the case of communication, takes the form of manipulation and deception.”151 The examples mentioned in communicative dimension can illustrate the point (see Appendix C). Biologically speaking, both message producers and message receivers should gain some benefit from communication. If only one side gets the advantage at the expense of the other, the be145 Jakobson 146 Kress 147 p.

173

1971, p. 524 1993, p. 173

148 Sperber

1994, p. 54 and Sperber 2000, p. 141 150 Sperber 2000b, p. 127 151 Origgi and Sperber 2000, p. 161 149 Origgi

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual haviors “would be likely to have been selected out.”152 Yet, the exploitation of communication is ubiquitous. Another ability that plays a major role in communication is mind reading (see the discussion about mirror neurons above). In order to inject a false information, one must know the other’s intention, i.e., able to read mind of the others.153 This makes the issue of communication more complex, because communication, cooperation, manipulation, and mind-reading are closely intertwined. They all co-evolved. I will leave this complication here, and approach it simply. Communication, language, and metarepresentations are our tools. They are normatively neutral and can be used in various ways. If they obtain a good result (for the user), their use survives. The problem of how it is possible that they can be used in a bad way is still difficult to deal with. It is a ‘hot potato’ issue, because evidence seems not to go with principles, at least in an expected way. Mumbling ‘interesting’ to ourselves in this situation can make some relief. As Dan Sperber ends his 2001 article, “the epistemic norms implicit in the process of communication … are to a limited but interesting extent at odds with the very function of communication.”154

E.5. Ideology and discourse By the fact that non-neutrality of symbolic use is determined by some other interest rather than its direct function, we have to take a closer look at how it has been done seamlessly. The notion of ideology may be helpful, but I hesitate to bring it into play, because ideology is one of the terms that is used, abused, disused, and reused in several circumstances. It is nearly useless as a worn utensil. The word itself is highly ‘motivated.’ However, this can link us to works from scholars who still use the term significantly. So, now we take a short trip to ideology tour. Terry Eagleton enumerates 16 definitions of ideology used in various places. The list is quite helpful to capture the raw ideas, so I quote it in full. 152 Sperber

2001 and Sperber 2000, p. 163; see also Krebs and Dawkins 1984 154 Sperber 2001, p. 413 153 Origgi

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E.5. Ideology and discourse (a) the process of production of meanings, signs and values in social life; (b) a body of ideas characteristic of a particular social group or class; (c) ideas which help to legitimate a dominant political power; (d) false ideas which help to legitimate a dominant political power; (e) systematically distorted communication; (f) that which offers a position for a subject; (g) forms of thought motivated by social interests; (h) identity thinking; (i) socially necessary illusion; (j) the conjuncture of discourse and power; (k) the medium in which conscious social actors make sense of their world; (l) action-oriented sets of beliefs; (m) the confusion of linguistic and phenomenal reality; (n) semiotic closure; (o) the indispensable medium in which individuals live out their relations to a social structure; (p) the process whereby social life is converted to a natural reality.155 In fact, these are not Eagleton’s intended definitions. He proposes six more elaborated definitions which I will not mention here.156 I find this list more interesting and ‘unmotivated.’ It seems that what we have discussed so far can fall within the meaning areas provided by the list. I find four crucial elements in these definitions. The first is signs and signifying process— the meaning making and communication (a, e, k, m, n, o). The second is knowledge which is the result of the first, including understanding, ideas, and beliefs (b, c, d, g, h, i, l, p). The third is the subject, the agent who the first two play with by defining or locating (f). And the last is interest, the purpose and benefit of the first two. If the interest is unbalanced at the expense of the subject, negative connotation is implied. 155 Eagleton 156 See

1991, pp. 1–2 pp. 28–30

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual To make the picture clearer, I draw descriptions from Kathryn Woolard who identifies four contemporary uses of the concept into additional account. The four ‘strands’ are (i) subjective representations, beliefs, or ideas; (ii) social position and its particular interests; (iii) linkage to social, political, and economic power; and (iv) distortion, illusion, error, mystification, or rationalization.157 The key concepts fall not so far from my analysis above. The simplest treatment of the use of ideology comes from John B. Thompson who differentiates two ways of using the term: (1) a neutral conception describing ideology as “systems of thought,” and (2) a critical conception linking ideology to “the process of sustaining asymmetrical relation of power.”158 By my digest, it is useful to drop the term and use the specific concepts mentioned instead. Why don’t I mention power here? According to Michel Foucault, “power is everywhere not because it embraces everything, but because it comes from everywhere.”159 I rather agree with this idea of pervasive and non-unidirectional power. If power is everywhere, there is no need to talk about it. Moreover, every move needs power. If there is no power, nothing can be done. However, a dominant power is more capable than weaker ones, and this relates closely to knowledge as we shall see. Accordingly, ideology is everywhere and indispensable in the same way as pre-structures of understanding (Heidegger’s) or prejudices (Gadamer’s) affects our knowledge. That is to say, “all of our thinking might be said to be ideological.”160 Even our common sense, as seen by Norman Fairclough, is substantially ideological, but not entirely.161 By this, Foucault and his followers, including me in this thesis, discard ideology altogether and replace it with discourse. Eventually, we reach the main term I use as the name of this ritual dimension. Now, we delve further into the idea. In earlier discussions, I mentioned discourse several times, but in the general sense, which means simply an utterance or groupings of utterances used mainly for communication between individuals. Now discourse will expand its meaning up to social level 157 Woolard

1998, pp. 5–7 1984, p. 4 159 Foucault 1978, p. 93 160 Eagleton 1991, p. 4 161 Fairclough 1989, p. 84 158 Thompson

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E.5. Ideology and discourse and can take other form than in language. The concept closes to the notion of text discussed above. Generally speaking, text is neutral like an artifact. We can read it in many ways. A particular reading of text begets a particular understanding depending on interests and prejudices. A result of the reading is a discourse. When a text “is realised in a knowable context,” it is a discourse.162 The distinction now looks blurred, because the notion of neutral text is in fact illusory. Text is composed of signs, and no sign is neutral or free from any prejudged value. It is this value, as Saussure tells us, that gives meaning to signs. Nevertheless, I still maintain the distinction between text and discourse in general use, even if in deeper level they are the same thing. In The Order of Things (first published in 1970), Michel Foucault defines discourse simply as “representation itself represented by verbal signs.”163 But for him it is not just utterances for communication. Discourse also defines its context. For example, in a workplace we use a typical discourse including concepts as workloads, salary levels, and customer satisfaction. Outside the workplace context, we talk in a different way using a different discourse. There are many forms of discourse. Scientific discourse characterized by its empirical orientation is a familiar one. Family members meeting at a sport club and a school use a different mode of discourse. Medical staffs use one discourse to communicate within their professional circle, and use another discourse to talk with patients who know nothing about the former discourse. This means that medical staffs are able to exercise their power “in a way that remains relatively unchallenged by others.”164 They can tell whether we are a sick person or not. Political discourse used by politicians is also evident in this regard. Discourse is therefore closely related to power and ability to exercise that power. However, as mentioned earlier, Foucault does not see power simply as an imposition from the upper classes, but rather as a way of both oppression and resistance. [D]iscourse can be both an instrument and an effect of power, but also a hindrance, a stumbling block, a 162 Green

and LeBihan 1996, p. 8 2002b, p. 90 164 Oliver 2010, p. 29 163 Foucault

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual point of resistance and a starting point for an opposing strategy. Discourse transmits and produces power; it reinforces it, but also undermines it and exposes it, renders it fragile and makes it possible to thwart it.165 In The Archaeology of Knowledge (first published in 1972), Foucault uses a more elaborate definition as “the general domain of all statements, sometimes as an individualizable group of statements, and sometimes as a regulated practice that accounts for a certain number of statements.”166 There are three meanings here. Firstly, discourse is utterances in general. Secondly, by adding “individualizable group of statements,” he means different forms of discourse as exemplified above. Lastly, by ‘regulated practices’ he means “the unwritten rules and structures which produce particular utterances and statements.”167 With these rules, some statements are more widely distributed, and some more restricted. This also can be seen as power in action. It is true that the uses of discourse by Foucault are not so uniform and consistent, but the association between discourse and power captures a number of critical-mind scholars and has a great impact. To make it clearer, I will stick to this practical use of discourse: “a strongly bounded area of social knowledge, a system of statements within which the world can be known.”168 The point is that the world is not simply there; “it is through discourse itself that the world is brought into being.”169 Knowledge therefore does not refer to an objective truth of the world, but rather “the social communication, attribution, and legitimization of what is accepted in a given society as knowledge.”170 A well-known tangible application of the concept is Orientalism (first published in 1978) by Edward Said who wrote: The Orient was viewed as if framed by the classroom, the criminal court, the prison, the illustrated manual. Orientalism, then, is knowledge of the Orient 165 Foucault

1978, p. 101 2002a, p. 91 167 Mills 2003, p. 54 168 Ashcroft, Griffiths, and Tiffin 2013, p. 83 169 p. 83 170 von Stuckrad 2013, p. 9; von Stuckrad 2014, p. 5 166 Foucault

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E.5. Ideology and discourse that places things Oriental in class, court, prison, or manual for scrutiny, study, judgment, discipline, or governing.171 Simply put, the Eastern world is defined by colonialism as savage, strange, and powerless. This definition justifies its control over the area. Orientalism, as put by William Hart, is a “Western style of domination and authority, through which the Orient is restructured.”172 However, this is not the whole story, because Said largely neglects German Orientalists, Max Müller for an exemplar, who has nothing to do with colonialism. Many Orientalist scholars feel in an opposite way that Eastern traditions in some respects are superior to the West.173 Moreover, knowledge given by the colonial domination made the local be aware of themselves and be able to challenge the colonialism itself. This shows that power can go in both ways as Foucault sees it. But I think he is ambivalent to this view when he talks about power and knowledge. As I tried to illustrate throughout the whole account; meaning, understanding, and ultimately knowledge have their significance not by signs or the instances of text, but rather from values, codes, and context that enable their possibility. These all are beyond control of individuals. They are collective entities. The only thing able to determine and control the collective is power. In Discipline and Punish, Foucault wrote: “In fact, power produces; it produces reality; it produces domains of objects and rituals of truth. The individual and the knowledge that may be gained of him belong to this production.”174 The use of “rituals of truth” by Foucault here is significant to us. If rituals are counterpart of objects, I think they possibly mean the practices constituted by the truth that power has constructed. This will lead to the next dimension of ritual as we shall see later. Not only does knowledge of what is real that power creates, the individual itself is also the upshot of the creation. We call this subjectivity or the subject position. An individual becomes a subject defined and located by knowledge we hold as 171 Said

2003, p. 41 D. Hart 2004, p. 66 173 Ashcroft and Ahluwalia 2001, p. 70 174 Foucault 1995, p. 194, emphasis added 172 W.

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E. Discursive dimension of ritual truth. Our identity and position in the society are made real by that knowledge. A clear example as mentioned above is that who is sick, i.e., a patient, is defined by dominant medical knowledge. And Foucault’s well-known example is that homosexuality is defined as a species by social discourses, not just a kind of sexual behavior.175 In the same vein, Judith Butler sees gender as a discursive construction, apart from biological sex. Interestingly, if we remember J. L. Austin’s performatives used in linguistics (see Appendix D), Butler likewise sees the construction as a performative. She remarks that “within the inherited discourse of the metaphysics of substance, gender proves to be performative—that is, constituting the identity it is purported to be.”176 We can see that, like utterances, discourses can exert force (illocutionary act) and produce an effect (perlocutionary act). The difference is utterances affect only in interpersonal level, whereas discourses can affect everyone in the society. By this token, ritual as a symbolic system can be seen as a discourse that postulates knowledge we hold as real. This account may illustrate the point. In The Obvious Aspects of Ritual, Roy Rappaport says “if there are to be words at all it is necessary to establish The Word, and that The Word is established by the invariance of liturgy.”177 By ‘The Word,’ he means ‘the Holy’ or any form of the ultimate that language has limitation to explain—he calls this ultimate sacred postulates (p. 117).178 This can be realized only by ritual that, according to Rappaport, predates the development of language.179 To Rappaport, ritual communicates but informationless. Informationlessness does not mean meaninglessness. The meaning conveyed here is certainty or unquestionableness180 in order of things. When ritual is performed, the unquestionable is realized and inevitably accepted. Rappaport aptly sums up this way: “The unfalsifiable supported by the undeniable yields the unquestionable, which transforms the dubious, the arbitrary, and the 175 Foucault

1978, p. 101 1990, p. 34 177 Rappaport 1979, p. 210, emphasis in original 178 p. 117 179 p. 211 180 p. 209; also Rappaport 1999, p. 281 176 Butler

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E.5. Ideology and discourse conventional into the correct, the necessary, and the natural.”181 By this view, ritual creates acceptance in whatever postulated as truth. I think what I have elaborated so far is enough to establish a ground for my analysis. Now our practical question is what to be analyzed in this discursive dimension. I draw the idea from a field called critical discourse analysis. A guideline from Norman Fairclough can be helpful. He says when language is used it always constitutes three things: (a) social identities, (b) social relations, and (c) system of knowledge and belief.182 We will apply these to our discursive analysis of ritual. The main question for discursive dimension What are social identities, social relations, and system of knowledge and belief created by the ritual?

181 Rappaport 182 Fairclough

1979, p. 217; Rappaport 1999, p. 405 1993, p. 134

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F. Constitutive dimension of ritual Here we come to the last part of our analytical model. My starting problem of this dimension is that I run out of appropriate terms to express the ideas. Let me explain this for a moment. At first start I named this dimension ‘manipulative’ to mean more or less as performative in social level. Because of its negative connotation, I decided to drop the term, not because symbolic representations are devoid of Machiavellian uses. As we have seen previously, manipulation often occurs in communication. Or as Frans van Eemeren puts it, “manipulation is always situated in a context of communication.”1 A marked characteristic of manipulation, noted by van Eemeren, is that the intention of the sender is always covert—unaware to the manipulated subject.2 By the same token, Eddo Rigotti elaborates a definition of manipulation as follows: A message is manipulative if it twists the vision of the world … in the mind of the addressee, so that he/she is prevented from having a healthy attitude towards decision (i.e., an attitude responding to his/her very interest), and pursues the manipulator’s goal in the illusion of pursuing her/his own goal.3 By this view, manipulation and ideology are closely linked together. For ideology is a highly problematic term, I drop both terms altogether and use the idea of discourse instead (see Appendix E.5). Another reason is that the idea of manipulation is too strong when we use it to talk about ritual. It does not fit well, because power runs in both way in ritual performance, from 1 van

Eemeren 2005, p. xi, emphasis in original xi 3 Rigotti 2005, p. 68 2 p.

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both traditions and practitioners. In other words, power operates in a more subtle way other than outright coercion. The idea of hegemony, “a ruling group secures the consent of the ruled”4 , introduced by Antonio Gramsci, a Marxist thinker, may have a better corresponding. But I do not want to go too political, so I do not use this idea either. Here is my treatment. If ritual discourse can inculcate certain knowledge, it is also capable to constitute a certain social practice. This practice is not just a corollary of constructed knowledge. It is the integration of the dichotomy of mind and body, thought and action, theory and practice, and so on. However, the body plays a more substantial role here, because it is the main site of ritual performance. The closest idea might be praxis. Praxis is another term that has several uses in different fields and has a distinct scent of Marxism. Christoph Wulf brings the term to ritual studies. What he means by praxis is more or less the same as Catherine Bell means by practice, “to mediate consciousness and social being, or structure and act.”5 However, the term does not so well to signify the integration or connection between the opposites, because at origin it is used to differentiate from theory.6 A more appropriate term turns to be simply practice used by Pierre Bourdieu whom Bell follows. There is a discordance between praxis and practice, for the former as seen by Bourdieu is somewhat paradoxical because it still sits in theoretical space. He puts it straightforwardly, but circularly: “I’ve always talked, quite simply, of practice.”7 Despite its downside in overusing and lacking of distinctiveness, practice is still the best choice to express the idea, particularly which we draw from Bourdieu and other culture theorists. That is the explanation how terminology goes in this section. Constitutive dimension implies that ritual establishes a kind of social practice in integration with knowledge constructed by discursive dimension. The central focus of this dimension is, of course, practice. The term will be specified in due course. Placing practice in physical plane is fittingly relevant. As noted 4 B.

S. Turner 2006, p. 268 2006, p. 395; Bell 1992, p. 77 6 Nayar 2008, p. 421 7 Bourdieu 1990a, p. 22 5 Wulf

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F. Constitutive dimension of ritual by Wulf, the body plays a dual role in ritual practice: the object that stores certain practical knowledge, and the subject that acts out that knowledge.8 When we talk about practical knowledge, it is worth mentioning Gilbert Ryle’s distinction between knowing-how and knowingthat. It is different by speaking “of learning how to play an instrument” and “of learning that something is the case.”9 The distinction is obvious. Knowing how to ride a bike and knowing that a bike generally has two wheels are different kind of knowing. This distinction can be seen roughly as William James distinguishes between knowledge of acquaintance and knowledgeabout.10 We can ride a bike by making acquaintance or contact with it in a proper way, without knowing about how it works. To Ryle, knowing-how is prior to knowing-that. His example is that a scientist is primarily a knower-how and secondarily a knowerthat, because “he couldn’t discover any particular truths unless he knew how to discover.”11 This means that knowing-that entails knowing-how, for the former subsumes the later. Generally speaking, we can see knowing-that as a possession of certain information, and knowing-how as a skill. And it is better to know that what Ryle calls knowing-how is equivalent to what Michael Polanyi calls tacit knowledge. In his classic, The Tacit Dimension (first published in 1966), Polanyi wrote “tacit knowing achieves comprehension by indwelling, and that all knowledge consists of or is rooted in such acts of comprehension.”12 By ‘indwelling’ my dictionary says: “To be located or implanted inside something.”13 This still sounds unclear because it can be a kind of innate cognitive structure (Kantian or scientific terms) or pre-structures of understanding or prejudices as Heidegger and Gadamer tell us. I think Polanyi and Ryle do not have this picture in mind, but the implication is strikingly close. As Frank Adloff, Katharina Gerund, and David Kaldewey put it, other than bodily skills that we need for certain performances, tacit knowledge “may also point to culture-specific intuitions and pre-reflexive assumptions that 8 Wulf

2006, p. 397 2009, p. 18 10 James 1890, p. 221 11 Ryle 1945, p. 16 12 Polanyi 2009, p. 55 13 https://www.ahdictionary.com/word/search.html?q=indwell 9 Ryle

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determine the way we interact with the world and with society.”14 Interestingly, Victor Turner sees metaphor as the form of tacit knowledge.15 This echoes Lakoff and Johnson’s claim that bodily metaphor is the basis of our conceptual thinking (see Appendix B). Seeing it as tacit knowledge is intelligible. The starting point of Polanyi is that “we can know more than we can tell.”16 To my terminology used, knowing here is what I call private understanding (not just seeing), and what can be told is explanation. There is a gap between the two. Some understanding cannot be articulated. Bifurcating understanding, in information and in skill, may get more sense accordingly. Information understanding can generate an explanation, because of its symbolic nature. But understanding in, or more appropriately, possessing of, skill cannot, because it is not only involved a cognitive capacity but also fluency and bodily mastery. We cannot simply convert knowing-how to knowing-that like “I know that the brake stops the car.” We can have a lot of this kind of information. But if we have never used the brake ourselves, we have not yet possessed the skill, the knowing-how or tacit knowledge. Does ritual have anything to do with this? We will find out in due course. Let us move to a sociological sense of the term, as Stephen Turner tells us, the tacit refers to “the taken-for-granted and the distinctive but unacknowledged habits of mind or meaningstructures that make something taken for granted.”17 This notion leads us to theory of practice. As Richard Biernacki notes that concepts of practice “highlight the influence of taken for granted, pre-theoretical assumptions on human conduct.”18 Practice is therefore, as George Ritzer puts it, “a routinized way of acting.”19 The taken-for-granted determines “how we manage our bodies, handle objects, treat subjects, describe things, and understand the world.”20 Andreas Reckwitz explains a number of core concepts in practice theory. First, the body is the central point of practice, for 14 Adloff,

Gerund, and Kaldewey 2015, p. 7 Turner 1974, p. 25 16 Polanyi 2009, p. 7 17 S. P. Turner 2014, p. 1 18 Biernacki 2007, p. 3607 19 Ritzer 2011, p. 662 20 p. 662 15 V.

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F. Constitutive dimension of ritual all practices are “routinized bodily activities”21 , including mental and emotional activities. Trained and skillful bodies produce a social practice. By this view, educational system has main work to establish this kind of potential bodies. In mental level, the mind is also routinized to have a certain way of understanding the world, as well as the way to desire and know how to do something.22 The third concept is things that is indispensable to the activities engaged by the body and mind. To play football, we must simply have a ball, so to speak. The next concept is knowledge, which is more or less the knowinghow or the tacit we have talked about, including ways of wanting and feeling. This knowledge is “largely implicit and largely historically-culturally specific.”23 The fifth concept is discourse/language, which is not confined only to sign-systems but all of meaning making elements. Practice theory stresses that “language exists only in its (routinized) use.”24 The next is structure/process that is found in routinized nature of practice, not in an organizational chart or in human brain. The last concept is the agent/individual, which is neither autonomous nor a judgmental dope, but rather those who “understand the world and themselves, and use know-how and motivational knowledge, according to the particular practice.”25 That is to say, the practice itself is more important than the agent who does it. Now we move specifically to Bourdieu’s theory of practice, which he has never made it clear what it is all about. We will never find what he exactly means by practice. This is his intention to stay away from theory as a ‘conceptual gobbledygook.’26 For him, theory is better seen as “a set of thinking tools visible through the results they yield.” So, it is “a temporary construct which takes shape for and by empirical work.”27 Our focus is neither on Bourdieu himself nor the whole range of his theory, because of its bewilderment for non-sociologists. Rather we will use some of his ideas that can facilitate our analysis. Here is an 21 Reckwitz

2002, p. 251 251 23 p. 253 24 p. 255 25 p. 256 26 L. J. D. Wacquant 1989, p. 50 27 p. 50, emphasis in original 22 p.

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explanation from Bourdieu: The theory of practice as practice insists, contrary to positivist materialism, that the objects of knowledge are constructed, not passively recorded, and, contrary to intellectualist idealism, that the principle of this construction is the system of structured, structuring dispositions, the habitus, which is constituted in practice and is always oriented towards practical functions.28 The key element of his theory is habitus, habits or dispositions, which is constructed by the social matrix, and in turn affects the system in practice. Practice therefore is “the product of a dialectical relationship between a situation and a habitus.”29 What Bourdieu means by habitus is “a system of lasting, transposable dispositions which, integrating past experiences, functions at every moment as a emphmatrix of perceptions, appreciations, and actions and makes possible the achievement of infinitely diversified tasks.”30 He also insists that disposition, the result of an organizing action, is well suited in covering the idea of habitus. Disposition also “designates a way of being, a habitual state (especially of the body) and, in particular, a predisposition, tendency, propensity, or inclination.”31 Moreover, habitus is “a spontaneity without consciousness or will,” and “embodied history, internalized as a second nature and so forgotten as history.”32 The notion of habitus here is much close to the tacit knowledge we discussed earlier. Catherine Bell puts it this way, “the habitus is the principle by which individual and collective practices are produced and the matrix in which objective structures are realized within the (subjective) dispositions that produce practices.”33 As we have seen, habitus straddles most of dichotomous situations. It is both social in the way that everyone is born into 28 Bourdieu

1990b, p. 52 Wacquant 2011, p. 318 30 Bourdieu 1977, pp. 82–3, emphasis in original 31 p. 214, emphasis in original 32 Bourdieu 1990b, p. 56 33 Bell 1992, p. 79 29 L.

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F. Constitutive dimension of ritual and shaped by it, and individual in the way that everyone has a unique trajectory and place in the world. It both constructs what we know as truth and being constructed by that truth in turn. It also sits between objectivism and subjectivism, realism and idealism, and so on. This makes the relation of habitus and power remarkably subtle. It can be regulated “without being in any way the product of obedience to rules” and can be “collectively orchestrated without being the product of the organizing action of a conductor.”34 The notion of hegemony is close here, but I will not link them together, because I think they are different and I do not want to involve that politics-laden idea. I think what is called complex system can explain this phenomenon scientifically, but as far as I know it is still far to have that scientific account in the social sciences. The most formal expression of the relationship between practice and habitus I have ever found is this formula expressed by Bourdieu as follows: [(habitus)(capital)] + field = practice35 Karl Maton explains the equation as “practice results from relations between one’s dispositions (habitus) and one’s position in a field (capital), within the current state of play of that social arena (field).”36 This leads us to Bourdieu’s another two related concepts: field and capital. Field is a social space “in which interactions, transactions and events occurred.”37 Bourdieu notes that the truth of an interaction, business for example, is not found in the interaction itself. It is not a two-way relation, but rather a three-way relation between “the two agents and the social space within which they are located.”38 Like a football field that marks the boundaries how far the players can go and the positions that they should occupy, including rules that govern the activities in this field, field as a social space sets limits and rules to the social agents who ‘play’ in the 34 Bourdieu

1990b, p. 53 1984, p. 101 36 Maton 2008, p. 51 37 Thomson 2008, p. 67 38 Bourdieu 2005, p. 148, emphasis added 35 Bourdieu

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field. Unlike a game, Bourdieu also remarks, that the players make their own decision to obey the rules, sometimes explicitly like the Olympic oath, in social fields “one does not embark on the game by a conscious act, one is born into the game, with the game.”39 The notion of field leads us to another concept that is important to our discussion—doxa, so it is worth quoting in full. Practical faith is the condition of entry that every field tacitly imposes, not only by sanctioning and debarring those who would destroy the game, but by so arranging things, in practice, that the operations of selecting and shaping new entrants (rites of passage, examinations, etc.) are such as to obtain from them that undisputed, pre-reflexive, naive, native compliance with the fundamental presuppositions of the field which is the very definition of doxa.40 We have a link to ritual here. What Bourdieu calls ‘practical faith’ is like an unquestionable acceptance of the rules imposed by the field. Ritual as a social field also has this kind of condition. As a ‘player’ or participant, we accept ritual undisputedly as natural even if all rules stipulated come arbitrarily. As Bourdieu puts it: “Every established order tends to produce … the naturalization of its own arbitrariness.”41 Doxa therefore means “a set of fundamental beliefs which does not even need to be asserted in the form of an explicit, selfconscious dogma.”42 We can see a parallel between doxa and discourse discussed in Appendix E. The relation to power can be seen as a point of difference. In discourse, like the colonial discourse, naturalness of truth is imposed directly from the power position. Whereas doxa has a more profound relation, because it sits outside the universe of discourse. Doxa is in the universe of the undiscussed or undisputed beyond orthodoxy and heterodoxy which can be argued as a discourse.43 Discourse used by Bourdieu is not exactly the same as used by Foucault and his followers, but there is an overlapping implication. 39 Bourdieu

1990b, p. 67 68 41 Bourdieu 1977, p. 164 42 Deer 2008, p. 120 43 See Bourdieu 1977, p. 164, 168 40 p.

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F. Constitutive dimension of ritual Interestingly, for Bourdieu, this practical belief is not a state of mind, but a state of body, because of its relation to habitus. As he puts it: “Doxa is the relationship of immediate adherence that is established in practice between a habitus and the field to which it is attuned, the pre-verbal taking-for-granted of the world that flows from practical sense.”44 Sometimes Bourdieu regards doxa as a misrecognition of “the world of tradition experienced as a ‘natural world’ and taken for granted.”45 In the equation of practice above, doxa is not a part of the equation because it is already embedded in the field. Bourdieu also talks about the two-way relationship between field and habitus in this way: On one side, it is a relation of conditioning: the field structures the habitus … On the other side, it is a relation of knowledge or cognitive construction. Habitus contributes to constituting the field as a meaningful world, a world endowed with sense and value, in which it is worth investing one’s energy.46 Now we move to the notion of capital. In a field or social space we have interactions, exchanges, and competitions with one another, and, simply put, a capital is a stake in the field we accumulate and invest, or “‘energy’ that drives the development of a field through time.”47 In The Forms of Capital, Bourdieu identifies three general forms of capitals: economic (e.g., money, land, livestock), cultural (e.g., knowledge, language, taste, preferences), social (e.g., affiliations, networks, family, religion).48 He also mentions symbolic capital (e.g., credentials which stand for other forms of capital) in lesser extent.49 Robert Moore (2008) notes that economic and symbolic capital are the two main types Bourdieu developed distinctively along with other sub-types such as cultural, linguistic, scientific, and literary capital.50 Elsewhere Bourdieu also talks about academic 44 Bourdieu

1990b, p. 68 1977, p. 164 46 Bourdieu and Wacquant 1992, p. 127, emphasis in original 47 Moore 2008, p. 105 48 Bourdieu 1986 49 Four forms of capital are enumerated in Thomson 2008, p. 69; also Bourdieu 1990b 50 Moore 2008, p. 103 45 Bourdieu

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and intellectual capital, military and juridical capital.51 Forms of capital therefore can be numerous or endless. The different forms of capital correspond to their mode of circulation.52 Whether economic capital is the most fundamental form of all other capitals, since other capitals can be reduced to economic capital—the view called economism, is disputable. Because there is another plausible view called semiologism which reduces social exchanges to phenomena of communication.53 However, different types of capital can be converted to each other in different degree of liquidity and convertibility. Economic capital is the most liquid, easily transforms into cultural and social capital. But converting social capital, less liquid and subject to attrition, into economic one is more costly and contingent. Converting social capital into cultural one is also difficult than the vice versa.54 To illustrate the point, if I have money (economic capital), I can earn my educational degree (cultural capital) and get many friends (social capital). On the other hand, if I have many friends or belong to a certain affiliation, this can help me to get more money but not easily and the outcome is uncertain. If I am a celebrity (high cultural capital), I can have friends easily. On the other side, If I have many friends, it is harder to make me famous. The amount of capital can affect convertibility. For example, if I have a high degree of education or a certain sophisticated skill, I can earn money easier than those who have a lesser education or skill. The equation of practice mentioned above depicts that practice results from relations between one’s habitus and one’s position in a field (capital). Here, capital is seen as where we stand in the field. It is not just a location in space. It is what we have which identifies ourselves in social hierarchy. Volumes of capital can identify the position of the possessor in a variety of combinations. Those who have high volumes of economic capital have a high rank in economic terms, often with cultural terms as a celebrity, but sometimes not (think a mafia member). Typically, intellectuals accumulate more cultural and symbolic 51 Bourdieu

and Wacquant 1992, p. 76, 114 1977, p. 183 53 Bourdieu 1986 54 Anheier, Gerhards, and Romo 1995, p. 862 52 Bourdieu

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F. Constitutive dimension of ritual capital than economic and social one. Avant-garde artists may have little economic capital but high cultural and symbolic values. A romance writer can gain high economic capital but low in social and cultural dimension. How can all these ideas be used to understand ritual? To the notion of discourse discussed previously, this set of ideas look different in a more sophisticated way, but they have something in common. That is the theme of our thesis—the reality maker. However, Bourdieu seems to prefer naturalized belief or the takenfor-granted (i.e., doxa) and dispositions (habitus) over reality. He also notes that the naturalizing process is “culturally constituted in and through ritual practice.”55 Now I try to map ritual into Bourdieu’s terminology. Ritual can be seen as a social space where a certain activity occurs (field). In this ritual field, there are a number of beliefs which participants have to take for granted (doxa). The ritual field ingrained with the doxa conditions participants to have certain dispositions (habitus). In turn, these dispositions give meaning to the ritual itself by the way of practice. And all of these are mobilized by valued tokens (capitals). Practice therefore is the overall process. By this account, as Richard Biernacki puts it, “Practices define ‘truth’.”56 Now we come to our practical question: “How do we use these idea to analyze a ritual?” I choose only two concepts to be investigated here: habitus and capitals. In the previous dimension we analyzed discourse that by and large covers the notion of doxa, so it will be redundant if we find the taken-for-granted in terms of knowledge or beliefs here. It will be insightful to look into the bodily part of the taken-for-granted, i.e., dispositions including attitudes. That is habitus brought into play, but I avoid using the term to make a distant from Bourdieu’s theory. Capital analysis can also give us an insight to how the process moves. The main questions for constitutive dimension What are dispositions of participants inculcated by the ritual? What are capitals driving the ritual?

55 Bourdieu

56 Biernacki

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About the author J. R. Bhaddacak holds a PhD in Religious Studies and has professional background of computer science and engineering. Nowadays he is an independent researcher/writer/programmer, working alone outside any academic and business milieu. His main field of study is on religion, particularly Theravāda Buddhism as a cultural product. He is the author of the two volumes of Pāli for New Learners and the maker of Pāli Platform, a comprehensive program for Pāli learning and research. By the days of writing this book, he lives as a mendicant somewhere in a rural area of Thailand.

About the pseudonym J. R. is the initials of the author’s real name. His monastic name is Bhaddācāro (bhadda + ācāra) meaning “one having good conduct.” To get rid of diacritical marks, to make it easier to write, cakka (wheel) is used instead, hence bhaddacakka meaning “good wheel.” The last syllable is dropped to make the name shorter, then comes Bhaddacak. To reduce the halo effect, the author avoids using a direct title that signifies monastic status. So, the reader can judge the book from its content, not from status of the writer. Misled first impression like “It must be a preaching book or evangelistic sort of thing” will be less likely to occur.

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Colophon This document is produced by LATEX typesetting system using TEX Live 2022/Debian on GNU/Linux system. Devuan Daedalus/ Ceres (testing branch) is used to date. Main fonts used are in the Latin Modern family, with additional Thai Garuda font. Citations are facilitated by the biblatex-chicago package. To make the final PDF unicode-searchable, LuaLATEX is used as the engine. Neovim is the main editor. The working machine is 32-bit Dell Inspiron N4030 (2011).

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