Authors: Ulf Wolf
Tags: #enlightenment, #spiritual awakening, #the buddha, #spiritual enlightenment, #waking up, #gotama buddha, #the buddhas return
Clare took another look at her notes to make
sure that she had covered all that she had intended. She had. So
she looked up at Ruth, “I think that just about does it. Enough
meat, I’d say, for a pretty good report.”
Ruth smiled, and so did Lars.
“Remember, I’d like to see the final cut,”
said Ruth.
“Yes, absolutely,” agreed Clare.
:
The following afternoon, Melissa and Ruth
were ushered into the KCRI editing room where they were greeted by
Clare and Lars (who was also an accomplished editor, and had
volunteered to work on this project with Clare).
Tea was served and the final cut of the
program run through the monitor. Twenty minutes later, as the
screen went blank, Ruth said, “Fine.”
“I’d say,” said Melissa.
::
97 :: (Pasadena)
The Clare Downes interview with Ruth Marten
aired on the evening of Tuesday, May 12.
In a not particularly
opaque swipe at KCAA and Federico Alvarez, KCRI billed this as
a
serious
prime
time interview—to be followed by a live post-interview expert
commentary (the one thing Clare’s producer had insisted on, and
which Ruth, after some reflection, reluctantly had agreed to), and
was not to be confused with a spectacle or a side-show.
They had all gathered at Melissa’s to watch
the show. Clare (sans Lars, who, having edited it, said he had seen
it enough times by now, and wanted the evening off), Julian Lawson,
Ruth, Melissa, and that fellow Ananda, whom Clare still could not
quite fit into the picture, and was too polite to outright inquire
about. He seemed a closer friend to Ruth than to Melisa, and he
apparently lived there.
Julian Lawson was his own oddity. Very
focused on the task at hand, very dedicated to Ruth, and very
non-attentive to Clare’s looks. In fact, Julian was probably the
first male in, well, she could not remember how long, who didn’t
eye her on the sly (or overtly, for that matter). Not interested at
all, as if she were not even there. Well, as if the good-looks part
of her were not even there. Not that she felt like complaining; in
fact, it was refreshing. But it took some getting used to and it
was hard to let down your guard when no longer needed needed.
Melissa had cooked a wonderful curry—all
vegan, she proclaimed, I hope nobody minds. Which nobody did, Clare
included.
The meal was winding down when the interview
came on. Of course, they all knew what to expect from the interview
itself, it was the expert commentary to follow that concerned them.
How would they receive the interview? Would Ruth be ridiculed?
Would she be taken seriously? These were the questions foremost on
Ruth’s mind, as well as on hers.
The final edit, including commercials (which
were charged at prime rate plus) ran a full thirty minutes. Another
thirty minutes had been set aside by the producer for the live
post-interview commentary.
A panel billed as three experts watched the
interview at KCRI’s studios, and would open the commentary
immediately following the conclusion of the interview.
This panel consisted of Cindy Gilchrist,
professor of Ontology at USC, Carl Brecht, professor of Oriental
Studies at UCLA, and Abbot Timothy White, abbot at the Los Angeles
Franciscan mission.
As the interview was winding down, and the
announcer exhorted all viewers to stay tuned for the panel
discussion, Ananda asked:
“Who picked the panel?”
“They were all selected and invited by my
producer,” she answered.
“Are we going to get a fair hearing from
them?” Ananda again.
“From Cindy Gilchrist, I’m pretty sure. I’ve
met her a couple of times, and she seems a sweetheart. And most
likely from Abbot White as well. He is an old, well-established,
and well-respected religious figure in Los Angeles. He’s known to
be very levelheaded, and fair. And he’s a good listener, is how my
producer characterized him.
“Carl Brecht, on the other hand, although he
is a professor of Oriental Studies, usually takes a dim view of
what he finds in these studies. He is a Sanskrit scholar and has
read much of the Vedas and Upanishads in the original language and
has been known to call them fairy tales.”
“Does he know Pali?” asked Ruth.
“I don’t know,” said Clare.
“Does he regard the Pali Canon as fairy
tales as well?” Ananda’s question.
“I don’t know how familiar he is with the
Pali Canon. I couldn’t say.”
“How old are they?” asked Melissa.
“Cindy Gilchrist is about your age, I’d
guess. Carl Brecht is in his early sixties, again my guess. And
Abbot White is ancient. He has to be eighty if he’s a day.”
“Interesting,” said
Ananda—who of course was at least eighty himself if
he
was a day.
“Okay,” said Ruth, turning to the screen.
“Here we go.”
The moderator turned out to be Clare’s
producer, Vivian Taft. This came as a surprise to Clare. “I wonder
who’s producing this segment then,” she said. Nobody answered,
though.
Vivian Taft put the first question to Cindy
Gilchrist, not beating about any bushes, “Is it possible, do you
think, that this young, attractive, prodigy of a girl, can be—as
her paper implies—the Buddha reincarnated?”
“Possible?” said Gilchrist.
“That’s a very generous term. Really, anything is
possible
. I am not sure
how likely it is, though.”
“
You don’t think it’s
likely?” In that confirming tone of voice that moderators seem to
like.
“No, not really. The remarkable experiment
notwithstanding, it just seems too far-fetched. And in some ways
too pat.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it would fit too well. Sort of
unbelievably well. Hard to accept.”
“So what do you think she means; I am
awake?”
Before she could answer, Carl Brecht leaned
into his microphone and suggested, “Perhaps to spice up a boring
paper.”
“Do you mean her account of the EPROM
experiment?”
“Yes.”
“So, I take it you don’t find it
fascinating.”
“Not particularly, no.”
“Why do you say that? It strikes me as quite
a breakthrough in the field of quantum mechanics.”
“Well,” said Brecht. “That’s where it
belongs. Precisely where you just put it: in quantum mechanics. The
world has done well over the last many millennia without the
questionable details of particle physics, and will go on doing well
for the next many.”
“I don’t agree with that,” said Gilchrist.
“I found the findings of the EPROM experiment absolutely
fascinating. And the fact that the experiment has been replicated
successfully speaks volumes, I think. But,” she added, “that does
not make the young girl at the center of all this a Buddha. It
makes her a prodigy and a brilliant researcher, but not a
Buddha.”
“How about you Abbot White,” said Taft.
“Where do you come down on this?”
Timothy White looked every one of his
eight-four years as he leaned slightly in the direction of his
microphone. “I think,” he said with a soft but still vibrant voice,
“that this young woman is a remarkable person. Absolutely
remarkable.” Then added, “I wouldn’t rule anything out.”
“Are you saying,” said Taft, “that you would
allow that she might be the Buddha returned?”
“I had no idea that the Roman Catholic
Church endorsed reincarnation,” interjected Brecht, apparently not
quite on board with the protocol of the situation.
“As I said,” said the Abbot calmly in his
almost velvety voice, ignoring Brecht’s rudeness, “I would not rule
anything out. A year ago I would not have believed it even remotely
possible that life, at its core, expects or measures particles into
being. But, evidently it does. And there is not a very large leap
from there to Miss Marten being who she says she is. Which, by the
way, is that she’s awakened. She does not say that she is the
Buddha.”
“Oh, I think you’re splitting hairs here. I
think the paper is quite clear on that,” offered Gilchrist. “What
else can she mean? First she says that those who have woken up to
the fact that there is nothing but life are called Buddhas. Then
she goes on to say that she is awake. Those are the last three
words of the paper. I don’t think there is any equivocation here,
do you?”
“There is no arguing about that,” said the
Abbot. Again as calmly. “She does say what she says.”
“Now,” said Taft, looking directly at
Brecht. “If we were to assume for a minute that Ruth Marten is in
fact the Buddha. What impact do you think this could have on the
religious landscape here in the United States? Well, in the world,
for that matter?”
Brecht shifted importantly in his chair
before answering. Then he said, “If she were the Christ returned,
and so proven,” at which he looked around at his colleagues,
particularly at Abbot White, who was studying his hands. “If she
were Jesus Christ, now, that would be an impact. As for the Buddha,
the western world doesn’t care much about Buddhism and would
probably care even less whether she was the Buddha or not.”
“I disagree,” said Gilchrist again, not
seeming particularly to care for Brecht. “Statistically, Buddhism
is the fastest growing religion in our country. People, according
to recent surveys, turn to Buddhism because it is not faith-based.
Because it offers, or at least seems to offer, an actual path of
enlightenment, a way that can be traveled by the individual. People
today find that appealing. So I believe that if she were the
Buddha, if that was established fact—and I have no idea how you
would objectively establish that—”
“By appearing to raise someone’s chair?”
suggested Brecht, which earned him two quick glances from his panel
co-members.
“If that were established fact,” repeated
Gilchrist pointedly, “I think it would have an effect indeed, both
here and abroad.”
“Right,” said Taft. “Now, speaking of
chairs, what is your take on that?”
“Staged, surely,” said Gilchrist. “Miss
Marten has already confirmed that.”
“Agreed,” said Brecht. “I’m not sure how
they did it, but I’m positive that it was staged. I wouldn’t put it
past Alvarez.”
“I would not rule anything out,” said the
Abbot again.
“You would not?” said Taft, apparently not a
little surprised at the Abbot’s leanings.
“Miracles do occur,” he said. “History is
replete with them.
“Yes, but not on television,” said
Brecht.
“And she did state that it was a hoax,” said
Taft.
“I know what she said,”
said the Abbot. And then, with a little more weight to his voice,
the Abbot said, “Miracles
do
happen. Miracles have always happened. But today
we seem only to give credence to those that occurred in the distant
past. We have ruled them out as present-day
possibilities.
“In fact,” he added, before Brecht could
voice what he had drawn a deep and obvious breath to offer. “I
consider the outcome of the EPROM experiment a miracle. And in the
final analysis, are not miracles just natural phenomena that we do
not quite understand yet?”
“Good point,” said Taft. Then, “Let’s take a
quick break. We’ll be right back.”
On to commercial.
“I
like
the Abbot,” said
Ruth.
“I like him, too,” said Ananda. “He’s a
smart man.”
“You did a really great job, Clare,” said
Melissa, referring to the interview. “A good focus on the right
things, and so clearly presented. And,” she turned to Ruth, “you,
too, of course.”
Ruth smiled at her mom, but said, “Brecht is
a funny one. Oriental Studies, is that what you said, Clare?”
“Yes, apparently.”
“There is very little that’s Oriental about
him.”
“I agree,” said Clare. “He’s an odd
one.”
“Can I ask you something,” said Clare to the
three of them.
“Sure,” said Melissa, but before Clare could
voice her question the expert panel discussion returned from
commercial.
“Miss Marten, in her paper, makes the point
that the world doesn’t really care about the eighty-five or so
percent of reality that’s below water, as she puts it. Why do you
think this is, Abbot White?”
“In my experience, people are not afraid of
what they can see, no matter how frightening, they are afraid of
what they cannot see. And they can only see, as this young girl put
it, the tip of the iceberg. What’s beneath the surface may be as
benign as anything, but unseen it is still a threat and is best
ignored.”
“I agree with that assessment,” said
Gilchrist.
“I don’t know if fear is the right word,”
offered Brecht.
“What is the right word, then?” asked
Taft.
“Irrelevance,” he said.
“What do you mean?” said Taft.
“As I said earlier, whether or not elemental
particles split and then co-know instantly across inconceivable
distance has no bearing on your paycheck. Has no bearing on your
happiness here and now. That data is irrelevant.”
“I see,” said Taft.
“I think what the girl is alerting us to,”
said the Abbot, “is that life as lived today is very stressful, and
as Thoreau said, lived in quiet desperation. And life will continue
to be stressful and quietly desperate until, or unless, we look at
all of life, at all levels. I think she is right. So I think it is
relevant.”
“You sound less like a Catholic than a
Buddhist,” said Brecht.
“Perhaps I should take that as a
compliment,” said the Abbot.
“Cindy,” said Taft. “What if the rising
chair was not a hoax?”
“But it
was
a hoax,” said Gilchrist. “She
categorically stated that on camera the following day. Staged by
Federico Alvarez.”