Sex Rites of the Christian Missionaries

Count von Zinzendorf receiving light rays from the side wound,
oil painting by Johann V. Haidt (1700-1780) dated 1747

I suppose I first sensed something odd was going on years ago. I was testing the limits of my German comprehension, reading one of the oldest essays ever written by a non-Tibetan about the Tibetan Bon religion. August Hermann Francke (1870-1930), published several pieces on that subject during the last three decades of his life. Most famously he started translating the Gzer-myig, the medium-sized biography of Bon’s founder, Lord Shenrab.

In his 1927 essay entitled “Die Zufluchtsformel der Bon-Religion der Tibeter” [‘The Refuge Formula of the Tibetan Bon Religion’], Francke, a Moravian missionary in Lahul, takes the Bon Refuge formula, as found in the Gzer-myig scripture, and compares it with the Christian doctrine of the Trinity. He pays particular attention to the Bon goddess Sa-trig-er-sang, as adding a female aspect to divinity. This emphasis on female or feminized aspects of the godhead begins to make more sense the more you learn about the Moravians.

The goddess Sa-trig-er-sang bears a Zhang-zhung language name that may be Tibetanized as Shes-rab-byams-ma. This may then be Anglicized as “Insight (or Wisdom as many prefer) Loving Mother.” No doubt, if viewed from outside by a Christian missionary, it might be expectable to see something of Sophia (Wisdom) and Mary the Mother of God (the Theotokos) in that Bon goddess’s name. Both Sophia and Theotokos are icons for veneration in eastern Christianities for whom Holy Wisdom with her female appearance is none other than Jesus. I believe this is at least in general outline the kind of connection Francke meant to draw. Still more germane to our story, Sophia, as the feminine aspect of godhead, has special meanings in the theology of the Moravians, although their tendency is to identify her with the Holy Spirit, unlike the Greek Orthodox, who identify her with Jesus...*

(*See Fogelman’s book, chapter 3: ‘The Challenge to Gender Order.’ Moravians also tended to feminize Jesus; see Rimius.)

I once took a university course about communalistic religious movements in early New England,* but after a few decades my knowledge has worn thin as fine muslin, and what I think I know about Moravian history in Europe and North America comes from recent readings of books and essays of the kind you see listed below. I will try not to torture you with my own ideas too much. You will do so much better if I send you to hear from real experts in the field.

(*I just searched online for the teacher of that class and found that he died earlier this year, age 81. His name is Stephen Stein.)

If you don’t have much time, go directly to the video linked just below with a lecture by Paul Peucker entitled “Opening the Blue Cabinet,” or read his 2011 article if you prefer. If your spirits guide you, go read some of the other items. If you want a well-balanced discussion of historical influences and contexts, definitely read Atwood’s 2004 book. He foregrounds Moravian pietism as a product of its times, with considerable background information, before going on to speak of their unusual marital practices and views on gender, which is as it should be. Contrast Fogleman’s 2007 book, recommended if you have less (yet some) patience for historical detail and theology and would prefer the sexy bits more up front and center.

One thing to bear in mind, the time of Count Nicolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf (1700-1760) and the so-called “Sifting Time,” when the most remarkable ritualized sex observances and theological enthusiasms took place, were by most accounts not only long over but gone by the time the Herrnhut Brethren entered Tibetan cultural realms of northern India in the 1850’s. There had even been an attempt to scrub the archives clean (Peucker 2012). Yet some of the early ideas had carrying power. If the missionaries in Lahul were not making use of The Blue Cabinet, and I do not believe they were, still their marriages were arranged for them (often planned out in detail) by the church. Earlier Moravians regarded the marriage bed as a religious sacrament (which is not the same as Catholics who regard the institution of marriage, the rite itself, as a sacrament). Moravians had to submit to the church in general, and accepting the church’s choice of spouse was just another instance of submission. 

And in those earlier days the church was very closely and intimately involved in their followers’ marital lives. In truth the physical union was then treated as a religious ritual with promise of spiritual benefits, done in combination with prayers. That means not only prayers and hymns done by themselves, but also by the church elders sitting just outside the door absorbed in hymn singing and fervid praying. But don’t take my word for it.

I wouldn’t want to leave anyone with the impression that the Moravian Brethren were just a pack of randy rascals. I don’t have time or inclination to grant them complete justice, what anthropologists call adequate representation, here in this place. I’ll only say it again, read Atwood’s book. Still, let me say a thing or two to close with. 

The Moravians were quite influential, and not only controversial, particularly in the early times. We should review some of their accomplishments briefly:

They didn’t make the first hymnals, but they did make the first hymnals intended for congregational singing, like those you find today in every Protestant church. 

They published the first Bible in Czech language. 

They were the original “world missionaries” even if this isn’t often recognized. (For an exception, see Ward’s book.) Zinzendorf himself visited the New World to do missionary work. In North America they proselytized and invited to worship with them both native-born populations and slaves, disregarding race, accepting everyone. They converted those who were willing, without pressuring them to renounce their cultures. 

They not only recognized a female aspect in the godhead in their theology, in practice they gave a much greater role to women than was common in other churches — a feminist impulse was in evidence. 

There was also what we may see as an ecumenical impulse, even if it was largely about how intense devotion and piety could overcome the credal boundaries drawn by contending theological convictions.

 

But when we limit ourselves to our Tibeto-centric perspective their biggest contributions were in the works of Francke, Jäschke and others who were doing more for the field of Tibetan studies than anyone else in their day. They may have had missionary interests, but at least they had the good sense to take an interest.

The Moravian Mission in Keylong, from Missions Archive

§  §  §

The Video

• Paul Peucker, Opening the Blue Cabinet 

from Moravian Seminary on Vimeo 

(https://vimeo.com/31960203)

Relevant literature 

(Items I most recommend are marked by a red bullet: • )

• Craig D. Atwood, “Adoring the Wounded Savior.” Go to this webpage (and don’t neglect to download the Powerpoint that goes with it; it ought to appear if you just tap on the words “Adoring the Wounded Savior Slideshow” at the very top of the essay).

• Craig D. Atwood, Community of the Cross: Moravian Piety in Colonial Bethlehem, Pennsylvania State University Press (University Park 2004). Try here. 

Craig D. Atwood, “Little Side Holes: Devotional Cards of the Mid-Eighteenth Century,” Journal of Moravian History, no. 6 (Spring 2009), pp. 61-75. He argues against Fogleman’s tendency to view all the devotional wound imagery as necessarily erotic. All the same he accepts that it is heavily laden with womb symbolism.

Craig D. Atwood, “Mother of God’s People: The Adoration of the Holy Spirit in the Eighteenth-Century Brüdergemeine,” Church History, vol. 68, no. 4 (December 1999), pp. 886-909.

Craig D. Atwood, “Sleeping in the Arms of Christ: Sanctifying Sexuality in the Eighteenth-Century Moravian Church,” Journal of the History of Sexuality, vol. 8, no. 1 (July 1997), pp. 25-51.

Craig D. Atwood, “The Union of Masculine and Feminine in Zinzendorfian Piety,” contained in: Katherine M. Faull, ed., Masculinity, Sense, Spirit, Bucknell University Press (Lewisburg 2011), pp. 11-37

Craig D. Atwood, “Understanding Zinzendorf’s Blood and Wounds Theology,” Journal of Moravian History, no. 1 (2006) pp. 31-46.

Rafal Beszterda, The Moravian Brethren and Himalayan Cultures: Evangelisation, Society, Industry, Munshiram Manoharlal (New Delhi 2014).  PDF.

John Bray, “A.H. Francke’s Last Visit to Ladakh: History, Archaeology and the First World War,” Zentralasiatische Studien, vol. 44 (2015), pp. 147-178. The author has a very extensive body of writings on the Moravian missionaries in the Himalayas, and only a few of these will be listed here.

John Bray, “Heinrich August Jaeschke: Pioneer Tibetan Scholar,” The Tibet Journal, vol. 8, no. 1 (Spring 1983), pp. 50-55. Interesting information about Jaeschke’s ancestor being one of the founding members of Herrnhut.

• John Bray, “Ladakhi Knowledge and Western Learning: A.H. Francke’s Teachers, Guides and Friends in the Western Himalaya,” Revue d'Etudes Tibetaines, vol. 51 (2019), pp. 39-70. With interesting photographs.

John Bray, “Recalling the Life of Ladakh Scholar A.H. Francke on His 150th Birthday Anniversary,” a blog posted at Ladakhstudies.org on November 4, 2020.

R.K.C., A Strategy for Bringing Contextualized Gospel into the Tibetan Buddhist World, master’s thesis, School of Divinity, Regent University (Virginia Beach 2020). 

A work of practical mission-ology. I checked and found that this Regent University is nondenominational Christian — yet obviously evangelical, believing in the global missionary imperative, scriptural inerrancy, literal interpretation etc.* — with half their students not residing in Virginia Beach (yes, Bible-believing Boomers can be Zoomers). I have to say I’m not impressed at the depth of insight this thesis demonstrates, and think I could have made a lot better suggestions, for example, how to appropriate tulku ideas by integrating them into Christian incarnation theology. The faculty advisers sign their names, but the student fears to do so for reasons we can only imagine to our horror.

(*In case you wonder, yes, these would be some of the very people who voted for Donald Trump. See this story about one of his rallies held there on campus in 2016, addressed by Pat Robertson, naturally, since he’s its founder, chancellor and CEO. God told him Trump would win that latest presidential election, and no, he didn’t. The evangelicals knew for certain that Trump was not a good person, but nevertheless chose to see him as an instrument of divine will (as his Vice President, Pence spoke in just those terms when addressing evangelical audiences). Serving as an instrument in this case could very well mean hastening the end of the world, something they greatly anticipate, at times displaying an eagerness that can only be described as perverse. If you haven’t heard about their Cyrus arguments, about the usefulness of flawed vessels, you really ought to look into it. Well, if everybody is imperfect, then everyone should get to be head of state, if you will allow me to give a little push to their tortured logic. Trump was always forced to respect them, given their voting power, even when he would mock them as losers and demonstrate his disbelief beyond all possibility of doubt. Remember that photo op of him holding up a Bible in front of a church? Remember how much trouble was taken to put on this display? A calculated ploy to boost his falling approval ratings... To quote The Who, We won’t be fooled again... 

H.M. Cushman, “Handling Knowledge: Holy Bodies in the Middle English Mystery Plays,” Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies, vol. 47, no. 2 (2017), pp. 279-304, at p. 279:

“In the climax of the N-Town and Chester Nativity plays, the midwife Salome puts her hand inside the Virgin Mary...  In the plays featuring Thomas the Apostle, Thomas’s fingers penetrate the resurrected Jesus’s wounded side and hands. Both the midwife and the apostle are searching for something. Salome is seeking evidence that supports or disproves the Virgin Mary’s claim that, although she has just given birth, she retains the anatomical features of a ‘clene mayde and pure virgyn.’...

“...  They conduct manual experiments, or what the plays sometimes call ‘assayes,’ in order to acquire new knowledge to which these bodies bear witness.”

Keri Davies, “Bridal Mysticism and ‘Sifting Time’: The Lost Moravian History of William Blake’s Family.”  Digital document from internet.  

• Katherine Faull and Jeannette Norfleet, “The Married Choir Instructions (1785),” Journal of Moravian History, no. 10 (2011), pp. 69-110.

J. Kestell Floyer, “The Emblem of the Five Wounds of Christ,” Theology, vol. 4, no. 22 (1922), pp. 194-200.

• Aaron Spencer Fogleman, Jesus is Female: Moravians and the Challenge of Radical Religion in Early America, University of Pennsylvania Press (Philadelphia 2007).

Aaron Spencer Fogleman, “Jesus is Female: The Moravian Challenge in the German Communities of British North America,” William and Mary Quarterly, vol. 60, no. 2 (April 2003), pp. 295-332.

• August Hermann Francke, “Die Zufluchtsformel der Bon-Religion der Tibeter,” Neue Allgemeine Missionszeitschrift, vol. 4 (1927), pp. 150-158.  

You will have to go to the link to locate this one. Most printed copies of the journal will have crumbled to dust by now. And the online catalog of the Library of Congress doesn’t record its existence anywhere. For a more detailed summary, see D. Martin, Unearthing Bon Treasures, Brill (Leiden 2001), pp. 333-334.

August Hermann Francke, “gZer-myig, A Book of the Tibetan Bon-pos,” Asia Major, vol. 1 (1924), pp. 243-346; vol. 3 (1926), pp. 321-339; vol. 4 (1927), pp. 161-239, 481-540; vol. 5 (1928), pp. 7-40; vol. 6 (1930), pp. 299-314; new series vol. 7 (1949), pp. 163-188.

John Gill, The Banished Count: The Life of Nicholas Louis Zinzendorf, “from the French of M. Felix Bovet,” James Nisbet (London 1865).  PDF.

H[einrich] A[ugust] Jäschke, A Tibetan-English Dictionary with Special Reference to the Prevailing Dialects, Routledge & Kegan Paul (London 1972), first English edition was dated 1881, while the original German edition appeared in lithographic form, almost entirely in handwriting, between the years 1871 and 1876.

George Fenwick Jones, “Count von Zinzendorf’s Letter to King Tomochichi,” Georgia Historical Quarterly, vol. 86, no. 4 (Winter 2002), pp. 617-619. About a failed effort to colonize Georgia (the Georgia the New World, not the Old) with Moravians and convert the local populations.

Dan Martin, Bon Bibliography,  posted for free download in 2020.

Rich Miller, “Zinzendorf and the Unitas Fratrum: Mutual Edification, Powerful Strategies,” a course paper for the Regent School of Divinity (Virginia Beach 2010).  Document from internet. For more on Regent University, look above under “R.K.C.”

Seth Moglen, “Excess and Utopia: Meditations on Moravian Bethlehem,” History of the Present, vol. 2, no. 2 (Fall 2012), pp. 122-147. The same author has written a book I haven’t seen, Bethlehem: American Utopia, American Tragedy.

Cameron Partridge, “Side Wound, Virgin Birth, Transfiguration,” Theology & Sexuality, vol. 18, no. 2 (2012), pp. 127-132.

Paul Peucker, A Time of Sifting: Mystical Marriage and the Crisis of Moravian Piety in the Eighteenth Century, Pennsylvania State University Press, (University Park 2015).  Reviewed by Tom Schwanda in Spiritus, vol. 16 (Spring 2016), pp. 123-125. At this point I’ve read the review, but not the book.

• Paul Peucker, “In the Blue Cabinet: Moravians, Marriage & Sex,” Journal of Moravian History, vol 12 (2011), pp. 7-37. Particularly recommended.

Paul Peucker, “Inspired by Flames of Love: Homosexuality, Mysticism and Moravian Brothers around 1750,” Journal of the History of Sexuality, vol. 15, no. 1 (2006).  PDF (by subscription only).

Paul Peucker, “Selection and Destruction in Moravian Archives Between 1760 and 1810,” Journal of Moravian History, vol. 12, no. 2 (2012) pp. 170-215. On attempts to purge the  church archives of historical records pertaining to the so-called Sifting Time.

Paul Peucker, “The Songs of the Sifting: Understanding the Role of Bridal Mysticism in Moravian Piety during the Late 1740’s,” Journal of Moravian History, vol. 3 (2007), pp. 51-87.

Paul Peucker, “Wives of the Lamb: Moravian Brothers and Gender around 1750,” contained in: Katherine M. Faull, ed., Masculinity, Sense, Spirit, Bucknell University Press (Lewisburg 2011), pp. 39-54.

Oskar Pfister, Die Frommigkeit des Grafen Ludwig von Zinzendorf [‘The Piety of Count Ludwig von Zinzendorf’], Schriften zur angewandten Seelenkunde, no. 8  (Leipzig and Vienna 1910). 

I don’t pretend to have read it, it’s just interesting to know that this was the book that brought Count Zinzendorf to the attention of the Viennese psychoanalytical circle with their evolving ideas about sexual repression (see Silberer’s book listed just below). Actually, Pfister although a Lutheran minister in Switzerland, was enthusiastically involved in the Viennese circle, exchanging letters with Freud and so on. To quote a line from Freud’s 1914 essay, ‘History of the Psycho-Analytic Movement’:

“Dr. Pfister, a pastor in Zurich, has traced back the origin of religious fanaticism to perverse eroticism in his book on the piety of Count von Zinzendorf, as well as in other contributions. In the latest works of the Zurich school, however, we find analysis permeated with religious ideas rather than the opposite outcome that had been in view.”

My note: By Zurich school, he means Pfister’s own circle of followers. Freud could never express his appreciation for another member of his circle without also chiding them for something or another. He does a similar thing every time he mentions Silberer’s dream theories. Perhaps compensating for un-admitted inadequacies, he always made himself look a little better than the rest, more knowledgable, more analytical, more scientific, even. Maybe that’s why he came out at the head of the pack?

Henry Rimius,  A Candid Narrative of the Rise and Progress of the Herrnhuters, Commonly Call'd Moravians, or, Unitas Fratrum; with a Short Account of Their Doctrines Drawn from Their Own Writings, 2nd ed., A. Linde (London 1753), pp. 40-41:

“The Holy Ghost is called by the Herrnhuters, the eternal Wife of  God, the Mother of Christ, the Mother of the Faithful, the Mother of the Church...”

[Jesus] “is called the Lamb, their little Lamb, their little Jesus. They make his Name of the feminine gender, calling him their Mother, their Mama Jesua.” 

Herbert Silberer (1882-1923), Hidden Symbolism of Alchemy and the Occult Arts, Dover Publications (New York 1971). This English translation was first published under the [better] title Problems of Mysticism and its Symbolism in 1917 (Probleme der Mystik und ihrer Symbolik, in 1914). At pp. 264-266, his discussion on Count Zinzendorf includes these words: 

“Thus the pious man indulges his phantasy with a marked predilection for voluptuousness in the ‘Seitenhölchen’ (Wound in the Side) in Jesus’ body and with an unmistakable identification of this ‘cleft’ with the vulva.”

Kristof Smeyers, “Making Sense of Stigmata: How Victorians Explained the Wounds of Christ,” Journal of Victorian Culture, vol. 24, no. 2 (2019), pp. 227-240.

August Gottlieb Spangenberg (1704-1792), The Life of Nicholas Lewis Count Zinzendorf: Bishop and Ordinary of the Church of the United (or Moravian) Brethren, Samuel Holdsworth (Ann Arbor 1838). Try archive.org/.

Peter Vogt, “Honor to the Side: The Adoration of the Side Wound of Jesus in Eighteenth-Century Moravian Piety,” Journal of Moravian History, vol. 7 (Autumn 2009), pp. 83-106.

Peter Vogt, “Zinzendorf’s ‘Seventeen Points of Matrimony’: A Fundamental Document on the Moravian Understanding of Marriage and Sexuality,” Journal of Moravian History, vol. 10 (2011), pp. 39-67.

W.R. Ward, Early Evangelicalism: A Global Intellectual History, 1670-1789, Cambridge University Press (Cambridge 2006).

John R. Weinlick, Count Zinzendorf, Abingdon Press (New York 1956).

Karl Wilhelm Westmeier, “Zinzendorf at Esopus: The Apocalyptical Missiology of Count Nicolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf — A Debut to America.” Missiology, vol. 22, no. 4 (October 1994), pp.  419-436.  I haven’t seen this yet (because of the pay wall).

Yashoda, “50 Stars of Christmas:  Moravian Church, Leh, Highest Church in the World.” Posted November 24, 2017.  Look here, particularly for the photo of the Moravian church in Leh, Ladakh, made to resemble local style architecture.

PS: Looking at the frontispiece, it is difficult to avoid the thought that it was inspired and informed by earlier paintings of St. Francis of Assissi receiving the Stigmata. See for a ca. 1300 example Giotto’s.

Whether Moravian wound devotion was an unnatural aberration or an expectable development of trends within the broader Christian world (see especially Vogt) is something you may have to sort out for yourself, if that’s the sort of thing that interests you. In the British Isles one may detect a longterm development between the 15th century when a cult of Five Wounds reached its peak (Floyer), until the 19th when a anomalously Protestant rash of stigmata took place (Smeyers).

But if you closely inspect and contrast Haidt’s and Giotto’s paintings you will observe the differences in the places the light rays lead to and from, and then some of you will want to conclude that Haidt was influenced by Tibetan Buddhism.

For Paul Peucker’s hour-long exploration of Haidt’s life and artistry, we have this interesting video, posted April 16, 2021. An odd detail: Haidt’s painting of a manger scene shows what apparently is Mary’s midwife, known only in extra-canonical scriptures. Her name was Salome, and a cave-tomb that was once a cult center for Christians in her memory was only made public earlier today (December 21, 2022). There is one decisive clue that the 2nd woman is the midwife: We see in the painting how her one hand holds the other. Part of the story is that her hand was paralyzed when she temporarily doubted the Virgin’s virginity. The tomb had been known for sometime, but newly identified thanks to the recent discovery of an inscription that reads something like, “Salome who was Mary’s midwife.” That the story was released shortly before Christmas was not an accident. 

PPS (still Dec. 21): If you would like to unravel the mystery of why Salome is holding her hands in that way, you shouldn’t trust the news stories, or my own account of it just given, and go directly to the “Infancy Gospel of James,” chapters 19-20. We can all use some fact checking sometimes. Salome was not exactly the midwife, and her hand wasn’t exactly paralyzed (in fact, her “hand was on fire, and falling away from her’). As a “doubting Thomas” type of figure she has to perform her empirical test by inserting her finger somewhere else besides the side wound.

Another thing: The burial cave and its inscription with the name of Salome has been known for years now. For proof, see this 2019 blog by a Holy Land tour guide. Today’s news releases are more than a little disingenuous about this, using weasel words like “recently.”

-  -  -

“O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs,* let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice ; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.” 

—    Song of Solomon 2:14 [King James version]

(*Crag or overhang, in the singular, would have been better translation choices.  Or maybe alcove, a word of Semitic origins.)

 

Rock of ages, cleft for me,

let me hide myself in thee;

let the water and the blood,

from thy wounded side which flowed,

be of sin the double cure;

save from wrath and make me pure.

—    Rock of Ages, the hymn by Augustus Toplady (1763) 

Note: For a typically allegorical Christian interpretation (not something that should ever be done by people like Calvinists, professing a belief in the inerrancy of scripture taken literally) of the Bible verse by John Gill, a teacher of the just-mentioned Toplady, look here. These were Calvinists, not Moravians, although they did belong to the same century as Zinzendorf. Rock of Ages was written soon after Zinzendorf’s death. It is today among the top most-sung hymns in North American evangelical hymnbooks. It might come in at second place after Amazing Grace.

The Realm of Dharmas, a Treasury of Jewels. Chapter 6: Everything is Included in Bodhicitta

The Realm of Dharmas,

a Treasury of Jewels,

by Longchen Rabjampa

CHAPTER SIX

EVERYTHING IS INCLUDED IN BODHICITTA

[It has been shown that all dharmas are included in the purity of the Awareness substantiality.  Meanwhile, it will be shown that, because Dharma Proper and suchness are on the same side, everything is included in the Unproduced continuity.]

As lights are gathered in the essence of the Sun, even

so, the roots of all dharmas are gathered in Bodhicitta.

Appearances/becoming, material/vital and even impure error,

in short, all occurrences are, when the realm of their situations

and dependencies is examined,

gathered in the continuum of foundationless, totally disentangled

citta.

The continuum of the great x—pansive total receptive center that

Dharma Proper is

is gathered in a place beyond the words and meanings of 

‘error’ and ‘unerror’.

˚

[Just as dreams are included in the sleep continuity, so all dharma-having (objects) are included in the continuity of Awareness.]

The appropriate manifestations which are pure—

Body, Buddha, and

the miraculous play of Full Knowledge activity as well,

are included without inclusion or exclusion

in the continuity of the self-engendered.

Including all appearances/becoming and sangsara/nirvana,

the Bodhicitta

is an uncompounded void-clarity like the sun-sky.

From the beginning, it is an expansive total receptive centre,

self-engendered.

[This Awareness-Bodhicitta which excludes no dharmas whatsoever is, like the sun, naturally and implicitly luminous and, like the sky, void and ownerless.  The self-engendered Full Knowledge is called “the primordial Dharmabody which has buddhaized whatever is.”

The All Making King says,

Dharma Proper beyond everything is Bodhicitta.

Bodhicitta is the heart of all dharmas.

Bodhicitta is the root of all dharmas.

As the root, it combines the purpose of everything.]

˚

[The great receptive centre shows the nature of citta.]

The continuity of the changeless sky great receptive centre that

Mind Proper is

has no fixed part to play.  It is Bodhicitta’s special power.

Since it steers all sangsara/nirvana Vehicles,

the one thing that is unemployed is the master of all.

It isn’t separated from objective spheres of those who have

gone to extremes.

There has been no place to go besides the Dharma-Proper-Bodhicitta.

˚

[Now there will be closely formulated for the All-including a simile of its unmovedness.]

The total good of everything has dawned as one naturally-arrived-at.

Everything without exception included, its supremacy is beyond compare.

The greatest of greats total good Realm of Dharmas,

like a king, draws everything together.

Unmoved, yet it has wielded its power over all sangsara/nirvana.

[Just as a king, without moving from his own palace, draws his subjects under his rule, the continuum of Awareness, without moving from Dharma Proper, draws together all sangsara/nirvana.

Everything was made by Bodhicitta and, while everything has dawned from citta, the Mind Proper was not made by anything.  It is beyond all actions and things to do; so things to do are shown to be unnecessary.

The All Making King says,

Bodhicitta made everything.  One was not made.

The all-made the nature of clear comprehension made.

For the one unmade, making is unnecessary.]

˚

[Because the nature of the totality of dharmas is levelness, it is shown to lack good/bad, pushing/striving.]

Everything is totally good.          Not one is bad.

Without good/bad, things are one in Total Good.

Things arrived-at or unarrived-at are all one Realm.

All are, in naturally-arrived-at unmoving levelness,          one.

˚

[What has dawned from the Realm is in itself beyond pushing/striving.]

Everything has dawned from one.    The Realm of All Dharmas

is nothing to be made.                      In its continuity

is nothing to be pushing,                nothing to be striving for.

Pushing/striving do not exist apart from the appropriate Realm.

So from where did you push?          To where do you strive?

˚

[Therefore, it is beyond both cause/effect & pushing/striving.]

There is no objective field of pushing,     nothing to see in meditation,

no place to strive for.     It hasn’t come from somewhere else

It doesn’t come.     It doesn’t go.     It is levelness,

the Dharmabody.

It is subsumed into the Realm of the Great Drop, naturally completed.

[The sky-like substance of Mind Proper is a single spot Realm. Since all dharmas are included in its continuity, there is nothing to be pushed by the ten natures, etc. That which isn’t to be pushed is the Realm of Dharmas, undelineated.]

˚

[Now it will be shown that in Awareness-Bodhicitta all Vehicles are included.  The way the three lesser Vehicles are included:]

The scriptural authorities of Hearers,

                                          Solitary Realizers &

                                           Bodhisattvas

have determined the non existence of me and mine.

The underlying meaning to the “sky-like undiffusive” is the same.

And the scriptural authorities of the supremely secret great yoga of Ati?

Because no matter how it is that the self-engendered Full Knowledge

is actually assigned

to the expansive sky-without-self/other-divisions,

the underlying intention is, in any case, included

in this supreme Heart Ati.

[The Hearers hold that all internal and external dharmas are sky-like, lacking selfhood and ‘person’. The Solitary Realizers say, moreover, that half of the dharmas are not things to be grasped. The Bodhisattvas say that the absence of grasper and grasped, of selfhood pertaining to either dharmas or ‘person’, is sky-like. These views affirm rather than contradict the view of Ati-yoga.]

˚

[The middling three Vehicles are also included in Ati.] [Note: The Diamond Peak is a tantra of the Yoga class held as especially authoritative by the Japanese Shingon school.]

All the three classes of Kriya,

                                      Upa &

                                   Yoga

are the same in holding that the immaculate attainments of body,

                                                                                     speech &

                                                                                      mind

come from the offering rituals of oneself,

                                                 the divinities &

                                                  samadhi.

According to the secret king of scriptural authorities,

the Diamond Peak,

appearances and sounds are immaculate Awareness totally divinized.

Since they bring the immaculate attainments of body,

                                                                     speech &

                                                                      mind into the open,

all their underlying intentions are included in this supreme Heart Ati.

˚

[The superior three Vehicles are completed in Ati.]

The three grades Maha,

                         Anu &

                         Ati believe

in the unmoving Dharma Proper and self-engendered Full Knowledge.

Since appearances/becoming, material/vital, the fields of gods & goddesses,

and Realm-Full Knowledge are immaculate in their indivisibility,

in this most secret supreme, everything is immaculate.

Everything is disentangled into the total vastness receptive centre of

Dharmabody.

Without named dharmas, pushing-working or accepting/rejecting,

everything is from the unmade Palace, the total receptive centre

field of comfort

with no in or out side, spread-out,   embracing all.

All these underlying intentions are included in the great secret

Heart Ati.

˚

[Now, everything being included in Bodhicitta, the meaning is completely summed up.]

One complete.   All complete.   The receptive centre where

all dharmas are included

is included in the totally settled, self-luminous Great

Naturally-arrived-at.

[“One complete.” means completion in Bodhicitta.

  “Two complete.” means the creations of mind are complete.

  “All complete.” means every last thing is perfect.]

 

Return to the beginning.

The White Old Man Sūtra - Part Two

To start at the beginning, click here.

So here is my fast attempt to elaborate on the meanings of every last detail in this surprisingly complex picture. First of all, look on the Old Man’s right hand and see how he holds a pitcher or ewer in the act of pouring out a ritual libation into a small stemmed goblet that rests on top of a larger bowl in its turn placed on an altar table. The larger bowl is there to catch the overflow from the goblet. The overflow itself conveys a notion of copious overabundance.

Another, more lightly printed, example 

of a verso of the 100 srang banknote

Some may imagine it to be a ‘secular’ scene of an old man pouring himself a drink, but no, nothing could be further from the truth. The elaborate ritual setup indicates a normative practice of Tibetan Buddhism — some people, be they male or female, monastic or lay, perform it every morning. This relatively simple ritual, usually called Water Casting (ཆུ་གཏོར་, ཆབ་གཏོར་, or མཆོད་གཏོར་), involves the pouring of the liquid accompanied by prayers for the pretas, or “hungry ghosts.” Not only was it performed by the earliest Kadampas, but by Bonpos even before them. This practice is supposed to be done out of compassion for those unfortunate beings known as pretas, unable to eat or drink on their own, since it all turns to fire in their mouths. Not incidentally, the practice develops Buddhist merit* and compassion in the person who performs it. One significant further point: Even if the word yidag / ཡི་དྭགས་ generally used for preta is employed here, the objects of compassion are widened to include other large classes of spirit beings, even including the spirits of the dead.

(*I hope to devote some writing to Buddhist ideas about merit another time, but at the moment, do remember that it is one of the two legs that permit advancement on the Path to Enlightenment in Great Vehicle Buddhism. As one of the Two Accummulations, it cannot just be tossed aside in favor of intellectualism or meditation as our 21st-century neo-Buddhists so often try to do.)

Now move directly above the altar and what you will see is a bat flying in the sky, swooping toward a fruiting tree. It is known that some kinds of bats feed off of fruits. I regard that fact as irrelevant to our reading of the tableau. Their close proximity in the picture is accidental. My reason for thinking so: It’s well known that the bat as a positive cultural symbol is owed to a pun in Chinese. The Chinese word for ‘bat,’ “蝠” (fú) sounds exactly the same as the word for ‘good fortune,’ and ‘wealth’ “福” (fú), and you can see an obvious similarity in the characters as well.* This pun explains why you can see artistic representations of bats all over the place in Chinese households, not just in temples.

(*Look here for an amusing analysis of the parts that make up the character.)

You also see here a cloth article that looks like a scarf draped over the tree limb. I had to think long and hard about this one. Of course it may or may not be a Tibetan khata. Although difficult to be certain, it actually seems to be a Mongolian contribution to the iconography. Still, it does remind us of Arhat portraits (based in the Vinaya Sūtra, and meant to illustrate it, I believe) in which a part of the clothing is just being left on a nearby limb to dry. Like the tableaus I describe here, these Arhat scenes are often painted on the walls of the monastery on the outside... Hmmm, this sounds like the beginning of a theory that would explain the placement of those tableaus... 

But then again, it may be in some way associated with the scarf in the iconography of ’O-de-gung-rgyal (and similar long-life deities with varied names) explained by Toni Huber in his book Source of Life (vol. 1, p. 84). Let me quote it at some length:

“The white silk pennant or scarf they hold encodes a dual symbolism that expresses the transfer of life powers between cosmic realms. One of its aspects is g.yang,* and such scarves are sometimes referred to as g.yang dar, while the other aspect of the white scarf is a symbol of the messenger, of something pure and important passing between agents. For these reasons the white scarf is closely associated with the messenger bat...”

(*My note: On g.yang as a culture-specific concept, look here.) 

Given the great distances and cultural differences involved, it is rather impressive that the conceptual pairing of scarf and bat that we see in our tableau would show up in remote areas of eastern Bhutan in contexts that are regarded as inestimably archaic and local.

Some people see pomegranates or persimmons, but I believe this is a  peach tree. These are the peaches of immortality, well known from very early Chinese ideas about the Queen Mother of the West (Xiwangmu) who used to preside over peach feasts with the immortals of her court in a place often identified with the Kunlun Mountains. While these relatively low mountains form the natural northern border of the Tibetan Plateau, they don’t seem to be known to Tibetan literature. Even so, in Chinese myth and literature (and now film) they have assumed a towering importance. I suppose the immortals were already as immortal as they could ever hope to be, yet the peaches were said to confer longevity if not immortality.

Now we continue circumambulating in the Bon direction, with the left hand oriented toward the central figure. Passing over a cloud-and-mountain-with-waterfall landscape we next encounter a pair of dancing cranes. Pairs of cranes remain lifelong lovers, but they are also amazingly long-lived. Chinese sources have sometimes attributed to them lifespans as long as a thousand years. I like to imagine, as one who has seen for himself how inspiringly and effortlessly they soar in slow spirals upward into the sky, taking advantage of thermal updrafts, that something about that is in there, too. They make migration look too easy.

Next in our leftward turn is what would seem to be an arrangement of offerings related to the libation ritual directly above it. This may well be the case, but close inspection tells me the basin is filled with peaches with their leaves still attached. Do you see something else?

I think the deer couple appears clearly enough for everyone to recognize, but what is that thing off to the side? One of the deer seems to be turning its head toward it. It looks like a plant, but a plant with some kind of bulbous growth in the center. This would be a lingzhi fungus. Sometimes, even if not here, the lingzhi is depicted as if it were growing out of the deer’s head. In Chinese lore, these deer are sort of like the pigs that are used to sniff out truffles in France. The mushroom hunters would never be able to find the lingzhi without the help of the deer, since to every other creature they are invisible.

You can see a few more lingzhi fungi here, but what I want to point out right now is the rocky cavern with the stream of water descending from it. I did have trouble putting my finger on this exactly, but I was imagining it reflects Chinese landscape ideas. Artistically speaking it seems obvious. What we see here bears meanings situated between, or is perhaps shared by, fengshui geomancy and ideals of Chinese landscape painting. When I looked into it further, I thought the landscape feature might be the one known as “shan shui” (dragon/mountain + descending stream). Still, a cave with a water source inside of it has a special name in Chinese that is, as a matter of convention, translated as “grotto.”  

Now look a little to your left. You can see a row of blossoms leading diagonally to  a more distant grotto that I think, with good reason, would indicate the Peach Blossom Grotto, a kind of bucolic Shangri-la of the Daoists. We do have the close proximity of the peaches and the grottos, so we may be justified in putting two and three together like this. There is a long and rich history of the Peach Blossom Grotto in China and a number of Sinological essays are devoted to it. It is a place very difficult if not impossible to find, but going there would mean encountering the immortals.

Now for the main figure of the White Old Man itself: First observe the smaller human seated on a mat of grass to his left side. Sometimes this is called an “acolyte figure,” as if it were a child assistant in a Catholic mass, procession or the like. I see no reason to speak Catholic here, so I would suggest the youth depicted here represents 'youth,' or or maybe even rejuvenation. The youth seems to hold something up in one hand, but I am unable to make out what it is. Alternatively or at the same time, he may serve as an attendant, an errand boy.

The Old Man’s very corpulence is a sign of opulence. His right hand holds the ritual ewer, in his left a rosary. The ewer we have mentioned already, but the rosary is evidently a māla used as support for mantra recitations, a constant occupation of many Tibetan elders. He has a beard, no doubt very white. 

There is one interesting thing, among others, that is not visible here. We might think he needs to have a staff inside the crook of his left elbow. The staff might end, as the texts describe and prescribe in a knob or handle in the shape of a dragon. But not here, which is remarkable since it would seem to be one of the few constants according to the Sūtra and texts associated with it. More on these texts presently.

Now let’s leave the money behind for a few minutes and have a quick glance at the literary sources, especially as these have bearing on the iconography.

Here above, you see the opening lines of the White Old Man Sūtra, in Sanj Altan’s translation from the Oirat version. Pay special attention to the iconographical information in lines 10-12. This text is sometimes called by that just-given title, but also The Sūtra of the Power to Keep within Bounds the Earth and Water.  The titles you see below.

Both of the texts you see here are from the collection of the Mongolian National Library (Ulan Bator). Both are scans done by agreement with the BDRC. I think we can safely say that these Tibetan texts are local Mongolian products, and that versions of it might not even exist on the Tibetan plateau (we need to demonstrate local Tibetan interest rather than assume it, since Mongolian monks did compose and scribe Tibetan texts for their own use). One interesting thing is that the title is given first in Chinese, which would suggest that the original text was in that language. Still, I do not know of any Chinese version of it existing today (I may very well require correction on this point), and believe that this apocryphal scripture was made in Mongolia, very likely by a monk who knew Tibetan language as they very often did, in order to accommodate the local cult of the White Old Man within a Buddhist context.

An outstandingly talented artist, Robert Beer supplies two versions of the Old Man in his book, yet it is only the one labeled as "Tibetan style" that is based on an earlier painting done by a Tibetan, while it appears that the "Chinese style" he created by combining various elements he thought to be Chinese, many of them indeed associated with immortals and with the Old Man of Chinese lore called Shouxing (Shou Hsing). It’s interesting that he is depicted with an antlered deer, this being his usual mount, a dragon-headed staff,* and a gourd. Why is the gourd there at the top of the staff? That question leads us into amazing territory nicely surveyed by R.A. Stein in his book, a book I much recommend. The gourd was used by Chinese herbalists to contain the herbs they collected in the mountains. It also served for Daoists as a container for a miniature world that immortals could physically enter into by miniaturizing themselves. It is basically equivalent to the grotto, both gourd and grotto being a normally unseen interior world, perhaps in miniature; both are populated by hermits or refugees from the busy world, and they have skies of their own, no matter how difficult that may be to think about...  Oh, and the staff ought to be craggy and a little crooked, resembling a gnarly pine tree limb, if it is to be associated with Chinese immortals. Not the smooth cane we see here. In sum, I would have composed the picture of the "Chinese style" a little differently than Beer did.

(*The dragon head on the staff might seem to indicate Chinese origins, but I believe it to be a Mongolian contribution to the iconography of the White Old Man. Of course it requires further consideration. I am not especially clear what Beer meant by "Chinese style." He might be talking about actually artistic practice in China, but on the other hand he might intend a conscious artistic choice made by a Tibetan artist to produce a Chinese-inspired painting... )

I’m not going to go into the very relevant question of when the Mongolian White Old Man entered into Tibetan monastic dances called Cham (འཆམ་). The common wisdom is that the 13th Dalai Lama introduced it, inspired by a performance he witnessed during his time in Mongolia in the early 20th century. (I haven’t been able to trace a Tibetan-language source on this yet.)  It’s interesting to see how Cham dances done in different Himalayan communities identify the same figure as either the Chinese Hoshang, or as the White Old Man.  I can’t sort that out right now, but it is fascinating and merits reflection. In Tibetan Cham he tends to have a comic role, in that he attempts to perform simple lay Buddhist practices like khata offerings and prostrations and fails miserably. Or should we say hilariously?

I did my best for the time being to locate earlier testimonies for the White Old Man in Tibetan history, and by far the most interesting thing I could come up with is an 18th century verse by a well-known author of eastern Tibet.

The Six of Long Life,

by Zhuchen Tsultrim Rinchen (1697-1774)

On the author, see the biographical sketch by Benjamin Nourse at Treasury of Lives.

 

སྔོན་དུས་མ་ཧཱ་ཙི་ནའི་ཡུལ་གྲུ་ན།།

བསྐལ་པ་ཆགས་པའི་ཐོག་མར་བྱུང་བའི་བྲག།

མཐོ་མཛེས་དྲུང་གི་དབེན་གནས་ཉམས་དགའ་རུ།།

འཆི་མེད་མགོན་པོ་གྲུབ་པའི་དྲང་སྲོང་བྱུང་།།

In an era long gone by, in the region of Mahācīna,

was a rock that emerged at the dawn of the eon's formation.

Close by its lofty splendor, in a pleasant retreat place,

appeared an accomplished sage, a master of immortality.

དེ་མཐུས་བྲག་རི་དེ་ཡི་འགྲམ་པ་ནས།།

རྒ་ཤི་མེད་པའི་བཅུད་ལེན་ཚེ་ཡི་ཆུ།།

རྟག་པར་བབ་ཅིང་མྱ་ངན་མེད་པའི་ཤིང་།།

མེ་ཏོག་འབྲས་བུས་ལྕི་བ་ཞིག་ཀྱང་སྐྱེས།།

Through his magical powers at the side of that rocky mountain appeared 

a spring of life with alchemical powers to do away with old age and death.

It flowed down unceasingly and there as well was an Ashoka [non-suffering] tree

heavily weighted down with flowers and fruits.

དྲང་སྲོང་དེ་ཡི་བྱམས་པའི་ར་བ་ན།།

ཟང་ཟིང་མི་འཇིགས་སྦྱིན་པའི་གཡབ་མོ་ཡིས།།

འཁོར་དུ་བོས་པའི་འདབ་ཆགས་སྤུ་སྡུག་དང་།།

རི་དགས་རུ་རུ་གནས་པའང་ཚེ་རིང་གྱུར།།

Fast within the corral of that sage's affection 

were the soft downed birds, their birdsongs all around, 

and dwelling with them the Ruru deer. 

With a wave of his hand he grants them fearlessness and food. 

དེ་དག་རྒ་ཤི་སྤངས་པའི་བདེ་བ་ལ།། 

རེག་པ་གང་ཕྱིར་ཚེ་རིང་རྣམ་དྲུག་ཅེས།།

གྲགས་པའི་འཕྲིན་ཡིག་ཕྱོགས་ཀྱི་དགའ་མ་ཡི།།

མཁུར་ཚོས་རྣམ་པར་མཛེས་པའི་རྒྱན་དུ་བྱིན།།

Together these are known as the Six of Long Life who serve 

for attaining to the comfort of being done with old age and death.

This announcement letter is offered as an ornament to beautify

the cheeks of the gladdening women of the compass directions.*

(*Note: Zhuchen liked to use the image of “the cheeks of the gladdening women” in other contexts, and I believe these are all alluding to the messenger poems, an Indic literary genre, its most famous example being Kālidāsa's Cloud Messenger. I should add in order to forestall predictable reactions, that the ‘Indianization’ of particular elements in the poem — the tree identified as Ashoka tree, the deer as a ruru deer, for examples — reflects the strong impulse within Tibet's own traditions of kāvya poetry to Indianize whenever possible for artistic/aesthetic reasons. This is •not• an example of Buddhist ‘appropriation’ along the lines you might be thinking.)

As I said already, his iconographic white color bears no connection to skin color or race. It’s the color of his hair if he has any and beard, and/or his clothing. This iconographic whiteness is something he holds in common with the primary ancestral divinity (with varied names and guises including one we mentioned already) associated with the rites of bringing down life that Toni Huber explored so thoroughly in his recent two-volume book. His tunic, scarf, horse, deer, bird etc. are all said to be white (pp. 83-84). Of course there are a lot of observations about details such as these that might be pointed out (the bat for another surprising instance). 

Mongolists mostly have faith in the idea that today’s White Old Man is an adapted form of an ancient, natively Mongol shamanic complex. Still, Chinese origins for much of his iconography is relatively clear, while one academic, Brian Baumann, deserves attention for his arguments in favor of Indic priority in the form of the sage Agastya, often identified with the bright but seldom seen southern star Canopus. And for those who can’t imagine that Tibet could possibly be a place of origins, I’d ask them to read Toni Huber’s book I mentioned before.

If made to decide what the main point of it all ought to be, I think it is this: The inter-national, inter-cultural dimensions of the cult of longevity as we find instanced in so many parts of eastern Eurasia has had very complex interconnections reaching far back into the haze of prehistory. So far back I’m convinced we will never be able to single out a single culture as the one that best exemplifies it, or that would preserve it in its most pristine forms. As usual, I think reflections about possibilities can be more productive than closing off discussion with a conclusion. Now that it’s so close to lunchtime, might I suggest as starter the sautéed mushrooms? The lingzhi if you can find them.

Reading list

Fred Adelman, “The American Kalmyks,” Expedition, vol. 3, no. 4 (1961), pp. 26-33, with photographs by Carleton S. Coon. There is also a digital version of it.

Sanj Altan, “An Oirad-Kalmyk Version of the ‘White Old Man’ Sūtra found among the Archives of the Late Lama Sanji Rabga Möngke Bakši,” Mongolian Studies, vol. 29 (2007), pp. 13-26. This includes a translation of an Oirat Mongolian text, preserved within the Kalmuck community in Philadelphia, of the apocryphal sūtra listed below as Tibetan text no. 4.

Barbara Mary Annan, “Persistence and Renewal of Worship of the White Old Man in Western Mongolia: An Independent Folklore Research Project in Collaboration with Dr. Balchig Katuu.” The great value of this 16-page essay (including photos) is that it recounts a number of stories told from life about the persistence of Old White Man related beliefs among modern Mongolians, particularly those in the western regions. Available at academia.edu.

Anonymous, “Buddhists Build Their Own Church,” Life, no. 33 (November 10, 1952), pp. 97-98.

Robert Antony, “The Peach Tree” (posted on August 30, 2022).

Although I don’t know on what basis, it is sometimes said that peach trees were first domesticated, which is to say grown in orchards, on the slopes of the Kunlun Mountains, and if this is so it may serve as a kind of vindication of the Chinese myths. What is more certain is that the domestication of the peach took place in the general area of China (which specific spot it is difficult to determine).

Richard M. Barnhart, Peach Blossom Spring: Gardens and Flowers in Chinese Paintings, The Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York 1983). A gorgeously illustrated exhibition catalog on pre-18th-century paintings of garden scenes, with well written and evocative essays as well.

Brian Baumann, “The Legend of Mother Tārā the Green,” contained in: Vesna A. Wallace, ed., Sources of Mongolian Buddhism, Oxford University Press (Oxford 2020), pp. 361-382.  On p. 363:

“The White Ṛṣi in question is obviously a foreign deity in the Mongolian tradition that originated in Hindu Brāhmaṇism. There ‘White Ṛṣi’ is an epithet for the deity Agastya, personification of the star Canopus. It so happens that the White Old Man the White Ṛṣi turns into is a personification of the exact same star only in Chinese Daoist tradition. The text therefore appears to allude to the assimilation of Chinese Canopus allegory from heterodox Daoism into the Mongolian Buddhist pantheon, an act which appears to have taken place sometime in the mid eighteenth century. Shamanism is a synthetic ontology invented by Western scholars and ascribed to the Mongols irrespective of historical reality. The Legend of Green Tārā has nothing to do with it whatsoever.”

Brian Baumann, “The White Old Man.”  Paper given in Berkeley (2017).  Video on YouTube.

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Brian Baumann, “The White Old Man: Géluk-Mongolian Canopus Allegory and the Existence of God,” Central Asiatic Journal, vol. 62, no. 1 (2019), pp. 35-68.

Robert Beer, “Narrative Illustrations,” Chapter 4 in: The Encyclopedia of Tibetan Symbols and Motifs, Serindia (London 1999), pp. 94-100.  

What he calls narrative illustrations I call tableaus. The modern British artist supplies a Chinese style grouping called Shou-Lao, or the Six Symbols of Longevity (plate 58), as well as a Tibetan-style group he calls by the same name (plate 59). In both case he identifies the fruits as peaches. He says the Tibetan-style version is patterned after a drawing by the modern Tibetan Tsering Wangchub (Wangchug?) of Tashijong. It seems that the Chinese version is the British artist’s own creation, combining various elements perceived as being Chinese.

Wolfgang Bertsch, A Study of Tibetan Paper Money with a Critical Bibliography, Library of Tibetan Works and Archives (Dharamsala 1997). 

This publication is a serious analytical study, the best I know about, and it doesn’t give indications of values given to banknotes by collectors. I understand that the 50-srang notes are actually much more valuable to them than the 100, counterintuitive as that may seem. Both have the Long-Life Man design on their versos.

Raoul Birnbaum, “Secret Halls of the Mountain Lords: The Caves of Wu-t'ai shan,” Cahiers d'Extrême-Asie, vol. 5 (1989-1990), pp. 15-140. 

 

Àgnes Birtalan, “Ritual Texts Dedicated to the White Old Man with Examples from the Classical Mongolian and Oirat (Clear Script) Textual Corpora,” contained in: Vesna A. Wallace, ed., Sources of Mongolian Buddhism, Oxford University Press (Oxford 2020), pp. 270-293. The same author wrote an essay, “Cagān Öwgön – The White Old Man in the Leder Collections The Textual and Iconographic Tradition of the Cult of the White Old Man among the Mongols,” although I haven’t gotten access to it.

Stephen R. Bokenkamp, “The Peach Flower Font and the Grotto Passage,” Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. 106, no. 1 (1986), pp. 65-77.

Suzanne E. Cahill, Transcendence & Divine Passion: The Queen Mother of the West in Medieval China, Stanford University Press (Stanford 1993). I think everyone agrees this is the best source available in English about the Queen Mother of the West and her residences.

Barbara Gerke, Long Lives and Untimely Deaths: Life-Span Concepts and Longevity Practices among Tibetans in the Darjeeling Hills, India, Brill (Leiden 2012).

Walther Heissig, The Religions of Mongolia, tr. by Geoffrey Samuel from the German edition of 1970, Routledge & Kegan Paul (London 1980), pp. 76-81. At p. 76 you can see how Tibetan rgan, ‘elder,’ and sgam, ‘wise clever,’ get crossed somehow:  

“The Mongols worship under the name of Tsaghan Ebügen (White Old Man) a deity of the herds and of fertility, who is also present with the same form of manifestation and the same functions among the Tibetans (sGam po dkar po)* and the Na-khi tribes of South-West China (Muan-llū-ddu-ndzi), and to whom East Asian parallels can be found in the Chinese Hwa-shang, Pu-tai Hoshang and the Japanese Jurojin, and a European parallel in the form of the bearded St. Nicholas. This is an instance of the veneration of the ‘Old Man’ as a personification of the creative principle.”

(*My note: Observe how the Tibetan spelling meaning “White Wise [Man]” is given rather than the spelling that means ‘White Old Man,’ but this confusion of near homonyms appears to be endemic, and may be indicative, which is not to say that old always means wise. In his iconography he is often characterized by a dragon-headed staff that Heissig understands as the shaman’s staff.)

Futaki Hiroshi, “Classification of Texts Related to the White Old Man,” contained in: H. Futaki & B. Oyunbilig, eds., Questiones Mongolorum Disputatae, Association for International Studies of Mongolian Culture (Tokyo 2005), pp. 35-46.  

Toni Huber, “An Obscure Word for ‘Ancestral Deity’ in Some East Bodish and Neighbouring Himalayan Languages & Qiang Ethnographic Records towards a Hypothesis,” contained in: Mark W. Post, et al., eds., Language & Culture in Northeast India & Beyond in Honor of Robbins Burling, Asia-Pacific Linguistics (Canberra 2015), pp. 162-181. 

On a curious name for the clan ancester deity: Gu-se-lang-ling, it appears in various forms including "Gurzhe," and is often spoken of as 'O-de-gung-rgyal. A less emphasized figure is Tshangs-pa or Tshangs-pa Dkar-po as a natively Tibetan figure (and not as a translation of Brahma!?). More on this in his 2020 book, vol. 1, pp. 80-93.

Toni Huber, “From Death to New Life: An 11th-12th Century Cycle of Existence from Southernmost Tibet: Analysis of Rnel dri 'dul ba, Ste'u & Sha slungs Rites, with Notes on Manuscript Provenance,” contained in: G. Hazod & W. Shen, eds., Tibetan Genealogies: Studies in Memoriam of Guge Tsering Gyalpo (1961-2015), China Tibetology Publishing (Beijing 2018), pp. 251-350.  

Toni Huber, Source of Life: Revitalisation Rites and Bon Shamans in Bhutan and the Eastern Himalayas, Austrian Academy of Sciences Press (Vienna 2020), in 2 volumes. While centered on extensive research into local traditions still current in the eastern half of Bhutan and the adjacent Mon-yul Corridor, issues of broad-ranging areal significance are drawn from them. Highly recommended.

Toni Huber, “The Iconography of gShen Priests in the Ethnographic Context of the Extended Eastern Himalayas, and Reflections on the Development of Bon Religion,” contained in: Franz-Karl Ehrhard & Petra Maurer, eds., Nepalica-Tibetica: Festgabe for Christoph Cüppers, International Institute for Tibetan and Buddhist Studies (Andiast 2013), vol. 1, pp. 263-294.  See especially pp. 266-267 for the ‘Great Wise Bat’ (Sgam-chen Pha-wang), a useful summary on the subject that also takes up an entire chapter in Toni’s monograph Source of Life.

Siegbert Hummel, “The White Old Man,” tr. by G. Vogliotti, The Tibet Journal, vol. 22, no. 4 (Winter 1997), pp. 59-70. Originally published in German in Sinologica, vol. 6 (1961), pp. 193-206. This discusses the age of his cult in Tibet as well as the exchange of identities between him and the Hoshang.

Caroline Humphrey, “A Note on the Kalmyk Tsagan Aav, the ‘White Grandfather’: Ritual and Iconography,” might be found posted at Kalmyk Heritage website.

Tenzin Jamtsho, “The Old Man ‘Mitshering’ at Nyima Lung Monastery,” Journal of Bhutanese Studies, vol. 28 (Summer 2013), pp. 90-99. 

This is mainly about the dance figure known to some Bhutanese as the Long-Life Man (Mi Tshe-ring) and to others as Rgyal-po Hwa-shang, suggesting he was both a king and a Chinese monk. In my experience he is always identified as being in some way Chinese, although within the context of the monastic dances he always pays his respects to Guru Rinpoche.

Luther G. Jerstad, Mani-Rimdu: Sherpa Dance-Drama, University of Washington Press (Seattle 1969), pp. 129-135:

Here we have a significant description of the Long-Life Man 0r “Mi-tshe-ring,” with photos of the same in the illustrations between pages 128 and 129.  The figures of the Long-Life Man and the Hoshang are combined together, something that happens with some frequency elsewhere, but here in the land of the Sherpas in Nepal, the comic figure takes precedence. He makes valiant attempts to perform simple acts of worship and offering, but fails hilariously each time. Interestingly enough, it is suggested that he was imported by the 13th Dalai Lama from Peking, with not the least mention of Mongolia.

Richard J. Kohn, Lord of the Dance: The Mani Rimdu Festival in Tibet and Nepal, State University of New York Press (Albany 2001), in particular “Dance Five: The Long-Life Man,” at pp. 199-204.

Among the Sherpas of Solu-Kumbu of Nepal, the Long Life Man performance is made up of lay religious practices badly performed by him and his acolytes including offerings of ritual scarves or khatags, prostrations, and, most significantly for our currency iconography.the water torma offering (chu-gtor).

Stephen Little with Shawn Eichman, Taoism and the Arts of China, The Art Institute of Chicago (Chicago 2000).  At pp. 268-271 are some marvelous painted scrolls of the Shouxing and at pp. 276-277 a very nice one of Xiwangmu; her assistant holds up a bowl of peaches with the leaves attached, a thing we see sitting on the ground in our Tibetan banknote.

S. Mahdihassan, “The Patron-Gods of Health and of Longevity: Chinese, Greek and Indian,” Bulletin of the Indian Institute for the History of Medicine, vol. 19, no. 1 (January 1989), pp. 111-127. The pharmacology/alchemy of revitalization and longevity hasn’t been my main theme, but I do think this article can instigate important comparative reflections.

Jim R. McClanahan, “Journey to the West and Islamic Lore,” a webpage posted back in 2017, but updated earlier this year. Especially pertinent for the parts about the speaking peaches and the Waqwaq tree. Thanks to S.V.V. for suggesting the link.

Rene de Nebesky-Wojkowitz, Tibetan Religious Dances: Tibetan Text and Annotated Translation of the 'Chams Yig, Paljor Publications (New Delhi 1997), pp. 82-84.  

As a figure in monastic masked dances, the Hashang is sometimes highly honored and in other cases ridiculed, depending on the audience and what they perceive him to be. It may be that his role in these dances in Tibetan regions is not very old, but introduced by the 13th Dalai Lama after his visit to Mongolia.  At p. 83:  

“Originally cagan öbö seems to have been a divinity of the pre-Buddhist Mongolian folk religion. He was apparently a clan deity and moreover a benevolent earth spirit protecting the household, the herds, and the pastures and granting rich harvests.”

Jeremy Roberts, Chinese Mythology A to Z [Second Edition], Chelsea House Publishers (New York 2010), p. 114:

“Shouxing (Shou Hsing, Shou-hsing Lao T’ou-tzu) The Chinese god of longevity, connected with a star located in the constellation of Argo. The star is known to many in the West as Canopus, the second-brightest star in the sky.”

Edward H. Schafer, “Empyreal Powers and Chthonian Edens: Two Notes on T’ang Taoist Literature,” Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. 106, no. 4 (October 1986), pp. 667-677.  On the Peach Blossom Grotto and so on.

Karma Lekshe Tsomo, “Prayers of Resistance,” Nova Religio, vol. 20, no. 1 (August 2016), pp. 86-98.  At p. 92:

“On the second and sixteenth days of the lunar calendar, they go to the field to pray to the White Old Man, a practice of nature worship that predates Buddhism in Central Asian cultures. In this ritual, the women worship the master of nature and make prayers for peace, rain, and abundant crops, and to stave off natural disasters. They make a fire using butter and sheep fat, and present their requests for the welfare of both people and animals.”

Franciscus Verellen, “The Beyond Within: Grotto-Heavens (Dongtian) in Taoist Ritual and Cosmology,” Cahiers d'Extrême-Asie, vol. 8 (1995), pp. 265-290.

Sissi Wachtel-Galor, John Yuen, John A. Buswell, and Iris F. F. Benzie, “Chapter 9: Ganoderma lucidum (Lingzhi or Reishi), a Medicinal Mushroom.” This is an extract from the 2nd (2011) edition of Herbal Medicine: Biomolecular and Clinical Aspects.

Lama Zopa Rinpoche, Offering Water Charity to the Pretas: Including the Daily Practice of Water Offering to Dzambhala, FPMT (Portland OR 2006), a booklet in 53 pages. 

+  +  +

Some Tibetan-language Manuscripts on the White Old Man

Rgan-po Dkar-po Bsangs, ‘Incense Offerings for the White Old Man.’  A 3-folio text, author given as Blo-bzang-bstan-'dzin ming-can.  TBRC no. W1NLM61. 

Rgan-po Dkar-po-la Mchod-gtor Bsangs G.yang.  An 11-folio ms.  It seems to bear the title Rgan-po Dkar-po Mdo [see the final line of fol. 11 verso], and it is immediately followed by interesting text we list next. TBRC no. W1NLM2000. 

Sa [dang] Chu'i 'Dul-bar Gnon-par Nus Mdo, ‘Sūtra of Power to Subjugate, to Tame, Earth and Water.’ It supplies titles in Chinese and Mongolian as well as Tibetan, and on its 2nd folio it supplies an iconography of the White Old Man.  It has all the marks of being a scriptural sūtra, although it is surely not of Indian origins, but locally produced, and for that reason of extraordinary interest. TBRC no. W1NLM2000. I found another version of it with a variant title in TBRC no. W1NLM1842: Sa dang Chu’i Bdal-bar Gnon-par Nus-pa’i Mdo, which I am tempted to translate, very tentatively, as Sūtra on the Power to Prevent Earth and Water from Exceeding their Bounds (there is a lot of variance in the Mongolian language titles and in the ways they have been Englished in the literature).  

Rgan-pa [D]kar-po [G]sol-mchod [note the subscribed Dkris, perhaps abbreviation for Bkra-shis]. A 7-folio ms. The colophon says it was written by Tho-go-rtse Tho-tho [clarified in a note as meaning Tho-go-co Khu-thug-tho] at the urging of the layperson (U-pa-shi) Sangs-rgyas-shes-rab.  TBRC no. W1NLM1590.  

Rgan-po Dkar-po’i Gsol-mchod. The folios are unnumbered, but you can see near the end that its composition is attributed to Padma-’byung-gnas, or Padmasambhava. Contained in TBRC no. W1NLM3102.  

Rgan-po Dkar-po’i Gsol-mchod Byas-tshul [=Bya-tshul]. A 9-folio ms.  Its colophon simply attributes it to Padma-’byung-gnas, or Padmasambhava. Contained in TBRC no. W1NLM2308.

 

To this list we ought to add

Srid-pa’i Pha-wang Lha-’bod Lha-’bod Lha Mi Bar-gyi Phrin Gyer, “A Divine Invocation for the Bat of Existence (Life/Evolution): A Chant Message between the Divine and Human,” contained in the scanned volume with the cover title Bsang-brngan Yid-bzhin-nor-bu sogs, pp. 159-174.  TBRC no. W4CZ332272.  I do find a Pha-wang Lha-’bod, “A Divine Invocation for the Bat,” text listed in a Bon scriptural canon catalog, actually twice, once accompanied by a text called Pha-wang-gi Zhu-ba, “The Questions of the Bat.” Inspired by Toni Huber’s monumental book, I thought I would write up a tiny web-log about these texts, but now I’m thinking someone just like you might be interested in working on them.

§  §  §

I’ve merely touched on the subject here, so I recommend a look back at “Star Water,” an earlier Tibeto-logic blog posted on September 15, 2017, where the Sage Agastya and connections to the Canopus star may become brighter than they are at the moment. Canopus is even entangled with Tibetan swimming festivals, as you’ll see. For more in-depth on the Agastya connection, see Baumann’s 2019 & 2020; Roberts’ 2010.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City has an interesting page with beautiful artworks devoted to Chinese longevity symbols.

This blog and the one that came before it represents a blog-ified version of a paper with powerpoint given recently at a small conference entitled “Tibet & the Oirats — Oirat Cultural Legacy and the Earliest History of Tibetan and Mongolian Studies,” held on 14–15 November 2022. 

One last thing

Did Tibetans of early times know anything at all about a Peach Blossom Grotto that was supposed to lie at the northernmost edge of their plateau according to Chinese literature? I had my strong doubts, but no definite idea how to answer this question, so I did some creative searching in BDRC’s database. Unfortunately, all I could come up with is a 2006 publication from the PRC that gives to it a Tibetan name: “Thar-ldan Kham-bu ’Byung Tshal.”* I suppose what is interesting about this source is that it makes a direct comparison with Sems-kyi Nyi-zla (‘Mental Sun-Moon’?). I know that may not ring a bell, but that’s the fake back-translation (or rather phonetic transcription!?) into Tibetan of Shangri-la (as it is pronounced in modern Chinese) that was then used to justify choosing where Shangri-la as tourist destination would from then on be found. For that exceedingly weird story, see that 2016 Tibeto-logic blog entitled “Signs of Shangri-la.” Are we even surprised that Wikipedia-wallahs were totally suckered into the rabbit hole? They may never find their way out, and meanwhile human history may never recover from the altered time line unless... Look here.

(*I thought to unpack this translation: Clearly Kham-bu is the Tibetan word for “peach,” and 'Byung indicates “origin,” so “peach origin.” But Tshal means “Grove.” Did the translator choose a Tibetan word meaning “grove” for the Chinese term we translate into English as “grotto”? A grove is not a grotto... Oh, and Thar-ldan means “Having Freedom,” right?)