And in fact, Hsi Lai—pronounced she lye, which translates to “Coming West”—does hold a large Chinese New Year’s celebration, but with my ears still ringing slightly from last year’s festivities, I thought I’d play it safe and wait for a quieter day, especially since parking’s a bit limited. And crowded further by these statues of mini-monks demonstrating their calisthenics and inviting the visitor to join in.
I’ll spare you those photos. Rabbit anatomy makes some things...awkward.
Anyway, the temple, which opened in 1988, sits on a fifteen-acre lot in the shape of a bodhi leaf and is one of the largest Buddhist monasteries in the Western Hemisphere. As an American branch of the Fo Guang Shan order, it’s dedicated to spreading Humanistic Buddhism, which seeks to unify the teachings of the eight Mahāyāna schools in China with a particular emphasis on service and outreach that’s codified in its mottoes:
Give confidence to others.
Give hope to others.
Give joy to others.
Make things convenient for others.
Sounds welcoming. Let’s see what lies beyond the big gateway, shall we?
Hsi Lai is as much a cultural center as a working monastery, with classrooms, an art gallery, an auditorium, and a dining hall to accommodate the community events and conferences it hosts, but since I’m here specifically for the temple, let’s go straight to the main entrance in the Bodhisattva Hall. The architecture is a blend of Ming and Qing styles, with the outer shrine commanded by statues of several bodhisattvas—beings who’ve attained enlightenment and transcended mortal suffering through love and compassion—and further embellished with the text from the Diamond Sutra in gilded characters up and down the walls. A cheat sheet for supplicants right in plain sight—nice!
Outside the shrine, some people stopped to light an incense stick under the watchful gaze of deified general Guan Yu, AKA Chien Lan Bodhisattva. I followed suit, as a personal homage to the people we’ve lost in the last year. I didn’t linger long since smoke in the fur is a bad thing, but at my size it’s still an easier gesture of remembrance than pouring out a 40.
And then beyond the main entrance is this statue of Venerable Master Hsing Yun, founder of both Hsi Lai and—way back in 1967—the Fo Guang Shan order as a whole. Seemed a good time to pay my respects, as not only did he make this place happen, he’s recovering from a stroke he suffered this last December. A Buddhist master isn’t above accepting the well-wishes of a rabbit, right?
Outside of the shrines themselves, the most striking parts of the temple’s public areas are the two enclosed gardens set just off of the central courtyard. On one side is the Arhat Garden, populated with statues of Buddha’s first eighteen disciples. Gotta love the rabbits that hang out with them, but the geographically incongruous pink flamingos must be a reference to Buddhism’s roots in India rather than China. Or maybe the Arhats have a double-wide out back. I suppose it could be both.
Also, if you look closely at the rose-covered arch on the right side, you’ll see a small bell hanging from the center. The goal is to hit it with coins: One hit brings you good merit; the second earns you wisdom; the third means your wish comes true. I didn’t do so hot—not a single hit—but it’s hard to do when Rob only had 39 cents on him. Stellar planning, Rob; now go find a change machine.
Forty dollars in
But the headliner is, of course, the Main Shrine. By the time we finished with the guided tour and had a little lesson in basic meditation—it’s all in the breathing—the clouds had blown off, so here it is without my big head obstructing the view. See that circle up on the left side of the colonnade, just above the white railing and to the right of the flag?
That would be the ginormous temple drum, suspended from the ceiling like a massive ōdaiko. And then at the opposite end is...
...the equally large temple bell. Apparently, both are loud enough to resonate into the valley below, but luckily for this rabbit’s ears, they’re not generally used because of the residential areas directly beneath the monastery. Lucky me!
Also in front of the Main Shrine is this giant censer, giving people another opportunity to light a stick of incense before heading inside. Good thing I stopped to do one out front—I don’t see a stepladder, and I can’t imagine that nun over there would look kindly on my grappling hook.
Sadly, they don’t allow visitors to take photos inside the Main Shrine, so I’ll try to describe it as best as I can. It’s a huge single room about two stories high, with rows of floor cushions for worshipers and walls that are set with more than 10,000 small alcoves, each measuring only a few inches and holding a miniature Buddha statue within. But the stunning centerpieces of the shrine are the Triple Precious Buddhas, three bigger-than-life statues of the Buddhist triad housed in alcoves that are studded with more tiny Buddhas and flanked by a pair of large illuminated stupas with still more miniat...
Okay, you know what? I went to the gift shop and found a workaround. It looks like this.
Back outside, we took a stroll along the upper level, watching the devotees making their rounds and finding more monk statues, including this one that appears to be reading a sutra to a hare and a tortoise. Points for trying, little guy, but I don’t know if even Buddha himself could put an end to the age-old racial strife between my people and the accursed shellbacks.
Then at the far end of the upper level, we paused to take in the view of the city below. For a moment, looking over the temple rooftops almost made me believe I actually was in China, especially since China has McDonald’s and Starbucks too. But then I noticed the TV dish on a lower level, and that brought me back to reality. Why would people here need basic cable? Well, I suppose Real Housewives would remind anyone of his ascetic vows.
I kid, of course. The Buddhists I know are more into Breaking Bad.
But now with the sun setting and our restaurant reservations on the horizon, it was time to head out, though first we made sure to spoil our dinner with some hong dou bing cakes, made to order right on the griddle downstairs. Three custard-filleds to go, please!
And as Rob and I exited the Bodhisattva Hall, I dropped a dollar in the kitty for some “dharma words”: “Consideration of others enlarges your world. Detachment from desires enhances your spirit.” Huh. How will I become a bunnisattva if that doesn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know?
Oh well, I’d be a poor Buddhist anyway—I like having stuff too much to renounce any of it, so the only nirvana I’ll be attaining is Nevermind. Better luck next incarnation?
