February brings the Lunar New Year, marking a time when we can finally celebrate the new year worldwide. Once again, Happy New Year!
This year is the Year of the Snake. Do you like snakes? Personally, I must admit that snakes are not my favorite creatures. I wonder if many of us instinctively feel fear or unease about snakes. According to a research team at a university in Japan, this fear is deeply ingrained in our instincts. They found that it dates back 65 million years to our primate ancestors, who lived in trees and faced snakes as their primary predators.
In their experiments, they showed that even three- or four-year-old children, who had never seen a snake before, could quickly spot a snake in a set of various pictures, suggesting an innate response. At that time, while eagles, hawks, and big cats could also prey on tree-dwelling primates, only snakes could stealthily approach dense branches over 99 feet above the ground. This required our ancestors to develop a heightened ability to detect and react to snakes quickly. It’s believed that our brains evolved to have regions that are particularly sensitive to snakes, allowing us to feel fear and respond instinctively.
Isn’t it fascinating? Without being taught, we are born with an instinctual fear of snakes.
Speaking of instincts, the Buddha taught that our attachments and desires—our blind passions—are also intrinsic to us. Interestingly, in Buddhism, snakes are sometimes used as symbols of evil or delusion because of their venom. Shinran Shonin even lamented in his writings that his own heart was like that of a snake or a scorpion. Without being taught, we naturally view the world from our self-centered perspective (ignorance), become angry when things don’t go our way (anger), and endlessly desire things that suit our convenience (greed). These attachments and desires aren’t external forces; they exist within us—they are who we are.
Shinran Shonin described these blind passions as unceasing, persisting until the very moment of death. When I look into my own heart, I see it filled with things I wouldn’t want anyone else to know—jealousy, anger, envy—frightening emotions that can arise unexpectedly and cause harm. Even when I try to suppress or correct them, everything I do is inevitably tainted by these desires and attachments.
However, in Buddhism, while snakes symbolize delusion, they also represent enlightenment. This dual symbolism captures a profound aspect of Jōdo Shinshū: we are embraced by the Pure Land as we are, with all our attachments and desires. That I, burdened with lamentable blind passions, can be liberated just as I am means that the Buddha’s enlightenment is not hindered by the depth or weight of my blind passions. This signifies the immense strength of the Buddha’s Vow and the great compassion that works upon me. Like a snake shedding its skin, we are transformed into enlightened beings through the wisdom and compassion of Amida Buddha.
In Jōdo Shinshū, the ultimate promise is that every one of us, regardless of our struggles or imperfections, is led beyond suffering to the unsurpassed enlightenment of Buddhahood. Though we may carry the “heart of a snake” as long as we live, Amida Buddha does not despise or abandon us. Instead, we are cherished just as we are, embraced as the object of the Buddha’s compassion. This Buddha does not remain distant but is with us, right in the midst of our attachments and desires, as Namo Amida Butsu, always accompanying us.
Let us cherish the opportunity this year to deeply listen to the teaching that reveals, through the Buddha’s wisdom, the “heart of a snake” within ourselves, admonishing us, while also embracing us with warm and unwavering compassion that never abandons us.