Enlightened by Love and Sacrifice: An excerpt from Leaving Buddha

In this excerpt from Leaving Buddha, Tenzin Lahkpa, formerly a Buddhist monk, recalls his first introduction to Jesus the Messiah.

A Christian Family Member

“Tenzin!”

“Yes?” I responded to the unknown voice yelling down the corridor after me.

“There is someone outside looking for you.”

I ended my meditation, stood up, and walked to the door. As I stepped outside, I saw a kind-looking young man, a little older than I, pacing around.

“Tenzin?” he said as soon as he saw me. I nodded.

“I’m Peema. Your uncle told me that you have been looking for us.”

“Ahh…so good to see you. My uncle told me that I had family living here, but I didn’t even know where to start. I was told that your family was living in Dharamsala. I asked around about you, but no one knew where you were.”

“Yes, we used to live in Dharamsala, but we moved to America a year ago.”

“I heard that you are a monk.”

“I used to be, but not anymore.”

I pulled my head back in surprise. “Not anymore? What happened? Did you decide you needed a wife?” I asked jokingly. Marriage was the number-one killer of monastic living.

“Not exactly,” he said a bit sheepishly. “Do you care to take a walk?”

“Sure.”

Peema and I strolled down the side of the mountain from the monastery. There wasn’t really anywhere to walk to, but taking a walk in the shadow of the mountains and away from the listening ears of other monks seemed to be what my relative wanted to do.

“My family is living in America and they really like it a lot. America is nothing like Tibet or India. Everything there is so much better. Everyone has a car, a house, and a mobile phone.”

“How did you get to go to America?” I asked.

“We were invited by a Christian man. Their church sponsored our visa and have helped us.”

“Christian?” I had heard the word before. I knew that it was the religion of Westerners but didn’t know anything about it.

“Yes. There was an American who came to Dharamsala and told us about Jesus. We listened to him, and what he had to say changed our lives forever. We have never been happier, and we are doing better than any generation before us.”

I was shocked at what he was saying. Although I didn’t know much about the religion of the Christians, I did know that Tibetans hated their religion. Even Hindus, who recognize almost every god under the sun, hate Christians.

I had heard about Christians sneaking around like snakes and trying to trick Tibetans to believe their religion. Once you accept their religion, you become their slave and have to do what they tell you to do.

“Did the Americans trick you?” I asked, feeling sorry for him. “Do you need help to escape?”

“What? No! I live in America, not China. You do not need to escape from America. You can leave whenever you like. They do not have guards keeping you in. It is not like China where there are guards making sure that people do not escape. Instead, in America, they have guards trying to keep the people out because so many people want to go there.”

“You mean like India?”

“Not exactly. America is much better than India. I lived in Dharamsala for many years, but I never really felt at home. I was always considered to be a refugee from my homeland of Tibet. The longer I lived in Dharamsala, the more I hated it.”

“Yes, but they give you so many things for free. Isn’t that what everyone wants?”

“Not when the free stuff is barely scraps and there is no avenue to make yourself better. I couldn’t get hired at a better job to provide more money for my family. I couldn’t move us out of Dharamsala on my own. India would never allow me to move to New Delhi and get a job or open a small shop or be the boss of my own business. Then, when the American came around, he told me about Jesus and how Jesus gives us hope for the future. He gave me a book about the life of Jesus, and the stories were unlike anything I had ever read.”

“Peema,” I interrupted. “Do you need my help for something?”

“No. I came here for you, not for me. Your uncle told me that you were here all alone and didn’t know anyone and might need some help. God has put you on my heart. I have been waking up late at night thinking of you and praying for you—even though I have never met you before. I have been thinking about you even in my dreams. I traveled all the way up here in obedience to God.”

“In your dreams?”

“Yes. Dreams were a powerful channel for Jesus to communicate with me before I knew who He was. At first, I thought Jesus was a divine daka who bypassed my physical mind to communicate directly with my spirit through dreams, but He is so much more than that. Jesus brought a light to my life, and He can do the same for you.”

Peema was crossing the line. He was doing something that was extremely dangerous at the monastery. If the other monks knew what he was talking about, they would beat him to a bloody pulp. “I am sorry, Peema. I do not know if I want to hear anymore. I think…I think I must go.”

“Wait. I am staying here tonight. I would like to talk more tomorrow. After tomorrow, I will return to America.”

“I don’t know. I do not think the lamas would appreciate what you are saying.”

“What am I saying?” Peema challenged.

“Look, I do not want to debate you, I just—”

“You do not want to debate me? Are you not Tibetan? I thought debate was how we learned what is true and what is not true.”

I did not respond. I did not want anything bad to happen to Peema, and I knew that his life would be short-lived if the others knew what he was doing.

“Goodbye, Peema.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked.

I didn’t answer him. I just wished him blessings and walked back up to the monastery. I didn’t tell anyone there about my conversation with Peema. I hoped that I would quickly forget about it and that he could go back and live the rest of his life in America.

“More Deadly Than Mara”

After my meeting with Peema, it was hard for me to sleep that night. I went walking through the empty rooms of the meditation chambers. The echo of my feet shuffling across the floor bounced off of the dark walls. I didn’t know anything about Peema’s new religion, but something in me rejected it.

Yet I also felt tormented by my automatic rejection of his new belief. It irritated me to the core and I could not rationalize it in my mind. His words kept coming back to me over and over again: “You do not want to debate me? Are you not Tibetan? I thought debate was how we learned what is true and what is not true.”

“Troubled minds can’t find rest,” came a voice from one of the corners. It was the voice of our visiting monk.

“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was awake.”

“I am still on American time,” he said.

“You live in America?”

“Uhhmmm,” he said with a nod. “I am getting too old for this travel back and forth.”

“More than forty years.”

“Have you ever met any Christians during your time in America?”

Silence.

“Have you ever met any Christians?” he finally responded after a time of pondering my question.

“I have, Teacher. I have met one.”

“What did this Christian say to you?”

“He did not say much. He just told me that the name of their God is Jesus and He can visit us in dreams.”

Again there was silence.

“Did he say anything more about Jesus to you?”

“No.”

“Does that person live here among us?”

“No,” I said, instinctively knowing that I somehow needed to protect Peema’s identity.

“Never speak to the Christians. They will suck the prana, the energy source that flows through all living things, from your soul. In Tibet, prana flows like streams of living water over the mountains and saturates every living being with internal channels of power. Prana is the life force of the body and the wind in the mind found in all living creatures. Prana carries us from origin to our destination. Prana gives us breath from karma to karma. Prana allows us to visit loka in the underworld or obtain the advice of the gods. Those who harness the power of prana are able to levitate, fly, or do other superhuman acts.

“Prana isn’t just a power that gives life—it is the breath of life. It feeds off of our mantras. It grows from our prayers. It has its foundation in the reading aloud of holy texts. As your master, I pass on my prana to you and you pass it on to others, but Christians have a mystical power source that interrupts the flow of prana. Christians take away your power and strip you of your prana. Stay away from them and do not listen to their words.”

“Couldn’t we expose the fallacy with a simple debate?”

The teacher’s head whipped around, and he glared at me. “Do not play with Jesus, boy! He is more deadly than Mara and will keep you from enlightenment. Mara only has the power to trick you out of your prana, but Jesus can take it away. Mara can conquer you with darkness, but Jesus will conquer you with light. Unlike Mara, Jesus can control the life force of your jiva. I have seen it. I have seen the power of those who follow Jesus.”

Chills shivered down my spine at the thought of a force more intimidating than Mara.

“Jesus and his followers destroy the entire order of all that we know,” he continued.

“How?” I asked.

He puffed at me as if my question annoyed him. He seemed a bit miffed that I didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, but I didn’t. I honestly didn’t know how one god—one that I had never heard of—could disrupt the entire order of heaven and earth.

“The loka of the underworld do not trifle with Jesus. We should not even be discussing him. Talking about him gives him power. He disrupts the entire order of all that we know, because he can overpower the loka of the underworld and the gods that lead us to enlightenment. He destroys the Middle Way. Even Yama, the lord of death, leaves him alone, because Jesus would release the spirits from their bondage and turn them loose! If a spirit escapes the bondage of Yama before their time to be released, they can go in between the different realms and wreak havoc on us all.”

I was dumbfounded at what he was telling me.

“If Jesus is so dangerous, Teacher, why have I never heard about him before? Wouldn’t it be better to warn others about his danger so that we can better prepare against him?”

The teacher laughed. “You don’t prevent the spread of a virus by bringing it to your home and evaluating it. You keep it as far from you and your family as possible. And you don’t bring Jesus to your temple to evaluate his dangers! You keep his name as far from your students as possible. You lock him out. Unlike the other gods, Jesus is given power through sharing about him. He is like a deadly virus—by the time you realize how deadly he is, he has already infected everyone in your home.

“Why did you come here?” he asked.

“I came here to find the ultimate dharma—to find enlightenment.”

“If dharma is what you seek, then you must cleanse your mind of everything that you have heard about Jesus. No matter how little of a place you give him, he can use it to destroy everything—just as a virus that you cannot see with your naked eye has the power to destroy the health of a well, strong body.

“Stay away,” he said again with emphasis. “Stay far, far away.”

I bowed in the darkness, acknowledging his command to me.

As I walked away, he added, “Do not tell anyone here about our conversation. You must contain this virus or else….

“Remember, this very temple that gives you shelter was built as a reflection of perfect order,” he said, referring to the name Thiksay, which means “perfect order.” “You will destroy that perfect order for eternity if Jesus is allowed to infect the minds of those who have come here to find enlightenment.”

I bowed again and walked away toward my room, running my fingers over the smooth edges of my prayer beads and praying for strength and wisdom.

I couldn’t help but think of Peema and his words to me. He and his family must have known about the dangers of Jesus. Why had he considered it so important to tell me about something so dangerous? Peema didn’t look like he had been suffering from any pain or spiritual torment. In fact, he looked and acted as if he had a peace and calmness to him.

After I returned to my room, I was still unable to sleep. There were so many questions running through my mind. I wanted to know more about Jesus. I think that my newly found desire to learn more sprang from the fact that I now knew I was not supposed to know anything about him!

My curiosity was itching, and now I wanted nothing more than to scratch it.

PR

Excerpted from Leaving Buddha: A Tibetan Monk’s Encounter with the Living God by Tenzin Lahpka with Eugene Bach, © 2019 by Back to Jerusalem, Inc. Published by Whitaker House. Used by permission.

Further Reading from Leaving Buddha:

Pastor John Lathrop reviews Leaving Buddha.