The Teachings of Confucianism

In this chapter, the term Confucianism is used with reluctance. The Chinese refer to this tradition as the “Teachings of the Ru” (scholars and ritualists), whose function in the Zhou Dynasty will be discussed later in the History section of this chapter.

The Analects of Confucius

Confucius inherited the entire package of ancient Chinese religious views discussed in the preceding pages. This is made clear in the single most important work that contains his main teaching, the Lunyu. Literally meaning “comments and sayings” but customarily translated as the Analects, this text is believed to have been compiled by Confucius’s leading disciples after his death. It serves as a record of statements he had made, exchanges with students he had conducted, and even remarks some of the students had offered. As such, it is an authoritative source for the examination of Confucius’s teaching. Despite the possibility of later interpolations and the apparent lack of organization, the extant twenty “Books” of the Analects, taken as a whole, reflect a coherent picture of Confucius’s major concerns and aspirations. A careful analysis of the content of the Analects shows that, while accepting many of the preexisting cosmological notions and religious beliefs of ancient China, Confucius and his immediate followers offered many new insights and creative interpretations regarding them.

The Primacy of Tian Confucius lived during the last centuries of the Zhou regime, which was a period of unmistakable dynastic decline. The possible revocation and transfer of Tianming was undoubtedly a pressing issue for the elite members of society. What Confucius takes up in the Analects is a fresh and innovative understanding of Tian, Tianming, and their relationship to humans, especially the moral elite.

The Tian of early Zhou, as we have seen, was an august and aloof divine power whose interaction with human beings was largely confined to the ruler, who alone could be in direct contact with it. By contrast, the Tian of Confucius was a far more intimate religious and ethical entity. It had a conscious will that no longer reached out to the Zhou rulers and the various feudal lords (as it had done in the past), but to moral and noble men of diverse backgrounds so that they might revive a moral order that once existed. Confucius saw himself, and encouraged his followers to become, a member of this moral vanguard.

Tian’s communication with the moral elite is not verbal or revelatory. Unlike the biblical God or the Qur’anic Allah, Tian silently manifests itself in the course of the seasons and in the records of human events to allow perceptive individuals to detect the full content of its command. Once the individual moral person firmly understands that imperative, he becomes the new recipient of the ming of Tian. He is now an obedient messenger through whom Tian’s moral injunctions will be spread, resulting, hopefully, in a general uplifting of society. Various passages in the Analects attest to this faith in the primacy of Tian in Confucius’s life and teachings. The following are particularly illustrative.

Tian in the Analects

A border official from the town of Yi requested an audience with the Master....

When Huan Tui, the Minister of War of the principality of Song, tried to kill Confucius (who was visiting), Confucius exclaimed, “It is Tian who has endowed me with virtue. What harm can Huan Tui do to me?”

—Analects 7:23

When under siege in the principality of Kuang, the Master declared, “With King Wen (founder of Zhou Dynasty) dead, does not civilization rest now on me? If Tian intends to have civilization destroyed, those who come after me will have nothing. But if Tian does not intend to have civilization destroyed, then what can the men of Kuang do to me?”

—Analects 9:5

The Master lamented, “Alas, there is no one who understands me.” Zigong said, “How is it that no one understands you?” The Master continued, “I do not complain against Tian, nor do I blame my fellow men. I study what is mundane to reach what is transcendent. If there is anyone who understands me, it is Tian!”

—Analects 14:35

What these passages show collectively is the centrality of Tian in Confucius’s thinking. Tian is clearly the highest religious authority, as well as ultimate reality, in the Analects. The Analects suggests a conscious Tian who “intends” human beings to have civilization in the form of a perfect order. To that end, it reaches out to a few noble individuals. This is Tian’s mandate or imperative {ming). For Confucius, Tianming is no longer a bestowal of dynastic power to the political rulers but instead a call to moral action to the spiritual elite.

Some scholars of Confucian studies have noted a “prophetic voice” in Confucius and his followers. To be sure, unlike Moses or Muhammad, Confucius did not see himself as the messenger of a personal God. Nevertheless, he criticized the authorities of his time and condemned their departure from the normative ideal on behalf of Tian.

The Content of Tian’s Imperative—The Dao

Just what is this message that Tian seeks to convey through the spiritual elite? It is the Dao, the Way. Confucius often complains in the Analects that the “Dao is not in practice” {Analects 5:7), or the “Dao does not prevail in the world” {Analects 16:2). What he means by the Dao is the entire normative social-political-ethical order with the prescriptions for proper ritual behavior publicly, as well as moral rectitude privately. However, when men in power are incapable or unwilling to uphold this order, as was the case during Confucius’s time, men of virtue and uprightness must take it upon themselves to uphold and safeguard this ideal, or civilization will be doomed. It is for this reason that Confucius regards the search for and embodiment of the Dao to be the ultimate, paramount task in his life. He proclaims: “If I can hear the Dao in the morning, I will die contented that evening!” {Analects 4:8).

How is the Confucian Tian different from the Judaic Yahweh, the Christian God, and the Islamic Allah?

As Dao represents the entire normative human order, Confucius focuses on certain key aspects for detailed discussion: ren and li.

Ren

Perhaps the single most important article of faith held by Confucius is ren (benevolence, humaneness, virtue)—the kernel of humanity that exists intrinsically in all human beings. Mentioned more than 100 times in the Analects (far more than any other term), it is described as the germ of moral consciousness present in all human beings that enables them to form a perfect human order. Etymologically, it points to the interrelatedness among humans, for in writing it is a combination of the character for person (A) and the character for the number two (~), signaling that it is in a “state of person-to-person” that ren ((Z) can be enacted. Throughout the Analects, the importance of ren in Confucius’s teaching is evident. Many of his leading disciples ask him about it, and he gives various answers to drive home the idea that ren is all-rounded and multifaceted. Indeed, ren is so fundamental a concept that Confucius allows the giving up of one’s life in order to preserve it (Analects 15:9), implying that a life without ren is meaningless.

All people are born with ren, but only those who can preserve and develop their ren can be entrusted to carry out the imperative of Tian. “When the root is firmly established, the Dao will grow. Filial piety and brotherly deference, are they not the basis of ren?” (Analects 1:2). It is the cultivation and nurturing of this root of moral propensity within the familial setting that starts the process for the actualization of the Dao. Note that Confucius here is not asserting the perfection of all human beings. Rather, he is advocating their perfectibility through self­effort. This inner moral disposition needs to be expanded and developed before it can result in the full implementation of the Dao. What is remarkable about this view is the belief that this moral potentiality is not a monopoly of either the political elite or those of noble birth, but is in fact possessed by all humans. This universal accessibility makes it possible for someone like Confucius to teach others how to achieve ren and how to become men of virtue themselves.

Furthermore, this goodness is exemplified by filial piety (xiao) and brotherly deference, as well as by a sense of dutifulness (zhong) and reciprocity (shu). Filial piety stresses one’s indebtedness to the family elders and to the parents, and brotherly deference acknowledges the mutual obligations among siblings. Thus, it is within the family that humans first practice their moral cultivation. Outside the family, one should exert one’s utmost effort in interacting with others in society. This effort arises from one’s sense of dutifulness and “not doing unto others what one does not want done unto oneself’ (Analects 15:24), which is the height of reciprocity. Ren is thus the entire human moral repertoire, which, when developed and enacted, will produce harmony in the human world and in the relationship that humans maintain with Tian.

Li

Ren alone, however, is not enough to enable one to preserve the Dao. This inner potentiality for goodness and benevolence has to be manifested by an external performance of prescribed behavior within the family, the community, the entire human society, and the spiritual world beyond. This is referred to as li (rites, rituals, normative behavior) in the Analects, a word that in ancient China meant only the sacrificial and behavioral rituals of the kings and the nobles. The ideograph for li shows a sacred ritual vessel, indicating that the etymological origin of the word has something to do with sacrifice to the gods or the ancestors (y^). In Confucius’s understanding of the term, li encompasses the entirety of proper human conduct vis-à-vis other human beings, dead ancestors, and the spirits. Li cultivates a learned pattern of behavior that, when combined with the moral propensity present in each individual, will produce a magical transformation in interhuman relationships, as well as in relations with the spirits. Once a ritual gesture is initiated in the proper ceremonial context and performed with grace and sincerity, goodwill, trust, and harmony will follow. This is the irresistible and invisible power of ritual itself.

The Analects is most optimistic about the efficacy of li. In a famous response to his favorite student’s question about ren, Confucius states: “Restraining oneself and returning to li, this is ren” (Analects 12:1). Only through ritualized interaction with others and with the spirits can one realize one’s full potential as a human being. The mastery and performance of li, then, is in fact a “process of humanization.”-Lz is the external enactment of ren. Conversely, ren is the inner source of li. This is why Confucius asks rhetorically: “A man who is not ren, what has he to do with Zi?” (Analects 3:3).

Junzi

Confucius uses the term junzi (the noble man, the man of virtue, and the superior man) for the noble ru on whose shoulders rests the burden of reviving and preserving the Dao. This is Confucius at his most creative and radical in the usage of traditional terminology. Originally used to refer to the scions of feudal rulers, junzi in Confucius’s refashioning comes to mean men of moral rectitude. From someone highborn, junzi becomes for Confucius someone high- minded. From those of noble birth, junzi now means those of noble worth. They are the prophet-like individuals who, though holding no political office or having no privileged positions, nevertheless receive Tian’s call. They undertake the most arduous task of implementing Tian’s Dao in the human world. The Analects puts the issue most plainly: “Without knowing the imperative of Tian (Tianming), one cannot be a junzi” (20:3).

The self-cultivation of the junzi will earn them a power (de) similar to that possessed by the ancient sage rulers. It is a charismatic, noncoercive, potent influence that both inspires and persuades, and coaxes and shames, people into doing what is right. In the Analects, Confucius confidently declares: “The de of the junzi is like wind, while that of the common people is like grass. When the wind blows over the grass, the grass cannot help but bend in the direction of the wind” (Analects 12:19). The epitome of the junzi is the sage (shengren or simply sheng M=), the rarest of human beings who are perfect in their moral standing and kingly in their worldly accomplishments. The traditional Chinese character for sage contains three components: ear, mouth, and ruler (If, ?, ZE). The sage is someone who hears or listens to the Way of Tian, conveys it to others through the mouth, and acts in the capacity of the ancient ruler whose job it is to link up the three realms of Heaven, Earth, and Humankind. Thus the sage is decidedly a religious figure, a saintly person who is at once a messenger of Tian to the human world and an exemplar of human perfection in the eyes of Tian.

The Religious Vision of the Analects

Taken as a whole, the vision of the Analects offers an amazingly clear picture of Confucius’s religious concern, in the sense that it is ultimately a discourse on the “transcendent,” as Professor Bruce Lincoln has designated as one domain of religion (see Chapter 1 in this volume). It has been justly pointed out that, unlike many other religious figures, Confucius envisaged no escape from the world and human society, nor did he insist on ascetic self-denial as a precondition for spiritual progress. Moreover, Confucius did not consider concern with the afterlife or with the spirits to be of primary importance. The following exchange between him and his student Zilu on that subject is famous: “Zilu asked about serving ghosts and spirits. The Master said, ‘When we are not yet able to serve fellow humans, why worry about serving the ghosts and spirits?’ ‘What about death?’ [Zilu persisted]. ‘When we do not yet know enough about life, why woriy about death?’ [the Master replied]” (Analects 11:12).

In summary, then, you have been shown that Confucius has an abiding faith in the transcendent ultimate Tian. He feels an intimate relationship with it. He has a keen awareness of its command (ming) given to the moral and spiritual elites (junzi) to create the ideal human order (Dao). He firmly believes in the Tian-endowed human capacity for perfection and genuine humanity (ren) through self-cultivation, and enthusiastically participates in sacrificial rituals and familial and social rites (li). These are all components of his religious outlook. To be sure, this religiosity does not express itself in faith in a personal God and the need for salvation through divine grace. Rather, it distinguishes itself as a form of “this-worldly transcendentalism.” It treats the “secular as sacred,”³ and it imparts deeply religious meaning to participation in the mundane. Thus, it expresses a different mode of religiousness. For this reason, it has been paradoxically labeled a “humanistic religion” and a “religious humanism.”-⁴ To be truly human is to be ultimately divine.

Admittedly, this religiousness of the Confucian Analects has been largely overshadowed by its familial, social, and political messages throughout the course of Chinese imperial history, so much so that Confucianism as a religion is not readily recognized. However, the discussion that follows should further confirm the intrinsic religiosity of the Confucian tradition as it unfolded.

The Mencius

Mencius (a Latinized rendition of “Master Meng,” whose full name was Meng Ke, 371-289 âñå?) was born a full century after Confucius’s death. Claiming to be the rightful successor to Confucius, Mencius reaffirmed moral cultivation as a religious calling. He provided the moral elite with a strong sense of mission. Mencius also made one lasting contribution to the Confucian belief system with his insistence on the basic goodness of human beings, thus upholding Confucianism’s optimistic view of human perfectibility.

Next to the Analects, the Mencius (an eponymous work compiled by some of Mencius’s leading disciples) is significant as a Confucian scriptural text. Unlike Confucius, who does not regard himself as a sage—a title he reserves only for the few legendary rulers in ancient China —Mencius not only boldly declares his predecessor’s sagehood but also insists on his own. Indeed, he considers every human being a potential sage, as he believes that each possesses all the innate qualities to become one. It is on the basis of that assumption that he asserts the intrinsic goodness of human nature, which he compares to the natural tendency of water to flow downward (Mencius 6A, 2:2). This is Mencius’s fundamental article of faith.

Identifying four “sprouts of morality” in all humans—the inborn sentiments of commiseration (inability to bear witness to the suffering of others), shame, deference and yielding, and the sense of right and wrong—Mencius proclaims them to be the roots of benevolence (reri), righteousness (yi), propriety (Zi), and wisdom (zhi), respectively. With this belief as his religious premise, he constructs a logical progression from moral cultivation to the ultimate attainment of divine spirituality. He states,

That which is sought after is called “good.” To have it in oneself is called “true.” To possess it fully is called “beautiful,” while making it shine forth with brilliance is called “great.” To be great and be able to transform others is called “sage.” To be sage and be beyond understanding by others is called “spiritually divine.” (Mencius 7B, 25)

Through our moral progress, Mencius suggests, we can become not only good, true, beautiful, and great, but also sagely and ultimately divine. With utter conviction, then, he maintains, “Probing one’s heart/mind to the utmost, one will know one’s nature. Knowing one’s nature, one will know Tian. To preserve one’s heart/mind and nurture one’s nature is to put one in the service of Tian” (Mencius 7A, 1:1). Once one has embodied the moral imperatives of Tian, Mencius reasons, one will find all other concerns secondary. In one of his most celebrated statements, Mencius declares: “I like fish, and I also like bear’s paw. If I cannot have both, I will give up fish and keep the bear’s paw. Life is what I desire, but so is righteousness. If I cannot have both, I will give up life but cling to righteousness” (Mencius 6A, 10:1). With morality as his ultimate concern, Mencius is willing to sacrifice his own life in order to preserve it. This is certainly reminiscent of Confucius’s commitment to benevolence (ren), for the preservation of which he, too, is willing to suffer death. It is clear here that Mencius puts righteousness (yi) on an equal footing with benevolence (ren)—his major contribution to the Confucian discourse. It exhibits a spirit of the martyr and a deeply held religious sentiment.

The Great Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean

The remaining two texts of the Four Books, completing the Confucian religious corpus designated by the Neo-Confucian scholar Zhu Xi in the twelfth century (see the section on the history of Confucianism later in this chapter), are the Great Learning and the Doctrine of the Mean, supposedly compiled by two of Confucius’s prominent students. Both are chapters from the Book of Rites that have been excerpted as independent texts because of their religious significance. The Great Learning refers to learning about what is of primary importance. It prescribes a practical step-by-step roadmap for self-cultivation, starting with individual inquiries and ending with the transformation of humanity as a whole. Listing eight steps in personal cultivation, the Great Learning outlines a sequence of individual and social effort made to manifest “illustrious virtue,” “love the people,” and reach the “ultimate good,” which is nothing short of the Tran-ordained perfect world order. Thus, learning involves far more than the acquisition of knowledge, but is actually an ethical-religious program of personal and societal perfection.

The Doctrine of the Mean begins with a bold declaration: “What Tian has ordained is called human nature. Following this nature is called the Dao. Cultivating the Dao is called teaching” (Doctrine of the Mean 1:1). These three statements articulate the fundamental Confucian articles of faith, representing what Confucianism regards as self-evidently true. The text asserts that humans are born with a benign nature imparted by Tian, the ultimate religious authority. This nature provides them with the inner strength to reach their fullest potential as perfect beings. Furthermore, when extended beyond the individual, this human nature can bring about an ideal social-political-ethical order, the actualization of which is the purpose of education. The text further maintains that the real possibility for achieving perfect goodness exists because of the special relationship between human beings and Tian. There is a logical progression from self-generating moral effort to the perfection of the faithful and the world around them: “The junzi [noble person] cannot avoid not cultivating his person. Thinking of cultivating his person, he cannot neglect serving his parents. Thinking of serving his parents, he may not avoid knowing other humans. Thinking of knowing other humans, he cannot ignore knowledge of Tian” (Doctrine of the Mean 20:7). It is clear that to actualize their genuine humanity and divine potential, human beings must fully engage with others.

There are five cardinal human relations for such interaction: three within the family and two outside of the family: that between father and son, husband and wife, elder and younger brothers, ruler and subject, and friends. All these relations obligate individuals to perform their respective roles in society. In other words, the father has to be kind, while the son is respectful; the husband has to be caring, while the wife is submissive; brothers need to be mutually deferential; the ruler needs to have the people’s welfare in mind, while the subjects need to be obedient; and friends must maintain fidelity toward one another. It is therefore the entire human community that provides the setting for the Confucian religious quest. The Doctrine of the Mean offers a climactic conclusion to the process of self-cultivation:

Only the most authentic and genuine person can fully develop his nature. Able to fully develop his nature, he can then thoroughly understand the nature of other people. Able to fully understand the nature of other people, he can develop the nature of things. Able to fully develop the nature of things, he can assist in the transforming and nourishing process of Tian and Di (earth, counterpart to Tian). When he assists in the transforming and nourishing process of Tian and Di, he forms a trinity with them!

—Doctrine of the Mean 22:1

This euphoric assurance of the final outcome of human moral cultivation is breathtaking in its grandeur. Not only does the person who realizes his own nature to the full become a paradigm of genuine humanity, he actually becomes a “coequal” with Tian and Di through his participation in their nurture and sustenance of the myriad things. Forming a trinity with the ultimate divine entity in the cosmos is the highest accomplishment for any religious seeker in the Confucian mode.

In the preceding paragraphs, we have analyzed the content and religiosity of the Four Books. These four texts neatly annotate the later Neo-Confucian goal of neisheng waiwang—inner moral cultivation and external skillful management of society and state (see the section on the history of Confucianism later in this chapter). This is believed to reflect Confucius’s original vision, namely, to pursue a personal relationship with the ultimate reality through moral improvement, culminating in an ordering of society and state in accordance with the Way ordained by Tian. This religious mission is best expressed by a famous Neo-Confucian scholar by the name of Zhang Zai (1020-1077) who declares his lifelong goals:

To establish the mind of Tian and Di (Earth),

To inculcate an understanding of [Tian’s] command (ming) for the multitudes, To revive and perpetuate the teachings of the sages of the past, [and] To provide peace and stability for all future generations.

This is a succinct summary of a four-point program for spiritual self-actualization and social­political improvement—an inner search for dialog with the divine, an outer effort to benefit society, a backward revisit with the wisdom of past sages, and a forward look to bring about peace and prosperity for future generations. It is an eloquent declaration of both the secular and the sacred aspirations of the Confucian teaching.