Even the Buddha Was Just an Imperfect Ordinary Person
The Buddha was just an imperfect ordinary person. To say this among devout Buddhist believers would be to court universal condemnation. But I don't mind; I am not a devout Buddhist, only a student of Buddhism who likes the Buddha's thought.
In this world, everyone, ourselves included, is an imperfect ordinary person. Although some arrogantly believe that they are not ordinary, or that some saint they worship is not ordinary, that person is still just an ordinary person, and the so-called saint they worship is still ordinary too.
In this vast world there is no such thing as "supreme, perfect enlightenment," no such thing as a god, no such thing as an ultimate truth that has solved all human problems, no supreme and sole-venerable sage. I once read a few books, walked in the footsteps of sages, and arrogantly thought myself a little superior to others; but as I approached forty I realized that this arrogance was laughable.
The world has no inherent hierarchy of noble and base; only worldviews, values, and outlooks on life differ. If I dislike someone and choose not to associate with them, I simply don't; there is no need to feel that this person is beneath us. As long as others do not break the law or harm anyone, I now do not interfere or dictate to them. But if I do see the actions of certain people or groups intentionally or unintentionally harming others, I will, according to my ability, step in to stop it. Sometimes gentle persuasion fails, and I may even resort to force. If, while doing business, I see in someone's character factors I cannot accept, I will keep my distance and not cooperate with them, but I will not harm them when they have not harmed others.
I myself used to err constantly, still err often, and believe I will go on erring. How can such a person possibly be perfect? Many of the teachings I have learned, if used only on myself, may not cause great problems—at most they lead me astray for a while, and hardly harm others. But if applied to dealing with people or governing society, any of them, on careful scrutiny or practical testing, reveals more or less various problems.
The Buddha's doctrine has some defects; some of the Buddha's own ideas are problematic, and his conduct throughout his life cannot be said to be without moral lapses. The Buddha's cousin Devadatta, merely because he differed in views from the Buddha, was also ostracized by the Buddha. After Devadatta left the sangha with his followers, the Buddha even told his disciples to go to important cities such as Shravasti and spread word of Devadatta's faults everywhere. This exclusion of dissent runs counter to the compassion the Buddha preached. Nor is this an isolated case: the great Tang-dynasty master Xuanzang, regarded as one of the greatest figures in Chinese Buddhism, likewise used his relationship with Emperor Taizong to suppress another Buddhist master he disliked—the Indian master Nati.
But these minor points do not detract from the Buddha's overall lifelong cultivation. Moreover, the Buddha did not, as the scriptures record, attain enlightenment all at once. In his thirties his thought did indeed approach maturity, but over the ensuing forty-plus years of teaching disciples, the Buddha himself was constantly reflecting on himself, right up to his final moments.
The Buddhist sutras contain many self-contradictions, and Buddhists like to explain them away with various sophistry. But I myself prefer to think that these contradictions actually exist and are the true record of the Buddha's lifelong effort to improve and perfect himself. The Buddha was not a flawless god; he was a person who spent his whole life constantly learning and reflecting.
Like the Buddha, Confucius, Laozi, Zhuangzi, Mozi, Jesus, Muhammad, Einstein, and indeed all sages and great people make mistakes, and their theories are not flawless. Perhaps their IQs are indeed a little higher than ordinary people's and they think a little more deeply, but each of them inevitably has the self-limitations humanity finds hard to overcome. Their thoughts all have flaws.
Personally, I believe the best way for a person to break through these limitations is to admit one's own lowliness, view oneself and one's beliefs objectively and rationally, and minimize the harm to oneself, one's family, and society caused by personal and dogmatic prejudice.
Because I have gradually come to recognize my own lowliness, my conduct at home has become more and more tolerant, democratic, and open, and more accepting of my family's opinions. This transformation has greatly improved my family life. Because my happiness derives mainly from my family, this shift has directly raised the happiness index of my family and myself.
I now recommend this realization to others; if it produces the same effect in them, I will be very happy.