A narrative conceit of The Simpsons is that no one ever ages, and nothing ever changes—at least from one episode to another. There have been some exceptions, like when the barfly character, Barney, stopped drinking for a while. Or when a few minor and supporting characters died: Dr. Marvin Monroe, Bleeding Gums Murphy, and Maude Flanders. Some would argue that over time Bart has become less bratty and Homer less oafish, but Lisa’s conversion to Buddhism may be the greatest exception to the show’s continuity rule.
Christianity, Judaism, and Hinduism are well represented in The Simpsons, as described in other chapters, and Islam remains virtually invisible. Buddhism is present in the series, but the predominantly Asian faith is a relatively late entry, almost a footnote. There have been scattered references to the religious philosophy, both before and after Lisa’s conversion in 2004, yet almost always as an afterthought or a throwaway image or line of dialogue. For example, in a subsequent episode when Homer and Bart briefly convert to Catholicism, Lisa defends their freedom to choose their faith, citing her decision to become a Buddhist. A visiting Catholic chuckles condescendingly and says, “I guess lots of kids have imaginary friends.”
Often these seemingly random images and lines of dialogue— brief but explicit nods to Buddha and Buddhism—pop up in conjunction with other divine figures, often showing Buddha as a proponent of mercy. In “Left Below,” a Simpsons spoof of the Left Behind novels and movies based on the Apocalypse, a world-ending flood catches a Buddhist monk unawares: “I thought all religions were a path to God—I was wrong!” (Lama Surya Das, who wrote AskTheLama column at Beliefnet.com, observes, “No Buddhist monk in the world would make that statement.”) In another episode, Homer prays, “Jesus, Allah, Buddha, I love you all!” Sideshow Bob, the homicidal television host, suggests that Homer is forgetting “the first two noble truths of the Buddha . . . [:] ‘Existence is suffering’ and ‘The cause of suffering is desire.’” Homer protests that he has not forgotten them.
There’s a Chinese restaurant in Springfield called Bob’s Big Buddha. Buddha himself makes several fleeting physical appearances as well. Trapped in the trunk of a car with lava from the eruption of Mt. Springfield bearing down on her, Lisa utters her own version of Homer’s mantra. Desperate, she prays to “Buddha, Jesus, SpongeBob—there’s no time to be picky!” Buddha, sitting on a cloud with Jesus and SpongeBob SquarePants, the children’s cartoon character, says, “Perhaps we should help.” But SpongeBob replies, “Nah, screw her!” and laughs maniacally.
Similarly, when Homer brings down a wrathful flood on Springfield, Lisa tries to attribute it to various natural phenomena. Bart then asks how to account for the sunshine immediately following Reverend Lovejoy’s prayer. Lisa, momentarily stumped, mutters, “Buddha?” Sure enough, sitting next to God, who is in standard issue attire of flowing white robe and Birkenstocks, is a small, plump Buddha, who once again suggests that the mortals below have suffered enough.
Early in the show’s run, Homer enters his son in a miniature golf tournament against Todd Flanders. Bart is anxious about the upcoming contest, so Lisa offers to help. She starts at the library, where she borrows books on putting but also the Tao Te Ching, by Lao Tzu. The brother and sister go to the woods, where Lisa introduces Bart to the way of Zen. The first steps are easy for her brother: shutting off the logical part of his mind, embracing nothingness, and becoming like an uncarved stone. Atop a mountain— yet another Buddhism cliche—Lisa then tries the classic koans, which are humorous, paradoxical riddles. She asks Bart to imagine the sound of one hand clapping. Bart undermines the paradox by clapping with one hand, slapping his fingers against the base of his palm. Lisa then asks him whether if a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, it makes a sound. Finally, golf club in hand, Bart assumes the “crane” position made famous by the movie The Karate Kid. Nothing works for her brother, so Lisa gives up.
The main representation of Buddhism in The Simpsons deals with Lisa’s flight from Christianity. Her move to Buddhism grows out of her sense that her mainline Protestant church has become spiritually bankrupt—a direct result of it also being nearly financially bankrupt. Bart and Homer launch a huge model rocket that goes off course and hits Springfield Community Church, leaving it a burned-out shell. Reverend Lovejoy convenes a meeting of the church council, where he prays for divine intervention for money to rebuild the structure. Dejected at hearing only silence from above, he declares, “All right, we’ll help ourselves—yet again.” The congregation agrees to a proposal from Mr. Burns and his consultant to “rebrand” the congregation, in exchange for rebuilding.
The rebranding plan for the congregation is ironic, since, like many mainline Protestant churches, the congregation already has an updated brand. For years, church consultants have been saying that congregations with denominational identification no longer attract new, young members. Thus, instead of “Methodist” or “Presbyterian,” new churches prefer to use the more generic word “community” in their names. The best example of this phenomenon is Rick Warren’s Saddleback Community Church in Orange County, California. This megachurch is affiliated with the Southern Baptist Convention, but a new worshiper would be hard put to know that. In the case of the Simpsons’ church, whose worship style is either Presbyterian or Lutheran, the decision to play down the denominational identity was made long ago. Still, Burns’s consultant says, the church is “skewing pious. We prefer a faith-based emporium teeming with impulse buy items”—and, of course, new revenue streams derived from saturation advertising and product placements.
The latest incarnation of Springfield Community Church (alternately known as the First Church of Springfield) features a lighted marquee outside and a huge, Las Vegas–style, neon Jesus waving one arm in welcome and holding a lasso in the other. Inside, the walls are plastered with ads for local businesses, including one for Pep Boys (whose namesakes, Manny, Moe, and Jack, were Jewish). There is even a money-changing kiosk, Jesus’ admonition notwithstanding. The front of Lovejoy’s podium flashes changing promotions, and he manages to work other paid plugs into his sermons. Lisa is unhappy with the changes, which is made plain when she appears on the sanctuary’s new oversized television screen “Godcam” with the caption, “Pouting Thomas.” For her, the last straw is an appearance by the Domino’s Pizza character, the Noid. Lisa accuses Lovejoy of going well beyond his claim to having dressed the church up a little; instead, she believes he has tarted it up like the Whore of Babylon—at the price of its soul. That night at home, Lisa prays by her bed for guidance. “Lord, I’m not turning my back on you,” she says. “I just need to find a temple that is free of corruption.” Marge, who has been eavesdropping from the other side of the bed, is worried that her daughter may lose the family’s only realistic shot at heaven. “I still believe in God,” Lisa assures her. “I just think there’s another path to him—or her.”
After Lisa rejects Bart’s first preference—that she join a religion that eats human hearts—her brother suggests the Methodists. This is the setup for another fast-moving, typically Simpsons joke, what writers of animated comedies call a “one percent gag,” since that is the estimated fraction of viewers likely to pick up on them. Lisa rejects that suggestion with the punch line, “I’m not just going to pick a religion that seems cool.” (No one would ever suggest that being a United Methodist in the current era is cool.) She also ignores Bart’s idea that she choose Judaism because of the bat mitzvah payday when she hits thirteen. (A similar scenario, with a similar outcome, is the cover story of a Simpsons Comics issue called “Money to Burns!” In that version, the congregation is debauched, but it is Flanders who leaves, sampling Judaism, Hinduism, snake handling, and a generic cult before inadvertently stumbling into a Satanist coven.)
Lisa roams the streets of Springfield in search of a new faith, passing signs for Baha’i and Amish houses of worship, as well as one for a Church of Latter-Day Druids. The sequence notwithstanding, most seekers say they convert to a new faith that engages them, rather than from an old one they don’t like. Still, it is not surprising that Lisa is attracted when she comes upon the Springfield Buddhist Temple, announced by the sound of an unseen gong. Inside, she is startled to find Homer’s coworkers Carl and Lenny burning incense and meditating in the lotus position before the statue of a large, bald, big-bellied Buddha. Carl explains, “If I didn’t have inner peace I’d completely go psycho on all you guys all the time.” Lisa explains that she is looking for a new faith, one that isn’t so materialistic. As it happens, the temple is either ecumenical or generic: the building’s architecture is Chinese, but inside there is a Japanese rock garden. And the person raking the sand is the actor Richard Gere, a devotee of Tibetan Buddhism. Hearing what she is searching for, he says that the girl has come to the right place. “Buddhism teaches that suffering is caused by desire,” he explains. When Lenny identifies the speaker as the world’s most famous Buddhist, Gere cringes, suggesting that the title is held by the Dalai Lama. Carl explains to his friend that the Dalai Lama is descended from the Buddha, prompting Lenny to ask who Buddha is. Gere then has an opportunity to goof on his own spirituality. “It’s a good thing Buddhism teaches freedom from desire,” he says, “ ’cause I’ve got the desire to kick your ass.”
Lisa tells Gere that she is hoping that Buddhism can provide her with inner peace, then asks if that is just a pipe dream. The actor replies that we all have dreams; and that his is for a free Tibet—guaranteeing that this episode of The Simpsons will never be broadcast in China. Gere, handing Lisa a pamphlet from his back pocket, then begins a concise explanation of Buddhism. “All things are impermanent,” he says, “and are empty of inherent existence.”
Later that evening, Lisa goes over the pamphlet and, in the process, extends the lessons on the tenets of Buddhism. “Nirvana is achieved through right views and right speech,” she reads aloud. “Positive actions lead to happiness, and negative actions lead to unhappiness. No creator gods—just the pursuit of enlightenment.” Lisa is convinced—and converted. She goes to the window and shouts, “I’m a Buddhist!” Admittedly, the ground has already been well prepared for Lisa’s conversion, predating her disenchantment with her church, since we know from previous episodes that she is already a pacifist and a vegetarian.
Those around Lisa are not so happy for her. Next door, Ned Flanders tells his sons his “Satan sense is tingling,” so he scoops the boys up and heads for the root cellar. At the Simpsons’ dinner table, the reception is equally hostile when Lisa informs them that her spiritual quest is over. Homer assumes this is something she got in an Internet chat room. Marge tells her that Buddhists don’t get desserts in their lunches. At school the next day, bullies needle Bart, telling him they heard his sister “dumped Christianity.” Undeterred, Lisa throws herself into her new religion, even planting a Bodhi tree in her yard in hopes of meditating under it, like the Buddha. When her mother hassles her, the daughter chants her mantra. Lisa’s conversion appears on the agenda of the church council, under the heading of “Marge Simpson’s devil daughter.” Lovejoy and Flanders suggest that, with Christmas coming, Marge leverage the presents issue: tell Lisa that Santa doesn’t leave presents under a Bodhi tree. Marge wonders whether it is ethical to use bribery to bring her daughter back to church. The minister assures her that more souls have been saved by presents like skates and Easy-Bake ovens than with the Bible, which he describes as “this two-thousand-page sleeping pill.”
In the first step in the campaign to win Lisa back, Homer jams a ceramic angel on top of her little Bodhi tree. The girl is not troubled by the addition, until it turns out to be motorized, swinging its arms and singing the barking dogs version of “Jingle Bells.” On Christmas Eve, other family members serenade Lisa as she comes down the stairs and walks into the living room, where the Christmas tree and presents are. Since no one told Santa the girl had become a Buddhist, there is a present for her. Lisa starts to dismiss the ploy, saying she is not ruled by material desires—until she realizes that the present looks a lot like a real pony, heretofore her dearest wish. Torn, she flees to the temple for advice, so distraught that she interrupts Gere, Carl, and Lenny, who are meditating. Lisa apologizes, and the actor says it is all right, despite the fact that he was just about to achieve enlightenment. Gere tells her she shouldn’t be upset at her parents’ attempts to trick her. “Buddhists respect the diversity of other religions, as long as they are based on compassion,” he says. “You can celebrate any holiday.” Go home, he says. “I’m sure your family really misses you.” Or, as the Dalai Lama says, “Contribute to others rather than convert others. Buddhist practices such as meditation can make you, whatever your beliefs, into a better whatever-you-are.”
In fact, the family has missed her, and has been frantically searching the neighborhood. They discover her Christmas morning asleep in the living room, under the Christmas tree. Homer assumes that this means that she is “back on the winning team”— a common way of viewing religious commitment by some believers. Families of converts to new faiths are often upset, fearing that their relatives may be leaving their orbit. But that is not what Lisa intends. She explains that, while still a Buddhist, she wants to celebrate Christmas with her family. “So you’re just going to pay lip service to our church?” Marge asks. Yes, Lisa says. “That’s all I ever asked,” Homer says, putting his imprimatur on the resolution.
In another episode, after Lisa’s conversion, there is a “Free Tibet” rally at Springfield’s Town Hall. As Springfield’s youngest Buddhist, the girl gets to introduce the Dalai Lama, which she does, as the “Elvis of enlightenment . . . a lean, serene, chanting machine.” His Holiness strolls onto the stage, accompanied by a Tibetan horn trio. Then Homer shows up as a masked character, “Pie Man.” Homer has orders from Mr. Burns to hit the Dalai Lama with a pie—“All this talk of peace and love is honking off my Red Chinese masters,” Burns explains—which Homer refuses to do. The Dalai Lama conveys his greetings to “fellow travelers on the road to enlightenment.” Then he levitates and flies out the window to his next engagement—Buffalo. When the episode was first broadcast in Asia on Rupert Murdoch’s Star World channel, the references and images to the Dalai Lama were deleted, to appease either Buddhist viewers or Murdoch’s master in the Chinese government—or both. In another episode, Springfield’s Dalai Lama Expressway has been renamed for Michael Jackson, perhaps for similar reasons.
On a subsequent Christmas, Lisa tells her father that “as a Buddhist I believe people would be a lot happier without presents.” Homer takes her comment to heart, imagining Buddha, a Christmas sweater, and a convertible, which morph into an image of the Buddha wearing the sweater and driving the car. “Presents are material goods, and attachment to material goods kills the soul,” Buddha tells Homer. At this point Buddha hears police sirens and speeds off, saying, “I’m not going to jail again.” Nonetheless, he is seen in custody, shirtless, with tattoos as he is handcuffed against the convertible’s hood. Buddha is uncharacteristically surly, demanding the officer’s badge number and warning him and his partner that they better hope he never gets out of jail. The columnist Surya Das, author of the best-selling Awakening the Buddha Within: Tibetan Wisdom for the Western World, suggests it would be more theologically consistent to have him pulled over for driving too slowly.
Lisa’s conversion doesn’t make her any less of a Simpson, even as it is integrated into her character. After her initial discomfort with her daughter’s decision, Marge uses it when necessary. When a string of pet cats dies, Marge is angry at God, but she comforts Lisa by saying, “You’re a Buddhist, so you know your pet is reincarnated as a higher being,” in this case a dog. In a subsequent episode, Lisa is seen meditating in the lotus position at a backyard koi pond. But Lisa is still vulnerable to manipulation. “As a Buddhist, I’d believe Buddha in a commercial,” she says.
Surya Das is generally satisfied with the Simpsons episode that deals with Lisa’s conversion. “This episode gives a nice, pleasant, agreeable—if stereotypical—representation of Buddhism as popularly understood in the West today,” he says. “I don’t think that, given the limits of the genre, there is anything very objectionable in it, except to nitpickers and brainwashed traditionalists. If it leaves out anything, it is the notion of reincarnation and karma, two closely interrelated ideas somewhat (though definitely not entirely) foreign to the Western mind. If there were a little more emphasis on nonviolence, altruism and lovingkindness, and non-sectarianism, it would’ve pretty much summed up my favorite ‘ism’ in a nutshell. Some modernists subscribe to the belief that Buddhism is less a religion than an ethical and psychological way of awakening. That is, it has little or no dogma, no creed one has to subscribe to, no conversion ceremonies, no absolute deity or creator, etc. Its sole goal is enlightenment, both universal and personal.” The goal of Buddhism, he says, “is the realization of enlightened wisdom and love.”
Das also sees some shortcomings. “On the critical side,” he says, “the idea that Buddhism teaches—that Buddha taught—in the two first Noble Truths that the cause of suffering is desire may not be the best, most well-rounded, or even useful translation of the original concept of ‘dukkha.’ I would say the first truth is that life is difficult, and the second is that its cause is ignorant attachment or unwise desire. Moreover, my understanding and teaching regarding the Buddha’s first truth is always that unenlightened life is full of confusion and suffering. It causes ignorance and attachment to and desire for things that don’t help very much, in either the short or long run—looking for love (and happiness) in all the wrong places, as the song more or less goes. Also, I thought the way the phrase ‘no creator god’ is thrown in (in Lisa’s summation of Buddhist tenets) seems oversimplified. No separate eternal deity or creator would be more accurate, since karma is the creator of all things.”
Mario D’Amato, a specialist in Buddhist studies at Rollins College in Winter Park, Florida, agrees with Surya Das, but is somewhat more forgiving of the portrayal: “Regardless of whether or not the episode accurately represents Buddhism (or accurately represents one’s preferred form of Buddhism), it’s great that the episode allows even Buddhist viewers to see some humor in the religion. I don’t believe that it’s antithetical to Buddhism to be able to laugh a bit at Buddhism itself—this might even be helpful in breaking one’s own attachments, including attachments to religion. After all, according to an ancient metaphor, Buddhism itself is only a raft which should be left behind when the goal is reached. Buddhism is perhaps one of the most humorous traditions among the world’s major religions. Doses of humor may be found throughout the religion. From the subtle hint of a smile seen in many artistic depictions of the Buddha, to humorous stories in Buddhist scriptures, to the crazy antics of Chinese Zen masters, it’s hard not to see bits of humor in Buddhism.
“American Buddhist viewers should feel proud that Lisa Simpson converts to their religion, primarily because she is one of the most lovable characters on the show. Whether or not the episode gets all the details of ‘basic Buddhism’ straight is not as important as the fact that Lisa converts to Buddhism: While viewers might not remember much about the teachings as presented in the show, they will remember that Lisa, a favorite of many, converted to Buddhism. Lisa is open-minded, reflective, ethical, and interested in improving herself in various ways, while still preserving a child-like sense of innocence (she is, after all, eternally a child!). These are all excellent qualities, ones which are espoused by many Buddhist traditions. So American Buddhist viewers should be pleased to have their religion represented by one of the most lovable and intelligent characters on television.”
Given the spectrum of possibilities for satire, Buddhism is fairly and positively represented in The Simpsons, at least from my outsider’s perspective. And because it is as much a philosophy as a religion, there is nothing in Lisa’s conversion that prevents her from continuing to speak for the prophetic voice of Jesus as well as for the reflective Buddha.