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ОглавлениеCHAPTER 2
Early Zen in China and Korea
When the hubless wheel turns, Master or no master can stop it.
It turns above heaven and below earth, South, north, east, and west.
—Mumonkan, Case 8, in Reps 1994, 124
For centuries, the threads of Taoism and Confucianism had been intimately woven into the fabric of Chinese cultures. Both are thought to have had their origins around the sixth century B.C., over six hundred years before Buddhism arrived in China and more than a thousand years before Zen began. Buddhism might not have been as widely accepted if the Chinese people had not already been practicing these earlier religions, which paved the way for Buddhist thought. The two philosophies complement each other perfectly. Taoism has been called the Way of Heaven. Confucianism has been called the Way of Man. Taoism guided people spiritually, helping them return to the source, the mysterious Tao that is in the deepest nature of everything and everyone. Confucianism offered a compass for ethical behavior, to sincerely follow the golden mean, chung, thereby discovering both inner and outer harmony. From China, Buddhism made its way to Korea, and then to Japan.
Landscape painting depicting a hidden forest monastery
BUDDHISM COMES TO CHINA
Mahayana Buddhism took its first steps on Chinese soil during the first century A.D. Beginning in outlying areas of China, Buddhism gradually spread into the heart of the country via well-established trade routes. China avidly embraced Buddhism, and by A.D. 500, Buddhism was even more popular in China than it had been in India.
The Chinese added their own unique perspective, blending Buddhism with Confucianism and Taoism. Chinese translators who introduced Buddhism often couched it in Taoist terms to make it more understandable and easier to assimilate. For example, Chinese translators substituted the word Tao for the Sanskrit word marga, or “Path.” The Chinese had long believed that Tao, a mysterious Oneness, was the foundation and essence of al being. This old Chinese concept merged with the new Buddhist ideas, giving Chinese Buddhism a flavor never quite intended by the Sanskrit texts.
Many new Buddhist sects emerged in China around the time that Zen began. In fact, the years between A.D. 500 and 800 were the most creative for Chinese Buddhism. T’ien-t’ai (Tendai), Pure Land, and Hua-yen were three sects that began in China and would live on in Japan and Korea as prominent forms of Buddhism. Zen was also founded during this period.
ZEN BEGINNINGS
Returning to the root,
we get the essence.
—“Hsin Hsin Ming,” Byth 1969, 101
Without the creative inspiration of the Chinese people combining with the religious mysticism of India, Zen as we know it would not have come to be. Zen blends the spirit of emptiness from Buddhism with the true nature of Tao, a mysterious Oneness that permeates and guides everything. Zen emerged as a new Mahayana Buddhist sect in A.D. 500, guiding people to enlightened experience through the practice of meditation. In fact, Zen is the Japanese word for meditation. The Chinese word is Ch’an, which is how Zen was known to the people of China. The regular practice of meditation continues to be the cornerstone of Ch’an and Zen, as it was in the beginning.
The First Patriarch of Zen was an Indian Buddhist monk who was given the name Bodhidharma by his teacher of Buddhism, Pranatara. It was Pranatara’s dying wish that Bodhidharma travel to China and spread the teachings of Mahayana: The mind is the buddha. Bodhidharma followed his teacher’s wish and made the long, difficult journey to China.
Once on Chinese soil, Bodhidharma traveled around the countryside preaching his method. He said:
I don’t talk about precepts, devotion, or ascetic practices. . . These are fanatical, provisional teachings. Once you recognize your moving, miraculously aware nature, yours is the mind of all buddhas. (Pine 1989, 42-43)
Buddha is Sanskrit for “aware.” Bodhidharma believed that all of your awareness—whether seeing, hearing, moving your arms and legs, even blinking—is intimately identified with buddha nature. “This nature is the mind. And the mind is the Buddha. And the Buddha is the path. And the path is Zen” (Pine 1989, 29).
Emperor Wu, of the Liang dynasty (502-57), heard about this radical monk from India and summoned him for an audience. Emperor Wu was a generous patron of Buddhism and zealously supported Buddhist doctrine. He said to Bodhidharma, “I have built many Buddhist temples and distributed many scriptures. Have I acquired merit?”
Bodhidharma answered, “Absolutely none.” Bodhidharma believed that merit derives from wisdom, which is cultivated by meditation, not external acts.
Emperor Wu then asked, “Who then is before me?”
Bodhidharma replied, “I do not know!”
Bodhidharma’s answers shocked and confused the emperor, who did not understand that Bodhidharma was attempting to demonstrate his commitment to the purity and simplicity of Zen. Buddha mind, the state of consciousness discovered through meditation, is the same for all people, peasants and kings alike. Everyone has a buddha mind, part of the Oneness, without any hierarchy or superiority. Anyone can become Buddha through meditation’s transformation.
Bodhidharma quickly became disillusioned by the lack of understanding and commitment in those he encountered. According to legend, he traveled to a cave near the Shaolin temple in Hunan Province and sat facing a wall, meditating for nine years, speaking to no one. Word spread that there was an intensely devoted monk deep in meditation who had great wisdom. Many came, hoping to learn from him, but Bodhidharma sat quietly, gaze fixed. No successor was among them. No one was worthy.
Finally, one man, Hui-k’o (487-593), was said to have cut off his own arm and handed it to Bodhidharma as a symbol of his absolute dedication to the Way. With this gesture from Hui-k’o, Bodhidharma helped him realize enlightenment and accepted him as a worthy successor. Hui-k’o became the Second Patriarch of Zen, carrying forth the spirit of Zen.
Zen was taught personally. Enlightenment was communicated directly from teacher to student, much like it was first taught by Buddha to Mahakasyapa. This form of learning continues today: Zen wisdom is still communicated through contact between teacher and student and is called direct transmission.
The early Chinese patriarchs were well versed in the Chinese classics, and they integrated Zen with the accepted philosophies of China, particularly Taoism. Each man contributed in his own way. The Third Patriarch, Sengts’an, (d. 606) composed the first Zen poem, “Hsin Hsin Ming, Inscribed on the Believing Mind,” which clearly shows the integration between Buddhism and Taoism to form the unique synthesis that is Zen. Taoism sees all phenomena in the world as yin and yang opposites. Buddhism views all as emptiness. Zen blends the two:
When activity is stopped and passivity obtains
This passivity again is a state of activity.
. . . The activity of the Great Way is vast.
It is neither easy nor difficult. (Blyth 1969, 100-101)
The Fourth Patriarch, Tao-hsin (580-651), organized the first Zen community; here, monks lived separated from their families and society. Hung-jen (601-674), the Fifth Patriarch, inspired many great Zen masters who founded sects of Zen that endured for several generations. His most famous pupil, Hui-neng, helped launch Zen toward its vital and enduring future.
THE SIXTH PATRIARCH
Bodhidharma is considered the founder of Zen, but Hui-neng (638-713), the Sixth Patriarch, brought about a new emphasis. Unlike all the previous patriarchs, who were highly educated, Hui-neng was said to be a poor, illiterate firewood cutter. One day, just after having sold some of his firewood in the marketplace, he came upon a man reciting one of the most famous Mahayana sutras, the Diamond Sutra (Jewel of Transcendental Wisdom). This Sutra, when carefully studied, can bring about a reorientation of thinking in the Buddhist way. Hui-neng listened to the words and felt a profound change take place. Unexpectedly, and in a flash of sudden insight, he was enlightened. The idea that anyone, even a simple peddler, could become suddenly enlightened became one of the seminal ideas in Hui-neng’s Zen.
Hui-neng journeyed to the temple of Hung-jen, the Fifth Patriarch, to deepen his understanding. Monasteries usually excluded uneducated people, but Hui-neng was accepted as a lay monk and given the job of pounding rice and splitting firewood. Hung-jen recognized that his new student had natural talent.
Eventually, the Fifth Patriarch was ready to retire and appoint a successor. Hung-jen asked his students to compose a poem that epitomized their insight. Shen-hsiu, the senior student, was naturally expected to be given the official robe and bowl that signifies direct transmission. Shen-hsiu’s poem read:
Our body is the bodhi tree
And our mind a mirror bright
Carefully we wipe them hour by hour
And let no dust alight. (Price & Mou-lam 1990, 10)
On hearing this poem, Hui-neng felt a deeper insight and composed his own poem:
There is no bodhi tree
Nor stand of a mirror bright
Since all is void,
Where can the dust alight? (Price & Mou-lam 1990, 72)
The Master listened to both poems and recognized Hui-neng’s wisdom. According to the account of what happened, as written in the Platform Sutra, by Hui-neng’s disciple, Hung-jen believed that his disciples would not accept an illiterate lay monk as his successor, so he secretly sent Hui-neng off to the south to start his own branch of Zen. Meanwhile, he also recognized Shen-hsiu who had come to merit the promotion through his years of devoted service and study. Shen-hsiu, traveled north and founded the Northern School. He taught that calm, quiet meditation gradually lead practitioners to an enlightened life. Following a bitter conflict with the Southern school led by Hui-neng’s disciple Shen-hui (670-762). The direct line of Northern Zen did not last beyond two more generations of students. Echoes of the quiet Zen of Shen-hsiu resonate to this day in the practice of Soto Zen, where daily quiet meditation is primary.
By contrast, Hui-neng’s Southern School was active, guiding students to sudden awakenings. Hui-neng accepted students of any class or background because he firmly believed, based on his own experience, that “the essence of mind is already pure and free” (Price and Mou-lam 1990, 73). Neither long study nor unusual talent was necessary to achieve enlightenment. Anyone, from a lowly peasant to a royal king, could have enlightenment, forever transforming life, once they realized this simple truth. Hui-neng’s Southern School became the dominant force. Most modern schools of Zen trace their roots back to Hui-neng.
T’ANG DYNASTY (618-907): THE FLOWERING OF ZEN
Following Hui-neng, Zen spread throughout the country, with many great masters who expressed themselves freely. The T’ang period was one of the most creative and innovative for Zen in China. During this period, Zen masters found ways to teach without using rational explanations, often without words. Instead, the monks took action by swinging a stick or shouting. Students in this period could expect the unexpected from their teachers. They were called upon to stretch the limits of understanding by answering bizarre questions and solving strange puzzles. In the spaces between, when confusion and surprise left a gap, the light of enlightenment could suddenly break through.
Ma-tsu (709-788) was one of the many great masters of this period. His work, along with that of other innovative teachers, shaped the development of Zen in China and later became a backdrop for Korean and Japanese Zen.
Ma-tsu was a dynamic and forceful individual who was the first Zen master known to use shouting to bring his students to enlightenment. One of his teachers was a student of Hui-neng, putting Ma-tsu in direct line with the sudden enlightenment tradition.
One famous exchange between Ma-tsu and his teacher illustrates a primary understanding in the Southern School of Zen. As a young student, Ma-tsu was meditating ardently in pursuit of a pure mind. The Master asked him, “Why are you sitting so long in meditation?”
Ma-tsu replied, “I am hoping to become a buddha.”
With this, his teacher picked up a tile and began rubbing it with a stone. Ma-tsu looked at him, puzzled. “What are you doing, Master?”
The Master answered, ‘I am polishing this tile until it becomes a mirror.”
This made no sense to Ma-tsu, so he asked, ‘How can you make a mirror from a tile?”
The teacher answered, “Exactly! How can you make a buddha by trying to purify your mind?”
This communicated the essence of Hui-neng’s Zen:Your original nature is already pure, just as it is. Why try to cleanse it? Throughout his life, Ma-tsu continued to teach that the mind is the buddha.
One of Ma-tsu’s students, Pai-chang (720-814), created rules for everyday life in the Zen monastery. All monks must take vows to live an absolutely ethical life. But vows were not enough. They must also do some form of work along with daily meditation. He believed that if your mind is the buddha, then you should be able to bring this understanding into all aspects of life, including work. After all, Hui-neng was a firewood cutter.
One day, Pai-chang’s students, thinking they would give their Master a rest from working in the field, hid his gardening tools. Pai-chang refused to eat. Finally the monks had no choice but to return his tools. Pai-chang told them, “A day without work is a day without food.”
This became the motto for all the Zen monasteries that followed. The work the monks did raising crops, building monasteries, and taking care of their own needs as an ethically strong community allowed Zen to evolve independently, through all kinds of political climates. Thanks to the monastic tradition of self-sufficiency that Pai-chang initiated, Zen was not harmed by the great obliteration of Buddhism that took place in China from 841 to 845.
Huang-po (d. 850), who is also known by his Japanese name, Obaku, was a student of Pai-chang. He helped his disciples experience the true nature of the Buddha mind: absolute emptiness. “Develop a mind which rests on nothing whatever,” Huang-po explained (Blofeld 1994, 153). Huang-po urged his students: “Mind is filled with radiant clarity, so cast away the darkness of your old concepts. Rid yourselves of everything” (Blofeld 1994, 160). The Way is not something to be reached by sutra studies or pious rituals, he taught, and described enlightenment as “A perception, sudden as blinking, that subject and object are one, will lead to a deeply mysterious wordless understanding; and by this understanding will you awake to the truth of Zen” (Blofeld 1994, 161).
Lin-chi, Rinzai Zen
Huang-po was a teacher of Lin-chi (d. 866), who became one of the most influential Zen masters of all time and the founder of the Rinzai School of Zen. Lin-chi, called Rinzai in Japanese, could be considered a humanist. He believed that people are perfect just as they are. He called this “the man of no rank” because he felt that nothing is missing. Why pursue external titles, positions, and learnings? He advised his disciples, “Just be ordinary. Don’t put on airs” (Watson 1993, 192). Ultimately, Zen enlightenment comes from within, naturally.
Lin-chi told his disciples, “Since you students lack faith in yourself, you run around seeking something outside” (Dumoulin 1990, 191). He believed that people should turn the light of awareness inward to find the true Way.
Seeking outside for something
This hardly becomes you!
lf you wish to know your original mind,
don’t try to join with it, don’t try to depart from it! (Watson 1993, 62)
Lin-chi spoke to his disciples in everyday language, but, like many masters of the T’ang period, he also used sudden, dramatic actions—such as shouting, kicking, or even a blow with a stick—to help students shake off their inhibiting, rigid sense of reality.
A monk once asked Lin-chi, “Tell me what is the essence of Buddhism?” Lin-chi held up his fly wisk. The monk shouted. And then, suddenly, Lin-chi struck him. There was no room for intellectualizing. The student found enlightenment in that instantaneous experience.
Although Lin-chi taught in a small rural monastery, his lectures were later recorded by a lay disciple of the Rinzai school, Li Tsun-hsu (d. 1038), as a discourse, called the Lin-chi Lu, which later expanded into the Rinzairoku in Japanese. Lin-chi’s school of Zen flourished, in part, because his wise teachings were transcribed and passed along. In realizing that the everyday, sincere, ordinary human being lacks nothing, Lin-chi helped generations of Zen practitioners discover that the Way of Zen meant being true to their nature.
THE SUNG DYNASTY IN CHINA (960-1279): ZEN SPREADS
Zen’s most creative masters lived and taught during the T’ang dynasty, but more people practiced Zen than ever before during the Sung dynasty, when Zen became institutionalized as a nationally recognized and practiced religion. Zen monks taught at the imperial court for the first time, and the government funded a state system of temples, called the Five Mountains and Ten Temples. Two major schools became dominant: Lin-chi’s Rinzai and Ts’ao-tung, later to be known as Soto in Japan.
In order to accommodate the large number of students who wanted to learn Zen, the masters devised new ways to teach. Even though they could no longer attend to each person individually, they still wanted to remain true to the spirit of Zen by bringing about direct transmission, mind to mind, the foundation for learning Zen. To solve this problem, the enigmatic stories and riddles that were used by the T’ang masters were written down into what became known as kung-ans (koans in Japanese), which translates as “public record.” Students were given a Zen master’s koan to think about in meditation to help them evolve. Koans were often paradoxically mysterious and puzzling. Only when conscious thinking was set aside could the koan be truly “penetrated,” thereby stimulating enlightenment. With time, koans were collected into books, such as the Mumonkan (Gateless Gate) and the Hekiganroku (Blue Cliff Record).
Bodhidharma’s encounter with Emperor Wu became the first koan in the Hekiganroku. These books were brought to Japan and helped to keep the spirit of the early Zen masters alive. Later, the renowned Japanese Zen monk Hakuin systematized koan practice, creating a method that is still used today in Rinzai Zen. Koans force the individual to discover a new way of thinking. We will work with koans later in this book.
Rinzai and Soto differed in how they taught Zen. Rinzai practitioners believed koans required active searching and intense involvement, to bring about enlightenment in a flash. Koans were a dynamic teaching aid to open and develop enlightenment,(satori in Japanese) for Rinzai students.
One of the most prominent Rinzai masters of the Sung period, Ta-hui (1089-1163), believed so strongly in the value of the inner struggle that he burned every copy of the Hekiganroku, written by a member of his teacher’s school, because he thought it was too explicit. Fortunately, a copy was discovered two hundred years later and the book was reissued. Ta-hui developed a method of koan practice called hua-t’ou, in which the essence of the koan becomes the focus of meditation, with very powerful results.
Early Soto practitioners criticized this application of koan practice, claiming that koan study can point students’ attention away from meditation, the true source of enlightenment. They drew from the original message of Bodhidharma and believed that sudden enlightenment was not the goal. It was better to practice daily meditation and foster a deep, continuous awareness, calm and clear.
LATER PERIOD
The Sung period was the apex of Zen’s popularity in China. By the time of the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) in China, Zen began to merge with other Buddhist sects.
Early Buddhism Leads to Korean Son (Zen)
Korea learned of Zen directly from China, before it went to Japan, and Zen played a prominent role in its history. Korea was introduced to Buddhism from China during the Three Kingdom period (37 B.C.-A.D. 668) of its history. The royal houses of all three kingdoms welcomed Buddhism in the hopes that it would help to bring greater peace and unity. Buddhism was woven into the fabric of Korean life as the Korean peninsula continued its close interactions with China.
Won Hyo (617-686) popularized Buddhism in Korea. This uninhibited and free-spirited monk wrote extensively on Buddhism, especially topics concerning faith, interacting with nobles and commoners alike. His writings are still being translated today. He is revered by Korean Zen masters as well as Korean Buddhists as a great teacher even though he was unconventional. After enlightenment, he did not withdraw into a monastery. Instead, he spent his time helping people in bars and places that lacked social approval. After all, those were the people who needed help, not the virtuous! He taught followers how to meditate deeply to be happy and enlightened, whatever their circumstance. He encouraged a syncretic trend in Korean Buddhism, inspiring the common person to harmony and self-acceptance. Enlightenment should be for everyone, he believed, not just the elite.
KOREAN SON DEVELOPS THROUGH DYNAMIC MASTERS/span>
Koreans traveled to China and studied Zen under Ma-tsu’s students during the T’ang dynasty period. Upon their return to Korea with their Zen enlightenment, these monks founded remote Zen monasteries in the sparsely populated mountain regions. These monasteries became known as the Nine Mountain Schools, the foundational structure for Zen in Korea. Toui (d. 825) was the founder of Porim-sa temple on Mount Kaji, the first of the Korean mountain schools of Zen.
KOREA’S GREATEST ZEN MASTER: CHINUL
Chinul (1158-1210) was recognized not only in Korea but also in China as one of Korea’s greatest Zen monks. He taught that there is a sentient intelligence within each person, the principle behind seeing and hearing: the individual mind, the buddha-nature. This principle is what makes it possible for human beings to become enlightened. In Chinul’s system, human beings are capable of using all aspects of their intelligence for enlightened living. Each has its place in the grand scheme of buddha nature.
Chinul carefully expounded the need for both gradual and sudden approaches to enlightenment. Sudden enlightenment, first explained by Hui-neng, happens in an instant of direct, intense realization. But learning does not stop with the first light of insight. Gradually, over time the student develops, deepening the enlightenment. Gradual cultivation relates to the relative rational, or sign-oriented, aspects of our everyday world. All external sign-oriented phenomena are invitations to experience a deeper, truer understanding at the absolute level of wisdom. The path of enlightenment is here and now, through symbols and words, as well as through experience.
Chinul’s teachings were specific and detailed, offering techniques so that the needs of students with varied intellectual and spiritual capacity could be met. For example, he thought not-thinking meditation was helpful for those who had attained spiritual awakening, but he also believed the intellect was needed to help disentangle students from negative habits. This was part of the sudden awakening/gradual cultivation process he believed was essential for sustaining enlightenment. As he explained to his students: “Hence sudden awakening and gradual cultivation are like the two wheels of a cart: neither one can be missing” (Seung Sahn 1987, 99).
Chinul’s approach to Zen technique emphasized and developed Ta-hui’s analytic adaptation of koans, or hua-t’ou, calling this tool of meditation hwadu. Hwadu are shorter than koans because the koan story is removed, thus leaving only the topic. Students were instructed to focus attention on the hwadu as a kind of yogic concentration to block out distraction and interpretation and thus achieve a deep focus on the essence of the koan. The discursive intellect was bypassed. Chinul felt that this method was a direct path to enlightenment.
Chinul’s school of Son was called the Chogye, which is the Korean term for the sect of Hui-neng. Chinul offered a unified group to which the separate, often contending, schools could belong, with a harmonizing rationale. He invited monks from the different schools to meet in the forests for group meditation.
Although unity did not come to Korean Buddhism for quite some time, it remained an important goal for later monks. T’aego Pou (1301-1382), along with the influence of King Kongmin’s royal decree (1345), encouraged the Zen monks to unite as one order, as Chinul had done before him. Unity gradually came to be a political reality, but hundreds of years, as well as the decrees of more than one monarch, were needed to bring it to fruition.
LATER DEVELOPMENTS
In Korea, the tides turned against Buddhism, forcing those who continued the traditions to retreat to the remote mountain temples. Although the life cycle of Zen as an independent sect of Buddhism was ebbing in China and Korea, it would find new life in Japan, where it was just beginning to take root.