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Dear
Dharma Friends,
This
is the second in a three part series. In the first part, we only had
time to discuss the Hua-yen and the Mantra schools of Chinese
Buddhism. Today we are going to talk about the Mantra, Vinaya, and
Ch’an schools. As you may recall, there are eight schools of
Chinese Buddhism, representing different ways of practice. The
purpose here is to give an overview of each school so that you may
find one that best suits you.
The
Vinaya School and Its Practice
Vinaya
is a Sanskrit word, the English equivalent of which is precept or
code of conduct. The focus of this school is the observance of
precepts.
The
sutras repeatedly say, “When precepts are observed, the Dharma
lives.” Like a compass, precepts guide us through the journey of
life. If we do not observe traffic rules when we drive, we endanger
everyone on the road. In the journey of life, if we do not observe
the precepts, we put our lives at risk. Precepts can be compared to
a bright light, illuminating our way in the dark. Externally, they
serve as a line of defense when we are bombarded by the sights and
sounds of the world. Internally, they help us see through our
delusion to our bright and shining buddha nature. Precepts are like
teachers, gently nudging us in the right direction. When the Blessed
One was about to enter parinirvana, one of his disciples asked,
“Lord Buddha, our teacher, when you are gone, whom can we look to
for guidance?” The Buddha replied, “Let the precepts be your
teacher.” As long as we are mindful of the precepts, we will not
stray too far from the path.
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A.
The Origin of Precepts
The
precepts began with the Buddha. When his disciples failed to act in
accordance with his teachings, the Buddha established rules to make
clear the conduct that was expected of them. These rules gradually
evolved into the precepts of today. We should not regard the
precepts as restrictive to our individual behavior but as helping us
increase freedom for all. In fact, it was for the welfare of the
Sangha and his followers that the Buddha established precepts. They
provided the Sangha with a structure to live harmoniously and a
skillful means to correct ill behavior. The Buddha also used the
precepts to help the bhiksus and bhiksunis assess their behavior and
gain confidence in their cultivation. A peaceful Sangha was a living
example of the Buddha’s teachings that inspired laymen to
renounce. Also, people of other faiths were drawn to the Buddha and
his teachings when they saw the happiness and joy of the Sangha. Not
least, the Buddha established the precepts to help later generations
remember the Dharma.
It
is interesting to read about the origins of many of the precepts we
have today. Take the monastic precept of abstaining from meat. When
the Buddha was teaching the Dharma in Varanasi, one of his bhiksus
fell ill. A woman named Suvid, a devoted follower of the Buddha,
came to ask after the health of the bhiksu, “How do you feel? Is
there anything I can cook for you?” The bhiksu replied, “I am
hungry for some meat.” After taking her leave, she realized that
the market was closed, and she would not be able to buy any meat to
cook for the bhiksu. Not knowing what else to do, she elected to cut
out a piece of her flesh instead. She had it cooked and brought it
before the bhiksu. The bhiksu was unaware it was human flesh and ate
the food that Suvid had prepared for him. While the bhiksu’s
health improved, Suvid’s wound became infested with maggots and
came down with high fever. As she lay in bed moaning, her husband
came home and asked how she fell ill. Suvid relayed to him what had
transpired and added, “I am afraid I may not live through this.
Please ask the Buddha to come and accept my offering before I get
worse.”
When
the Buddha arrived, Suvid felt renewed strength. She got up and
prostrated. The Buddha, who knew what she had done, told her, “You
have acted foolishly and not in accordance with my teachings. When
you give alms, you should do so only if it does not cause undue
suffering to yourself or others.” Because of this incident, the
Buddha established the rule that monastics should abstain from meat
and that their asking of alms should not impose undue burden on the
giver. True alms giving is when both the giver is happy to give and
the receiver is happy to receive. Some Buddhists think that to
demonstrate their faith, they have to donate even when they can
hardly make ends meet. This is not in accordance with the Buddha’s
teachings. We have to live within our means and cannot forever
pretend to be what we are not. When our actions are contrived, the
relationship will not last. After all, it is not the size of the
donation but the sincerity with which it is made that matters.
We
can read more about the precepts in many of the sutras and sastras,
especially in what we refer to as the four vinayas: the Sarvastivada
Vinaya, Dharmagupta
Vinaya, Mahisasaka Vinaya,
and the Samghika Vinaya.
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B.
Precepts for Renunciants
In
the Buddhist tradition, a man renunciant is called a bhiksu whereas
a woman renunciant a bhiksuni. There are 250 precepts for bhiksus
and over 300 for bhiksunis. Even sramaneras and sramanerikas, boy
and girl renunicants aged between seven and twenty, observe ten
precepts. Generally, we are not supposed to discuss monastic
precepts with householders, so I am only going to give you a general
idea of what they are.
The
first section of the Vinaya
Pitaka[1]
contains the parajika
precepts, the violation of which means expulsion from the monastic
order. There are four such precepts, and they address abstaining
from killing, stealing, sexual misconduct, and lying. It is clear
why the first three are serious offenses, but the precept against
lying needs further clarification. Lying here does not mean those
little white lies we tell to not inconvenience others or hurt their
feelings. The lying here is grave misrepresentation. It includes
lying about having supernatural power or attaining the fruit of
arhatship in order to attract offerings from devotees. Violation of
any of these precepts is cause for expulsion.
The
sanghavasesa vinaya
is a group of thirteen precepts, the violation of which requires
open confession before the assembly or face dismissal from the
order. Such violations include sexual thought, sexual expression,
willful slandering of others, and greed. Willful slandering includes
the perpetuation of false and malicious rumors such as, “So-and-so
venerable has a six-figure bank account.” Unless you are his
accountant, such idle gossip is unsubstantiated and can ruin the
reputation of a monastic. Another example is a statement of this
nature: “Such-and-such venerable is a real crook.” Do you know
this for a fact? Did you witness his crime? If it is only hearsay,
it is rumor-mongering and totally irresponsible. Such utterances can
cause great pain to others and are violations of the sanghavasesa
vinaya. A monastic who has violated the sanghavasesa vinaya requires
the approval of the assembly to continue staying in the Sangha.
The
pataka vinaya is a group
of precepts, the violation of which may result in the falling into
the hell realms. Thirty of these precepts call for the practice of
letting go, especially of material possessions. One example is the
rule of only keeping the permitted number of robes and alms bowls
and giving away any extras within ten days. If this rule is
violated, the remedy is to immediately give away the surplus for
others to use. In this way, one practices letting go, breaking loose
from the grip of greed. Additionally, there are ninety precepts
which address other types of conduct such as lying, the use of harsh
words, and duplicity in speech. Words play a very important part in
our lives, and these precepts help us to be vigilant of this
“door” of karma. The precept against lying also includes the
spreading of rumors, falsely pretending to know something, and not
speaking up when you should. Many of us shirk our civic
responsibility and look the other way when the situation does not
impact us directly. This is still a form of lying and a violation of
the precept.
The
next group of monastic precepts is the pratidesaniya
vinaya. Pratidesaniya means confession of precept violation
before another person, and there are four such precepts. One
concerns the asking for alms. At the time of the Buddha, many
devotees would travel great distances to remote places to make
offerings to bhiksus, and some were robbed along the way. Because of
this, the Buddha established the rule that bhiksus should go into
towns to ask for alms instead of the other way around. Any violator
had to confess in front of another person and show remorse.
The
duskrta precepts, of
which there are a hundred, deal with monastic etiquette. Violations
include putting the feet on the table while sitting, being messy in
appearance, or wearing sandals into the temple. The consequences of
such violations are relatively minor, and the remedy is to work
continually to improve oneself.
While
most of the above precepts deal with one’s actions and deeds, a
group of seven precepts addresses interaction with others,
specifically the resolving of disagreements. Monastics are only
human, and they may disagree on the interpretation of the Dharma or
management of temple affairs. These precepts require those who
disagree to meet, state their positions, and come to a mutual
understanding. Once the disagreement is resolved, one should not
rehash the argument or speak ill of others behind their backs.
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C.
Precepts for Householders
Next
we are going to discuss the precepts applicable to householders. The
most common are the Five Precepts and the Eight Precepts. The Five
Precepts teach us to refrain from killing, stealing, sexual
misconduct, lying, and the taking of intoxicants. These five
precepts are very similar to the five ethical rules espoused by
Confucianism. Refraining from killing is compassion, refraining from
stealing is integrity, refraining from sexual misconduct is
civility, refraining from lying is trustworthiness, and refraining
from the taking of intoxicants is wisdom.
All
five precepts actually boil down to one: refrain from violating
yourself or others. Some of you may think that the Five Precepts
limit your freedom. But if we look below the surface, we see that
the Five Precepts promote freedom for all. To refrain from killing
is to respect the lives of others; if we do not encroach upon the
rights of others, we can all enjoy freedom of life. To refrain from
stealing is not to infringe upon the property rights of others, then
there can be freedom of wealth. To abstain from sexual misconduct is
to respect the body and integrity of others, allowing all to enjoy
the freedom of health and honor. To abstain from lying and false
speech is not to impugn on others’ reputations, and no one’s
name is harmed. To abstain from intoxicants and stimulants is to
avoid doing mental or physical harm to ourselves, and thus keeps us
from harming others as well. If a person keeps the Five Precepts,
then that person’s character and morality will be well grounded.
If a family keeps the Five Precepts, the character and morality of
its members will be in good order. If everyone in an organization,
society, or nation keeps the Five Precepts, then that body will
certainly enjoy stability, peace, and prosperity.
Some
people may think that as long as they do not undertake the Five
Precepts, they are exempt from the unwholesome karma associated with
the violation of these precepts. This cannot be further from the
truth. We only need to visit a prison to realize that all those
incarcerated for their crimes have violated the Five Precepts in one
way or another. For instance, those who have committed murder,
manslaughter, or aggravated assault have violated the precept
against killing. Those who are guilty of corruption,
misappropriation, or robbery have violated the precept against
stealing. Pornography, polygamy, rape, abduction, and prostitution
are all examples of violating the precept against sexual misconduct.
To engage in fraud, intimidation, and defaulting on loans is to
violate the precept against lying. In addition to proscribing
alcohol, the precept against intoxicants also includes heroin,
cocaine, and other illegal drugs, all of which damage the mind’s
cognitive abilities and lead one to do unconscionable acts. If
everyone upholds the Five Precepts, prisons will be empty.
The
Eight Precepts comprise the Five Precepts plus three more:
abstaining from perfume and cosmetics, from singing and dancing, and
from sleeping in high, comfortable beds. The purpose of these three
additional precepts is to practice simplicity and letting go. The
Buddha introduced the Eight Precept as a skillful means to let
householders have a taste of the monastic life, planting the seed of
renunciation in the process. It is customary to practice the Eight
Precepts on the six days of fasting and abstinence. The six days are
the eighth, fourteenth, fifteenth, twenty-second, twenty-ninth, and
thirtieth day of each month. There is no hard and fast rule which
day to choose. You can choose any, all, or a combination of these
days. You can also choose other days besides these six. In addition
to observing the Eight Precepts, it is customary to abstain from
food after noontime as a form of purification of the body.
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D.
Observing the Precepts
Why
do we observe the precepts? In the section above, we have touched on
the practical benefits of observing the precepts. In terms of our
spiritual life, observing the precepts is the key that opens the
door to spiritual maturity. According to the sutras, cultivation is
a three-step process of observing the precepts, meditative
concentration, and wisdom. Observing the precepts is the first step,
through which we develop meditative concentration. With meditative
concentration, wisdom will grow, and with wisdom we will be able to
achieve liberation.
There
are three levels of looking at the precepts: form, practice, and
spirit. Form is the words that describe the precept. Form is empty
of meaning unless we practice the precepts and incorporate them in
our everyday life. Once we put the precepts into practice, we still
have to go a step further and distill the spirit of the precepts.
Observing the precepts is not a mechanical process of following the
letter of the law. If we do not internalize the spirit of the
precepts, we will only see observance as a means to curb our desire,
which can be overwhelming and suffocating at times. If, however, we
internalize the spirit of the precept, its observance will become
natural to us. The beauty of the Dharma will flow from within us and
show in our composure and demeanor. When we are not driven by
impulses and desires, the mind will remain calm and meditative
concentration will develop. [These three aspects of the precepts are
not unlike the different elements of a piece of music. First, the
notes and symbols tell us what the music is. Next we have to
practice and play the music to hear how it sounds. Then there is the
soul of the music, contained in the notes yet much more than the
notes. Given the same musical score, different people play
differently. If we only play by the score and do not become one with
its soul, then it is just a collection of sounds. If we get into the
spirit of the score, then we have music. It is impractical, if not
impossible, to denote exactly how a score should be played; that has
to come from within us. Once we are in touch with the spirit of the
score, we enter a new dimension of playing. In a similar way, as we
coalesce the three aspects of the precepts into one, we’ll see
that observance breeds meditative concentration, which leads to
wisdom. These are the stepping stones to liberation.]
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The
Ch’an School and Its Practice
Of
the eight schools of Chinese Buddhism, the Ch’an school has the
greatest appeal today, especially to Westerners, and for good
reasons. In the rat-race of today, we can all use the calming effect
of meditative concentration. With the advent of e-mail, cell phones,
and pagers, we are more wired together than ever, yet many feel
isolated and unconnected. Some are so used to the hectic pace of the
era that the thought of a relaxing vacation seems boring and
uneventful. The excitement of the senses has become so heightened
that the inability to concentrate, reflected in such disorders as
“attention deficit disorder,” is on the rise. Given this
backdrop, Ch’an is indeed a good medicine for the people of today.
Ch’an
was introduced into China by Bodhidharma in CE[2]
520. Ch’an is the abbreviated form of the Chinese transliteration
of the Sanskrit term dhyana
which means quiet contemplation. From Bodhidharma to his successor
Hui-k’o to Hui-neng, the Sixth Patriarch, Ch’an gained in
popularity and became one of the main schools of Chinese Buddhism.
Its influence is not limited to the religious arena, but also
extends to philosophy and Chinese culture. Its impact on the Chinese
psyche is still being felt today. While other schools such as Hua-yen,
T’ien-t’ai, Yogachara, and San-lun all enjoyed their days of
glory at one point or another, they had all faded into the sunset
for one reason or another. In some cases, the teachings were too
rigorous for the general public, and in other cases, it was because
of the lack of strong successors. Of the eight schools, Ch’an and
Pure Land continually adjust to the times, and they remain popular
even today.
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A.
The Main Tenet of Ch'an
The
chief object of Ch’an is to “illumine the mind and see our true
nature.” To see our true nature is to know ourselves absent of
delusion. It seems sad and ludicrous that we do not know who we are.
When we are happy, the whole world looks bright and cheerful; when
we are sad, even a pretty thing like a flower looks droopy and
colorless. When we are angry, nothing pleases us, but when we feel
good, we can put up with much more. Sometimes we even catch
ourselves thinking, “I wish I didn’t feel that way,” as if we
cannot control how we feel. Which is the real self, the happy one or
the sad one? If we say that the self is a combination of them, we
are really saying that the self is an indeterminate entity that
changes at the mercy of circumstances. If so, we are washing our
hands of our own actions, a premise which taken to the extreme means
chaos and disorder. If we do not know ourselves, we become slaves of
circumstances, trapped in the cycle of rebirth. The practice of
Ch’an helps us look within, to see our true nature and discover
the tranquility that is available to all.
How
do we illumine the mind and see our true nature? How do we
rediscover our “original face[3]”?
The most important step to enlightenment is to let go of selfhood
and discrimination. When we give up the dualities of self and
others, the phenomenal and the transcendental, we suddenly reach the
core of Ch’an. I will explain this with a story. Once, a merchant
on his way to a distant land had to cross a mountain range whose
trails were winding and narrow. Letting his eyes wander, he lost his
footing and fell into a ravine. Instinctively he grabbed an old,
dried vine on the hillside. As he dangled in the air clutching the
vine with both hands, he saw the compassionate Buddha standing on
the road above him. He immediately called out, “Lord Buddha,
please help me.”
The
Blessed One replied, “For me to help, you have to do as I tell
you.”
Without
hesitation, the man said, “Of course, I’ll do exactly what you
say.”
“Good.
Then you have to let go of the vine.”
The
man could not believe his ears. He thought he would surely fall to
his death if he was to let go of the vine. Despite the repeated
urging of the Buddha, the man would not let go. There was not much
that the Buddha could do to help him.
This
is, of course, a story of symbolism. The Buddha is the Dharma, and
the vine represents selfhood. For us to accept the Dharma we have to
first let go of the attachment to selfhood. Like the vine in the
story, selfhood gives us a false sense of security and prevents us
from gaining true liberation. Letting go of the vine also symbolizes
the need for taking an extra step, or making a quantum leap, beyond
what we are comfortable with. To make this extra step, there is an
element of trust or what we refer to as faith in religion. As we
will soon see, the Ch’an practices of living, questioning, and
sitting meditation help us let go of the attachment to selfhood and
lay a firm foundation for our beliefs.
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B.
The Ch'an Practice
While
the object of worldly knowledge is understanding, the practice of
Ch’an seeks direct experience. Reasoning alone is not enough to
see the beautiful truth of Ch’an. When we read some of the
exchanges between Ch’an masters, we are likely to be baffled. The
exchanges may seem contradictory and devoid of common sense, but
they are rich in Ch’an flavor. We can experience Ch’an through
living, questioning, and meditating.
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1.
Ch’an is Living
One
can practice Ch’an in every aspect of daily life, whether drinking
a cup of tea or waiting for a train. Let me illustrate what I mean
with the following episode. During the T’ang dynasty, Lung-t’uan
Ch’ung-hsin renounced his household life under the tutelage of the
Ch’an master T’ien-huang Tao-wu. For a few years he did all
kinds of menial work and had yet to hear his teacher speak about the
Dharma. One day he decided to speak up. He asked his teacher,
“Teacher, I have been here several years and have not yet heard
you speak about the Dharma. Please be so kind as to teach me the
Way.”
His
teacher replied, “Since you have been here, there is not a day
that I did not speak to you about the Dharma.”
This
really confused Ch’ung-hsin. He asked further, “Excuse my
ignorance for not taking note. How did you show me the Way?”
“When
you bring me tea, I drink. When you serve me rice, I eat. When you
venerate me, I acknowledge your respect. I have never failed to show
you the Way.” When Ch’ung-hsin heard his teacher’s
explanation, he was instantly enlightened.
When
Ch’an was first introduced into China, the Chinese wisely adapted
the Indian method of meditative concentration to their pragmatic way
of life and infused such concentration into everyday living. There
were good reasons for the change. The purpose of sitting meditation
is to calm the mind and reflect on our true nature. But if we
separate meditating from living, we risk dwelling too much on
abstract, philosophical questions and lose touch with reality. Also,
prolonged sitting meditation induces drowsiness and muscle atrophy.
To ensure that practitioners did not run into such pitfalls, the
Fourth Patriarch of the Ch’an school pronounced that walking,
living, sitting, and reclining were all full of Ch’an. Later, the
Ch’an master Pei-chang promoted a self-reliant lifestyle that
integrated Ch’an with farming. He was true to his maxim: “A day
without work is a day without food.” Through the movement of the
hands in the field to the pumping of the heart while doing manual
labor, he awakened the true nature within and lived the truth of
Ch’an.
Ch’an
is not experienced only in sitting meditation but is present
everywhere and anytime. Even simple gestures like lifting the hand
or winking the eye can be full of Ch’an. When we go about our
activities with the serenity of sitting meditation, then we are
practicing Ch’an in the midst of life. Living Ch’an is
discovering the wonder of the universe through the most
insignificant activity, seeing greatness in the ordinary, and making
the profound accessible. We do not have to seek out opportunities to
practice Ch’an. Every aspect of life is material for Ch’an, and
there are many examples in the Ch’an annals that point to this
fact.
Ti-tzang
K’ui-ch’en, a well known Ch’an master of the T’ang dynasty,
was working in the field when a traveling monk passed by. The
Ch’an master asked the monk, “Where are you from?”
The
monk replied, “I came from the south.”
At
that time, the southern part of China was a mecca for the practice
of Ch’an, so K’ui-ch’en asked further, “How’s the Ch’an
school doing there?”
“Ch’an
is very popular, and it is the talk of the place.”
The
Ch’an master said, “That’s not bad, but it does not compare
with our farming practice. We grow rice and provide food for all.”
The
monk thought it strange that a Ch’an master would put such mundane
activity as farming above reading the sutras and doing meditation.
He asked, “Ch’an Master, how does farming help you free yourself
from the three realms of existence? How do you intend to ferry
sentient beings across the sea of suffering?”
The
Ch’an master knew exactly where he was coming from, and he drove
the point home with his reply, “What is this thing you call the
three realms of existence?” What the Ch’an master meant was that
while he lived in the three realms of existence, he was not trapped
within it. While he ate and slept like everyone, he was not bound by
these acts. The Ch’an master went about his life without
attachment. His was a life of complete freedom, a realm that those
who looked outside themselves for enlightenment could not
comprehend.
The
Sixth Patriarch says in the Platform Sutra, “The Dharma lives
within the world. Enlightenment cannot be attained outside of
living.” We need not look far to feel the presence of the Dharma;
it is everywhere. The Ch’an school capitalizes on this and teaches
us that living is the birthing ground of enlightenment. Why, then,
do most of us fail to become enlightened through the rhythm of our
daily lives? The problem lies in how we approach our daily life, and
it is up to us to see the connection between living and
enlightenment. I have a kung-an which helps me explain. The renowned
Ch’an master Ch’ao-chou once practiced Ch’an with the Ch’an
master N’ien-chuan. There he was assigned to cook meals for temple
residents. One day, while everyone was watering plants in the
garden, they heard Ch’ao-chou crying in the kitchen, “Fire!
Fire!” Everyone dropped everything and rushed to the kitchen to
see what happened. When they arrived, they saw the kitchen door
locked shut with Ch’ao-chou inside. Fearing for his safety, they
asked him to stand away from the door so that they could break down
the door and put out the fire, but Ch’ao-chou would not cooperate.
As they were wondering what to do, N’ien-chuan arrived and handed
Ch’ao-chou a key through the window. Only then did Ch’ao-chou
open the door and let others in to put out the fire. In this
kung-an, Ch’ao-chou showed us that the fire of delusion cannot be
extinguished through external
acts such as the watering of plants but only through our innate
ability of internal
introspection. Only when we approach our daily life with internal
peace of mind can we realize how living is Ch’an and attain
enlightenment through our daily activities. Throughout history,
there were many Ch’an masters who attained enlightenment through
the most ordinary activity.
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2.
Ch’an is Questioning
Most
of us look to religion to answer some of the most basic questions in
life or to help us through personal crises. Many religions demand a
certain amount of faith, and Buddhism is no different. Intellect
alone cannot help us see the transcendental, and we do need faith to
make the switch between the phenomenal and the transcendental.
Unlike other religions, Buddhism makes a distinction between blind
faith and reasoned faith, and it encourages us to ask questions so
that our faith is well grounded. It is important that we discern the
kind of teachings that will lead to freedom and not follow any
teachings blindly, for blind faith may very well cause our demise.
Many
discoveries arise from questions about some of the taken-for-granted
phenomena around us. Most of us have heard that Newton discovered
the laws of gravity after being struck on the head by a falling
apple. Watt invented the steam engine because he investigated the
reason for the bubbling force of steam. It was the haunting images
of the suffering of old age, sickness, and dying that made Prince
Siddhartha question the cause of suffering and realize the path to
the cessation of suffering. Healthy questioning drives discoveries
and inventions. Truth withstands the test of questioning, and
questioning is a way to realize the truth for ourselves. It is the
ability to question that put us on a higher plane in the animal
kingdom. There is an old Chinese saying that to learn is to question
the obvious. The effect of questioning is like the striking of a
bell—the bigger the force, the louder the sound. The deeper we
dig, the more complete the answer. In Buddhism, there is this
saying, “Great doubt engenders great realization, little doubt
little realization. With no doubt, there will be no realization.”
The Ch’an school encourages questioning. Through the use of
kung-an[4]
and hua-tou[5],
Ch’an masters stimulate our innate ability to question and
discover.
The
form of questions and answers used by Ch’an masters is different
from what we normally think of as questions and answers. Many of the
exchanges seem illogical and outrageous. They are often accompanied
by shock tactics like screaming and slapping. The dialogues are used
to provoke us to examine the accepted modes of thinking while the
slapping jolts us into letting go of our habitual clinging to
selfhood. When used appropriately, these treatments can help us shed
the layers of delusion that have been concealing our pure, original
nature.
Once
a traveling monk asked the Ch’an master Ma-tsu Tao-yi, “Why did
Bodhidharma journey from the west?” Ma-tsu gestured the monk to
come closer and without any warning slapped his face saying, “Six
ears hear differently.” In this exchange, the monk asked the
Ch’an master what special teachings Bodhidharma brought from
India. To which the Ch’an master replied that the Dharma could
only be accessed through direct experience and not by simply hearing
someone speak about it. The Ch’an master used the example of how
three people in the same discussion would walk away with a different
understanding. Because the monk failed to understand something so
transparent, he deserved a slap in the face.
Another
time, when the Ch’an master Yao-shan Wei-yen was meditating, a
traveling monk passed by and asked, “You are sitting here all
alone. What are you contemplating?”
The
Ch’an master replied, “Contemplating about no contemplation.”
The
monk pressed further, “How do you contemplate about no
contemplation?”
“Non-contemplation,”
the Ch’an master answered, right to the point.
On
the surface, this exchange does not make sense, yet it does. What
the Ch’an master means is this: While Ch’an is not something
that can be described with words, we have to rely on words (i.e.
contemplation) to get to the transcendental truth of Ch’an. Though
we rely on words, we have to go beyond the limitation of words (i.e.
non-contemplation) before we can access the gem of Ch’an.
For
many years Lin-chi Yi-hsuan was a student of the Ch’an master
Huang-po, but he dared not ask his teacher about the Dharma. On the
urging of the head monk, he gathered up his courage one day and
asked his teacher, “Ch’an Master, why did Bodhidharma journey
from the west?” Before he could finish his question, his teacher
gave him a good whack. Lin-chi was scared out of his wits and did
not say another word. But his question remained unanswered, so on
the encouragement of the head monk, he approached his teacher again
with trepidation. Three times he asked the question, and three times
he was whacked. Lin-chi thought his teacher did not like him and
decided to leave. Huang-po knew how he felt and said, “Why don’t
you go to the Ch’an master Tai-yu and be his student?”
When
Lin-chi arrived at Tai-yu’s house, Tai-yu asked, “Aren’t you
practicing Ch’an under Huang-po? Why are you here?”
“I
was not meant to be his student. Every time I asked him about the
Dharma, he hit me.” Lin-chi then recounted what happened.
After
Tai-yu heard the whole story, he sighed and said, “Huang-po is
most compassionate. He hit you for your own good.” These words
seemed to have cleared the clouds in the mind of Lin-chi, who broke
out in laughter and said, “Ha! Ha! Huang-po was telling me that
the teachings serve not that many purposes[6].”
Tai-yu
got up and grabbed Lin-chi by his collar. He wanted Lin-chi to go
back to his teacher for confirmation, so he told him in no uncertain
terms, “Hurry back to your teacher.” Lin-chi raised his fist and
struck Tai-yu three times, saying, “I am on my way.” Tai-yu
acknowledged the blows with laughter.
When
Lin-chi returned to Huang-po, he told his teacher outright,
“Teacher, I am enlightened.” After Lin-chi finished, Huang-po
was about to hit him again, but Lin-chi beat him to it and struck
him instead. Not only was Huang-po not angry, he could not have been
happier. Lin-chi did not let up and gave Huang-po a kick.
On
the surface, the behavior of Huang-po the teacher and Lin-chi the
student was cruel and unacceptable. Actually, all the hitting was
done with love. When Huang-po first hit his student, he was telling
him that there was no point discussing why Bodhidharma came to
China, for the Dharma could not be learned from listening to others
talk about it. When Lin-chi struck his teacher, he was telling him
he now realized that the Dharma could only be accessed through
practice and direct experience.
From
these examples, we see that questioning is an important part of the
Ch’an practice. Very often, the answer seems irrelevant and may
even come in the form of hits and blows. The irrelevance and the
chaos are, in fact, tools to shatter our delusion so that we may see
our true nature.
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3.
Ch’an is sitting meditation
Sitting
meditation is a practice that is also used by the other schools. It
was already popular when the Buddha was alive. After the Buddha
renounced his household life, he practiced meditation for six years,
eventually breaking through to enlightenment under the bodhi tree
one starry night. In the deepest meditative absorption, the Buddha
realized the truth of conditionality and became the fully
enlightened one. Sitting meditation is paramount in unlocking our
true nature.
Bodhidharma
introduced sitting meditation to China. After Bodhidharma arrived in
China, he sat meditating before a wall for nine years. The Sung
dynasty Ch’an master T’ien-tung Ju-ching was of the opinion that
sitting meditation could be one’s sole practice. Among his
students was the Japanese Ch’an master Tao-yuan who introduced the
concept to his people on his return to his homeland. Because of the
insights of these Ch’an masters, sitting meditation soon became an
indispensable tool of the Ch’an school to look within oneself to
see one’s true nature.
The
benefits of a calm mind are not confined to the religious arena.
Staying calm also helps us get through life, especially in moments
of crisis. A calm mind is like calm water—you can see into it. We
often read in newspapers how accident victims credit their survival
to staying calm. In Buddhist literature, there is a humorous story
about the practical benefits of sitting meditation. Once there was a
tofu peddler delivering tofu to a temple. It just so happened that
the temple Ch’an masters were doing sitting meditation. Their
concentration so intrigued him that he wanted to try, so he asked if
he could sit with them. He settled himself in the meditation hall
and began to focus his mind. After the first session of meditation,
he was quite amused and said, “I now recall that the Lee family
has yet to pay me for the tofu I sold them five years ago.” If the
peddler was able to sharpen his mental acuity just after one session
of meditation, can you imagine the wisdom that deep meditative
absorption can uncover?
The
initial benefit of sitting meditation is feeling relaxed and supple.
As we progress, our mind grows more focused, becoming oblivious to
the presence of the body and the world that surrounds us. In this
state, the way to enlightenment becomes crystal clear. When the
waves of a lake are stilled, we can see the reflection of the moon
in the water. When the distractions in our mind are calmed, our
buddha nature becomes apparent.
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C.
How To Practice Sitting Meditation
Sitting
meditation is a state of mind, and as such it is impossible to
describe the experience. The best way to find out about it is to try
it. For experienced practitioners, the external environment has
little bearing, and they can do sitting meditation anywhere.
Beginners, though, should pick a quiet room for best results. The
lighting in the room should not be too bright for it can irritate
the eyes; it should not be too dim either for we may feel lethargic
and sleepy. While the room should be well ventilated, it should not
be drafty and meditators should not sit in the path of a direct
draft. To create the right ambience, we can decorate the room with a
buddha statue and burn incense. In addition to these housekeeping
tips, there are a few other things to pay attention to. It is not a
good idea to do sitting meditation with a full stomach when the body
is busy with the digestive process and feels sluggish. It is best to
eat moderately and wait an hour after a meal. Clothing should be
loose and not restrictive for that can hinder the circulation.
Sitting
meditation involves three major steps: calming the body, the breath,
and the mind. To calm the body, we do sitting mediation in the lotus
position, either a full lotus or half lotus. The full lotus is
sitting with each foot resting on the opposite thigh, as in buddha
statues. The half lotus is when only one foot rests on the other
thigh. Either position may take getting used to, and in the
beginning one can simply sit cross-legged. Lotus position is best
because it anchors the body, like the roots of a tree securing it in
place. It also facilitates calming the mind, a must to enter samadhi[7].
After the body is settled in the lotus position, the hands should be
folded in the lap with the left hand over the right and the two
thumbs slightly touching. The arms should be kept snug to the body.
This hand arrangement can help blood circulation between the left
and right sides of the body. While sitting, the back should be
straight, but not stiff. This helps stretch the chest and abdomen
and provides ample room for the internal organs. The shoulders
should be straight, not folded, and the neck kept close to the
collar. If we do this correctly, the ears and arms form a straight
line. We should also make sure the chin is tucked and the mouth
closed, with the tip of the tongue slightly touching the roof of the
mouth. To make sure we do not fall asleep, the eyes, especially in
the case of beginners, should be slightly opened and focused on a
spot a foot or two ahead.
Next,
we calm the breathing. The most common practice is to count the
breaths, in groups of ten. The idea is to calm the breath, from one
that is rushed and erratic to one that is gentle and effortless.
When the body and breath are tranquil, we focus on calming the mind.
The mind is wild like an untrained horse. But without calming the
mind, the sitting meditation is for naught. We can focus the mind by
contemplating the thirty-two good marks of the Buddha, a kung-an, a
hua-tou, or by reciting a buddha’s name or a mantra. As long as we
focus the mind, which one we choose is of personal preference.
Contemplation
is not thinking and definitely different from not-thinking. To
contemplate, we should let go of any preconceived notions of the
world and focus on the subject at hand. We can look at sitting
meditation as a catharsis to rid ourselves of all discriminations
and motives, giving our true nature the chance to surface. It is as
if someone who was lost suddenly finds himself safely home again. In
deep meditation, there is no distinction of self, the Buddha, or
nirvana. There is only tranquility and the feeling of liberation.
This
is a cursory introduction to the Ch’an school. Ch’an is not
something that can be described in words, but something to be
experienced. We can experience Ch’an in every aspect of our daily
life, whether putting on our clothes, dealing with people, or
managing one’s business. I’ll leave you with this Ch’an
kung-an to illustrate the importance of direct experience.
The
Ch’an master Chi-hsieng was a well-read man. In his many travels,
he was once a student of the Ch’an master Lin-yu, who asked him,
“I know you are a very learned man and have an answer for
everything. Let me ask you: What was your original face before you
were born?”
Chi-hsieng
was stumped, and he could not find the answer in any book. He humbly
asked his teacher, “Venerable, please be so kind as to enlighten
me on this question.”
Lin-yu
answered, “If I tell you the answer, you will not possess the
answer or have learned anything. In fact, you’ll be angry with me
for telling you.” In frustration, Chi-hsieng burned all his books
and left his teacher. He traveled to Nanyeung and contemplated the
question before the grave of Huei-chung, the ancestral imperial
teacher. One day while sweeping the yard, he heard the “ping” of
a stone hitting bamboo. Suddenly, he felt a freedom he had never
known. All his questions were answered. He washed himself and set up
an altar in the direction of his teacher, saying, “Teacher, you
are most compassionate. Had you told me the answer that day, I would
not be feeling this joy today.”
As
we conclude this discussion, I hope you will all find the answer to
your questions. Thank you.
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