Zen as a Special Buddhist Art

Esta página en español: ..zen-como-arte-especial.htm

 
 

Why is Zen a Special Art?

III. Now we come to the third point in our discussion: Why is Zen a special Buddhist "art" of expressing the Prajna-Truth? The answer should now be more obvious. Zen is an "art" in the sense that, to express itself, it follows its own intuitions and inspirations, but not dogmas and rules. At times it appears to be very grave and solemn, at others trivial and gay, plain and direct, or enigmatic and "roundabout." When Zen Masters preach they do not always do so with their mouths, but with their hands and legs, with symbolic signals, or with concrete actions. They shout, strike, and push, and when questioned they sometimes run away, or simply keep their mouths shut and pretend to be dumb. Such antics have no place in rhetoric, philosophy, or religion, and can best be described as "art."

This unorthodox and radical "Zen art" is applied, roughly speaking, for four different purposes:

1. To bring the individual disciple to direct Enlightenment.

2. To illustrate a certain Buddhist teaching.

3. To express the Zen humor and wit.

4. To test the depth and genuineness of the disciple's understanding and realization.

Some examples of the first group are given below:

A. One night Te Shan was attending Master Lung Tan, [1] who said: "It is now late. Why don't you go back to your room and retire?" Te Shan then said good night to his Master, and went out. But immediately he returned, saying: "It is very dark outside." Lung Tan lit a candle and handed it to Te Shan, then suddenly blew it out. At once Te Shan was awakened.

[1. Lung Tan, aka Lung-t'an, aka Longtan Chongxin (9th century) terebess.hu/zen/longtan.html ]

B. A monk called Hung Chou came to visit Ma Tsu and asked, "What is the meaning of Bodhidharma's coming from the West?" Ma Tsu said: "Bow down to me, first." As the monk was prostrating himself, Ma Tsu gave him a vigorous kick in the chest. The monk was at once enlightened. He stood up, clapped his hands and, laughing loudly, cried: "Oh, how wonderful this is, how marvelous this is! Hundreds and thousands of Samadhis and infinite wonders of the Truth are now easily realized on the tip of a single hair!" He then made obeisance to Ma Tsu. Afterwards he said to people: "Since I received that kick from Ma Tsu, I have always been cheerful and laughing."

Lin Chi

Lin Chi

C. Lin Chi [Linji Yixuan] once lived in the monastery of Huang Po. One day he was urged by the Chief Monk to raise some question before the Master, Huang Po. Lin Chi asked: "What is the gist of Buddhism?" As soon as he spoke, Huang Po beat him. Lin Chi raised this question three times and was beaten three times. Thereupon he decided to leave the monastery. Before his departure, he said to the Chief Monk: "Because of your request I was beaten three times. I am now going elsewhere to learn Zen." The Chief Monk replied: "You had better say good-bye to the Master before you leave." Then, going to Huang Po privately, he said: "The man who asked the question yesterday is a novice, but he seems to be a very good and sincere fellow. If he comes and says good-bye to you, please give him some instruction." The next day when Lin Chi came to say farewell to Huang Po, he was told to visit Ta Yu. Upon Lin Chi's arrival at the residence of Ta Yu, the latter asked him: "From whence do you come?" "From Huang Po." "What does Huang Po teach?" "I asked him three times to give me the gist of Buddhism, but was beaten every time. I do not know what is wrong with my question." Ta Yu replied: "Huang Po is kind, like a mother. What he intended to do was to awaken you thoroughly. How stupid of you to come here and ask me these silly questions!" Hearing this, Lin Chi [was immediately awakened], and exclaimed: "Oh, now I know that after all there isn't very much in Huang Po's Buddhism!" Ta Yu caught his arm and cried: "You ghost who makes water in his own bed! Just now you asked me what your fault was. Now you are denouncing Huang Po's Buddhism. What truth have you seen that you dare to make such a statement?" Lin Chi immediately hit Ta Yu with his fists three times. Ta Yu fended him off, saying: "Your master is Huang Po; this has nothing to do with me." Lin Chi then returned to Huang Po. As soon as Huang Po saw him coming, he remarked: "Come and go, come and go, when will all this end?" Lin Chi replied: "This is all because of your kindness to me." Huang Po then cried spitefully: "Confound that long-tongued Ta Yu! The next time I see him I will beat him soundly for this!" "You don't have to wait until you see him," said Lin Chi. "You can beat him right now!" Huang Po commented: "This crazy man now dares to come here and beard the lion in its den!" Lin Chi then shouted at Huang Po, who told him to go away.

The above koans show that there is no definite method that the Zen Master must use to bring his disciples to Enlightenment. A kick, a blow, a simple remark – anything will do if the state of mind of the disciple is ripe and ready to receive this final push. It goes without saying, however, that Zen kicks, blows, and "jargon" are not what they seem. If Enlightenment could be reached simply in this way, the world's slave camps and prisons would have become factories constantly turning out hundreds of enlightened beings! Again, if, merely by listening to a certain Zen remark anyone could easily be raised to the state of Enlightenment, as some people happily believe, it would be well to preserve on a few long-playing records the well-known remarks that have been effective in bringing Enlightenment, and to listen to them until we ourselves are enlightened.

Now we come to the second group: How is this "Zen art" applied to illustrate certain Buddhist teachings?

A. An old man attended Pai Chang's [Baizhang Huaihai] sermons a number of times. One day after a particular sermon, all the other listeners left, but this old man stayed on. Pai Chang then asked him: "Who are you?" The old man replied: "I am not a human being. When living on this mountain during the time of the last kalpa, I was once asked by one of my students: 'Are the great yogis still bound by the law of cause and effect?' I answered: 'No, they are not so bound.' Because of this misleading reply I created much bad Karma which caused me to become a fox for five hundred successive lives. Now I beseech you to give me a correct answer, so that I may be set free from continued births as a fox." Pai Chang said to him: "All right. Now you ask me the original question." The old man then said: "Are the great yogis still bound by cause and effect?" Whereupon, Pai Chang answered: "The great yogis are not blind to the law of cause and effect!" Hearing this, the old man was at once awakened. He prostrated himself before Pai Chang and said: "I am now freed from my bad Karma."

No matter whether this is true or symbolic, it reflects typically the Zen attitude toward Karma, or the Law of Causation. For it points out that Zen does not disavow the basic teaching of this law which is accepted by all Buddhist schools as one of the paramount doctrines of Buddhist teaching. This shows that Zen is not nihilistic or "out-of-harness" as some people think it to be. Contrary to the belief of outsiders, Zen followers are often more earnest in performing their religious duties and more rigid in their moral conduct than others. They are not, in any sense, unscrupulous people. Zen brings freedom, but not corruption and dissoluteness. Enlightenment does not make one blind to Karmic laws, nor does it produce evildoers and transgressors.

B. Prime Minister Kuo Tze I of the Tang Dynasty was an outstanding statesman as well as a distinguished general. His success in both political and military service made him the most admired national hero of his day. But fame, power, wealth, and success could not distract the prime minister from his keen interest in and devotion to Buddhism. Regarding himself as a plain, humble, and devoted Buddhist, he often visited his favorite Zen Master to study under him. He and the Zen Master seemed to get along very well. The fact that he held the position of prime minister, an exalted status in those days of old China, seemed to have no influence on their association. Apparently no noticeable trace of politeness on the Zen Master's part or of vain loftiness on the part of the minister existed in their relationship, which seemed to be the purely religious one of a revered Master and an obedient disciple. One day, however, when Kuo Tze I, as usual, paid a visit to the Zen Master, he asked the following question: "Your Reverence, how does Buddhism explain egotism?" The Zen Master's face suddenly turned blue, and in an extremely haughty and contemptuous manner he addressed the premier as follows: "What are you saying, you numbskull?" This unreasonable and unexpected defiance so hurt the feelings of the prime minister that a slight, sullen expression of anger began to show on his face. The Zen Master then smiled and said: "Your Excellency, this is egotism!"

The third group under discussion illustrates the manner in which the "art of Zen" may be applied to the expression of humor and wit.

A. Su Tung Po, the celebrated poet of the Sung Dynasty, was a devout Buddhist. He had a very close friend named Fo Ying, a very brilliant Zen teacher. Fo Ying's temple was on the west bank of the Yang Tse River, while Su Tung Po's house stood on the east bank. One day Su Tung Po paid a visit to Fo Ying and, finding him absent, sat down in his study to await his return. Becoming bored with waiting, he began at length to scribble on a sheet of paper that he found lying on the desk, the last words being: "Su Tung Po, the great Buddhist who cannot be moved, even by the combined forces of the Eight Worldly Winds." [Endnote 1-4]

After waiting a while longer, Su Tung Po got tired and left for home. When Fo Ying returned and saw Su Tung Po's composition on the desk, he added the following line: "Rubbish! What you have said is no better than breaking wind!" and sent it to Su Tung Po. When Su Tung Po read this outrageous comment, he was so furious that he at once took a boat, crossed the river, and hurried to the temple again. Catching hold of Fo Ying's arm, he cried: "What right have you to denounce me in such language? Am I not a devout Buddhist who cares only for the Dharma? Are you so blind after knowing me for so long?" Fo Ying looked at him quietly for a few seconds, then smiled and said slowly: "Su Tung Po, the great Buddhist who claims that the combined forces of the Eight Winds can hardly move him an inch, is now carried all the way to the other side of the Yang Tse River by a single puff of wind from the anus!" [b]

B. One day the King of Yen visited the Master Chao Chou, [Zhaozhou_Congshen] who did not even get up when he saw him coming. The king asked: "Which is higher, a worldly king, or the 'King of Dharma'?" Chao Chou replied: "Among human kings I am higher; among the kings of Dharma, I am also higher." Hearing this surprising answer, the king was very pleased. The next day a general came to visit Chao Chou, who not only got up from his seat when he saw the general coming, but also showed him more hospitality in every way than he had shown to the king. After the general had left, Chao Chou's attendant monks asked him: "Why did you get up from your seat when a person of lower rank came to see you, yet did not do so for one of the highest rank?" Chao Chou replied: "You don't understand. When people of the highest quality come to see me, I do not get up from my seat; when they are of middle quality, I do; but when they are of the lowest quality, I go outside of the gate to receive them."

C. One day Chao Chou and Wen Yuan played a debating game. They agreed that whoever won the argument would be the loser, and whoever lost the argument would be the winner. As a prize, the loser should give the winner some fruit. "You speak first," said Wen Yuan to Chao Chou. So the following dialogue ensued: Chao Chou: I am an ass. Wen Yuan: I am the stomach of that ass. Chao Chou: I am the feces that the ass has dropped. Wen Yuan: I am a worm in the feces. Chao Chou: What are you doing in the feces? Wen Yuan: I spent my summer vacation there. Chao Chou: All right. Now give me the fruit

The following story is a typical anecdote used by Zen Buddhists to ridicule those fake "Masters" who have no genuine understanding, and also deride those ignorant students who blindly follow the hocus-pocus of Zen imitators. It is an interesting story, illustrating how Zen can become downright senseless folly in the hands of the wrong persons, a not uncommon case nowadays.

D. A monk called himself the "Master of Silence." He was actually a fraud and had no genuine understanding. To sell his humbug Zen, he had two eloquent attendant monks to answer questions for him; but he himself never uttered a word, as if to show his inscrutable "Silent Zen." One day, during the absence of his two attendants, a pilgrim monk came to him and asked: "Master, what is the Buddha?" Not knowing what to do or to answer, in his confusion he could only look desperately around in all directions – east and west, here and there – for his missing mouthpieces. The pilgrim monk, apparently satisfied, then asked him: "What is the Dharma?" He could not answer this question either, so he first looked up at the ceiling and then down at the floor, calling for help from heaven and hell. Again the monk asked: "What is the Sangha?" Now the "Master of Silence" could do nothing but close his eyes. Finally the monk asked: "What is blessing?" In desperation, the "Master of Silence" helplessly spread his hands to the questioner as a sign of surrender. But the pilgrim monk was very pleased and satisfied with this interview. He left the "Master" and set out again on his journey. On the road the pilgrim met the two attendant monks on their way home, and began telling them enthusiastically what an enlightened being this "Master of Silence" was. He said: "I asked him what Buddha is. He immediately turned his face to the cast and then to the west, implying that human beings are always looking for Buddha here and there, but actually Buddha is not to be found either in the east or in the west. I then asked him what the Dharma is. In answer to this question he looked up and down, meaning that the truth of Dharma is a totality of equalness, there being no discrimination between high and low, while both purity and impurity can be found therein. In answering my question as to what the Sangha was, he simply closed his eyes and said nothing. That was a clue to the famous saying:

If one can close his eyes and sleep soundly in the deep recesses of the cloudy mountains,
He is then a great monk.

"Finally, in answering my last question, 'What is the blessing?' he stretched out his arms and showed both his hands to me. This implied that he was stretching out his helping hands to guide sentient beings with his blessings. Oh, what an enlightened Zen Master! How profound is his teaching!" When the attendant monks returned, the "Master of Silence" scolded them thus: "Where have you been all this time? A while ago I was embarrassed to death, and almost ruined, by an inquisitive pilgrim!"

top of page

 

Testing the Disciples

The fourth point about the "art of Zen" covers the manner in which the Zen Masters test the understanding of their disciples. These tests take many forms, including both the "behavioral" and the "verbal."

The behavioral tests are conducted by means of radical and unexpected actions, the verbal tests by the so-called "crucial-verbal-contest" (Chinese: chi feng wen ta). [c] The latter is perhaps the most popular technique, widely applied by all Zen Buddhists. The Chinese word wen means "questioning," and ta is "answering," so that wen ta is "questioning-answering" or loosely "conversation." But the phrase chi feng is very difficult to translate, because it has manifold and subtle meanings. Literally, chi is "crucial," "critical," or the "key point," etc., and feng is "the tip of a sharp weapon"; so that chi feng means literally "crucial-sharp tip (or point)." This proves that the Zen "question and answer" are sharp and pointed, like the tips of two keen weapons point to point. Chi feng, therefore, implies that the Zen question is like a sharp, needle-pointed rapier constantly threatening to pierce to the heart without mercy; and that as soon as a poignant question is thrust at one, one must parry it and instantly return an answer just as pointed. When a Zen question is asked there is no time for ratiocination or "seeking." Any answer that is not instantaneously, spontaneously, and effortlessly given is not acceptable to Zen. Therefore, as Zen questions are often unanswerable and baffling, when the student fails to reply immediately because he is trying to find the "right" answer by means of logical reasoning, this time-lag immediately exposes his lack of inner understanding. Thus, no matter how "correct" his answer may appear to be, it will not be accepted by an enlightened Zen Master. This "crucial-verbal-contest," therefore, is a special technique, devised long ago by the Zen Masters to test the inner understanding of their students. An enlightened being should be able to answer immediately any baffling question put before him, easily and without hesitation. The answer should be like lightning, like a flashing spark struck from a stone. There is no room for "cultivation," no time for "framing."

At this point I would like to relate one of my own experiences to illustrate the importance of the time element in the Zen style of conversation. Not long ago I met a theologian, and we began to discuss Buddhism, Hinduism, and other religions. He insisted that all religions are, on the highest level, basically identical, the only difference being a semantic one. He illustrated his point by saying that Moksha is called Nirvana in Buddhism, while "Buddhahood" is called Atman in Hinduism and "the Godhead" in Christianity. "The great truth is One," he said. "All things came from and will return to the Great One. This may be expounded in different ways, but the central Truth remains the same. And so on. I did not want to continue an argument which could go on endlessly, so I put before him the old Zen koan of Chao Chou: "If all things are to be returned to the One, to where is this One to be returned?" He was unexpectedly baffled, and failed to give me an answer. But the next day he came to sec me and said: "Now I have the right answer to your question: All things are to be returned to the One, and this One is to be returned to all things." I said to him: "According to Zen, your answer came much too late. You should have received thirty blows a long time ago." He replied: "If I had given you this answer yesterday, immediately after the question was raised, what would your comment have been then?" I said: "All right; now let us follow the Zen tradition and raise the question once more." Whereupon I asked him: "If all things are to be returned to the One, to where is this One to be returned?" He answered: "It is to be returned to all things!" To this I merely replied: "What time-wasting nonsense!"

My friend did not make any further comment, and the discussion of Buddhism versus other religions ended right there.

A few other stories are selected here to illustrate further how the Zen verbal-contest is used for "testing."

A. Yung Chia, [Yongjia Xuanjue] a scholar of the Tien Tai school, gained his realization through reading the Vimalakirti Sutra [2] without a teacher.

[2. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vimalakirti_Sutra ]

In order to find an enlightened Master to certify his understanding, he came to the Sixth Patriarch [Hui Neng]. As soon as he saw the Patriarch, he walked around him three times and then stood before him without making the customary obeisances. Hui Neng said: "A monk is supposed to obey the rules of the Three Thousand Good Manners and the Eighty Thousand Graceful Conducts. Where does your Reverence come from that you exhibit such great pride?" Yung Chia replied: "The matter of life and death is great, and transiency lays hold of one quickly." Hui Neng: "Why, then, don't you get into the Essence of No-birth? [Endnote 1-5]

Would not that be the quickest way to liberation?" Yung Chia: "The Essence itself is No-birth, and liberation is beyond 'slow or quick.'" Hui Neng: "Yes. You are right." Yung Chia then bowed down to the Sixth Patriarch, bidding him farewell, and prepared to leave. But Hui Neng stopped him and asked: "Aren't you leaving too soon?" Yung Chia: "I have never moved since the beginning; how can I be leaving too soon or too late?" Hui Neng: "Who is the one who knows the unmoved?" Yung Chia: "The sage knows this by himself." Hui Neng: "Oh, you are very well acquainted indeed with the meaning of No-birth!" Yung Chia: "How is it possible that the truth of No-birth could have any 'meaning'?" Hui Neng: "If there is no meaning, how then can it be understood?" Yung Chia: "To understand it is not to get the meaning of it." Hui Neng: "Well said, well said. Now please remain in my monastery for one night."

If the reader carefully ponders the above story he will find that in every remark the Sixth Patriarch made he laid a trap for Yung Chia; but Yung Chia, an enlightened being, sensed these traps and immediately changed his position from the attacked to the attacker. He was therefore highly praised by the Sixth Patriarch.

B. Tung Shan went to visit Ming Che. Ming Che asked him: "Where have you been lately?" Tung Shan answered: "In Hu Nan Province." Ming Che: "What is the surname of the governor there?" Tung Shan: "I do not know." Ming Che: "What is his first name then?" Tung Shan: "I do not know his first name either." Ming Che: "Doesn't he administer his office at all?" Tung Shan: "He has plenty of subordinate officers to do the work." Ming Che: "Doesn't he come out from and go in to his office at all?" Tung Shan answered nothing, and walked out. The next day Ming Che said to him: "You did not answer my question yesterday. If you can say something satisfactory today I'll invite you to dinner." Tung Shan replied: "The governor is too dignified to come out of his office." Ming Che was satisfied with the answer, and a dinner was prepared for Tung Shan.

Outwardly, the conversation between the two was simple and plain. It seems to have been without any significance. But in fact, every remark they made had a double meaning, alluding to the truth of Zen. This story shows how the Zen Buddhists are in the habit of testing one another daily in simple talks. They are naturally trained experts in the Zen art of verbal-contest. They start to play the game whenever they have a chance. It goes without saying that the participant in the Zen "contest" must know the game first in order to match his rival. An outsider will either miss the point, or become bewildered at what is going on.

The "Behavioral Test" is often conducted through radical and astonishing maneuvers, as shown in the following stories:

A. A monk went to Te Shan, who closed the door in his face. The monk knocked and Te Shan asked, "Who is it?" The monk said, "The lion cub." Te Shan then opened the door and jumped onto the neck of the monk as though riding, and cried, "You beast! Now where do you go?" The monk failed to answer.

The term "lion cub" is used by Zen Buddhists to denote a disciple well able to understand Zen Truth; when the Masters praise or prove a disciple's understanding, this term is often used. In this case, the monk presumptuously called himself "the lion cub," but when Te Shan gave him a test by treating him like a real lion cub – when he rode on his neck, and then asked him a question – the monk failed to answer. This proved that the monk lacked the genuine understanding he claimed to possess.

B. Chao Chou was once working as a cook in the monastery. One day he barred the kitchen door from the inside, and started a fire. In a short time the room filled with smoke and flames. He then cried out: "Fire! Fire! Help! Help!" All the monks in the monastery immediately gathered round, but they could not get in because the door was locked. Chao Chou said: "Say the right word and I will open the door. Otherwise, I won't!" Nobody could give an answer. Then Master Pu Yuan handed a lock to Chao Chou through the window. Chao Chou opened the door.

As not one of the monks in the monastery could give a proper answer to Chao Chou's astonishing act, their lack of inner understanding was thus fully exposed. But the interesting question here is: What should the monks have said to Chao Chou? What was the "correct" reply to his challenge? A solution to this koan has been suggested as follows:

The monks might have said to Chao Chou: "You answer the following question first, then we shall answer yours: 'Who can untie the bell-string on the neck of a tiger?'" Chao Chou replies: "The person who first tied it." The monks then say: "You have answered your own silly question. Now open the door!"

C. One day Teng Yin Feng was pushing a wheelbarrow along a narrow road in the middle of which Ma Tsu was sitting with one of his legs stretched out, thus blocking the passage of the wheelbarrow. Teng Yin Feng said: "Master, please retract your leg!" Ma Tsu replied: "I have already stretched out my leg, so there is no retraction." Teng Yin Feng then said: "I am already pushing my wheelbarrow forward, so there is no retraction either." Saying this, he pushed the wheelbarrow over Ma Tsu's leg and injured it. Later, when they met again in the meditation hall of the temple, Ma Tsu, who had a huge ax in his hand, raised it, and said: "The one who injured my leg today, come forward!" Teng Yin Feng went up to Ma Tsu and put his neck right under the ax as if willing to receive the blow. Ma Tsu then put down his ax.

This story vividly demonstrates the courage and straightforwardness of Zen. However, these symbolic acts and the daring spirit shown should not be considered irresponsible behavior or showing off. Although they have shocked many good-hearted people, they demonstrate how distinct the Zen tradition is from all other Buddhist teaching. This story shows that Teng Yin Feng had passed his Master's test and proved himself to be a worthy disciple, while Ma Tsu demonstrated true mastership of Zen.

top of page