ZEN REMARKS (11)

11. The report that a certain Zen Master brought his disciple to great awakening by cutting off one of the disciple's fingers is not the sort of story calculated to give Zen Buddhism a good press in the modern Western world. Taking the story to be literally true, we might attempt to defend the master's action by describing it in terms of tough love, of being cruel to be kind, where the end justifies the means. Or we might see it as a cruel and violent act that only serves to discredit the whole practice of Zen. Either way, we have missed the point. We have failed to take account of the literary form in which this story has come down to us. The story, as we have it, is meant to function as a koan, a meditation device in Zen that is not meant to be taken literally. So in the case of Gutei, who practised One Finger Zen, the story about him cutting off the boy's finger should be read as metaphor. Here we see a disciple who, when questioned about his master's teaching, demonstrated that he had not penetrated beyond its outward form. Hearing of this, the master quickly and decisively negated that form. In Gutei's act of negation, the disciple came to deep understanding.

ZEN REMARKS (10)

10. The history of Zen Buddhism is not lacking in the names of masters whose actions have sent shockwaves through the tradition. Foremost among these is Gutei, or Jushi if you prefer, the revered exponent of One Finger Zen. The story goes that a visitor to Gutei's temple asked the boy attendant what his master taught. The boy immediately raised one finger. When Gutei learnt of the boy's action, he summoned him, got him to hold up a finger and then promptly cut it off. As the boy ran off screaming, Gutei called his name. Stopping and looking back, the boy saw Gutei raise one finger. Thereupon, we are told, the boy attendant had great realization.

ZEN REMARKS (9)

9. The Zen Master's concern is to help the disciple to uncover his or her True Face. Given that each disciple has particular needs and talents, the master needs to be sensitive to these and adapt the teaching accordingly. With this in mind Zen Masters utilize what have come to be called upaya, a technical term meaning 'skilful means'. But even here Zen Masters won't be tied down. Take, for example, the case of the ninth century master Gutei, also known by his Chinese name Jushi. He is chiefly remembered not only because his teaching was so simple but also because it was always the same. It is said that whenever he was asked about Zen he simply raised his finger. 

ZEN REMARKS (8)

8. Guidance in the practice of Zen is ideally found in the master/disciple relationship, and this in the context of a community of practitioners. Down through the centuries this has been the pattern. Examples abound in the literature of Zen. We read, for instance, of a monk in ninth century China going to the pre-eminent master Zhaozhou and saying, 'I have just entered this monastery. Please teach me'. The practice of individual instruction is evident in the case of the thirteenth century master Wumen Huikai. He tells us that when he was in charge of a certain temple he worked with the monks and attempted to lead them along the Way of the Buddha according to their respective needs and capacities. Recognition and respect for the individual's particular needs and capacities is a feature of Zen training. Here it is never a matter of supposing that one size fits all. Anyone serious about practising Zen will seek out the personal guidance of an authentic master.

ZEN REMARKS (7)

7. There is something expedient about what a Zen Master says or does by way of guiding a disciple to the realization of his or her True Self. Much depends on the particular needs and abilities of the disciple who stands before the master. The tailoring of the teaching to a particular disciple at a particular time in a particular place is clearly exemplified in a story that has come down to us about the way old Master Zhaozhou responded to what is perhaps the most famous question in Zen. To one monk's question as to whether a dog has Buddha-nature or not, Zhaozhou answered 'Yes'. To the same question put to him by another monk he replied 'No'.

ZEN REMARKS (6)

6. The story of the monk doomed to five hundred re-births as a fox was first told by the T'ang Dynasty Chinese master Hyakujo Ekai. This is how he is known in the world of Japanese Zen. Nowadays we are getting used to meeting him as Pai-chang Huai-hai or even Baizhang Huaihai. And we are told that both these spellings of his Chinese name are to be pronounced 'Bye-jong'. The case is similar with his distinguished disciple Obaku, who went on to become a master in his own right and was to declare that 'in all the land of T'ang there is no Zen teacher'. Obaku's Chinese name is variously written as Huang-po Hsi-jun or Huangbo Xijun. Both versions are pronounced 'Hwong-bwaw'. All very confusing for the non-scholars among us. As for the diacritical marks that I have omitted (limitations of my keyboard), let us not go there. But one thing is clear: in the discourse of Zen, names as designators are far from rigid. Luckily for us, Zen as a 'special transmission outside the scriptures' is 'not dependent on words and letters'.

ZEN REMARKS (5)

5. Inasmuch as a Zen Master can be said to give teachings, they are nevertheless teachings that can't be taught. Strictly speaking, a Zen Master should not be referred to as a Zen teacher. An old Chinese master, with a clear understanding of the matter, rightly declared that 'in all the land of T'ang there is no Zen teacher'.

Another old master invented a story to articulate how, after many years as a 'teacher', he came to understand that he had been on the wrong track. He told of how, in the course of giving a series of talks to his monks, he became aware of an alien presence in the lecture hall. The disturbing presence presented itself as an old-man-who-was-not-now-a-man though in the distant past it had been human. Indeed, it had been the master of the current master's very own monastery. It confessed that something had gone wrong way back then. The former master, when asked a question about causation, had failed to respond from the perspective of someone mastered by Zen. Rather he had answered as a teacher who believed himself to have mastered Zen. He had declared that an enlightened one does not fall under the yoke of causation. Consequently he found himself doomed to undergo five hundred re-births as a fox and was now seeking release from that cycle. For the current master the story that he was now telling represented his own career as a professional Zen teacher, that is, a career in which he had come to see himself as a fraud, a trickster, a giver of Zen teachings. Now, half way through his latest lecture series, it had become imperative for him to confront and own the trickster dimension of himself. The antinomian implications of the view that a fully enlightened person is not subject to causation were suddenly and forcibly borne in upon him, implications that he now realized were intolerable. By confronting and acknowledging his shadow self the current master found himself freed from the secret dominance of that shadow self. His presentation of the Dharma was no longer dependent on words and letters. This brought about a change in his presence that was immediately noticed by his leading disciple. This led the disciple to acknowledge the master by slapping him in the face. The master responded with uproarious laughter. The disciple in question went on to become a master in his own right, a master who one day would declare that 'in all the land of T'ang there is no Zen teacher'.