The Zennist

The gap between two truths

It is well known that Nagarjuna, who lived in the late 2nd century, engaged in debates that were called destructive (vitandâ).  Such a tactic is close to skepticism.  In other words, Nagarjuna refuted his opponent's thesis without having one of his own.  But I would argue that, in fact, Nagarjuna did have a thesis—an unusual thesis. It was the ultimate truth (paramartha-satya) which, being unconditioned, could not be debated since all debates were by nature conditioned, revolving around conventional truth (samvriti-satya). This all comes from Nagarjuna’s two truth theory which, I hasten to add, is not without some problems.  

To understand Nagarjuna's two truths we first have to consider the distinction between them.  Conventional truth is about non-definitive, verbal and conceptual teachings, which include debates. Hopefully this will help us to ultimate truth which can't be verbalized or conceptualized.  But there are no guarantees of success.  

This brings us to the real problem with Nagarjuna's two truths. How do we bridge them? How does one go from conceptual, non-definitive verbal and conceptual teachings to the big enchilada of ultimate truth or paramartha-satya?  Even to explain the bridging process falls under the heading of conceptual.  To be honest, there is a broad ugly ditch between the Buddha's conventional teachings, which are supposed to lead us to realizing, personally, paramartha-satya, and the direct realization of ultimate truth, itself.

Nagarjuna must have realized that there is no actual way to bridge the gap anymore than one can go from waves to water since there are really no waves at all when compared with the element of water.  Conventional truth is but a configuration of ultimate truth like a vase which is made of clay.  Conventional truth points in the general direction of where we must spiritually look, but the direction of our looking is not paramartha-satya.  We still have to go there on our own, transcending all appearances.

Twilight of the gods

If God is an idea or belief, we erect plenty of Gods and almost all of them bite the dust one day, simply because it is the nature of conditioned things or the same, dependent originations, to perish through change. For example, the "toddler me" has perished. I am an old dude now.  Eventually, the old dude will perish.  The hard part is to see what doesn't perish and follow this instead of our invented Gods.

The Gods we invent can, and generally do, get us into a lot of trouble, eventually.  The God of "life should be fun," a God many today worship, is a troublesome God along with other Gods such as money, sexual pleasure, and gluttony, to name just a few Gods.  Even the nations of the world erect Gods and fight wars on their behalf.  There are even God wars, otherwise known as paradigm wars fought mainly among scientists.

To realize our true nature which is the unconditioned, pure Mind, we need to give up our Gods or better yet, surpass them.  This can be represented as a kind of twilight of the Gods (or closer to Nietzsche's twilight of the idols).  All these Gods, which live in our head, have to be transcended by way of seeing what is truly ultimate.  Let's call it, the stuff these Gods are made of.

For the adept who would surpass all Gods, to find the *stuff* from which they are composed, he or she must go the way of the parivrajaka, meaning a homeless wanderer, in this case, a wanderer with no Gods to worship.  Only then is one truly homeless even when they live and work in the madding world of the 21st century.  From this kind of life, the wanderer's tejodhatu samadhi will consume all the Gods in the element of spiritual fire (tejodhatu)—Something right out of Wagner’s opera, The Ring.

The invitation

The discourses of the Buddha and especially Zen sermons act as an invitation, that is, they open the way to spiritual knowledge which is about our primordial self.  This invitation is, however, special.  Not all are invited because not everyone resonates with the Buddha’s discourses or the various Zen sermons.  Most, regrettably, have been invited to participate in a non-spiritual culture which is far from adequate for all of its citizens, especially, those who are not oriented towards winning wealth.

This special invitation is for those who wish to look deeper within themselves; who have faith that the life of appearances, including their uneasy, and sometimes, tumultuous thoughts, in the long run, will give them only unhappiness.

At first, it is extremely difficult to make sense of the way that the invitation opens for us.  It hasn’t as yet dawned upon us that we have to awaken, personally, to a spiritual state of being which is not abstract but which, in every sense of the word, is more real than our world of appearances.  

Very much, we are still heavily oriented toward appearances and their more subtle kinsmen, concepts which act more like guardians of appearance.  It is like the difference between studying about Sedona Arizona; looking at all the pictures of it and reading about it, forming various ideas about it, and actually being there.  We expect the spiritual invitation to be about getting us there, so we are at one with our true self or nature instead of staying here, in the world of appearances.

You don't just read

The consumer reader who becomes interested in Zen Buddhism is far different than the religious reader.  He or she doesn’t want to spend a great deal of time pondering the religious text if at all.  The text the consumer reader wants is more like an interesting magazine article.  The depth of interest here is much like being on a tourist bus in Washington D.C. or London; the content should be easy to engage with.  One should come away from consumer reading with new information.

With religious reading, which is more connected with “study” in the sense of applying one’s mental faculties to the acquisition of knowledge, religious reading is always vertical in terms of depth.  It requires of us that we submit ourselves to introspection seeing where the religious ideas lie within us.  Here Paul J. Griffiths gives us a peek into Buddhist reading which is quite different from consumer reading. 

"Shâstragrahana, learning a work, was a matter of ears, memory, and mouth. Also, the kind of attention paid to works during this period evident in the anthologizing of Nagarjuna and Sântideva, and in the commenting of Sthiramati and Ratnâkarasânti—is clearly akin to that characteristic of religious reading. The works are read (heard), reread, memorized, pondered upon, excerpted, commented upon, chewed over, smelled, and incorporated. This is what religious readers do; it is not what consumerist readers do" (Paul J. Griffiths, Religious Reading: The Place of Reading in the Practice of Religion (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 147).

Reading texts as we moderns understand the idea is not the same as tackling a Buddhist Sutra.  We have to ponder—not just read—a sutra like the Lankavatara Sutra—and it only makes perfect sense when we have awakened to the cardinal essence of the Buddha’s teaching.  Until that time, our own ideas are more like barriers or jungle vines which impede our forward progress.

Buddhist texts are not trying to give the reader Buddhism in a nutshell or Buddhism made easy.  It is the same with Zen texts which are drawn, primarily, from various discourses of the Buddha.  This, I hasten to inject, is where study comes into the picture.  But this is a special kind of study.  It is about our true nature, or the same, the One Mind.  The special and profound intuition of this nature grants the adept special access into the Buddha’s discourses.

 

Buddha's cave

Speaking in Buddhist terms, for those of us who are familiar with Plato's allegory of the cave in his work the Republic (514a–520a), we can think of the Buddha as one who has liberated himself from Plato's cave by seeing the luminous Mind who then elects to return to the cave and rescue those still in the cave who are chained in such a way that they cannot move their heads except to look at a false reality which they are certain is true reality!  They have no idea that what they seeing are merely dependent originations. 

The task of rescuing these deluded, entrapped beings who are certain that what they see is real is, needless to say, both a challenging and a vexing task even for a Buddha (the canon tells us this—no miracles here). The Herculean task our Buddha faces is raising the mind of the inmates in the cave from their deluded certitude to absolute knowledge.  

Such knowledge consists in awaking to the very substance or essence of the illusory, phenomenal world which is luminous and transcendent; which is a power beyond what the inmates can imagine.  In a way, it is like saying the light is trying to liberate the darkness in which the darkness, certain of itself, greatly fears the light.

Each inmate has the ability to leave the cave just like the Buddha did.  In fact, the Buddha is there to help all the inmates escape if only they will believe what he says.  Unfortunately, many don’t believe what he says.  Nevertheless, the Buddha decided to explain the delusion which entraps beings which gives them a false certitude and also the expedient means for getting out of the cave as he had done.

Of course, we really don’t live in a cave.  But we are very much attached to a dependently originated world plus our thoughts, both of which are not true reality.  We are unable to break the chains of darkness which bind us so that we might enter the luminous essence from which illusions are made, which is unconditioned and undying.  If we do not choose to do this, then we are forced to live a life doomed, so to speak, to the cave of our willful ignorance.

 

Sectarianism in Zen

The beginning of Chan (Zen) in China can be considered more of a school or a realization (S., siddhanta/zong [宗]) than a sect.  In this regard, it would be wrong to view Chan as a sect which can be thought of as a dissenting religious body with notable doctrinal differences from other sects.  

Sectarianism, on the other hand, seems to be an outstanding mark of Japanese Buddhist traditions. For example, there is the Rinzai sect, or the Soto sect, or the Tendai sect, and so on, all of which maintain their own unique doctrines and turf (at one time even an army as in the example of Tendai).

However, Chinese historical and cultural forces are different than Japanese ones.  Chinese schools of Buddhism can be thought of as loose groups of practitioners who focus on particular aspects of the Buddha's teachings all of which falls under the overarching tradition of Mahayana Buddhism.  By these aspects we mean expedient methods or the same, skillful means.  

We note that Bodhidharma was called a Tripitaka Dharma master which meant that he probably  had extensive knowledge of the Mahayana canon.  He was also a Dhyâna master which meant that he taught his students how to realize their true nature or Buddha Mind.  His emphasis on the Lankavatara Sutra as representing his school's underlying message is what made his school or siddhanta stand out.  But it was not actually different say, from other schools such as Tiantai (天台) which fell within the four corners of Chan according to Chan master Zongmi (Tsung-mi).

Unfortunately, in the West we seem to be going in the Japanese direction which gets into sectarianism in the example of the narrow focus of the popular Dogen's Soto school with it emphasis on being solely engrossed in sitting (J., shikan-taza 只管-打坐 ) as if sitting is the alpha and omega of Buddhism!  To be frank, I much prefer the Chinese way of doing religion especially Zen!  There is, of course the outer symbolic form with its history and mythology.  But there is also the inner form which is about realizing the unconditioned Mind or the essence of Mind, directly.

The sentient principle

 Not only Buddhist scholars and scholar monks, but average Buddhists are unfamiliar with the the Nirukta which is probably the worlds oldest treatise on etymology, philology and semantics which happens to predates Buddhism.  Many terms are discussed in it. Among these important terms is “âtman” which the author of the Nirukta, Yaska, says is the ultimate sentient principle (cetana-tattva). 

Cetana can also be translated into English as animate. In Nikayan Buddhism âtman, which in Pali is attâ (which is borrowed from Prakrit) has more of a cetana flavor than something like an 'individual' or a psychological ego.  Here is what I mean. 

The five skandhas consisting of material shape, feeling, perception, volitional formations and consciousness, are not the sentient principle which in Pali would be anattâ (insentient).  If anything, we can think of these aggregates as modes of the sentient principle.  The skandhas, themselves, while being conditioned are essentially lifeless. The Buddha even called them murderous. 

To attach to the skandhas as being sentient (âtman) is, according to the Buddha, to invite suffering and samsara.  Carrying this over to the subject of Buddha-nature, which is a notion that latter appears in Mahayana Buddhism, each of us is fundamentally this principle.  Put another way, primordially all beings are fundamentally this animate principle. Suffering arises when beings attach to the animated world (the conditioned world).

Now whatever Buddhism has come to be, it is greatly misunderstood if it is believed the Buddha denied such a sentient principle which, by default, leaves only the animated, conditioned world, including the five skandhas which belong to Mara, the Buddhist devil.  No such explicit denial can be found in either the older portions of the Buddha’s discourses or the later ones.  Denial of a sentient principle falls under the banner of materialism which is closely followed by annihilationism.

Our deluded seeker

Being a deluded seeker is an easy trap to fall into.  It is like falling into a big hole.  The terrible thing about this hole is it is difficult to get out of.  What led me to this was the question of nirvana which describes the gnosis of the absolute (which in Buddhism comes by many different names).  In particular it was this verse from Nagarjuna’s Yuktisastika, the Sixty Verses of Argument.

"Existence and nirvana: These two are not [really] to be found. [Instead,] nirvana [may be] defined as the thorough knowledge of existence."

Nagarjuna was not at his best when he said this.  However, for a deluded seeker this is perfect.  Nirvana means the thorough knowledge of existence (samsara).  Nothing to realize; certainly not something undying or blissful.  The deluded seeker is caught up in an abstraction (our big hole). He has no way to get out of his dark abstraction.  But Nagarjuna was on his game when he said:

“Nirvana is of the uncreated realm while existence and non-existence are of the created realm” (MMK XXV, 13).

So we put it to our deluded seeker, “Have you awakened to the uncreated realm?”  The answer is of course he hasn’t.  He can then answer back and say that Nagarjuna said, “Nirvana  is nothing essentially different from samsara.”  Again, our deluded seeker is back into his abstract enlightenment—the big hole.  In his samsara nirvana he peels his onions, carries water, chops wood or uses a chainsaw mindfully—this is all enlightenment to him.  Yes, his ordinary mind is the Buddha mind.

But not once has our deluded seeker gone deep inside of his mind of birth and death so that he might penetrate through this seeming oppressive veil and reach the unconditioned Mind.  No—he is not going to give up the mind he was born with which is the mind of birth and death.  His reading of Zen Buddhism will be one of looking, so to speak, for loopholes by which to keep his delusions safe from challenges.  Incidentally, males are the worst when it comes to giving up their deluded minds.  They will fight tooth and nail holding on to the mind that creates their suffering rather than realize they have to make a difficult search for the uncreated Mind which transcends birth and death.

Getting to the quest for enlightenment

Most beginners don’t seem to understand (not all of course) that Buddhism, if we follow Siddhartha’s own journey before he awakened and became “Buddha,” was all about awakening to the absolute, the nature of which is unconditioned, unlike the temporal world which is always conditioned.  This is why the teaching of the Buddha ultimately aims at nirvana and not how to cope with the conditioned world of birth and death, as if this is all there is.  

Zen Buddhism is the Chinese expression of  Indian Buddhism.  It teaches awakening to our true nature.  In Zen Buddhism, the few adepts who succeed, see exactly what the Buddha saw, in other words.  In this regard, there is not a hair’s breadth of difference between Indian Buddhism and Chinese Buddhism.  The only discernible differences are cultural and matters of expediency or skillful means which are external.

If the West had the good fortune to have great Chinese Zen masters in the same way the Chinese had the good fortune to have many great Indian Buddhist masters to help them understand the essence of Buddhism, Western Buddhism—especially Zen—wouldn’t be heading towards becoming a secular religion.

We all know what the important secular religions of the West are.  The two main ones that stand out in my mind—and this is no joke—are sports and science.  Buddhism shows every indication of becoming a stepchild of the sciences.  This is not a good thing because modern science does not believe in enlightenment anymore than it believes in UFOs, ghosts, the electrical theory of the universe and cancer has a microbial etiology.  As a counter to such arrogant disbelief, the modern challenge for Buddhism is to dethrone science; putting it back where it belongs which is in technology.  Only then can the quest for enlightenment begin in earnest, that is, awakening to the absolute which is at the heart of every living being.  

Don't neglect the Buddha's discourses

If one has spent some time reading the Buddha’s discourses, it is fairly easy to see that Zen masters, especially, in the T’ang period and before were either quoting from certain Sutras or were making indirect references to them.  Just recently, I created this mini sermon from bits and pieces of various Sutras.

According to the Nirvana Sutra all beings possess the Buddha-nature but do not realize it. This original nature is a brightness or awakening (明). But beings are without brightness or awakening (無明). This is analogous to a mirror which is originally bright but which is temporarily covered by dust thus losing its brightness. In the Chan tradition beings are first taught that they have the Buddha-nature; then they are taught how to remove the covering of defilements which obstruct awakening. Seeing this brightness firsthand is awakening or the same, seeing one's true nature. Today, very few awaken because they mistake non-enlightenment (無明) for enlightenment (明) and the mind of birth and death for the self-existent pure Mind (自性淸淨心).

I even added some Chinese Buddhist terms using Soothill’s work, A Dictionary of Chinese Buddhist Terms.  What I came to understand after doing this mini sermon of mine is the Buddha’s discourses were inspirational, but more to the point, they begged commentary and were easily expandable.  Sutras act as food for thought, and in the hands of a skillful teacher can be of tremendous help to the beginner.

Now to the point I wish to make.  The practice of Zen which puts the discourses to the back burner and seated meditation on the front, is doing the struggling adept a tremendous disservice .  This might be okay for laypersons who, for the most part, use zazen just to relax.  But for the serious student it is almost a disaster.  This unhelpful situation represents, as I see it, somebody’s theory that zazen will have a tendency to make one wise while the study of the Buddha’s discourses won’t be as effective.  I would argue that understanding the discourses of the Buddha and meditation are coordinate; moreover, meditation is not just ritualistic sitting. 

Getting people to open their eyes as to what meditation is really all about is difficult, given the weight of wrong expectations many beginners have about Zen, some of whom even have the opinion that a study of the Buddha’s discourses is unnecessary.  However, the more important discourses describe our inner most being and its relationship with the phenomenal world including our temporal bodies.  They also serve to describe the meditative territory and experience.  Neglecting their study, meditation just becomes a kind of waiting-for-nothing—not an exploration of our connection with our mental world, pushing forward through this world to the limits of consciousness and beyond it thus reaching self-existent pure Mind.