What is Chan?

[passing_through]

Chan exists universally and eternally. There is no need for any teacher to transmit it; what is transmitted is just the method by which one can personally experience Chan. In China, the Chan school developed from Indian Dhyana Buddhism, which taught a methods of meditative concentration aimed at the attainment of an absorbed, concentrated state of mind. This school later spread to other countries from China, and is called Zen in Japan, Son in Korea, and Thien in Vietnam.

Chan starts with gaining thorough knowledge of one's own self. Through letting go of all attachments and giving rise to wisdom, our mind can regain its luminosity. We call this knowledge of the notion of self "enlightenment" or "seeing one's self-nature." This is the beginning of helping yourself to thoroughly solve real problems. In the end, you will discover that you as an individual, together with the whole of existence, are but one indivisible totality.

Chan encompasses four key elements: faith, understanding, practice, and realization. Faith belongs to the realm of religion, understanding is philosophical, practice is belief put into action, and realization is enlightenment. Without faith, we cannot understand; without understanding, we cannot practice; and without practice, we cannot realize enlightenment. Together, these four concepts create the doorway we enter to attain wisdom.

from http://www.dharmadrum.org/chan/chanindex.asp

[passing_through]

This is the transcript of a talk given by Master Sheng Yen in 1977, at the beginning of his teaching career in the US. It was originally published in a small pamphlet.

I wish to start by telling you that Chan is not the same as knowledge, yet knowledge is not completely apart from Chan. Chan is not just religion, yet the achievements of religion can be reached through Chan. Chan is not philosophy, yet philosophy can in no way exceed the scope of Chan. Chan is not science, yet the spirit of emphasizing reality and experience is also required in Chan. Therefore, please do not try to explore the content of Chan motivated by mere curiosity, for Chan is not something new brought here [to the USA] by Orientals; Chan is present everywhere, in space without limit and time without end. However before the Buddhism of the East was propagated in the western world, the people of the West never knew of the existence of Chan. The Chan taught by Orientals in the West is not, in fact, the real Chan. It is the method to realize Chan. Chan was first discovered by a prince named Siddhartha Gautama (called Shakyamuni after his enlightenment), who was born in India about 2500 years ago. After he became enlightened and was called a Buddha, he taught us the method to know Chan. This method was transmitted from India to China, and then to Japan. In India it was called dhyana, which is pronounced "Chan" in Chinese, and "Zen" in Japanese. Actually, all three are identical.

I just wanted to touch on the statement, “Chan is not just religion, yet the achievements of religion can be reached through Chan.” It is necessary to understand that the author of this text is a Dharma Inheritor of two lineages of Chan and lives his life as a full-time teacher and monk. For him, Chan is a religion, based on 4 things: faith, understanding, practice, and realization. In the sense that Chan requires faith for the practice to succeed, it can be considered similar to religion however, regardless of the labels we use to grasp reality, Chan points to an experience and the path to that experience is communicated by people and to people. As such, Chan can be a religion, a philosophy, a method, a practice, a boat, a code of conduct, etc… Chan can be as many things as there are people – so long as it continues to point the path to the Chan experience… in a similar way to the words of Taoist Master Laozi, “The Tao of which we speak, is not the real Tao”. The Chan of which we speak is not the real Chan.

Chan has universal and eternal existence. It has no need of any teacher to transmit it; what is transmitted by teachers is just the method by which one can personally experience this Chan.

This is the crux of understanding “Chan”… what we call Chan is only the methods used to experience it. Different methods will speak to different people in different ways, based on life experience, learning style, mentality, spirituality, culture, etc… (traditionally called, “karmic seeds” – the things in our lives that have brought us to this present moment).

Some people mistakenly understand Chan to be some kind of mysterious experience; others think that one can attain supernatural powers through the experience of Chan. Of course, the process of practicing Chan meditation may cause various kinds of strange occurrences on the level of mental and physical sensation; and also, through the practice of unifying body and mind, one may be able to attain the mental power to control or alter external things. But such phenomena, which are looked upon as mysteries of religion, are not the aim of Chan practice, because they can only satisfy one's curiosity or megalomania, and cannot solve the actual problems of people’s lives.

Chan starts from the root of the problem. It does not start with the idea of conquering the external social and material environments, but starts with gaining thorough knowledge of one's own self. The moment you know what your self is, this "I" that you now take to be yourself will simultaneously disappear. We call this new knowledge of the notion of self "enlightenment" or "seeing ones basic nature". This is the beginning of helping you to thoroughly solve real problems. In the end, you will discover that you the individual, together with the whole of existence, are but one totality which cannot be divided.

Because you yourself have imperfections, you therefore feel the environment is imperfect. It is like a mirror with an uneven surface, the images reflected in it are also distorted. Or, it is like the surface of water disturbed by ripples, the moon reflected in it is irregular and unsettled. If the surface of the mirror is clear and smooth, or if the air on the surface of the water is still and the ripples calmed, then the reflection in the mirror and the moon in the water will be clear and exact. Therefore, from the point of view of Chan, the major cause of the pain and misfortune suffered by humanity is not the treacherous environment of the world in which we live, nor the dreadful society of humankind, but the fact that we have never been able to recognize our basic nature. So the method of Chan is not to direct us to evade reality, nor to shut our eyes like the African ostrich when enemies come, and bury our heads in the sand, thinking all problems are solved. Chan is not a self-hypnotizing idealism.

You have to face life and investigate the source of difficulty to be free of it… all the problems in the world are because people don’t learn to “calm the waters” of themselves. When you are at peace, there is peace in the world. For more of this Dharma talk, check it out at Dharma Drum:

from http://www.dharmadrum.org/chan/chan.asp?pkey={EE9848E1-2340-4C5F-8650-7DFBF2F67473}

Respectfully,
Jeremy R.

[passing_through]

Chan is often referred to as the "gateless gate."

A "gate" is both a method of practice and a path to liberation. The gateway into Chan will open naturally as long as a practitioner can let go of his/her self-centered conscious mind. In response to people's needs, past Chan masters adapted other forms of practice and invented methods that made Chan more accessible.

In a nutshell, masters that have experienced Chan at the Weng Kiu level are free to create methods appropriate to their disciples/students to lead them to the Chan experience. These methods might differ due to culture, location, environment, etc. but, taken in totality, it will lead the follower up the same mountain. This is part of the problem when people that are still climbing the mountain start to compare different methods and claim “this” or “that” … with no real experience of the subject, the climber starts to fret and fidget, the ego acting out to protect itself, looking for ways to distract and interfere with the practice.

This raises a difficult question – at what point is someone a Master? Unfortunately, only a fellow Master can recognize a Master… I’ll have more to share when I get there ; )

Beginners in Chan practice use basic techniques of concentration to calm and unify the mind.

The purpose of concentration techniques is to take the mind away from a state of scattered thoughts and feelings of affliction and fetteredness. One's mind first enters a state of concentration and then enters a state where the separation between external and internal disappears. There are two major methods: the methods of huatou (of the Linji lineage, or Rinzai in Japanese), and the method of silent illumination (of the Cao Lineage, or Soto in Japanese).

bold above from http://www.dharmadrum.org/chan/chan.asp?NumID=584

=====

These are the two main lineages of Chan – Linji and Cao… but there are more lineages that are less well-known. In fact, at one point in time, there were five major schools… but they were all absorbed back into Shaolin … italics[/] below from http://www.shaolinwolf.com/Shaolin/theabbots.htm

Beyond Hui Neng's Chan branch, two other monks are acknowledged as 6th generation. Shen Hsui (606-706), who lost a poetry writing contest and consequently the lineage to Hui Neng, headed the northern Chan branch. Another monk Fa Ru (637-689) is also mentioned but little is known about him. Monks Shen Hui (668-760) who documented the life of Hui Neng and who is possibly responsible for much of his platform sutra, and Pu Ji are recognized as 7th generation.

During this period Chinese Chan Buddhism formed five major branches, which are also called the Five Chan Families. These branches are different from the five major branches of Buddhism of which Chan is one.

[list=1]
Monk Ben Ji created Seng Zhong Lingji Zong by combining the teaching of another monk called Liang Jie with his own traditions.
Monk Yi Xuan founded Chan Zhong Lingji Zong at Lingji Temple in Hebei.
Monk Wen Yen went to Luyen in Guangdong and he was a proponent of Chan Zhong Yuan Men Zong.
Monk Hui Ji believed that everything has feelings and can find their inner Buddha by clearing their heart. He established Chan Zhong Wei Yan Zong at Yan Mountain.
Lastly, monk Wen Yi developed Chan Zhong Fa Yen Zong after his moniker Da Fa Yen Chan Si ("he who can see through everything").
[/list=1]
Many of these secular Chan branches were obliterated during the Tang dynasty persecution of Buddhism (842-845). Centuries later at the Shaolin Temple, being the root of these five Chan branches had its price. Turmoil had caused riots that resulted in the burning of the entire temple. It would not be the last time the temple was burned.

During this time a very special child was born to the Zhang family in Shuiwen county in Shanxi. His nickname was Sen Xiao Er ("little kid saint") because he could read a book just once and have a complete understanding of it. He renounced the world for monkhood, took the name Fu Yue and began training under monk Xiu Lin. When he came of age, First Yuan (Mongol) Emperor Shizu, better known as Kublai Khan (1279-1294) sent him to Shaolin to restore order.

“Monk Fu Yue became the abbot of Shaolin and combined the five Chan branches back into one called Chou Dong. People came from all over to hear his dharma talks and as a result Shaolin became very famous and prosperous. He built more Shaolin Temples in Helin (southwest of Kuolon, Mongolia), in Chang En (now known as Xian), in Suzhou, in Taiyuen and in Luoyang. With each new temple, he sent a Songshan Shaolin monk to be abbot. Fu Yue's impact on the spread of Chan and Shaolin was tremendous. It earned him some very special titles. To Shaolin, he is Kai Shan Jiu Shi ("open mountain founder"). In 1312, Yuan dynasty Emperor Renzhong (1285-1320) bestowed the title of Da Shi Kong Cai Fu Yi Tong San Shi (a third level ranking) which was elevated after Fu Yue's passing to Pu Guo Gong ("grandfather whose teaching goes to every corner of the country).

Abbot Fu Yue created a very special poem for Shaolin. Each of the 70 characters in this poem is now used as a generation name for Shaolin monks and disciples. For example, current abbot Yongxin is of the 33rd generation. Accordingly, Yong is the 33rd character in this poem. Currently the oldest surviving generation is Su (30th) and the youngest is Chang (38th).

(poem is here: http://www.shaolinwolf.com/Buddhism/poem.htm)

Respectfully,
Jeremy R.

[Cang Long]

cha'ntao (http://www.taoism.net/articles/chantao.htm)

[Cang Long]

Nan-ch’uan Kills the Cat


The monks of the eastern and western halls were quarreling about a cat. Nan-ch’uan came by. He stepped right into the middle of the quarrel, picked up the cat and said, “OK, now! You monks, if you can say the right word, I’ll spare the cat. If not, I’ll kill it. Quick now, say it?” Nobody spoke. Nan-ch’uan killed the cat.



Later, Chao-chou returned to the monastery. He entered Nan-ch’uan’s room. Nan-ch’uan told him what happened. Without a word, Chao-chou took off his sandals, put them on his head, turned around and walked out of the room. As he was leaving Nan-ch’uan said, “If only you had been here, I would not have killed the cat.”



We westerners usually have a hard time with this koan. A contemporary Zen Master, Zenkei Shibayama Roshi, says the reason is that we see the koan from the point of view of ethics. And the koan is not about ethics at all. When I was given this koan to work on, I was a pacifist. I had all the proper pacifist credentials. I was a Conscientious Objector during the Korean War. I had been a member of the Religious Society of Friends— a Quaker—for 20 years, before turning to Zen Buddhism. My pacifist pedigree was quite distinguished and pure. When I finally received approval for my presentation and understanding of the koan, I no longer was a pacifist!



Then, at my Tokudo, when I became a Novice Zen Priest, I asked permission, which was given, to include in my vows, a vow of non-violence.



Now, some ten years later, I include a vow of non-violence in the precept-study leading to Jukai, lay ordination, as well as Tokudo, Junior Priest Ordination. In order to receive the precepts from me, students are required to deal with the vow of non-violence. But I no longer speak of pacifism!

[Cang Long]

What is this all about? There’s a famous Zen saying, concerning three stages of Zen practice. In the first stage, when one first begins to practice, mountains are mountains, and rivers are rivers. Later as one gets into the practice, one enters the second stage, and realizes that mountains are no longer mountains, and rivers are no longer rivers. Much later as one arrives as some understanding of practice, one enters the third stage, and realizes that mountains are mountains, and rivers are rivers. But don’t think that the first stage and the third stage are the same. The intervening second stage changes everything. What has changed? What is the difference between the first and third stage?



Let’s closely look at the koan.



The monks of the eastern and western halls were quarreling about a cat.



There is some controversy about what the quarrel was about. In The Transmission of the Lamp, page 259, the text reads:



On one occasion monks from the two halls, eastern and western were quarreling over the ownership of a kitten.



However all the other versions of the koan leave the cause of the quarrel vague. Some speculate that the monks may have been arguing about whether the cat had Buddha-nature or not, like in the koan Mu. (In this case, would the answer be “Miow.”) One can imagine some such levity, even among “serious” Zen monks.



If the Lamp is correct, then there is a right and wrong to the issue. A similar case—but with more at stake—was brought before King Solomon. (I Kings 3: 16-28) Two women claimed a baby as their own. Solomon asked for a sword and threatened to divide the baby in two giving each mother half the baby. The false mother agreed with the king’s judgment to split the baby in half. The real mother gave up her claim to the baby, and asked the king not to kill it, and give it to the other mother. We all know the result.



The koan continues:



Nan-ch’uan came by. He stepped right into the middle of the quarrel, picked up the cat and said, “OK, now! You monks, if you can say the right word, I’ll spare the cat. If not, I’ll kill it. Quick now, say it?” Nobody spoke. Nan-ch’uan killed the cat.



The rightful owners of the cat—if the argument was about ownership—could have responded as the real mother did to Solomon, and give up their claim. That would have been their “right word.” But they didn’t. Nobody spoke. Nobody had the right word. So maybe the issue wasn’t ownership. Perhaps the argument was theological in nature, maybe even along the lines of intrinsic Buddha Nature, with no jokes intended.



One of the ways to work with koans is to become each of the participants, and elements of the koan. At one meditation session, you would be one of the monks from the western hall. At another session, you would be one of the monks from the eastern hall. At another session, you would be Nan-ch’uan. At another, the cat. At another, the knife or sword. Then you would be Chao-chou, and later, his sandals.

[Cang Long]

Another way to work with koans is to ask questions. What is the “right word? What is a right word? What is the cat? What is the knife or sword? What is the killing? What is being killed? Who is doing the killing? Is there any killing?



In koan study I often ask students to boil down the koan to one word. This koan specifically requires you to do so. But now it’s a matter of life and death. Symbolically, the life and death of the cat is at stake. Is the life and death of each of us a concern of the koan? What word can keep Nan-ch’uan from killing the cat? What word can keep Manjushri, who also wields a sword, from killing us? What is being killed? In daisan, ultimately, you cannot complete this koan until you declare the “right” word.



Nobody spoke. Nan-ch’uan killed the cat.



O.K. So, we are Westerners, and we are troubled by the ethics of the koan, and we don’t care what Zen Masters say. We will deal with the ethics! So let’s! Many Zen masters have written about this koan, and many have made some reference to the ethics of the koan. D. T. Suzuki, Yasutani Roshi, and Aitken Roshi, say that in their opinion Nan-chu’an, of course, did not kill the cat. Even Dogen Zenji hints the same. The usual reasoning is that, disappointed at the lack of response from the monks, Nan-ch’uan, drops the cat, and in disgust leaves the monks with their mouths open—or in this case, shut. I side with the above masters, because that’s the version my temperament prefers. And also, because in my own work on this koan I came to see that the issue was not killing or non-killing of the cat.



Another way to work with koans is to try to see the various components of the koan in terms of the absolute and relative. What is the absolute in this koan? What is the relative? How are they related? Is the argument over the cat absolute or relative? Is the cat the absolute or the relative? Is the killing the absolute or the relative? What about the monks? Nan-ch’uan? Chao-chou? His sandals? His sandals on his feet? His sandals on his head?



Dogen Zenji’s comments on this koan are found in Shobogenzo-Zuimonki, pp. 28-30, and are most pertinent. The text is in the form of a dialogue between Dogen and his dharma successor Ejo.



Dogen said, “If I had been Nansen [Nan-ch’uan], I would have said, ‘If you cannot speak, I will kill it; even if you can speak, I will kill it. Who would fight over a cat? Who can save the cat? On behalf of the students, I would have said, ‘We are not able to speak, Master. Go ahead and kill the cat!’ Or, I would have said for them, ‘Master, you only know about cutting it (the cat) into two with one stroke, yet you do not know about cutting it into one with one stroke.’



Ejo asked, “How do you cut it into one with one stroke?”



Dogen said, “The cat itself.”



Dogen added, “If I had been Nansen, when the students could not answer, I would have released the cat saying that the students had already spoken. An ancient master said, ‘When the great-function manifests itself, no fixed rules exist.’



Dogen also said, “This action of Nansen’s, that is, cutting the cat, is a manifestation of the great-function of the buddha-dharma. This is a pivot-word. If it were not a pivot-word, it could not be said that mountains, rivers, and the great earth are the excellent pure and bright Mind. Or it could not be said that Mind itself is the Buddha. Upon hearing of this pivot-word, see the cat itself as nothing but the Buddha-body. Upon hearing this word, students must immediately enter enlightenment.”



Dogen also said, “This action, that is, cutting the cat, is no other than Buddha’s action.”



Ejo said, “What shall we call it?”



Dogen said, “Call it cutting the cat.”



Ejo said, “Is it a crime or not?”



Dogen said, “Yes, it is a crime.”



Ejo inquired, “How are we able to be released from it?”



Dogen said, “Buddha’s action and the criminal action are separate, yet they both occur in one action.”



We see in this quote, the interweaving of relative and absolute. The cat is both the Buddhadharma, and the pivot (or right) word. The killing of the cat is both the relative and absolute. How can killing the cat be both a crime and the act of the Buddha at the same time? In what way is the cat the Buddhadharma? And what is the catword? The pivot-word? The right word?



Later, Chao-chou returned to the monastery. He entered Nan-ch’uan’s room. Nan-ch’uan told him what happened. Without a word, Chao-chou took off his sandals, put them on his head, turned around and walked out of the room. As he was leaving Nan-ch’uan said, “If only you had been here, I would not have killed the cat.”



In the Blue Cliff Record, this part of the koan is presented as a separate koan. Here, it is the second part of one koan. There has been much speculation about Chao-chou’s act.



Without a word, Chao-chou took off his sandals, put them on his head, turned around and walked out of the room.



What was Chao-chou’s understanding of the story told to him by Nan-ch’uan? What did Nan-ch’uan understand Chao-chou’s act-response to be?



“If only you had been here, I would not have killed the cat.”



Remember, Nan-chu’an asked his students to say, “the right word.” In what way was Chao-chou’s act, “the right word?”



Aitken Roshi suggests that in some parts of China, placing the sandals on the head is a form of mourning. Mourning for the cat? But if so, his act was an after-the-fact statement. Why did Nan-ch’uan say he would not have killed the cat because of an act of mourning? Chao-chou’s act would have prevented the killing of the cat. So Chao-chou’s act, in some way was, “the right word?” Of course, double entendre could be at play here. Chao-chou’s act could have been both, “the right word,” as well as an after-the-fact act of mourning



Why the sandals on the head? Sandals belong on the feet? Why the topsy-turvy? Is topsy-turvy Chao-chou’s commentary on the situation? What is topsy-turvy about the two groups of monks arguing over a cat? What is topsy-turvy about their not being able to say, “the right word?” Where is the absolute and relative in the situation? Is there something topsy-turvy about the position of absolute and relative here?



The wielding of the sword takes us to Manjushri. Manjushri is usually the image of the zendo, where mediation practice takes place. In one hand he holds a copy of a book containing Prajña Paramita sutras, which represent ultimate wisdom. In the other hand is a sword, which cuts through the darkness of ignorance, which cuts away delusion, which cuts away everything that stands in the way of wisdom—of totally placing oneself in zazen, in Shikan-Taza. What must the monks of the two halls cut away in order to gain true wisdom, and see, and say the right word? What delusions were they caught up in?



What delusions are you caught up in? Pacifism was the major “attachment” I had to work with in my wrestle with this koan. The Buddha teaches that we are not only to abandon evil; we are also to abandon the good. And he advises us not to have “views.” Not having any “views,” we can truly see. We hold on to that which “works.” That which we know to be “true.” Especially if we have managed to achieve a “kensho” (insight-enlightenment) experience during the course of hard work on a koan. We think we have something. We’ve achieved something. But, it’s got to go! It’s a view! It works! And so it must go! Pacifism was all of these things for me. Everything I encountered—every new thought, experience, sensation, discovery, teaching—everything had to be measured and evaluated through the filter of my pacifism. Pacifism was my “view.” And so, I couldn’t see. I couldn’t see a thing for what it was, because I was seeing through the prism of Pacifism. Pacifism was my delusion!

What’s yours?

Cut it away, no matter what it is? No matter how precious it is! No matter how long you have held it close to your heart. Cut away all delusion. Cut away all ignorance. Cut away all knowledge. Become naked, stripped of everything that prevents you from seeing, and saying, “the right word.”

And finally, what is “the right word?”


http://www.dragoncliffzencenter.org/Nan.htm

[Cang Long]

Cha'n is an enlightened state of absolute truth.

[Cang Long]

A little something I enjoyed reading.Taoists held similar beliefs and practises concerning chi cultivation, breath, and physical movements known as nei gung. Taoist priests and scholars found other similarities with Dhayana Buddhism and were soon attracted to the Shaolin Temple’s teachings and came to study there. Taoism taught the avoidance of direct force through contemplation and natural reasoning and saw merit in Shaolin’s peaceful and non-offensive philosophical foundation. Eventually a hybrid form of Buddhism, called Ch’an in Chinese (and Zen in Japanese where it also soon spread in popularity), emerged that exhibited Buddhist structure, based on insightful meditational reasoning, and Taoist embellishments, based on their Five Elements cycle, the theories of the I Ching and the Ba Qua diagrams, along with a merger of various deities and spiritual beings such as the Eight Taoist Immortals.

In fact, a Shaolin monk named Hui Neng, who lived from 638 to 713 AD, had early on become known as the real father of Ch’an Buddhism (Buddhidharma became known as its First Patriarch) because of his successful blending of Dhayana Buddhism with the already prevalent Taoist thought of the learned. Both were essentially paths to immediate enlightenment and total spiritual thought, and it was not difficult to follow two paths concurrently, since they did not cling to religious dogma and personalities.

Shaolin Warrior monks (http://pages.eidosnet.co.uk/kungfumaster/shaolin.html)

[Cang Long]

Very interesting indeed...

"The Chinese character of Tao (“¹) is composed of �ead�h implying thinking or principle, on the right, and alk�h implying application, on the left. It means that if you get the principle, you can apply to all situations. If you understand Tao, you understand yourself and you know how to live the way you should live under any circumstances. Understanding Tao to us is like understanding the program language to computer programmers, like understanding arithmetic to mathematicians, like understanding human body structure to surgery physicians. It is the building principle of universe, and thus the building principle of your life. �gPracticing any dharma (i.e., teaching) is futile before understanding the original heart or intent h, said the Six Patriarch of Zen Buddhism, Hui-Neng. In other words, devoting to anything before you understand Tao, or understanding yourself, would be futile. And the first step is to know where you come from."

[JK Walz]

Chan- I think of it as sort of a returning of the Budda's teachings to the people (the people who would benefit from it the most).

Chan seems to be more of a way to "live" Buddhism rather than study it. I would rather try to gain enlightenment through Right View, Intent, Action...than reading and studying the Pali Canon!

JK