by Rex Robertson
As a vehicle or expression of the Dharma, is traditional Zen taking root in America, or changing into some new form?
This question leads to other questions that would not be asked in Asia: What is the meaning and form of Zen practice for those raised in the Judeo/Christian/Islamic religious traditions? What can Zen, which has been called "the heart of religion" or "the religion before religion,"contribute to the Western religious traditions?
Is zazen a valid exploration of contemplative practice that many feel is missing from contemporary lay Christianity? Can non-theistic Zen exist in a climate and culture of monotheism?
Another fundamental question for Americans, one that would not be asked in Asia, is whether or not Zen practice can be separated from Buddhism; that is, can one who is an atheist, agnostic or professing monotheist practice "true" Zen? This is an issue of more than passing interest, and far from being resolved.
Can one be a Buddha without being Buddhist? Perhaps it is worth remembering that the historical Buddha, Gautama Shakyamuni, was not a Buddhist (for that matter, Jesus was not a Christian); "Buddhism" became a means of preserving, transmitting and honoring Guatama's unteachable experience. Likewise, Christianity developed around the desire of the disciples to preserve, honor and transmit the teachings and experience of Jesus. This is a fundamental and critical question for a number of us who sit, but are not drawn to monastic practice or inclined to convert to Buddhism: Can the practice of Zen be separated from the practice of Buddhism?
Zen grew out of the experience of Gautama and was shaped in the context of the emerging religion that became Buddhism, as Guatama's teachings were recorded, codified and transmitted. Zen is recognized as a branch or sect of Buddhism, purporting to be the "heart" or essence of the transmission of Gautama's experience of awakening. But the practice of Zen, as emphasized by Bodhidharma's Four Marks, points to a pure practice independent of all concepts, beliefs or theology:
Perhaps this question is not important. Zen does have a tradition of "crazy wisdom," of eccentric and vital personalities existing outside monasteries, hierarchies and lineages, yet carrying on teaching and transmission. Many Zen masters remained in temples and monasteries to transmit the Dharma and preserve lineages, but other masters took to nature, the mountains and forests, and transmitted the teachings to only a few disciples in a random and spontaneous way. Perhaps we will have modern day "crazy wisdom" masters, invisible in business attire, sitting on peaks of glass and steel mountains, or traveling concrete and asphalt deserts, spreading the Dharma in their own as yet undetermined and unforeseen fashion.
In a related manner, there is a growing and to some, controversial question of the practice of "Christian Zen." Many Christians are drawn to Zen, perhaps as a way of discovering, or recovering the practice of mystical or contemplative prayer that is missing in many forms of contemporary Protestant Christianity. From a religious viewpoint, there are profound theological differences between Buddhism and Christianity. There are divided opinions and ongoing debate on the realities of Christian Zen practice.
There are those (both Christian and Buddhist) who will maintain that the practice of a Christian Zen is impossible; that Christianity and Zen are absolutely and fundamentally incompatible. However, experiments are proceeding in this area, and have been for some time. This is happening both in traditional Christian settings and in lay-oriented, non-religious settings. What does this mean for Zen, for Zen Buddhism, and for Christianity?
What does it mean to sit zazen without any formal religious preferences? What is in a name? When one enters truly into the presence of God or the Cloud of Unknowing, or the Void, one is beyond names or categories, beyond images, beyond beliefs, beyond theology and dogma. What is one, then? Is one even a "Christian" any longer? One must leave "Christian" and Christianity behind for Christ. Perhaps, as one sits in zazen, what awakens is Christ-nature (or Buddha-nature; is there a difference?).
I am reminded of an anecdotal story at a Buddhist-Christian conference: It seems at this gathering, the theologians of each faith gathered, and immediately began arguing, while the contemplatives of each faith gathered and shared in laughter...
The point of sitting Zazen is multi-faceted and paradoxical; Zazen is an expression of fundamental sanity, the expression of awakening, the acknowledgment that one is already awakened. Zazen also embodies the truth of our present reality, to be willing to sit in unknowing or not-knowing. This is expressed as Buddha-nature in Buddhism, and Christ-nature in Christianity. The purpose of sitting, of prayer, meditation, of participation in rituals, observations and sacraments is not to "be" a Christian or Buddhist. The purpose is to awake to reality, to realize, embody and express Christ or Buddha-nature.
As Christians, we are called to "repent." For many Christians, this is synonymous with doing penance, feeling guilty, or resolving to change our behavior. But true repentance is much deeper, and literally demands a fundamental and radical transformation of our being. In the original Greek, the word used is metanoia. Metanoia literally means a profound turning about, a complete transformation or "conversion" of one's being. How do we embrace or embody this conversion?
What then, is the relationship of salvation in Christianity and enlightenment/awakening in Zen or Buddhism? Theologians may argue this question endlessly; those who sit can perhaps regard this question as a sort of Christian koan.
The Bible offers many parables and stories that can be contemplated as koans, as invitations to step outside or beyond the bounds of rational or logical thought. The non-canonical Gospel of Thomas portrays Jesus as an enigmatic and disturbing teacher, voicing extremely paradoxical, beautiful, and unsettling parables and sayings, many of which are Zen-like in nature. The Gnostic tractate "The Thunder, Perfect Mind" is a haunting exploration of unity in duality. Will we witness the formulation of Christian Zen koan practice?
The religions of Christianity and Buddhism grew from the teachings and experiences of Jesus and Guatama. When they passed from Earth, disciples and followers endeavored to preserve their teachings and memories. But is the function of any religion to preserve teachings and memories, or ultimately to provide a foundation for an individual encounter or experience of God or Reality? There is always the danger of crystallization of the original teachings, so that religion becomes a hollow shell of dogma and doctrine, traveling through time on the inertia of the original explosion of revelation, the original light growing dim with the passing of time. And on the other hand, extremes of purely personal revelations or insi ghts without the foundations of tradition or practice can lead to violent excesses.
Every question gives rise to other questions. What will it mean for Christians and Christianity to recover the observances of meditative and mystical prayer?
Zen, of course, has undergone cultural transformations along the way. The practice of Zen (and Buddhism) has all but disappeared in India, the country of Bodhidharma's origins. Buddhism migrated into the Taoist and Confucionist culture of China, incorporating elements of both religions and invariably adopting a Chinese temperament and expression. With Bodhidharma, Zen found fertile ground and took strong root in China. Zen then migrated to Japan, Korea, and Vietnam, again assimilating and incorporating, but also influencing elements of each particular cultural milieu, all the while adapting, yet still remaining uniquely Zen.
With the introduction of Zen to America and the West, for the first time Zen moves beyond the cultures in which it was born, grew and matured. Zen is truly a challenging encounter for our culture and ourselves. This encounter is also challenging for Zen itself. Zen must make pehaps the most difficult transition yet; remaining truly Zen, but becoming truly American. Many Americans also face a perplexing dilemma; to practice an Eastern "true" form of Zen, with the consideration of conversion to Buddhism, in a cultural context that is challening at best or hostile at worst.
Another possibility is to just practice without labels; a non-Zen Zen, a non-sense Zen, remaining open to undefined possibilities for ourselves and our culture, fully experiencing the moment, on our cushions or in heavy traffic; in our sanghas or at work; watching television, looking for a job. "How wonderful; I chop wood, I carry water!" becomes "How wonderful; I feed the cats, I take out the garbage!"
Perhaps, for the first time ever, Zen will undergo a completely radical transformation, transcending the bounds of Buddhism, to become something that is Zen but yet not Zen, something totally new and unforseen. Perhaps the vitality of Zen will take root, will take flame, will burst, consume or transform all constraints of Christianity or Buddhism, of Asian or Western culture, of the Eastern or Western mind set. This is possible, if Zen is indeed "the heart of all religion" or "the religion before religion." Perhaps Zen is like the lightning that flashes from East to West in the clear and empty sky.
There will be traditional Japanese (or Korean, or Vietnamese) Zen Buddhist monastic centers in America, observing Sôtô or Rinzai traditions. There will be ongoing experiments, on different levels, of a Christian Zen practice. And I foresee a strong and growing practice of a new "lay" Zen, a practice of "just" Zen that is not particularly Buddhist, or Christian, or even American for that matter-a Zen that just IS. It is possible that this Zen may indeed become something unrecognizable, something unimaginable, something that is, in some ways, Zen beyond Zen.
Many people are drawn to Zen from an inexpressible longing in the depths of their being that traditional religions do not speak to. In this regard, all who practice Zen, in any form, are shaping the face of Zen in America. And all share in the responsibility of the embodiment and transmission of the Dharma, of the Way, the Truth and the Light.
We continue to sit zazen, beyond the limitations of words, concepts, theologies, categorizations. Just here, just now, breathing in, breathing out; who breathes, you or the universe? Is there any difference between you breathing in the universe, or the universe breathing in you? There is only the breathing.
What then will be the face of Zen in America? As America itself, there will be many faces. Look in the Zendo and behold your face. Look at Tibetan thangkas, at the Buddhas with multiple faces and manifestations: Avalokitesvara, Manjushri, Samantabhadra. Look in the mirror and see that face.
Perhaps the face is not important; in sitting, the sitting takes care of itself, and these issues become superfluous.The face of no-face staring at the wall, staring into space-what matters the direction, if one has no face?
This essay dances around questions, but does not supply answers. I certainly do not propose any answers, and I am not sure that these questions have or even require "answers" in the tradional sense. The questioning is what is important. Where else but here and now could these questions even be asked?
I am grateful for a chance to explore these questions in depth. I have been fortunate in my journey to encounter individuals from many traditions who have encouraged and supported my explorations.
Many beautiful expressions of Christian mysticism can be found in the writings of Meister Eckhart, C. S. Lewis, David Steindl-Rast, Thomas Keating, Brother Lawrence, Jean Pierre de Caussade, Anthony Bloom, the anonymous authors of The Cloud of Unknowing and The Way of the Pilgrim, and countless other Christian mystics who have given voice to the inexpressible in beautiful and radical ways. This tradition has continued into modern times with the writings and work of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Hugo Enomiya-LaSalle, William Johnston and many others. I am grateful for my encounter with the Episcopal Church, and the wonderful guidance of the priesthood. Gurdjieff once said, "If you want to destroy your faith, make friends with a priest." I have found quite the opposite to be true.
I am deeply grateful for the work of Koun Yamada, Yasutani Roshi, Ruben Habito and all teachers in the Sanbo Kyodan and other Zen traditions, to encourage the full exploration and expression of the practice of Zen. In the sangha at Maria Kannon Zen Center, there is a deep sense of homecoming, of belonging or being a part of something that cannot be named, of something beyond traditional forms or labels. There is a complete welcoming and openness to a multitude of expressions, an invitation of freedom to just "be" in a community without any preconditions.
There is the invitation and the responsibility to develop my practice and my life, to truly become an "artist of life." In one of Carlos Castenada's books, Don Juan talks of following the "path with heart." What is of value is not the path, not the destination, but the travelling of the path. And someimes the journey, the destination, and the path all become one.