On rituals

[RichardH]

For about 15 years I helped lead in ritual during Sunday public sittings for a lay Forest Sangha group. It consisted of lighting the candles, ringing the bell, and leading in bowing and chanting (Namo tassa Bhagavato..... ) . Since the Sunday practice was open to the public, there was always... almost every week, people expressing discomfort with ritual. Many people would say it was too "religious" and that the reason they liked Buddhism was because they thought it wasn't a "religion" but an "individual" "spiritual path". Some people associated ritual with Mom and Dad's Church and all kinds of negative personal history. We tried to appease this and stripped away most of the ritual for a while, but it was still not enough for people who were "uncomfortable" with any amount of chanting and bowing. Finally we just brought everything back and told people "It is what it is". They could sit it out if they wanted to, but it is what it is. I think what was underneath much of the "discomfort" was a threat to self in "devotional practice", in bowing down. It looks dualistic.. as if you are lowering yourself to a higher power, and that unnerves people who feel very mistrustful of spiritual authority....or scary "cults" etc. Not sure what the solution is... just engage that aspect of practice. It has deep history, deep resonance, and soon becomes perfectly normal.

Gassho, kojip

[Risho]

I don't think my aversion to it has anything to do with a bowing down to something. There are a couple of things. One is definitely arrogance as Taigu said, so I guess it's an aversion to bowing down. hahahah The other is a habitual reaction I have to things. After doing something for a couple of years, I can "psyche" myself out of it. I don't know why. Hell, zazen is weird to myself sometimes. Sometimes I feel like quitting, like "what am I doing?" But I'm not quitting. I took those precepts because I really do need this sangha for my practice. My mind goes back and forth like a pendulum at times. When I saw this post, I had to just post what I felt. It was a relief to get it out to everyone. Sometimes I feel guilty or like a shitty practitioner for these thoughts. Thanks for listening (or reading) them.

I feel like if I don't honestly express my cynicism, I'm lying to everyone. ANyway this isn't all about me.. Thank you again for reading this. Thank you for this post Kirk and your responses Taigu and Kojip.

Gassho,

Risho

[Jundo]

I would simply add this to what Taigu just wrote ...

The kesa is not a trapping, it is form and formless-universe-being itself, not just a symbol. Not a pair of jeans.
We may throw the kolomo, the white kimono, the bells and all of the rest of it in our will to make it our own ( Zen is not our own by the way, it has nothing to do with our stincky agendas), we may negate the whole history, do a tabula rasa, and practice with shorts or Tshirs ( very comfortable, I quite like it).

and when you sit in your pans or pijama these also become the kesa.

Would you take the time to study a bit the kesa and practice a bit more before dismissing it?

I would say that the Kesa, as with Zazen itself, is sacred and special by convention. Our way of choosing to experience and define and live each is what makes each "sacred" and "special", for otherwise the former are just some cotton rags resembling a table cloth, and the latter no different from any sitting on the ground with crossed legs. There is nothing particularly wondrous about each until we choose to encounter and live them such way.

But that being said, how we encounter and embody them makes all the difference (and sameness!) in the world!

It is much like saying that one's home is "just some house" or "any building" or "just a pile of wood and nails" until we move in and merge into it, coming to encounter and enliven it with our lives, making a "home" one's "home". Thus we merge into and find our True Home in the Kesa, in Zazen.

When we choose to experience the Kesa as a symbol-less symbol ... as the very embodiment ... of Liberation reaching boundlessly in all directions, as both form and formless, as the Buddha's Teachings and our Bodhisattva Vow to Rescue All Sentient Beings (as in the Verse of the Kesa recited) ... presto-chango ... the "cotton cloth" becomes All Sacred Reality, one's Home. Frankly, it is not much different in that way from how our Christian friends may choose to experience and enliven two pieces of wood nailed together in the shape of a "t" as a formless form and symbol-less symbol embodying the Teachings and Path of Jesus, thus do we experience and enliven this cloth into a formless form and symbol-less symbol embodying the Teachings and Path of Buddha. The "power" manifests when one comes to experience and place the power into the symbol-less symbol, yes, but upon doing so the power is real.

Sewing a Kesa is an amazing non-task ... and also a lesson in how to approach and "sew" all of our life ... for we move forward, slowly, diligently and carefully stitch-by-stitch ... yet there is no finish line or goal, and each stitch is wholly unto itself ... and we make "mistakes" nonetheless, though no mistake is possible ... and fix and straighten what imperfections we can, though what need of fixing, and what not just what it is?

Zazen is nothing more than sitting down like any sitting ... until we encounter and embody and enliven this sitting in a most special way that I call "non-Self Fulfilling" ...

If you simply sit with the attitude that your Zazen in that moment is "perfectly whole, just complete unto itself, without borders and duration, not long or short, nothing to add or take away, containing all moments and no moments in "this one moment" ... then IT IS! IT IS because you learn to treat and taste it as so. Your learning how to treat it as so, makes it so. If you can learn to sit there feeling about Zazen, and all of life, that "there is not one thing to add or take away" ... then, guess what: there is not one thing to add or take away precisely because you feel that way. Each moment is perfectly whole when you can see each moment as perfectly whole. Time stops when you stop thinking about time. Each instant of time is perfect when you think it perfectly just that time.

Strange, huh? But you are in the driver's seat.

http://www.treeleaf.org/forums/showt...lling-Prophesy

Same with bowing, offering Gassho, lighting incense and much more ... a waste of time until encountered as Timeless.

Yes, how we encounter and embody and live them makes all the difference (and sameness!) in the world! And so such is, we learn, FOR ALL OF THIS ORDINARY-SACRED LIFE!

Gassho, J

[Jundo]

Someone wrote to ask what the monks are engaged in from the 9:00 mark in the film I posted above, from Sojiji.

That is the "tendoku" ritual reading of the 600-fascicle Large Prajña Paramita Sutra (tendoku ritual reading involves shouting the title and volume number of the sutra, then quickly flipping through the sutra book itself). The purpose is a bit esoteric, much like the belief that simply praising the name of a Sutra equals the merit of reading the whole Sutra, or that even spinning a wheel containing the Sutra once is equivalent to the merit of reading the whole Sutra. In fact, think of the merit of then spinning a whole bookcase, as in this photo from Japan! Similar wheels are found in Tibet, China and the like.

Talk about "speed reading"!



Here is the Tibetan portable version ...



Now, that is -not- a Buddhist Practice that speaks to me particularly (I think the same for Taigu), so we don't Practice such here. It does speak to some however, and more power to 'em!

Gassho, J

[Jinyo]

Thanks for this thread Kirk - I am finding it really helpful. And thanks to everyone for their honesty.

I also have difficulty with some aspects of Zen ritual and think to myself how can I truly say I belong to/or fully carry out this practice?
But when I reflect upon the many years that Jundo and Taigu have been practicing/devoting their time to Zen/shikantaza it puts my anxiety in perspective. Really - 7 months into this I am just a baby going goo goo, ga, ga. I am quite happy to copy/mouth the words because I believe in time the process will deepen, the connotations will resonate - I'll discover that new sentences can be made. This process does not have to be dreary - it can be an exciting dialogue. But just now I'm at base camp - and that's OK too.

I don't know if I'll ever grow to love The Heart Sutra (I have particular difficulty with the English translation that throws me into a mind turmoil of understanding empty/not empty every time!) or the sound of drumming (which my ears find difficult to take).
I do love the rich tradition of the Kesa - no problem there.

Anyway - as Myozan says it's a slow process (a journey) and that's all fine too.

... and Taigu, thank you for expressing the essence of the 'still point' - perhaps the point of it all, n'est-ce-pas?



Gassho



Willow

[andyZ]

I have only been practicing for a short period of time (relatively) but the way I see ritual in Zen is as a respect and homage to the people who came before me, who dedicated their whole lives so that I can practice. In our practice here at Trealeaf we integrate both our Japanese and American heritage by, for example, reciting the Heart Sutra in both languages. In the beginning I was very apprehensive about the Japanese version – why do it, if we don't even understand a word of it? Our tradition is lineage based and keeping certain aspects of the Zen ritual connects us (me at least) to the people who practiced before me regardless of where they lived China, Japan or Florida. I can't even imagine what our tradition would look like if every generation of practitioners just kept what they liked and disregarded what they didn't.

[Jundo]

Just to underline ... at heart, in my view, there is only one Practice ultimately necessary.

Of course, seated Zazen is our one and only practice, for by the very nature of Shikantaza ... when sitting Zazen, there is nothing more to do, nothing more that need be done, no addition needed nor anything to take away. Zazen is complete and whole. No other place to be in all the world, no other place we must (or can) run to. Nothing lacks, all is sacred, and Zazen is the One Liturgy. It is vital to be sat by Zazen with such attitude. When we sit, it is very very vital to sit with the attitude sunk deep in one's bones that " there is no other place to be, nothing lacking, not one more thing to do" than this. (We do so because in daily life, running here and there and always feeling some lackings or discontents in life, we rarely if ever undertake one action with total heart and completeness in such way! Thus we call this "non-doing".) Thus, Zazen is sat each day as the One and Whole Practice.

Yet ... of course ... we do rise up from the Zafu and get on with "the rest of life". Rising from the sitting cushion ... one must come to express Zazen all through daily life. All of daily life is also "Zazen" in its wider meaning. Then, ANYTHING and EVERYTHING can be encountered as Sacred, One, Whole ... as 'Zazen' ... from 'changing a baby's diaper' to 'stapling staples' at work to 'pulling weeds' in the garden ... to bowing a bow or chanting a chant ... all a SACRED RITUAL when approached as such. ... That is "Zazen" in its boundless meaning, on or off the sitting cushion.

The sacredness can be brought into everything, even the most ordinary ... even the most ordinary manifests the sacred, is sacred and 'not just ordinary'.

And so it goes if one wishes to add "Buddhist" liturgy and ritual ... from ringing a bell to bowing to sewing and wearing the Kesa ... all Zazen in its boundless meaning.

Frankly, so long as one is sitting Zazen with such attitude-non-attitude ... and encountering all of life with such non-attitude-attitude ... it is not so important to me what they wear or do not wear, ring or do not ring, bow or do not bow. The True Kesa is sometimes unseen and not made of cloth, the True Chant is in words and silence. the True Bow is not just up or down. However, if one says they will not sew, ring or bow because they do not "like" it, are filled with opinions and aversions against it ... then I tell them to try sewing, ringing and bowing while dropping aversions. If they think that one has to sew, ring or bow to a Buddha Statue in an Incense filled room to experience "real Zen" ... I tell them to Just Sit and drop all the rest.

In this case, Kirk ... you should undertake Jukai, sew a Rakusu, bow and chant for Jukai. It will do you a world of good.

Gassho, Jundo

[Ryumon]

Ok Jundo. Where do I sign up?

[Jundo]

Details on Jukai and Ango to be posted within the day.

Gassho, J

[Mp]

It is much like saying that one's home is "just some house" or "any building" or "just a pile of wood and nails" until we move in and merge into it, coming to encounter and enliven it with our lives, making a "home" one's "home". Thus we merge into and find our True Home in the Kesa, in Zazen.

Sewing a Kesa is an amazing non-task ... and also a lesson in how to approach and "sew" all of our life ... for we move forward, slowly, diligently and carefully stitch-by-stitch ... yet there is no finish line or goal, and each stitch is wholly unto itself ... and we make "mistakes" nonetheless, though no mistake is possible ... and fix and straighten what imperfections we can, though what need of fixing, and what not just what it is?

Wonderful ... thank you Jundo ... this gave me goose bumps.

Gassho
Michael

[ZenHarmony]

I have only been practicing for a short period of time (relatively) but the way I see ritual in Zen is as a respect and homage to the people who came before me, who dedicated their whole lives so that I can practice. In our practice here at Trealeaf we integrate both our Japanese and American heritage by, for example, reciting the Heart Sutra in both languages. In the beginning I was very apprehensive about the Japanese version – why do it, if we don't even understand a word of it? Our tradition is lineage based and keeping certain aspects of the Zen ritual connects us (me at least) to the people who practiced before me regardless of where they lived China, Japan or Florida. I can't even imagine what our tradition would look like if every generation of practitioners just kept what they liked and disregarded what they didn't.

Yes! What Andy said.

in deep respect to those who came before and those in the here and now,

Lisa

[kosen]

It seems to me that the relation in the rites evolves with the practice: at the beginning, we participate in the rites with emotion, by giving them an almost magic value. Later, we rebel, we refuse the rites because we consider them deafening, childish. Later even, it does not have importance anymore: sometimes we strike the bell, we put the incense, we bang the mokugyo, and sometimes not. Then the rite enters the flow of the life, without we think of it, and the sound of the bell is the music of the life.
One day, in a Tibetan temple, my daughters turned an enormous prayer wheel : while turning, they laughed, they laughed, and it was a very beautiful rite. The children are very bright for the rites.
Kosen

[Jiki22]

Thank you for this topic

my practice in the Dojo is like in the youtube film (see Jundo reaction)
a bit less big :-)
but the text are the same (we chant in japanese),
the setting is the same,
the bells are the same,
just in the weekends,
in the week we do without the chants.

for me
the rituals are a preparation to start/end Zazen
to train concentration in the moment,
the harmony/unity with the others,
it brings calm and let you forget all what has happen before,
the respect to all.

with rituals I understand chanting, a bell,
a bow, a gassho,
wearing the rakusu or a kimono,
or putting shoes aside.

[Kaishin]

Thanks for bringing up this topic, Kirk--you are not alone. In my case, I did start to look deeply at my resistance to these rituals. For most of my adult life, I was staunchly anti-religious. In fact, I don't think it's an overstatement to say that I viewed the devoutly religious (especially those of the Abrahamic traditions I grew up around) with disdain, seeing them as simple-minded, foolish, and callow. Just a bunch of superstitious sheep.

When I began to practice, I was very drawn to the just-sitting style of Soto, but very uncomfortable with bowing, sewing, chanting, etc. As I looked deeper, my discomfort became obvious: I was getting involved in activities that my prior self would have found ridiculous.

Ego strike #1.

Further still, I began to question that if I, a reasonably rational, skeptical, logical person could accept and even participate in such activities for the purposes at hand... well... then maybe all those other "crazy" religious people were not what I had made them out to be. Maybe, just maybe, my arrogant assessment of them was--gasp!--inaccurate. And of course that should have been clear. People aren't so simple. Even among the devoutly religious, there is unbelievable variance in their beliefs, practices, and so forth. Ultimately, I had to accept something even worse: my assessments of others are based on my own deluded, clouded thought processes. I am ignorant and not awake.

Ego Strike #2

Now the reason for my reluctance/discomfort is clear: two big strikes against my ever-so-precious ego, my intellectual arrogance, and of course, my fear.

I'm sure there are other reasons lurking as well, but these are the ones I know are active.

So I just do the rituals and practices, setting judgment aside as best I can (I'm not perfect and still struggle of course). Doing so has helped me tremendously, as it helps me to see more deeply into my own thoughts, words, and deeds.

Glad to see you will be participating in Jukai this year, Kirk!

[Emmet]

Hi,
This is a great thread.

I think-feel the individual and the tradition should merge and be in balance. That means entering the ritual fully. That means the ritual has to reckon with you and you with it. From this the rituial may be changed in its new blood-body (you), just as you will become the timeless ritual by giving yourself over to it.

It's too early for me to know what is happening in this slow process. And so I just practice.

Thank you all for your insights.

Gassho
Myozan

Today, with the rising of the full moon, I prepare myself. When ready, I recite the Verse of the Kesa before donning my rakuzu, light the candles on the altar, offer the incense, bow, and enter fully into the Ryaku Fusatsu. Foolish? Perhaps, but I'm content to sit with Ryōkan:

"Last year, I was just a foolish monk.
This year, no change."