I’ve spent a considerable amount of time with my friend Tim Buckley over the last several months as he faced his diagnosis and realized that there was a finite limit on the number of things he wanted to accomplish – a matter of too many things to do and not enough time to finish them in – he came face to face with the great matter – the fact of his own demise. In this time he began to wonder, as he approached dharma transmission, what exactly is transmitted in a particular lineage. Put another way, what is the essence that is transmitted?
He was quick to point out that this “essence” often distinguishes one lineage from another. He asked me what the essence of my lineage was – and this served as material for a series of conversations through the late summer, autumn, and into early winter. Though there is no one “right” answer, I’d like to share with you my thoughts on this question as it pertains to our lineage, and it’s relationship to the precepts as we approach a Jukai ceremony later this week.
The Renpo Niwa / Gudo Nishijima lineage in which our Teacher Jundo (and we) reside is best known I believe for the belief that zen practice and enlightenment are not restricted to a monastic setting or particular social class or group – i.e., monks, warriors, or landed nobility and aristocrats. Renpo Niwa began ordaining people outside of Eiheiji – Gudo Nishijima being an example. Perhaps he realized that Zen was in meed of diversification, even reinvigoration - monastic walls had begun to stifle Zen Buddhism and render it socially and ontologically arteriosclerotic. Our lineage is known for breaking down the boundaries between ordained and monastic practice – Nishijima and our teacher Jundo, and Nishijima’s other dharma heirs (Gustav Erickson and Bard Warner for example) are “out in the world” – they have professional lives and day jobs in addition to their zen ministries…..
Our lineage represents the belief that zen must evolve if it is to be resilient, lively, and relevant. Our place of practice is not only the zendo, it is our families, the kitchen, the backyard, the place of employment, the hospital, the mountaintop. Life presents us with a dizzying number of opportunities to practice – and as a Sangha we support one another in that practice. We are “good friends” to one another – priests are not authority figures or disciplinarians. We are not a lineage of Samurai or Tokugawa era landholders – our zen is not martial – you might have heard the term “farmer zen” – ours is a lineage of householders who work the land, work the field and fabric of life. Our teachers and priests are guides – fellow practitioners whose human, errors, missteps and suffering are just as instructive as their dharma talks – maybe more so.
Which brings us to the precepts. The precepts are not a list of proscriptions or rules to be followed on a checklist – this is to render them lifeless, uninspiring, and even unhelpful. The precepts are something we live in every moment of our lives – and we take vows to uphold them, to strive to follow them. And then two minutes later, we invariably break them.
Why then take vows to uphold precepts knowing we shall fail, over and over, in the process? Why will we make in the course of our practice and lives what my dear friend Zenshin Tim Buckley terms “mistake after mistake?”
These mistakes provide an endless source of material for our practice. And as Kosho Uchiyama teaches us, we enter the cycle of vow and repentance. We take vows knowing that as human beings we shall fall short. And we also vow to repent – to take responsibility for our actions and set about on the path once again - a journey that will take all our lives.
The precepts provide a guide for achieving the clarity that is needed to “realize” practice and our lives in the present moment – if we abuse sexuality, misuse intoxicants, use deceitful or harmful speech, or disparage the three treasures, there is all sorts of clutter between us and a clear path to freedom. The precepts provide the means to existential freedom – and clarity of practice. "It" is available to us here - now - and the precepts point us in that direction. It is perhaps our destiny and nature to look for things everywhere but right in front of us - which is why we have practice, and guidelines to practice. The precepts are breadcrumbs that provide a trail back to ourselves . Our sanghamates are fellow travelers we meet along the way. We share sustenance and stories, then go on our way.
Our lineage holds that all our lives are our practice – that the walls of our zendo are delineated by heaven and earth an all that is in between. Our lineage stands for the knowledge that where those who follow us take the tradition is uncharted territory – there is great faith – faith that the tradition will take forms we do not recognize and at the same time remain true to its origins – and great doubt – doubt sufficient to encourage a lifelong search for individual truth – and the great determination to stay on this difficult path.
For these dynamics to carry the tradition forward Zen must remain resilient, lively, even playful – it must leave the walls of convention – its practitioners are responsible for its essence and at the same time for its freedom.
Please consider this as you prepare for Jukai, and support one another in practice. Where are you going to take your practice? Where will you take our tradition? How are you going to care for it? How will you give it meaning? How are you going to live it?
We are all responsible. Not just priests, but all of us. Where it goes is up to you.
This, I would submit to you, is the essence of our lineage.
Peace, explore, and never give up.
Deep bows
Yugen
He was quick to point out that this “essence” often distinguishes one lineage from another. He asked me what the essence of my lineage was – and this served as material for a series of conversations through the late summer, autumn, and into early winter. Though there is no one “right” answer, I’d like to share with you my thoughts on this question as it pertains to our lineage, and it’s relationship to the precepts as we approach a Jukai ceremony later this week.
The Renpo Niwa / Gudo Nishijima lineage in which our Teacher Jundo (and we) reside is best known I believe for the belief that zen practice and enlightenment are not restricted to a monastic setting or particular social class or group – i.e., monks, warriors, or landed nobility and aristocrats. Renpo Niwa began ordaining people outside of Eiheiji – Gudo Nishijima being an example. Perhaps he realized that Zen was in meed of diversification, even reinvigoration - monastic walls had begun to stifle Zen Buddhism and render it socially and ontologically arteriosclerotic. Our lineage is known for breaking down the boundaries between ordained and monastic practice – Nishijima and our teacher Jundo, and Nishijima’s other dharma heirs (Gustav Erickson and Bard Warner for example) are “out in the world” – they have professional lives and day jobs in addition to their zen ministries…..
Our lineage represents the belief that zen must evolve if it is to be resilient, lively, and relevant. Our place of practice is not only the zendo, it is our families, the kitchen, the backyard, the place of employment, the hospital, the mountaintop. Life presents us with a dizzying number of opportunities to practice – and as a Sangha we support one another in that practice. We are “good friends” to one another – priests are not authority figures or disciplinarians. We are not a lineage of Samurai or Tokugawa era landholders – our zen is not martial – you might have heard the term “farmer zen” – ours is a lineage of householders who work the land, work the field and fabric of life. Our teachers and priests are guides – fellow practitioners whose human, errors, missteps and suffering are just as instructive as their dharma talks – maybe more so.
Which brings us to the precepts. The precepts are not a list of proscriptions or rules to be followed on a checklist – this is to render them lifeless, uninspiring, and even unhelpful. The precepts are something we live in every moment of our lives – and we take vows to uphold them, to strive to follow them. And then two minutes later, we invariably break them.
Why then take vows to uphold precepts knowing we shall fail, over and over, in the process? Why will we make in the course of our practice and lives what my dear friend Zenshin Tim Buckley terms “mistake after mistake?”
These mistakes provide an endless source of material for our practice. And as Kosho Uchiyama teaches us, we enter the cycle of vow and repentance. We take vows knowing that as human beings we shall fall short. And we also vow to repent – to take responsibility for our actions and set about on the path once again - a journey that will take all our lives.
The precepts provide a guide for achieving the clarity that is needed to “realize” practice and our lives in the present moment – if we abuse sexuality, misuse intoxicants, use deceitful or harmful speech, or disparage the three treasures, there is all sorts of clutter between us and a clear path to freedom. The precepts provide the means to existential freedom – and clarity of practice. "It" is available to us here - now - and the precepts point us in that direction. It is perhaps our destiny and nature to look for things everywhere but right in front of us - which is why we have practice, and guidelines to practice. The precepts are breadcrumbs that provide a trail back to ourselves . Our sanghamates are fellow travelers we meet along the way. We share sustenance and stories, then go on our way.
Our lineage holds that all our lives are our practice – that the walls of our zendo are delineated by heaven and earth an all that is in between. Our lineage stands for the knowledge that where those who follow us take the tradition is uncharted territory – there is great faith – faith that the tradition will take forms we do not recognize and at the same time remain true to its origins – and great doubt – doubt sufficient to encourage a lifelong search for individual truth – and the great determination to stay on this difficult path.
For these dynamics to carry the tradition forward Zen must remain resilient, lively, even playful – it must leave the walls of convention – its practitioners are responsible for its essence and at the same time for its freedom.
Please consider this as you prepare for Jukai, and support one another in practice. Where are you going to take your practice? Where will you take our tradition? How are you going to care for it? How will you give it meaning? How are you going to live it?
We are all responsible. Not just priests, but all of us. Where it goes is up to you.
This, I would submit to you, is the essence of our lineage.
Peace, explore, and never give up.
Deep bows
Yugen
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