A while back I posted on my blog a note about the anniversary of the convening of the council now called Nicea I. I opined how this could be seen as the end of the glorious mess that was early Christianity as the emperor Constantine began to remake the Christian church in his own image.
One of the commentators at the blog opined that he saw some parallels between this and the creation of an organization of Soto Zen clergy in the United States. I tried to respond. But, I found my words were either simply dismissive or insulting. Actually, for the most part my attempted responses included both. So, I decided to let it rest for a bit, and to see if I could come up with something that might be useful.
Well, here it is. My attempt at a brief response with a little less bile. I know, its still something of a rant. But, I hope, it is useful for those genuinely trying to understand what Zen in fact is.
Here’s a big part of my emotional part in this. I am, frankly, flabbergasted that so many North Americans interested in Zen, some actual practitioners, think that “real” Zen has something to do with meditation, but otherwise is a completely anarchic thing. For them Zen is all about the individual without apparent reference to any authority or responsibility of obligation beyond one’s own realization or ego.
As to which, realization or ego, who knows? It’s all totally subjective. Or, subjective beyond one other person having at one time saying he (almost always he) thought this priest or teacher might possibly, maybe, have some insight. After that, on to the anything goes.
This is a pretty common view. It’s especially popular on the interwebs. And it has some history. I find it a blending of the “pure experience” description of Zen first presented in the West by D. T. Suzuki, and then broadcast widely by Alan Watts. It is then mixed up in an unholy cocktail with a magical belief in Dharma transmission. There are a lot of people who can be blamed for the overselling of dharma transmission. It’s sort of a Zen thing, with a long and complicated history.
However, this view completely ignores the broader historical contexts of what Zen actually is and how it is actually practiced beyond the spare practice of meditation and the myth of dharma transmission. People in the West beginning Zen practice in the middle of the twentieth century have some excuse. There wasn’t a lot written, and even less of a scholarly nature. Not so today. Zen’s history and practices are accessible. And if people claim to be Zen practitioners, I wish they would want to learn a little bit about their tradition and where it came from. (Here’s one short book about the history and the myth that might prove helpful.)
Here’s the deal in short hand. Zen is a human thing, with some worthy aspects and some problematic aspects. Elevating dharma transmission to something transcendent, unconnected to the mess that is actually our lives, and to our deep insight of our interconnectedness is a serious mistake.
Not only does a reductive and frankly magical view of ordination and dharma transmission do no one any good, it is actually damaging to people seeking healing in this burning world. This is tragic. Because Zen, I believe with all my heart, is something that can help those who are suffering, those who are lost, those who need healing.
This Zen that actually helps is about a transformative insight, a meditation practice, actually, two that help us find our way to that insight, together with larger practice contexts in monastery and temple, and with that institutions that prepare and support those who teach the practices.
We undertake this path. And yes it has magical moments. It is a way of opening our hearts and minds, and discovering who and what we really are. Zen is about nothing so much as human beings taking something wonderful and trying to live into it, support it, and transmit it over generations. It is a most human thing.
And so, of course, Zen has all the baggage and glory of being a simple human project. I’m all for the wildcat spiritual person. I’ve been told I have a bit of an anarchic color to my aura. And I know some find that unlikely. After all I’ve been involved in religious institutions all of my adult life. Whatever, I have few illusions about our communities. They’re human endeavors, with all that is good and bad. So, if you want, avoid them. All well and good. But know what you’re doing, and the context of what you’re doing.
Zen is something that has emerged over ages, and that has shifted each time it has encountered a new culture. That part, and an essential part, is all about people living in community. And that means the creation of formal ways of relating. These ways of relating can be loose, and they can be tight. But, for something to happen over time, it is, I’m guessing, not possible without some form of communities of accountability, i.e. institutions.
There are reasons for the confusion of noise and message. For one thing, an important thing, we are at the dawn of the new iteration that is Zen in the West. It includes those who have given their lives to the practice as it was taught in Japan and Korea and China and Vietnam. Each of these ways have commonalities, and each have substantial differences.
Those who faithfully follow those traditions deserve to be listened to. And we need to attend to how they’ve organized themselves. We don’t have to all do it the same way. But we need to know what they’ve doing, if we want our own doing to be of any use beyond stroking egos.
Gloriously, things are happening here in the West. Much of it is amazing and beautiful. New styles are emerging. These new forms include fidelity to practice but with new wrinkles. For instance those who embrace monastic training find their style more resembling Western monasticism than that which would be found in Japan or Korea or China. This presents new foci, new senses of where to give one’s attention.
Another form that is emerging is retreat driven, where formation is found in one, three, five, and seven-day intensives. Others think sitting with some regularity is sufficient. Others that attending weekend workshops for a couple of years makes for adequate preparation to teach. And some think that so long as dharma transmission is given, it is Zen, no matter what else is or is not involved. Sorting this all out, separating wheat from chaff is going to be a project for several generations.
And. Trying to find some kind of connection between an emperor shaping a church into his own image and a gathering of highly trained practitioners hoping to find commonalities and best practices for their community is an insult. Disrespecting a bunch of people who have clearly given their lives to the Zen project and are attempting to find common standards is of no help in furthering the way.
One may not find resonance with the project. I get that. No problem. And absolutely that doesn’t mean one automatically isn’t doing Zen. Wildcats, individuals setting out to practice on their own has always been part of the package. And this is a time of experimentation. So, let a hundred flowers bloom.
Also. Don’t get me wrong. I like Alan Watts. Without Alan Watts I wouldn’t be a Zen practitioner. But there’s more to Zen than he dreamed of. Even D. T. Suzuki, who was and remains so important, only presented a glimpse of an aspect of the Zen way. And today we have access to so much more. Read some books, for goodness sake. Move a little beyond the popular introductions. Read a little history. It almost certainly won’t kill you.
If you want to be of use on the Zen way, for yourself at least, and hopefully for others, find some people who are standing in the way, not some facsimile of the way that requires nothing of you beyond maybe undergoing some ceremonies, but who are actually practicing in the tradition in some recognizably connected-with-the-broader-tradition way.
It might help you to heal.
It might help this poor broken world to heal.
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