A Stone Bridge? The Teacher-Student Relationship in Zen

A Stone Bridge? The Teacher-Student Relationship in Zen November 8, 2022

A monk asked Zhaozhou, “For a long time I’ve heard about Zhaozhou’s stone bridge. Coming here, I only see a simple log bridge.”

Zhou said, “You only see the simple log bridge, but don’t see the stone bridge.”

The monk said, ”What is the stone bridge like?”

Zhao said, “Carries donkeys, carries horses.”

– Blue Cliff Record 52

“Zhaozhou” is both a province in ancient China with a famous bridge and an important Zen teacher who not only lived 120 years (778-897), but whose mu koan has opened the Way for so many.

The bridge in the old province of Zhao is still there (see above photo) and is clearly a stone bridge. “Ānjì Qiáo, or ‘Safe crossing bridge’ is the world’s oldest open-spandrel segmental arch bridge of stone construction. Credited to the design of a craftsman named Li Chun, the bridge was constructed in the years 595-605. Located in the southern part of modern Hebei Province, it is the oldest standing bridge in China.”

It’s even in Wikipedia, so what’s this monk babbling on about?

The “safe-crossing bridge” was already pushing three hundred years old at the time this monk met Zhaozhou. But they didn’t come to sight-see. Playing with place and person, artifice and true, means for crossing over and the just-now teacher sitting before them, they came to check out old Zhaozhou – so they’re clearly are not just a Zen tourist.

What they find is a simple log bridge – a broken-down old guy (and for those who have eyes to see, according to Zen lore, someone who emitted light from his mouth when he spoke). The characters that are frequently translated as “simple log bridge,” 獨木橋, have the figurative meaning of “a difficult path.” So taking up crossing the Zhaozhou bridge may not be a safe crossing after all. Nonetheless, this bridge, whether stone or simple log, is a crossing from one shore to the other.

Zhaozhou responds as any bridge would – by showing the monk their true position. Dogen Zenji called this “identity action.” Katagiri Roshi called it “putting others in your shoes.”

“You only see the simple log bridge, but don’t see the stone bridge.”

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In so doing, Zhaozhou presents himself as the ancient bridge and carries whatever comes, just like the ancient mirror reflecting whatever appears. The student (whoever you are) gets nothing other than what the student brings. Fortunately, nothing else is necessary to realize our essential nature and to do the steadying work of bridge crossing.

The monk seems to have gotten a glimpse of Zhaozhou as the real deal, so they ask what that’s like. Zhaozhou says that this bridge is there for all – stubborn homely donkeys and swift elegant horses. But does this monk then begin crossing? Would you? Do you?

For the great function of the bridge, most translations have something like “It lets donkeys cross, it lets horses cross.” The original, 渡驢渡馬, could also be read as more active: “Carries donkeys, carries horses.” This reading is more in line with the process of teaching where the teacher is engaged in the student’s process. The body, heart, and mind of the teacher’s training is what connects this shore and the other shore. The student can choose to make use of it, spanning that same illusory chasm, or not.

How?

The teacher offers connection. The student offers great faith. The teacher bridging and the student moving makes the teacher a teacher, makes the student a student, and makes the bridge a bridge. Just as the teacher, like old Zhaozhou, becomes the student, in order for the teacher to transmit the buddhadharma to the student, the student must become the teacher.

The simple truth, though, is that sometimes people come from afar and do not even see the passageway right before their very eyes. Indeed, it seems that most folks interested in bridges only examine them from the safety and comfort of their present nest. Some choose not to lay down what they need to lay down in order to start (or continue) the journey (like that 190 lbs. backpack, for example, even though it is a popular name brand – “Self Clinging” – you gotta lay it down).

Some will be so enamored with the bridge that their feet don’t touch the ground and so they won’t really get anywhere. Some will become bridge crossers and start out across the bridge, but then get distracted with the view or the myriad other things one can do with this life. Some will take a few steps and declare prematurely that they’ve been on the other side all along. Some will be convinced that they can’t do it (even while they are doing it) and return to the shore they know – the suffering of grasping and attachment.

And all of that is okay. Truly and completely. Once the bridge-seeking heart is aroused, perfumed by suchness, no matter how long it takes, it’ll find a way through whether it will be across this bridge or some other. This I believe.

And there are those, although they may be a few, who will find a bridge and step steadily and bravely. They might even continue walking until they become the bridge themselves, stone or simple log (whoever they are, radiant in their own beauty), so that those in the next generation will have a living bridge to cross over.

So Dogen (1200-1253) said,

Making it personal, there is a bridge for crossing over.

Bodhisattva virtue returns like the ocean.

This cannot be measured.

Diligently uplift this and offer it respectfully!

This is unfathomable.

Please accept it with respect and gratitude.


Dōshō Port began practicing Zen in 1977 and now co-teaches with his wife, Tetsugan Zummach Sensei, with the Vine of Obstacles Zen, an online training group. Dōshō received dharma transmission from Dainin Katagiri Rōshi and inka shōmei from James Myōun Ford Rōshi in the Harada-Yasutani lineage. He is also the author of Keep Me In Your Heart a While: The Haunting Zen of Dainin Katagiri. Dōshō’s translation and commentary on The Record of Empty Hall: One Hundred Classic Koans, was published in 2021 (Shambhala). His third book, Going Through the Mystery’s One Hundred Questions, is due out in late 2022. Click here to support the teaching practice of Dōshō Rōshi.


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