Yanguan Qian [W-G: Yen-kuan Ch’i-an / J: Enkan Sai’an]

                An inquirer asked Yanguan Qian, “Who was the Buddha?”

                Yanguan replied by requesting of his visitor, “Would you please pass me that water-pitcher.”    

                The inquirer looked around, saw the pitcher, and passed it to the master.  Yanguan poured himself a cup of water and then asked the visitor to replace the pitcher.  The visitor did so, then, thinking that perhaps Yanguan had not heard his original question, put it again: “About the Buddha—who was he?”

                “Oh, yes,” Yanguan said.  “Well, you know, he’s been dead a long time now.”

[Yanguan Qian – Zen Masters of China: 19, 140,149; The Story of Zen: 19]

Caoshan Benji [W-G: Ts’ao-shan Pen-chi / J: Sozan Honjaku]

                Caoshan Benji studied with Dongshan Liangjie until his own awakening was deep enough for him to go off on his on.  As he prepared to leave the monastery, Dongshan came to see him and asked, “Where will you go?”

                “I’m not going anywhere different,” Benji told him.

                “If you’re not going to anywhere different, how can there be ‘going’?”

                “I’m going, but not to anywhere different.”

[Caoshan Benji – Zen Masters of China: 134-37; The Story of Zen: 156]

Dongshan Liangjie [W-G:Tung-shan Liang-chieh / J: Tozan Ryokai]

A monk once complained to Dongshan Liangji about the discomforts of the monastery, which was too cold in winter and too warm in the summer.  He asked the master how one could avoid these discomforts.  Dongshan told him, “Go where there is neither cold nor heat.”

                “Where’s that?”

                “When cold, let the cold kill you; when hot, let the heat kill you.” 

[Dongshan Liangjie – Zen Masters of China: 126-37; The Story of Zen: 154-56]

Jiashan Shanhui [W-G: Chia-shan Shan-hui / J: Kassan Zenne]

                Jiashan Shanhui was a student of the sutras and was a recognized “lecture master.”  He attracted large audiences to his presentations.  At one of these, a listener asked, “What is the Dharmakaya?”

                “It’s without form,” Jiashan said.

                “What then is the true eye of the Dharma which, it is claimed, Buddha passed onto Mahakasyapa?”

                “It’s without flaw.”

                Daowu Yuanjie was in the lecture hall when this exchange took place, and he laughed out loud.

                Jiashan demanded, “Why are you laughing?”

                “You might understand the sutras, but you still need a master to guide you to the discovery of your Buddha-nature.”

                “Where would I find such a man?”

                “Go see the Boatman Monk.  He hasn’t a tile to cover his head nor a speck of earth to stand upon.”

                Jiashan gave up lecturing and sought out Chunzi Decheng.  It was a long journey, and Jiashan’s traveling clothes were dusty and soiled by the time he finally came to the ferryman.  When Chunzi saw Jiashan approaching, he shouted, “Monk, at what monastery do you reside?”

                “I’m not a resident of any monastery otherwise I wouldn’t look like this.”

                “So what do you look like?” the Boatman Monk asked.

                “I’m beyond sight and sound and consciousness.”

                “Is that so?” Chunzi said, then he took hold of Jiashan and pushed him into the river, holding his head under water for a long while before letting him up.  “Speak now!” Chunzi demanded, but as soon as Jiashan opened his mouth, the ferryman plunged him into the water yet again.  “Speak!” Chunzi shouted.  Jiashan tried again and was submerged a third time.  On this occasion, he came to awakening, and when Chunzi let him up, he bowed in gratitude.

[Jiashan Shanhui – Zen Masters of China: 120-22]