Dokyo Etan [Shoju Rojin]

One evening, Shido Munan, called his disciple, Dokyo Etan, to his quarters. The master was seated in front of a brazier of coals which warmed the chilly room. “I’m old,” he told Etan, “and you alone of my disciples have demonstrated the capacity to carry on my teaching.”

Etan bowed in silence.

Munan brought out a manuscript and presented it to the younger man. “This is a text which I received from my teacher, Gudo Toshoku, who received it in turn from his teacher, and so on. I’ve added some notes in which I express my understanding.  It’s an important record, and I’m entrusting it to you.”

“If it’s so important, perhaps you should keep it,” Etan said, gently pressing the manuscript back into Munan’s hands.

“I want you to have it as evidence that you’re my successor,” Munan said, once again presenting it to Etan.

“You used no written text when I received your teaching; I don’t need one now.”

“That’s true,” Munan admitted, “but the document has been passed from teacher to student for seven generations, so please accept it as a symbol that you’re the heir of that teaching.”

Munan placed the manuscript in Etan’s lap. Etan took it up and tossed it onto the coals of the brazier.

“What are you doing!” Munan shouted, angrily.

“What are you saying!” Etan shouted, just as loudly.

Zen Masters of Japan: 226-28, 233

The Story of Zen: 190-92       

Matsuo Basho

Matsuo Basho is revered as one of Japan’s finest composers of haiku. An awareness of the transience of life drove him to seek instruction in Zen from a master named Butcho. Basho briefly considered becoming a monk but in the end remained a layman. He did, however, commit himself seriously to the practice of zazen under Butcho’s direction.

Over and over Butcho would challenge Basho to express his understanding of Buddhism, and the student would reply by quoting sutras he had read while a student in Kyoto or by making reference to Chinese or Japanese Zen masters of the past.

“These are the words of others,” Butcho chided him. “Let me hear your words.”

Basho had no reply. Then one day, Butcho passed by the monastery pond where Basho was engaged in meditation. “How is your practice proceeding?” he inquired.

Basho automatically answered poetically. “After the rains, the grass is greener than ever.”

“So,” Butcho shot back, “tell me of the nature of Buddhism before the greenness of the grass.”

Basho was stymied for a moment. Then the event took place which brought him to awakening. There was a splash in the pond.  “A frog jumps into the water,” Basho said. “Hear the sound!”

Later he re-worked this into his best known koan—which is even briefer in its English rendition than it is in Japanese.

An old pond

A frog jumps in

Water sound!

 

Zen Masters of Japan: 212-21

The Story of Zen: 229, 281

Bankei Yotaku

A priest from a rival sect once challenged Bankei Yotaku saying, “The founder of our sect had such powers that if an attendant held up a sheet of paper on one side of the river, he could write the name of the Buddha in the air on the other side of the river, and it would appear on the paper.  What do you think of that?”

“Not much.  Stage magicians are capable of much more spectacular feats,” Bankei scoffed.  “But that isn’t the way of Zen.”

“No?  What ‘feats’ are you capable of?”

“When I’m hungry, I eat; when I’m thirsty, I drink; when tired, I sleep.”

Zen Masters of Japan: 194-208

Dokutan Shokei

A story is told about a devout nembutsu practitioner named Enjo who kept the name of the Amida Buddha in mind constantly both day and night. Eventually through this method he attained awakening and went to Manpukuji to have the abbot, Dokutan Shokei, confirm it.

When Dokutan saw him, he asked, “Where do you come from?”

“Yamashiro,” Enjo replied.

“What practice do you follow?”

“Pure Land.”

“Tell me then, how old is Amida Buddha?”

“The same age as I am.”

“How old are you?”

“The same age as Amida Buddha.”

“And where is Amida Buddha now?”

Enjo closed his left fist and raised it.

“Ah!” Dokutan said, delighted. “You are indeed a follower of the Pure Land!”

Zen Masters of Japan: 192-93