Yunmen Wenyan [W-G: Yun-men Wen-yen / J: Ummon Bun’en]

 

A student asked Yunmen, “When the tree withers and the leaves fall, what’s that?”          

Yunmen replied, “The Golden Wind reveals itself.”

Zen Masters of China: 270-77, 278, 279, 280

The Story of Zen: 29, 161

Fayan Wenyi [W-G: Fa-yen Wen-i / J: Hogen Bun’eki]

After completing his training with Luohan Chichen, Fayan Wenyi became a teacher in his own right.

A student named Hsuanze came to the temple and took part in the daily life of the monastery but never made use of the opportunity for private interviews with the teacher which is a standard tool used to hone the understanding of Zen students. One day, Fayan asked Hsuanze why he had not sought to take part in these interviews.

“When studying with my previous teacher,” Hsuanze explained, “it was my good fortune to have my mind’s eye opened somewhat, and I believe I’ve acquired some insight into this matter of Zen.”

“Is that so,” Fayan said. “So, tell me about this insight.”

“When I asked my Master who the Buddha was, he told me, ‘Bingting comes for fire.’”

“That’s a fine reply,” Fayan said with admiration. “However, I’m afraid that you might have misunderstood what your master was saying. Tell me, in your own words, what do you think he meant?”

“Well,” the student replied, “Bingting is the god of fire, and so, of course, his nature is fire. It’s clearly ridiculous to suggest that one whose nature is fire should have to come for fire. In the same way, the nature of human beings is Buddha-nature; so it’s just as ridiculous for one whose nature is already Buddha-awareness to ask another who the Buddha was.”

“Uh-huh!” said Fayan, nodding his head. “It’s as I expected. You didn’t understand.”

“I didn’t?” the student said with surprise. “In that case, please instruct me. What would you say?”

 “Very well, ask me your question.”

 "All right: Who is the Buddha?”

 “Bingting comes for fire,” Fayan replied.

 Zen Masters of China: 259-65

Luohan Chichen [W-G: Lo-han Kuei-ch’en / J: Rakan Keishin]

The scholar Fayan Wenyi, after completing his academic studies, undertook a tour of the major Buddhist centers then current in China. He had not intended to visit Zen Master Luohan Chichen, but, as it happened, a rain storm drove him to seek shelter at Luohan’s temple. Not much comfort was found in the old temple which was in such poor repair that the rain and wind came unimpeded through the walls and rafters; however, Luohan made his guest as welcome as possible under the circumstances, then asked him, “Where are you going to in this weather?”

Fayen was wandering from place to place with no particular itinerary. So he answered truthfully, “I don’t know.”

“Not knowing is the better way,” Luohan said.

Fayen was unsure what the teacher meant by that remark, and he decided to stay with Luohan for a while. During the formal meetings between teacher and student, Fayen would often reply to Luohan’s questions with quotations from the Avatamsaka Sutra which he had studied extensively. Luohan dismissed these replies, telling Fayen, “That isn’t the teaching of the Buddha.”

Eventually, Fayen had exhausted all that he had thought he had learned as a result of his studies, and, in despair, he told Luohan, “I’ve nothing left, neither words nor concepts.”

“In the true Buddhist understanding,” Luohan told him, “all things present themselves.”

Zen Masters of China: 259

Xuansha Shibei [W-G: Hsuan-sha Hsi-pei / J: Gensa Shibi]

 

A military commander was having tea with Xuansha Shibei and asked, “What is meant by the statement that ‘people don’t know it even when they’re making use of it’?”

Xuansha offered the commander a rice cake. The commander accepted it, ate it, and then, after a while, put his question a second time.

“Just that we make use of it every day and yet we fail to recognize it,” Xuansha replied.

Zen Masters of China: 258

Shishuang Chuyuan [W-G: Shih-shuang Ch’u-yuan / Sekiso Soen]

Addressing his disciples, Shishuang Chuyuan said: “As soon as one particle of dust is raised, the great earth manifests itself there in its entirety. In one lion are revealed millions of lions, and in millions of lions is revealed one lion. Thousands of them there are indeed, but you need to know just one.”

Then he raised his staff, saying, “Here’s my staff. So now, tell me, where’s the one lion?”

When no one in the assembly replied, he shouted “Ho!” Then he set the staff down and left the room.

Zen Masters of China: 253-54

The Story of Zen: 190

Fenyang Shanzhao [W-G: Fen-yang Shan-chao / J: Fun’yo Zensho]

A monk once asked Fenyang Shanzhao, “What is Dao?”

“Emptiness unobstructed. One wanders as one desires.”

The monk bowed his thanks, and Fenyang asked, “How do you understand Dao?”

The monk stood silent.

“You might be able to mount the tiger,” Fenyang said, “but you don’t know how to get off.”      

Zen Masters of China: 251-52, 253