
|
|
The Americanization of Zen ~ Gael
Hodgkins and Bill Devall Heart Song ~ Mitch Trachtenberg In the Lineage of Good Company ~ Lynda McDevitt
Skip the car! ~ Barry Evans Dharma Gates Are Boundless: A Sangha Column ~ edited by Michael Quam Buddhist Peace Fellowship: In the News
Gael Hodgkins and Bill Devall In the following essay, Gael Hodgkins and Bill
Devall present a
provocative set of issues and questions regarding the Americanization
of Zen. In future issues of Rin Shin-ji Voices we will reserve space for creative
and lively responses (notice we didn’t say reactions) on this general
topic. So, please send your own thoughts, and please,
for editorial
reasons, keep
your responses under 1000 words. We look forward to a long
conversation, rich and deep, in the pages of this journal. (The
Editors) “The Americanization of Zen” is the topic we were asked to address by
the editorial board of Rin Shin-ji Voices. Further,
it was suggested that the article be an introductory one, laying out
some of the broader issues this topic inspires and serving as a
“launching point for an ongoing dialogue for future newsletters.” Overarching this thought-provoking subject is Shakyamuni Buddha’s
reasons for teaching the dharma. It will be remembered that after his
enlightenment, he was reluctant to teach what he had learned because
he thought his teaching would not be understood. The god Brahma
appeared to him and reminded him that “there are beings with but
little dust in their eyes” and so the Buddha Shakymuni went on to
teach for 40 years. In more than one place in the Pali Canon he
asserted his motivation to be “for the welfare and happiness of the
multitude, out of compassion for the world, for the benefit, welfare
and happiness” of all sentient beings. Following his dharma, it is
suggested that the Americanization of Zen be considered with this
teaching in mind: What provides for the welfare and happiness of all
sentient and non-sentient beings? Suggested Questions for dialogue
Case Example The use of the kyosaku (“The Stick”) is an example
of one part of practice which is dropping off in Americanized Zen.
This accommodation to American culture is worth noting because it
resonates with other of the broader issues we have chosen for
discussion: authority, individuality, puritanism. A story is related
by Karen Mueller who heard it from Reb Anderson who was witness to it
at Tassajara. During sesshin, the kyosaku was being used liberally,
with the wielder going up and down the aisles whacking students. When
he came to one student (male), that student whirled around, grabbed
the stick by its opposite end, and threw the wielder and student onto
the zendo floor in a tussel. The monk in charge, failing in his
effort at equanimity, dropped his jaw and sat stupefied. Thus came about, intentionally or unintentionally, an example of the
Americanization of Zen.
These examples show changes in zen in America but they also raise the
question of how change happens. Is it spontaneous? Does a teacher
make the change? Is it voted on? Does American pragmatism contribute
to the “Americanization of Zen”? ISSUES IN AMERICAN ZEN
Introduction Over ten years ago authors of an article in The
Pacific World: Journal of The Institue of Buddhist Studies
wrote that, “The present day challenge to all of Buddhism is to adapt
the essence of the teachings so it is more appropriate to the new
audience, as well as to the rapidly changing audience within.”
Although a definition of “Americanization” is
difficult, that statement adequately addresses the question. A simpler
definition is “adaptation to American culture” and the elements of
American culture we have chosen to lay out include: the Commercialization of Zen; American Precursors; Feminism; Puritanism
and Fundamentalism; Informality; Power/Authority, Majority, Consensus;
Social Justice; Science and Technology; Social Class; and Race.
Power/Authority, Majority, Consensus
Social Justice
We see this reflected in Alan Senuake’s devotion to the teachings of
Martin Luther King, Jr. and in the Buddhist Peace Fellowship. Zen
Buddhists are engaged in prison work, care for the homeless and
witnessing for peace. Early on in Maylie’s visits here, she initiated
an AZG chapter of BASE (Buddhist Alliance for Social Engagement), and
she herself was an ardent activist both in Berkeley and in Arcata.
The 1995 issue of The Pacific World was
a “Special Issue on Buddhism, Medicine, Science, and Technology.” A
salient section offers a rationale for considering the relation
between science and “other systems of thought.” The article,
“Comparing Science and Buddhism,” states, “Because science, whatever
its faults and limitations, is the dominant intellectual mode in our
world, other systems of thought must establish some relationship to
science. To understand a previously remote idea system [Buddhism
implied], one must see how it does or does not resemble more familiar
world views.”
As we were finishing this essay, a sangha member forwarded a
newspaper article about Shin Buddhism in America, also known as Pure
Land (see The New York Times, June 13, 2006, “Buddhism
With a New Mind-Set"). A bishop in that “church” “began offering
meditation several years ago because 60 percent of the people who
called his temple were asking about it.” Clergy members, he said, “are
supposed to respond to the needs of the people” and “any program
including meditation, tai chi, yoga, anything which makes people feel
comfortable, or willing to step into the temples, should be offered.” So, for the welfare and happiness of all beings, what should the
Arcata Zen Group be offering? “The Americanization of zen” is an unfinished story.
Twittering Machine Paul
Klee,
1922
This is what he told his friend Sophie,
who worried way too much. "Sophie, it's all one: the stuff
that's happened and the stuff that hasn't happened yet. These
differences and boundaries? We're making them up. All paths to wisdom
have been there before us and will be there after us. We're not
creating them, just tuning in. They're neither good nor bad --
they're just reality. Their goodness or badness is just our own trip.
You think there's you and it? There isn't: there just *is*. (And
there isn't even that.) There's nothing "out there" at all,
absolutely everything is absolutely nothing. "There's no form, no feelings, no
perceptions, no formations, no consciousness; no eyes, no ears, no
nose, no tongue, no body, no mind; no color, no sound, no smell, no
taste, no touch, nothing to examine. Nothing to be seen, nothing to
be thought, nothing to not-know and not even an end of not-knowing.
Nothing at all, until we become old and die, and we don't do that
either. There's no start, no path, no end, no achievements to seek
out. "Sophie: let go. Stop worrying.
Depend on what *is*. Let your mind take the day off, and you won't
need to fear anything. When you see things clearly, you'll know
you're already exactly where you need to be. "Sophie: you don't have to get it
-- you've got it. Let that sink in, and it'll all be ok. "Sophie, spread the word: let go,
get out there, wake up!" Added comment: "Gate, gate, para gate. Para
sam gate. Bodhi, svaha!" That's it -- the excellent,
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious mantra to which the drumbeat of
the heart sutra serves as preface. Translators generally leave gate...
as a phonetic transliteration of the original Sanskrit, because
mantras are believed to act without rational understanding, bypassing
little mind. Sounds a bit like magical thinking to
me. In fact, in his translation of the heart sutra, Edward Conze
presents the word "mantra" as "spell." Often, after not translating the
mantra, translators remind us that if they had translated it, it
would have come out something like this: "Beyond, beyond,
really beyond. All the way to the other shore. So be it! I acknowledge that this is different in
tone than "let go, get out there, wake up!" Still, I take the heart sutra as an
exhortation and encouragement towards seeking enlightenment, no
matter how contradictory this appears to be to the "nothing to
attain" spirit. That's why I'm comfortable with "let go...
wake up." Adding "get out there" seems to me to honor
the "beyond...to the other shore." If not "get out
there," I'd have been tempted to use "just do it,"
except for that phrase's having been co-opted by Nike, with the
resulting inevitable and unwanted connotations. One other point I should make, lest it
is not totally obvious. I am not a linguist, a scholar of Buddhism,
or even much of a Buddhist. Please don't take this too seriously. Triptych, Heart
Sutra
Lynda McDevitt Now when we chant the Heart Sutra
Barry Evans * Damn, this ice cream
tastes good. Too bad it's going to be over soon. * We spent so much on
getting here, shouldn't I be feeling happier than I am? * This feels so good. Wish
I'd done it before. * What a sunset! Almost as
good as yesterday's! * and etc. We are not built for
chronic happiness. Why not? Because, to a first approximation, our
brains evolved during the Pleistocene epoch. Here's the scenario, one
million BC: Bug, meanwhile, and the
rest of the tribe, are worried about where they should hunt so the
whole tribe (less Ug) can eat. And with the waterhole drying up,
where's the nearest water source? Anxiety is the order of the day.
But they do survive, and reproduce, and we're the result. We're not
designed to be content--we've got Bug's anxiety-prone genes. We worry
and we're unhappy because our genes tell us to be, because that's
what allowed our stone-age ancestors to survive and reproduce. All of which is a great
relief. What, me worry? Of course! I'm supposed to!
We spend at least half our lives in either physical or emotional
discomfort, yet we persist in believing that happiness is our natural,
normal condition and that when were not happy, we're not normal. --Geneen Roth edited by Michael Quam
In this second edition of “Dharma Gates Are Boundless,” we have three
items that reveal moments of dharma, even though they were not composed
with the
express purpose of doing so. For me, and I
suspect for some of my fellow American Buddhists, one of the more
difficult or obscure aspects of traditional Buddhist teaching has
been the concept of karma. One response to such a statement might be
that karma is just how the universe works and so, like gravity, it
doesn’t matter much if you understand it or not, it still happens.
Well, it may not matter much, but I still want to get some glimmer. During a six-year period, 1903-08, the
German poet Rainer Marie Rilke wrote a series of ten letters to Franz
Xaver Kappus, replying to the young man’s letters about the
difficulties of life and art. These letters were later translated by
M. D. Herter Norton and published in a small volume called Letters
to a Young Poet. In Letter Eight, Rilke responds to Kappus’s
account of some great “sadnesses” that have befallen him. The
whole letter is full of rich and deep reflection, but the following
portion contains that glimmer that I have been looking for: Were it possible for us to see
further than our knowledge reaches, and yet a little way beyond the
outworks of our divining, perhaps we would endure our sadnesses with
greater confidence than our joys. For they are the moments when
something new has entered into us, something unknown; our feelings
grow mute in shy perplexity, everything in us withdraws, a stillness
comes, and the new, which no one knows, stands in the midst of it and
is silent. I believe that almost all our
sadnesses are moments of tension that we find paralyzing because we
no longer hear our surprised feelings living. Because we are alone
with the alien thing that has entered into our self; because
everything intimate and accustomed is for an instant taken away;
because we stand in the middle of a transition where we cannot remain
standing. For this reason the sadness too passes: the new thing in
us, the added thing, has entered into our heart, has gone into its
inmost chamber and is not even there any more, is already in our
blood. And we do not learn what it was. We could easily be made to
believe that nothing has happened, and yet we have changed, as a
house changes into which a guest has entered. We cannot say who has
come, perhaps we shall never know, but many signs indicate that the
future enters into us in this way in order to transform itself in us
long before it happens. And this is why it is so important to be
lonely and attentive when one is sad: because the apparently
uneventful and stark moment at which our future sets foot in us is so
much closer to life than that other noisy and fortuitous point of
time at which it happens to us as if from outside. The more still,
more patient and more open we are when we are sad, so much the deeper
and so much the more unswervingly does the new go into us, so much
the better do we make it ours, so much the more will it be our
destiny, and when on some later day it “happens” (that is, steps
forth out of us to others), we shall feel in our inmost selves akin
and near to it. And that is necessary. It is necessary—and toward
this our development will move gradually—that nothing strange
should befall us, but only that which has long belonged to us. We
have already had to rethink so many of our concepts of motion, we
will also gradually learn to realize that that which we call destiny
goes forth from within people, not from without into them. [Letters to a Young Poet, Norton, 1954] The famous Tokyo detective looked as if
he’d taken a shower (in The Best American Poetry 1998;
originally from The New Republic)
Always remember that you’re unique.
Just like everyone else. In keeping with those last words of advice, I’ll close this column. Keep sending me items you think might fit this space.
Humboldt Buddhists call for withdrawal from Iraq Saying the Bush administration has failed “to provide a convincing
justification for the resulting tragedies” from the war in Iraq,
Humboldt County Buddhists are calling for the immediate withdrawal of
U.S. troops from Iraq. ”We, the members of the Humboldt
chapter of the Buddhist Peace Fellowship, believe that the U.S.
government should begin an immediate withdrawal of all U.S. troops from
Iraq,” the contingent said in an e-mail to the Times-Standard. The
e-mail said more than 2,300 U.S. soldiers have been killed in the
conflict and that according to the Iraq Body Count project
(www.iraqbodycount.org), “there have been more than 33,000 Iraqi
civilian deaths.” Mitch Trachtenberg, of the Humboldt
chapter of the Buddhist Peace Fellowship, said Humboldt County's share
of the war, which has cost the U.S. coffers more than $270 billion,
comes to more than $84 million (www.costofwar.com). ”The
amount spent on the war,” Trachtenberg said, is “enough to have ensured
that every child in the world would have been given basic immunizations
for the next 90 years.” ”Three years after invading Iraq,
the Bush administration has yet to provide a convincing justification
for the resulting tragedies,” Trachtenberg said. “We believe the Bush
administration's policies with regard to Iraq have been a moral and
practical disaster for our country and the world, and we join with
others in calling for immediate withdrawal from Iraq.”
(c) 2006
Times-Standard (Eureka, CA) April 11, 2006. All rights reserved.
Reproduced with the permission of Media NewsGroup, Inc. by NewsBank,
Inc. Record Number: 3697622 The Eureka Reporter had two articles on the
International Day in Solidarity with Victims of Torture, in which local
BPF members participated. The web article
("Groups hold vigil against torture tonight," by Rebecca S. Bender) is
still available on-line; it gives some background on the UN Convention
against Torture and includes quotes from an interview with sangha
member Catherine Cascade; the short print article ("Torture Vigil," by Tyson Ritter, July 2, 2006,
p. A7) included this picture: |
Sitting Schedule
Events
Regular Activities
Beginner's Handbook
Dharma Talks - Written
Dharma Talks - Audio
Voices
Teacher Search
Prison Sanghas
Local BPF
Work Practice
Maylie Scott
History
Newsletter
Donate
Contact Info
Guidelines
Links