The Bodhisattva's Vows
The Bodhisattva's Vows
Wiggling Within An Empty World
The following is an approximate transcript of the Dharma Talk I delivered as part of O-An Zendo’s Sunday Program on July 14th, 2024. You can also listen to a live recording of the talk.
Enjoy.
Good morning. Thank you for being here and for continuing to participate in the great effort together. As we begin, I ask two things of you. First, please remember this line from Hsin Hsin Ming (Song Of Trusting Mind):
Don’t get tangled in the world, don’t lose yourself in emptiness.
Second, please wiggle in your seat. Yes, wiggle. Thank you for humoring me. I am reminded of Suzuki Roshi’s saying: “What we are doing here is so important that we ought not take ourselves too seriously.”
This morning, I want to continue the conversation that followed last week’s Dharma Talk. I spoke about The Verse Of The Kesa and one understanding of what it means to “wear the kesa” and what we commit to when reciting the verse. When we wear the kesa and recite The Robe Chant—another name for the verse—we commit to participating in the great effort to free all beings from suffering. “That is our commitment,” I said. “That is our vow,” I concluded.
There followed a thorny question about the relation between “serving” all beings and “liberating” all beings, which assumes that the two are distinct (though not separate). If we grant that assumption, then, from one point of view, we can consider the former discrete actions and the latter the end goal; we can ask how, say, practicing zazen (seated meditation) with a sangha, how sitting in a room together, facing a wall, and “doing nothing,” contributes to liberating all beings from suffering. This is a common and important question—and a particular instance of the thorny question we explored last week.
By the way, in August, we will have a chance to explore this question about the relation between zazen and liberation in some depth. Then, I will offer a series of talks on Dogen Zenji’s Bendowa (A Talk On The Pursuit Of The Truth).
We also discussed being role models, trusting others, not meddling, and “taking off the cape.” (Or, for some of us, not putting on the cape in the first place.) I am someone, for instance, who would benefit from removing his cape and wearing only robes—they are not the same. I tend to assume that too many things are my responsibility and that things will fall apart if I fail to act and fail to maintain some order. Yet, there is no need for me to fashion myself a superhero who will liberate all beings without help from others. Freeing all beings from suffering is something we do together.
Finally, the Bodhisattva Vows received a mention; that is where I want us to pick up the thread.
Traditionally, we chant The Four Great Bodhisattva Vows in the same way that we chant The Verse Of The Kesa:
Shujo muhen seigan do Bonno mujin seigan dan Homon muryo seigan gaku Butsudo mujo seigan jo Beings are numberless, I vow to save them. Delusions are inexhaustible, I vow to end them. Dharma gates are endless, I vow to enter them. Buddha’s way is unsurpassable, I vow to become it. Shujo muhen seigan do Bonno mujin seigan dan Homon muryo seigan gaku Butsudo mujo seigan jo
The above translation of the Vows is in our liturgy; we chanted them this way two years ago during the Winter Ango period.
There are other translations, too. Sometimes, I mention how Kobun Chino Roshi expressed the Vows:
Sentient beings are infinite, they will save themselves. Desires are infinite, they will reach an end by themselves. Dharmas are infinite, so there is learning, study. Buddha’s way is not above, so it is always accomplished.
I am not interested in shredding the hero’s cape to pieces right now, so I will say only that I appreciate the alternative perspective offered here. Specifically, that all things need not be in my hands. Instead, I can let them be. Furthermore, if there is engagement, then, as I said above, it is collaborative, perhaps even harmonious. It is not all on my shoulders; I do not need to have all the answers or figure everything out. Hallelujah.
I came across yet another expression of The Four Great Bodhisattva Vows. It is an older expression which connects the Vows to The Four Noble Truths, and it reads:
I vow to enable people to be released from the truth of suffering. I vow to enable people to understand the truth of the origin of suffering. I vow to enable people to peacefully settle down in the truth of the path leading to the cessation of suffering. I vow to enable people to enter the cessation of suffering, that is, nirvana.
Interesting! As I sat with it, I noticed several things and thought each of them attractive. A few things, too, raised an eyebrow, especially the surface suggestion that we enable others to be released from “the truth of” suffering instead of simply “suffering.”
I do not want to say anything more about these several expressions of The Four Great Bodhisattva Vows, though. This is not a Dharma Talk in which the finer points of their formulations are subjected to analysis and debate.
Instead, I offer them this morning because these three expressions of The Four Great Bodhisattva Vows can show us that we need not become tangled in the world. Once more, we read in Hsin Hsin Ming:
Don’t get tangled in the world, don’t lose yourself in emptiness.
They show us that there is “wiggle room.”
We tend to become tangled in the world when we believe that something is just one thing and are attached to that belief about that something being just one thing. For instance, we might believe that there is one way to express The Four Great Bodhisattva Vows. If we believe that the only “correct” or “true” expression of the Vows is that which displays an apparent contradiction, then we are likely to become involved in disputes when others offer different expressions. We “go on the offensive” to stamp out whatever it is that we judge as “incorrect” or “false.” We might even become fearful because we view that presentation of the teaching as threatening. “No more will others pollute the buddha-dharma with these poisons!” you have probably never said—but you could if positioned in this way.
Rarely is changing someone else’s mind an easy matter or abolishing an alternative accomplished without difficulty. Why? Because we get tangled up with others! We wrestle with people who believe just as much as we do that their judgment about the Vows is the only one that is “correct” or “true,” who are also on the offensive, and who are just as tough, even downright stubborn, as us—and we are not going down without a fight, you can count on that! And I can already hear the chest-thumping.
We might also adopt a “defensive posture.” Here, we attempt to maintain distance from potential wrestling matches. Sometimes, we call this “keeping the world out” or “not letting the world in”—and I assume that each of us is familiar with someone who has gone to great lengths to pursue such a goal. But it is challenging to keep the world out, not to let the world in; it is as though the world were all around you, and there is no escape from it. I wonder where those who posture in this way believe they are, for you cannot be anywhere else but in the world, and how can you keep that in which you are at a distance?
It is summertime, and it has been very warm, even hot. At some point, you may have been in a swimming pool, a lake, or an ocean; perhaps you are looking forward to being in one later today or during a vacation. Whichever is the case, I invite you to keep the water at a distance once in the pool, lake, or ocean. With all your effort and heart-mind, keep it at a distance. Then, you will see that adopting the defensive posture is as foolish and futile as the offensive posture.
By the way, these responses I am describing, which tend to follow from the belief that something is just one thing and attachment to that belief, show up everywhere. It is not just about The Four Great Bodhisattva Vows or other Buddhist teachings. It could concern sports teams, literary or musical genres, whether cats are better than dogs (or vice versa)—anything at all. Recognition of this opens an opportunity to pivot.
What other responses are there?
Hsin Hsin Ming opens with the following:
The Great Way isn’t difficult for those who are unattached to their preferences. Let go of longing and aversion and everything will be perfectly clear; when you cling to a hairsbreadth of distinction, heaven and earth are set apart. If you want to realize the truth, don’t be for or against.
What other responses are there? If you are tangled in the world, let go of what you hold on to. It is not others who cause the entanglement. It is you, by which I mean your attachment to the belief that something is just one thing (or what is called a “preference” above).
Don’t get tangled in the world, don’t lose yourself in emptiness.
So much for the first half of the line. What about the second half? If we are unattached to our preferences, our beliefs about this or that thing—if we hold with a loose hand all suppositions that some thing is just one thing—how do we not “lose ourselves in emptiness? How do we not enter into a space where “anything goes,” a sort of nihilistic dreamscape?
A response starts with remembering that emptiness is not nothingness—it is the other side of form—and what things are empty of is what we might call an “essence,” a “fixed nature,” or a “substantial self.” This is why nothing is just one thing but many things, through movement, change, and blending with others—what we sometimes call “dependent origination.” It is a testament to the interconnection of the whole universe. It is why there can be different expressions of The Four Great Bodhisattva Vows; this is why the Vows can “wiggle.”
But does anything prevent an expression of the Vows that permits heinous actions? That is the question, and you can feel its force if you assume that what prevents religious teachings from permitting (or worse, sanctioning) heinous actions is a dogmatic, and therefore fixed, view about what it is for something to be good, just, or kind. And the Dharma, the Buddha’s teachings, is without fixed views—as best as I understand it, anyway.
What we are coming up against, perhaps you can feel it, too, is the question: What is the Dharma? When the teachings on emptiness are front and center, it is understandable why Buddhists seem well-liked, why even those hostile to religion set Buddhism aside as the sole exception and may share that they have a soft spot for it. “It is not a religion,” they say. “It is a philosophy or a spiritual path.” The Buddha offered something quite different in his teachings. But what was it? What is it? And what are we, as students of the Buddha and practitioners of the Way, doing here? What are we doing here?!
In Hsin Hsin Ming, we read:
The struggle between good and evil is the primal disease of the mind: not grasping the deeper meaning, you just trouble your mind’s serenity. As vast as infinite space, it is perfect and lacks nothing, but because you select and reject, you can’t perceive its true nature. […] If you don’t live the Tao, you fall into assertion or denial: asserting that the world is real you are blind to its deeper reality; denying that the world is real you are blind to the selflessness of all things. Returning to the root, you find the meaning; chasing appearances, you lose their source. […] In all the world of things as they are, there is no self no non-self. If you want to describe its essence, the best you can say is “not two”; in this “not two” nothing is separate, and nothing in the world is excluded.
What is the “deeper meaning,” “deeper reality,” or “true nature” mentioned in these lines? At what are we gesturing when we describe “the world of things as they are” as “not two”?
I want to close this Dharma Talk with an extended excerpt from Dogen Zenji’s Shobogenzo Gyoji (Continuous Practice):
Guishan, who would later become Zen Master Dayuan, went to the steep and rocky Mount Gui immediately after receiving a confirmation of enlightenment from Baizhang. He mingled with birds and beasts, assembled a thatched hut, and tempered his practice. While living on acorns and chestnuts, he was not intimidated by storms or snow. Without temple or property, he actualized continuous practice for forty years. Later this place became a monastery renowned throughout China, where excellent practitioners like dragons and elephants came to follow in his footsteps.
If you vow to establish a temple, do not be swayed by human concerns, but maintain the strict continuous practice of buddha dharma. Where the practice is tempered, even without a [monks’] hall, is a place of enlightenment of old buddhas. The teaching given outdoors under a tree may be heard afar. Such a place can be a sacred domain for a long time. Indeed, the continuous practice of one person will merge with the place of the way of all buddhas.
Foolish people in this declining age are consumed with erecting magnificent temple buildings. Buddha ancestors have never wished for such temple buildings. You uselessly decorate the halls before you clarify your own eye. Rather than making offerings to buddhas, you are turning the house of all buddhas into a pitfall of fame and gain. Quietly ponder the continuous practice of the ancient Guishan. In order to do this, identify yourself with Guishan.
The sobbing rain of deep night pierces moss and pierces rock. On a snowy night of winter when even animals are rarely seen, how could the aromas from people’s houses reach you? This kind of search is impossible without the continuous practice of taking your own life lightly and regarding dharma as precious. Without cutting grass or moving earth and lumber, Guishan was fully engaged in tempering practice of the way.
What a deep feeling we have for him! With what great determination the hardship was endured by the authentic heir transmitting the true dharma on the steep mountain! It is said about Mount Gui that there is a pond and a brook where ice accumulates and fog becomes dense. It is not an inviting place for retreat, but it is where Guishan’s practice of the buddha way and the depth of the mountains were merged and renewed.
Continuous practice is not something we should take casually. If we do not repay the gift of the hardship of Guishan’s continuous practice, how can we, who aspire to study, identify with him as if he were sitting in front of us? Due to the power and the guiding merit of his continuous practice, the wheel of air [a layer upon which the world is settled] is not upset, the world is not broken, the palace of devas is calm, and human lands are maintained.
Although we are not direct descendants of Guishan, he is an ancestor of the teaching. Later, Yangshan went to study and attend him. Yangshan, who had studied with Baizhang, was like Shariputra, who gave one hundred answers to ten questions. Attending Guishan, he spent three years watching over a buffalo. This kind of continuous practice has been cut off and not seen in recent years. Such a statement by Yangshan as “spending three years watching over a buffalo” cannot otherwise be heard.
What was Guishan doing on the steep mountain, in harsh conditions, for forty years? Would you become Guishan’s student and spend three years watching over a buffalo? What are we, as a sangha, doing here? What are you doing here?
These are important questions, both about the Dharma and about you. The former is not something abstract, nor does it fly high in the clouds. It blends with the air that fills your lungs and the earth that supports your feet. It is found both high in rocky mountains and down low in bustling metropolises. You cannot get away from it; in the same way, you cannot be distant from water when in the ocean. Yet, it is not stiff or suffocating but wiggly; fluid and free, it is the path to the end of suffering. And when we walk that path, which we can only do together, we manifest the teaching:
Don’t get tangled in the world, don’t lose yourself in emptiness.
We find ourselves in that place described as “not two,” and we honor the gift of Guishan’s continuous practice.
Thank you very much.
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