I need to have a break from reading this brief, so here is a little something that’s been kicking around my head for a bit.
At a dharma talk recently the instructor read a story from Reb Anderson’s book “Being Upright: Zen Meditation and the Bodhisattva Precepts“. The story relates to an experience that Anderson had while studying under Shunryu Suzuki, and I will reproduce it here (I hope that he doesn’t mind):
Zen is, in a nutshell, being on time. Not being early and not being late is Zen. [...]
Once I asked Suzuki Roshi, “What is right effort?” He said, “To get up with no hesitation when your alarm clock rings.” On a later occasion, during one of our week-long meditation retreats, the early wake-up bell was rung at 3:30 A.M. instead of the usual time of 4:30 A.M.
People came out of their rooms and informed the bell ringer that he was an hour early, so he stopped ringing the bell and proceeded to walk up and down the halls of the temple telling people that they could go back to bed. My room was next to my teacher’s. As I came out of my door, I saw him already dressed in his robes, walking to the meditation hall. Following the bell ringer’s instruction, I went back to bed and rose again at the second ringing of the bell.
When we were all sitting in the meditation hall, Suzuki Roshi said, “The bell was rung this morning. When I heard it, I came down to sit. But when I arrived, none of you were here. I sat for a while but no one came.” Then he yelled, “What do you think we are doing here?!” Then this old Zen master got down from his seat, came over to my seat, the one closest to his, and hit me with his teacher’s staff in the traditional way on the shoulder with all his strength. He grunted as he hit me. Then he proceeded to hit each student, more than one hundred of us. By the time he finished, he seemed tired. He was hitting lightly and no longer grunting as he hit. I think that we all felt how deep his love was. He gave his all to show us that, for a student of Zen, there is no higher teaching than the precept: At the sound of the bell, put on your robe and go to the meditation hall, with no hesitation.
When the story finished, everybody laughed. But I didn’t think it was funny. When I tried to explain why to the instructor after the talk had finished, she thought I was concerned that the students were being hit. After I explained, she said I should discuss it at our next meeting, but unfortunately some foot surgery and a take-home exam kept me away from the zendo that weekend[] .
My objection is a bit more complicated than “some students got hit”. Obviously I am not qualified to comment on the Buddhist-philosophical underpinnings of Suzuki’s practice, but speaking just as a human, I present the following observations.
This is really a story in two parts. The second part is where Suzuki, mind made up to discipline his students with his stick (the kyôsaku?) continued to lay into them even after his arms and body tired. If you are willing to accept that such discipline was desirable, his dedication and desire to treat all his students equally is laudable. But is such discipline desirable, appropriate or acceptable?
As to this first part, it seems some information is missing. I will assume at least some of the monks were intercepted by the bell ringer robed and leaving their rooms – this might not be true if the bell ringer was entering peoples rooms, or if people were leaving their rooms under dressed – and if this is not true, then maybe the story stands on its own merits. But for those who heard the bell, robed and were then told to return to their rooms, it seems wrong to punish them for trusting the word of the bell ringer. Anderson, opening the chapter, warns us that being early is not Zen either. If we must reject the authority of the bell ringer, who tells us we are too early (and that our practice thereby misses the mark), why should we accept the authority of the Roshi who yells at us and beats us with the stick (or anyone else for that matter)? Maybe this is the point?
- While Zen has been described as a philosophy of radical doubt (by e.g. Brad Warner), I don’t think it was ever supposed to be seen as kindling a philosophy of radical mistrust.
- Is Zen getting up when the alarm clock rings, or when it is the right time to get up? Hyakujo[] said that his great miracle was that when he was hungry he ate and when he was tired he slept – not that he ate when the lunch bell rang, or slept when the clock chimed ten. The interpretation put forward in this story, to me, seems to privilege the symbol of the alarm clock.
If you read this and think “This post is laughably ridiculous because of ______”, or “This guy has totally misunderstood Reb Anderson’s story because of ______” please post so in the comments. I would like to hear some more opinions on this.
Nicholas 2:01 pm on March 9, 2010 Permalink
Plz send source so I can apply a very important fix. :)
Bryn 10:32 pm on March 9, 2010 Permalink
@Nicholas: I AM NOT ADDING SPECTRA LINES FOR UNOBTAINIUM