51. Sour Miso
The cook monk Dairyo, at Bankei's monastery, decided that he
would take good care of his old teacher's health and give him
only fresh miso, a paste of soy beans mixed with wheat and yeast
that often ferments. Bankei, noticing that he was being served
better miso than his pupils, asked: "Who is the cook today?"
Dairyo was sent before him. Bankei learned that according to
his age abd position he should eat only fresh miso. So he said
to the cook: "Then you think I shouldn't eat at all." With this
he entered his room and locked the door.
Dairyo, sitting outside the door, asked his teacher's pardon.
Bankei would not answer. For seven days Dairyo sat outside and
Bankei within.
Finally in desperation an adherent called loudly to Bankei:
"You may be all right, old teacher, but this young disciple
here has to eat. He cannot go without food forever!"
At that Bankei opened the door. He was smiling. He told Dairyo:
"I insist on eating the same food as the least of my followers.
When you become the teacher I do not want you to forget this."
back to top
52. Your Light May Go
Out
A student of Tendai, a philosophical school of Buddhism, came
to the Zen abode of Gasan as a pupil. When he was departing
a few years later, Gasan warned him: "Studying the truth speculatively
is useful as a way of collecting preaching material. But remember
that unless you meditate constantly your light of truth may
go out."
back to top
53. The Giver
Should Be Thankful
While Seisetsu was the master of Engaku in Kamakura he required
larger quarters, since those in which he was teaching were overcrowded.
Umezu Seibei, a merchant of Edo, decided to donate five hundred
pieces of gold called ryo toward the construction of a more
commodious school. This money he brought to the teacher.
Seisetsu said: "All right. I will take it."
Umezu gave Seisetsu the sack of gold, but he was dissatisfied
with the attitude of the teacher. One might live a whole year
on three ryo, and the merchant had not even been thanked for
five hundred.
"In that sack are five hundred ryo," hinted Umezu.
"You told me that before," replied Seisetsu.
"Even if I am a wealthy merchant, five hundred ryo is a lot
of money," said Umezu.
"Do you want me to thank you for it?" asked Seisetsu.
"You ought to," replied Uzemu.
Why should I?" inquired Seisetsu. "The giver should be thankful."
back to top
54. The Last Will & Testament
Ikkyu, a famous Zen teacher of the Ashikaga era, was the son
of the emperor. When he was very young, his mother left the
palace and went to study Zen in a temple. In this way Prince
Ikkyu also became a student. When his mother passed on, she
left with him a letter. It read:
To Ikkyu:
I have finished my work in this life and am now returning into
Eternity. I wish you to become a good student and to realize
your Buddha-nature. You will know if I am in hell and whether
I am always with you or not.
If you become a man who realizes that the Buddha and his follower
Bodhidharma are your own servants, you may leave off studying
and work for humanity. The Buddha preached for forty-nine years
and in all that time found it not necessary to speak one word.
You ought to know why. But if you don't and yet wish to, avoid
thinking fruitlessly.
Your Mother,
Not born, not dead.
September first.
P.S. The teaching of Buddha was mainly for the purpose of enlightening
others. If you are dependent on any of its methods, you are
naught but an ignorant insect. There are 80,000 books on Buddhism
and if you should read all of them and still not see your own
nature, you will not understand even this letter. This is my
will and testament.
back to top
55. The Tea-Master & the Assassin
Taiko, a warrior who lived in Japan before the Tokugawa era,
studied Cha-no-yu, tea etiquette, with Sen no Rikyu, a teacher
of that aesthetical expression of calmness and contentment.
Taiko's attendant warrior Kato interpreted his superior's enthusiasm
for tea etiquette as negligence of state affairs, so he decided
to kill Sen no Rikyu. He pretended to make a social call upon
the tea-master and was invited to drink tea.
The master, who was well skilled in his art, saw at a glance
the warrior's intention, so he invited Kato to leave his sword
outside before entering the room for the ceremony, explaining
the Cha-no-yu represents peacefulness itself.
Kato would not listen to this. "I am a warrior," he said. "I
always have my sword with me. Cha-no-yu or no Cha-no-yu, I have
my sword."
"Very well. Bring your sword in and have some tea," consented
Sen no Rikyu.
The kettle was boiling on the charcoal fire. Suddenly Sen no
Rikyu tipped it over. Hissing steam arose, filling the room
with smoke and ashes. The startled warrior ran outside.
The tea-master apologized. "It was my mistake. Come back in
and have some tea. I have your sword here covered with ashes
and will clean it and give it to you."
In this predicament the warrior realized he could not very well
kill the tea-master, so he gave up the idea.
back to top
56. The True
Path
Just before Ninakawa passed away the Zen master Ikkyu visited
him. "Shall I lead you on?" Ikkyu asked.
Ninakawa replied: "I came here alone and I go alone. What help
could you be to me?"
Ikkyu answered: "If you think you really come and go, that is
your delusion. Let me show you the path on which there is no
coming and no going."
With his words, Ikkyu had revealed the path so clearly that
Ninakawa smilled and passed away.
back to top
57. The Gates of Paradise
A soldier named Nobushige came to Hakuin, and asked: "Is there
really a paradise and a hell?"
"Who are you?" inquired Hakuin.
"I am a samurai," the warrior replied.
"You, a soldier!" exclaimed Hakuin. "What kind of ruler would
have you as his guard? Your face looks like that of a beggar."
Nobushige became so angry that he began to draw his sword, but
Hakuin continued: "So you have a sword! Your weapon is probably
much too dull to cut off my head."
As Nobushige drew his sword Hakuin remarked: "Here open the
gates of hell!"
At these words the samurai, perceiving the master's discipline,
sheathed his sword and bowed.
"Here open the gates of paradise," said Hakuin.
back to top
58. Arresting the Stone Buddha
A merchant bearing fifty rolls of cotton goods on his shoulders
stopped to rest from the heat of the day beneath a shelter where
a large stone Buddha was standing. There he fell asleep, and
when he awoke his goods had disappeared. He immediately reported
the matter to the police.
A judge named O-oka opened court to investigate. "That stone
Buddha must have stolen the goods," concluded the judge. "He
is supposed to care for the welfare of the people, but he has
failed to perform his holy duty. Arrest him."
The police arrested the stone Buddha and carried it into the
court. A noisy croud followed the statue, curious to learn what
kind of a sentence the judge was about to impose.
When O-oka appeared on the bench he rebuked the boisterous audience.
"What right have you people to appear before the court laughing
and joking in this manner? You are in contempt of court and
subject to a fine and imprisonment."
The people hastened to apologize. "I shall have to impose a
fine on you," said the judge, "but I will remit it provided
each one of you brings one roll of cotton goods to the court
within three days. Anyone failing to do this will be arrested."
One of the rolls of cloth which the people brought was quickly
recognized by the merchant as his own, and thus the thief was
easily discovered. The merchant recovered his goods, and the
cotton rolls were returned to the people.
back to top
59. Soldiers of Humanity
Once a division of the Japanese army was engaged in a sham battle,
and some of the officers found it necessary to make their headquarters
in Gasan's temple.
Gasan told his cook: "Let the officers have only the same simple
fare we eat."
This made the army men angry, as they were used to very deferential
treatment. One came to Gasan and said: "Who do you think we
are? We are soldiers, sacrificing our lives for our country.
Why don't you treat us accordingly?"
Gasan answered sternly: "Who do you think we are? We are soldiers
of humanity, aiming to save all sentient beings."
back to top
60. The Tunnel
Zenkai, the son of a samurai, journeyed to Edo and there became
the retainer of a high official. He fell in love with the official's
wife and was discovered. In self-defense, he slew the official.
Then he ran away with the wife.
Both of them later became thieves. But the woman was so greedy
that Zenkai grew disgusted. Finally, leaving her, he journeyed
far away to the province of Buzen, where he became a wandering
mendicant.
To atone for his past, Zenkai resolved to accomplish some good
deed in his lifetime. Knowing of a dangerous road over a cliff
that had caused the death and injury of many persons, he resolved
to cut a tunnel through the mountain there.
Begging food in the daytime, Zenkai worked at night digging
his tunnel. When thirty years had gone by, the tunnel was 2,280
feet long, 20 feet high, and 30 feet wide.
Two years before the work was completed, the son of the official
he had slain, who was a skillful swordsman, found Zenkai out
and came to kill him in revenge.
"I will give you my life willingly," said Zenkai. "Only let
me finish this work. On the day it is completed, then you may
kill me."
So the son awaited the day. Several months passed and Zendai
kept on digging. The son grew tired of doing nothing and began
to help with the digging. After he had helped for more than
a year, he came to admire Zenkai's strong will and character.
At last the tunnel was completed and the people could use it
and travel in safety.
"Now cut off my head," said Zenkai. "My work is done."
"How can I cut off my own teacher's head?" asked the younger
man with tears in his eyes.