Zen was taught personally. Enlightenment was communicated directly from teacher to student, much like it was first taught by Buddha to Mahakasyapa. This form of learning continues today: Zen wisdom is still communicated through contact between teacher and student and is called direct transmission.
The early Chinese patriarchs were well versed in the Chinese classics, and they integrated Zen with the accepted philosophies of China, particularly Taoism. Each man contributed in his own way. The Third Patriarch, Sengts’an, (d. 606) composed the first Zen poem, “Hsin Hsin Ming, Inscribed on the Believing Mind,” which clearly shows the integration between Buddhism and Taoism to form the unique synthesis that is Zen. Taoism sees all phenomena in the world as yin and yang opposites. Buddhism views all as emptiness. Zen blends the two:
When activity is stopped and passivity obtains
This passivity again is a state of activity.
. . . The activity of the Great Way is vast.
It is neither easy nor difficult. (Blyth 1969, 100-101)
The Fourth Patriarch, Tao-hsin (580-651), organized the first Zen community; here, monks lived separated from their families and society. Hung-jen (601-674), the Fifth Patriarch, inspired many great Zen masters who founded sects of Zen that endured for several generations. His most famous pupil, Hui-neng, helped launch Zen toward its vital and enduring future.
THE SIXTH PATRIARCH
Bodhidharma is considered the founder of Zen, but Hui-neng (638-713), the Sixth Patriarch, brought about a new emphasis. Unlike all the previous patriarchs, who were highly educated, Hui-neng was said to be a poor, illiterate firewood cutter. One day, just after having sold some of his firewood in the marketplace, he came upon a man reciting one of the most famous Mahayana sutras, the Diamond Sutra (Jewel of Transcendental Wisdom). This Sutra, when carefully studied, can bring about a reorientation of thinking in the Buddhist way. Hui-neng listened to the words and felt a profound change take place. Unexpectedly, and in a flash of sudden insight, he was enlightened. The idea that anyone, even a simple peddler, could become suddenly enlightened became one of the seminal ideas in Hui-neng’s Zen.
Hui-neng journeyed to the temple of Hung-jen, the Fifth Patriarch, to deepen his understanding. Monasteries usually excluded uneducated people, but Hui-neng was accepted as a lay monk and given the job of pounding rice and splitting firewood. Hung-jen recognized that his new student had natural talent.
Eventually, the Fifth Patriarch was ready to retire and appoint a successor. Hung-jen asked his students to compose a poem that epitomized their insight. Shen-hsiu, the senior student, was naturally expected to be given the official robe and bowl that signifies direct transmission. Shen-hsiu’s poem read:
Our body is the bodhi tree
And our mind a mirror bright
Carefully we wipe them hour by hour
And let no dust alight. (Price & Mou-lam 1990, 10)
On hearing this poem, Hui-neng felt a deeper insight and composed his own poem:
There is no bodhi tree
Nor stand of a mirror bright
Since all is void,
Where can the dust alight? (Price & Mou-lam 1990, 72)
The Master listened to both poems and recognized Hui-neng’s wisdom. According to the account of what happened, as written in the Platform Sutra, by Hui-neng’s disciple, Hung-jen believed that his disciples would not accept an illiterate lay monk as his successor, so he secretly sent Hui-neng off to the south to start his own branch of Zen. Meanwhile, he also recognized Shen-hsiu who had come to merit the promotion through his years of devoted service and study. Shen-hsiu, traveled north and founded the Northern School. He taught that calm, quiet meditation gradually lead practitioners to an enlightened life. Following a bitter conflict with the Southern school led by Hui-neng’s disciple Shen-hui (670-762). The direct line of Northern Zen did not last beyond two more generations of students. Echoes of the quiet Zen of Shen-hsiu resonate to this day in the practice of Soto Zen, where daily quiet meditation is primary.
By contrast, Hui-neng’s Southern School was active, guiding students to sudden awakenings. Hui-neng accepted students of any class or background because he firmly believed, based on his own experience, that “the essence of mind is already pure and free” (Price and Mou-lam 1990, 73). Neither long study nor unusual talent was necessary to achieve enlightenment. Anyone, from a lowly peasant to a royal king, could have enlightenment, forever transforming life, once they realized this simple truth. Hui-neng’s Southern School became the dominant force. Most modern schools of Zen trace their roots back to Hui-neng.
T’ANG DYNASTY (618-907): THE FLOWERING OF ZEN
Following Hui-neng, Zen spread throughout the country, with many great masters who expressed themselves freely. The T’ang period was one of the most creative and innovative for Zen in China. During this period, Zen masters found ways to teach without using rational explanations, often without words. Instead, the monks took action by swinging a stick or shouting. Students in this period could expect the unexpected from their teachers. They were called upon to stretch the limits of understanding by answering bizarre questions and solving strange puzzles. In the spaces between, when confusion and surprise left a gap, the light of enlightenment could suddenly break through.
Ma-tsu (709-788) was one of the many great masters of this period. His work, along with that of other innovative teachers, shaped the development of Zen in China and later became a backdrop for Korean and Japanese Zen.
Ma-tsu was a dynamic and forceful individual who was the first Zen master known to use shouting to bring his students to enlightenment. One of his teachers was a student of Hui-neng, putting Ma-tsu in direct line with the sudden enlightenment tradition.
One famous exchange between Ma-tsu and his teacher illustrates a primary understanding in the Southern School of Zen. As a young student, Ma-tsu was meditating ardently in pursuit of a pure mind. The Master asked him, “Why are you sitting so long in meditation?”
Ma-tsu replied, “I am hoping to become a buddha.”
With this, his teacher picked up a tile and began rubbing it with a stone. Ma-tsu looked at him, puzzled. “What are you doing, Master?”
The Master answered, ‘I am polishing this tile until it becomes a mirror.”
This made no sense to Ma-tsu, so he asked, ‘How can you make a mirror from a tile?”
The teacher answered, “Exactly! How can you make a buddha by trying to purify your mind?”
This communicated the essence of Hui-neng’s Zen:Your original nature is already pure, just as it is. Why try to cleanse it? Throughout his life, Ma-tsu continued to teach that the mind is the buddha.
One of Ma-tsu’s students, Pai-chang (720-814), created rules for everyday life in the Zen monastery. All monks must take vows to live an absolutely ethical life. But vows were not enough. They must also do some form of work along with daily meditation. He believed that if your mind is the buddha, then you should be able to bring this understanding into all aspects of life, including work. After all, Hui-neng was a firewood cutter.
One day, Pai-chang’s students, thinking they would give their Master a rest from working in the field, hid his gardening tools. Pai-chang refused to eat. Finally the monks had no choice but to return his tools. Pai-chang told them, “A day without work is a day without food.”
This became the motto for all the Zen monasteries that followed. The work the monks did raising crops, building monasteries, and taking care of their own needs as an ethically strong community allowed Zen to evolve independently, through all kinds of political climates. Thanks to the monastic tradition of self-sufficiency that Pai-chang initiated, Zen was not harmed by the great obliteration of Buddhism that took place in China from 841 to 845.
Huang-po (d. 850), who is also known by his Japanese name, Obaku, was a student of Pai-chang. He helped his disciples