Purity and the Sacred — Forest City Zen Group

Purity and the Sacred

Kuden Paul Boyle

Forest City Zen Group

London, Ontario, Canada

Today, I would like to talk about practising with the Bodhisattva Precepts from a conventional point of view. For those of you who are not familiar with the precepts, they constitute the ethical base of Zen practice. In Soto Zen, we follow the sixteen Bodhisattva Precepts. These are divided into three parts: The Three Refuges, The Three Pure Precepts, and the Ten Clear Mind Precepts. In Soto Zen when someone has a Zaike Tokudo or Shukke Tokudo ceremony (i.e. receiving the precepts as either a layperson or priest), these are the precepts which they receive and vow to uphold. However, for this talk, I don’t intend on talking about the particular precepts, per se. Rather, I want to talk about a way to integrate them into your everyday life.

In my experience, as well as observing the experience of others, I’ve found that how a Zen practitioner understands the precepts evolves over time and with practice experience. Initially, many beginning practitioners see the Buddhist precepts very much akin to the Christian’s Ten Commandments. They see the precepts as rules to which the practitioner must adhere. This is what I call the “Thou shalt” model. As practice experience increases, the Zen practitioner may begin to see the precepts as more like “suggested guidelines” with the intention of not diverting energy toward unwholesome or counterproductive states of mind. This is also a rules based approach, but is softened and more flexible.

The Ten Clear Mind Precepts are cast in negative language. For example, “A disciple of Buddha does not kill.” Some Zen teachers have encouraged practitioners to recast these precepts using positive language. For example, “A disciple of Buddha promotes life”. This isn’t wrong, but it is still a rules based approach setting out criteria of what we “shouldn’t” or “should” do. Personally, I do not find much gain or insight from this approach. I think the negative language of the precepts constitutes an important approach to practice. The negative language of the precepts does not direct how you “should” be. Rather, the precepts call for refraining from certain types of thoughts, words, and actions, and see what happens. Focus on inquiry and noticing changes in one’s relationships – relationships with yourself, with other humans, with other beings, and the world around you.

The role of the Bodhisattva precepts in Zen is a vast and deep subject. In Soto Zen, there is this idea that the precepts and zazen are the same. However, that’s another talk. Concretely, the precepts are standards of behaviour we vow to uphold. Precept practice is also useful as a gauge of ‘where we are at’. In this sense, I see the precepts as similar to the Buddha’s teachings on the skandhas or ayatanas. The point of these teachings is not to establish that the skandhas or ayatanas exist, per se, but rather they are frameworks which can help us see to which aspects of our experience we clinging. Similarly, the point of the precepts isn’t to “follow the letter of the law”, but can serve as useful framework when looking at our state of mind, especially when interacting with other people and beings.

The trap of the rules based approach is that it can setup some idea of purity in practice. At a conceptual level, the idea of purity provides rich opportunities for attachment (upadana). The Buddha identified four types of attachment.1 One of those is “attachment to rules and rituals”. I think it is pretty easy to see how this form of attachment can lead to ideas or conceptualizations of purity. The thinking goes along these lines, “if I practise in accordance with these rules, I’ll purify myself”, or “If I do these ceremonies or rituals, I will then cleanse myself.” With such thinking a person perceives themselves in a certain way, then they imagine some improved version of themselves, and concoct a way to get from here to there. This is a subject-object dualism, which is guarranteed to lead us into suffering. We will suffer because we will see ourselves as falling short of our made up standards. We will suffer because we perceive ourselves to be impure and setup purity as some goal to attain.

When I was a monk at Tassajara, I had practice discussion with the Tanto (head of practice). I asked her, “How can I practise the precepts more thoroughly?” Her answer was something like, “Don’t judge other people by your precept practice.” I bring this up because it is another way we can setup some idea of purity and then use it to judge other people. Again, that is setting up a dualism which is going to bring a lot of suffering, not only for you, but for the other people as well.

As the Soto Zen teaching poem, Merging of Difference and Unity reminds us, “don’t make up standards on your own”. I interpret this to mean that we don’t setup self-styled standards and ideals on our own. We don’t setup standards of purity and impurity. We don’t judge ourselves or others based on these made up standards. What do we do then in practising the precepts? When we screw up, we hold ourselves accountable in a gentle, compassionate non-judgmental, non-shaming way, and then we let it go. We try to align with our way of practice – our forms of practice, guidance from our teachers. Zen literature contains many stories of past practitioners. Using discernment, we can draw guidance and inspiration from these stories.

There is a story about Suzuki-roshi undermining someone’s attachment to purity. There are a couple versions of this story around, here is the one from cuke.com.2

Once when Tassajara, a mountain retreat center, was being built, a carpenter was working on it; he was not a Zen student but a yoga student; he kept a strict vegetarian diet, eating mostly fruit and nuts. He was driving Roshi back to San Francisco, along the Coast highway, when they both got hungry. Roshi wanted to stop right away but the carpenter kept on driving, looking for a place where he could get pure food. All they passed, however, were hot-dog and hamburger and taco joints. Roshi kept saying, How about stopping at this place? But the carpenter kept saying, No let's go on a little more. Looking for his fresh fruit meal. Finally Roshi told him to just stop at the next hamburger stand. The carpenter ordered a grilled cheese sandwich. Roshi ordered a cheeseburger. When the food came Roshi took one bite out of his cheeseburger. The carpenter took a bite out of his grilled cheese. Then Roshi made a face and said, I don't like this. He handed the cheeseburger to the carpenter, and took the grilled cheese for himself. You eat it, said Roshi.3

I don’t know what Suzkui-roshi’s intention was – maybe it was a “teaching moment”, maybe he was just annoyed with the yoga guy. However, for us, it part of the the lore of the Suzuki-roshi lineage and we ca use it as a teaching story. For me, what I get from this story is that it is fine to have standards, however, it is also important to read the situation and respond in an appropriate way, with wisdom and compassion. It’s not that having rules and standards which is a problem. It is when we fabricate an attachment to our rules and standards which is the problem. Holding onto some idea of purity in practice leads us astray. It blocks our ability to respond appropriately. Not only does it lead us to wrong action and suffering, it is a subtle way to strengthen our views of self. This also brings up a question with which we can practise: What does it mean to uphold a vow to follow the precepts while not getting entangled in notions of purity?

So, there is this balance between adhering to moral conduct and discipline on one hand, and not being attached to notions of moral conduct and discipline on the other. How can we approach and practise with the precepts in our everyday life without taking them up as “rules” or misusing them to establish notions of “purity” and “impurity”? In Dogen’s work called the Tenzo Kyokun, (“Instructions for the Cook”) he writes about roshin, or “nurturing mind” as an attitude to uphold in our practice of Zen. Nurturing mind is the mind of treating all things as being sacred. With nurturing mind, we make all things and activities living and vibrant. Dogen advises us to have affectionate caring concern for whatever we are handling. Nurturing mind is bringing our full presence to whatever we are doing in the moment. Dogen gives an example of nurturing mind when he writes in the Tenzo Kyokun,

Handle even a single leaf of a green in such a way that it manifests the body of the Buddha. This in turn allows the Buddha to manifest through the leaf. This is a power which you cannot grasp with your rational mind. It operates freely, according to the situation, in a most natural way. At the same time, this power functions in our lives to clarify and settle activities and is beneficial to all living beings.4

The way Dogen writes about roshin as benefiting all living beings is exactly the third Pure Precept5 and is the point of the Bodhisattva precepts. Dogen is not talking about some magical, cosmic power. He is talking about “the how” of doing an activity can change our consciousness. The way I interpret this passage is that transformation is done by doing an activity, not just thinking about it. Moreover, we don’t need to understand with our rational mind how this works. The important thing is to do it, to engage in the everyday practice of making all things sacred Buddhas.

In Soto Zen, everyday activity can be enlightened activity. So, this sacred doesn’t look like anything special. How do we create the sacred in our everyday lives? The sacred arises dependent on “how we are” – what our relationship is to the beings and things around us. This is where Dogen’s practice of the nurturing mind can be helpful to us.

We can practise the precepts by cultivating and applying nurturing mind to all of our activities. We can then bring an attitude of sacredness to all of our daily activities. We can use gathas (short intention setting verses) to support our practice of nurturing mind. I think it is also a good idea to stepwise develop our capacity to apply nurturing mind. For example, we can first apply nurturing mind to the “easy” situations and people in our lives, and then expand from there to more difficult situations and people we find more challenging to deal with.

Zen work practice is a great way to start practising with the sacred. Temple cleaning and work periods, kitchen practice during sesshin are all very amenable to bringing the sacred into everyday activities. When we drink tea, we hold the cup with two hands to give it our undivided attention. In doing so, the Buddha manifests through the teacup, and we uphold the integrity of the present moment. When interacting with other people and other living beings we see and treat them as sacred Buddhas. When we do that we uphold our own integrity and we more naturally follow the precepts. By practising nurturing mind throughout the day, we don’t need to self-consciously evaluate our acts of body, speech, and mind against a set of “rules”. Yes, it is good and necessary to know what the precepts are, but following them as rules isn’t the point. I suggest that the practice of nurturing mind and the precepts are mutually reinforcing if not exactly the same thing.

It should be said though that “sacred” is a concept we are using. It doesn’t really exist. As the Heart Sutra reminds us, all dharmas are neither pure nor impure and are empty of self-nature. However, we use the concept of “the sacred” to change how we are in the world. We use it to change our behaviour, our thinking, and eventually our perception. Ultimately, we use the practice of the sacred to live more in accordance with the Bodhisattva precepts.

You might object, and think that creating a sense of the sacred is just substituting one delusion for another. I would say, ‘no’, not if we are intentionally, and consciously using this concept. This is different than creating a system of belief or creating a metaphysic of the sacred. As we deepen our practice of Buddhism and Zen, we might find that we become more tolerant of knowing (experientially) that concepts and other expedient means are empty of inherent existence6, and, we are nevertheless, “ok” with using these empty concepts in our practice. It might be that we set an intention to take up this practice of the sacred or nurturing mind. We use it for a few years, and then we might eventually discard it if the practice becomes stale for us. This isn’t a bad thing. It could be mean that we have integrated into our way of being what the practice of the sacred needed to show us about living the Bodhisattva Precepts.

The image that comes to mind is that of a Bodhisattva who is walking on a bridge to cross a chasm. The Bodhisattva knows that the bridge really isn’t there, but uses it to get across the chasm anyway. The bridge is created as the Bodhisattva walks on it and it disappears behind them. Our intention to walk the path is what creates the path. The path exists, but it doesn’t exist in the way most people assume a path exists. This is the “path of no path”. This is how we might engage the precepts in our everyday life without relying on some notion of rules and dichotomies of “pure” and “impure”. Thank-you.

1. The four type of attachment are: a) attachment to sensual pleasures, b) attachment to rules and rituals, c) attachment to views, and d) attachment to views of self.

2. Another version of this story is related in Crooked Cucumber: The Life and Zen Teachings of Shunryu Suzuki by David Chadwick, page 299.

3. http://www.cuke.com/Cucumber%20Project/suzuki%20stories/fields-naj.html

4. Dogen and Uchiyama, From the Zen Kitchen to Enlightenment: Refining Your Life, pp. 8-9.

5. “I vow to live for the benefit of all beings”

6. I am referring to anutpattikadharmakshanti, Sanskrit term for the “aquiescence” or “receptivity” “to the nonproduction of dharmas”’ (The Princeton Dictionary of Buddhism). Blofield translated this term (in the Zen Teaching of Instaneous Awakening as “the patient endurance of the uncreate”. Basically, these definitions indicate a tolerance or conviction that all dharmas are unproduced and empty of self-nature.