Tag: Chinese Buddhism

The Many Names of The Nianfo

The nianfo (念佛) is widely recited across many cultures and languages by people who follow the Pure Land Buddhist tradition. In Japanese it is called the nembutsu (念仏), and that is the name I most often use on this blog. In Korean it is the yeombul (염불), and in Vietnamese it is the niệm phật. Just as the name differs by language, the phrase itself has changed pronunciation as it is adopted in other cultures and languages, just like the sutras did.

Let’s look at examples.

The original form of the nianfo (as far as I can tell) comes from Sanskrit language in India. In Sanskrit, “nianfo” was buddhānusmṛti (buddhānussati in Pāli language). The venerable site Visible Mantra states that it was recited like so:1

namo’mitābhāyabuddhāya

In the Siddham script, still used in some esoteric practices, this is written as:

𑖡𑖦𑖺𑖦𑖰𑖝𑖯𑖥𑖯𑖧𑖤𑖲𑖟𑖿𑖠𑖯𑖧

From here, Buddhism was gradually imported into China from India (a fascinating story in and of itself), and because Chinese language and Sanskrit are so different, this was no easy task. Nevertheless, the buddhānusmṛti was translated as nianfo (念佛) and written as:

南無阿彌陀佛

This was how the Chinese at the time approximated the sound of the Sanskrit phrase. In modern, Simplified Chinese characters this looks like:

南无阿弥陀佛

But how does one read these characteres? That’s a fun question to answer.

You see, Chinese has many dialects because of geography, regional differences, and migration of people. Thus, even though Chinese characters are written the same (with only modest regional differences), the way they are read and pronounced varies. Thanks to Wiktionary, I found a helpful list to illustrate:

Dialect or writing systemPronunciation
Mandarin, Pinyin systemNāmó Ēmítuófó or
Námó Ēmítuófó
Mandarin, Zhuyin (Bopomofo) systemㄋㄚ ㄇㄛˊ ㄜ ㄇㄧˊ ㄊㄨㄛˊ ㄈㄛˊ, or
ㄋㄚˊ ㄇㄛˊ ㄜ ㄇㄧˊ ㄊㄨㄛˊ ㄈㄛˊ
Cantonese, Jyutping systemnaam4 mo4 o1 mei4 to4 fat6
naam4 mo4 o1 nei4-1 to4 fat6
naa1 mo4 o1 mei4 to4 fat6, or
naa1 mo4 o1 nei4-1 to4 fat6
Hakka, Sixian or Phak-fa-su systemNà-mò Ô-mì-thò-fu̍t
Nà-mò Ô-nî-thò-fu̍t
Nà-mò Â-mì-thò-fu̍t
Eastern Min, BUC system
Nàng-mò̤-ŏ̤-mì-tò̤-hŭk
Puxian Min, Pouseng Ping’ing systemna2 mo2 or1 bi2 tor2 hoh7, or
na2 mo2 or1 bi2 tor2 huoh7
Southern Min (a.k.a. Hokkien), Peh-oe-ji systemLâm-bû O-bí-tô-hu̍t
Lâm-bû-oo-mì-tôo-hu̍t

Of these dialects, I am only familiar with Mandarin and (to a much lesser extent) Hokkien, so I can only trust the others based on Wikipedia.

Anyhow, China was a powerful, dynamic culture at the time, and it had a profound influence on its smaller neighbors such as the Korean peninsula, Japan, and northern Vietnam (a.k.a. Dai Viet). Just as the neighbors of the Romans (including the Byzantines) absorbed Roman culture, the neighbors of China did the same even though the languages were very different.

Thus, the nembutsu in these languages became:

LanguageHow to Recite
JapaneseKanji: 南無阿弥陀仏
Romaji: Namu Amida Butsu
KoreanHanja: 南無阿彌陀佛
Hangul: 나무아미타불
Romanization: Namu Amita Bul
VietnameseChữ Hán: 南無阿彌陀佛
Quốc ngữ: Nam mô A-di-đà Phật2

What about Tibetan Buddhism? I am really unfamiliar with that tradition, so I might be wrong here, but my understanding is that Tibetan veneration of Amida Buddha stems from a different tradition, so instead of the nianfo, they recite appropriate mantras instead. Beyond that, I don’t know.

Anyhow, this is a brief look at how a simple Sanskrit phrase has evolved into so many traditions and ways to express veneration to the Buddha of Infinite Light. Thanks for reading!

𑖡𑖦𑖺𑖦𑖰𑖝𑖯𑖥𑖯𑖧𑖤𑖲𑖟𑖿𑖠𑖯𑖧
南無阿彌陀佛
Namu Amida Butsu

P.S. Another post despite my intended rest. The time off really has helped, so it’s been well worth it, but now I am eager to write again. 😌

1 As I’ve written before, writing Sanskrit in the more modern Devanagari script is kind of pointless since Sanskrit was never written in that until late in history, long after Buddhism in India was gone. Sanskrit does not have a native script either, so the Roman Alphabet is as god as any.

2 Brushing off my college Vietnamese, this is pronounced as “Nam-moe Ah-zee-dah-fut”.

Divine Intervention, Or Lack Thereof

Scotty: Thank heaven!

Spock: Mr Scott, there was no deity involved. It was my cross-circuiting to B that recovered them.

McCoy: Then thank pitchforks and pointed ears.

Star Trek, “Obsession” (s2:ep13), stardate 3620.7

In the host of world religions, Buddhism occupies a strange place. In one sense, it is a world religion because it is followed by many different peoples, cultures, and languages throughout its 2,500 year history.

But unlike other world religions there is no central deity, no creator.

Hold on, you might be thinking, what about the Buddha?

The Buddha is the central figure of Buddhism. He is the teacher, but in the Buddhist tradition he was once a person, just like you and me, who through countless lifetimes as a bodhisattva fully accomplished the path and awakened to the Dharma: the principles of existence. He taught the Dharma to his disciples, and they became the first generation of the Sangha, the community.

Thus, these comprise the Three Treasures of Buddhism.

But why do people pray to the Buddha?

Because the Buddha and all other such figures in Buddhism are not passive. The Buddha taught the Dharma out of compassion and goodwill for all beings, and the countless Bodhisattvas such as Kannon guide any sentient beings who take up the Buddhist path. Amida Buddha provides a refuge for all beings who wish to be reborn there.

Kannon (観音) Bodhisattva in her more motherly form.

The underlying theme isn’t Enlightenment for Enlightenment’s sake. It is to help beings who suffer so that eventually they too may reach Buddhahood (a.k.a. Enlightenment).

One does not have to pray to the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas. The most important thing is to put the Buddhist teachings into practice as one can. But in times of unease, uncertainty or crisis it’s perfectly fine to pray to a Buddha or Bodhisattva that you revere. I do it from time to time myself when I am worried about my kids, on plane flights, before surgery, etc.

But also, in the end, I am responsible for my choices, my words, and my thoughts.

When you plant melon seeds you get melons, and when you plant beans you get beans. [Effect follows causes] like a shadow follows a physical shape, like an echo responds to a sound. Nothing is sown in vain. This is called “believing in the result”.

Ou-yi’s Mind Seal of the Buddhas, translation by J. C. Clearly

I alone bear the fruits of my choices, words and thoughts.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

Namu Amida Butsu

Namu Kanzeon Bosatsu

The Dynamic Duo of Zen and Pure Land

A few months ago, I made this post about how the Obaku Zen sect interprets Amida Buddha and the Pure Land. To my surprise, I keep reflecting on this phrase from time to time, almost like a Zen koan:

This mind is the Pure Land,
this body is Amida Buddha

This idea of merging Zen and Pure Land ideas is somewhat rare in Japanese Buddhism, but it’s surprisingly common in Chinese-Buddhist thought. Originally, I thought it was limited to later Ming-Dynasty Buddhism (which Obaku descends from), but similar strands of thought exist much further back.

A famous Chinese monk named Yongming Yanshou (永明延壽. 904 – 976) once wrote a poem titled the “Four Alternatives” (sì liào jiǎn 四料揀):1

Lacking both Chan and the Pure Land, it will be the iron beds and bronze pillars [of hell] for ten thousand kalpas [eons] and a thousand lives with no one to turn to.

Having Chan but lacking the Pure Land, nine out of ten will stray from the path; when the realm of the aggregates appears before them, they will instantly follow it.

Lacking Chan but having the Pure Land, ten thousand out of ten thousand who practice it will go [to rebirth]. Having seen Amitābha, why worry that one might not attain enlightenment?

Having both Chan and Pure Land, one is like a tiger with horns [i.e., doubly capable]. Such a person will be a teacher in the present life, and a buddha or patriarch in future lives.

translation by Charles B. Jones, “Chinese Pure Land Buddhism, Understanding a Tradition of Practice”, pg 210

Yongming is advocating a supportive model where both Zen practice and Pure Land practice work in concert. The Pure Land path is the “safer” path to follow, due to the vows of Amida Buddha, but if supported by Zen practice here and now, one is really making progress on the Buddhist path.

Further, a later writer named Yunqi Zhuhong2 (雲棲袾宏, 1535 – 1615) explained that these things were not mutually exclusive (Chinese added by me):3

To contemplate the Buddha (nianfo 念佛) is to contemplate the mind (nian-xin 念心). Birth there (in the Pure Land) does not entail birth away from here. Mind, Buddha, and sentient beings are all of one substance; the middle stream (non-duality) does not abide on the two banks (this world and the Pure Land).

Similarly, Ouyi Zhixu (蕅益智旭, 1599 – 1655) in his excellent work “Mind Seal of Buddhas” makes a similar argument: Zen and Pure Land practice are the same thing, just operating at different levels. You’re not forced to chose one or the other in your practice.

But such ideas aren’t limited to medieval Chinese-Buddhist monks. You can find such sentiments in Pure Land sutras themselves! In the Immeasurable Life Sutra is this passage (emphasis added):

“In this world, you should extensively plant roots of virtue, be benevolent, give generously, abstain from breaking the precepts, be patient and diligent, teach people with sincerity and wisdom, do virtuous deeds, and practice good. If you strictly observe the precepts of abstinence with upright thought and mindfulness even for a day and a night, the merit acquired will surpass that of practicing good in the land of Amitāyus [a.k.a. the Pure Land] for a hundred years. The reason is that in that buddha land of effortless spontaneity all the inhabitants do good without committing even a hair’s breadth of evil. If in this world you do good for ten days and nights, the merit acquired will surpass that of practicing good in the buddha lands of other directions for a thousand years.

Translation by Rev. Hisao Inagaki

In this passage, the Buddha is clearly advocating both bending your efforts toward rebirth in the Pure Land, but also making the most of the time you have here to undergo traditional Buddhist practices too because even a modest effort here is a great benefit in the future (both for yourself and others).

As I often tell my kids: “go nuts”!4

What I mean is: recite the nembutsu, meditate, uphold the precepts, or some combination thereof. You have nowhere to go but up.

But what if you can’t decide or don’t have the time?

In my opinion, start with the nembutsu. Begin just as you are, and recite it just 10 times daily. From there, add the Five Precepts when you are ready, and once you have that foundation, and are ready to branch out, then look into Zen practices. This make take months or even years. Take your time, go slow, and don’t be afraid to explore.

When I talk about the flexibility of Tendai Buddhism in Japan as well, this is what I am alluding to: start with something simple and small at first (such as a devotional practice), and gradually building upon it as you gain confidence and see the positive transformation in your life. Buddhism is kind of a SLOW, gradual religion, but like a glacier, once it starts moving, it has a wonderful momentum all its own even if you can’t see it.

Namu Shakumuni Butsu
Namu Amida Butsu

P.S. Featured blog image is another famous “Dynamic Duo”: Batman and Robin from the 1960’s series.

P.P.S. Posting kind of off-schedule just because it is fun. 😊

1 I found this on Wikipedia actually and I thought to myself “wow, this person quoted exactly the same way that I would do!”, then I realized that I had put this on Wikipedia a few years ago. 🤦🏼‍♂️

2 Pronounced like “yoon-chee joo-hong”.

3 Again, I managed to pull a quote from Wikipedia that I had unwittingly added years ago and then promptly forgot.

4 My kids ask me if they can watch TV, play Switch or whatever, and my frequent answer is “go nuts” [go crazy, have fun].

Buddhism in a Nutshell

If you’re new to Buddhism, or curious about what it is, it’s tempting to compare with other world religions. However, it differs in some key ways.

One of my favorite books in my collection is an old translation of The Way to Buddhahood by the late Ven. Yin-Shun (“een-shoon”), a prominent Chinese monk who was an influential figure in Taiwan. His book is dense,1 and geared for Chinese audiences, but the translation is good, and Yin-Shun’s reputation as a scholar and respected monk is well-earned.

The opening pages of the book read as follows:

To study Buddhism means to learn from the Buddha. One takes the Buddha as one’s ideal and one’s mentor and learns from him incessantly. When one reaches the same level as the Buddha, then one has become a buddha.

The Buddha, founder of Buddhism, is a man we call “Shakyamuni”. Sometimes books call him by his birth name, Siddhartha Gautama, but Buddhists call him Shakyamuni or Shakyamuni Buddha.

The key to understand is that the Buddha is not a god. And, if we follow the Buddha’s teachings and apply them correctly, we too will rise to the same level as a buddha ourselves.

This is not a quick, “weekend-warrior” effort though.

….For an ordinary person with little good fortune and no wisdom, reaching this supreme and unsurpassed state of buddhahood through practice and study is difficult. But by practicing and studying the necessary methods and by following the right way to buddhahood, one can reach the goal of buddhahood. Only in this way, and without skipping any steps, can one advance to this distant and profound goal….

The goal is profound and difficult, but not impossible. One has to be realistic about the goal, and be willing to accept that it’s a long-term goal. Yet, if one does this, and stays the course, one will assuredly reach Buddha-hood. Yin-shun’s comment about “not skipping steps” is to counter promises by some teacher or cults that by “chanting this magic spell” or “praying to that” one just quickly jumps to Buddhahood. It is a gradual process, regardless of how one approaches it.

The good news is that within Buddhism there is a way array of practices, methods and traditions to help you along the way.

Because beings have different abilities, the Buddha Dharma has different ways: the way of blessedness and virtue, the way of wisdom, the difficult way, the easy way, the mundane way, the supramundane way, the way of the sravaka, the way of the bodhisattva, and so on. But ultimately, there is only one way. All of these ways are nothing but methods to become a buddha “in order to open up and make manifest the Buddhas knowledge and insight to sentient beings, so that they can also apprehend and attain the same.”

The specific ways that Ven. Yin-Shun cites are explained throughout the book, but needless to say, Buddhism is like the Colosseum in Rome, with many gates, all leading inward towards the middle. One only needs to step through one of them, and keep at it in a long-term sustainable way.

This is essentially what Buddhism is all about.

P.S. Happy spring Ohigan season!

1 I wouldn’t recommend the book as a first-pass introduction to Buddhism, but it covers a lot of subjects that are omitted in other books in a single volume.

Highs and Lows

Dr Helen J Baroni’s excellent book Iron Eyes covers the life and writings of Obaku Zen master Tetsugen Dōkō (鉄眼道光, 1630–1682). I’ve mentioned it in a few older posts, but I wanted to share a couple of Tetsugen’s poems really stood out to me:

41. MEETING AN OLD FRIEND

Separated east and west for twenty years.

You exclusively chant the Buddha’s [name, a.k.a. the nembutsu], while I practice meditation.

We meet together, why argue over high and low.

The wind and the moon originate in the same heaven.

Page 167

The “high and low” refers to the perception that the path of monastic self-discipline (as exemplified by the Zen tradition) is the “high road”, while the “low road” is instead relying Amida Buddha’s compassion to be reborn in the Pure Land. Here, Tetsugen argues that they both reach the same destination in the end, so the distinction doesn’t really matter.

Another poem he wrote is:

44. GIVEN TO THE FAITHFUL BELIEVER JONYU, WHO CHANTS THE BUDDHA’S NAME

The body is healthy, the years pour out; your ears and eyes are [still] clear.

Contented and unselfish, you reject personal glory.

Reflected light, in a single moment you penetrate the self.

For the first time you realize that practitioner and Dharma are complete in one body.1

Page 168

What really strikes me about these two poems is that Tetsugen openly acknowledges that his lay friends and followers recite the nembutsu and he’s totally fine with it.

It’s assumed in Japanese Buddhism that a sect practices meditation, or chanting, but not necessarily both. It’s also assumed that Zen people only hang out with Zen people, Pure Land Buddhists with Pure Land Buddhists, etc. There were exceptions: people like Ikkyu and Rennyo who were friends despite totally different practices and backgrounds, but you don’t hear about these often. Yet, in spite of this image, Tetsugen clearly was open to lay people practicing the Pure Land path and saw no conflict with this.

This makes more sense when you consider that Obaku Zen, a cousin of the Rinzai Zen sect, came to Japan from Ming-Dynasty China, when Zen and Pure Land thought had largely reconciled there. The excellent writings of Chinese monk Ouyi Zhixu (蕅益智旭, 1599–1655)2 and Yunqi Zhuhong (雲棲袾宏, 1535–1615)3 are typical of the thought at the time: both Zen and Pure Land Buddhism are different ways of approaching the same Dharma (e.g. Buddhism). One blends into the other.

Even modern Chan (Chinese Zen) teachers such as my favorite, Yin-shun (印順, 1906–2005), had no trouble recommending the nembutsu alongside other practices. In his book The Way to Buddhahood, he wrote:

If therefore, one is timid and finds it difficult to practice the bodhisattva-way, fearing that one will fall into the Two Vehicles or that following the karmic forces will cause one to drift apart from the Buddha Way, then chanting Amitabha Buddha is most secure! It is a wonderfully skillful means that can best embrace and protect those sentient beings who are beginners so that they do not lose their faith.

page 249

But I digress.

It should be noted that Tetsugen in particular was raised in the more native Jodo Shinshu-sect Buddhism and even went to Kyoto to train as a priest but eventually decided to pursue Obaku instead. So, perhaps he still had some connections toward his religious upbringing.

Nonetheless, all this is to say that Obaku Zen, having inherited such an outlook from Chinese Buddhism, takes Amida Buddha as its ideal, but sees Amida in more Zen terms. One is not required to see Amida that way upfront; it just comes in time with practice. Come as you are, and don’t worry if it doesn’t make sense. Someday, it will.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu
Namu Amida Butsu

1 According to Dr Baroni’s footnotes: Kihō, can also be translated as “opportunity and Dharma,” in Pure Land thought, it means that while the sentient beings believe in the Buddha, the Buddha’s power saves sentient beings. Personally, I like to think this relates to Shoku’s comment about the Three Karmic Bonds, too.

2 Pronounced like “Oh-ee Jih-shoo” in English

3 Pronounced like “Yoon-chee Joo-hohng” in English

Making Sense of Zen Lineages

Recently, I found myself stuck in one of my usual nerd “rabbit holes” of trying to make sense of Zen lineages in Japanese Buddhism, but this led to a more complicated rabbit hole of making sense of the source “Chan” (Zen) lineages in China. This started after reading my new book on Rinzai Zen, which included a nice chart. At first, I tried to emulate and translate that chart in Canva, but then I realized it was missing some critical details, so I kept adding more. This is the result (click on the image for more detail):

Let’s go over this a bit so it makes more sense.

The premise behind all Zen sects regardless of country and lineage is that Zen started when the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, supposedly held a flower up to his disciples and said nothing. Everyone was confused except his disciple Maha-Kashyapa who smiled in understanding. From here, according to tradition, the teachings were passed down from teacher to disciples for 28 generations in India, culminating in a monk named Bodhidharma who came to China.

A painting of Bodhidharma at Sojiji temple (head of Soto Zen sect) in Kawasaki, Japan. Taken by me in 2010 (?).

The history up to this point is somewhat vague, and possibly apochryphal, but easy to follow.

This continues for a few more generations in China, until you get to a monk named Hui-Neng (Enō in Japanese)1 who is the supposed author of the Platform Sutra, a Chinese text. As the 6th “patriarch” of the lineage in China, he establishes what we know today as “Chan Buddhism” or Chinese Zen.

Things become more complicated a couple generations later as two descendants: Mazu Daoyi2 and Shitou Xiqian3 directly or indirectly found different schools of Chan Buddhism. This is known as the Five Houses of Chan period during the Tang Dynasty. Thus, the entire Chan/Zen tradition as we know it today is derived from Hui-neng and transmitted through these two men.

Out of the five houses, the Hongzhou,4 Lin-ji and Cao-dong5 all survive in some form. The others are gradually absorbed into the Lin-ji school, which in the long-run is what becomes the most widespread form of Chan Buddhism in China. The Cao-dong school is the one exception, while the Hongzhou school’s success in Korea helps establish 8 out of 9 of the “Nine Schools of Seon (Chan)”6 in Korea. It through Bojo Jinul’s efforts in Korea that these nine schools are unified into the Jogye Order (homepage) which absorbed other Buddhist traditions in Korea into a single, cohesive one.

Meanwhile, in Japan, the Lin-ji and Cao-dong schools find their way to Japan where the names are preserved, but pronounced different: Rinzai and Soto respectively. Rinzai’s history is particularly complicated because they were multiple, unrelated transmissions to Japan often spurred by the Mongol conquest of China. Of these various Rinzai lineages, the two that survive are the “Otokan” Rinzai lineage through Hakuin, and the “Obaku” lineage through Ingen, but eventually the Otokan lineage absorbed the Obaku lineage. Today, Rinzai Zen is more formally called Rinzai-Obaku, or Rinnou (臨黄) for short. This is a bit confusing because Rinzai came to Japan under a monk named Eisai, and his lineage did continue for a while in Japan especially in Kyoto, but the lineage from the rival city of Kamakura ultimately prevailed and absorbed other Rinzai lineages. Obaku Zen arrived pretty late in Japanese-Buddhist history, and as you can see from the chart has some common ancestry with Rinzai, but also some differences due to cultural divergence and history.

Soto Zen’s history is quite a bit more streamlined as it had only one founder (Dogen), and although it did grow to have rival sects for a time, Keizan was credited for ultimately unifying these though not without some controversy even into the 19th century.

Anyhow, to summarize, the entire tradition started from a legendary sermon by the Buddha to Maha-Kashyapa, and was passed on over successive generations in India to a legendary figure who came to China and starting with Hui-neng became a tree with many branches. Yet, the roots are all the same. Speaking as someone who’s relatively new to the tradition, I realize while specific liturgy and practices differ, the general teachings and intent remain the surprisingly consistent regardless of culture or label.

Hope this information helps!

P.S. I had trouble deciding which term to use here: Zen or Chan or Seon since they all literally mean the same thing, but are oriented toward one culture or another. If this all seems confusing, the key to remember is that the entire tradition of Zen/Chan/Seon (and Thien in Vietnam) is all one and the same tree.

P.P.S. I realized that I never covered the Vietnamese (Thien, “tee-ehn”) tradition, but there’s so little information on it in English (and I cannot read Vietnamese), that I will have to differ that to another day.

1 Pronounced like “hwey-nung” in English.

2 Pronounced like “ma-tsoo dow-ee” in English.

3 Pronounced like “shih-tow shee-chee-yen” in English.

4 Pronounced like “hohng-joe” in English.

5 Pronounced like “tsow-dohng” in English.7

6 The Korean word “Seon” is pronounced like “sawn” in English. It is how the Chinese character for Chan/Zen () is pronounced in Korean Language.

7 If you made it this far in the post, congrats! I had to put so many footnotes in here because the Pinyin system of Romanizing Chinese words is a little less intuitive than the old Wade-Giles system. Pinyin is not hard to learn. In fact, I think Pinyin is better than the old Wade-Giles system (more “what you see is what you get”), but if you don’t learn Pinyin it can be confusing.better This is always a challenge with a writing system that strictly uses ideograms (e.g. Chinese characters). How do you write 慧能 into an alphabetic system that foreigners can intuitively understand. Also, which foreigners? (English-speaking, French-speaking, Spanish-speaking, etc). Anyhow, if you are interested in learning Chinese, I highly recommend learning Pinyin anyway because it’s quick and easy to pick up. BTW, since I posted about Hokkien recently it also has two different Rominzation systems: Pe̍h-ōe-jī (old, but widespread) and Tâi-lô (Taiwan’s official revised system).

The Ten Oxen of Buddhism

While reading my introduction book in Japanese about Rinzai Zen, I came across a famous set of paintings that I had totally forgotten about for thirty years.

Me at the age of 17 demonstrating the “Lion Roar Yoga” pose (?) at my world religions class in high school with my teacher. The Burger King crown was something I got from the nearby restaurant because my friends and I would race there during lunch break, eat for 5 minutes, and run back to class. Ah, teenage life….

Many, many moons ago, I was a cocky 17-year old first learning about Buddhism, and Mr Pierini was my World Religions teacher in high school. Mr Pierini was a charming, older Italian-American gentleman who had a lovely opera voice, and loved sharing cool ideas with us kids. This is how I first started to explore Buddhism beyond reading books at home.1

There were a number of things I learned about Zen then that seemed really cool and mystical. Looking back they made no sense to me, but they were fascinating. It sounded “cool” to be Zen, but admittedly, I was young, clueless, showing off, and knew nothing. Among the things I read about at the time were the Mumonkan and the Ten Oxen, texts that (I realize now) are both related to the Rinzai Zen tradition.

The Ten Oxen (shíniú 十牛 in Chinese) is a famous set of ten paintings, with poetic captions that were composed in the Southern Song Dynasty of China. The powerful Song Dynasty lost the northern half of China to the barbarian Jin Dynasty,2 and retreated to the south beyond the Yangtze River, where it held on for another 150 years. Despite having their back to a wall, the southern Song Dynasty oversaw a wonderful flowering of Chinese culture, including Buddhism, and especially Chinese “Chan” (Zen) Buddhism. This is also noteworthy, because historically this is the time when such monks as Eisai and Dogen both came to China from Japan to study Zen.3

The use of oxen as a symbol for taming the mind in Buddhism, according to Wikipedia, dates way back to early India including such texts in the Pali Canon as the Maha-gopalaka Sutta, but the Ten Oxen were a way to visually explain the Buddhist path (as described in the Chan/Zen tradition) to readers as a nice easy introduction. There were, evidentially several versions in circulation, but in Japan the version by one Kakuan (Chinese: Kuòān Shīyuǎn, 廓庵師遠) from the 12th century was all the rage during the Five Mountains Period of Japanese-Buddhist history. It is since known as the jūgyūzu (十牛図).

My book has a nice, down to earth explanation of the ten oxen and what they mean, so rather than posting the images with poetry, I wanted to share the simple explanations here. The illustrations are from Wikimedia Commons, and were originally painted by one Tenshō Shūbun (天章周文; died c. 1444–50).

Searching for the ox

The cowherd is searching for his lost ox. The book explains that this is like someone looking for their lost Buddha-nature: that potential within us to awaken to full Buddha-hood (a.k.a. “Enlightenment”).

Footprints sighted

The cowherd now finds the footprints of his missing ox. This is like the Buddhist disciple who studies the Dharma (e.g. “Buddhism”), and gets the first hints at the true nature of things.

Ox sighted

Just as the cowherd sees his lost ox at last, the disciple of the Buddha grasps the point of the Dharma is (i.e. what’s it all about).

Grasping the Ox

One moment the cowherd has grasped the ox, another moment he is about to lose it. In the same way, my book explains that a person may perceived their true nature one moment, but lose sight of it again. The Buddhist disciple is still inexperienced and lacks certainty.

Taming the Ox

The wayward ox is now under control and lassoed, so the cowherd escorts it back home. For the Buddhist disciple, my book explains that through self-discipline such as the precepts, one’s delusions and conduct are brought to heel. This doesn’t mean they have resolved things, and one can still backslide, but at least they are under control now.

Riding the Ox

The cowherd is now confidently riding atop the ox, playing a flute. This means that one’s Buddha-nature is expressed through one’s form and behavior.

Forgetting the ox

Now that the cowherd is safely home with the ox, the ox is no longer a concern. My book explains that this symbolizes Enlightenment as one attains peace of mind.

Forgetting the distinction between self and ox

Here this empty circle expresses the Zen ideal that all is empty, and that there’s no distinction between oneself and the ox, or anything else for that matter; this is the Heart Sutra in a nutshell.

Back to basics

Having awakening to the nature of all things, things “return to the source” in a sense, or put another way, one sees mountains and mountains, trees as trees, etc. No more, no less.

Returning to society

My book explains that the cowherd now appears like Hotei (Chinese: Budai), the famous, jolly-looking figure in Chinese Buddhism and is in turn sharing the Dharma with another young cowherd. This cowherd will undergo the same quest, starting at picture one above.

In other words, everything comes full-circle.

In the same way, I don’t think teenage me imagined myself blogging about this 30 years later, and a bit more experienced, but life is funny that way.

Namu Shakamuni Butsu

1 Mr Pierini, thank you. 🙏🏼

2 Both would ultimately be destroyed by the Mongols especially under Kublai Khan who formed the Yuan Dynasty. This period of time is important to Japanese Zen history too because the influx of Chinese monks, especially Rinzai monks, to Kamakura-period Japan helped fuel a rise in Zen there. In the same way, the Fall of Constantinople in 1453 helped fuel the Renaissance in the West as refugees from the Eastern Roman Empire brought lost knowledge and know-how to the West. If there was any proof that we’re all connected in some way, look no further.

3 Earlier generations of Buddhist monks like Kukai (founder of Shingon) and Saicho (founder of Tendai) came to China during the Tang Dynasty, when connections to India were still flourishing. Hence, in Kukai’s case, he could study esoteric doctrine and Sanskrit directly from Indian-Buddhist monks. Centuries later, when Dogen and Eisai came to China, Buddhism had declined in India, and had gradually taken root in China in a more Chinese way. Of course, the Dharma is the Dharma, regardless of which culture and time it is taught, but it’s noteworthy that the Buddhism Dogen and Eisai was different: esoteric and scholarly Indian Buddhism had fallen out of favor, and a growing Zen (Chan in Chinese) community had largely replaced them.

Obaku Zen Morning Service

This is just another small, bonus post. A little while back, I was looking into the Obaku school of Zen, but even in Japanese information is pretty hard to find. However, I was able to find this sound clip from the NHK. This is a sound clip of a morning service at Manpuku-ji Temple, the head temple of the sect.

What distinguishes Obaku Zen (ōbaku-shū, 黄檗宗) from other Zen sects, and Japanese Buddhism in general is how late it was imported into Japan from China. Most sects imported during the Tang or Song dynasties, namely 8th or 11th centuries. But Obaku Zen came to Japan during the Ming Dynasty (14th century). It shares the same common lineage as Japanese Rinzai Zen, so they’re sibling sects. Yet, across centuries some things had diverged, and Obaku imports a lot more Ming-era Buddhist aspects, such as a fusion of Pure Land and Zen teachings (which came later in Chinese-Buddhist history), and changes to liturgy and pronunciation.1

So, if you ever see Obaku Zen liturgy (I’ve only seen a few screenshots), it sounds somewhat different even when it’s the same liturgy, because pronunciation changed over time in China.

Anyhow, just a minor nerd moment. Please enjoy!

1 Languages change and shift, including Chinese. Chinese-Buddhist liturgy imported to Japan from the Tang Dynasty would sound different than the same imported into Japan during the Ming. If that seems far-fetched, look at English language.

The Lotus Sutra: the Capstone Teaching?

It’s been a while since I discussed anything that relates to Tendai Buddhism, but I was doing a bit of nerd-reading with my free time, and thought this was interesting to share.

As Buddhism spread from India via the Silk Road, transmitted by such peoples as the Kushans, Sogdians, and Parthians (the same Parthians who contended with Rome from to time), the vast wealth of Buddhist texts, teachings and information flooded into China in waves.

This import of information was kind of haphazard at first, but as translations improved and information continued to come, China developed its own schools of thought to help make sense of it all.

One of the first successful efforts was by a Chinese monk named Zhi-yi (智顗, 538–597 CE)1 who founded the Tiantai school. He, or possibly by later patriarch Zhan-ran (湛然, c. 711-782 CE),2 analyzed the various teachings and Buddhist texts and developed a chronology called the Five Time Periods and Eight Teachings (五時八教, wǔshí bājiào).3 This chronology looks like so:

  1. The Buddha (Shakyamuni) taught the Flower Garland Sutra first, but it was incomprehensible to disciples.
  2. The Buddha stepped back and taught Agama sutras next. The Agamas are equivalent to the Pali Canon in the Theravada tradition, and nearly the same in terms of content. The Agama sutras were more grounded and practical and thus easier for his community to understand.
  3. Next, the Buddha taught sutras such as the Vimalakirti Sutra as an introduction to Mahayana teachings, and thus higher than the Agamas.
  4. Next, the Buddha taught the Perfection of Wisdom sutras, such as the Heart Sutra, as a more complete teachings.
  5. Finally, the Buddha taughy his ultimate teachings: the Lotus Sutra and Nirvana Sutra because the disciples were now ready.

Thus, out of all the Buddhist texts, Zhi-yi argued that the Lotus Sutra was the complete and ultimate teaching (円教). In Japanese Tendai Buddhism, 円教 is pronounced as engyō, or is sometimes more formally called hokke engyō (法華円教, “the complete teaching that is the Lotus Sutra”). Much of Tendai Buddhism is thus about putting the Lotus Sutra teachings into practice. From the Tendai perspective, things like meditation, venerating Amida Buddha, esoteric practices like mantras, and upholding the precepts are all ways to put the Lotus Sutra into practice, and Zhi-yi wrote quite a bit about this subject.4 The idea, expressed through the phrase shi-shū-yū-gō (四宗融合) or “Four Integrated Schools”.

The historicity of Zhi-yi’s textual analysis is unfortunately pretty dubious. Modern archeology and Buddhology show that the very earliest texts, historically, were the Agamas / Pali Canon (the Dhammapada and Jataka Tales probably came even earlier), but even those were not recorded in writing until three to four centuries after the Buddha. So, even with the earliest texts, we have a gap from when the early disciples passed everything down orally before committing to writing generations later. Granted, Indian oral tradition was quite sophisticated and designed to minimize errors and corruptions in recitation, but the Agamas and Pali Canon do slightly diverge from one another, mostly in ways that are interesting to scholars only.

The Mahayana Sutras such as the Vimalakirti Sutra, Lotus Sutra and Perfection of Wisdom sutras were written down even later. One could argue that they were passed down orally5 and just recorded later for some reason, but textual analysis casts this into doubt. The Mahayana sutras are more like “reboots” or compilations of earlier teachings, more polished and such.

Which is where the Lotus Sutra comes in, I think.

This is personal bias, admittedly, but I do believe that the Lotus Sutra is a capstone of the Buddhist tradition, not because the Buddha saved it for last. Instead, the authors of the sutra did a really nice job of synthesizing earlier teachings into a single narrative, and devised clever parables to bring the teachings to readers in a fresh, new way. The Lotus Sutra doesn’t necessarily introduce a lot of new teachings so much as it brings it all together. Like a capstone or keystone. There’s something in there for everyone, in other words.

So, to me the Five Time Periods and Eight Teachings isn’t very useful in a literal, historical sense, but it is useful for showing how some sutras synthesize other sutras into increasing comprehensive narratives.

P.S. featured photo is the capstone of the main entrance of Giusti’s Palace, photo by Paolo Villa, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

1 Pronounced like “Jer-yee” in English. The “zhi” in pinyin sounds like English “jerk” without the “k” at the end. His name in Japanese is read as Chigi, by the way.

2 Pronounced like “John-ron” in English. In Japanese, his name is read as Tannen.

3 This is read in Japanese language as gojihakkõ.

4 Pure Land practices as we recognize them do not seem to be prominent in Zhiyi’s time and were adopted into Tiantai later, and thus Japanese Tendai even later through such figures as Genshin.

5 The Lotus Sutra, for example is a mix of verse sections with narrative text around them. It’s argued that the verse sections came first, and then authors composed the narrative sections around them. When the verse sections were first composed is anyone’s guess.

Introducing the Heart Sutra

Recently, I wrote a brief introduction to the Buddhist canon, the sutras. Sutras come in many shapes and forms, but I want to focus on one of the most famous, and most popular to recite: The Heart Sutra.

A sutra book from Japan showing the Heart Sutra, preserved in old Chinese, but with Japanese pronunciation guides.

The full name of this sutra is the Heart of the Perfection of Wisdom Sutra (般若波羅蜜多心經), and was one in a series of “perfection of wisdom sutras” that were published starting around 2nd century BCE. Starting with the “Perfection of Wisdom in 8,000 Verses Sutra“, the authors made longer and longer versions, culminating to a 25,000 verse version of hte same sutra. Then, they started making shorter versions, getting down to the Diamond Sutra, and finally the Heart Sutra.

Or, so the theory goes.

The Heart Sutra is believed to distill the essence or “heart” of the Perfection of Wisdom teachings to its smallest, most essential version. More on that soon. This version is very short, can be read in 1-2 minutes, and is pretty cryptic. Because it is so short, it is easy to learn and memorize, and thus easy to recite. Its utility for everyday Buddhists is among the reasons it has such lasting popularity. I have a copy of a translation of the 8,000 verse sutra,1 and while it is interesting, it is a tome. It is not practical for most Buddhists to read such a tome, so you can imagine why the Heart Sutra was composed, and why it is so much more popular.

But that gets to an interesting question: who composed it? This is a surprisingly difficult question to answer.

The traditional assumption was that it was composed in India, using Sanskrit language, and then brought to China like most other Buddhist sutras. And yet, a scholar named Dr. Jan Nattier proposed an interesting theory that the Heart Sutra in particular was composed in China, not India, and that it was translated back to Sanskrit, not from it, by our favorite wandering monk Xuan-zang when he visited India. There is considerable debate about this, and valid arguments for one or the other, but it’s an interesting idea that some plucky Chinese monk found a clever way to distill the Perfection of Wisdom teachings into a more bite-sized form.

That said, one of the interesting features of the Heart Sutra is that it does contain a genuine Sanskrit mantra at the end (a trend that continues with later Buddhist texts) in the Siddham script:

𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖢𑖯𑖨𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖢𑖯𑖨𑖭𑖽𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖤𑖺𑖠𑖰𑖭𑖿𑖪𑖯𑖮𑖯
ga te ga te pā ra ga te pā ra saṃ ga te bo dhi svā hā

For various reasons, this mantra was written in Chinese characters that approximated the pronunciation of the Sanskrit:

𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖢𑖯𑖨𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖢𑖯𑖨𑖭𑖽𑖐𑖝𑖸 𑖤𑖺𑖠𑖰𑖭𑖿𑖪𑖯𑖮𑖯
羯諦 羯諦 波羅羯諦 波羅僧羯諦 菩提薩婆訶

So, what is the teaching of the Heart Sutra?

As I eluded to earlier, the Heart Sutra is the most condensed version of the Perfection of Wisdom teachings, or prajñā-pāramitā in Sanskrit. This was a teaching that provided an important foundation for Mahayana Buddhism (everything from Tibet to Japan). “Perfection of Wisdom” is hard to explain. But, roughly speaking you can think of it as the fundamental understanding of existence, which is sitting right in front of your face, but not obvious until you see it. Like the first time you noticed a small crack in the wall. Once you see it, you don’t “unsee” it.

But instead, the Perfection of Wisdom is about undoing the filters in one’s own mind, so you can see the world unvarnished. That’s easy to say, but extremely tricky to sincerely accomplish. Hence the extraordinary accomplishments of the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas.

The Heart Sutra talks a lot about “not this”, and “not that”, and like other similar sutras (e.g. the Diamond Sutra, another of the series), this is to try and undo the filters of one’s own mind. But, on its surface, the Heart Sutra is cryptic and vague. Yet, because it is so pithy, and so over time bits of it start to sink in, or something that didn’t make sense in the past finally clicks.

So, if you do pick up a copy of the Heart Sutra, don’t worry if it doesn’t really make sense. Recite it from time to time,2 study it with help sutras guides (there are many) and make it a part of your Buddhist life, regardless of what tradition you follow.

For a such tiny, little composition, it’s a pretty neat contribution to Buddhism.

1 Purchased years ago at Powell’s City of Books in Portland, OR. One of the best bookstores, and well worth a visit if you go there.

2 Some people recite in their native language, others recite in one or more “liturgical” languages. It doesn’t really matter. Pick something you can stick with. You can change it later.