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Sensei Sangen Salon teisho Rohatsu-sesshinillä Sannejissa, Karjaalla 2025, Suomi (in Finnish).

This episode we are talking about the Four Great Temples--Asukadera, Daikandaiji (aka Kudara Odera), Kawaradera, and Yakushiji.  Much of the information, outside of the Nihon Shoki itself, comes from Donald F. McCallum's book:  "The Four Great Temples: Buddhist Archaeology, Architecture, and Icons of Seventh-Century Japan". For sources, photos, and more information, check out our blogpost at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-142 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 142: The Four Great Temples   Rising up into the sky, the bronze spire atop the pagoda seemed to touch the heavens.  The beams, doors, and railings were all painted bright red, with white walls, and green painted bars on the windows.  At each level, the eaves swept out, covered in dark ceramic tiles, with shining bronze plaques covering the ends of the roof beams.  At each corner, a bronze bell hung, chiming in the breeze.  This pattern continued upwards, tier after tier. Around the base of the pagoda, throngs of government officials dressed in their formal robes of office moved past, flowing through the temple's central gates.  As they passed, they looked up at the impressive tower, the largest of its kind in all of Yamato.  From somewhere, a deep bell chimed, and the crowds made their way towards the lecture hall.  There, the monks were prepared, with sutras and voices at the ready.  Facing a sacred image, they would read through their sutras in unison.  Their voices would carry through the great empty space and reverberate through the crowds—those that could get close enough to hear, anyway.  The chanting created a musical cacophony.     In that sea of human voices, one could almost sense something more—something spiritual.  A power, that one could almost believe could hold at bay just about any disaster that could befall a person—or even the state itself.   Alright, so this episode we are still in the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou.  I know we've already seen how that ends, but there is still a lot to cover. But before I go too far, I'd like to first give  a shout out to Lisa for helping to support the show on Ko-Fi.  I can't tell you how much we appreciate it.  If you would like to support us as well, we'll have more information at the end of this, and every episode. We've talked about how the reign of Ohoama was a time where the court reinforced, but also subtly adjusted, the laws of the Ritsuryo state.  They seem to have equally courted the Kami, Buddhism, and even continental ideas of yin and yang.  Today we are going to dive into Buddhism and the State.  More specifically, I want to talk about something called the Yondaiji, the Four Great Temples, and look at how these government temples, also known as "kanji" or "Tsukasa no dera" came to be, what we know about them from archaeological research, and the role they played in the State.  This is going to probably recap things from earlier episodes.  I am also drawing a lot from a book by Donald F. McCallum called, appropriately, "The Four Great Temples", which goes into a lot more detail than I'll be able to get into, here, but I recommend it for those who are really interested in this subject. Up to this point, we've talked a little about the relationship that the court had with Buddhism.  By the late 7th century, Buddhism had spread throughout the archipelago, and there were many temples likely created by local elites.  Sensoji, in Asakusa, Tokyo, claims a founding of 628, though it may have actually been founded sometime just after 645.  There are other temples around Japan, far from the Home Provinces, which likewise had similar claims to being founded in the early to late 7th century, and I question how much a role the government had in each of them. .  In 673, there were two temple-related mentions of note in the Chronicles.  In one of Ohoama's earliest edicts he orders the copying of the Issaiko, the Buddhist canon, at Kawaradera.   That same year, 673, Prince Mino and Ki no Omi no Katamaro—whom we discussed last episode—were sent to build Takechi temple, later known as Daikandaiji.  I mention Daikandaiji specifically because while it was originally built as the Temple of Takechi, at some point took on that other  name—"Daikandaiji", aka Ohotsukasa no Ohodera—which Aston translates as the "Great Temple of the Great Palace", as it appears to have specifically been designated as the great temple of the government. In other words, it is one of a few National Temples.  And this became particularly important in the year 680, which is the year we are told the government stopped administering—and, more importantly, stopped funding—all but a handful of so-called "national temples".  At this point, as I've mentioned, Buddhism was widespread enough that there were enough adherents that could maintain their own local temples. Of course, local elites likely found some cachet in funding temples, and communities of believers in various areas would likewise have been asked to provide funds as well. So the court accordingly declared that going forward, the government would only administer 2 or 3 national temples.  For all other temples, if tthey had been granted the proceeds of sustenance-fiefs, those would be limited, from the first year to the last, of 30 years in total.  As I read it, that indicates that if they had received the fiefs 15 years ago, they would be allowed to hold onto them for another 15 years, after which point they would need to find alternative sources of funding.  The early national temples appear to be Daikandaiji and Kawaradera.  Finally, there is Yakushiji, which Ohoama began construction on in 680 for his queen, Uno no Sarara, when she was ill—and just hold on to that for now.  Interestingly, Asukadera, or Houkouji, in many ways the original national temple, was not designated as such in the new reorganization, but it would continue to be administered by the government as a temple in a special arrangement. That's why the original count in the Nihon Shoki mentions "2 or 3" national temples instead of four.  These four temples are mentioned in the Shoku Nihongi, the Chronicles following the Nihon Shoki, as the Four Great Temples, or Yondaiji.  Although that work wasn't compiled and published until the end of the 8th century, the term Yondaiji appears in an entry for 702, about five years after the last entry in the Nihon Shoki, and over a decade before its publication So at this point we're going to look at each of these "great" temples individually, plus a couple of other important ones, and what they tell us about the history of Buddhism, Buddhist temples, and the Yamato state at this point in Ohoama's reign. The first of these four temples, chronologically, is Asukadera.  This is the temple originally built by the Soga, and the first major Buddhist temple built.  Its layout shows three separate golden image halls, or kondou.  And here we should probably recap something about the general layout of a Buddhist temple, so we can understand what we are talking about. The most important buildings in a Buddhist temple at this time were the kondou, the golden image halls; the pagoda, or stupa; and the koudou, or lecture hall.  The golden image halls held golden Buddhist images—Buddhas, Boddhisatvas, Arthats, and more.  These rooms are often somewhat dark, and would have been lit mainly by candles, as well as the sun coming through—though even then the sun often is obscured by overhanging rooves and latticework.  Sometimes the doors would have small openings so that the sun's rays strike in a particular way at different times.  All of this presents an image of bright gleaming gold in the darkness—a metaphor for the teachings of the Buddha, but also an intentionally awe inspiring display for those who came to view them and pray. The kondo were usually the first structures to be built for a temple, so if your temple had nothing else, it probably had an image hall. The next structure that one would probably build would be the stupa, or pagoda.  A pagoda was a tower, in which were sometimes kept images, but more importantly, it would often hold some kind of relic.  The idea of the stupa originated as a place to house relics—often bone fragments and teeth attributed to the Buddha, even if those were actually precious stones.  Stupas were originally (and still, in many places) large mounds, but as Buddhism made its way over the Silk Road, these were replaced with multi-tiered towers. Pagodas are often 3 or 5 storeys, though the number of stories can go up to 7 or 9 or as low as 1.    Once again, in a world where most buildings, other than perhaps a specially made lookout tower, were only one or maybe two stories in height, a three to five story pagoda must have been something to behold, especially covered with tiled eaves, adorned with bronze bells, and brightly painted in the continental fashion. In Europe I would point to similar uses of gold and ostentatious ornamentation on the cathedrals of the day, and even in churches more generally, if on a smaller scale.  This is meant to impress and thus lend authority to the institution.  And of course, because that institution was so closely aligned to the State, it gave the State authority as well.  We mentioned, previously, how the monumental structures of the kofun had given way to the Buddhist temples as a form of ritual display. The last of the three buildings I would mention is the lecture hall, or Koudou.  This would also likely have Buddhist images, but it was more of a functional hall for conducting rituals, including recitation of sutras and presenting Buddhist teachings.  The koudou was often at the back or north end of the temple complex.  In early Buddhist temple layouts, it was common to have everything in a straight line, more or less, and to remain symmetrical.  So there would be a main gate through which one would enter.  In front of you there you probably saw the pagoda.  Beyond the pagoda was a path, and then the kondou, or image hall, typically with a lantern in front, and behind that was the koudou, or lecture hall.  This was all typically oriented on a north-south axis, such that one would enter through the southern gate and walk north towards the lecture hall.  The north-south orientation is likely another feature from the continent, where the most important buildings were often south-facing, and thus in the north of the compound.  This was the same with the palace layout, and likely for similar reasons—not just cultural, but also practical.  After all, the sun, in the northern hemisphere, remains slightly to the south, and so this would have provided the most light through the day.   This layout was not strictly adhered to, however. For instance, if we look at Asukadera, you would enter through the southernmost gate and you were then met with another gate for an inner compound.  This middle gate would lead you to a large courtyard, about 320 meters on a side, with a covered walkway, or gallery, along the entire circumference of the compound.  Entering through the middle gate one would have first noticed the large pagoda and not one but three golden image halls.  A path led to the pagoda, and then beyond from the pagoda to the central kondou.  There is even a stone where a large bronze lantern was likely situated between the pagoda and the kondou.  Based on archaeological evidence, it appears that there was originally just one image hall, directly north of the pagoda, but at a later date, they added two more kondou to the east and west of the pagoda.  This has been compared to a temple layout found in Goguryeo, but given that these were likely later additions, and we know that Baekje artisans were involved, I suspect that is just later coincidence. Connecting the layout of the temples to continental examples has been a keen area of study for many scholars.  The general theory is that temple layouts can help point to whether there was more of a Baekje, Silla, or Goguryeo influence during the construction of the temple, and what that might have meant for Yamato's international relations as well as various political factions in the court who may have leaned more towards one group or another. The last building at Asukadera, the koudou, or lecture hall, was directly north of the kondou, but you couldn't get there directly.  The entire pagoda and image hall compound was separate from the lecture hall, which stood north and apart, though still on the temple grounds, which would have been surrounded by an outer wall.   At this point, since we're talking about the layout of Asukadera and where it came from, I'm going to digress from the next of the four great temples and talk about two other early temples that are important for understanding Buddhist temple building at this time. So bear with me for this slight detour. The first of these is Shitennoji, the Temple of the Four Heavenly Kings, in modern Osaka.  This temple is said to have been built in 593, and is attributed to Shotoku Taishi.  Presumably he made a vow to do so during the war between the Soga and the Mononobe, which we discussed back in episode 91.  As you may recall from that and earlier episodes, the Mononobe were considered to be against the idea of Buddhism, while the Soga were promoting it.  Shitennouji was important, but doesn't show up in the Chronicles as much as other temples, and was all the way over in Naniwa.  As such, I suspect that it was not considered a good candidate for "national" temple status at the time.  Still, if we look at the original layout, Shitennoji is quite similar to what we see in Asukadera.  Everything is on a north-south axis.  You go through a middle gate to the inner compound.  There you find a pagoda, and past that, a lantern and then the kondou.  Unlike Asukadera, the koudou, or lecture hall, is incorporated into the back wall, such that the gallery continues from the middle gate around to either side, and then meets at the sides of the lecture hall.  There are also east and west gates, as well as other buildings, but the main layout is pretty comparable. The second is another temple, which also lays claim to being founded by Prince Shotoku Taishi, and which was not included in the four great temples.  This may have had to do with the fact that it wasn't in the Asuka valley, but also may have had to do with just the timing.  That temple is the famous one known as Horyuji.  Horyuji was founded on the site of the Ikaruga palace, said to have been the home of none other than Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.  As such, one imagines it was quite the prominent temple in its day.  However, it was at a distance from the capital, and it also had the misfortune to have burned down in about 670, just before Ohoama ascended the throne, and it wasn't fully rebuilt until about 711, leaving a forty year gap where the temple was not necessarily at the forefront of Buddhism. Still, like Shitennoji, it is interesting to look at the original layout for Horyuji and compare it to Asukadera.  First off, you have the same north-south orientation, and you have the same separate, internal compound for the image hall and the pagoda.  Unlike in Asukadera, however, the kondou and the pagoda, which both faced south, were on an east-west axis, flanking the central pathway.  Entering through the middle gate one would have seen a five storey pagoda on the left and the kondo on the right.  The Koudou was outside the inner compound in the rear, along that central north-south axis.  There is also evidence of two other buildings.  One likely held a large bell—and possibly a drum—and the other was likely a sutra repository, where they could keep holy texts and various ritual implements. I will also note that, even though Horyuji burned down in 670 and was accordingly not that prominent during Ohoama's reign, it is absolutely worth visiting because substantial portions of those rebuilt buildings are still standing today. Indeed, both the Horyuji pagoda and kondou are among the oldest wooden buildings in the world. The central pillar of the pagoda was felled in 594 according to dendrochronological dating. The kondou was damaged by fire during a restoration in 1949, but about 15-20% of the original building from 670 still remains.  Going back to the Great Temples, the next of these to be built was Kudara Ohodera.  Kudara here means "Baekje", but this appears to refer more to the temple's location near the Kudara river, rather than to the kingdom of Baekje.  Kudara Ohodera is remarkable in a couple of different ways.  First off, there is the fact that it is the first temple with a firm royal lineage—that is to say a temple that claims to have been founded by the sovereign.  Asukadera was founded by Soga no Umako, the Prime Minister, and though Prince Umayado is said to have been the Crown Prince, nonetheless, he never reigned as sovereign, though he was considered the founder of both Shitenouji and Houryuuji.  Kudara Ohodera, however, is said to have been founded at the behest of Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, who reigned from 629-641.  The temple appears to get its start in a record dated to 639, and by 645 it appears to be fully operational. There is another tale of its founding—in the Daianji Engi, the history of Daianji, a successor temple to Kudara Ohodera, there is mention of a Kumagori Dojo, and many modern histories claim that this was the actual first temple, but there isn't much evidence.  Donald McCallum, in his treatment of Kudara Ohodera's history in his book, "The Four Great Temples", suggests that the Kumagori Dojo story is likely a later legendary founding that got recorded, as there is scant evidence for it, and no mention of it in other records.  On the actual founding of Kudara Ohodera, however, there does appear to be general agreement with the Nihon Shoki, despite some minor differences in the dates. The call to build Kudara Ohodera comes alongside Tamura's also building Kudara Palace.  Kudara Ohodera was also built on a grand scale, and it is said to have had a nine-storey pagoda—almost double the size of a five-storey pagoda, which already towered over other buildings of the time. Despite all of this, for a long time it was unclear where Kudara Ohodera was actually situated.  There were several sites proposed, but most recently archaeological research on Kibi Pond seems to have placed the temple there.  At excavations on the southern side of the pond were found remnants of the foundations of two buildings, arranged in an east-west format.  The western foundation would appear to be for a pagoda—but one much larger than any of the five storey pagodas we've seen elsewhere.  And to the east was the foundation for what appears to be the kondo.  This golden image hall, however, is likewise much larger than any other hall of this time.  This arrangement would fit very well with a Houryuuji-like temple layout.  There were also various other traces that were consistent with the early mid-7th century, which would coincide with the 639-645 dates for Kudara Ohodera's construction.  Subsequent excavations appear to have found quarters for the priests, as well as at least part of a gallery wall and one gate, situated due south of the kondo.  There may have been another gate south of the pagoda.  The koudou, the lecture hall, may have been in the area that was later excavated to create the pond, and therefore we may never have any hard evidence of its location, despite numerous attempts to dig trenches to find more of the temple buildings.  This probably also means that, similar to Shitennouji, the lecture hall  was incorporated into the enclosing gallery wall rather than being outside, because if it was outside, then it likely would have been farther north and we would probably have seen some trace.  As it is, the lack of any trace suggests that it was inside or part of the enclosure with the pagoda and kondou. The large size of this archeological site concurs with what we know about Kudara Ohodera, both in its description and in the fact that it is referred to as "Ohodera", or "Great Temple"—no other temple has really been given that name directly, though there are a few references to "Ohodera"  that are ambiguous and might refer either to this temple or Asukadera..  Still, if this temple, sometimes also called Kibi Pond Temple due to its location, is *not* Kudara Ohodera then that just brings up more questions.  How could there have been such a monumental Buddhist temple this close to Asuka and within the bounds of the later Fujiwara-kyo and yet nobody thinks to mention it?  It doesn't appear to have been started and abandoned, as there were quite a few structures built.  So if this isn't Kudara Temple then someone has some 'splaining to do. Indeed, McCallum notes that while there are some objections, the preponderance of evidence seems to lean greatly in favor of the Kibi Pond site for Kudara Ohodera.  We still have yet to find the Kudara palace, however, so who knows.  There are also questions about the construction as various architectural features are missing in ways that are not consistent with other sites. Some oddities, such as a seeming lack of rooftiles given the apparent size of the building, actually may be a point in favor of this being Kudara Ohodera, since we know that the temple was moved in 673 when Ohoama requested that they build the Takechi Ohodera, which appears to have been Kudara's successor temple.  If they had reused the material from Kudara Ohodera to build, at least in part, Takechi Ohodera, that could explain why rooftiles and other such things are not present in the numbers expected at the Kibi Pond site. Takechi Ohodera is another bit of a mystery.  I can't help but note that Takechi is the name given Ohoama's son who was with him on the front lines of the Jinshin no Ran.  We also see a "Takechi no Agata-nushi", who is noted as the governor of the district of Takechi.  In all cases here it is spelled "Taka-ichi", or "high market", and it is not an uncommon name—we even find a Miwa no Kimi no Takechimaro.  In the record of the Jinshin no Ran it is noted that the governor of Takechi was possessed by the kami of Takechi and of Musa.  These were named as Kotoshironushi and Ikuikazuchi.  They claimed that they had been the kami that escorted Ohoama to Fuwa and saw him safely there.  As such, donations were made to their shrines.  Musa is an area in modern Takaichi district, which includes the area of Asuka, and is part of Kashihara city.  The Takaichi Agata Jinja—or the Takechi District Shrine—sits in the Shijo area of Kashihara city, north of Mt. Unebi. There are several proposed locations for Takechi Ohodera, but despite excavations, no clear temple features have been found.  As such, there isn't anything to clearly point to one or the other. What we do know is that Takechi Ohodera underwent another transformation.  According to the Daianji Engi, the Takechi Ohodera was renamed to Daikandaiji in 677.  There is no specific mention of this in the Nihon Shoki, other than a note that Takechi Ohodera was also known as Daikandaiji and a reference, in 679, of "fixing the names".  Personally, I can't help but wonder if this is a case of a nickname becoming the name-in-fact.  As I mentioned earlier in the episode, Daikandaijij, which can also be read as "Oho-tsukasa no Oho-tera" can be translated into something like Great Government Official Great Temple or Great Temple of the Royal Court.  We do know the location of this temple in later years, but this is probably not exactly where Takechi Ohodera was originally built. For one thing, it is suspicious that the temple lines up exactly with the later grid for Fujiwara-kyo, the later capital city that was built north of Asuka.  We also are told by the Daianji Engi that a nine storey pagoda and kondou were built between 697 and 707 CE.  There are also notes about activities at the temple mentioned in the Shoku Nihongi for the same period.  And yet there were also activities being held during that time which would not seem feasible if they were renovating in place.  So likely the new construction was at a new site—possibly near the old site.  And at this later site, the rooftiles were from a later period, closer to the period of the later construction and not really matching with earlier construction dates. So what did this temple of many names – Kudara Ohodera, then Takechi Ohodera, then Daikandaiji – actually look like?  We probably have a layout for the original temple and the later temple.  If Kibi Pond Temple is the original Kudara Ohodera, the original temple had the kondou and the pagoda on the same east-west axis, and likely had the koudou north of that – very Horyuji-like.  But based on the layout at the later temple site, we have something quite different.  From the central gate, there is a path straight towards the Kondou, with the Koudou directly north of that, and the nine-storey pagoda in an odd, off-set position, southeast of the kondou.  This disrupts the symmetry even more than the Kudara Ohodera layout.  There is some speculation that this asymmetry was temporary and that they planned to fill the other space but just never got around to it, but there is no indication that they had prepared for anything, either.  Also odd is the fact that the koudou, the lecture hall, was the same size as the image hall, the kondou, and that was roughly the same size as the enormous hall at Toudaiji, which is really saying something.  This really was a tremendous building, fitting for the main temple of the royal government. The third of the four great temples is Kawaradera, and this one is challenging to plot out chronologically as there isn't a lot of documentation.  There is no exact date for the building of Kawaradera.  There is a mention of it in 653, but the same entry in the Nihon Shoki also states that there are sources that claim it should be Yamadadera, instead.  Based on other evidence, this actually seems more likely.  Yamadadera is thought to have been the work of Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro, and it is where he eventually fled when accused of treason.  It was founded in 641, according to the Joguki, the record of Prince Shotoku, but construction didn't actually start until2 years later, and monks only began to occupy it in 648.  The following year, however, construction halted as that is when Ishikawa no Maro fled there and committed suicide.  Construction was resumed in 663, but still took time.  Still, even in the middle of this very long DIY project, it makes sense that there might be some activities in 653, even if construction was paused.   Later the temple would be completed, and seems to have had powerful backing.  Uno no Sarara, Ohoama's queen, was a granddaughter of Ishikawa no Maro, and so likely had a connection to the temple, but it never attained the status of a national temple the way the others had.  As far as its layout—it was similar to Shitennouji, with the pagoda, kondo, and koudou all in a line on the north-south axis. Kawaradera was another matter.  Though we aren't sure when it was built, exactly.  If we discount the 653 date as applying to Yamadadera instead, then the first date we really see anything at Kawara is Kawara Palace, built for Takara Hime—aka Saimei Tennou—who took up residence there when the Itabuki Palace burned.  Later it would be used for her mogari—her temporary interment.  The next mention of a temple at Kawara isn't until this reign, in 673, when Ohoama had the Buddhist canon, the Issaiko, copied, as I noted at the top of the episode.  So it must have been established and built some time before 673. Although we don't know when it was founded, we very clearly know where it was, as the foundations stones are still present, and quite clear—and unlike other Asuka era temples, it would stay in Asuka, rather than being removed up to the new capital at Heijo-kyo. Given everything else and its apparent importance, the lack of information on when Kawaradera was established is quite odd.  McCallum suggests that this could have been deliberate as a way to help delegitimize the temple in the 8th century, but also admits that it may have just been due to the general problems with early record keeping back in the day and there may not have been a good record of why and when the temple was founded.  The rooftiles are similar to those used during the time that the court was at Ohotsu.  I would also note that there is a connection between the foundation stones and a quarry up near Ohotsu at what is, today, Ishiyamadera.  That still doesn't tell us when Kawaradera was founded, as that could have been any time, and doesn't necessarily mean that it was during the time the court was in Ohotsu. Regardless of what textual evidence does or does not exist, the archaeological evidence is pretty staggering.  Even today you can go and see some of the exposed foundation stones.  This was a massive temple.  There was a south gate and then a middle gate just north of that.  The main enclosure was divided into two courtyards.  In the first, just beyond the middle gate, at the north end was the middle kondo, while in the courtyard itself, facing each other on an east-west axis, was a western kondou and the temple pagoda.  Past the middle kondou was a larger courtyard, with the koudou, or lecture hall, in the north, with a bell tower or sutra hall in the south west and southeast corners.  The walls of the enclosure were made up of a covered gallery, and around the outside of the northern courtyard, containing the koudou, were smaller chambers believed to be the monks quarters, something we don't necessarily see at all of the other sites. Despite being an important temple, and one of the Four Great Temples during the Asuka periods, when the capital eventually moved to Heijo-kyo, in modern Nara, Kawaradera had the distinction of being the only one of the four that was not moved as well. All three of the other Great Temples had new compounds built in Heijo-kyo, and the temples were thus "transferred" to the new capital.  Presumably that means that most of the monks and administration moved there, and those new temples took up the roles, duties, and responsibilities of the old temples.  The temple complexes in Asuka were not necessarily destroyed or deconstructed, but instead were apparently left to their own devices, becoming reduced in status.  Many of them fell into disrepair, and when disasters, such as fire, struck they were not rebuilt to the same extent as before, if at all.   Kawaradera, however, appears to have not been transferred.  It would eventually be replaced as one of the Four Great Temples by the temple of Koufukuji, which was specifically a temple for the Fujiwara family, who were having a bit of a moment in the Nara period.  Some have speculated that Kawaradera was specifically left behind in Asuka for that reason—so that the Fujiwara family temple could sneak into the ranks of national temples.  Or it may have been that Kawaradera had a particular connection to Takara Hime and the site of her interment.  If it was a memorial temple to her, then perhaps it didn't seem appropriate to remove it from its physical location.  McCallum also suggests that it was so powerful in its position in Asuka that it preferred to stay and keep its stipend-fiefs, perhaps believing that even the move to Heijo-kyo would be just another short fad, as had been Ohotsu and Fujiwara-kyo.  Of course, if so, they were sorely mistaken. And so Kawaradera would eventually fade from the picture, but during the time of Ohoama's reign, and into that of his immediate successors, it seems that it certainly held some sway. The fourth of the Four Great Temples was the temple of Yakushiji—the temple of the Medicine Buddha.  This is the latest temple of the bunch.  Its construction was ordered in the year 680 in response to Ohoama's queen, Uno no Sarara, falling ill.  And so he vowed to build a temple for her—specifically a temple to Yakushi Nyorai, the Medicine Buddha, whom we discussed last episode.  That said, there is considerable time between the order to construct a temple and getting enough of it built to actually be functional.  I haven't really touched on this, except when I briefly discussed Yamadadera and how long that took to build, but all of these temples were massive works, much more complicated than the traditional palace buildings.  For the most part, palace architecture could be built relatively quickly with the tools and labor available.  This was a good thing, seeing as how, for many years, the sovereign had moved again and again, either because of the previous sovereign's death in the palace or just because they chose a new location for a palace.  As such, one couldn't spend years building a new palace.  So palace buildings were simply made with wooden posts, sunk into the ground, with thatched roofs.  In a few examples we see attempts to use wooden boards or tiles, but they weren't complicated. A temple, on the other hand, was something different.  Temples were largely wood, but they were massive in size and their roofs were covered in heavy ceramic tiles.  All of that weight had to be properly distributed on a strong base—simple posts were not likely to work.  Instead they were built on raised stone foundations.  That's great for us looking at them, today, but at the time it would have been an inordinate amount of labor.  Hence why a temple like Yamadadera took so long to build. So Yakushiji may have been founded in 680, but was likely not finished until much later, which is why we don't really see it in the records for Ohoama's reign and why the order for national temples probably only states that there were just two or three.  However, it would become one of the four great temples, and is also notable because, in its transfer to Heijokyo, it largely retained its shape and layout, meaning that you can go to it, today, and still get some sense of what it may have been like back in the Asuka period.  Granted, there are certainly differences, but there are enough similarities that it is likely worth a visit.  Many of the other temples were significantly modified when they were rebuilt in the new capital in Nara.  The layout for Yakushiji is a basic rectangular layout.  North of the central gate there is not one, but two pagodas, on an east-west axis from each other, flanking the path to the kondo, roughly in the center.  Finally the koudou at the north end, built into the roofed gallery.  The modern Yakushiji, a UNESCO world heritage site, maintains one of the pagodas from 730.  Other buildings have been lost and rebuilt over the years.  Today, the covered gallery only goes around half of the compound.  This temple would be important, but mostly in the period following the current reign. This period of the four Great Temples perhaps gives us some insight into the relationship between Buddhism and the State.  Early on, Buddhism was the province largely of the Soga family, and Soga no Umako was apparently the most powerful figure of his day.  He founded Asukadera, and early temples weree founded by Soga or their associates, including Prince Umayado.  McCallum points out that the National Temples, however, were, with one exception, founded by sovereigns.  Kudara Ohodera was the first, Kawaradera was likely founded for Takara Hime, and Yakushiji was founded for Queen Uno.  The only one of the four that wasn't expressly founded on a sovereign's order was that of Asukadera, the temple by Soga no Umako.  This may explain why it was both included and excluded as a national temple in the Chronicles.  After all, there is no doubting its importance, but the narrative of a single, strong, royal house is somewhat impeded by the idea that one of those temples was founded by what was, for all of his power and authority, a private individual.  Ultimately they didn't include it in the edict and yet still acknowledged it as one of the Great Temples. McCallum also points out that these four may not have been fixed quite so early on.  For example, on the matter of Houryuuji—there is a bronze plaque that mentions an "Ikaruga no Ohodera", suggesting that the Ikaruga Temple—that is to say Houryuuji, founded on the estates of Prince Umayado—was at one time granted that title.  Of course, there are questions as to the exact date of the inscription, and whether or not they meant "Ohodera" in the later sense of a national temple or simply in the sense that it was large; and the term may have meant something else, earlier on. The roster of official temples, the Tsukasa no Tera or Kanji, would grow over time, but that is something for a later period.  It is worth noting, though, that the Chronicles at this point seem to distinguish between three types or levels of temples at this time, based on other edicts that we see.  There is also the matter of temple names. The first edict is from the 5th day of the 4th lunar month of 679, six years into Ohoama's reign.  The declaration states that the court would consider the history of any temple with sustenance fiefs and add or remove them as appropriate.  This suggests that there were temples with sustenance fiefs—that is, that had stipends based on lands whose official output went to their upkeep—and temples without such fiefs.  The latter were likely more local temples, likely funded by local elites, possibly out of actual devotion, or an attempt to gain the power that Buddhism presumably brought, or possibly just in emulation of the central court, much as the peripheral elites had also constructed the keyhole shaped kofun.  Along with the adjustments of stipends, we are also told that the administration quote-unquote "fixed" the names of the temples. This again goes to the government's control of the temples and Buddhism.  McCallum suggests that what is meant here is that they moved away from locative names to Buddhist names for the temple; up to this point, temple names appear to be about the location of the temple.  So we have Asuka dera, or Asuka Temple, built in Asuka.  Kudara Ohodera is Kudara Great Temple because it was by the Kudara river and the Kudara palace.  When it was moved to Takechi, they changed the name to Takechi temple.  Kawaradera was at Kawara, while the temple we know as Houryuuji was known at the time as Ikaruga Temple—or possibly Ikaruga Great Temple.  But later these temples would be known by their Buddhist names, so Asukadera is Houkouji.  Kudara Ohodera becomes Daikandaiji—and in fact, it is after this point that we see Daikandaiji in the narrative.  Ikaruga dera—though not one of the yondaiji, or four Great Temples—becomes Horyuuji.  I'm not quite so sure about Kawaradera, but Yakushiji, which is founded after this decree, comes to us with a Buddhist name rather than just the name of a location. This change in name likely simplified, somewhat, the concept of moving, or transferring the temples.  Rather than establishing a brand new temple with new administration and everything, they could build a new temple, but grant it the name and rights of the old temple.  The old temple grounds could still be used and occupied—it was still *a* temple, but it was no longer *the* temple, at least for official purposes.  It would be strange, however, to move the Asuka Temple up to the area of modern Nara city and still call it the Asuka Temple. The year after reassessing the stipends and fixing the names of the temples we get the edict about the 2 or 3 national temples.  And we've mostly discussed that, but here I would just point out that it does add a third distinction to the types of temples.  So we have temples with no stipends, temples with stipends—but they would only last for 30 years total after which they were expected to find new sources of funding—and the national temples, which would presumably receive funding through the government in perpetuity—or until the court changed its mind. So why do we care about any of this?  Obviously Buddhism has had a huge impact on Japanese culture.  However, this isn't just about the religion as an idea, but about the institutions.  These temples—especially these great temples—contained a fair amount of wealth.   It wasn't just the golden images, or the elaborate amount of work and materials that went into the creation of the buildings.  There was also the sustenance-fiefs that were paying for the upkeep.  These temples were also being managed by formal government administrators.  They also performed rituals that the court relied on.  Association with these temples was no doubt important.  Later we see princes and other members of high status families taking high ranking positions, and the temples ended up cultivating their own power.  Over time, the power of various Buddhist institutions would grow,  often challenging or even rivaling the power of the court itself. There are a few other items from this reign that we see related to these temples and Buddhism, more generally.  In 677 we see a Buddhist festival at Asukadera, where the entire canon was apparently reda out.  The sovereign himself showed up and did obeisance to the Three Precious Things—an interesting bit of religious piety and humility.   At the same time, he had all of the Princes and Ministers find one person each to renounce the world and become a monk or nun—both men and women were chosen, without apparent distinction.  We are also assured that they all did so of their own volition, and weren't forced.  In 679, we see a regulation on the clothing of priests and nuns, as well as the men and horses who  accompanied them when they traveled.  If priests are going around with a full on noble retinue, well, that probably says something about the status of priests—at least the abbots and heads of these institutions. 680 – A fire breaks out at the nunnery at Tachibana temple.  Tachibanadera is situated south of Kawaradera, and similar to that temple, it seems to have previously been the site of a royal palace and also isn't recorded as being founded in the Nihon Shoki—it appears fully formed in this record.  Tachibanadera's own records seem to suggest that it was founded in 606, and claims a founding by Shotoku Taishi.  It is also said to be the site of the palace where Shotoku Taishi was born to his mother, Princess Anahobe no Hashibito, consort of Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Yomei Tennou.  Shotoku Taishi is also the subject of the primary image of Tachibana temple, today.  Although Tachibanadera wasn't one of the Four Great Temples, it was likely connected to one—Kawaradera.  Not only was it built on the same north-south axis as Kawaradera, but some of the tiles are similar to Kawaradera's founding tiles.  The layout was similar to Yamada-dera or Shitennouji, with the pagoda, kondou, and kooudou, all in a single north-south orientation.  It is possible that Kawaradera was a monastery for male monks while Tachibanadera may have been the complementary nunnery for female initiates.  680 had a lot going on.  In the 10th lunar month, the sovereign handed out alms to monks and nuns—silk and cloth.  A month later, Ohoama vowed Yakushiji in hopes that it would help his wife, Queen Uno, who was unwell.  He also granted a general amnesty, likely to just add further merit.  Apparently it was successful, as she would go on to live for quite some time after that, even helping to take the reins of government when Ohoama himself fell ill. In 682, Princess Hidaka fell ill.  190 people, both men and women, were pardoned for capital or lesser crimes, in an attempt to make merit, and the following day we are told that over 140 people renounced the world at Daikandaiji—likely on the Princess's behalf. The year after that, 683, we see the sovereign making appointments to the official buddhist offices of Soujou, Soudzu, and Risshi—Doctors of the Law.  This was probably a somewhat regular occurrence, though this is the first time we see the Risshi, it seems.  The mention here is apparently due to the admonition given that "Those who control the monks and nuns should act according to the law."  Definitely seems to be something there—perhaps a reason as to why the Soujou and Soudzu were being appointed.  But the Nihon Shoki doesn't give us a lot more to go on other than speculation. Later that same year, in the 7th lunar month, we see priests and nuns gathered at the palace for the first ever ango, or retreat.  An ango is where priests and nuns of different temples are brought together.  The term refers to a practice said to come from the time of Shakyamuni, before there were temples.  Shakyamuni's acolytes, who spent much of the year wandering, would return to one place during the rainy season. At that time they would listen and discuss Shakyamuni's teachings.  In some sects, this practice of coming together would be particularly important, and it was a mark of honor for how many retreats a monk might have attended over the years. In 685, the court promoted Buddhism with an edict requiring every household to maintain a Buddhist altar, with a statue of the Buddha and a copy of a sutra inside.  It is unclear to me if this was just for merit-making or what, but it must have been somewhat lucrative for the various temples, who would have likely been the source for said sutras, and, at least peripherally, the statues as well.  Later that year, in the 4th lunar month, there was another ango at the palace.  The month after that, Ohoama went to Asukadera and presented precious objects and worshipped.  In the 8th lunar month Ohoama went to Joudouji – Aston claims this is Asukadera, also known as Houkouji—and the next day he visited Kawaradera and provided rice to the monks there.  One month after that, Ohoama was feeling ill, so the court ordered Daikandaiji, Kawaradera, and Asukadera—the three Great Temples that were fully operational at that point—to chant sutras for his sake.  In return they were granted various quantities of rice. Ohoama recovered for a time, but it was perhaps a precursor of what was to come.  A month later a monk from Baekje and a lay monk were sent out to seek a medicinal herb known as white okera.  Today, a similar compound is known in Chinese traditional medicine as Bái Zhú.  A few months later Ohoama went to the medicinal herb garden of Shiranishiki, and a few weeks later he was presented with Bai Zhu, the boiled white okera.   That same day, ritualists performed the Chikonsai, the "Calling of the Spirit".  All of this seems to indicate the early onset of symptoms that may have been temporarily abated, but likely were part of the disease or illness that would eventually take his life. But we covered most of that last episode, and we are already dragging on longer than I expected, so I think I'm going to end it here.  Coming up in the narrative, since I started to mention it, I'll probably take a look next at the founding of the new capital of Fujiwara kyo, and what that would mean, along with other initiatives that would outlive Ohoama. Until then if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

Bentornati su "FRAGRANZE" un podcast che racconta storie di vita quotidiana di chi, grazie al Buddismo, è riuscito a trasformare la propria vita e a farla fiorire.Come si costruisce una felicità autentica?È naturale pensare che derivi dal raggiungimento dei nostri obiettivi: successo, riconoscimenti, gratificazioni. Ma cosa succede quando otteniamo tutto quello per cui abbiamo lottato e scopriamo che non basta? In questa puntata seguiamo il percorso di Ugo, batterista professionista che ha suonato con artisti come Litfiba e Bandabardò, vivendo l'adrenalina dei grandi palcoscenici. Attraverso la pratica del Buddismo di Nichiren Ugo impara a riconoscere le proprie tendenze più profonde e a trasformare il veleno in medicina. La sua storia attraversa il karma, la responsabilità, la battaglia quotidiana contro sé stessi, fino alla scoperta di una nuova dimensione professionale. Una testimonianza su cosa significa vincere ogni giorno per costruire una felicità che non dipende dalle circostanze esterne.Buon ascolto e… fate sentire la vostra fragranza!

MahaPariNirvana Part 53. On the Parable of the Moon. Like the Birds parable, here Shakyamuni uses the perception of the Moon from the vantage of humans on the Earth and our various labels and descriptions for waning and waxing phases of the Moon; all the while the Moon simply is and remains unchanged in orbit. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon How to use this study resource : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suIQ89Nc3BU Buddhism resources : http://threefoldlotus.com www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon www.cafepress.com/shop/gohonzon/products PayPal.me/sifusylvain Patreon.com/TLK https://www.podbean.com/eas/pb-yyerv-190dbb9 https://bsky.app/profile/sifusylvain.bsky.social

MahaPariNirvana Part 50. Our effective practice and propagation is a result of great attention to our use of language in transmitting correctly the teachings of Shakyamuni and Nichiren. Is our attitude and intent pure, honest, true? “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon

How long does it take? How do we know? Shakyamuni breaks down the reality of human mind and practice; the way information is twisted and disseminated with false views; and finally realization. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon

MahaPariNirvana Part 47. Shakyamuni digs into the difference of potential and the expression of potential. He uses the analogies of butter, milk, cream and ghee to illustrate potential within all beings and the need for a process to express the potential, Buddhahood. That potential already “exists” within the human being, but can only be expressed through the process of the practice. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon

This segment is excerpted from the introduction to a yet-to-be-published manuscript of selected podcasts from 2020 forward. The working title is "Speaking with One (Zen) Voice," the "Zen" in parentheses, subtitled "25 Centuries of Buddha-Dharma; 3Countries of Origin; 9 Dharma Masters; 2 Dozen Teachings; with Commentary by an American Zen Elder." Selections from the text are posted monthly as our new Substack column, along with my paraphrases of traditional teachings, beginning with Buddha's "First Sermon," otherwise known as "Setting in Motion the Wheel of the Law," or, more simply, "The Four Noble Truths." Check it out. This volume represents an attempt to present Buddhist teachings selected from the vast canon of sutras (indicating direct testimony) and shastras (connoting indirect commentary) spanning some 2500 years, a quarter of a millennium, from three of Buddhism's countries and cultures of origin — India, China, and Japan. According to scholars, the early talks delivered by Buddha himself to his followers were not written down until several centuries after his death, but were preserved through the oral tradition of chanting and memorizing his spoken teachings. But the accuracy of that transmission is not considered inferior to the later written records, for one reason that it is more difficult to change the content of an oral tradition than it is to modify written documents, either intentionally, by accident, or the ravages of time. Another reason is that the truths of Buddhism and Zen are to be discovered in one's own experience, primarily via the practice of the same meditation process that led to Buddha's insight. Buddhism is, perhaps, unique amongst the Major Religions of the world, in this, its tradition of “face-to-face transmission.” Each of Buddha's Dharma heirs — from those who were exposed to his live dialogs in India, to those who propagated Zen practice and teachings in foreign lands, and the ancestors of those countries — were themselves beneficiaries of direct insight. Of course, the further we go back in time, the provenance or historicity of the canon is less certain, the record from China is more documented than that of India, and that of Japan even more so, as we approach modern times. Most of the selected pieces from these later periods of the evolution of the canon are derived from the liturgy of Soto Zen, verses that are recited in monasteries and temples of today. Speaking with one voiceThe point in surveying this collection, which is merely the tip of a massive iceberg — the Pali canon, Tripitaka, or “three baskets” alone is said to comprise some 84,000 teachings — is that these great Zen forefathers were all speaking with one voice. The written texts selected by Zen's ancestors in China and Japan to be recited on a daily basis as liturgy were obviously not casual or arbitrary choices. They come at the central truth of Buddha's message from differing cultural and linguistic contexts, of course, but if we read between the lines, we might get a glimmer of the existential and experiential reality to which they refer, as so many fingers to the same moon. Let us first consider some of the underlying premises of the teachings of the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni (“sage of the Shakya clan”), which differentiate his from other teachings of a philosophical or religious nature. Let it be understood from the beginning, however, that the worldview of Buddhism — and Zen in particular — places emphasis on overarching sameness, rather than petty differences, between people, and sentient beings in general. This inclusive attitude also applies to the other worldviews, belief systems, philosophies, and religions propounded by humankind. We who follow Buddha's Way are not interested in proselytizing or converting, debating, or winning anyone over to our point of view by argument, nor in discrediting another's viewpoint. As to any perceived difference between Zen and Buddhism, you are free to substitute one term for the other where mentioned in the following. Three key distinctions where the Buddha's teaching, usually referred to as “buddha-dharma,” or more simply, “Dharma,” differs substantively: One: It is human-centered. Unlike other spiritual founders, the Buddha claimed no mandate from a god, a deity, or power outside himself; no “Wizard of Oz” behind the curtain preaching his message, other than his teachers in past lives, the so-called “prehistoric” Buddhas. Zen is all about humanity, and our place in the universe. And, for that matter, the place of all sentient beings, on the path to awakening. According to mythical tradition, the newborn baby Buddha declared: “Above the heavens and below the heavens, I alone am the most honored one!” as he sprung forth, fully formed, from his mother's womb. This expression, while clearly legendary, capsulizes Buddha's view of humanity's unique position in the scheme of things, as represented by his human birth. In today's societal context, this might be interpreted as a form of “secular humanism,” a limited, egocentric, or anthropocentric, perspective. On the other hand, to claim exclusive divine guidance, when the audience consists of other human beings like yourself would seem the more egocentric, closer to the height of arrogance. Think of all the things this leads to. Those claiming a direct mandate from God feel compelled to proselytize, to save all other beings, which is, ironically, the Bodhisattva Vow of Buddhism. But if the unsaved do not seek out the message themselves, the apostles bringing the gospel appear to disrespect and demean the innate spirituality of those they would save. Claiming to be already blessed, or saved themselves, they feel uniquely qualified to save others. One stunning difference here is Buddha's decision to attempt to teach his great discovery to others, based only on his own experience. This must have required great confidence and resolve, in that his authority to teach was not based on an established lineage, outside intervention of some “greater being,” nor on a previously existing canon or belief system. There was no directive from on high to go forth and spread the good news. So why do it? The urge to share the “compassionate teachings” stems from “suffering with” — the very definition of compassion. No one, not even Buddha, can save another. Zen's message and method of meditation offers a way to release oneself from one's own ignorance. Two: It is self-reliant. Buddha's teaching emphasizes self-reliance, individual responsibility and initiative. It is the ultimate in do-it-yourself. He teaches no-reliance on anything outside the self. We cannot rely on scripture, on beliefs, on somebody else to do this for us. This is where what is called “Great Doubt” arises. If we can't rely on anything outside ourselves, everything we've always relied upon is now called into question. If we begin to doubt everything that we've always felt to be dependable and sure, we come to an experience akin to that which people in earthquake or mudslide zones are said to undergo. Suddenly one day, the earth trembles, falls apart, opens up fissures and nearly swallows them up. What they always depended upon as “terra firma,” solid earth, turns extremely fluid, not at all stable.. Similarly, what Buddha points to can be as unnerving, but on a spiritual level, sometimes described as something like the earth “trembling in six dimensions,” meaning the Six Senses. When doubt — including doubt in the dharma — becomes such that we feel as if we are “perched atop a 100-foot pole,” and we step off. It is like vertigo on steroids. “No toe-hold”— nothing to hold on to, nothing to cling to. With his emphasis on self-reliance, individual responsibility, and initiative, taking this on for ourselves, by his own example, Buddha established the tradition of awakening without a teacher. We can learn from living, true teachers, those who have personal insight, yes, we can rely on them not to mislead us but after their death, we have only the teachings, which we can rely on, because they hold true, anywhere and anywhen in spacetime. Three: It has nothing hidden.In Buddha's teaching there is nothing hidden, nothing held back — no inner secret, something the teacher has up his or her sleeve, that the student has to try to get. Dharma is ubiquitous, and self-apparent. As Master Dogen said, “Now when you trace the source of the Way, you find that it is universal and absolute.” There isn't anywhere or any time that Dharma is not present. In the most ordinary, common, everyday thing that you go through, this teaching is manifest in that activity and in that experience. All things are manifesting buddha-dharma "without ceasing for a moment," another trope from Dogen. Recapping these three aspects: First, Buddha-dharma is humancentric, based on our consciousness, on our human birth and being. We are able to have this awakening experience without reliance on a savior, without reliance on a god. Buddha never positioned himself as a savior, never claimed a mandate from an outside force or God. To that degree Zen is a secular religion, so to say. Second, Dharma is do-it-yourself. An attitude of absolute respect, honoring the innate buddha-nature of ourselves and others. We all have the capability of doing exactly what Buddha did, waking up completely. This is one meaning of the buddhist bow. When we bow to each other palm-to-palm, it expresses a recognition of our innate spirituality: “I recognize your Buddha-nature, same as mine.” Third, Dharma has nothing hidden in it. It is openly available and accessible to everybody. These teachings are not for the “inner circle.” There is no “us and them” in the Buddhist community, or Sangha. These three things are distinguishing hallmarks of the Buddha's Dharma. Buddha's original teachings must have been influenced to some extent by his cultural context. The caste system, and presumably a proto-Hindu religion, of India of that time, as well as the contemporaneous state of the art of science, surely shaped the syntax as well as his referential vocabulary. Shakyamuni had to teach within his milieu, and his teaching went against the grain of entrenched conventional belief systems. He knew that his message would be unpopular, swimming upstream, against the prevalent cultural currents and current beliefs. Similar for our times Recognizing that no teacher taught “Buddhism” to Siddhartha Gotama — he alone started all the trouble, as someone once said — we hold him in great reverence. He is not a figure of worship, and not regarded as a personal savior, in the sense that Christians regard Jesus Christ. Buddha was not a Buddhist, after all, any more than Christ was a Christian. But he is more than a “saint” of Buddhism, of which Zen has many, its lineage Ancestors. He is the Founder of Zen, its progenitor. We all have to reinvent Zen. Its teachings, or Dharma, cannot simply be layered over the everyday dilemmas of living in this day and age. They must instead be understood, so that in adapting them to our own lives, we may integrate them fully. This does not mean that we need to modify Zen, however. Zen is always contemporary, and its relevance is revealed in its meditation, or zazen.

nter den zahlreichen Schülern von Buddha Shakyamuni galt Maudgalyayana (Moggalana) als derjenige mit den größten übernatürlichen Fähigkeiten. Als er einmal Shakyamunis Vorträgen lauschte, bemerkte er, dass auch Wesen in anderen Dimensionen zuhörten. Beeindruckt von der heiligen Szene wollte er in Erfahrung bringen, bis zu welcher Entfernung Wesen in den Himmelskörpern die Vorträge von Shakyamuni hören konnten... https://de.minghui.org/html/articles/2025/8/13/186707.html

Closing chapter 8, we find the final refrain from Shakyamuni to be diligent in our mental efforts to grasp the meaning and intent in the stories and lessons of the teachings. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon How to use this study resource : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suIQ89Nc3BU Buddhism resources : http://threefoldlotus.com www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon www.cafepress.com/shop/gohonzon/products PayPal.me/sifusylvain Patreon.com/TLK https://www.podbean.com/eas/pb-yyerv-190dbb9 https://bsky.app/profile/sifusylvain.bsky.social

Attitude. Intent. Shakyamuni's words resonate through Nichiren. Our practice is our guide, “...follow the Law, not the Person”, allowing no others in thought word or deed to impede our sharing and practice of the Mahayana and our praise for all those who seek the path of the Lotus. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon

Resolve. Steadfastness. Shakyamuni's words resonate through Nichiren. Our practice is our guide, “...follow the Law, not the Person”, allowing no others in thought word or deed to impede our sharing and practice of the Mahayana. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon

In this third installment of my "DharmaByte" column and "UnMind" podcast, exploring the general subject of Zen in our Times, we turn to the last of three suggested topics from Hokai Jeff Harper, Halifax-based publisher of the STO newsletter: • To everything there is a season• The wax and wane of householder zazen practice• What we are feeling right now IS impermanence manifesting itself Hokai somehow managed, perhaps unintentionally, to progressively home in on the central experience of Zen on three levels. Starting with the most universal sphere of our experience on Earth, the seasonality that is an effect of orbiting the sun for approximately 365 rotations of the planet; then down to the social sphere of our practice as householders; and finally into the realm of the intimate, up-close-and-personal sphere of consciousness itself. What I call the "singularity of Zen." As I mentioned in the last segment, we often seem to labor under a misconception that because we follow the lifestyle of householders, we cannot hope to penetrate to the fundamental meaning of the teachings of Buddhism. But Hokai's assertion puts the lie to this assumption. If the Dharma is simply pointing at the present reality that we are experiencing, lifestyle choices cannot possibly have a determinative or dispositive, causal relationship in terms of coming to realization of our buddha mind. What we are feeling now is impermanence manifesting itself, to quote the above quote. Not only what we are feeling now, but what we are seeing and hearing, smelling and tasting, as well as what we are thinking. Or reading, if you are reading this rather than listening to the podcast version. You might quibble with Hokai's construction - "impermanence manifesting itself" - as it suggests that "impermanence" is some sort of independent force capable of manifesting itself, rather than an attribute of the changing nature of the universe. But let's not let mere semantics distract from the message. We are witnessing the "endless, unremitting, unnamable, unthinkable buddha-dharma," as Master Dogen expressed it; and we bear witness to IT mainly through the dynamic of change, or impermanence. Otherwise, we would not register seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, or even thinking, at all. If nothing were changing, there could be no awareness of it. As I mentioned in the segment on householder practice, renunciation in Zen is a matter of seeing through the delusional aspect of living, not a matter of lifestyle. Discernment in Zen is like Sri Ramakrishna's analogy that, like a swan, we need to be able to drink milk mixed with water, and drink only the milk. Or as Master Tozan analogized: A silver bowl filled with snow A heron hidden in the moonTaken as similar, they are not the sameNot distinguished, their places are known So this refined awareness of the nondual nature of reality, termed "emptiness," as opposed to "form" or appearance, is so close to ordinary reality, or perceptual duality, that it is nearly indistinguishable — like white snow in a silver bowl, or a white heron and the full moon — white on white. Buddha taught that the discriminating mind imposes a "false stillness" on reality, tamping down the uninhibited flow of sensory data to a dull roar. This enables us to maintain our balance and negotiate a dynamic, 4-dimensional spacetime environment.This is part of the natural process of "individuation" that sets in once we are born, and culminates in the conception of the independent self, which is a fundamental category error, according to Buddhism. The original alienation that is our fall from grace. It is not that Buddhism claims there is no self whatever. There is a constructed self, and there is a true self, according to this model. The prevalent perception of separation as an incarnated being is not entirely delusional. But it is incomplete — reification of a separate self ignores the rest of the story, the fact that all beings are interconnected, co-arisen and co-dependent. The Twelvefold Chain of Interdependent Arising, attributed to Shakyamuni, parses this coming-of-age story, slicing and dicing stages of development finely, like an Italian chef shaving garlic with a razorblade. This is similar to Master Dogen's fine discernment of reality — from a perspective uniting space, or existence, and time — as articulated in Uji—Being-Time, explored in some detail in a prior podcast. What he referred to as the "fine mind of Nirvana," or the "subtle mind of Nirvana." Master Sengcan, third Chinese patriarch after Bodhidharma and his successor Huike, points to something similar in Hsinhsinming—Trust in Mind: In this world of Suchness there is neither self nor other-than-selfTo come into harmony with this realityJust simply say when doubt arises: "not two"In this "not two" nothing is separate nothing is excludedNo matter when or where Enlightenment means entering this truthAnd this truth is beyond extension or diminution in time or spaceIn it a single thought is ten thousand years Believing in the fundamental bifurcation of consciousness into self-and-other, body versus mind — the "Cartesian error" — is resolved in realizing that "you can't have one without the other," or as the more contemporary trope would have it, "both things can be true at the same time." "Neither-self-nor-other-than-self" indicates the True Self of Buddhism, undivided from the very beginning. "Not-two" is the mantra we conjure whenever any doubt about this arises. At the risk of repeating myself — with the caveat that these teachings bear repetition, especially in changing contexts — the last stanza returns us to the singularity of Zen: No matter when or whereEnlightenment means entering this truthAnd this truth is beyond extension or diminution in time or spaceIn it a single thought is ten thousand years The last line of which Matsuoka-roshi would encapsulate as "The eternal moment." So it all comes down to this. Like a fish-trap, reality ensnares us in its wide reach, and as we pursue our own realization — which, after all, is, or should be, our birthright — we find the trap narrowing again and again, until there is no escape, no turning back; like the exhausted swimmer at the halfway point, it is just as far, and equally risky, to try to make it back safely to shore as it is to continue swimming to the island. If we persevere, finally finding ourselves on the "other shore," we can see clearly that we have been seeing things all wrong, all along. There never has been a separate self to embody, let alone to defend against all comers, let alone any existential annihilation. In the not-two nonduality of Zen's reality, it was all like a bad dream, one that we essentially made up — with a little help from our friends and family, of course, not to mention the entire world of benighted people who fear death and, consequently, life. This is not to insist that everyone else is wrong about everything, and that only I and my like-minded friends from the enchanted land of Zen have the inside track. In one sense, it must be true that everyone has a hunch about this — an inkling that something is missing — and that that something is worth knowing. Otherwise we would probably all commit mass suicide, in despair. Which is exactly what it looks like we are doing, with an assist from the stewards, elected or not, of our commonweal. Can anyone say "lemmings"? But Buddhism never seemed to show much concern about the survival of the species. Celibacy is the quickest way to bring down the curtain on humanity - simply not giving birth to the next generation. Of course, the coterie of those who abjure bearing children is not likely to ever encompass a majority of the population, so that kind of extinction is not going to happen. No, it is more likely that Mother Nature's balancing act will bring about the demise of humanity owing to our disruption of her sphere of influence, so carefully nurtured to bring the miracle of life to the planet in the first place, as the goddess Gaia: In Greek mythology, Gaia is the personification of the Earth and a primordial goddess, one of the first deities to emerge from Chaos. She is often referred to as Mother Earth and is considered the mother of all life. And life itself is "fleeting as an arrow" according to Buddha. What we are feeling in the present is this fleeting moment, our life passing before our very eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body and mind in a vast network of frequencies in polyrhythmic synchrony. Our heartbeat is our metronome, the rise and fall of the breathing our connection to the thin atmospheric blanket embracing the earth. On a personal basis, there is no time to waste in foolish pursuits, as the sage Jianzhi Sengcan reminds us in Hsinhsinming: Waste no time in doubts and arguments that have nothing to do with this A century later, Master Sekito Kisen says it another way, in Sandokai: I respectfully urge you who study the Mysterydo not pass your days and nights in vain So Hokai does us a great service to remind us of the evanescence of spacetime in the personal realm, embedded in our social context as householders, surrounded by the world of Nature both nurturing and threatening us, finally floating in the constancy of the universal. Let Tozan Ryokai have the last word on it, after yet another century, from his Hokyo Zammai: Within causes and conditions time and season it is serene and illuminating
So minute it enters where there is no gap so vast it transcends dimensionA hairsbreadth deviation and you are out of tune It seems that all three of the great Ch'an masters are speaking with one voice, urging us to pay attention. There is not so much to their Buddhism after all, as one sage commented upon the occasion of his insight. So Hokai's assertion that what we are feeling right now IS impermanence manifesting itself is subject to Master Dogen's repeat comment: "All things are like this." Not only what we are feeling right now — but what we are seeing and hearing, smelling and tasting and yes, even what we are thinking right now — is, in one sense, impermanence. It is not only in front of your face, it is also behind your face, penetrating your hearing with no boundary, in and out through your nose and mouth (and other orifices), and enveloping your body outside and inside, clean and clear through your original mind. Tozan says, with stunning nonchalance, earlier in the poem: You are not IT — but in truth IT is you Buddha is attributed with saying something like — that there is impermanence means that there is permanence. And his followers were overjoyed to hear that. What made them so happy? Again recalling Hsinhsinming—Trust in Mind: Change appearing to occur in the empty world we call real —only because of our ignorance So the nondual version of this insight is that IT is both changing and staying the same at the same time. This should bring about a great sigh of relief in all who realize it.

Bentornati su "FRAGRANZE" un podcast che racconta storie di vita quotidiana di chi, grazie al Buddismo, è riuscito a trasformare la propria vita e a farla fiorire.Che cosa significa, davvero, vivere da esseri umani?È una domanda semplice solo in apparenza. In questa puntata seguiamo il percorso profondo di Aleandro, un ragazzo cresciuto in un ambiente segnato dalla rabbia, dalla violenza e da una costante lotta per sopravvivere. Attraverso l'incontro con la pratica buddista della Soka Gakkai, Aleandro riesce a liberarsi dalle maschere imposte dalla paura e a riscoprire una nuova forza: quella della gentilezza, della responsabilità, dell'autenticità.La sua storia ci accompagna in una trasformazione che attraversa il corpo, il cuore, le relazioni familiari e il lavoro, fino a una nuova visione della vita, più ampia e luminosa. Dalla collera alla compassione, dalla reazione alla scelta consapevole: una testimonianza potente su cosa può accadere quando si decide di diventare davvero protagonisti del proprio destino.“Il Budda è una persona che ha sviluppato a pieno la propria umanità.”Buon ascolto e… fate sentire la vostra fragranza!

MahaPariNirvana Part 28. Shakyamuni continues his examples of Buddhaness as experienced consciousness, via the potential inherent in all phenomena to express this state of “being”. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon

(Cloud Mountain Retreat Center) Dispassion, cessation, delusion, Buddhas before Shakyamuni, Piti all night long, sharing merit and metta practice

(Cloud Mountain Retreat Center) Dispassion, cessation, delusion, Buddhas before Shakyamuni, Piti all night long, sharing merit and metta practice

Shakyamuni uses the rhetoric of his dual existence to again drive home the point that all phenomena inherit Tathagata potential. He speaks of himself in the realm of form (human) and in the realm of expressed Tathagata as Buddha. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon

In his way of the use of simile, personages, and Energy Potentials as “places in time”, Shakyamuni speaks of the 3 entities of birth with all inherent consciousnesses including Buddhahood; and his implementation of enlightenment as a gradually revealed entity in the mundane world.

In this dharma talk Sono introduces the important place of spiritual autobiographies in Zen Practice, inspired by Lou Norstrom's Memoirs of an American Zen Pioneer published in 2023. Since Saint Augustine (354-430) famous Confessions, spiritual autobiographies often have a “confessional” theme. This is also the case in the spiritual autobiography Wild Ivory, written by the Zen Rinzai Master, Hakuin (1685-1768). In today's language we would talk about self-disclosure and how self-disclosure can have therapeutic benefits.Sono begins to tell the story of his “Shakyamuni” moment – based upon two traumatic events which occurred in bis life when he was 19 years old.

"Zen in Our Time" and "Connecting the Dots" are themes that I have hit upon for 2025, forming the thread running through (one meaning of "sutra") all of my DharmaByte newsletter columns and online UnMind podcasts this year. Contextualizing the teachings and legacy of Zen in modern times — without throwing the baby out with the bathwater — is key to transmitting Zen's legacy. Connecting the dots in the vast matrix of Dharma — while bridging the gap between 500 BC to 2025 CE in terms of the cultures, causes and conditions — is necessary to foster the evolution of Shakyamuni's Great Vow, from the closing verse of the Lotus Sutra's Lifespan Chapter: I am always thinking: by what means can I cause sentient beings to be able to enter the highest path and quickly attain the Dharma? As in so many aspects of our overloaded society, when contemplating the next column or podcast, the question always arises, "Where do I begin?" I turn to my collaborators — Hokai Jeff Harper, publisher of the newsletter, and Shinjin Larry Little, producer of the podcast — for clarity and inspiration. Jeff responded to my call for suggested topics with an intriguing trio: • To everything there is a season• The wax and wane of householder zazen practice• What we are feeling right now IS impermanence manifesting itself Instead of choosing one over the others, it occurred to me that all three are important. And they are interrelated, in a kind of fish-trap narrowing of focus, from the universal span of spacetime as a causal nexus for humankind; then homing in on the social level, considering the modern householder's vacillation in attempting to pursue what began long ago as a monastic lifestyle; and finally zeroing in on the personal: the intimacy of realization within the immediate flow of reality. I will attempt to treat them in succession over the next three installments, in the context of transmission of Zen's Original Mind. TO EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASONIf you find the 1960s Pete Seeger song popularized by the Byrds running through your brain, you are not alone. If you recollect the poem from Ecclesiastes — which I studied in a unique, small-town high school literature course — you may be hearing echoes of: To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. Or from Tozan Ryokai: Within causes and conditions, time and season, IT is serene and illuminating And finally, from Dogen Zenji: Firewood becomes ash and it does not become firewood again.Yet do not suppose that the ash is future and the firewood past. You should understand that firewood abides in the phenomenal expression of firewood, which fully includes past and future, and is independent of past and future. Ash abides in the phenomenal expression of ash, which fully includes future and past.
 Just as firewood does not become firewood again after it is ash, you do not return to birth after death... Birth is an expression complete this moment; death is an expression complete this moment. They are like winter and spring; you do not call winter the "beginning" of spring, nor summer the "end" of spring. There are many more such incisive and insightful references to time in the literature of Zen, as well as Western thinking, of course, most notably Master Dogen's fascicle titled "Uji," which translates as something like "Being-time," "Existence-time," or "Living time," as Uchiyama-roshi renders it. This 13th Century writing is said to have anticipated the theory of Relativity, Einsteins' prodigious accomplishment, perhaps the most important scientific breakthrough of the 20th Century. But these few recollections from the rich legacy of Zen's written record will suffice for our purposes of connecting some of the dots in Indra's Net, or the modern components of the "Matrix of the Thus-Come One" as described in the Surangama Sutra. Scanning the Biblical poem, it is striking to see so many various activities and reactions to the obligations and behaviors of daily human life listed in equally dispassionate terms, not implying false equivalencies, but for example to blithely assert that there is "a time to kill" and "a time to heal"; "a time of war" and "a time of peace" — in the same breath — is in itself breathtaking, considering the admonition against killing, or murder, found in the Ten Commandments as well as the first Five Grave Precepts of Buddhism. Jumping to Master Tozan, or Dongshan, the founder of Soto Zen in 9th Century China, we find a hint of some resolution of the "whole catastrophe" in his reference to "IT" being "serene and illuminating," regardless of time and season, causes and conditions. This "it" appears in various Buddhist sayings and teachings, as tathata in Sanskrit — the inexpressible; or inmo in Japanese — the ineffable, the essential. These all point to what I analogize as a "singularity of consciouness" that emerges in zazen, where we pass the event horizon of conventional perception — the mind collapsing inward of its own mass — returning to and revealing our Original Mind, merging subject and object, duality and nonduality, in mokurai — the resolution of all apparent dichotomies. Earlier in Tozan's Precious Mirror Samadhi, or Hokyo Zammai, from which the above quote is taken, he magnifies the central place of this "it" in the experiential realm of Zen realization: Although IT is not constructed, IT is not beyond wordsLike facing a precious mirror, form and reflection behold each otherYou are not IT but in truth IT is you Master Dogen's coinage of "the backward step" captures this 180-degree attitude adjustment in the way we usually approach learning, self-improvement, and general development as human beings on the learning curve of reality. "From the very beginning all beings are buddhas," as Hakuin Zenji, 18th Century Rinzai Zen master, poet and artist states in the first line of his famous poem, "Song of Zazen." For every thing there may be a season, but when it comes to the most important thing in Buddhism, there is fundamentally no change — from beginning to middle to end — of this "poor player," life, strutting and fretting his/her hour upon the stage. In another line from Chinese Zen, the third Ancestor in 6th Century China captures this succinctly: Change appearing to occur in the empty world we call realonly because of our ignorance. So, somehow, once again, we are getting it all wrong, backwards. Our recourse is, of course, to get our butts back to the cushion; trust the original mind; take the backward step; and embrace the revolutionary notion that WE are not IT, but in truth IT is US. I cannot resist the urge to close this segment with one of my favorite quotes from the great Master Pogo: We have met the enemy and he is us. It may be a comfort to realize that "mine enemy grows older" as we age. We just have to outlive our enemies, including our own ignorance. Next month we will take up the second suggestion, the waxing and waning of householder zazen practice. Been there, done that.

ZEN IN OUR TIME“Connecting the Dots”Some of you A few may have undergone formal training, in Zen or other meditative traditions, or you may be a relative newcomer to Zen. The objective of this essay is Whatever your experience level, this course should help you sort the wheat from the chaff, to clarify for yourself which teachings of Buddhism are relevant to you, to provide some background on Zen Buddhism, how to integrate Zen practice into your daily life, and the importance of Zen's unique style of meditation, and finally some approaches to integrating Zen practice into your daily life.. My approach to Zen may seem a bit different from others you may be familiar with. The reason for this is NOTE: Applying my professional training in design thinking, which influences how I see the world. To augment more traditional text-based presentations of Zen and buddha-dharma, my training in graphic design, I have charted the basic teachings as 3D structures flattened into 2D charts, available upon request. This illustrates their interrelatedness, providing visual aids and mnemonics to help you visualize and remember them. The graphic models allow further analysis of overlapping and interconnected implications of what otherwise typically appear as linear constructs and literary outlines in the verbal formword. We are literally going to connect the dots to the degree possible.Basics of BuddhismZen NOTE: Applying my training in graphic design, I have charted the basic teachings of Zen as semantic models, 3D structures flattened into 2D charts, for the sake of illustrating their interrelatedness, as well as providing visual aids and mnemonics for you to visualize and remember them. These will also allow you to do further analysis of the overlapping and interconnected implications of what otherwise appear as linear constructs in the written word. Buddhism is both very simple and complex at the same time. As we say in design circles, "simple in concept; difficult in execution." The amount of material available on Buddhism appears virtually endless. I am not a scholar, nor a historian, but it may be helpful to provide some background from the perspective of Zen practice, on the subject as I understand itThe Four Noble TruthsBuddha re-discovered these truths in his meditation and articulatedmeditation them in his "First Sermon.” He unfolds a model of "Four Noble Truths." This quartet constitutes a kind of take-it-or-leave-it description of reality, the causes and conditions of sentient existence, including the Eightfold Path, a thoroughgoing prescription for practice, covering the eight dimensions of leading a Zen life based on meditation. All of the teachings may be seen as corrective descriptions of enlightened realty and prescriptions for taking action based on the enlightened worldview. Buddhism's Four Noble Truths are traditionally translated as the existence of suffering, its origin in craving, the potential of cessation, and the path to follow in daily life, leading to cessation. This begs the question — WhatWhat, exactly, makes them so noble, after all? They can beare ennobling, but only if we embrace them. If we do, : they can enable us to live a life of compassion in the context of inexorable change, or "suffering." The Noble Truths do not change with circumstance. They do not interact with, nor react to, changes in circumstance. The first of the four truths is that this existence — indeed any physical existence — is of the nature of suffering (Skt. dukkha). There is no existence without change, the universal dynamic. Galaxies colliding, the Big Bang — all is dukkha. As human beings, we are caught up in this change, and we tend to take it personally. We suffer not only physically, but also emotionally, mentally, and even socially. The second truth is that most of our suffering is finds its origin in our own attachment and aversion,, craving, or thirst: clinging to the pleasant, and avoiding the unpleasant. Suffering is both natural —, as in aging, sickness and death —, and unnatural or intentional —, as in self-inflicted and mutually-inflicted suffering between human beings, and imposed upon other beings, sentient and insentient. On a personal level, Buddhism embraces suffering, rather than trying to avoid it. The third of the truths offers hopeis that suffering can cease, but only through our embrace of it. The natural processes of aging, sickness and death cannot be avoided no matter how hard we try. They are built into existence itself. UnnecessaryIntentional and unintended suffering can come to an end, however, through relinquishing cessation, or at least lowering,the extent ofof our craving, modifying our craven behavior.The Noble Eightfold PathThe fourth of the quartet posits that there is a way of living daily life as a path to cessation. Theusual interpretation of its eight points begins with worldview, or intention. In time our view evolves toward conformance to that taught by Buddha, through examining our thought, or understanding., "Right" view and thoughtwhich together comprise right wisdom.; Engaging in loving speech, kind action and a compassionate livelihood, add up toor right conduct. E; and engaging effort, mindfulness and meditation, we developas right discipline. The only real discipline in Zen is self-discipline, which applies to lay practice as well as monasticism.Wisdom, conduct and discipline constitute our tripartite path. Fortunately, Zen offers a workaround. The primary focus of Zen is the practice of its highly focused method of meditation (J. zazen), integrating posture, breath and meditationattention, called “zazen” in Japanese. Zazen is like a magnifying glass, an indispensable and instrumental method for focusing attention awareness in an extremely tight awareness on our own direct experience. Which is where the origins of Buddhism arose, from the meditation of Buddha, Shakyamuni. Visualizing the Eightfold Path as a 3-dimenional model of a cube illustrates that these eight components of the three primary divisions — the outer person, or conduct;, the inner person,or discipline;, and the fruit of the practice, the evolution of true wisdom — are all interconnected in complex ways. For example, the intersection of right speech and right action: “You talk the talk, but you do not walk the walk.” Your words do not match your actions. Each pairing of any two of the eight dimensions can be analyzed in such a manner. But the important thing is to be aware of them, and observinge how they affect our lives, and how our manner of living affects them. The Six ParamitasWhen we think of perfecting our practice of any activity, such as playing the piano, or high-performance athletics, naturally we form some sort of goal or expectation that we hope to realize. But the notion of perfection in Zen is not like that. There is an ancient Sanskrit term,from Sanskrit, “paramita,” that is sometimes translated as “perfection.” There are six such, (sometimes expanded to ten,) such in traditional models. — The basic six-pack usually translatessometimes condensed as: generosity or giving;, precepts or (ethics);, energy or or effort;, patience or or forbearance;, meditation, contemplation or concentration;, and wisdom. But in Zen, we instead look to discover their true meaning and application in our meditation. The founder of Soto Zen in 13th Century Japan, Master Eihei Dogen, was said to have commented, paraphrasing: asking In zazen, wwhat Precept (morality) is not fulfilled? In Zen, the perfection of desirable personality traits, and the full comprehension of them, becomes possible only through diligent pursuit of wholehearted meditation practice. My Zen teacher, “sensei” in Japanperese, Soyu Matsuoka-roshi, would often say that we should always aim at the perfect posture in seated meditation, never imagining that we have achieved it. This amounts to “posture paramita.” We engage in a process of perfecting, in lieu of setting goals of perfection. Eventually, with repetition, any endeavor such as practicing the piano, dance moves, sports, or martial arts forms, will reach a turning point, where it becomes truly musical, transcendent, and transformative. Your practice of meditation will likewise naturally go through several turning points in its evolution. Eventually, it will become what my teacher referred to as “the real zazen.” This is when posture, breath and attention all come together in a unified way. Not-two.Zazen: Sitting Still Just Sitting; Still Enough, Straight Enough, For Long EnoughThe focus of Zen is on the present moment, but the activity that is occurring moment by moment is ceaseless, relentless in its changing dynamic. We sit still in order to recover our original mind, in which stillness is not separate from motion. This is one meaning of an ancient Sino-Japanese term, “mokurai”: stillness in motion, motion in stillness. Silence in Zen, to take another example of mokurai,, is not the absence of sound. The silence is in the sound. And vice-versa. Same for stillness and motion. Nonetheless, we emphasize the stillness partsays. It is difficult to slow down, let alone come to a full stop, in today's world. When we do — sitting still enough for long enough — a whole new dimension of reality opens up for us. We enter the original frontier of the mind, discovered by Buddha two-and-a-half millennia ago, and passed on to us by the ancestors of Zen.Concluding the InconclusiveLike most things in life, Zen has to be experienced to be understood, from personal experience. This is one instance of how the highly specialized training in Zen has a halo effect on daily life. If you have become accustomed to the extreme clarity of mind engendered in quiet meditation in the zendo, you will be better equipped to face the chaos in daily life Two aspects of Zen that I have mentionedindicated remain foremost in my mind —- its irreducible simplicity of method, and the importance of finding the right teacher for you. I highly recommend you pursue both with diligence, as if your hair were on fire, as per Master Dogen.

MahaPariNirvana Part 16. “On Long Life” begins with Shakyamuni asking for questions to resolve any and all doubts remaining in the collected students of this congregation prior to his parinirvana. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available in the TLK Bookstore; www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon

MahaPariNirvana Part 12. In this chapter “On Grief”, we may well ask if it is the grief of Shakyamuni that he must bare the unwavering clinging to illusions of the Semblance Dharma in the monks assembled. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm  How to use this study resource :  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suIQ89Nc3BU Buddhism resources : http://threefoldlotus.com    www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon  www.cafepress.com/shop/gohonzon/products PayPal.me/sifusylvain Patreon.com/TLK instagram.com/sylvainchamberlain/

MahaPariNirvana Part 11. Cunda makes his leave, and no sooner do the crowds commence with the whining. How must Shakyamuni get through to them before departing? “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm  How to use this study resource :  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=suIQ89Nc3BU Buddhism resources : http://threefoldlotus.com    www.lulu.com/spotlight/kwoon  www.cafepress.com/shop/gohonzon/products PayPal.me/sifusylvain Patreon.com/TLK instagram.com/sylvainchamberlain/

In Episode 272, I discussed the third chapter of Zen Master Keizan's book The Denkoroku, or the Record of the Transmission of Illumination. In the interest of thoroughness, I figured I'd start back at chapter one, with Shakyamuni Buddha's “I and All Beings.” This text explores the nature of enlightenment and the tension between individuality and non-separation.

====================================================SUSCRIBETEhttps://www.youtube.com/channel/UCNpffyr-7_zP1x1lS89ByaQ?sub_confirmation=1==================================================== DEVOCIÓN MATUTINA PARA MUJERES 2025“AMANECER CON JESÚS”Narrado por: Sirley DelgadilloDesde: Bucaramanga, ColombiaUna cortesía de DR'Ministries y Canaan Seventh-Day Adventist Church===================|| www.drministries.org ||===================12 de EneroSerás lo que debes ser, o si no, no eres nada«¡Anhela mi alma y aún ardientemente desea los atrios de Jehová! ¡Mi corazón y mi carne cantan al Dios vivo!» (Salmos 84: 2).El general San Martín dijo: «Serás lo que debes ser, o si no, no eres nada». Una corta, pero poderosa frase que envía un mensaje profundo y tajante a quienes están recorriendo su camino en la vida. No podemos darnos a medias, o en este caso, no somos nada.Cuenta la escritora Emilia Pardo Bazán (1851-1921) que un conde soñó que se veía paseando en un frondoso bosque, cuando una paloma cayó malherida en las manos del príncipe Shakyamuni. De pronto apareció el cazador para reclamar a su presa con el alegato de que le pertenecía por haberla cazado. El príncipe le rogó que le dejara rescatar al ave; el cazador accedió con la condición de que le diera una porción de su propia carne igual al peso de la paloma.El conde observaba atónito la escena. El cazador quitó un pedazo del hombro derecho del príncipe y lo puso en la balanza, no obstante, esta no se movió ni un centímetro. La paloma pesaba más. El cazador cortó otro pedazo de carne del hombro izquierdo y lo puso en la balanza; sin embargo, siguió sin moverse. Así fue cortando por partes al príncipe, pero aquellos pedazos de muslos y hombros no lograban mover la balanza ni pesar más que la paloma. Entonces el príncipe dijo: ponme completo. Cuando todo su cuerpo desangrado fue puesto sobre la balanza, esta se inclinó hacia el lado opuesto de la paloma. Ahora el príncipe pesaba más que ella y se pudo efectuar el rescate. Emilia escribe al final del relato «hay que darse todo, ¿o no aspirar a redimir».?Ese también fue el lema del cielo. San Juan 3:16 lo afirma. El cielo dio todo; Jesús dio su cuerpo entero para que nuestra redención fuera válida. Él nos rescató de manos del cazador. ¿Habremos de entregarnos a su servicio a medias? ¿Así le pagaremos su rescate?Querida amiga, hoy te invito a cantar: «Mi espíritu, alma y cuerpo, mi ser, mi vida entera, cuál viva santa ofrenda, te entrego a ti, mi Dios». Seamos fieles y enteramente dedicadas a la obra que Jesús nos ha encomendado, o no seremos nada. 

MahaPariNirvana Part 8. Cunda argues with Manjushri on the central point of Shakyamuni's Lotus teaching. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

MahaPariNirvana Part 7. Cunda discovers his Buddha Consciousness and Shakyamuni exhorts him to teach and support all those he can. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

MahaPariNirvana Part 6. Chapter 2 introduces the upasaka Cunda to us for the first time. And with him we begin the long back and forth of many questioners of Shakyamuni to resolve their capacity to understand. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

ADZG 1218 ADZG Sunday Morning Dharma Talk by Douglas Floyd The post Shakyamuni Sees the Morning Star first appeared on Ancient Dragon Zen Gate.

Buddhism Reference – Tripitaka. (the Three baskets) The early transcriptions of Shakyamuni-buddha's teachings in Pali and later Chinese (Agama sutras) represent the two versions of translations of the earliest teachings of Buddhism. “Buddhism Reference” – Now Available Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

With so much to learn about Buddhist history, it can be hard to know where to start! This month, we're doing a short series covering Buddhist history. Today's episode covers the early history of SGI Nichiren Buddhism.Online Articles:The Humanism of The Lotus SutraBuddhist LineageBooks:The Lotus Sutra and Its Opening and Closing SutrasThe Living BuddhaThe Wisdom of the Lotus Sutra SeriesThe Heart of The Lotus SutraReach out to us at connect@buddhability.org to get connected with a Buddhability community near you.

Returning to the twists and turns of the endless, meandering 2024 campaign for POTUS, and looming uncertainty of threatened challenges to the vote promising to bollix up the results, the question arises as to what this may have to do with Zen. The dedicated Zen guy who produces the UnMind podcast suggested that we take up the premise of the “Bodhisattva ideal” in Buddhism, comparing and contrasting behaviors and apparent attitudes of the candidates — and politicians in general — to this lofty ideal and aspiration. Somewhere in the copious Zen literature I came across the proposition that governmental leaders find themselves in positions of power owing to karmic merit accumulated in past lives, apparently whether they know it or not. We can suppose that this quaint notion arose in the context of predominantly Buddhist societies, such as that of Ashoka the Great in India, or in the later empires or principalities in China. It requires quite a stretch of the imagination to interpret our current political situation from that standpoint, though an online meme that one of the candidates is the “chosen of God” is even more ludicrous to contemplate. Looking at the meaning of “Bodhisattva” thorough the eyes of Google, the first hit that comes up is from the University of Washington, Seattle-based home of the Huskies, the first thing that comes up on their homepage. We will defer any consideration of college football as the key branding element of UW, and higher education in general, for a later segment. Their more-or-less traditional definition of the Bodhisattva assumedly comes from their comparative religion department: Bodhisattvas are enlightened beings who have put off entering paradise in order to help others attain enlightenment. There are many different Bodhisattvas, but the most famous in China is Avalokitesvara, known in Chinese as Guanyin. Bodhisattvas are usually depicted as less austere or inward than the Buddha. — https://depts.washington.edu Parsing this definition, I have a few quibbles. We prefer the use of “enlightening” beings as it indicates a process in which all of us comprise a work in progress, whereas “enlightened” indicates a state of completion. No true bodhisattva would ever claim to be enlightened in that sense. In the sense of enlightened self interest and the best interests of others, yes. Then there is the idea of “entering paradise.” The Buddhist term “Nirvana” is not pointing at another dimension or plane of existence, but the true nature of this world in which we find ourselves — so-called “Samsara.” As Master Dogen reminds us, “actually, the Other Shore (of Nirvana) comes to us”; we do not go to it. As Shohaku Okumura-roshi once mentioned, “Everybody says they want to go to Nirvana. But when you go there, there is nobody there. Only bodhisattvas can go to Nirvana, and they choose to stay here. So our charge is to change Samsara into Nirvana.” This is what Dogen means by saying the other shore comes to us. The reference to “many different Bodhisattvas” and the most famous being Avalokitesvara, Guanyin in China, or Kanzeon in Japan, reinforces the notion that bodhisattvas are a special class of beings, outside the kin or ordinary mortals — much like the icons of other religions, such as canonized prophets, saints and saviors, or demigods. My understanding of the Zen ideal is that we are all bodhisattvas, whether we know it or not. And finally, the reference to their relatively diminished austerity seems somewhat overwrought. My reading of the original teachings attributed to Shakyamuni reveal a profound humility and accessibility, and a remarkable empathy for his audience, that any bodhisattva would aspire to emulate. Awakening of the Bodhi mind is concomitant with the Bodhisattva vow — to help all others before reaching the other shore — according to Dogen, who should know. So how do our current carriers of partisan banners stack up against this image? I would suggest that their motivations have little or nothing to do with entering paradise, for one. So in that, they are like bodhisattvas — but focusing their efforts on the present and immediate future of prosperity in the secular sphere — not the spiritual realm. In American politics, and perhaps that of Western countries in general, there is an underlying implication that behavior in the societal sphere is indicative of one's “values,” which tend to land in the ethical, moral, and spiritual column. This may be a vestigial remnant of the puritan ethic that pervaded the early migrants to these shores, the after- effects of which we witness today, including in the performative permutations of partisan politics. But, quoting myself in an earlier UnMind segment, there are brute behaviors of our fellow-travelers in this particular time and space that cannot be excused as politic: When it comes to indiscriminate bombing of civilians and children, we are no longer in the realm of “politics.” If we are silent, we become complicit. Buddha, I believe, would have spoken out against this betrayal of compassion and wisdom. As did Matsuoka Roshi, concerning the corrupt regime in Vietnam, and other atrocities of his time. We can look to the teachings and meditation practice of Zen Buddhism to find a degree of solace and sanctuary from these insults to humanity, but we cannot run, and we cannot hide from them, ultimately. But we do not have to join the partisan divide, either. In the same episode, we provided some historical context by referring to the foundational documents of the Founding Fathers, including the Declaration of Independence, with particular attention to the second section: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. This begins to sound a lot like the Bodhisattva ideal applied to the salvation of others, at least in the secular realm. If we are all equal, we all have equal potential to wake up in the most comprehensive sense, as did Shakyamuni Buddha. We also innately deserve to be treated with the highest degree of respect from our peers. And each and all have equal claim to life — within the realistic constraints of aging, sickness and death; to liberty — in the sense of true liberation from our own ignorance, and the imposition of that of others upon our lives; and the pursuit of true happiness, which does not derive from materialistic sources. Perhaps our political leaders are doing their level best to secure the rights, at least in their secular manifestation. But compare to the Bodhisattva vows, which address serving, or saving all beings, on another scale altogether; two translations give us a better insight into their broader and deeper meaning: Beings are numberless I vow to free themDelusions are inexhaustible I vow to end themDharma gates are boundless I vow to enter themThe Buddha way is unsurpassable I vow to realize it However innumerable all beings are I vow to free them allHowever inexhaustible my delusions are I vow to extinguish them allHowever immeasurable the dharma teachings are I vow to master them allHowever endless the great way I vow to follow it completely I leave it to you to decide whether or not, and to what degree, your candidate for the highest office in the land, the most powerful secular position on Earth, are in harmony with these compassionate aspirations. But remember that the teachings of Buddhism were never meant to be held up to criticize others, but to reflect back upon yourself and your own behavior. The mirror of Zen reflects all — the good, the bad, and the ugly — without discrimination. You and your behavior are also reflected in that Precious Mirror.

When we mention Zen practice these days, we usually mean sitting in Zen meditation, or zazen. It was not always so. In Bodhidharma's time, “practice” meant observing the Precepts in daily life, discerning to what degree our behavior is comporting to their admonitions. If memory serves, this is found in “The Zen Teaching of Bodhidharma” by Bill Porter, AKA Red Pine. Similarly, when we speak of studying the Dharma, we typically mean reading the written record. It was not always so. When Buddha was alive, the teachings were spoken. You literally had to go listen to live lectures and, later, memorized recitation, to hear the Dharma. This was apparently true of all teachings of all sects at that time; the oral tradition prevailed. It was some four centuries after the Buddha's death, when his utterances were first committed to written form. With the advent of the Internet we have many more opportunities to “hear the true dharma” — a Dogen coinage with a deeper meaning — as expounded by others in the form of podcasts such as UnMind, audiobooks and other modern marvels. But we have to call into question whether we are hearing the Dharma truly. Whether the meaning we extract from listening to the efforts of others to express this subtle and inconceivable teaching is anywhere near to the original meaning that the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, intended, or for that matter that of any of his many successors in India, China, Korea and Japan, and the other countries of origin. I am not suggesting that we engage in a scholarly examination of the provenance and evolution of the Three Baskets — or Tripitaka in Sanskrit. I propose that we are challenged to attempt to render the meaning in the modern idiom, which involves extracting them from their original cultural context, and embedding them in ours, as well as expressing them in the vernacular, including the language of modern science and philosophy. For one thing, this means divesting the ancient liturgical passages of jargon — primarily the obscure and seemingly mystical terms, mostly from Sanskrit — such as “samadhi” for example — that some contemporary writers seem prone to sprinkle liberally throughout their publications. The downside to this tendency is that it creates an impression that the author actually knows what these terms mean, whether you, dear listener,understand them or not. Another consideration is what is called the “theory-laden” aspect of the semantics of language, as well as our interpretation of direct perception. This conditions the impact that Zen masters' behavior, as well as that of their “turning words” — in Japanese, wato — can have on their students. This concept was introduced to me by George Wrisley georgewrisley.com, a Professor of Philosophy at the University of North Georgia, author of texts on Dogen and Zen, who generously made several technical contributions to my books, “The Original Frontier” and “The Razorblade of Zen.” Professor Wrisley pointed out that, in the now-famous records of Zen students' exchanges with their masters, including extreme gestures they resorted to, in trying to help the student wake up to the reality of Zen — shock tactics such as shouting, and sometimes striking with a fist or staff — each student's reaction to the abuse was entirely dependent upon their belief, or innate “theory,” that the teacher was enlightened, and so could “do no wrong,” to oversimplify the point. Ordinarily, if someone hits you with a stick, your reaction would not be one of profound insight, and undying gratitude for the “grandmotherly kindness” of your abuser. Today it would likely trigger a lawsuit. The ancient ancestors of Zen seem to have an intuitive grasp of the importance of language and its effect on our perception of reality, as indicated in lines from the early Ch'an poems, such as: Darkness merges refined and common wordsBrightness distinguishes clear and murky phrases And: Hearing the words understand the meaningDo not establish standards of your own In Zen, of course, experience comes first, expression a distant second. The interim state, and where we can get it wrong, consists in our interpretation of direct experience, both on the cushion and off. As another ancient Ch'an poem has it: The meaning does not reside in the wordsbut a pivotal moment brings it forth And yet another: Although it is not constructedit is not beyond words Hopefully we have, or will have in future, experienced this pivotal moment. Meanwhile, we are dependent upon words to parse this teaching, and to express it, both to ourselves as well as to others. We can use words to encourage all to go beyond language, and even ordinary perception, in direct experience in zazen. In the face of this design intent of the Dharma, the past efforts to translate it into various languages, and the present effort to paraphrase it into the modern idiom, seem worth the time and trouble. In this spirit, let me share with you my paraphrase of the Prajna Paramita Hridaya Sutra, or Great Heart of Wisdom Teaching, with which, hopefully, you are familiar. This is a work in progress, subject to revision. The typographical layout available on the UnMind podcast page is designed to facilitate scanning and reading the text while chanting it aloud, usually accompanied by drum and gongs. You might follow it with your eyes, while you follow my words with your ears. In this way, you will absorb a multi-sensory experience, which may be more revealing than hearing or reading alone. I will simply recite it here, a capella: ESSENTIAL TEACHING OF PERFECTING WISDOM When any and all Awakening Beingsdeeply and directly experience the process of perfecting wisdom,they clearly see that all five traditional components of sentienceare fundamentally free of permanence and separate self-existence;this insight relieves all unnecessary suffering. Respected seekers of the truth, know that:the apparent form of our world is not separate from its impermanence;impermanence is not separable from appearances;“form,” or particles of matter, is innately “emptiness,” or waves of energy;conversely, emptiness is innately form.All sensations, perceptions, and underlying mental formations,as well as consciousness itself, also manifest as complementary.All existent beings manifest elemental impermanence,imperfection, and insubstantiality:they neither arise nor cease, as they appear to do;they are neither defiled nor pure, but nondual in their nature;they neither increase nor decrease in value or merit.Therefore know that, given the relativity of the material and immaterial,there can be no fixity of form; no tangibility of sensation;no persistence of perception; no infallibility of mental formations;finally, there can be no absolute entity of consciousness.More immediately, the principle of complementarity entails that there can beno eyes, ears, nose, or tongue, as such; and thus, no body;likewise there can be no “mind,” as a separate substance;it follows that, in spite of appearances,there can be no independent functions ofseeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, or touching;nor can there be unconstructed objects of the mind;no independent realm of sight, nor that of any other sense organ;nor any realm of mind-consciousness as a whole. This means that there can be neither ignorance in the absolute sense,nor any extinction of ignorance in the relative sense.Neither can there be sickness, old age and death as absolute states;Nor any extinction of sickness, old age and death as relative states.In light of the implications of this insight,suffering intentionally inflicted upon oneself and / or others can come to an end,stemming as it does from confusion as to root causes;while natural suffering such as aging, sickness, and death cannot end. Thus there can be no isolated “path” leading to cessation of suffering;there can be no essential “knowledge” to gain, in any conclusive sense;and no “attainment,” of any consequential kind. Since there is nothing to attain,all Awakening Beings rely totally on simply perfecting their wisdom;their body-mind drops away, functioning fully with no further hindrances; with no dualistic hindrances, no root of fear is to be found;far beyond confused worldviews,they abide in nondual spiritual liberation. All Awakening Ones of past, present, and futurerely on the perfecting of this deepest wisdom,thereby attaining unsurpassed, complete, insightand letting go of the attainment. Rest assured that perfecting wisdomis the most excellent method;the serene and illuminating discipline; the unsurpassable teaching;the incomparable means of mitigating all suffering;and that this claim is true, not false. We proclaim the transformational perfecting of wisdom: Gone, gone to the other shore; attained the other shore; altogether beyond the other shore, having never left; the other shore comes to us; wisdom perfected! I do not claim to have captured the essence of the original chant. The afore-mentioned Buddhist scholar and Ch'an translator Red Pine, in his modern translation “The Heart Sutra,” tells us that this condensed version of the larger sutra extolling the emptiness of all existence, including the Dharma, was published in China around 900 CE. This was done in order to counter a prevailing trend toward erudition as the indicator of enlightenment, a distortion of the true Dharma that has occurred more than once in history. Another famous example is that of Master Huineng, sixth ancestor in China, who publicly tore up copies of the sutras to make a similar point. Buddha-dharma is manifest in nondual reality as lived, not contained in writing as doctrine. In a future segment of UnMind, we will take up another of my hopeful efforts at paraphrasing the Dharma. Meanwhile I encourage you to try your own hand — or more precisely, your mouth and mind — at putting one of the historical teachings into your own words. You might want to compose your own version of the Precepts, for example. When and if you do so, it may force you to consider the true meaning of these teachings which — through the sheer repetition of chanting them repeatedly over time — begin to sink into our stubborn monkey minds. But the downside of repetition is that they may become rote recitation, in which their deeper meaning and direct relevance to our contemporary lives may be lost. Not to worry, however — combined with the nonverbal silence and deep stillness of zazen, where we can begin to experience the meaning of the expression — we cannot go far wrong.

Didn't you know?

In looking forward and anticipating the future of Zen in America, once again it may behoove us to take a look in the rearview mirror. According to research reported by one of my future lineage successors – in a years-long series of talks he gave on the history of the transmission of Zen – things did not always go swimmingly when the big cheese finally kicked the proverbial bucket, to mix a metaphor or two. The resultant chaos was not quite as bad as that brought on by the “To the strongest!” gambit attributed to Alexander the Great, settling the question through violence rather than voting, an approach that has gained fresh meaning in recent political campaigns. In fact, one might reasonably question the validity of any aging, declining leader naming their own successor in the first place, in the face of diminishing mental acuity and physical vigor. What part of “declining” do we not understand? How many political leaders have we witnessed who hang onto power way beyond what the dictates of the natural process of aging-out would suggest? Matsuoka -roshi was born in November of 1912 and died in November of 1997. He was and is my “root” teacher, in the common parlance of Zen. It is his legacy and lineage that we celebrate during Founder's Month each November, and which I have done all in my power to preserve, protect, and to propagate. Kongo-roshi, or Richard Langlois as I knew him in the 1960s, was O-Sensei's immediate successor at the Zen Buddhist Temple of Chicago (ZBTC). He was born in 1935, but died unexpectedly in 1999, only two years after O-Sensei's parinirvana. This unfortunate turn of events brings to mind the oft-misquoted but always pertinent couplet: The best-laid schemes ‘of mice and men' gang aft a-gley,and lea'e us naught but grief and pain, for promised joy Thank you, Robert Bobby Burns, from his poem “To a Mouse.” This is not to suggest that planning, as such, is totally useless, or generally ineffective, but any succession planning is clearly a special case. In Zen's historical record, the cohort left to pick up the pieces and carry on were comprised of more than one individual, in many cases. It appears there is a common pattern of two or more Zen successors stepping in and divvying up the role previously played by the retiring guiding teacher. They were often of very different personality types, bringing different sets of skills and attitudes to the table, not necessarily the same as their mentor's. This is also common in the business world, when the CEO is replaced by less-experienced executives. It took me a few decades to realize that I am not Matsuoka-roshi, and that my students are certainly not me. I could not simply continue doing my best imitation of Sensei, oblivious to the fact that my students were approaching Zen practice very differently from my own early days. I had to have flexibility of mind to innovate, not just to imitate. Nor can I compare myself to Okumura-roshi – who officiated my formal transmission –with his historical roots in traditional Zen training in Japan. His successor Hoko Karnegis was recently chosen – how and why, I have no idea, and do not need to know. But I do know that she, who generously wrote the foreword to my second book, “The Razorblade of Zen,” is definitely not a Shohaku clone. The character of the community changes with any change in leadership. But its mission and reason for being need not. I recognize that as founder and guiding teacher of ASZC and STO, I am a “transitional figure.” As are we all – in the ultimate, biological sense – given the inevitability of “aging, sickness and death.” Matsuoka-roshi was certainly a transitional figure, becoming a living example of the “man without a country.” He was no longer fully Japanese, nor was he completely American. It should be noted that all truly transitional figures necessarily appear as somewhat ridiculous, in the eyes of their contemporaries. It becomes necessary to embrace certain contradictions, many that are counter-intuitive and counter-cultural. If you don't quite get the point, just picture myself, or yourself, fully enrobed, walking into a Starbuck's. These transitional aspects of grafting a living tradition onto a new host culture can be considered a necessary and temporary period of adjustment. It is going to entail, and even require, independent thinking, as well as Interdependent action. Perhaps more than anything, it will require focus and perseverance, keeping the eye on the prize, or at least on the ball, in light of the many diversions and apparent obstructions in the path. The Ch'an poem Sandokai–Harmony of Sameness and Difference puts it succinctly: Not understanding the Way before your eyes how do you know the path you walk? Buddha himself is said to have recognized the many blind alleys and dead ends that can get in the way of the simple pursuit of the only truth that matters. In “The Teaching of Buddha,” chapter two, “The Way of Practical Attainment” we find the following: 1. in the search for truth there are certain questions that are unimportant. Of what material is the universe constructed? Is the universe eternal? Are there limits or not to the universe? In what way is this human society put together? What is the ideal form of organization for human society? If a man were to postpone his searching and practicing for Enlightenment until such questions were solved, he would die before he found the path. Like his successors in India, as well as those in China, Japan, and the Far East, the clarity of focus comes through loud and clear, in the context of the seductions of the universal, natural and social spheres. The ancestors of Zen are all speaking with one voice, as far as to where we are to direct our personal attention is concerned. Perhaps this singular emphasis – on avoiding the pitfalls and temptations of following cultural memes and tropes as to what is truly important in life – is even more critical in modern times. When we finally join a fully functioning Zen community, we naturally become possessive and protective of it. We worry about its stability, from both fiscal and psychological perspectives. If its leadership appears unstable, we hesitate to invest too much time and effort into participating in it, both from personal practice and social administrative perspectives. These are natural impulses, and rational as well. We have all witnessed too many betrayals of our trust and confidence by misguided leaders of supposed religious and educational institutions, in America and elsewhere. This is why harmony is the main watchword for the Zen community. And the main reason its members are encouraged to be circumspect in discussing the supposed faults of others. But I want to impress upon you a deeper confidence in Zen. Not to worry — Zen will survive. It was here before you were, and it will be here after we are all long gone. Zen has survived, and even thrived, for over two and a half millennia, and that is only the recorded history of it. It surely began long before Buddha's life, and will survive as far into the future as the human species, which, admittedly, is looking a little iffy just now. Zen will survive because it is not “Zen.” Zen is just a name, a label that we throw at something that has no name. This discovery of Buddha, even in our times, is primordial. It is nothing more than “waking up,” in the most universal, deepest and broadest sense of the word. It is awakening to reality. That simple fact may need our protection, from the vicissitudes of current cultural ignorance. But it comes with the territory of being a fully conscious human being. It will not go away with time, as long as humans survive. This is why the definitive dimension of sangha is “harmony.” Fostering disharmony in the Zen community is a cardinal sin. As Master Elvis reminds us, “We can't go on together, with suspicious minds.” The sangha itself is like a cloud – after my dharma name, “Great Cloud” – constantly evaporating and recondensing. If you do not think so, stick around for a while. We have had literally thousands of people come and go over the decades, and sometimes return after decades. That they come and go is no fault of our own, or of theirs. It is merely the manifestation of their life stories, the cloud endlessly evaporating and recondensing. In Matsuoka Roshi's collected talks, “The Kyoksaku” and “Mokurai,” he shares his perspective on the future of Zen, including the meaning of a Zen temple. We are carrying forward his mission of propagating Zen in America, on the premise that he expressed, that Zen is relatively “dead” in Japan; and would find its rebirth in America: A Zen temple is not a debating place — especially about Zen. Zen was never meant to be debated. It was meant to come into your lives to quiet them and for you to live as a Buddha. If you know Zen, your voice will be quiet and your words will be few. Great wisdom does not need many words to express itself. “Those who speak do not necessarily know.” Master Dogen also mentioned of the tendency of individuals to want to express their understanding of Zen to all who will listen, including the local guiding teacher. It is a known issue in history, and one of many such attitudes that have persisted down to today. But if we see it for what it is – the natural desire of a person to have their own understanding of Zen recognized, and their efforts in support of the temple appreciated – this, too, can be accommodated in our ongoing program of propagation, as a teaching or learning moment. Buddha himself was said to have been assailed by an earnest young seeker, who prevailed upon him to answer the “Ten Cosmic Questions” from what passed for the philosophy of the times: how it all began, how it will all end, et cetera. Which Buddha considered hopelessly speculative, somewhat specious, and not at all to the point of addressing the real problem at hand, that of dukkha. The young man insisted that unless Buddha answered, he, the young man, could not accept him as his teacher. Shakyamuni is said to have pointed out to this sincere but presumptive aspirant that he – Buddha, was under no obligation to be his – the young man's, teacher. And he – the young man, was under no obligation to be his – Buddha's, student. We have adopted a similar motto for our practice centers, which was initiated by an early Rinzai pioneer to America, Sokeian-roshi: “Those who come here are welcome; those who leave are not pursued.” We have a similar middle-way approach to donations, first expressed by our initial practice leader of Southwind Sangha, our Wichita affiliate: “No donation required; no donation refused.” All of the above represent variations on the theme of thinking independently and acting interdependently. Sitting in zazen with the Zen community, we are still sitting alone. Any time we sit alone in zazen, we are joining the larger community of Zen practitioners. Somewhere in the world – at any time, day or night – someone is sitting in Zen meditation. We need flexibility of mind to approach Zen practice in this nondual sense, outside of time and space. In the first UnMind segment in June, we will return briefly to our exploration of “election year Zen,” with whatever challenges appear in the campaign in the interim. Until then... just keep sitting.

Continuing with our theme: the importance of independent thought and interdependent action to the future of Zen in America, we must define the design intent of our program in the current context of uncertainty. The accelerating pace of change, including geometrically expanding attractions and distractions in the secular and now digital world, gives our task a certain urgency. As we touched on last time, from Master Dogen's record of live teachings late in his career, Shobogenzo Zuimonki: Even in the secular world, it is said that unity of mind is necessary for the sake of maintaining a household or protecting a castle. If unity is lacking, the house or the castle will eventually fall. Similarly, Honest Abe declared that “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” The great unifying principle underlying Zen, then, is this “unity of mind.” But it begs the question of what precisely we mean, by “mind.” Usually our mind – the “monkey mind” anyway – is anything but unified. It may indeed be unified against all comers; or unified in its stubborn clinging to its own opinion; but it is not unified in the sense that I think Master Dogen meant. And it is not the mind characterized by dependent thinking and codependent action, as in “we are of the same mind,” or “like-minded people.” As in the past, the future of Zen comes down to the transmission of this unified mind, which cannot be transmitted directly. Transmission of the method of unifying the mind – which is one meaning implied in the Japanese word sesshin, an intensive, extended retreat – is where we can focus our attention, and plan the design intent of our process around it. In a present and future world increasingly transformed by digital technology and virtual engagement, we may need to rethink the traditional parameter of face-to-face transmission, honored as the most efficacious pedagogy in the history of Zen. However, when we can meet in a virtual room from virtually anywhere in the world, the face-to-face connection becomes one of interfacing video screens. This option was not available in the history of Zen, to belabor the obvious. Objections to an argument that this kind of transaction may suffice to transmit the Dharma include that the perceived teacher-student environment may be colored by such tinkering as phony backgrounds and visual enhancements of lighting and filters, along with stage-setting and costuming designed to play to the camera. In the context of direct Dharma transmission, these amount to additional layers of delusion heaped upon the underlying distortions of conscious perception and conception built into the monkey mind. What is missing in the virtual world is the rest of the story, what transpires behind the screen – the day-in and day-out mutual observation of behaviors and attitudes under less-than-ideal or challenging circumstances – wherein transactional exchanges of personalities and communication in the real-world dynamic of the teacher and student relationship enables “coming to accord” with the teacher's worldview, which is hopefully “Right View.” In Dogen's Jijuyu Zammai – Self-fulfilling Samadhi, he points out the importance of this relationship and its hoped-for outcome: From the first time you meet a master, without engaging in bowing, incense offering, chanting Buddha's name, repentance or reading scripture, you should just wholeheartedly sit, and thus drop away body and mind. Along with establishing the secondary supporting role of Zen's protocols, rituals, and the written record, he goes on to declare that this “dropping off” of body and mind is tantamount to Buddha's insight, and that it completely transforms your world: When even for a moment you express the Buddha's seal by sitting upright in samadhi, the whole phenomenal world becomes the Buddha's seal and the entire sky turns into enlightenment. Later in the same passage he profiles the transition that occurs when the student becomes the master: Those who receive these water-and-fire benefits spread the Buddha's guidance based on original awakening; because of this, all those who live with you and speak with you will obtain endless buddha virtue, and will unroll widely – inside and outside of the entire universe – the endless, unremitting, unthinkable, unnamable buddha-dharma. The telling phrase is “all those who live with you.” A compelling question for lay householder Zen practitioners today is, Do we need to actually “live with” a teacher, or within a residential community, in order to apprehend the true Dharma? And if so, how do we go about implementing that design intent, within the practical constraints of maintaining a household, holding down a job, and raising a family? Or do we all have to become monastics? In which case, Zen is just another program for a privileged few. Dogen's effusive celebration of awakening to the truth of Buddhism as received wisdom includes – and is implicitly dependent upon – your relationship with your teacher. In Dogen's narrative, he must be referencing his lived experience with Rujing in China. But it raises the question of exceptions to the general rule, such as the example of Shakyamuni himself, or Huineng, Sixth Patriarch in China. The case that one absolutely must have a teacher cannot be made – any more than it can be proven that one absolutely must practice zazen – in order to experience the insight of Zen. In research circles, we hear phrases such as “participant observation” to define this kind of intimate, all-embracing investigation of another person's world and approach to coping with it. The adage about walking a mile in someone else's shoes captures the difficulty of getting far enough beyond ourselves, to be able to truly understand the worldview of someone else. In the martial, plastic and performing arts and crafts, as well as trades, guilds, and other apprentice-journeyman-master modes of learning, we see parallels to that of the Zen master and student, where the craft is transmitted mainly through nonverbal observation, closely following the approach of the trainer until it becomes second-nature to the novice. But in the complex society that we encounter today, the possibility and potential payoff of living together, in order to effect a transmission of mind-to-mind seems more and more a pipe dream of a past reality that may no longer apply, and in fact may never have been the norm. Garnered from such collections as “The Transmission of the Lamp” from Song dynasty China, anecdotes from the millennia-long history of Zen begin to look like a mixed bag of long-term and short-term encounters and exchanges between masters and students, and master to master, as well as between students. The resultant impression is that handing down the Dharma from generation to generation was largely a matter of monastics living in large and small communities, but also hermits living in isolation, being visited by other monks and nuns on pilgrimage, and occasional lively set-tos with lay people, women in particular. Notable exceptions to the monastic model include influential lay practitioners such as Vimalakirti in Buddha's time, and Layman Pang and others later in China and Japan. A line in the seminal Ch'an poem Hsinhsinming says, “For the unified mind in accord with the Way, all self-centered striving ceases.” The operative phrase here might be “in accord with the Way.” The “Way” being the Tao of Taoism. Which is a catchall phrase for the natural order of things, with which we want to come into harmony. This unified mind is the Original Mind, capital O – capital M – which we rediscover in our meditation, after sitting still enough and upright enough, for long enough. So the central focus of our practice in the personal sphere has not changed, and our marching – or sitting – orders remain the same: hie thee to the cushion. With or without a teacher. Secure in the assurance that when the time is ripe, your teacher will appear. In due time, you may even find yourself in the unenviable position of being regarded as a teacher of Zen. Further on in the Shobogenzo Zuimonki, the great founding Master talks about what it takes to herd the cats: 5 — 17There is a proverb, “Unless you are deaf and dumb, you cannot become the head of a family.” In other words, if you do not listen to the slander of others and do not speak ill of others, you will succeed in your own work. Only a person like this is qualified to be the head of a family. Although this is a worldly proverb, we must apply it to our way of life as monks. How do we practice the Way without being disturbed by the slandering remarks of others, and without reacting to the resentment of others, or speaking of the right or wrong of others? Only those who thoroughly devote even their bones and marrow to the practice can do it. Thank you, Dogen, for your candor and real-world practicality. It certainly resonates with my experience. If we read between the lines, we can see that Dogen's life, and that of his monks, was apparently not always as ideally serene and transcendent as we may prefer to imagine. People are people, and were the same hot mess in 13th century Japan as they are today. Maybe even worse. In the next segment we will continue with past as prologue to present, and present as perhaps prescient for the future of Zen. Your comments and response are, as always, welcome and encouraged. You know where to find me.* * *Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

Buddhism Reference – Brahman Conduct. Some translations of the Lotus Sutra continue to use this terminology to discuss the comportment of Bodhisattvas. This term shows up in the very first teachings of Shakyamuni in the Avatamsaka Sutra. E-books - “Buddhism Reference – Now Available   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

TLK Lotus Sutra - part 63 – Meditation on Bodhisattva Universal Virtue. The process of self-realization is delved into as a reminder and coalescing of all Shakyamuni's teachings, crystallized in this lotus Sutra method for focused contemplation, release, and awakening. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra”   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

TLK Lotus Sutra - part 62 – Meditation on Bodhisattva Universal Virtue. In this closing sutra, devices reminiscent of the first of Shakyamuni's teaching of awakening, the Avatamsaka Sutra, emerge as short mental exercise to integrate the personifications of Buddhist characters into our mental cognition and experience of enlightenment. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra”   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

TLK Lotus Sutra - part 59 – Deeds of King Resplendent. Shakyamuni tells a tale of timelessness to recount the filial relationships of leaving the household to pursue a life dedicated to learning and propagation. And as is the form, the story reflects upon the history of comportment and single-mindedness of the present Bodhisattvas. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra”   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

In the last segment of UnMind, we took up the most social of the Three Treasures: Sangha, or community. In this segment, we will continue with our analysis of the design of Dharma study; and in the next, that of Buddha practice, Zen's unique meditation, or zazen. These three constitute the highest values and manifestations of Buddhism in the real world, and the simplest model for the comprehensive nature of living a Zen life. They are regarded as three legs, without any one of which the stool of Zen is unstable. Design intent is reflected in their modus operandi, message, and method, respectively. Dharma study consists in reviewing and contemplating the “compassionate teachings,” the message transmitted by Shakyamuni and the ancestors down to the present day. While they were all, in effect, “speaking with one voice,” nonetheless Dharma ranks second in importance and emphasis, as an adjunct to meditation, just as Sangha comes in third, in providing the harmonious community and conducive environment for Zen. As referenced in Dogen's Jijuyu Zammai – Self-fulfilling Samadhi: Grass, trees and walls bring forth the teaching for all beingsCommon people as well as sages The “walls” are the infrastructure that was built around personal and communal practice in the form of our sitting space at home, grass hut hermitages, and meditation halls of temples, centers, or monasteries. This is the millennia-old design-build activity of the ancestors attested to by the stupas of India and the monasteries of China, Tibet, Japan, and the Far East, the legacy inherited by modern proponents of Zen in the West. Dharma likewise has been codified, collected, and contained in tangible documents, originally in the form of rice paper scrolls, now in books distributed worldwide in hardbound and paperback format. My own two current volumes in print ‑ “The Original Frontier” and “The Razorblade of Zen” ‑ were actually printed and bound in India, the home country of Buddhism They are also, or will soon be, available in electronic form, as eBooks and audiobooks accessible to virtually anyone, anywhere, anytime. It is as if Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion – s/he of the innumerable eyes and ears needed to see and hear the sights and sounds of dukkha in the world, with innumerable arms and hands bringing the tools necessary to help ‑ has come to be manifested globally, in the form of the worldwide network of mobile media. By means of which her ongoing witness to the suffering of the world is also recorded for posterity. Thus, the potential for Dharma to have an effect on the world at large has expanded exponentially, as in the vow: “I take refuge in Dharma, the compassionate teachings.” Taking refuge in the Dharma means returning ‑ or “fleeing back” ‑ to the original truths or laws of existence, and our place in it. Consider what the first teachings of Buddha really had to say, and what was their intended effect upon the audience. The First Sermon lays out the essential logic of the Middle Way, and its avoidance of extremes of attitudes and approaches to the fundamental problem of existence as a sentient, human being. The design intent of the Dharma as expounded by Shakyamuni Buddha, was, as far as we can determine from the written record, to correct the conventional wisdom of the time, which I take to have been primarily based on beliefs and doctrines of Hinduism. One well-known example is his teaching of anatta or anatman, a refutation of the Hindu belief in a self-existent soul, or atman. Not being a scholar, I am basing this on my scant study of the canon and the opinion of others more learned than I. Considering how the Dharma was first shared gives us an insight more technically oriented to the intent of its design. In the beginning was the spoken word of Siddhartha Gautama, similar to the Bible's creation story. Buddha never committed a single word to paper, or so we are told. It is also said that he “never spoke a word,” a comment I take to mean that while language can point at the truths of Buddhism, it cannot capture them. Buddhist truth is uniquely experiential. It has to go through a kind of translation into language that is beyond language itself, as in the last stanza of Hsinhsinming‑Trust in Mind: Words! The Way is beyond language for in itthere is no yesterday, no tomorrow, no today Later given the honorifics of “Buddha, ‑ fully awakened one” and “Shakyamuni ‑ sage of the Shakya clan,” and others, ten in total, Siddhartha's First Sermon to the five ascetics with whom he had been practicing, begins with: O monks, these two extremes ought not be followed by one going forth from the household life. What are the two?There is devotion to the indulgence of self-gratificationWhich is low, common, the way of ordinary peopleUnworthy and unprofitableThere is devotion to the indulgence of self-mortificationWhich is painful unworthy and unprofitableAvoiding both these extremes the Tathagata has realized the Middle WayIt gives vision it gives knowledge and it leads to calm to insight to awakening to Nirvana The intent of the content was to dissuade these monks from continuing to follow the dictates of their method of asceticism, which Buddha had found to be ineffective, to say the least. And to hold out the hope that if they were able to relinquish their own opinions of the truth they were seeking, and the method for apprehending it, they would be able to accede to the insight that he had experienced directly in meditation, the “middle way.” “Tathagata,” by the way, is also one of the ten honorifics accorded to Buddha later in the course of his teaching career, meaning something like the “thus-come one.” It was most likely appended to this narrative when finally committed to written form, some four centuries after-the-fact. But our point is that the spoken language was the medium in which the teaching was first shared. Buddha was said to have spoken Pali, which is similar to, and perhaps a dialect of, Sanskrit. The theory I have heard explaining why they were not recorded in written form is that they were considered sacred, and writing them down would have made them vulnerable to accidental or intentional change. The oral tradition was more dependable in terms of preserving them with their original intent intact. So the “design intent” of Buddha's use of kind or loving speech was not the usual intent of language in general. It was intended to encourage others to apprehend the “Great Matter” of life-and-death in the most direct way, the only way, possible. Buddha recognized that there was no way of sharing his experience with others in the ordinary sense, so he resorted to parables and analogies, to allow his audience to see themselves in the pictures he painted, and to transcend ordinary understanding in words and phrases, or the pursuit of information, the usual application of language. The later codifying and organization of the original spoken teachings into the Tripitaka or “three baskets” was designed to allow teachers and students to study the voluminous canon in an orderly way, and to prioritize their approach to it in digestible bites. It was most likely understood that the existing literature of the time ‑ which had to be scarce, compared to today's glut of publications – was to be absorbed in concert with practicing the meditation that had led to Buddha's insight to begin with. As Master Dogen reminds: Now all ancestors and all buddhas who uphold buddha-dharma have made it the true path of enlightenment to sit upright practicing in the midst of self-fulfilling samadhiThose who attained enlightenment in India and China followed this wayIt was done so because teachers and disciples personally transmitted this excellent method as the essence of the teaching In the authentic tradition of our teaching it is said that this directly transmitted straightforward buddha- dharma is the unsurpassable of the unsurpassable The design intent of the teachings has been, from the very beginning, the direct transmission of the buddha-dharma, what Matsuoka-roshi referred to as “living Zen.” In the daily lives of monks and nuns, frequent repetition of chanting selected teachings enabled the monastics to deeply assimilate them. Master Dogen was known for connecting each and every regular daily routine with brief recitations, such as the Meal Verse, in order to bridge the gap between the sacred and the profane, the physical and the spiritual. Codification of the koan collections of Rinzai Zen ‑ some 1700 strong according to tradition, later organized into five sets by Hakuin Ekaku Zenji, the 18th Century Rinzai master ‑ represent design efforts to structure the lore and legacy of Zen's anecdotal history of exchanges between masters and students available in progressive levels of difficulty, enabling accessibility of the apparent dichotomies of Dharma. Soto Zen simplifies the approach even further by regarding zazen itself as representing the living koan, requiring nothing further to complement, or complicate, the process of insight. All the various models of buddha-dharma developed by the ancients qualify as efforts in information design ‑ visualizing images and what is called “pattern-thinking” ‑ that allow us to grasp the form of the Dharma beyond what mere words can convey. The Four Noble Truths comprise the first historical example of these descriptive models, including the prescriptive Noble Eightfold Path. Tozan's “Five Ranks” and Rinzai's “Host and Guest” come later, but have the same design intent – to help their students get beyond the limitation of the linear nature of language. My semantic models of the teachings, published in “The Razorblade of Zen,” represent more contemporary cases in point. Nowadays ‑ as testimonial evidence indicates, from one-on-one encounters in online and in-person dharma dialogs with modern students of the Way ‑ people are no longer studying buddha-dharma as they may have throughout history, when documents were rare. More often than not, they are reading more than one book at a time, in a nonlinear process I refer to as “cross-coupling”: simultaneously absorbing commentaries from one author or translator along with others; or perhaps comparing the teachings of more than one ancestor of Zen to those of a different ancestor. This may be an artifact or anomaly of the ubiquitous presence and availability of Zen material in print form, as well as the encyclopedic scope of online resources on offer today. It seems that in every category, and every language, we have at our fingertips a greater textual resource than ever conceivable in history, dwarfing the great libraries of legend. We can “google” virtually anything – no pun - with a few strokes of a keyboard. In addition, Artificial Intelligence threatens to bring together summaries and concoctions of content at the whim of any researcher; documents are readily searchable for those who wish to quantify uses of words and phrases at any point in history, teasing out trends and making judgments as to the hidden patterns in historical evolution of ideas. In this context it is difficult to ascertain the design intent of dharma as articulated today. It is not easy to discern the intent of the publish-or-perish, rush-into-print crowd, or to judge whether a given piece of contemporary writing is worth our effort and time to read. Fortunately, Zen offers a wormhole out of this literary catch-22. Zazen provides recourse to an even greater inventory of databases, built into our immediate sensorium. We can always return to upright sitting, facing the wall. This is where we will find the nonverbal answers we are seeking so feverishly, and somewhat futilely, in “words and letters” as Master Dogen reminds us in his seminal tract on meditation, Fukanzazengi: You should stop pursuing words and lettersand learn to withdraw and turn the light on yourselfwhen you do so your body and mind will naturally fall awayand your original buddha-nature will appear This stanza is sometimes interpreted as a slam on the nature of contemporaneous Rinzai practice predominant in the Japan of Dogen's time. But I think we should take a broader view of the great master's intent. He is merely cluing us in to the fact of the futility of pursuing literal, linear understanding of the Dharma in its manifestation as verbal expression. We are to turn our attention, instead, to the immediate and intimate presence of the self of body-and-mind ‑ beyond, or before, words can interfere. Here is where, and now is when, we will witness the full force of the design intent of the Dharma.* * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

In the next three segments of UnMInd we will take up the Three Jewels, Gems, or Treasures: Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha - the highest values of Buddhism - from the perspective of their design intent. Buddha practice - time on the cushion dedicated to recovering our original, awakened nature ‑ is the most important dimension in the Zen, or meditation schools. Dharma study – reviewing and contemplating the teachings transmitted by Shakyamuni and the ancestors down to the present day ‑ comes second in importance and emphasis, as an adjunct to meditation. While participation in and service to the Sangha ranks third in the tripartite hierarchy, all three legs of the stool are considered essential to leading a balanced life of Zen. It will be most appropriate to take them in reverse order, beginning with Sangha, or community, the one most fully integrated with the social dimension. The Refuge Verse, usually chanted on a daily basis, and translated variously, reads: I take refuge in Buddha I take refuge in Dharma I take refuge in SanghaI take refuge in Buddha the fully awakened OneI take refuge in Dharma the compassionate teachingsI take refuge in Sangha the harmonious communityI have completely taken refuge in BuddhaI have completely taken refuge in DharmaI have completely taken refuge in Sangha The act of taking refuge may be interpreted in a variety of ways; from the New Oxford American Dictionary: • a condition of being safe or sheltered from pursuit, danger, or trouble: he was forced to take refuge in the French embassy | I sought refuge in drink. • something providing shelter: the family came to be seen as a refuge from a harsh world. • an institution providing safe accommodations for women who have suffered violence from a spouse or partner. Its etymological origin is defined as: late Middle English: from Old French, from Latin refugium, from Latin re- ‘back' + fugere ‘flee'. Over the two-and-a-half millennia of the history of Buddhism, the communities of monks and/or nuns originating in India may indeed have comported with all of the above definitions at one time or another, with the possible exception of seeking refuge in drink, which may be more characteristic of lay practice. Certain modern Zen masters have been known for their fondness for sake and beer, as was Matsuoka roshi. The dictionary definitions share a decidedly fraught connotation of seeking “shelter from the storm,” to quote Master Dylan. But when we look at the role of the Zen community in the context of modern-day America, we can see that taking refuge in the sangha has less wary, socially positive functions as well – beginning with that of providing community, itself. True community is an increasingly rare commodity in today's mobile society, where we as householders may or may not know our neighbors; and if we do, we may not for long, as they, or we, may move several times in one lifetime. In ancient India, China and the Far East, people may have been more likely to stay put in their birthplace, unless they were driven to flee danger or trouble. Today, we have displaced persons approaching an estimated 110 million, the largest refugee population in history. When we analyze the design intent of western Zen communities, which manifest a mix of traditional protocols and adaptations to modernity, we have to take into account that the monastic model is no longer the predominant form, outnumbered as it is by the expanding cohort of lay householders. People of all walks of life are taking up the practice of Zen in their daily lives ‑ including participation in programs offered by Zen centers and temples in their neighborhoods, or within a reasonable commute ‑ returning to families and professional livelihoods, partaking of practice opportunities when and where they can fit them in. I call this “guerilla Zen”: we hit it and run; hit it and run; engaging more formal training with a simpatico group, while sustaining daily practice at home, at work, and at play. Everything is eventually subsumed under Zen. Churches and other associations share this paradoxical characteristic, caricatured by the “Sunday saints, Monday sinners” trope. Zen centers do not typically preach morality from the pulpit, but offer some degree of sanctuary in which members can retrench, to reenter the fray of daily life from a more balanced perspective and stance. This is reflected in the Sixteen Precepts of Zen, which we will not detail here, but include such social parameters as not killing, stealing or lying, not indulging in gossip, and so on.The key characteristic by which a Zen sangha is defined is captured in the expression, “harmonious community.” We all belong to, or partake in, various communities and subgroups in our personal, family, and professional lives, but not all of them would meet the high bar of harmony that is associated with a Zen community, or that of a church. We are expected to leave our lesser angels at the doorstep, and aspire to a higher level of behavior, particularly with regard to our fellow seekers of awakened awareness. Compared to other socially-determined groups, such as those found in retirement homes, extended care facilities, private clubs and gated communities, one difference is that a sangha welcomes all comers, however diverse in terms of age, gender, income, background and education, or other social factors by which groups tend to discriminate. “Birds of a feather” and all. Zen groups assume that members are like-minded in their pursuit of the Dharma, and it quickly becomes apparent when newcomers join a sangha for all the wrong reasons. Attendees joining Zen retreats or undertaking residential practice are analogized to stones tumbling in a stream, rubbing all the rough edges off, until we become smooth and polished – harmonious - in our interactions with others. Several dimensions of the Zen environment yield clues to its design intent, and where it may differ from other communities. These will vary from group to group, based on the history and traditions unique to each lineage, the legacy of its founders, and, of course, personalities. Generally, we are encouraged to overlook minor superficial differences in protocols and procedures, focusing on the underlying intent of propagating Buddha practice - meditation; and promulgating Dharma – study of the teachings; the two highest-ranking values in Zen. Let's look at a few characteristic behavioral forms and features to be found in multiple “practice places of buddha-tathagatas everywhere,” to borrow a phrase from Master Dogen: OBSERVING SILENCEAn emphasis on observing long periods of silence is unusual in most public gatherings, noting exceptions such as monastic assemblies devoted to vows of silence, or Quaker congregations. Restraining speech can feel awkward, even artificial; but in time it becomes a welcome source of respite and relief from the usual pressure to engage in small talk in most social and fellowship settings. In Zen, special attention is given to being mindful while others are meditating, taking heed to move quietly, as well as foregoing unnecessary speech. MAINTAINING SIMPLICITYVisual simplicity complements acoustical silence in the form of clutter control, straightforward layout and organization of the space and furnishings, and movement through it. The meditation hall, or zendo, is a particular focus of this principle, but it applies to all the shared public spaces of the facility. The catchphrase is “leave no traces” - which has personal meaning in terms of attachment and aversion - but is manifested in communal environs by putting things back where they belong, fluffing sitting cushions, straightening shoes on the shoe shelf, and so on. Emphasis is on reducing distraction that might intrude upon or interfere with the experience of others. CLEANINGPart of the process of achieving simplicity is the ritualization of temple cleaning, in Japanese, soji. Matsuoka-roshi would often say, “Cleaning is cleaning the mind.” The very act of decluttering the space relieves the mind of mental clutter. He would say “I like to keep it empty around here.” It is understood that “the dust itself is immaculate,” of course, that nothing is really “dirty” in any absolute sense. But attitudes and approaches “providing a space conducive to practice” – a unique definition of generosity, or dana, offered by a senior member of HH the Dalai Lama's inner circle, when giving a talk at ASZC some years ago – are meant to accommodate the relative level of perception, that “cleanliness is next to godliness,” as cited by St. Thomas Aquinas. TRAININGCleaning the environment is a specific activity within the larger category of Zen training in general. We train ourselves to serve the community through these various activities, while at the same time serving our own needs for simplicity, silence, and so on. We train in what has proved necessary to establish and maintain sustainable group practice in the public sphere. Aspects of how we approach this in the context of community may begin to bleed over into our personal lives at home and at work. We may find ourselves growing more attentive to our home or office environment, assuming more ownership and authorship over their functions, and their impact upon mindfulness on a daily basis. Training in Zen manifests this “halo effect,” a natural enhancement of Zen awareness. BOWING AND CHANTINGThe intent of Zen ritual may not be apparent at first blush, and so is widely subject to misinterpretation. It looks, on the surface, much like any other service one might observe, in Protestant or Catholic churches, as well as synagogues. Some are put off by the bowing and chanting, reading in such connotations as worship, public religiosity, and obsequiousness, which are all inappropriate projections. While the various formal protocols that have evolved around Zen practice have practical effects of cohering the community, their intent is largely personal. The Buddhist bow, for example, represents, on one hand, the person we are trying to improve; and on the other, the ideal person we want to emulate, our original buddha-nature. But the palm-to-palm hand position, or mudra in Sanskrit ‑ called gassho in Japanese ‑ symbolizes that just as our two hands are part of the same body, these apparently opposing selves are also just one, or “not-two” as the Ch'an poem “Trust in Mind” reminds us. With repetition, the bow eventually becomes empty of inappropriate connotations. Like emptying a teacup, so that it can be refilled with deeper meaning. Matsuoka-roshi would often remind us to “Chant with the ears, not with the mouth,” and that the concrete chanting, itself, is the true meaning of the chant. In other words, listen deeply to the chant, which is a Dharma teaching - not a prayer or worship - so that the act of chanting in a group becomes deeply meaningful on a personal level. In professional design circles, these seemingly innocuous, everyday conventions of maintaining order in space, and harmonious dynamics in time, cannot be overlooked. They are, indeed, regarded as essential deliverables in retail and other commercial environments, where the adverse effects of clutter and noise can be measured in financial terms as loss of business and customer base. The influence of environmental factors may be less obvious in the personal realm. But in the world of Zen, they can provide powerful aids to finding and sustaining harmony with the Great Way, from Zen's roots in Taoism. For further pursuit of the symbolism and design intent of the Zen space and protocols, I refer you to Matsuoka-roshi's early collected talks, “The Kyosaku,” where you will find a chapter on the various elements to be found in most zendos. Meanwhile, remember Master Dogen's admonition in “Jijuyu Zammai – Self-fulfilling Samadhi”: Without engaging in incense offering, chanting Buddha's name, repentance or reading scripture, you should just wholeheartedly sit and thus drop off body and mind. Sangha, community service, is important, but only to the extent that it provides the conducive environment for Buddha practice and Dharma study. * * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

TLK Lotus Sutra - part 40 – Bodhisattvas Spring Up from Beneath the Earth. Maitreya finally asks the ultimate question. And this brings Shakyamuni to the centrally foundational point of the Dharma as developed by Nichiren throughout his doctrine. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra”   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

TLK Lotus Sutra - part 35 – Exhortation to Maintain Conviction and Confidence. Be true to the Teachings bequeathed us by Shakyamuni. This commitment will keep us protected from all detractors and distractions. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra”   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

TLK Lotus Sutra - part 28 – Predictions for the Arhats. Ultimately for the entire assembly, Shakyamuni states the ever present potential in all sentient minds to attain enlightenment, the realization of Tathagata, to course (live) as Bodhisattvas with Buddha mind. E-books – “Threefold Lotus Dharma Sutra” –  Artist's Proof   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

This episode we are looking at some of the earliest temples to be built in Japan.  Namely: Asukadera and Shitennoji.  These have pretty good claims to be some of the earliest temples, and they are mentioned in this reign, both in relation to the Soga-Mononobe War. For photos and more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-97  Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 97: Asukadera and Shitennouji. First off, quick shout out to Craig for supporting us on Ko-Fi.com.  We'll have more information on how you can help support the show at the end of the episode. To recap so far, we are still in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, in the 6th and early 7th centuries—though for this episode we are going to step back a little bit as much of this has origins in the 6th century, looking at the early spread of Buddhism and the founding of some of the first permanent temple complexes—specifically Asukadera in, well, Asuka, and Shitennouji in the area of modern Ohosaka. As we've seen, Yamato was in the process of importing various things from the mainland—both material culture and immaterial things as well, including philosophy and religion.  By religion, of course, we are talking about Buddhism, which we've already covered to some extent in Episodes 85 and 88, but let's go over a little bit of the history, shall we, and catch up with what has been happening since. Buddhism had likely been coming over to the archipelago since the arrival of Buddhist immigrants from Baekje and elsewhere, though their religion is not much discussed.  After all, the Nihon Shoki is focused largely on the Yamato royal family and the court, and so other than groups of immigrants beings settled and possibly organized into family groups, there wasn't much call to look into their day to day practices. It is also difficult to know just how far Buddhism had penetrated into the lower ranks of society on the continent, as well.  Certainly the courts had adopted Buddhism, but to what extent it was part of the daily lives of the common person, I don't know that I could say with any certainty.  Still, we can imagine that there were likely those who came over to the archipelago with an extant belief in the Buddha and some inkling of the rites and other aspects of Buddhist worship.  Did they set up small temples in their villages?  Or convert a house into a shrine?  Or did they just keep private practice and worship?  We don't know, and as far as I've come across we don't seem to have any conclusive evidence via the archaeological record, either.  And so we are left with the written record and what it has to say on the subject. The Nihon Shoki notes the first official mention of Buddhism in the archipelago as the arrival of a Buddhist statue from Baekje.  The official record puts this in the year 552, in the reign of Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, and credits Soga no Iname with taking and building the first temple and setting up the first temple by repurposing his own house—or at least some part of his property.  Other families, however, opposed the Soga's attempts at bringing in and establishing this new religion and ultimately ended up destroying that first temple, tossing the image into the river. This whole thing repeated itself in 584, about 32 years later—Silla had given Yamato a Buddhist image in 579, and then an image of Miroku, aka Maitreya, and an image of the Buddha, aka Shakyamuni, were both found.  Soga no Umako, Iname's son and successor to his role as Oho-omi, took the two images and had a temple once again built, importing specialists and setting up three nuns to attend to the appropriate rituals.  Once again, the Soga's opponents, led by the powerful Mononobe family, cried foul and had the temple destroyed and the nuns stripped of their robes. There are a few things about this account that are more than a bit sus, however.  First, there is mention of that first Buddha image in both the Joguki, the record of the life of Prince Shotoku Taishi, as well as a record from Gangoji Garan Engi, a record from Gangoji temple—which is to say Asukadera, one of the temples we'll be talking about, today.  In those records we find a different date for the first Buddha image, with its arrival coming in 538, not 552.  That would have put its arrival a year before Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, took the throne.  It is also rather interesting at just how much the two stories parallel each other, and one has to wonder if they were really two separate stories or if they were one story that got attributed to different members of the Soga family, for some reason.  It is also possible that they are different stories, but with similar elements that got conflated across each other.  Or it really was a matter of déjà vu, with the experience of Soga no Umako paralleling that of his father, Iname.  We also cannot discount some massaging of the text.  For one thing, they put it in the reign of Amekunioshi, who had a different maternal line than his previous two successors and elder half-brothers.  There may have been political reasons to keep the stories as they were and, hopefully, keep the story relatively tidy. Regardless of why, the implication seems clear that by 585 there were people in Yamato with some knowledge of Buddhism, as well as the necessary artisans and craftspeople to create a continental style temple complex. In the following years, the fight between the Soga and the Mononobe escalated with the death of sovereign and the ensuing succession dispute.  The Mononobe and their candidate, Prince Anahobe, were destroyed by forces in league with the Soga family.  During that conflict, which we covered in Episodes 90 and 91, there was a point where both Soga no Umako and his nephew, the young Prince Umayado, each prayed to the Buddha for victory, promising to erect a temple if they succeeded.  Indeed, they did succeed, and based on their vows, two temples were eventually created. The first temple is known as Asukadera, or the Temple of Asuka, although it also is known by its official name of Hokoji, and later Gangoji.  Construction of Hokoji started in 588, and is attributed to Soga no Umako. The second temple is Shitennoji, or the Temple of the Four Heavenly Kings.  We'll talk about them a bit more, later, but the Four Heavenly Kings are four gods, who appear to pre-date Buddhism, who were co-opted into the Buddhist pantheon as protectors of Buddhism, each one representing a cardinal direction.  Shitennouji's traditional founding is given to us as 593. Both of these temples still exist, in one form or another.  If you go to Asuka, today, you can find a small Asukadera on the site of the previous temple, but it is much reduced from its original form.  When it was built, Asukadera would have been at the center of the political heartland of Yamato.  It was the land of the Soga, but also the location of the palace of Kashikiya Hime, and it likely rivaled her palace for pride of place in Asuka.  However, when the capital eventually moved away from Asuka—first to nearby Kashihara, but then across the Nara basin to Heijo-kyo, modern Nara city—the temple buildings were removed to Nara, to modern day Gankouji, though the site of Houkouji continued to be used as a small, local temple.  The modern temple in Asuka does have a Buddha statue, however, that they believe to have been the original Daibutsu, or Giant Buddha, known as the Asuka Daibutsu.  It changed hands many times over the centuries, but has since come back to Asuka, though a little worse for wear. Shitennouji, on the other hand, is in the heart of modern Ohosaka, in the Tennoji ward.  The buildings of Shitennouji have been rebuilt numerous times, although supposedly by the same construction company, one of the oldest businesses in the world, and they remain in their original configuration.  Since they've been rebuilt, however, this is why you will often hear of another temple, Horyuji, also associated with Prince Shotoku Taishi, as being the oldest temple in Japan, as it has the oldest extant buildings.  Make no mistake, however—Asukadera and Shitennouji were founded first, and both still survive in some manner. These two temples do a lot to help us better understand Buddhism and its influence, but also helps us understand more than that.  They help us look into the politics of the time, and even illuminate some of the apparent tensions between different immigrant groups from Baekje and Silla that were becoming more and more prominent in Yamato. Of the various early temples that were built, Asukadera is perhaps one of the most well-documented, both in the historic record as well as the archaeological evidence.  Donald McCallum, in his book, “The Four Great Temples”, notes that serious study of Asukadera began around the Meiji and into the Taisho era, in particular calling out the work of Fukuyama Toshio, published in 1934.  Up to that point, it was mostly looking at the histories—both the Nihon Shoki and also works like the Gangouji Engi, the record of Gangouji, the later name for Asukadera.  He determined that much of the record, though it claimed to have been written by Shotoku Taishi himself, was actually written later than the Nihon Shoki, based on linguistic analysis.  However, there were some sections that appear to be earlier or contemporaneous with the Nihon Shoki, likely pulled from other works, which the Nihon Shoki may have been pulling from as well, including inscriptions on the extant temple buildings at the time.  This was determined by things like the grammar and Sinitic characters used, as well as the lack of terms like “Tennou”, which still were not in use until later periods.  It is also interesting to note that Shotoku Taishi is referred to in the document by the name “Prince Umayado no Toyotomimi” Based on that analysis, it seems fairly certain that Soga no Umako was, indeed, largely responsible for donations to build Asukadera, although the Nihon Shoki gives credit to Kashikiya Hime as well.  That and certain other features of the Nihon Shoki account were probably added later, possibly at the urging of the Gangouji priests themselves, to stress a stronger connection with the Yamato royal family rather than just Soga no Umako. The text gives a brief history of Buddhism, which is where we see Buddhism being introduced as early as 538, though it seems to suggest this was still in the reign of Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, rather than his predecessors.  Soga no Iname is still given much of the credit, though there is a note about Kashikiya Hime also installing a Buddhist icon in her own quarters at one point—something not mentioned in the Nihon Shoki.  It does mention the various pro- and anti-Buddhist arguments and steps that the various sides took, including Umako having three nuns ordained and them being eventually defrocked—though without mention of them being whipped, which may have been too much or could be sensationalist additions to the Nihon Shoki text. One thing that is notably missing in the Gangouji Engi, at least as McCallum summarizes it, is mention of the Mononobe and Soga conflict, and so there is no mention of any special vow that was made to build Asukadera if they were victorious—let alone anything about the vow to build Shitennouji.  Instead, it is instigated by the three nuns, who request both a nunnery and a monastery, each with at least 10 ordained nuns or priests, as that was the number required for many of the rites and to ensure proper ordination could take place in the future, thus allowing them to grow the religion.  These two temples would need to be close enough so that they could each hear the bells from the other. Although priests were requested from Baekje, too few came over in response, which is why the nuns themselves were sent over to get a proper ordination.  They return in 590 and urge the completion of the two temples—Asukadera and Toyouradera, the latter using the land that was previously Kashikiya Hime's palace prior to her moving to the Oharida palace site, nearby. All of that was based on the extant texts, but there were also archaeological excavations that took place in 1956 to 1957, as well as later investigations in and around Asuka Temple and the general area.  Even today, excavations in the regions are ongoing, and in a recent visit I saw them excavating nearby palace ruins.  Fortunately, the area has not seen the kind of heavy urban development, whether in the modern or pre-modern period, that many other areas have gone through, with much of the land having been returned to farmland, and the importance of the area, today, is well understood. The initial excavations were a bit surprising.  Based on extant temples such as Shitennoji, it was expected that Asukadera would have been planned out in such a way that there was a straight line from the central gate, to the pagoda and the kondou, or golden hall, sometimes called an image hall, with the koudou, or lecture hall, in back.  Often there is some separation of the lecture hall from the other two.  These buildings are both connected and separated by gates, walls, and pathways, including covered cloisters along the wall, which conforms to the pattern of temples on the Korean peninsula as well.  This is very reminiscent of the Baekje layout for temples, and may include other elements such as belfries or similar. The three main buildings each serve a purpose.  As we noted back in Episode 84, the Pagoda had replaced the Stupa, and was often a reliquary, holding relics of some kind.  Then there is the Kondou—literally golden halls, as many of the statues and other artwork would be gilded and designed to reflect light, often shining out from the darkness with the goal of leading more people to consider enlightenment.  These are the halls where images are placed—hence the other term, “image hall”—whether metal, wood, stone, et cetera. The pagoda and the kondou may be areas of personal worship, with believers coming to visit them, perhaps to venerate a particular aspect of the Buddha or contemplate something, and images or particular relics are often ascribed particular spiritual power.  Often these are included together or near one another. On the other hand the koudou, or Lecture Hall, also known as the Ordination Hall, would be the place for sermons and various ceremonies.  In many ways these are the “working” areas of a temple, and while they often have images and are ornately adorned, they have, in some ways, a more utilitarian function, and in many early temple layouts they are often held apart from the pagoda and kondou in some way. At Asukadera, the excavations revealed that it was not planned out in the standard three building model, all lined up, as had been expected.  Instead, there was a walled courtyard, with cloisters around the sides and a central gate that led to a pagoda in the middle of the area.  Then there were three buildings, identified as individual kondou, or image halls, spaced equally to the left, right, and behind the pagoda.  A larger building was then found behind the walled courtyard area, determined to be the temple's lecture hall.  All of this was enclosed in another wall, which seems to have defined the larger area of the temple. This layout is fairly unique.  It doesn't exactly fit anything we've seen in Baekje or Silla temples of the period, and most closely resembles something out of Goguryeo.  It may be worth noting that there are records that claim the King of Goguryeo provided funds to help build temples in Japan, and that some of the monks involved, including the monk Eben, or Hyephyeon, who helped initially ordain the Zenshin and her fellow nuns, was said to be a man from Goguryeo, and so may have had some influence on the design. On the other hand, the rooftiles found at the Asukadera site are very much in the Baekje tradition.  Up to this point, there is no indication that the Japanese were using rooftiles in their construction, and were likely using thatching, much as many Shinto shrines continue to use to this day.  The use of rooftiles is thought to have started with Buddhist temples, and occurred much earlier than their use in other buildings, including palace buildings.  Since rooftiles were ceramic, they required different construction techniques so that the roof could support the weight, which would further explain the need to import craftsmen from the continent to help build these structures. Rooftiles are not necessarily the most exciting thing for people wandering through a museum.  Often one is looking at weapons, jewelry, or haniwa statues, and suddenly you come across a plethora of tiles from different buildings, and it can be easy to just glance past.  Without understanding what you are looking at, the rooftiles often seem the same—or same-ish.  The majority of the tiles are plain, without much distinction.  End tiles—whether round or flat—often have similar decorations, such as lotus flowers, and they are often very similar to one another.  Furthermore, these are rarely refined works of art—tiles were meant to be mass produced and were often created quickly to meet the demands of construction. Despite all of this, I think it is worth recognizing that the rooftiles are often important to helping archaeologists, especially when the rest of the building is no longer extant.  Rooftiles often would fall off and get buried, or even be reused in some way to edge a gutter or something similar.  However, how they are made, the molds that were used, the composition of the clay, etc. can all be analyzed to provide information about the age and size of a structure, helping to know when different buildings may have been built or rebuilt, as well as providing some information on where the materials were coming from.  And for those who want to learn more, you can be sure that every part of a tile has its own specialized name and vocabulary—it is something that you can really delve deep into if that is your thing. The rooftiles at Asukadera are somewhat odd in that they are not as uniform as one might expect, and this may come from the fact that they had imported different tile makers from Baekje, and so each one set up their workshop with slightly different standards.  Later, as Yamato as more temples and other continental style buildings were built, these would become larger, more standardized industries.  Still, that they seem to conform to the general patterns found in Baekje speaks, again, to the location that the craftsmen were likely from, as well as the connections mentioned in the texts. And so we see at least Baekje and possibly Goguryeo influence on the design of this temple. One other thing that has been found is the stone pedestal for an image in the central image hall.  We know that at some point a large image was crafted, and the Asuka Daibutsu, or Giant Buddha Image of Asuka, is still extant, and the stone pedestal was likely where it or a similar image sat at some point.  However, just when this image was created and installed is still unknown—there are references to various images, but nothing that can be directly attributed to the current Asuka Daibutsu, though various scholars have identified it as being consistent with the Asuka style from at least the 7th century. The earliest information talks about the stone Miroku, or Maitreya, image that Kafuka no Omi brought back.  It was probably not that large, and it seems that it was eventually enshrined at Asukadera in some form.  There are mentions of various icons made in the early 7th century as well, which could refer to this.  It is said that it was made in 609 by Kuratsukuri no Tori, though that is not without controversy.  It was damaged in a fire in 1196, which was originally thought to have destroyed everything.  Indeed, an examination of the image has shown that it appears to have been reconstructed, though there is some evidence that the face and right hand are likely original, while the rest of the body was refashioned, probably from the burnt and melted pieces that were damaged in the fire.  It still sits in the Angoin at the modern site of Asukadera, for anyone who wants to come and see it. Taken together, this can give us some idea of what it took to build the temple.  Previous so-called temples appear to be conversions of local buildings, with perhaps some work on building a proper pagoda, but at Asukadera they went full-out to build according to the continental standards.  That said, there has been a significant amount of ink spilled over just how this process went. Based on the Nihon Shoki, it would almost appear that everything arrived, fully formed, at the end of 588.  As I've noted previously, the way that the Nihon Shoki records read it can sometimes be difficult to figure out exactly what happened when, as a single entry will often contain details that must have happened before or after the date of the entry itself, and it isn't entirely clear exactly what happened on the referenced date, in many cases.  Furthermore, since the Chroniclers were pulling from other sources, there is always the possibility that they, themselves, misinterpreted something.  Finally, I would note that their primary goal was to give readers and idea of what happened that conformed with what was known as true and what supported the state institutions.  Would it have mattered to them exactly when Asukadera was built, as long as it was generally right and in the regards to the appropriate sovereign and nobles?  Probably not. It likely would have taken some time to pull everything together.  There would have been planning sessions, and drawings.  They would have to harvest the right kind of wood and shape it based on the designs, and an entire industry of tile-making would have to be set up, likely with local hands learning the process.  Similarly, woodcarvers would have already existed, but they would likely need to learn new techniques to account for the continental design.  And then there were the various rituals that would need to be carried out.  This is all in addition to any stonework, special metalwork, or other such things that had not been previously done in the archipelago.  On top of that, there would have been issues of translation, with immigrant artisans directing their various groups of craftsmen. It is possible that work for planning the temple began as early as 588—which may have just been the request for more craftsmen—and then in 596, when we have textual evidence that some part of the temple was “finished”, that may have been nothing more than the pagoda by that time.   It is then unclear whether the other buildings were finished together or in separate phases—perhaps the central image hall was finished, and then the two on the sides of the pagoda were added at a later date.  Images may have also been shifted around as new images, like the Asuka Daibutsu, were completed.  Many scholars have argued for different interpretations based on their readings of the texts, but none of the evidence is so clear as to be incontrovertible. What is clear is that this was a grand temple, and that would have been equally clear to everyone who viewed it.  Furthermore, this temple was connected directly to Soga no Umako and the Soga family.  Something to consider:  Just as the giant tomb mounds helped demonstrate the power of various clans based on the work and resources that went into them, a temple like Asukadera would have provided similar cache for the Soga family.  This is more than just religious devotion, it was a political statement, made in the heart of the region that Kashikiya Hime was ruling from.  Visitors to her palace—not to mention later palaces in the area—would have hardly been able to miss the pagoda and the tiled rooves, and locals would have likely heard the toll of the bell, assuming that both they and Toyouradera had them as the sources mention. Speaking of Toyouradera, I have less information on that compound, but it seems to have been built sometime later.  Kashikiya Hime moved to the new Woharida palace around 603, which would have freed the Toyoura palace buildings to be used for the nunnery.  While there is evidence of a pagoda being built, I suspect that it originally reused the old palace buildings, repurposing them, and then would have been built out as time allowed.  There is still a temple in Toyoura, and some remains that have been examined, but I am not aware of anything as extensive as the work on Asukadera. In comparison—and perhaps contrast—to Asukadera is the other temple of this episode: Shitennouji, the temple of the Four Heavenly Kings.  Now while many later texts certainly involved both Kashikiya Hime and Prince Umayado in the building of Asukadera, it is clear that Soga no Umako played a leading role—and was probably the primary patron for that temple.  In contrast, Shitennouji is directly associated with none other than Prince Shotoku Taishi.  It claims to have been founded in 593, based on the account of the Nihon Shoki, and it is said to have been commissioned by Crown Prince Shotoku, aka Prince Umayado, in response to the Four Heavenly Kings' intervention in the Soga-Mononobe war. To put some of this in perspective:  Prince Umayado is said to have been born in 574, and he would have been a teenager during the Soga-Mononobe war, and would have been about 20 years old or so in 593.  Granted, this is Shotoku Taishi we are talking about, and all of the history about him claims that he was quite precocious.  It is said that when he was born, his hands were clasped together.  Two years later, he opened his hands and it was revealed that he had been born holding a relic of the Buddha, which was later enshrined at the temple of Houryuji. Speaking of Houryuuji, I'm sure we'll spend more time on it in a future episode, but here's what you probably should know for context.  Houryuuji was built on the site of Prince Umayado's Ikaruga palace, and is also said to have been directly patronized by Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.  Furthermore, it has the oldest extant wooden buildings in the world, let alone in Japan.  And yet, the Shitenouji temple appears to get more air time in the Chronicles, which may be a factor of several different things, but primarily indicating that Shitenouji and its patrons were ascendant at court at the time that everything was being written down, whereas it appears that Houryuuji may have been rebuilding after a fire, and therefore was not as prominent as it would later be.  Either way, I encourage people to visit both to get a better idea of this period. There is less textual evidence—or perhaps there has simply been less scrutiny—for the founding of Shitenouji, and its position is hardly central to the Yamato court.  Nonetheless, it is in a place of prominence, as it was near Naniwa, the port to the Seto Inland Sea and beyond.  This was also an area that had a high number of immigrants from the mainland, which I'll be returning to in a bit. As I mentioned earlier in this episode, Shitenouji follows what we might consider a more traditional design.  Entering through the central gate, one comes upon the five storied pagoda, behind which stands the kondou, or image hall.  All of this is surrounded by a cloistered wall, which encircles both until you get to the north end, where the wall terminates at the koudou, or lecture hall.  The buildings are brightly painted and decorated in red, green, and white—colors that would have likely adorned Asukadera's posts as well, and which we see in many later temples and images.  In fact, the image of a Buddhist temple as brown and plain comes later, likely originating with just the ravages of time and the lack of funding to keep up with the paint, which was originally said to help preserve the wood and prevent damage from insects.  Eventually, some sects would come to prefer the more subdued image brought about by natural wood, creating a new aesthetic that continues to be popular.  Today you can find a variety of different temple buildings from different eras, some of which maintain the bright colors that would have likely been part of any early temple. There have been some excavations around Shitenouji, which appear to confirm that the shape has remained roughly the same over the centuries, from what I can tell.  The buildings themselves have been rebuilt over the years, but maintain a certain characteristic that seems appropriate to the early temple period.  This may be due to the fact that the temple has retained the services of a family of temple builders that continue to operate as a business, even today.  Kongou Gumi claims that it was founded in 578, when craftsmen were brought from Baekje to help build temples in Japan, making it the oldest company in the world, though it is now a subsidiary company of the Takamatsu Construction Group.  They continue to specialize in traditional temple, shrine, and castle construction, preserving ancient techniques, but also employing modern materials, such as concrete and rebar, where appropriate. While they were specific to Shitennouji, they were not exclusive, and in the 16th century they helped rebuild Osaka castle.  They have repeatedly rebuilt Shitennouji and maintained it through the years, even after it has, at times, been completely destroyed by fire or even typhoon. The story of Shitennouji's founding we talked about in the episode on the Soga-Mononobe War, but to quickly recount:  The young Shotoku Taishi crafted figures of the four Heavenly kings and prayed for a Soga victory, promising to build a temple if they won.  The Soga did win, and so he followed through by building this temple, using land taken from the Mononobe during the war. So who were the Four Heavenly Kings?  Why didn't he just pray to the Buddha? The Four Heavenly Kings are gods from India that were transmitted along with Buddhism as Buddhist Deities.  They are: Vaisravana, aka Tamonten, in the north Virudhaka, aka Zouchouten, in the south Dhrtarastra, aka Jikokuten, in the east  And Virupaksa, aka Koumokuten, the west. In general, if you are at a Japanese temple, and you see the name end with “Ten” it may be referring to one of the various Heavenly Kings. The four heavenly kings are devas, and included as four of the 20 or 24 devas who manifest to protect the Dharma.  Given their role in protecting the various cardinal directions, they became popular in East Asian Buddhism, and show up in various Mahayana texts, but they also appear in Theravada traditions as well.  It is unclear exactly when and how they became associated with Buddhism, though it wasn't uncommon for Buddhism to co-opt various gods and deities and turn them into aspects of the Buddha, Boddhisatvas, or, as in this case, protectors of Buddhism.  We see similar things happen in the archipelago as various kami are, on occasion, given Buddhist aspects and accepted as defenders of Buddhism. It appears that they have a particular place in the Konkoumyou Sutra, or Sutra of Golden Light, which is where they appear to have entered East Asian Buddhism.  This sutra may have been translated as early as the 5th century, though the Nihon Shoki uses quotes that appear to come from a translation likely made around the 7th or 8th century, which was likely popular at the time that the Nihon Shoki was being compiled.  Not only that, but later in the 8th century, various Kokubunji, or provincial temples, would be set up under state sponsorship, in part to create spiritual protection for the realm, and these were specifically set up as temples of the Four Heavenly Kings.  So we can see that belief in the efficacy of the Four Heavenly Kings was important around the time that the Chronicles were being compiled. In addition, Shitennouji is heavily influenced by what some call the “Cult” of “Shotoku Taishi”.  Again, by the time that the Nihon Shoki was being compiled, Prince Umayado had already been lifted up on a pedestal and turned into something more than just a Prince—however influential he may have been.  He became known as the Father of Buddhism, and the Father of the Nation, having also played a part—we are told—in the creation of the first ever 17 article constitution.  He was a Soga relative but he was not, importantly, a member of the direct Soga line, which would land on hard times just a few generations later and be on the political outs. Michael Como, in his book on Shotoku Taishi, also points out that Shitennouji was associated with the Abe family and with various lineages with ties specifically to Silla, including groups like the Hata—although the layout of the temple still accords with Baekje temple design, as far as I can tell.  Still, by the 8th century in particular, Shitennouji and similar temples claiming sponsorship or connections to Shotoku Taishi appear to have had connections with lineages descending from or with connections to Silla.  Spoiler alert:  Silla would eventually take over the entire Korean Peninsula, and therefore, by the 8th century, there were no new “Baekje” or “Goguryeo” immigrants—anyone coming over was from Silla.  And Michael Como points out that there seems to have been a bit of a political rift and distinction between Silla descended lineage groups and Baekje descended lineage groups.  Asukadera and the Soga family—and even Shotoku Taishi's temple of Houryuuji—appear to have been firmly attached to the Baekje lineages, whom they had sponsored to come over to help them promote Buddhism, but by the 8th century, Silla-backed groups were more dominant.  He points to a “split” in the Shotoku Taishi worship, with the Silla-backed temples dominating the narrative in the 8th century and beyond. This may also play into the story of the founding of Shitennouji, as there is a similar story in the Samguk Yusa, as Como points out.  In it, the King prays to the Heavenly Kings for victory against the Tang, and that same King is said to have built the Sacheonwang Temple in the Silla capital of Gyeongju.  This temple would become a model for later temples in Silla, and introduced a layout with two pagodas, rather than one.  We see this pattern arrive in the archipelago, influencing temples like Yakushiji, in modern Nara. Unfortunately, this all seems to just muddy the waters.  I think we can probably say that the founding of Shitennouji by a young Shotoku Taishi, while possible, seems a bit sus.  Sure, I guess they could have built a temple on the land taken from the Mononobe—it would have been quite the statement given that the Mononobe had been so anti-Buddhism, at least according to the textual records.  But was it originally dedicated to the Four Heavenly Kings?  Or did that part come later, as the texts on the Four Heavenly Kings grew more popular? I suspect that the temple, which seems laid out in the standard Baekje style, was no doubt one of the early temples, and it may even have been built on Mononobe property.  But the association with Shitennouji—and the legend of Shotoku Taishi—probably came later.  It was in a great position, however, to gain patronage from newly arrived immigrants, as the port of Naniwa would have been one of the more cosmopolitan locations, and after the downfall of Baekje and Goguryeo, most of those people crossing the sea would have identified with Silla. Regardless of the legends behind it, Shitennouji does appear to have a claim to be one of the oldest temples in Japan, and shortly after it was built—or at least they started work on the temple—we are told that Kashikiya Hime told Shotoku Taishi to aggressively promote Buddhism, which seems to have kicked off a temple-building fad.  No doubt the prestige that came from being connected with a temple like Asukadera or Shitennouji had some small part to play in that. Temples would become another source of spiritual, and thus political, power, for various kinship groups, much as shrines and kofun were as well.  In fact, the temple building craze is often seen as the beginning of the end of the Kofun period.  All of the money and resources that were poured into temple building—whether as private projects or as state sponsored projects—would put a huge drain on the labor pool for things like monumental tombs.  In addition, as Buddhist theology took hold, a dedicatory temple was, in many ways, more useful, as it could be a way of building merit for the dead, as opposed to simply building giant tomb mounds.  That doesn't mean it ended immediately, but as I've mentioned before we start to see the tomb sizes shrink.  Nothing would rival the middle kofun era building projects, and there would be a greater focus on building things like temples. I also suspect that this new style of construction may have had other knock on effects as well.  Grand buildings such as those built for temples, and later palaces, were not quite so easy to dismantle and reassemble elsewhere.  These were major construction projects and the materials were now heavier, especially those tiled roofs.  Not that it was “easy” to just build a palace in the older style, but it was clearly something that could be done quickly if necessary, as shown with the construction of various temporary buildings for envoys and the like—or even the decision to move to a new palace part way through a reign.  These new buildings weren't the same, and we can see how, when Asukadera was moved up to Nara—where it is known as Gankouji—they clearly left many of the buildings and materials behind and likely built new buildings in the new capital.  Giant images would also have been difficult to transport, and probably easier to just commission a new one.  Had Asukadera, aka Houkouji, not burned down and been generally neglected by the court, which by then had moved on to Heian-kyo, then perhaps it would have retained some of the buildings, as Houryuuji, did.  Unfortunately, it did burn down, and so today is only a shadow of what it once was—though still worth a visit, in my opinion. And that's where we'll wrap things up for now.  Until next time, then, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.   

To elicit the bigger picture of the place of Zen and zazen in our world of practice, I would like to refer you to a couple of semantic models illustrating the interrelationships, or operative interfaces, of the various components of the Four Noble Truths, along with the dimensions of the Noble Eightfold Path that we all encounter on a daily basis, both on the cushion and off. Turning to Buddhism's Four Noble Truths, we see that they can be modeled as a system, the simplest geometry for which is the four-pointed tetrahedron (a “system” here defined as anything exhibiting an inside and an outside). The model shows their interconnectedness, from one to two to three to four, from two to three and four, et cetera. There are six relationships of the four points, to each other. How does the existence of suffering relate to its origin, craving? And so on and on. Go to the UnMind webpage to see my diagram of the Four Noble Truths as a four-pointed tetrahedron. The link to the page is in the show notes for this episode. The four are usually presented in a linear layout in text, beginning with the first Noble Truth of the Existence of suffering (dukkha), followed by its Origin; its Cessation; finally the Noble Eightfold Path, which leads to the cessation of suffering in daily life.First, we must challenge the appropriateness of the word “suffering” to translate the meaning of the Sanskrit word, “dukkha.” Unfortunately, suffering is fraught with narrow connotations of human pain, not only physical, but emotional, mental, and even existential in nature. But I do not believe that this is the intended meaning of the original term. Buddha was expounding a universal principle — that of unrelenting, inexorable change — which we naturally interpret from the perspective of our personal angst, as “suffering.” The Noble Eightfold Path extends this description of reality into a prescription for practice in daily life. Visit the webpage in the show notes to see the diagram illustrating the interconnectedness and interdependence of the elements in the Eightfold Path. A common example: “you talk the talk but you do not walk the walk”; a functional disconnect between right speech and right action.As you reflect upon the Noble Eightfold Path, consider how the interdependence of the eight dimensions reinforce each other: How does Right View influence Right Thought, or Right Speech? Where does Right Action connect with Right Livelihood and Right Effort? Is Right Mindfulness dependent upon Right Effort, and does it then lead to Right Meditation, or is it the other way around? Zen tradition claims to transmit the “right meditation” practiced by Shakyamuni, the historical Buddha and progenitor of Buddhism. But we recognize the absolute relevance and modernity of his message, privileging the simplified approach of Zen. Note that the eight dimensions are numbered in reverse order: “right view,” number one, being more a result than a starting point; right meditation, number eight, is where we must begin. As mentioned in UnMind number 131, “The Noble N-Fold Path”, the traditional division of Buddhism's Noble Eightfold Path may have to be updated to reflect the complexity of living in modern times. Nowadays we might want to add more dimensions to the original eight prescribed for practice in a simpler time. Perhaps today we would end up with a Noble Thirty-Two-fold Path as the last of the Sixteen Noble Truths. In Un Mind number 131, I mused upon the notion of adding “right balance” to the mix, what with the geometrically expanded choices we face in pursuing right speech, action and livelihood, and the challenges of living a Zen life in the midst of over-choice: the temptations and distractions pulling on us from all directions while we navigate the tightrope and keep all the balls in the air. We hope that we can “have it all,” especially compared to our ancestors in Zen, but “living large” exacts a steep price. To cite just a few of the dimensions of our modern milieu, distinctions with a tangible difference from ancient times, challenging our sense of balance today:TRAVEL: Buddha's “ecological sweepout,” to borrow a Bucky Fullerism, was limited to the radius he could reach on foot, by donkey or elephant, though there were likely significant incoming influences from the Silk Road and other trade routes. One of our senior priests made the point that for the first time in history, every individual on the planet is potentially only one plane ride away from every other person. This has all kinds of implications, some positive, some not so much, such as the boost it gives to viral vectors spreading disease globally with blinding speed.TECHNOLOGY: The interconnectivity of masses of people around the world, with advances in applications that provide automatic translation of languages, live video and audio recording and reporting of events on an unprecedented scale and scope of detail and timeliness, is a double-edged sword, a tool that can be used for good or ill, depending on the intent of senders and receivers of the message. The old-school formulas - that “The Medium is the Message”; communication is not the message sent, but the message received - no longer hold in a world of technology that allows anyone to put any words they wish in the mouths of anyone they want. It is impossible to catch up with even the jargon that attempts to keep up with scams popping up like weeds in the garden. From a Buddhist perspective, the upside is that world-around digital media have established a technical analogy to Avalokiteshvara, who “sees and hears the suffering of the world,” and comes to help, in her mission as the Bodhisattva of Compassion. One can hope. EDUCATION: In Buddha's time, and for the vast majority of the development of human civilization, choices in education were severely limited, primarily to learning the trade or craft of one's ancestral family. Compare to today's nearly unlimited potential for social mobility, promising transcendence of the caste or class system, implicit or explicit, into which we are born. One current downside is the emergence of massive student loan debt, a significant burden for those who have elected to finance higher degrees, which do not guarantee a successful career with the ability to pay off that debt.CORPORATIZATION: An awkward word to label an awkward development. Another significant difference in our world and that of the Buddha is the predominance of the corporate entity, which I suppose first reared its ugly head with the formation of the city-states of Greece, and reached its apogee in the Citizens United decision of SCOTUS. Not that corporations are necessarily bad; there are some that are dedicated to doing good, such as NFP 501c3s incorporated for various charitable missions. But the human beings populating the corporate entities, as members of the board and other controlling positions, are still human, and can do more harm with the collective power and reach of the corporation, than they might be able to do individually. I could go on. For example, with the current spate of international wars, widespread drug addiction, and the senseless gun violence that have become our new, dystopian “normal,” were certainly not the norm 2500 years ago. But suffice it to say that Buddha did not have to cope with this scale and scope of the onslaught of global insanity, though the self-striving nature of humanity underlying the chaos has not fundamentally changed since his times. We would likely find it unlikely to find an apt analogy to Dogen's time, let alone Buddha's. When we comprehend the Four Noble Truths as mutually interacting, but constrained within the limits of the context of early Indian subculture, we can update them to the 21st century by constructing our own menu of actionable items based on today's realities. You could, with some imagination, build your own personal set of Noble Truths, four or more, and suss out the vectors of a modern Path that transcend those outlined by the Buddha. He would appreciate your efforts, I am sure.Let me encourage you to engage in such a creative exercise between now and when we meet again. Contemplate what the “existence of suffering” means to you, how you are to “fully understand it”; what attitude adjustments and actionable items on your particular path may be undertaken to transform that suffering into the right view of wisdom. Remember to consider the relationships between the various path factors that you identify, rather than treat each in isolation. In the next segment, I will attempt to expand the context even further, into those surrounding spheres of influence on our daily lives, as well as on our contemporary practice of Zen, well beyond the personal and social, to include the natural and the universal. Buckle up. * * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little

In the next two segments: number 132 and 133 in the sequence, we repeat a subject that we took up in number 113 and 114; namely the buddha nature versus human nature; some of the sameness and differences between what we refer to as “human nature” and what we refer to in Zen as our “original nature,” or “buddha-nature,” “buddha” meaning “awakened one.” Please bear with the repetition; there is new material here as well. And much of what is to be said about the place of Zen in America bears repetition. As promised in the last segment of UnMind, we will continue examining the social, or “corporate” expressions of human nature — versus what we call “buddha nature” — with an eye to those corporate entities growing out of Zen practice, such as the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and the Silent Thunder Order, as examples. Master Dogen mentions the constructions of humankind, indicating that they, too, are part and parcel of the nature and manifestation of buddha-dharma: Grass, trees, and lands which are embraced by this Teachingtogether radiate a great light and endlessly expoundthe inconceivable profound dharmaGrass, trees, and walls bring forth this Teaching for all beingscommon people as well as sagesand they in accord extend this dharmafor the sake of grass, trees, and walls In India the original Order of monks and nuns apparently camped out in the woods, and when the monsoons came, retired to caves in the mountains. Eventually, patrons built dwellings for them, the first “walls” to house the followers of Buddha's teachings. Somewhere I came across a saying, something to the effect that, when a precious jewel appears in the world, not to worry, a container will appear to protect it. The “precious jewel” is the buddha-dharma, and the container consists of the various temples, practice centers, and monasteries that have been established to protect and preserve it. The Dharma opening verse that we typically chant at the beginning of a discourse says: The unsurpassed, profound and wondrous Dharma is rarely met withEven in a hundred, thousand, million kalpasNow we can see and hear it, accept and maintain itMay we unfold the meaning of the Tathagata's truth Assuming we can “see and hear” the Dharma, it becomes our charge to “accept and maintain” it. In the context of modern society, this means not only providing the physical plant, the “walls” within which followers are invited to practice, but also providing the corporate structure that will enable others to maintain the program of promulgating Dharma teachings and propagating the direct practice of meditation, through their financial and in-kind donations. For this reason, and other related incentives, it becomes necessary to establish a 501c3 not-for-profit corporation in order to maintain Zen practice interfacing with other, governmental corporate entities. But some caveats are in order when doing so in the furtherance of Zen, in light of its skepticism regarding the constructed self. Where Zen calls into question the reification of even the human entity, or being, and its extension to the concept of a self, the soul of theism, or atman of Hinduism; the reification of a corporate entity is seen as equally, or even more, suspect. ASZC was incorporated in 1977 to facilitate the mission of meeting the public demand for what we refer to as genuine Zen practice, in particular its uniquely simple and direct meditation. What we refer to as “Soto Zen” or “Dogen Zen” is different from all the other alternatives on offer. Just as what Buddhism teaches as its worldview is starkly different from the various religions and ideologies dominant in our culture. STO was incorporated in 2011 because the stress and strain on the board of directors and committees of the ASZC had become too much to handle, with the growth of our network of affiliates, which were meeting the increasing demand for Zen practice; and the growing awareness of ASZC and STO as meeting that demand in a uniquely user-friendly manner, stressing the practicality and best practices of householder Zen. BUT We should not be confused as to the reality or unreality of the corporate entities we have “established.” They are no more real than any other corporate entity, though we may feel that their existence as such is much more necessary and based on real human need. The human beings, or sangha, populating the corporate shell are real and existent dharmas, in its connotation of “dharma-beings.” The corporation is real enough, in that it can interact with other corporate entities, but is essentially a real but non-existent dharma being, a construct. In spite of the “Citizens United” ruling of the Supreme Court, corporations are demonstrably not persons and should not have the “rights” accorded to human beings, in my humble opinion. All beings are capable of doing harm; corporate entities may survive their human components and thus become capable of extending the harm, or good, they do to future generations. Real persons, fortunately or unfortunately — your call — pass away eventually, but the harm they do often lives after them; thank you, Marc Antony. Sometimes through the corporations they formed during their lifetime. There is a rather useful trope to apply to your personal relationship to the corporate entity that represents the community of fellow practitioners of Zen. These are some issues that have come up from time to time, phrased in the format of “IF-THEN”: IF you find yourself obsessing over the wellbeing of the ASZC or STO, or your local affiliate center, including the management and succession of their leadership, THEN you may be getting distracted from your own, personal practice, which may be much more difficult to deal with, and less gratifying than engaging the social fray. IF you feel under-appreciated for your efforts on behalf of the organization, THEN a couple of reminders: One — welcome to the club. Two — remember that we support the organizations because they support the practice of Zen. And in Zen there is “no self, and no other-than-self.” Our actions are neither entirely selfish, nor entirely unselfish, when it comes to Zen. Or you could argue that they are both selfish and unselfish. IF you are engaging in certain activities, and feel that you are making sacrifices, for the sake of someone else in the sangha, including myself, THEN, please stop. A sense of emotional indebtedness will only grow, and can never be recompensed adequately. As Master Dogen reminds us, we should not imagine that we are practicing Zen solely for our own sake, let alone for the sake of others. We should practice Zen for the sake of Buddhism itself. The 13th Century Master cautioned his followers not to call it “Zen,” that Zen is a made-up term. It is only Buddhism, he said. But even his nomenclature reifies “Buddhism,” as if there actually is such a thing that needs our protection. Buddhism, like Zen, is also a made-up term. Shakyamuni was not a Buddhist, any more than Jesus Christ was a Christian. Buddha comes from a root word that means “awake.” Buddha means the “fully awakened one.” What he taught, and what his followers practiced — in a culture replete with Hinduism, where one imagines they encountered considerable resistance — came to be called Buddhism. As such, it is also subject to its own teachings of “impermanence, insubstantiality, and imperfection.” IF you find yourself sharing your personal doubts and frustrations with your fellow travelers as to how the sangha is functioning, including its leadership, THEN you may be fomenting confusion, and resultant disharmony, in the sangha, a big “no-no” in Zen. As the story goes, one of Siddhartha Gautama's cohort of cousins, named Devadatta, was jealous of Shakyamuni's revered status, including the lavish support he received from patrons, and repeatedly attempted to have Buddha assassinated. Yet Buddha predicted that Devadatta would eventually realize buddha-hood. If such transgressions against the cohesion of the corporate Order of monks and nuns in those times could be regarded by Buddha as a kind of trial-and-error, coming of age saga, if over several lifetimes — we may be forgiven for the more minor errors in judgment that we may reasonably be expected to make in our efforts at community practice, and any resultant behaviors that may have unintended consequences. In any case, it does not pay to overthink these considerations, certainly not to make them the focus of our personal practice. A monk complained that when sitting in zazen, the rain was dripping on him from leaks in the roof. The Master told him to “move down.” Why spend a lot of time patching and repairing an old temple building, when you should be about the business of your own awakening to Buddha's insight? It is even more likely today that we will become enamored of the corporate entity and all its trappings, and lose sight of what brought us to Zen in the first place. The only thing that will accompany us when we go to our grave is our deeds. We have to leave the chimera of the corporation, along with the walls of the building, no matter how grandiose, behind — as well as the paperwork, thankfully. This realization should be accompanied by an immense sense of relief. * * * Elliston Roshi is guiding teacher of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center and abbot of the Silent Thunder Order. He is also a gallery-represented fine artist expressing his Zen through visual poetry, or “music to the eyes.”UnMind is a production of the Atlanta Soto Zen Center in Atlanta, Georgia and the Silent Thunder Order. You can support these teachings by PayPal to donate@STorder.org. Gassho.Producer: Shinjin Larry Little