Volume 1, Track 8
Zen training is long and difficult. And the Master, much beloved by his disciples, may seem harsh to unknowing outsiders. Only if you are hopeless is the master kind to you. Two examples of this rugged training may be discerned in the following stories.
Generally, a monk will have taken the vows and begun his lifelong calling by the time he reached his early 20s. One aspirant, however, was almost 35 by the time he came to the temple to ask for admittance. As was the custom, he sat in the snow and wailed, “Save me, save me.”
Occasionally a monk would come out and lead to lead him to a latrine, after which she would resume his seat in the snow outside the temple. Finally, the head monk appeared and asked him his name, where he came from, and other pertinent questions.
Then the head monk asked, “You’re rather old, aren’t you? What took you so long to come here?” Startled, the waiting monk replied, “I had to stay and work to support my parents. They had no one else to care for them.” There was silence. “I’m still waiting for your answer,” said the head monk. Pretty stern stuff, no?
From a worldly standpoint, what better answer could there be? But the head monk was not seeing with worldly eyes. To him, the only task worth performing was to once and for all solve the enormous problem of life and death.
Indeed, outside many temples, is a small sign that says, “Only those vitally concerned with birth and death enter here.” A different scene may be seen on the wall at Ryōan-ji, Kyoto’s famous rock garden temple. It says, “We can save you from your enemies, but who can save you from yourself?”
Worth thinking about.
To listen to Justin reading Spiritual Stories of the East, click here.