seventh world of chan buddhism - Zen Buddhist Order of Hsu Yun

adiant, humble, compassionate, joyful. He is a budding Buddha. His fool is dead. It died in
the Swamp along with everything else he used to value.
Many Chan newcomers, however, act as if they intend to climb the Path while still
embracing their old strategies, titles and possessions. Like gentlemen contestants in a
leisurely sport, they require material comforts - books, recorded music, video, telephones,
computers, as well as quality garments and suitable accommodations. They need a
supporting entourage and of course, a gallery. Where is the sport if their efforts are not
appreciated by family, friends, colleagues, lovers, scapegoats and other prized companions?
Now the Chan master wants to know, "Who are you?" And the foolish newcomer
answers, "I'm John Doe, scion of the Doe family." Whack! The Chan master hits him with
the stick. "That's a name, a lineage, you dolt! Who are you!?" He tells the student to get out
and to come back the next day with a better answer.
During subsequent interviews, the contestant tries to identify himself in a variety of
ways. He tries his occupation or his membership in a social rank. He is somebody's son,
father, husband, or brother. He attempts to distinguish himself by his net worth or by his
nationality. He sees himself as somehow being a unique individual by virtue of his creed or
his address, by his personal achievements, traits or physical features. And each time he offers
a false identification, his master strikes him with his stick and charges him with stupidity.
By design, this humiliation does not take place in private. Chan masters are
notoriously loud, gruff, and indiscreet. Everyone within a radius of fifty miles will know that
the poor, oafish student is an Oaf of the First Magnitude.
May we suppose that by presenting ourselves as religious persons we have
legitimatized our fool? If, when our master asks who we are, we reply, "A humble servant of
the Lord," our master, when he stops laughing, will hit us with his stick.
Faking it, we may add, constitutes an impertinence deserving of many whacks. A
person who replies, "I am a Buddha" without having discovered this fact through Satori had
better be able to run fast.
No ego identification is valid. We do not vanish if our money or possessions
disappear or if our titles are taken away or if we are suddenly unable to perform some
meritorious act or other. If we lose a leg, our humanity is not diminished by a proportionate
loss. If we are stricken with amnesia we are not genetically altered. Let all this and more be
taken from us, yet while we live and are conscious, we remain. The ego is a series of
fictitious characters. In none of its aliases does it exist. Ultimately we find that all we are is
a complex human covering of a single Buddha Self.
Detachment is a yielding of status, a surrendering of pride. We live our lives
clamoring for recognition, sinking our emotional teeth and claws into other people whose
CHAPTER 12 RIGHT THOUGHT OR PURPOSE
S EVENTH W ORLD O F C HAN B UDDHISM
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