Sacred and Ordinary Together
Mike’s own opinion: Japanese temple Buddhism failed to teach what Buddhism is; he encourages zazen at home
Michael Eido Luetchford
July 2009 — Brno, Talk 1.
Venue: Brno, Czech Republic.
Michael Eido Luetchford · July 2009 — Brno, Talk 1
Source: audio transcript.
From the retreatPhotosRecordings3Chronicle
Audio
2009-07-Brno-01-Present-situation-Two-sides.mp3 in the Google Drive folder
What the talk says (short overview) — About these overviews
Mike starts from the idea that everything has two sides and that in balance, which zazen practises, the two sides disappear, and he applies it in his honest opinion of Japanese temple Buddhism, which separates the sacred from ordinary life and, in his view, has failed to teach people what Buddhism is. Against it he sets a simple Buddhism in which zazen is practised at home in daily life and the sacred and the ordinary are put together.
He says he does not like sacred and special things, and that the ordinary situation of the retreat, with its difficulties, may be much better than a sacred one. Temples in Japan look peaceful and ordered and offer a break from normal life, which he grants has some value, but nearly all the young men who become monks there are very frustrated. After three years in a training temple such as Eiheiji they are so sick of zazen and temple rules that they stop practising, and in their own small temples they conduct funeral and remembrance ceremonies that pay very well. He admits that this sounds exaggerated and that there are exceptions, though very few, and says that because Japanese people hate zazen, teaching through temples has been a failure, which is why some monks, such as Shunryu Suzuki and Deshimaru, came to America and Europe. The traditional way dresses Buddhism in Japanese clothes and ceremonies in a special place, whereas the other way teaches zazen separate from sacred places, for ten minutes before work or after watching television, and he thinks this has much more value. Ordinary things like washing our face have a sacred face, sacred things like bowing in the dojo have an ordinary face, and putting the two together, he says, is what they are doing at the retreat.
Asked why the monks are frustrated, he points to strict discipline and temple rules written in the 13th century, which obedient Japanese monks put up with until it is over, and he sets against this balanced effort: not trying too hard, yet making some effort. When the interpreter Roman remarks that great Japanese teachers did not criticise the system, Mike answers that Kodo Sawaki criticised it with his actions by keeping away from temples, and that Shunryu Suzuki and Deshimaru left Japan. Because it is hard for Europeans to see the real situation, he says clearly that practising zazen regularly in daily life is the most valuable thing and that formal Buddhist practices are not so important. He also thinks that Zen in Europe has reached a critical stage as Japanese Buddhist authorities gain control of it, so it is important to escape from them. Asked about zazen, intuition and correct action, he says that in zazen we practise stopping our normal thinking, which covers up an intuition that directs our action before we think. Stopping our busy mind uncovers this intuition, but we cannot recognise or grasp it, and in Buddhism it is called prajñā, what comes before thought. At the end he says that the same schedule at every session is nice because we do not need to think, so up to a point rules give us freedom, while from another point of view rules suppress our freedom, because everything has two sides.
Complete English transcript — About transcripts
Editorial note: This transcript of a spoken talk has been lightly edited to read well as written text, keeping the speaker’s voice and meaning; the wording was adjusted with great care. We recommend listening to the original audio recording too.
So we recite Kaikyoge. If you don't know how to chant it, just follow everybody else.
[recitation, 00:00:56–00:01:44]
About our present situation. Everything has two sides. Everything has two sides. There is nothing without two sides.
But if we practise balance, which is, for instance, zazen, two opposite sides of something become balanced against each other. In that balanced position, both sides disappear. This morning I felt our situation here was chaotic. And I was thinking in my mind, ah, Karel didn't arrange everything properly. It's not good enough. But after practising zazen twice, I notice Karel's very great efforts to bring us together in this place.
So I'd like to thank you for your struggling. And I would like to ask everybody to struggle too, to make these two days balanced, to find two sides of everything, not only one side.
When we chant Kaikyoge, we put our hands together, and some people close their eyes. And it sounds very sacred and special.
I don't like sacred and special. Actually, I hate sacred and special. So maybe our situation here, which is ordinary and with different difficulties, is a much better situation than a sacred or special situation. A couple of days ago, in Pavel's apartment, we watched a DVD about Zen Master Deshimaru, who came to France in 1965 and established many groups to practise zazen.
And in 1971, he returned to Japan with a French filmmaker to make a film about Buddhist temples, Zen temples in Japan. We watched the film for about forty-five minutes, and I couldn't watch any longer. I want to tell you my honest opinion about it. But it's only the honest opinion of a human being.
It's not some kind of pronouncement of truth. Many people think that teachers, when they say something, only say things which are true, or things that are wise. But that's not true. So this is my honest opinion. I lived in Japan for more than twenty-five years altogether. And I visited the temple for sesshin more than a hundred times. And I noticed that in Japan, Buddhism is separated from ordinary life into an area called sacred. In this sacred area, everything is peaceful. Everything is balanced, everything is wonderful. So when we see a film about temples in Japan, or even temples in Europe, they seem to be wonderful. And of course, they are, to some extent. We can take a break from our normal life and go to a very peaceful place, where everything is ordered and everything is according to a fixed routine, and so on.
So I can't deny that they fulfil a function. They have some kind of value. However, they have another face. Nearly all the young men who go to live in Buddhist temples and become monks in Japan are very frustrated. For instance, they go to a temple, a training temple, for instance Eiheiji, and they stay there for three years normally. After following the life of the temple for three years, they are so sick of practising zazen and obeying temple rules that they don't practise zazen any more.
In their own small temple, they like to relax and drink beer. And they conduct funeral ceremonies. Funeral ceremonies pay very well. And then after one year they have a remembrance ceremony, which pays very well. And after three years, and after five years, another remembrance ceremony, which pays very well. So even small temples can become quite rich.
Then the head monk can buy a nice car. And at the weekends they can visit nice areas in the entertainment districts and get rid of their frustration. Of course, this sounds like I'm exaggerating. Surely there must be temples in Japan which are not like that. Yes, there are, but they are very, very few. So, if Buddhist temples in Japan are like that, it means that they have not been successful in teaching Buddhism in Japan. Although the temples in Japan have been going now for hundreds of years, and there are lots of temples everywhere, in small towns and large towns, these temples have not been successful in teaching people what Buddhism is.
So, if you ask a normal Japanese person, do you practise zazen? They say, What? Such a… Oh no! It's too painful. So it's very clear that Buddhist teaching in Japan has been a failure. For this reason, some monks came to Europe and to America. For instance, in America, Shunryu Suzuki, and many other people. And in Europe, for instance, Deshimaru, and other monks. And some of those people are teaching zazen in a simple way.
And some teach in the traditional Japanese way. To teach Buddhism in the traditional Japanese way is to dress up in Japanese clothes and to do special Japanese ceremonies in a special place. But the other way is to teach zazen separate from sacred or special places, to teach people to practise zazen at home when they have ten minutes: in the morning before work, in the evening after watching the television, at the weekend after returning from the pub.
And I think this has much, much more value than the traditional Japanese way. In Japan, they separate sacred things from ordinary things. So inside the temples and sacred places, everything is calm and beautiful. But inside those monks in those temples, everything is not calm and beautiful. Even if their faces look calm and beautiful, many of them are very frustrated. So I would like to encourage people to practise the simple Buddhism, where two sides, which are sacred and ordinary, are put together.
So if we put together the sacred and the ordinary, we can find the balance. Ordinary things which we do every day, washing our face, cleaning our teeth, eating breakfast, have a sacred face. Sacred things that we seem to do, for instance bowing to enter the dojo, chanting and so on, have an ordinary face. So to put together these two faces— So this is what we're doing here today. So thank you. I'll stop talking, and we can talk about anything, as long as it's sacred, or ordinary.
Question: I would like to ask your opinion about the frustration of the monks that you mentioned. What, in your opinion, is the reason for the frustration, and that they don't like to practise zazen any more? Because they're forced to do it.
Mike: Discipline in the temple is quite strong when they train them. And they have to practise zazen for very long periods, and they have to get up early. And they follow rules for the temple which were written in the 13th century, which is ridiculous. So they feel this is ridiculous. But in Japan, people are rather obedient. So they don't complain. They put up with the situation, on and on and on. Then, when it's finished: hooray.
We can find the same situation after sesshin sometimes in Europe. Ah, that was a good sesshin. Let's go and have a drink.
Participant: Yes. I think this is very similar in our country: when people finish some school, they say, Wow, we've finished, and they forget everything.
Mike: The secret is balanced effort. Don't try too hard. Even if you try too hard, you can't get any enlightenment. But you have to make some effort. So we make effort in a balanced way. But unfortunately, in Japan, this situation does not exist, generally.
Roman: Some of the great Japanese teachers of the 20th century, like Sawaki or Suzuki, didn't criticise the situation. I have never come across such criticism. I agree with you, but they never mention it: We practise too hard, or something.
Mike: So, for instance, Kodo Sawaki criticised it with his actions. He never had a temple. He kept away from temples when he started teaching, and travelled from place to place. Shunryu Suzuki left Japan and went to America. Deshimaru left Japan and said to his disciples, Don't go back to Japan. But they forgot what he said. So they went back to Japan and became part of the Japanese Buddhist system.
But here in Europe, we don't know. It's difficult for us to see the real situation with Zen. So it's necessary to say clearly: just to practise zazen in our daily life regularly, some minutes each day, or if it's possible, half an hour each day, is the most valuable thing. And to follow formal Buddhist practices is not so important. But meeting together like this is a nice way to encourage each other.
Do my words sound too critical? I think Buddhism which came from Japan, which people call Zen, has reached a kind of critical stage in Europe. Just in the last ten years, Japanese Buddhist authorities are getting control of Zen Buddhism in Europe. So it's important to escape from them, as quickly as possible. This is my opinion. I'm trying to think of something cheerful to say. You can't have biscuits and coffee at a Japanese sesshin. But here we are encouraged to eat biscuits and drink coffee. And many different kinds of biscuits are better.
Question: Do you have the same schedule during the retreat in Shizuoka, in Tokyo, with Nishijima?
Mike: Yes. Yes.
Participant: Even the biscuits?
Mike: No.
Participant: Oh.
Mike: No, that's a biggie, isn't it? Because the monks in the temple cooked food for us, and we ate food in oryoki bowls, three bowls: rice and soup and pickles, and so on, because this is the method in the temple. But before the talk, we had cups of green tea and Japanese sweets, for instance osembei.
Sembei is a kind of crunchy biscuit, but it's not sweet. Or small rice cakes with bean paste inside. So, a kind of Japanese biscuit.
Roman: In temples, do they usually eat in the dojo or in some other place?
Mike: In training temples, they do. In all other temples, they eat in the kitchen, or sometimes at McDonald's, which is very popular in Japan. So in many, many temples, the monks have completely abandoned a monk's life and are just sitting around the kitchen table, eating and talking and drinking.
Participant: What about us?
Mike: Of course, as I said, there are some exceptions. But the most important point is, even with these exceptions, the method of teaching using temples is a failure in Japan, because Japanese people don't like it. They hate zazen. Children hate zazen too, because sometimes in the holidays they have to go to a temple and sit in zazen. And they're very obedient, so they do it. But they don't like it.
Roman: I once met a Japanese woman in Prague, and I told her that I was practising zazen, and I thought, well, she would be excited. And she said, Are you a kind of hippie?
Participant: No.
Mike: Does anybody have a question inside their head which they can't make into a noise? Please make a noise. Please make a noise, like…
Roman: How do the Japanese authorities look at more and more Europeans coming to Japan and leading retreats or becoming head monks, like Brad Warner or the German monk at Antaiji? Are they suspicious?
Mike: Their attitude is very interesting. They say, Oh, foreign people like it. What we're doing must be good after all. So they are very pleased. And they like foreign people to practise in the same way that they do. So Japanese teachers like to have temples in Europe, for example. They feel, oh yes, it works here, it must be right.
Question: Could you tell us something, Mike, about zazen, intuition and correct action?
Mike: So when we practise zazen, we practise stopping our normal thinking, or stopping using this brain here, which is called the cerebral cortex. So we use this part all the time. We can't live in society without using this brain. But we have another brain, which is called the old brain. And somewhere in our brain, we have some kind of intuition, which is some kind of direction for action before we think. Everybody has it. But because we concentrate on thinking, thinking here, we cover up our intuition.
So in zazen, when we notice we're thinking, we stop, many times. So training ourselves to stop our busy mind uncovers our intuition. But when our intuition is uncovered, we can't recognise it.
So if we look for something called intuition, we can't find it, because it's very subtle. But it directs us.
So our actions come from intuition, if we make our thinking more quiet. But as Karel said last week, sometimes we have to think. We can't calculate a financial investment without thinking.
Question: Sometimes it's difficult to decide. In such a situation, people don't know whether it's better to prefer intuition or an idea.
Mike: Yes, so we can't decide. Intuition is before we decide. Intuition is our action itself: to stand up or sit down, to ask a question or keep quiet. So it's very subtle. We can't grasp it. We're walking along the street, and suddenly we cross over. And we think, I'm going into this shop. And in the shop we meet a friend. Oh, hello. So we didn't think about it. So intuition in Buddhism is called prajñā. Prajñā is a Sanskrit word: pra means before, and jñā means knowledge or thought. What comes before thought, we can't think about.
Participant: I think it was said about Hitler, and this is also this understanding of intuition, also a strong intuition, that he avoided many bomb attacks, because he had some meeting, but he was going to the meeting and he said, No, I'm going there. He didn't have information that there was a bomb, but it was many times. It was not just coincidence, you know. So he avoided it, he just went away, out of plan, completely somewhere else, and the bomb exploded somewhere. I have seen a documentary where the author had, like, the same interpretation of intuition, that it is something before the action, and that Hitler actually avoided many bomb attacks.
Mike: Yes. And even very wicked people have intuition. Everybody has intuition. The state between this extreme and this extreme, we pass through in the middle. So Hitler had very, very strong hate for Jewish people, for example, some very deep psychological problems. But even Hitler passed through the centre sometimes. So we can lead our life like this: extreme, extreme, extreme, and sometimes balanced. Or we can practise balancing our body and mind, and then we live like this, not so extreme. But not like this. It's only a dream. So it's like that.
I was going to say that I didn't talk about temples this morning because you just came from a temple. I decided yesterday, actually. So if you have some other opinion, please tell me.
Participant: In fact, Roshi says the same as you. He is really disappointed that in Japan most monasteries are oriented just to making Zen priests, and they don't sit zazen at all. It's possible to become a Zen priest without having sat even one single zazen in one's whole life. There are monasteries where they just do the ceremonies over and over again so that they do them properly, and earn money, and so on, but they don't actually sit zazen there at all. And Roshi tries to simplify the old forms, just to find the essence, which still helps us, although some of the forms are still kept. Because last year during this session, it was the first time when I felt for a very short moment that these strict rules can help me, that they make me free. I don't have to think about how to do it, how the food is served, how the food is eaten. I just do it the way it's given, and I am completely free. It took me three years of zazen to get there, and one doesn't keep that state all the time, but it has its meaning. So it was very strange for me, and Roshi is trying to find this balance. So in fact he says the same as you, and he compares it with Christianity: when it comes to Japan, it can be purer, in a better form than Christianity here in Europe, because most people here can't distinguish between local traditions, cultural habits and Christianity. And when Zen comes here, it's easier to find the essence of Zen or of Buddhism than in Japan, because in Japan it's mixed all over. And vice versa, Japanese people can find the Christian essence of this teaching better than we do. So it's always this balancing, in fact.
Participant: We can also say that when one gets used to the ceremony, it is, like, simpler. Even if I know the chanting, for example, when something is, like, fixed, with some given rules, the ceremonies, then one… Each of us is an individual, right; someone needs it more, someone less.
Participant: Karel says that he also thinks that when we get used to ceremonies or these rituals, we don't have to worry about them, and it helps him to be focused, to concentrate, and he has no problems.
Mike: It's true. But if you live like that, you become very frustrated. One member of our group in London, Christine, lived in the temple which is run by Jean-Pierre Faure in France. And she lived there for four years.
And she followed the rules. But after a few years, she found that the rules were too suppressing, suppressing the individual. So it's nice for a short time, but we need freedom. So, for instance, it's nice to have the same schedule for a session every time: zazen in the morning, then breakfast, then zazen, then coffee, then the talk, so we don't need to think. Maybe tomorrow we don't need to think. So yes, up to some point, rules give us freedom. But from another point of view, rules suppress our freedom. Everything has two sides. But it's very nice not to have to think, what am I doing today? Oh, what's the time now? Just do it and do it and do it.
Participant: Yeah.
Mike: So our schedule is the same as the roshi's schedule in Japan, with one difference: we practise zazen after the talk, because after the talk people are often thinking a lot. So if we practise zazen after the talk, we can forget about it.
Participant: When, for instance, somebody new comes who doesn't know much about Buddhism and would like to start, then such talk can, like, awaken the motivation to practise zazen.
Mike: A question. Can such talk like yours motivate people to practise? I don't know. I don't know the result of my talk. Sometimes I think, oh, that's a very poor talk. And somebody says, Oh, thank you, that's very good. So I can't tell.
So it's like we throw the words out. Where they go, we don't know. Maybe you catch them, maybe you don't. At 12.30 we practise zazen again. Yes, chant. So we're going to chant Fueko, and the rhythm is a little different for the first four lines, and then the last three lines are steady and slow.
[recitation, 00:56:32–00:57:43]
