Bankei Zen
Page 1
BANKEI ZEN
Translations from the Record of Bankei
Portrait of Bankei, said to be a self-portrait. Property of the Yakushi-in, Kawasaki. (Courtesy Daizō shuppan)
BANKEI ZEN
Translations from the Record of Bankei
by PETER HASKEL
Yoshito Hakeda, Editor
Foreword by Mary Farkas
The author wishes to acknowledge the cooperation of the First Zen Institute of America, New York.
Copyright © 1984 by Peter Haskel and Yoshito Hakeda
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review. Scanning, uploading, and electronic distribution of this book or the facilitation of such without the permission of the publisher is prohibited. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. Any member of educational institutions wishing to photocopy part or all of the work for classroom use, or anthology, should send inquiries to Grove/Atlantic, Inc., 841 Broadway, New York, NY 10003 or permissions@groveatlantic.com.
Published simultaneously in Canada
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Bankei, 1622–1693.
Bankei Zen.
Translated from the Japanese.
1. Zen Buddhism—Doctrines—Early works to 1800.
1. Hakeda, Yoshito S. II. Haskel, Peter, III. Title.
BQ9399.E573E5 1984 294.3′927 83–81372
eBook ISBN-13: 978-0-8021-9696-5
Grove Press
an imprint of Grove/Atlantic, Inc.
841 Broadway
New York, NY 10003
Distributed by Publishers Group West
www.groveatlantic.com
TO MY TEACHER, YOSHITO HAKEDA, who spoke directly with the masters of long ago and taught me to listen, this book is gratefully dedicated.
CONTENTS
List of Illustrations
Foreword
Preface
Introduction
SERMONS
Part I
Opening of the sermons
Listen carefully
Precepts
The same old thing
I don’t talk about Buddhism
Meeting masters: Dōsha and Ingen
I’m ready to be your witness!
Growing up deluded
Thirty days in the Unborn
Ask me and I’ll tell you
“The Kappa”
Don’t beat sleeping monks
Mind reading
Moving ahead/sliding back
Old wastepaper
Self-centered-ness
Bankei’s Kannon
Getting sidetracked
Self-power/other-power
Dreams
Everybody has the Buddha Mind
Being living buddhas
Servants, samurai, husbands and wives
“Buddha” Magoemon
Like little children of three or four
Getting angry
Blindness and the Unborn
Part II
Now I’m going to talk to the women
The old nurse from Sanuki
Nothing to do with rules
Devices
Plain speaking
Illness and the Buddha Mind
Being free in birth and death
The original face
Entrances
To practice is hard
The crow and the cormorant
Let it be
The lawsuit
Mu
The crows go kaa-kaa, the sparrows, chuu-chuu
Two thirds is with the Unborn
Looking for enlightenment
No delusion, no enlightenment
Water and ice
Stopping thoughts
The mirror
Fire is hot
Be stupid!
Smoking
No such thing as enlightenment
Abide in the Buddha Mind
When thoughts arise
Letting things take care of themselves
HŌGO (Instruction)
Duality
The dog and the chicken
Farming with the Buddha Mind
The travelers
Parents
Becoming an expert at delusion
The living Buddha Mind
The “teetotaler”
Suppression is delusion too
Right now
Sleeping and waking
Sendai
The place of the Unborn
Letting go
Just as you are
Not even a trace
Kantarō’s question
Jōsen
The gambler
Miracles
A visiting monk
Being/non-being
Why are we born?
The one who sees and hears
The woman afraid of thunder
Bereavement
Blinding your eyes
Everything is smoothly managed
Where do you go?
The golden ball
Thinking
Women
The merchant’s dream
It’s fine just to feel that way
Using the three inches
Koans
The great doubt
Is this buddha?
Layman Chōzen
The craftsman’s dilemma
The angry abbot
When I first began to search
All the difference of heaven and earth
Watch where you’re going
The proof
True acceptance
My old illness
Seven out of ten
The monk Zeshin
FROM THE GYŌGŌ RYAKKI
Suspicion
Handling delinquents
The missing paper
POEMS
Chinese Poems
Japanese Poems
LETTERS
Letter from Umpo and Bankei’s reply
Letter to Sasaki Nobutsugu
Letter to Yōsen
Letter to Rintei
Letter to Lady Naga
Instruction for the Layman Gesso
“WORDS AND DEEDS” (Miscellaneous Materials)
Bankei’s childhood
The priest’s Fudō
At the post station
Bankei faces death
Among the beggars
The missing coins
The Confucians
The rich man’s wife
The wolf
The steward’s invitation
Heaven and hell
From your own mouth
Genshin’s thousand buddhas
Offerings
Counting
Soen’s special teaching
Positive and negative
Layman Gessō’s runny nose
The thief
Bankei and the stingy monk
The samurai’s fan
Bankei’s “no rules”
Chōkei’s seven cushions
The fencing master
Nanryū’s place
The rays of light
As you are is it!
Settei’s medicine
Shopping for the best
The Confucian’s question
Waste paper/clean paper
Bankei’s natural method
Bankei’s night sermon
The old tree
Ba
nkei and the blind man
Hachiroemon
NOTES
TRANSLATOR’S NOTES
ILLUSTRATIONS
Portrait of Bankei
Frontispiece
Following page
Bodhidharma, painted by Bankei
“The Unborn,” calligraphy by Bankei
Medicines and medicine box used by Bankei’s father and elder brother / Bankei’s meditation rock / Portrait of Tao-che
Portrait of Bankei by Yamamoto Soken
Views of the Ryōmonji
Statue of Umpo / Statuette of Śākyamuni
Calligraphy by Bankei
Street scene, from a seventeenth-century wood-block print
Main gate of the Hōshinji
FOREWORD
These days many people travel hundreds or thousands of miles to see or hear Zen masters. Some meet them. Some study with them. Few have a chance to ask them: What shall I do with my anger, jealousy, hate, fear, sorrow, ambition, delusions—all the problems that occupy human minds? And how shall I deal with my work, my mother and father, my children, my husband or wife, my servants, my employers—the relations that make up human life? Can Zen help me?
If the Zen Master Bankei were available for consultation at a nearby street corner today, he’d be saying much the same things he did to comfort and enlighten the parade of housewives, merchants, soldiers, officials, monks and thieves who sought guidance from him three centuries ago.
Bankei, the enlightened human being, shares his own experience with us as a real person, speaking his own real words. The advice he gives strikes right to the heart. It is highly personal, not theoretical or abstract. The nature of human beings has changed very little through the centuries, despite numerous efforts to change it. Nor does it seem likely to be less full of passion, jealousy and hate in the next thousand years, here or in outer space.
When Bankei had completed his spiritual training and monastic career, which included the founding of a number of temples and the training of innumerable monks and priests, his true concern was with the problems of ordinary people. He had wanted to share what he had discovered with his mother, his first audience, and, I believe, was finally able to do so before she died, a very old lady. He wants us to have it too.
Peter Haskel has found Bankei’s real voice. In this fine work by a young translator who has lived intimately with Bankei for the last ten years and knows him through and through, we are brought smack into Bankei’s world. It seems to be no translation at all. Although all the tools of scholarship have been meticulously used, no traces of them mar the polish.
No one needs to explain what Bankei means. His seventeenth-century metaphors and logic can be used or discarded without disturbing the substance of his teaching. What comes through is often just good hard common sense. Except for one thing: the Unborn Buddha Mind. Whether called by this name or any other, it is the heart of Zen as well as the core of Bankei’s teaching. Bankei’s approach shows that there is no need to be Japanese or imitate the Japanese to appreciate or acquire it.
MARY FARKAS
First Zen Institute of America
New York City, April 1983
PREFACE
My first encounter with Bankei was in the fall of 1972. I had arrived at Columbia University two years earlier, hoping to study the history of Japanese Rinzai Zen, but my general coursework and the extreme difficulties of mastering written Japanese had left me time for little else. Now that I was finally to begin my own research, all that remained was to choose a suitable topic. Brimming with confidence and armed with a list of high-sounding proposals, I went to see my advisor, Professor Yoshito Hakeda. He listened patiently, nodded his head, and then, ignoring all my carefully prepared suggestions, asked me if I had considered working on the seventeenth-century Zen master Bankei. My disappointment must have shown. Although I had never actually read Bankei, I had a vague impression of him as a kind of subversive in the world of Zen, a heretical figure who didn’t believe in rules, dispensed with koans and tried to popularize and simplify the deadly serious business of enlightenment. I was hoping to deal with a Zen master closer to the “orthodox” tradition, I tried to explain, perhaps one of the great teachers of the Middle Ages. “Take a look at Bankei’s sermons if you have a chance,” Professor Hakeda urged, “you may find them interesting.” My skepticism remained, however, and I did nothing further about Bankei, determined to find a more “respectable” topic of my own choosing.
The following year, Professor Hakeda raised the subject of Bankei again, and, in spite of my obvious reluctance, pressed on me a small volume of Bankei’s sermons. “Try reading a few,” he said.
Courtesy required that I at least glance over the text, and late that evening I turned to the first sermon and slowly began to read it through. What I found took me completely by surprise. Bankei’s approach to Zen was unlike anything I had ever imagined. Here was a living person addressing an audience of actual men and women, speaking to them in plain language about the most intimate, ordinary and persistent human problems. He answered their questions, listened to their stories, offered the most surprising advice. He told them about his own life as well—the mistakes he’d made, the troubles he’d had, the people whom he’d met. There was something refreshingly original and direct about Bankei’s fushō zen, his teaching of the “Unborn.” “Here it is,” Bankei seemed to say, “it really works! I did it, and you can too.”
The further I read, the more entranced I became. The next three nights, I could barely sleep. When I returned to Professor Hakeda’s office, I told him about my experience. “You see,” he said, laughing, “I knew that Bankei was for you!”
On my next visit, I arrived with a partial translation of the first sermon and began to read through the text, with Professor Hakeda making comments and corrections as I proceeded. This was the first of many such meetings which continued for nearly ten years and of which this book is the result. The work is, in a real sense, a tribute to Professor Hakeda. Without his assistance, his unfailing patience, wisdom and encouragement, it would never have come into being.
Among the others who contributed to the present work, Mary Farkas, Director of the First Zen Institute of America, deserves particular mention. She has generously given her time and attention to reviewing the manuscript at every stage, offering countless valuable suggestions. I am also deeply grateful to Professor Philip Yampolsky and the staff of Columbia’s East Asian Library for their expert assistance over the years, and to my colleague Ryūichi Abé, who participated in many of the translation sessions. Special thanks are due to Maria Collora, who kindly helped me in editing the English translation, and to Sandy Hackney and John Storm, who read through the completed text. Permission to use photographs included in the illustrations was graciously extended by the Tokyo publishing firms Daizō shuppan and Shunjūsha and by Mrs. Hiroko Akao of Aboshi, Japan. Finally, I would like to express my appreciation to Hannelore Rosset, my editor at Grove, for the extraordinary care she has lavished on the manuscript.
I have tried to offer Western readers a glimpse into Bankei’s singular world, using his own words and those of his disciples and descendants. The translations focus particularly on selections from the Sermons and the Hōgo (Instruction), for, although a certain amount of repetition occurs in these works, they are our most vivid and authentic records of Bankei’s teaching. Also included are a series of Bankei’s letters, examples of his poetry, and a sampling of materials from various anthologies composed in Chinese after his death. The criteria that guided my selection in each area were purely subjective: I chose those items that seemed to me most interesting and colorful, those that illumined certain aspects of Bankei’s character and times or were otherwise simply charming in themselves. Responsibility for any oversight or errors, here and elsewhere in the book, is wholly my own.
The earliest modern collection of Bankei’s teachings, the Bankei zenji goroku (Tokyo, 1942), edited by D. T. Suzuki in the Iwanami bunkō series, h
as been largely superseded by two more recent editions that serve as the basis for the present translations. These are the Bankei zenji zenshū (Daizō shuppan, Tokyo, 1970), edited by the Japanese scholar Akao Ryūji, and the Bankei zenji hōgoshū (Shunjūsha, Tokyo, 1971), edited by Fujimoto Tsuchishige. Fujimoto, a native of Bankei’s hometown of Aboshi, devoted a lifetime to collecting and publishing materials related to the Master and his teachings. All modern students of Bankei owe him a great debt.
Shortly before this book was to go to press, Professor Hakeda passed away after a long and courageous bout with cancer. It was his lifelong desire to revive the true teaching of Buddhism in both East and West, and his entire career was a selfless testament to that endeavor. All of us who knew him will miss him sorely and will always treasure his memory.
PETER HASKEL
New York City
September 1983
SERMONS of the Zen Master BANKEI
PART I
Opening of the Sermons
When the Zen Master Bankei Butchi Kōsai,1 founder of the Ryōmonji2 at Aboshi in Banshū, was at the Great Training Period3 [held] at the Ryōmonji in the winter of the third year of Genroku,4 there were 1,683 monks listed in the temple register.5 Those who attended included not only Sōtō and Rinzai6 followers but members of the Ritsu, Shingon, Tendai, Pure Land, True Pure Land and Nichiren Schools,7 with laymen and monks mingled together, thronging round the lecture seat.8 One sensed the Master was truly the Teacher of Men and Devas9 for the present age.
At that time, the Master mounted the lecture seat and addressed the assembly of monks and laymen, saying: “We’ve got a big crowd of both monks and laymen here at this meeting, and I thought I’d tell you about how, when I was young, I struck on the realization that the mind is unborn. This part about ‘the mind,’ [though,] is something secondary. You monks, when you abide only in the Unborn, [will find that] in the Unborn, there’s nothing anyone needs to tell you, nothing you need to hear. Because the Buddha Mind is unborn and marvelously illuminating, it gets easily turned into whatever comes along. So, as long as I’m telling the lay people here not to change themselves into these different things that come their way and trade their Buddha Mind for thoughts, you monks may as well listen too!”