The True Man of the House
This weekend is Father’s Day, and the sale papers are an inch thick. Even with all that good merchandise at 30% off, most dad’s end up with a tie and underwear, and nobody will see either of them. Giving a man of the house a gift is difficult enough, but having to find a sale item that is suitable as a gift is pure torture. Save yourself the trouble and just give him a few hours peace.
Zen stories are rich with examples of the relationship between teacher and disciple. On a spiritual level, they are truly father and son. Along this same line is talk about handing down or transmitting the teachings. A student will stay with his teacher almost like a tradesman. After quite some time of practice and encountering the world, the student may be ready to teach as well. Not all students become teachers. Zen Masters may not have progenitors.
The teacher traces his lineage all the way back to the Buddha, and when the time comes, the student is added to the pedigree. Ceremonially, this is represented by the legendary robe and bowl of Buddha, passed down from teacher to student in a line of direct succession. They are the outward symbols of a lineage holder, reflecting something that is inwardly working. It is more of an entrustment than the Stanley Cup. It is the student and teacher seeing eye to eye. They have recognized a special spiritual kinship.
A chance encounter can very clearly manifest an aspect of the teachings. Disciples may demonstrate a great intellectual understanding of the words and symbols, but it takes a clear, natural application for the lessons to pay off. It is the daily, informal performance of duties and dealings with problems that shows true colors. A student has truly learned only when the teachings become an effortless part of everyday life. When this is recognized, master and disciple have collided. They have become kin.
While genetics have their own influences, an intentional relationship can be as thick as blood too. The student and teacher put up with each other and admire each other, sometimes fighting with each other. The relationship is as tumultuous as any family living under the same roof. Unlike a common family, they transcend their petty differences and affections to look outward, and into the world of the lost and hungry. This is the true grist of the mill. If a student is working for his own benefit, and using accomplishment for self promotion, the master’s stick needs to be nearby.
A monk asks Master Gensha, “The vast, wide world is like a bright pearl. Why don’t I know this?” Gensha said, “What is the use of knowing?”