A guest post from Mike Jinji Sunya Wood
Apocryphal or not, Bodhidharma’s verbal jousts with Emperor Wu upon his first appearances in China are foundational in Zen for our understanding of our true nature. These brief mic dropping encounters give a lot to think about; one could say they represent our practice in a nutshell. There are variations to the story, in sequence, setting etc but the main teaching is the meat; all the details are just wrapping paper.
The scene and the message are satisfactorily and tersely stated in Case 1 of The Blue Cliff Record and Case 2 in The Book of Serenity:
Bodhidharma arrives in China, Liang Province, around 527 AD. He has come to India per the instruction of his Master, who heard that, despite a flourishing 300 year old Buddhist monastic tradition in China, there haven’t been too many reports of enlightenment. Soon after arrival he has an audience with the Emperor, who has studied Buddhism and contributed a lot to the material needs of both Buddhist and Taoist monks, including building monasteries. Some versions of the story have Emperor Wu greeting him on the shore as he lands, while others speak in some variation of the Emperor sending for Bodhidharma, having heard of his reputation.
The Emperor asks the monk to tell him which is the highest holy truth. Bodhidharma’s reply, “There is nothing, no holy truth,” was not only unsatisfactory to the Emperor; it both shocked and insulted him. This lead him to ask his famous question, “Who is this that stands before me?” To which Bodhidharma replied in equally frustrating fashion. His “I don’t know” chrystalizes the nature of our practice, the Keeping of “don’t know mind,” the Great Doubt, the constant reflection on impermanence and the conditional self. Those three words would shake the world.
More immediately it pissed off the Emperor, whose reaction to offer the monk a litany of all he has done to promote Buddhism in his kingdom, all the material goods he has provided monastics and lay practitioners, implying his own deep devotion to practice. He says to Bodhidharma:, “What merit have a accumulated through these actions?”
“No merit whatsoever,” is the reply. This wasn’t merely shade; Bodhidharma cut to the marrow of the Emperor’s practice and exposed an inherent selfishness of his magnanimity.
Bodhidharma’s “I don’t know” wasn’t intended to be smart-ass, nor was it meant to pass down into legend a core Zen tenet. It was a lifeline.
Just as if, when you dive into the river to save me from drowning and I first need to know your names, Bodhidharma, as you would be, making the drowning man know that who is speaking is not important. What is being said, or done, is what is important. Bodhidharma was saying pay attention! By saying there was no merit in all of the Emperor’s great actions, he was challenging him to realize he was asking the wrong question.
Did I do a good job?
What’s in it for me?
Who are you to talk to me like that?
What is the mind?
Wrong!
Keep doing what you are doing, out of necessity or compassion or whatever. Don’t think good or bad, reward or waste of time, heaven or hell, revered teacher before me or smart-ass. Do what you are doing. And let that be enough. See that it is enough. Live in that “enough” without all the questions.
It’s human to ask those questions.
But since you’re human: everything you do is human!
So it is also part of your nature to not need answers to those questions.
