This podcast is offered by San Francisco's Zen Center on the web at sfcc.org. Our public programs are made possible by donations from people like you. Good evening, everyone. As always, it's a joy and honor to be here with you. And for anyone who might be... new or newer, I just want to say a warm welcome and introduce myself. My name is Tenzin David Zimmerman, and I'm the abiding abbot here at Beginner's Mind Temple, otherwise known as City Center. And we are at City Center in the midst of a 10-week practice period. I believe this is week six. So we have a month to go. And we're... Ed and I are co-leading, Abbot Ed, and the theme of the practice period is an appropriate response, encountering Suzuki Roshi's teaching on the Blue Cliff Records, which is a collection of koans, Zen koans, about a thousand years old, more, actually more.

[01:13]

And so for each Dharma talk in each class, what we're doing is presenting a particular koan, maybe two, and then unpacking it and integrating it with commentary by Suzuki Roshi. And so I will continue that tradition this evening and explore with you case 75 of the Hikigan Roku. The title in the Blue Cliff record itself is Wu Chu's Unjust Beating. And it's also sometimes translated using the Japanese name for the main character, Ukyu's unfair blows, as well as Ukyu's blind staff. So there's a number of different translations. And here is the main case as it's presented by the person who initially compiled the Blue Cliff Record, Shuedo. A monk came to Wuchu from the congregation of the master of Tingchao.

[02:18]

Wu Chu asked, how does Tingchow's Dharma path compare to here, meaning at this temple? The monk said, it's not different. Chu said, if it's not different, then you should go back there and then hit him. The monk said, there are eyes on the staff. You shouldn't carelessly hit people. Chu said, today I've hit one and then hit him again three times. The monk thereupon started to leave. And Chu said, all along there's been someone receiving an unjust beating. The monk turned around and said, what can I do? The handle is in your hands, teacher. Chu said, if you want, I'll turn it over to you. The monk came up to Chu, grabbed the staff out of his hands, and then hit the teacher three times. Chu said, an unjust beating, an unjust beating. The monk said, there's someone receiving it.

[03:22]

Chu said, I hit this fellow carelessly. And immediately the monk bowed. Chu then said, and yet you act this way? The monk laughed loudly and went out. Chu said, that's all it comes to. That's all it comes to. Okay, so diving into this. Strange, bizarre encounter of people hitting each other. Let's begin with a little bit of a contextual background. It was a common thing during the Tang Dynasty for monks to go on pilgrimage and visit various temples and teachers. And the unnamed monk, in this case, previously had studied with Qingchao Shitsong, whose Japanese name is Joshu Sikiso. And now he's come. to Wuchu's temple, hoping to study a different form of Zen. And there were, as many of you may know, two prevalent schools of Zen at that particular time, the northern and the southern schools.

[04:31]

And in his commentary to this case, Suzuki Roshi says that the northern school was called the gradual school, while the southern school was called the sudden. The southern school was called the sudden school. Say that. Five times, really fast. And this northern and southern was basically indicating the different emphasis on how each school saw the process of enlightenment unfolding. Some said it was just like that, sudden, and others said it's a gradual process. And... And the difference between the northern and southern schools, says Suzuki Roshi, was considered as great as that between a dragon and a serpent. In other words, different but not so different. And so the monk who studied the northern style is now curious about the southern style of Zen taught by Wuchu Yaoshuang.

[05:37]

And we don't know much about... other than he was one of Matsu Talzi's Dharma heirs, and that there are a handful of antidotes that involve him hitting people who ask about Buddhism. Okay, so you can already tell that this teacher has this habit of hitting people whenever they ask about Buddhism. And I know had I come here and people started hitting me, I would not have stayed. So, in fact, this notion of whacking someone originally originated in the 8th century with Wuchu's teacher, Matsu, who I mentioned earlier. He's commonly referred to as Master Ma, and we met him a couple weeks ago when I unpacked with you all case three of the Blue Cliff Record, Master Ma is Unwell, or Sun-Faced Buddha, Moon-Faced Buddha. Yeah. And Master Ma and other teachers at the time, particularly in southern China, were searching for new methods to kind of wake students up, to snap them out of their conceptual mind and bring them into the present moment.

[06:50]

So rather than having them appear in their heads, what was the most physical, direct way to get them here in the present moment? So hitting and shouting and some other kind of very aggressive forms were used. was to bring you into the now. Now. Just this. Just this. And, you know, that might have been effective, but all the same, there were Zen masters, you know, particularly at the Northern School, who found this kind of practice a little bit absurd and off-putting. So it wasn't approved by everyone of the day. And maybe you also find, if you read these koans, you know, of this particular period, all the hitting and the shouting, a bit perplexing and offensive. Like, why? What's going on here? What is all this? But the thing is, it was practiced because it had a certain efficacy.

[07:51]

And as one teacher noted, every time you are hit with a stick, you have a chance to see your self-nature. But also... Getting hit is a good opportunity to see your mind. And getting hit unjustly is a great opportunity to see your mind. So in other words, getting hit is a practice opportunity. So after some brief pleasantries, Chu asked the monk, what did you find in Ting Chow's teaching? Is there anything different than what you find here? Now, who knows what Chu's intention is in asking this question, whether or not he's truly curious about the teaching of the other places that this monk has been to, or maybe he's just kind of looking for some kind of compliment. Oh yeah, this is the better place, right? I'm glad I'm here. This is the better one. But the monk responds, it's not different, right?

[08:58]

And Chu says, well, then if it's not different, then you should go back there. And then he hits the monk. Perhaps with a kirosaku, I don't know if any of you have seen the kirosaku. It's a traditional long, narrow wooden teaching stick, we call it. Sometimes it's called the encouragement stick. Usually it's about this long. And traditionally it would be used to hit people on the shoulder or parts of the back. And it's actually... quite wonderful because it helps to release tension in the upper body. So it has to be done correctly, but it's like one of those kind of deep shiatsu wax that really is energizing and can wake you up, again, if done with skill. And in case you're wondering, Zen Center, I think it's been about 15 years now, has long since retired the Kiyosaku. So... No worries here about getting hit with that particular instrument. Of course, in this case, the monk unassembly gets upset.

[10:01]

And he says, if your stick had eyes to see, you wouldn't strike me like that. In other words, it's not fair of you to hit me. If your staff had a discriminating sight, you wouldn't hit me. You have no just cause or just reason to do that. And so undeterred Wu Chu says, today I have come across a monk, sometimes a person. Basically, you know, he's saying, here's someone who's worthy of a blow from my staff because this is a trained monk, right? And then he gives the monk three more blows. And after this second indignity, the monk angrily prepares to leave. He's walking out the door saying, I had enough of this getting hit. But Wuchu calls him back by saying, sometime in life, sometimes in life, one may receive unfair blows. Now, to me, this almost sounds a little bit like a taunt, you know?

[11:05]

Kind of Wuchu is behaving unjustly and just trying to justify it by summing it up as a life lesson. And the monk then turns back and says, to my regret, the stick is in your hand. In other words, it's easy for you, teacher, to say that life sometimes deals with unfair blows since you are the one who's holding the stick. But then, surprisingly, Wuchu gives his teaching stick, the kiyosaku, to the monk, saying, if you need it, I will let you have it. How generous. So the monk goes to Wuchu, he seizes the stick, and gives the teacher three blows with it. And Wu Chu cries out, unfair blows, unfair blows. And the monk says, well, there's someone receiving it. And Wu Chu, pleased by the monk's response, says, I hit this one-two casually, after which the monk bows. And Chu then retorts, and yet you act this way.

[12:11]

And the monk laughs and departs. And Chu concludes by saying, that's all it comes to. That's all it comes to. So we might be left asking, what exactly does all this come to? goes without saying, but I will say it anyhow, that the world is often an unfair and violent place. Innumerable and myriad injustices have occurred throughout human history, and they continue to occur every day. And there are, of course, the gross injustices such as war, rape, slavery, genocide, as well as perhaps the less... apparent at times, but more ubiquitous forms of unfairness that are the matter of racial, gender, sexual, economic oppression, and inequality.

[13:19]

And then there are seemingly small injustices that feel more like, you know, small paper cuts, but they have a tendency to add up over time and become deeper and deeper wounds when they're repeated. And one of the results of all this injustice and violence is an enduring legacy of trauma, as well as anger and resentment and fear within the hearts, bodies, and minds of humans, all which only serve to fuel more violence and injustice. And while there is so much in life for us to appreciate and enjoy, if we only focus on the injuries, and the difficulties that we have experienced along the way, then in time we might begin to see the world and our life in a limited and negatively biased way. Unless, that is, we're able to find a way to transform the blows.

[14:24]

So I grew up at a time and environment where parents thought corporal punishment was appropriate. and even necessary to ensure that kids grew up properly, knowing right from wrong. And so violence at home, in my home, was quite common. At times it was extreme, like when my mother broke my brother's jaw by throwing him against the wall in a fit of frustration. And the time when my father threatened to kill my mother with a kitchen knife in a drunken rage. the night before she left our home. And following my parents' separation when I was five years old, I spent a number of years in the Mennonite children's home and several foster homes. And while my experiences at the children's home were generally positive and abuse-free, those of the foster homes were more difficult. I recall a particular, what I would say,

[15:32]

This was an unjust feeding, because I didn't think I deserved it, that I received from the mother at my first foster family. And I was six years old. So this was, I think, I was in the children's home for six months, then placed to the foster home. So this was maybe a year after I had left my family. And in any case, my mother, she was a foster mother. She was also Mennonite. And I found out many years later, she actually happened to be a distant relative. And she was punishing me for something. I don't remember what. Perhaps having a squabble with my foster siblings over a toy. And in case she decided I needed to be taught a lesson, which in their household was typically done by hitting us children on our bare bottoms with the belts.

[16:34]

So this is something that's common in the Lennonite community, a belt or a switch. And so my foster mother had me leaning over a chair in the kitchen with my pants down, and she was repeatedly hitting me with a belt, saying, I'm beating you because I love you. And this hurts me more than it hurts you. And at one point during the punishment, she grew faint and said she had to sit down. And she told me to get her a glass of cold water. So I pulled up my pants. I went to the sink and got her a glass of water and gave it to her. She took a sip and then spit it out and angrily said, this isn't cold enough. Get me another glass of water and make it cold. And so I went back. I got her another glass of water. And again, she spit it out, saying, this isn't cold enough. It's not enough. Can't you do anything right?

[17:36]

I'm in pain, and you're not helping me. Get me cold water now. So at this point, the elder foster daughter walks into the kitchen, and she quickly kind of saw what was happening. She went over and got my foster mother water, and this effectively ended this particular beating. And maybe my foster mother truly did believe her motives were good, that she did love me, and that this was an expression of love by beating me with a belt. But regardless of her intentions, being punished like that, and more than once, has an effect on you in the long term. Long after the punishment is gone, the mind, and in some cases the body, continues to be haunted by the injury. One can carry a scar or buried wound, perhaps a fear, anger, of deep confusion.

[18:44]

for years and years. And it may lie forgotten, but can surface at times in surprising and unconscious way where it's not appropriate. And several decades after that particular beating from my foster mother, I realized that what had stayed with me was not the physical blows of the bell, but rather the deep cuts of the words, not enough, not enough. and the existential scars that they left within me. And I, up to that point, had maintained some sense of okayness, despite what had happened in my family previously, despite going to the children's home, despite everything up. But something at that moment, something snapped in me, and a crack appeared in my sense of okayness and trusting in the world. And it's taken years of therapy and Zen practice for me to be able to address the wounds and the confusion of the experiences of my childhood violence had on me and begin a process of transforming the experience in a significant way.

[20:00]

And it may be that at some point we lose our trust in life because of the injuries life deals us with as we're growing up. And if we're not very careful, this distrust can begin to corrupt our way of seeing and relating to the world. Sooner or later, we may feel that everyone and everything at some level is not trustworthy, and as such becomes an adversary, or maybe an enemy. Maybe even life becomes the adversary. In a way, this is the subject of this koan. the ways in which we make life our adversary and wait for the next blow, the unfair blow, to come. Perhaps as a result, we develop a strong desire to maybe avenge the unfair blows that we encounter, to see that justice is done at some point. But this desire for justice can be very destructive and consume us.

[21:09]

If we are to be free... we somehow have to move beyond the condition of anger and outrage that we feel. I'm not saying we should give up on the quest for justice in our society, in our world, but I think we need to be aware of our underlying and often debilitating distress of life, which is really at the heart of much of our fear and anger. One may receive unfair blows. Wu Chu tells the monk after dishing out some unfair blows to him, just to make the point clear. In this particular case, it's not a matter of fairness or unfairness. One may receive unfair blows and learn how to do so.

[22:12]

It's unlikely we'll always escape them, no matter how hard we may try. There are the actual blows... And then there is our response to them. We may not be able to immediately do anything to arrest the blows, but we can do something about our response. It is by working with our minds and our thoughts that we can ultimately be less afflicted by unfair blows. This is the teaching that we find in the Dhammapada. He insulted me. He struck me. He cheated me. He robbed me. Those caught in resentful thoughts never find peace. She insulted me. She struck me. She cheated me. She rowed me. Those who give up resentful thoughts surely find peace. For hatred does not cease by hatred at any time. Hatred ceases by love. This is an unautable law. These are the Buddha's words.

[23:15]

So indulging in anger and resentment and a... And the sense of unfairness in the face of unjust circumstances only leads to additional misery for us. Life is unfair. Unfairness is what is. And it's not personal. I believe that justice is a human creation. It doesn't exist as a law of the universe. We make it up among ourselves in considering our own well-being, how we want to be related to. And so we have this law of justice, and we hope that everyone follows it. Unfortunately, the terms of what is just are not equally shared by everyone. So recognizing the reality one must face is the first step. Life is unfair. The cure for a self-created destructive spiral into more misery, as the Buddha taught, interrupting the cycle, indulging, you could say, our victim ego, and wishing that things were different.

[24:30]

How do we break that cycle? Our emancipation comes in meeting reality as it is, and then working skillfully to transform it whenever possible. And this is what we're doing each time we take our meditation seats. We're engaging in a process of transformation, of letting go, of forgiving ourselves and perhaps others in life for all the injuries and injustices done to us. We take our seats, focus on our breath as it flows in and out, and then willingly encounter all the emotional baggage that we have acquired over a lifetime, all the fear, anger, resentment, and so forth. And with as much compassion and awareness we can muster, we acknowledge and accept everything that we've been given, even if we didn't deserve it.

[25:38]

And much of it we didn't deserve. But the vast unfolding of life is more unknowable and unfathomable and yet more full of beauty and treasure than we've ever imagined. At a recent city center residence meeting, we have a resident meeting every month, one of the senior students shared something that Reb Anderson, who is a senior Dharma teacher at Green Gulch Farm, once said during a class. Apparently, someone asked Rev about how to work through difficult past experiences that they had with their parents, saying that they wish they could go back and change their past. And during the conversation, Rev said something along the lines of, you can absolutely change your past. For years, I thought I had a very unskillful father. And this is Rev talking about his father. Then I realized that the definition of a good parent is how well...

[26:41]

their kids turn out. So every day that I'm practicing, I'm turning him into a good father. So what a powerful and liberating path and transformation of everyone's pointing to there. We can become someone who can take the difficulties we have experienced with our parents, perhaps with others, and transform them into something maybe beneficial. And in doing so, also helped to rehabilitate our parents' legacy. This act of becoming the person we wanted our parents to be, to become the person we want others to be, not because we hate how they were or who they are, but because we liberate each other in this act of transformation. I no longer imprison myself or others in the past and past actions.

[27:44]

I allow each of us the freedom to become someone better, someone not limited by past karma, someone who can transform their karma. But in order to do that, I must transform my own karma by not limiting myself to past experiences and actions, regardless of how unjust. If anything, it's so often the injustice of a situation that compels a person to initiate powerful changes to address painful circumstances and horrible conditions. Think of all those who have willingly put themselves in harm's way, willingly risked being arrested and perhaps assaulted in order to protest larger injustices. personal and historical figures who've done just this, like Nelson Mandala, Mahatma Gandhi, Mamie Tel Mobley, Malala Yousafzai, and many others.

[28:51]

Sometimes in life one may receive unfair blows, Uchi tells the monk after hitting him without cause. I can't argue, says the monk, as the stick is in your hands. Well then, says, if you want it, I will let you have it. And the monk grabs the stick from Wuchu, strikes him three times, and Wuchu cries out, unfair blows, unfair blows. So sometimes we are the victims of injustice and sometimes we are the perpetrators. It's not a matter of just giving the power to those previously disempowered, but rather a matter of how it is that one is employing the power they have. What happens when the power is redistributed? Will justice always prevail? Sadly, it's often not the case. So what is it to receive the unjust flows of life and not make them personal?

[29:57]

To not make a self out of them? And we find a clue to this question when, after Wuchu is struck by the monk and he claims, you know, calls out in really a play-acting way, An unjust beating, an unjust beating. And the monk responds to him, well, there's someone receiving it. So who's the one there to receive the unjust beating? Who is this someone? The Buddhist answer would be that it's the fabricated notion of a separate self. When a Zen master would slap and strike various monks, The unjust strikes were meant as an invitation for the monks to see their sense of ego, their sense of self. A strike only lands unfairly when there is someone for it to land on. So from a Zen perspective, getting hit with a stick is a good practice opportunity in that it gives you an opportunity to work with your mind and ego, to find the one who hurts, and so on.

[31:11]

Is there someone to receive it? Who is that one? So in the koan, we see a reversal. The teacher initially wields the stick and then allows the student to wield the stick. And both teacher and student conclude by affirming a significant insight through their exchange. And I think it's helpful here to turn to Yuan Wu's pointer to the case, or the purpose to the case, to get a sense of what's going on between the teacher and the students. And here's the version that Suzuki Roshi presents in his commentary. The treasure sword of true knowledge is always present. beyond oneness and duality.

[32:13]

It is a life-taking sword, and yet a life-giving sword. Sometimes it is here in the teacher's hand, and sometimes there in the student's hand. But this makes no difference. Gaining or losing it, its positive and negative use are at each one's disposal, teachers and students. Just consider... How do you make good use of the treasure sword without attaching to it the idea of host and guest, or integration and disintegration? So the treasure sword, what is it? In his comments to this particular case, in this pointer, Sakita says that this is Manjushri's sword. This is the sword of prajna, the sword of wisdom. and of clear discernment. So it can both give and take life.

[33:13]

And whoever has this spiritual sword, in fact, everyone has this spiritual sword, but unless it's sharpened through particular practices, it kind of remains dull and useless. You can't weld it very well. And the way that we sharpen it is through our practice of zazen and moral conduct. And when we're able to sharpen it, then it's able to cut through delusions and karmic entanglements. And if you want to pick it up, you're free to pick it up. If you want to put it down, you're free to put it down. The choice is always yours. You're always free to choose wise discernment, even if you don't like the options. And I think so often we think, I'm only truly free if I have a lot of choices. This is a very American thing. The more choices I have, the more freedom I have. And actually, the freedom is in choosing what there is to choose as completely as possible, even if it is only one choice.

[34:21]

But say, what is it when not falling into guest and host? What is it without attaching to the idea of host and guest? And the theme of host and guest is popular within Chinese Zen. And it's broadly used to illustrate the interplay between the relative and the absolute. That is between phenomenon, in this case guest, and the essential nature of mind or emptiness, the host. And one of Zen's major tenets is that our personalities and our beliefs are not absolute. But rather they are guests within an impenetrable host. So this relationship then becomes more complex when we talk about guests within host and vice versa, as well as the host within the host. And you kind of, you know, if you've been here and you've done some of our morning chants, like the Jewel Mirror Samadhi, you hear these terms, guest and host, being used in the chants.

[35:27]

And so there can be this playful interchange in which guest and host trade places in various scenarios. And why? Because they're fundamentally the same. They're just expressing a different Dharma position or a different perspective. And this interplay can also be expressed in the relationship between a teacher and a student, which is what we often see in Zen koans. One role is the teacher or the host, and the other role is the student or the guest. And the host, the teacher, is the one who knows what's going on, and the guest is the one who comes to learn, to receive. And sometimes they switch roles. The guest plays the role of the host, and the host plays the role of the guest. And sometimes they both play the host, and sometimes they both play the guest. And this can happen, we see this happening in this particular koan.

[36:28]

when Wuchu gives the monk the stick and allows unfair blows to be afflicted on him. And Wuchu is demonstrating that he can accept the blows because he's not fixed to a particular position. Seeing Wuchu be able to move voluntarily and freely from host to guest and then back to host again, the monk realizes a little something. He realizes that Once one is able to stay connected to the host, to the non-dual awareness, to Buddha nature, to a Dharma position that is not limited to ideas of birth and death, gain and loss, fairness and unfairness, self and other, right? Then there is the capacity to bear all experience with equanimity. as well as take any Dharma position, particularly if it's beneficial to deepening one's practice or that of another, as a teacher might do.

[37:37]

And in this way, it's not so unbearable to take a few blows. And so this is how Wuchu can so easily give the stick to the monk, to his student, and say, go ahead, hit me. Ouch, ouch, that hurts. It does hurt. It's not saying it doesn't hurt. It's not saying there isn't pain. And yet, Wuchu can receive the blows from a student from the place of a host. It's like he's saying, you can hit me, and I love you anyway. I love you because we are not separate, and I know your true self. This is a Buddha and a Buddha. A Buddha hitting and a Buddha receiving. This is the mind in which this exchange is happening. That doesn't mean that mind is in every exchange, like with my foster mother and myself. I don't think that mind was there. But in this case, with the Zen teacher and this student, that mind becomes apparent.

[38:43]

So in this case, this is the stance, I'm an awakened person. And the monk sees Wuchu taking this position and realizes he doesn't have to meet his teacher's blow from a place of separation, of anger, resentment, hurt. Right? He doesn't have to respond from revenge. And Wuchu, seeing that the monk finally understands that he's recognized post-consciousness, that he's waking up a little bit, you know, He's having some insight. He says, I hit this one too casually. And after which the monk bows, acknowledging, being acknowledged. And then Chu retorts wryly, and yet you act this way. This is how you leave suffering behind. And the monk laughs and departs. And Chu concludes by saying, that's it.

[39:46]

That's all it comes to. just this process of waking up to our true nature and returning to this again and again whenever the unfair blows of life rain down on us. And now, while we might at times have anger and resentment arise for us, or notice we still have some residual feelings from past injustices, we are now more able to use wise discernment to appropriately meet and respond to whatever the feelings and memories that are arising. And much of Zen practice is about liberating ourselves, breath by breath, until we have stepped out of the guest mind of the victim and entered the host mind of a Buddha. And then we can find the compassion and understanding to forgive others, to forgive life, and forgive ourselves for all the unjust feelings we've received, and may be given up until this point.

[40:50]

And this is a truly liberating way to live. It's not easy, but it's worth doing. Thank you very much for your patience and kindness. Maybe I should have given a trigger warning before this talk, I realized, in hindsight. So I invite you to please take care of yourselves. Afterwards, be tender, be gentle, connect that within you, which is loving and kind and a place of stillness and great love. It's always there, even if we may not be in contact with it. So thank you again. For more information, please visit sfcc.org and click Giving.

[42:05]

May we all fully enjoy the Dharma.

[42:07]

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