Zen Sayings

[Cheezy the Wiz]

Found this at the following website: http://www.ashidakim.com/zenkoans/44thethiefwhobecameadisciple.html

One evening as Shichiri Kojun was reciting sutras a thief with a sharp sword entered, demanding wither his money or his life.

Shichiri told him: "Do not disturb me. You can find the money in that drawer." Then he resumed his recitation.

A little while afterwards he stopped and called: "Don't take it all. I need some to pay taxes with tomorrow."

The intruder gathered up most of the money and started to leave. "Thank a person when you receive a gift," Shichiri added. The man thanked him and made off.

A few days afterwards the fellow was caught and confessed, among others, the offense against Shichiri. When Shichiri was called as a witness he said: "This man is no thief, at least as far as I am concerned. I gave him the money and he thanked me for it."

After he had finished his prison term, the man went to Shichiri and became his disciple.

Rather like Jean Valjean and Bishop Myriel.

 

[Monsterzuma]

the Zen master does not care about dying either.

 

[Gary Childress]

the Zen master does not care about dying either.

But doesn't the Zen master "care" about dying? If he did not in some way care about dying, why not just slit his wrist one day for no reason. I don't think Zen masters typically do that so it sounds to me like they "care" about dying and I have always thought that the Zen master cares about failing. Otherwise Zen masters would more readily fail in things wouldn't they? So perhaps you are wrong and I am wrong when we try to make simple characterizations of Zen masters.

 

[Gary Childress]

Rather like Jean Valjean and Bishop Myriel.

Interestingly enough, after googling the term, yes they do sound similar. Are they told in a similar manner, though? The Zen one is taught in the form of a riddle of proverb. How is the story of Valjean and Myriel taught? Are they purely fictional characters in Hugo's novel or are they based on some true anecdote about real people? In a way the Zen one seems to invoke a lot of thought in a simple set of events. I wonder if Hugo's interpretation may be more like an appeal to the emotions versus an appeal to the intellect? What is your take on this?

EDIT: The Zen riddle is sort of vague and lacks a lot of context and any sense of good vs evil in the matter I think.

 

[Gatsby]

@Lucy Duke: I wasn't sure if all Zen wisdom and advice were strictly considered koans either. So "Sayings" sounded to me like a better term to use to encompass more phrases. Perhaps someone more familiar with Zen could answer whether or not all Zen wisdom and advice is considered a "koan".

Enjoying the irony of quibbling over semantics in a thread about Zen...

 

[Gary Childress]

Enjoying the irony of quibbling over semantics in a thread about Zen...

Is it really an example of irony, though? Sorry couldn't resist...

 

[Gatsby]

Is it really an example of irony, though? Sorry couldn't resist...

Heh heh

 

[bathsheba666]

He who knows, does not speak.
He who speaks, does not know.

 

[Gary Childress]

He who knows, does not speak.
He who speaks, does not know.

It seems to me that the act of speaking this information, then, must by necessity mean that the speaker of this sentence does not know. Perhaps this could mean to say that when one is speaking of Zen one is not knowing at the same time because the Truths or whatever of Zen are ineffable. However, when one does NOT speak about Zen, then at that moment in time one can know. So the same person can both know and not know at different points in time. But of course that raises the issue of are we the "same person", so to speak, from one moment to the next?

EDIT: So if the speaker of the sentence does not know, is it possible that the sentence itself could be inaccurate? Now I've gone crosseye again!

EDIT 2: Thinking about it more, the saying above seems a little "watered down" or something. It lacks a lot of context which the small story above it from the Zen website does not. At what time would a Zen master say, "He who knows, does not speak..." Obviously he seems to contradict himself at that moment. Do we know the full context of the statement? Perhaps it was said by a Zen master to somehone who witnessed him having sex with a goat? (J/K) But the point is effectively there seems like too much that we don't know about the statement to learn as much from it.

 

[Cheezy the Wiz]

Interestingly enough, after googling the term, yes they do sound similar. Are they told in a similar manner, though? The Zen one is taught in the form of a riddle of proverb. How is the story of Valjean and Myriel taught? Are they purely fictional characters in Hugo's novel or are they based on some true anecdote about real people? In a way the Zen one seems to invoke a lot of thought in a simple set of events. I wonder if Hugo's interpretation may be more like an appeal to the emotions versus an appeal to the intellect? What is your take on this?

EDIT: The Zen riddle is sort of vague and lacks a lot of context and any sense of good vs evil in the matter I think.

I don't know what inspired Hugo, whether it was a real situation or purely fictional. The purpose of that scene in the book is that, like the thief in your riddle, he is moved by the bishop's generosity, amiability, and charity, and most of all, his faith in Valjean to reform himself. It's a turning point: the bishop tells Valjean to use the money from the "stolen" goods to make a new life for himself, and he does, he becomes a force of good in society, becoming a mayor, philanthropist, and businessman, learning to read and write, raising an orphaned child, when he was once a destitute and indigent thief.

 

[bathsheba666]

It seems to me that the act of speaking this information, then, must by necessity mean that the speaker of this sentence does not know. Perhaps this could mean to say that when one is speaking of Zen one is not knowing at the same time because the Truths or whatever of Zen are ineffable. However, when one does NOT speak about Zen, then at that moment in time one can know. So the same person can both know and not know at different points in time. But of course that raises the issue of are we the "same person", so to speak, from one moment to the next?

EDIT: So if the speaker of the sentence does not know, is it possible that the sentence itself could be inaccurate? Now I've gone crosseye again!

EDIT 2: Thinking about it more, the saying above seems a little "watered down" or something. It lacks a lot of context which the small story above it from the Zen website does not. At what time would a Zen master say, "He who knows, does not speak..." Obviously he seems to contradict himself at that moment. Do we know the full context of the statement? Perhaps it was said by a Zen master to somehone who witnessed him having sex with a goat? (J/K) But the point is effectively there seems like too much that we don't know about the statement to learn as much from it.

You have expanded upon it.
Have you added anything ?

 

[Gary Childress]

I don't know what inspired Hugo, whether it was a real situation or purely fictional. The purpose of that scene in the book is that, like the thief in your riddle, he is moved by the bishop's generosity, amiability, and charity, and most of all, his faith in Valjean to reform himself. It's a turning point: the bishop tells Valjean to use the money from the "stolen" goods to make a new life for himself, and he does, he becomes a force of good in society, becoming a mayor, philanthropist, and businessman, learning to read and write, raising an orphaned child, when he was once a destitute and indigent thief.

Hmm. That does sound remarkably similar. It just strikes me that the Zen version (not familiar with Hugo's writings) just lays out the basic facts. So for instance, it doesn't seem to say the other people who presumably testified against the thief in court "should" have done otherwise. We don't know anything about the situation with the other people the Thief stole from. Also (presumably) in a sense the Thief doesn't go on to become a worldly "success" (mayor, etc). He returns to the Master and becomes a disciple. Does Valjean return to the Bishop? As far as becoming a "disciple" of the bishop that could very well be argued to be the case. Just trying to pick out the differences to compare the two stories.

You have expanded upon it.
Have you added anything ?

True. I have expanded on it. I suppose there is some sort of meaning to be extracted from it, it just seems like it's self defeating so if the statement is true and he who speaks does not know, then the riddle itself appears to be based upon information from someone who does not know. If the speaker doesn't know what he's talking about how can we be sure he is correct in his assertion in the first place? Or if he is corrrect and the riddle itself is true, then it sounds like the one who spoke it must conversely "know". So again the riddle is false. What is to be done with a false riddle? Should we dwell on it or move on to something else? It sort of reminds me of "what is the sound of one hand clapping." It basically vexes you to the point where you really can't say anything substantial about it. It seems to me one hand cannot "clap" and if it cannot clap then there is no sound. What has been gained by pondering such a riddle? Perhaps it's like asking, "if a rooster laid a chicken egg, what color would it be?"

 

[Cheezy the Wiz]

Does Valjean return to the Bishop? As far as becoming a "disciple" of the bishop that could very well be argued to be the case.

Well not quite. The exchange is as follows:

The Bishop drew near to him, and said in a low voice:--

"Do not forget, never forget, that you have promised to use this money
in becoming an honest man."

Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of ever having promised anything,
remained speechless. The Bishop had emphasized the words when he uttered
them. He resumed with solemnity:--

"Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It
is your soul that I buy from you; I withdraw it from black thoughts and
the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God."

So not a disciple of the bishop, but a good person, and ostensibly thus a disciple of God.

 

[Terxpahseyton]

He who knows, does not speak.
He who speaks, does not know.

@Gary Childress
I don't think that this is a false riddle per se. Rather, it rests on a specific assumption to not be false. Which is that something can be known, but not be articulated. Hence, if you tried to articulate it, you would prove to not actually know it. Which also makes clear the necessity of a riddle in the first place. Because if you can not articulate it, you also can not explain it by using reason. Which I don't think to be impossible. Words are very rough after all. They sort of deal in extremes. If an insight is in its nature so far removed from this world of words, it may become an exercise in vain to put it into words. In deed, if you tried, you'd risk loosing the actual insight by replacing it with an incomplete rational.

And I think

This is the Zen approach: nothing is there to be done. There is nothing to do. One has just to be. Have a rest and be ordinary and be natural.

demonstrates a case for that.
In my experience, I have been the most content, yes the most happy and passionate and "the best" in what I do when I - emotionally - did not make myself depend on an exterior aim that was to be fulfilled, when my purpose did rest on myself so to speak. But this explanation is not complete. I intuitively know what I mean, but it seems to me that no matter how hard I tried, I could never truly explain it. One hast to feel it.

All I was able to arrive at is that the ultimate purpose of life is by default to have a positive relationship to yourself. That is how our brain works. All our relationship to exterior factors are in the end only means to do so. However, it is easy to forget that, and to view the relationship to exterior things as self-serving. To not do so, is IMO "the Zen approach". The realization, that all the importance we attribute to external factors are only as true and fulfilling as they really match our interior. Otherwise they become irrelevant and burdensome.

But I read this explanation of mine - and I think it stinks. I failed. And I could try different angels, could try to differentiate and could go on and on. I would probably only get more confusing. Which is where the riddle appears superior as a means of explanation. Because it motivates one to find the insight in the only place it can be found: Inside of you.

The funny things, I actually have always been disgusted by this new age crap. But I am starting to be more open to approaches that primarily work on an intuitive level. In principle it makes also sense to do so, as by definition there can be nothing we care about which does not move on an intuitive level, hence rationality can offer us all the answers to how things objectively work. But it seems - at least when used by us - overburdened with the challenges posed by our self-perception. By our psyche. We seem to need to be irrational and to believe in those irrationalities. A logic of its own we can't escape.

 

[timtofly]

Where did you get this idea and who are you responding to?

The riddle says: Zen is like a man.... who is stuck in a position to fail either way. The literal meaning would be failure, but failing one's self is ultimate failure. But then again self sacrifice, if it saved others would be better, in that sense, it would not be a failure.

 

[Gatsby]

The OP's riddle might also be specifically aimed at shaking people out of binary thinking.

 

[timtofly]

So someone comes up with binary riddles to cause others to think outside the binary box?

 

[Gatsby]

So someone comes up with binary riddles to cause others to think outside the binary box?

It seems paradoxical, but yes. The riddle presents two options, both of which are portrayed as undesirable because they lead to failure. The idea of a riddle is that its answer can only be found by "thinking outside the box", and in this case the box is the binary/dualistic mentality as represented by the two undesirable choices. Zen is said to be about transcending conceptual thinking, and this riddle does that by challenging a certain type of conceptual thinking which is particularly common, i.e. binary thinking. The meta-message of the riddle seems to be that binary thinking itself is unsatisfactory as it only leads to spiritual failure at best.

 

[duckstab]

It seems paradoxical, but yes. The riddle presents two options, both of which are portrayed as undesirable because they lead to failure. The idea of a riddle is that its answer can only be found by "thinking outside the box", and in this case the box is the binary/dualistic mentality as represented by the two undesirable choices. Zen is said to be about transcending conceptual thinking, and this riddle does that by challenging a certain type of conceptual thinking whic h is particularly common, i.e. binary thinking. The meta-message of the riddle seems to be that binary thinking itself is unsatisfactory as it only leads to spiritual failure at best.

I think that's part of it, at least for some Koans. I'm not a Zen practitioner myself (though I am a Buddhist) but I think its methods are intended to guide the student towards a direct experience of enlightened mind (satori).

Koans are not usually posed in isolation. Instead, the teacher will assign the koan as a meditation object that the student will contemplate for weeks or months. Periodically the teacher will examine the student to see if their understanding has sufficiently progressed. If not, they're sent back to the zendo. Koan practice seems to involve pulling the rug out from under the student again and again, so that they begin to see the limitations of not only binary thinking, but of all concepts. It produces satori by ruthlessly stripping away everything that is not satori.

Indeed, I think a Zen master would be somewhat amused by this whole thread, because getting to a rational understanding of a koan (or koans in general) is about as far from the point as one can possibly get.

 

[Terxpahseyton]

That sounds fascinating. Like brainwashing someone until he is convinced that knowledge is irrelevant because he can't really posses it to begin with. I wonder if that really makes one feel good.