Richard Baker and the Myth of the Zen Roshi
Stuart Lachs, October 2002
Introduction
Most people think of Zen as being iconoclastic, anti-authoritarian, simple,
direct, and unattached. Its raison d'etre is to
produce people who possess a fundamental insight into life, people who
are not fooled by appearances or ideas. The fact is
that almost everything about Zen's presentation, practice, and rituals
is aimed at producing people who give up their good
sense with the promise of a greater gain in the future. While this is obviously
a general statement that demands further
qualification, it serves to introduce some of the basic problems to be
dealt with here. Please keep it in mind. This is not a new
idea nor is it unique to Chan/Zen. David Hume said in his Of the First
principles of Government (1758) that "Nothing appears
more surprising to those who consider human affairs with a philosophical
eye than the easiness with which the many are
governed by the few, and the implicit submission with which men resign
their own sentiments and passions to those of their
rulers." I believe that the reason for this surrender, in the case of Zen,
is clear, structural, and self-perpetuating.
What I mean by the "Zen" institution, for the simple purpose of this conversation,
is the organized set of structures that support
the standard model of Zen. According to this model, mind-to-mind transmission
began with an encounter between the
historical Buddha Sakyamuni and Mahakasyapa, and continued, in an unbroken
lineage, through twenty-eight Indian
Patriarchs. The last of these was Bodhidharma, who began the patriarchal
line in China that led to Hui-neng, traditionally
considered to be the sixth and last Chan patriarch. This scheme was later
institutionalized through the ritual of Dharma
transmission. Mind-to-mind transmission implies that the student has attained
an understanding equal to his Zen master/roshi
and so on backwards, hence being equal to the original, unmediated wordless
understanding that supposedly passed between
Sakyamuni and Mahakasyapa. Supporting tools to make this narrative seem
real and unconstructed include the particular
methods of meditation and interactions between teacher and student as well
as an abundance of validating mythologies most
often presented as history in the form of biography, along with accommodating
literary and ritual devices. It is this idealized
version of Dharma transmission that claims the master is an enlightened
being that is the source of the Zen master's
extraordinary claim to authority.
This is not to imply that there is no value to be gained in the practice
of Zen. It simply means that a power structure has
evolved that will perpetuate itself even if it means imputing "attainment"
to people who don't really have it. To legitimize the
various family lines within Zen, Zen's self-definition necessitates establishing
a continuing unbroken lineage of transmitted
masters connected to the historical Buddha. The conception of an unbroken
lineage based on the idea of mind-to-mind
transmission going back to the Buddha superceded a previous idea of authority
that was based on texts, i.e., the sutras, which
were understood to embody the words of the historical Buddha. You can see
how much more potent it is to have a teacher
presented as a living Buddha or at least Buddha-like, who, instead of simply
interpreting and explaining the words of the
Buddha, actually speaks with the same voice as the Buddha. This new Buddha
is also alive and homegrown and hence more
immediate and real. All of this authority and potency is manifested in
the rituals of the Zen master commenting on and judging
the words and actions of not only their disciples, but also of anyone in
the lineage going all the way back to and including, the
historical Buddha. It is a performance meant to confirm and display the
current master's significance, authority and attainment.
Michael Downing's book, Shoes Outside the Door: Desire, Devotion, and Excess
at San Francisco Zen Center (2001)
describes much of the sexual scandal surrounding Richard Baker, as well
as financial problems and Baker's generally arrogant
behavior. Not only is the book a compelling read; it also, more importantly
perhaps, provides raw data for observing Zen
mythmaking in action. It allows us a much closer look than we get through,
say, looking at the many biographies of past
masters from Chan in China during the Tang dynasty (CE 618-907).
Richard Baker is an extremely bright and talented person and a born salesman.
Shunryu Suzuki Roshi, shortly before his death
in December 1971, gave him Dharma transmission in the Soto sect of Zen,
thereby making Baker, for his students and for all
future people in his lineage, an authentic link to the Buddha. At that
time, Baker also became the official leader of the San
Francisco Zen Center (SFZC).
Baker is the sole western heir of Suzuki Roshi, a Japanese Zen teacher
who founded the SFZC and its mountain training
center, Tassajara established in 1967. Downing interviewed roughly eighty
people, most of them Baker's students,
approximately eighteen years after Baker was forced to resign. The San
Francisco Zen Center "scandal" was not unique in
American Zen history. In fact there are few major centers not touched by
sexual or other scandals, but the SFZC case suffices
for the discussion we will have here.
The idea of the enlightened Zen master authenticated through the ritual
of dharma transmission and maintained by an unbroken
lineage going back to the historical Buddha is at the heart of the Zen
tradition. In this scheme, each teacher can trace his
lineage and hence, authenticity, back to the historical Buddha. The implications
of this authority in some ways far outstrip that
bestowed upon the highest secular authorities, since there is the implication
that the Zen master is enlightened, a fully attained
being.
One of the most interesting aspects of the Baker case is that the people
at the SFZC did not change their fundamental
understanding of the process they had gone through for, in some cases,
twenty or more years. This is not surprising, being, as
it is, a natural result of the customs and environment created by the Zen
institution.
The Zen Institution
[Note: This section offers background mostly not covered in Downing's book.]
For some thirty years a significant group of scholars have been investigating
the development of the Chan sect in Chinese
Buddhism. They have shown us clearly that much of what has been presented
by the tradition as "history," is really a myth
created with two purposes. One was to make the state consider Chan the
primary sect of Buddhism. The other was to
establish Chan's primacy over the indigenous teachings of Confucianism
and Taoism in the eyes of the state and the elite of
society. The same myth was later used in Japan for similar purposes, with
Shintoism being the competing indigenous teaching.
Despite its iconoclastic image, Zen has in actuality been a remarkably
conservative institution throughout its history, almost
always tied to and controlled by the state and elite elements of society.
There is certainly nothing anti-authoritarian about the
notion of unbroken lineage going back to the historical Buddha. Likewise,
Dharma transmission was as much about
institutional prosperity, prestige, authority, continuity and acceptance
and control by imperial authorities as it was about notions
of enlightenment and spiritual perfection. The Zen master is a role that
stands as a representative of the entire Zen institution.
He occupies an authoritative place in East Asian cultures that have already
been imbued with a special level of hierarchy since
ancient times. It could fairly be said that what is effectively transmitted
by Dharma transmission is institutional authority, rather
than religious wisdom. However, I do not mean to imply there is no inner
spiritual content to the Zen tradition.
Dharma transmission has been awarded and is still awarded for many reasons
besides spiritual attainment. In fact, it was often
not based on spiritual attainment at all, most especially so in Japanese
Soto Zen, which is the sect of Suzuki, Baker and the
San Francisco Zen Center. In this sect, Dharma transmission is commonly
a father-son transmission ritual culminating in the
son's inheritance of the family temple. Spiritual attainment, insight into
timeless truth(s) or any other profound changes in one's
inner life play virtually no part in the majority of these Dharma transmissions
or in the every day functions of these roshis.
But the Soto sect tries to have it both ways. It allows bureaucratic transmission,
but it also uses "historical" biographies of
eminent masters presented as desireless beings, the koans, and the many
Zen stories and dialogues (mondo) to legitimize and
to enhance authority, that make clear that transmission is given because
of a deep insight into reality or spiritual attainment.
Read any of these texts of Zen, The Book of Serenity, a Soto sect koan
collection, being one prominent example, and this will
be abundantly clear.
"Hollow" transmissions such as those between father and son are incorporated
into the unbroken lineage to the Buddha. (If the
reader wants to argue that Dharma transmission in the Rinzai sect or in
the modern Sanbokyodan sect so popular in the West
matches the ideal of Zen rhetoric, please feel free to email me at my address
listed in the Notes.)
Even when Dharma transmission does reflect some level of something we may
call spiritual attainment, it is not based on the
idealized version proffered by the Zen institution: a mystical meeting
of minds between teacher and disciple sharing a timeless
truth that unvaryingly matches the minds of all teachers going back in
the lineage, through the six Chan Patriarchs in China, and
the twenty eight generations of the supposed Indian lineage going back
to the historical Buddha, and beyond. This is a
mythology of Zen, a pure fiction. The Zen institution requires the master
because he is supposedly a living example of the ideal
of Zen and, as such, represents all of its legitimacy and authority. A
large institution like Zen requires hundreds of such living
role players. This necessitates the production of virtual quotas of such
highly exalted people, while in the realm of "spiritual
attainment" it is rare to produce just one such person. Therefore, in the
living world of flesh and blood we have people with
some very limited level of attainment occupying a role that is defined
as Buddha-like, actualizing perfect freedom and
unfathomable compassion beyond the ordinary person's understanding and
hence above question. However Zen texts may
define the role, Zen masters have not been fully enlightened beings beyond
question.
In the 1960's and 70's, San Francisco Zen Center students, like most other
Zen students in the U.S.A., thoroughly accepted
(among a range of glaring historical inaccuracies) the idealistic Zen rhetoric,
including the notion that Dharma transmission is
only about spiritual attainment, that all roshis are essentially equal,
and that Zen institutions in East Asia are apolitical and
divorced from the state. It is interesting to note that these beliefs persisted
strongly even into the year 2000, roughly the time of
Downing's interviews when there had been thirty-five years of sexual and
financial scandals in the Zen community in America.
This would have led any impartial observer to question the spiritual implications
of Dharma transmission. By this time there had
also been an abundance of scholarly writing and empirical evidence exposing
much of the mythology surrounding Zen.
So why did none of Baker's students, as expressed in their interviews with
Downing, show any awareness that institutional
self-definition encouraged their idealization of Baker, which allowed,
perhaps even fostered, the occurrence of many of the
alleged abuses? No one took the opportunity to stand back and view the
entire affair from any sort of sociological,
anthropological, psychological or religious-historical perspective. Nor
did anyone even think to view the situation through the
lens of the Buddhist teachings themselves or even the particular teachings
of their beloved founder Suzuki. I think this
happened because Zen's teaching to avoid words and explanation was taken
too literally and has fostered an unfortunate
narrowing of perspective. This is also extremely disempowering which can
lead to all sorts of problems, as the SFZC case
clearly shows. With one or two exceptions, the only views expressed of
Baker's errant behavior among the Center's members
was in the context of their personal experience. I assume that Downing
would have included a broader view if he had heard it
from any of the interviewees.
In the West in general, but particularly in America, we place great importance
on each person's individuality and uniqueness
and hence on our personal experience. We seem to forget that we live with
other humans and that society is a human product
that we act upon and that acts upon us and in a sense produces us. Our
personal experience is socially constructed in dialogue
with society and with ourselves. In the case of Zen, students usually come
to the teacher with a set of preconceptions,
acquired mostly through reading, about the fully attained Zen master as
being virtually beyond their comprehension. The
historical Zen masters we have all come to know are always presented in
terms of supposedly real people, with names, dates,
and locations, and reports of purportedly real conversations and interactions
with other monks and sometimes lay people as if
there is no doubt at all that we are dealing with historical individuals.
This "history" has added weight because it is presented as biographical
fact. Practitioners are given the ultimate encouragement
of knowing that real people "attained enlightenment" and therefore so can
we. But how real is this history? Most of the
narratives of the early heroes of Chan that we have today were composed
hundreds of years after the ostensive events,
complete with verbatim accounts of the master's interaction with a disciple
presented as if a court stenographer had been
recording the entire interaction.
Interestingly, the later versions of the supposed events often have more
detail than the earlier versions, implying that we are
dealing with literary creations rather than historical biography. (See
Foulk, "Myth, Ritual, and Monastic Practice," listed in the
notes for a fuller discussion.) There are also accounts of people receiving
transmission from masters who were dead by the
time the supposed transmission took place. In short, the biographical approach
to history seems to be used because it has
intimate real-life immediacy.
Writings featured as biography in Zen are most often an idealized presentation
of how a master should perform his role rather
than the life of a real person. This is hagiography, which is necessary
for Chan's self-legitimating claims of mind-to-mind
transmission and unbroken lineage. The past generations are presented in
a saintly and exalted manner, which adds to the
prestige of the tradition as a whole, but most importantly, to the prestige
of the last name on the lineage chart, the living
teacher. In the end, both teacher and student fall prey to these fantasies.
In this regard Mr. Downing has offered an excellent
example in Richard Baker and the SFZC.
I am thankful for Michael Downing's work, which is extremely valuable.
However, it should be noted, that he let interviewees
voice any number of inaccuracies without comment. For example there was
the claim that Zen monasteries in China were self-
sufficient, which makes it seem that they were not dependent on the state
and elite elements of society and were not actively
promoting themselves to get this support and patronage. The historical
fact is that monasteries actively courted the state and
elite elements of society, depended on donations from wealthy patrons and
or the state, had tenant farmers work their often
vast donated and inherited land holdings, etc. Another error is seen in
the statement that Yasutani roshi rescinded the Dharma
transmission he gave to Philip Kapleau. In fact, Kapleau never received
Dharma transmission in the first place, so there was
nothing to rescind. There is a whole lineage built on the idea that Kapleau
had transmission. (I don't mean to say that Kapleau
is any more or less qualified to teach for receiving transmission or not,
and in fact he is one of the few major teachers not
involved with sexual or other scandal though one of his disciples did have
a major scandal.) Cases like this are important
simply because the study of Zen history has shown us the whole lineage
tradition is built so heavily on questionable written and
word-of-mouth accounts; what is said in the present will surely be repeated
long into the future.
Trouble At The San Francisco Zen Center
I believe the trouble at the San Francisco Zen Center, and at many other
prominent Zen Centers, across the country to this
day, is caused by a lack of understanding as to how the ideas of Dharma
transmission, unbroken lineage, and Zen master have
been used historically. The meaning of these terms evolved as a means of
self-definition for the Zen sect to differentiate itself
from other Buddhist sects in a way that particularly matched the Chinese
social system based on genealogy and to gain
legitimization and authenticity from the imperial powers that always maintained
tight control over Buddhism. Under the Zen
approach, the Chan masters are clearly more potent than the monastics of
other Buddhist sects, who merely explicate the
Dharma through texts, often texts that are further distanced from their
authoritative origins by the act of translation. This
imputation of power and attainment has given one Zen roshi after another
the power to abuse their position while remaining
beyond reproach. Under the Zen form of legitimization, each Zen roshi is
viewed as a saint. In the last few decades as
opposed to the past, we have had a clear personal view of the actual people
involved, Richard Baker being only one. If the
past is any indication these present teachers will be referred to as honored
patriarchs in the future.
For a peek into a period only shortly before our own, we can use Brian
Victoria's book Zen At War. Victoria describes how
the most prominent roshis from all sects of Japanese Zen interpreted Zen's
teachings to support the imperial and militaristic
goals of Japan from the early twentieth century through the end of World
War II and beyond. Before Victoria's book was
published these people, many who were influential in bringing Zen to the
west, were routinely presented as flawless examples
of Zen attainment. This has a direct bearing on the Baker story and the
way mythology continues to be constructed even in the
present.
Baker wrote an introduction to Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind, an edited collection
of Suzuki's talks, in which Baker said (p.17),
"During the Second World War he [Suzuki] was the leader of a pacifist group
in Japan." This is a very interesting piece of
"history" which is no doubt destined to be repeated. In fact, David Chadwick,
a student of both Suzuki and Baker, lent some
credence to this assertion in his 1999 book about Suzuki, Crooked Cucumber.
Nevertheless, following extensive investigation,
even Chadwick was forced to admit: "Anything Shunryu had done that could
be considered remotely antiwar he had done
before the Pacific war started" (p. 97).
Brian Victoria was so interested in the possibility of a public pacifist/anti-war
Soto monk that he contacted Suzuki's son Hoitsu
who told him: "I don't know where all of this antiwar talk comes from,
but my father and the rest of the family supported
Japan's war effort just like everyone else." (It should also be noted that
Victoria is fluent in Japanese while Baker and
Chadwick are not.) Furthermore, Chadwick told Victoria that when he (Chadwick)
had once asked Baker himself about the
basis for the claim, Baker replied that he could not remember! Perhaps
tellingly, Baker made this claim at the height of the
Vietnam War, when virtually 100% of Zen followers were opposed to the war
and hence having an anti-war/anti -government
roshi in his lineage was good currency. This story appears to be an example
of modern day creation of hagiography that will
be repeated in the future. Furthermore this creation has to be ongoing.
It will not do for future generations if there are gaps in
the line of saintly figures.
You have to ask whether Suzuki was aware of the claims made by Baker and,
if so, why he permitted them to stand without
correction. (It should be noted that Suzuki could read English.)
We see in Downing's book that it is precisely the idealized notion of Dharma
transmission that pre-empted anything that Zen
Center members saw for themselves when viewing Baker, their Dharma-transmitted
leader, at least prior to the rupture in
1983. Baker and the senior priests dismissed any questioning of Baker's
behavior or activities as a lack of insight into
enlightenment on the part of the questioner. Hence, questioning and dissent
became a shortcoming of the person expressing
such a view. At times, senior disciples needed to reassure newcomers who
questioned Baker's behavior that all was in order.
One student said that when the senior priests were questioned about some
aspects of Baker's behavior, the answer was,
"Richard has Transmission." A senior member relates in Downing's book that
Suzuki himself refused to hear criticism of Baker
by other members of the Center because, as he said, " To his [Suzuki's]
way of thinking, Dick's commitment was at another
level, so the rest of us were not in a position to criticize him." Because
the newcomers' indoctrination into Zen ideology was
incomplete, their unfortunate reliance on common sense prevented them from
viewing Baker's eccentricities as qualities of an
enlightened Zen master. Baker himself was quick to remind his flock that
he was the only American to receive Dharma
transmission from Suzuki Roshi. This reminder served an important purpose:
the Center's members viewed Suzuki's authority
as if it were a divine fiat, so that any dissent or criticism was ended.
San Francisco from the 1960's into the 1980's was considered by many to
be the freest city in America, especially when
understanding "libre" as freedom from ideological constraints. Zen Center
members did not think there was any thought control
or propaganda necessary to escape when it came to Zen. Members had not
the slightest inkling that their view of Zen was
controlled. They believed their way of living and of practicing Zen was
the best alternative available in America. People put
their hearts into the practice and the Center, sometimes going as far as
asserting that the Center represented the cutting edge of
Zen in the America. When one member was about to leave (after the Baker
scandal), rather than receiving well wishes or a
word of advice from his teacher-who happened to be the new abbot after
Baker, he was smugly told that he would be back in
a year.
It is clear from Downing's interviews that Zen Center members assumed that
there was no ideology to be questioned, i.e., the
unreliable history of Zen, the hagiographic picture of the lineage, along
with its mythology of Dharma transmission, unbroken
lineage, and enlightened Zen masters. A number of Downing's interviewees
spoke of receiving the true or pure Zen teaching
from Suzuki Roshi. It was not surprising, then, that when trouble arose
at the Center it was mostly assumed that something
must be wrong with the members themselves; that it was because they did
not use or handle well Suzuki's pure teaching. One
older student expressed it this way, "In our hands, and it was in our hands,
it [Suzuki's pure teaching] became a bludgeon of
power, a source of competition, jealousy, and paranoia. That's what we
made of it." All trouble at the Center was internalized
and personalized by its members. Institutional mythology, which created
a seamless picture of unbroken lineage along with
pure, desireless perfection and attainment housed in the body of the master,
was not questioned, and hence, remained intact.
Baker manifested his authority by giving his followers two choices: obey
his words without question or be marginalized, which
was tantamount to being forced to leave. The latter choice was too painful
for many for any number of reasons, including: 1)
many believed that the Center was the best place to practice Zen and so
leaving meant giving up what made life seem most
meaningful, 2) their self-identities as Zen practitioners were connected
to the Center, 3) loyalty to Suzuki Roshi, 4) leaving
close friendships established through communal living and especially through
practicing meditation together, 5) loving the
lifestyle and 6) fear of losing one's position in the hierarchy and the
possibility for future higher positions culminating in being
Dharma transmitted oneself. Therefore, in the need to remain at the Center,
members had a powerful incentive to fully buy into
Zen's mythology. This was especially true of people wanting to climb Zen
Center's ladder to positions of authority, power, and
prestige, which was totally dependent on Baker's sanction. There is a saying,
"It is difficult to convince a man of something if
his paycheck depends on his not understanding it." Obedience, subservience,
and discipline were well rewarded at a large
institution like the San Francisco Zen Center, as Downing's book amply
shows.
Baker and Suzuki themselves were rewarded by this system. Besides the personal
power of his position Baker lived with paid
travel, an abundance of high-priced worldly goods, a number of well-appointed
residences, a steady supply of household help
and assistants, sex with his students and access to high profile friends.
Suzuki's prestige grew enormously. He was leader of
the largest Zen center in the United States and founder of Tassajara, the
first Zen monastery in America; he sent a number of
American disciples to study in Japan and was surrounded, as was Baker,
by hundreds of devoted, unquestioning, often young
and energetic followers. But in truth, neither Suzuki nor Baker fit the
saintly mold.
Suzuki Roshi
Suzuki Roshi, the founder of the San Francisco Zen Center and its leader
until his death in 1971, was an impressive person,
sincerely loved by most all the Center's members. Baker's introduction
to Suzuki's edited words in the well known book, Zen
Mind, Beginner's Mind gives a description of Suzuki as the ideal of a fully
realized Zen master.
What the teacher really offers the student is literally living proof that
all this talk and the seemingly impossible goals can be
realized in this lifetime. The deeper you go into practice, the deeper
you find your teacher's mind is, until you finally realize that
your mind and his mind are Buddha's mind.
Baker then quotes Trudy Dixon, the editor of the book, thus endorsing her
words:
A roshi is a person who has actualized that perfect freedom which is the
potentiality for all human beings. He exists freely in the
fullness of his whole being. The flow of his consciousness is not the fixed
repetitive patterns of our usual self-centered
consciousness, but rather arises spontaneously and naturally from the actual
circumstances of the present. The results of this in
terms of the quality of his life are extraordinary-buoyancy, vigor, straightforwardness,
simplicity, humility, security, joyousness,
uncanny perspicacity and unfathomable compassion. His whole being testifies
to what it means to live in the reality of the
present. Without anything said or done, just the impact of meeting a personality
so developed can be enough to change
another's whole way of life. But in the end it is not the extraordinariness
of the teacher that perplexes, intrigues, and deepens
the student, it is the teacher's utter ordinariness.
Suzuki indeed had ordinary and even tragic circumstances in his life, as
is shown in Downing's book, who references David
Chadwick's book, Crooked Cucumber, for the following details. He was married
three times. His first wife contracted
tuberculosis and returned to her parents shortly after marriage; his second
wife was brutally murdered by an erratic, antisocial
monk whom Suzuki had retained as a temple assistant, despite contrary advise
from neighbors and colleagues. His youngest
daughter, Omi, committed suicide after spending nine years in a mental
hospital; he gave Dharma transmission to his son
Hoitsu, who did not study with him or even get on with him, but who inherited
his temple (this is standard Soto Zen
procedure); he gave, as a favor to a friend, Dharma transmission to someone
he did not know or have any contact with. He
also ran a temple virtually under the control of Japan's repressive fascist
era government. This is the sort of detail, which might
be useful to both present and future students, but it is absolutely missing
from all of the completely standard biographies of Zen
masters through the ages.
A theme repeated in Downing's interviews is Suzuki's seemingly quirky idea
of reforming Soto Zen in Japan by having his
American students go there as living examples of reform. His American students
accept this theme unquestioningly. Yet, after
Tatsugami Roshi, one of the important training teachers from Eiheji, one
of the two main Soto Zen training monasteries in
Japan, conducted only one training period at Tassajara, Zen Center's monastery
in California, Suzuki "arranged" for him not to
return because his American students were so dissatisfied.
In addition, the few American students of his who went to Japan came back
disappointed, which upset Suzuki because he
thought these students would then think less ofBuddhism. There appeared
to be a vast cultural divide between the Zen Center
students of Suzuki and Japanese Zen monks that showed itself both in America
and in Japan. Suzuki surely knew that his
fellow Japanese Soto roshi and priests would hardly accept Americans as
examples for the reform of Zen, especially in Japan.
So it is natural to ask, why did Suzuki's and Baker's students mention
this so often? And what was Suzuki's intention here? In
addition, if there were something to reform in Japanese Soto Zen, the automatic
Dharma transmission for virtually all priests,
often between father and son, would be high on the list.
Why did Baker perpetuate such a simplistic view of Suzuki? I don't know
for certain but Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind was
published in 1970, only one year before Baker himself received Dharma transmission
and the title, Zen master. Downing
reveals that by 1969 Suzuki had made it known to Baker and others at the
Center that Baker was to be his Dharma heir.
Baker's use of Dixon's words begins the description of Suzuki Roshi, with
the strange phrasing "a roshi is..." This substitutes
what is supposed to be a description of their close and beloved teacher
Suzuki Roshi, a real person, with an abstraction, "a
roshi." Yet Baker certainly knew that, at best, few if any roshi are so
fully realized. More tellingly, Baker, inserted the very
idealized description of qualities and characteristics supposedly of Suzuki
Roshi, generalized to all roshi, knowing it would
inevitably, indeed shortly, be applied to himself.
Even though the bureaucratic "transmissions" in the Soto church have nothing
to do with spiritual insight, the Soto institution
does nothing to dissuade people thinking that there is a mind-to-mind connection
between its "roshis" and the historical
Buddha. In fact, Suzuki's lineage, now and as long as the line survives,
comes through his son Hoitsu and Baker and that
unknown person. In particular, Suzuki's San Francisco Zen Center lineage
continues through his bureaucratic "transmission" to
his son Hoitsu. In time Suzuki, Baker, Hoitsu, and Unknown will blend into
that "history" of immaculate patriarchs. This is not
ancient history. Before our eyes we have a living person becoming a faceless,
a-historical person. It is a sanitized description
wherein any one roshi is replaceable by any other roshi, which is really
no person at all. There is nothing in the description that
allows someone in the future to distinguish Suzuki, Hoitsu or any of their
heirs from any of thousands of hallowed ancestors.
This formulaic collection of qualities of a Zen master, is not neutral.
The experience of legitimacy, realness and of being
believable hides the underlying power relations. This "non-person" i.e.,
a roshi, is a generic person, who supposedly is a real
member of the Buddha's family, the holder of absolute truth, whose function
besides producing an heir to keep the lineage
alive, is to wield authority: to be listened to, obeyed and bowed down
to.
And perhaps most importantly, his authority will be understood with a taken-for-granted
quality of being natural. Institutional
power, authority, hierarchy and order are, hence, accomplished through
self-censorship by the members, a more effective
method for controlling dissent and questioning than coercion by the leaders.
It was not mentioned in the interviews that Suzuki himself might be partially
responsible for the ensuing trouble. It is possible
that Suzuki had a paternal attachment to Baker. Suzuki enabled the ensuing
trouble by transmitting only to Baker to the
exclusion of other westerners, by failing to understand Baker's character,
by failing to mitigate his authority in any way, and by
failing to explain clearly the historical and common way that Dharma transmission
was and is used in Soto Zen. In not clearly
explaining the meaning, to his disciples at the SFZC, of his transmission
to Baker, while stressing that it was "real;" Suzuki
chose to perpetuate a fiction and to dishonor the trust they had given
him. His focus on having the Center grow quickly and on
reforming Soto Zen in Japan may also have contributed to the problems.
Understandably, Suzuki may not have been able to read across the Japanese-American
cultural divide and therefore not see
the character flaws of Baker that were obvious to some of his unenlightened
American students. Finally, as Suzuki apologized
to Baker for what he was going to do to him, i.e., give him and only him
Dharma transmission, Suzuki knew that all was not
right or ripe or both with Baker. Yet for reasons known only to him he
proceeded to make Baker his only American Dharma
heir. It is hard to avoid the conclusion that Suzuki, in so many ways an
admirable person, had a large hand in the problems that
followed his death.
Why should we think that Suzuki chose Baker as his only American Dharma
heir based on his level of "spiritual attainment?"
After all, the only two previous Dharma transmissions Suzuki gave, to his
son Hoitsu and to Unknown, were not based on
attainment at all. Remember the senior student who quoted Suzuki as saying,
" Dick's commitment is at another level, so the
rest of us simply were not in a position to criticize him." Interestingly,
Suzuki did not mention "spiritual attainment," but rather
commitment. This is not surprising if we remember that in Soto Zen "spiritual
attainment" is rarely a criterion for Dharma
transmission. We may however, ask, "What commitment was Suzuki referring
to?" Was Baker's commitment to Zen practice
much greater than a number of other of Suzuki's close, very committed senior
disciples? Or was it that Baker, in addition to his
commitment to Zen, was more committed to institutional growth than the
others, and importantly, was the only disciple who
possessed the necessary skills and qualities to achieve the growth; the
growth that Suzuki desired?
All of this is in the context of Suzuki, the Zen master, being a man whose
quality of life is described as: "buoyancy, vigor,
straightforwardness, simplicity, humility, security, joyousness, uncanny
perspicacity and unfathomable compassion." This is a
person without a defect, showing no self-interest, desire, interior calculation,
or a shortcoming. Yet we all know that no human
is like this. Suzuki or any other Zen master only looks this way if we
avoid looking at their real life. But that is the way that
Suzuki or Baker or any roshi is presented. And that very presentation is
the freight of the Zen machine. It means, "Don't ask.
Trust me." It is an institutional dream that needs to be analyzed using
its own description.
Zen Mind?
Richard Baker is a man who through the ritual of Dharma transmission has
been installed in the Soto Zen sect's "authentic"
unbroken lineage going back to the historical Buddha. In the future, his
name will be used as proof of authenticity for someone
else that is also claiming this authentic connection to the Buddha. This
is one reason why we are looking at his case, to see
how the system works, how it has always worked.
When it came to Baker's transmission from Suzuki, virtually all the students
interviewed by Downing assumed that it was a
"real" transmission. It was considered "real" because it came from the
saintly Suzuki and Suzuki made a point of saying it was
"real." By saying this, he was emphasizing his guarantee that the essence
of the Zen lineage resides in Baker. One student
stated it as, "The one thing that seemed unquestionable was Richard's Transmission."
It did not matter that Baker did not
appear to offer his students the "living proof that... the seemingly impossible
goal [of Zen] can be realized in this lifetime" as
Baker himself described the function of the teacher. In fact, a number
of older students who had known Baker for years left
the Zen Center when he was installed as both abbot and roshi of SFZC.
If someone attempted to question some aspect of Baker's behavior, both
Baker and senior disciples reminded them that
Baker was the only American Dharma heir of Suzuki. The senior disciples
consistently stressed that Baker's transmission was
real; it made him into a "pure vessel of the Dharma," a man of wisdom,
far beyond the questioner's obviously limited
understanding and suspicion. It was almost like a magic theater, where
if someone received Dharma transmission, and hence,
was a supposed enlightened being, he would become a different person who
could do anything he pleased. One justification
sometimes heard, glib to my ear, is that enlightenment is not about morality.
Not surprisingly, virtually 100% of the time these
breaches of morality serve the pleasure and interests of the supposed enlightened
one. It seems that Zen's emphasis on
wisdom, while giving compassion only lip service, is really about power.
It is clear that the senior members of Zen Center
surrounding Baker were well-indoctrinated vessels of Zen ideology.
As long as it was understood that Baker was the only Dharma heir of Suzuki,
it was exceedingly difficult for any one to
question Baker's behavior and style. Hence, a number of questions were
never openly raised: Was he acting in an arrogant
fashion? Had he misused confidences given to him in dokusan (a private
meeting between teacher and student pertaining to the
student's practice, an extremely important element in Zen training) for
self-serving reasons? (Downing's interviews showed that
he did.) Was he hypocritical for reprimanding his students for flirting
while he carried on numerous affairs with his female
students, including one that ruptured his best friend's marriage? Was his
lifestyle less than exemplary? Was he acting primarily
with his own self-interest in mind? What was or was not implied in Baker's
transmission from Suzuki? Was he perhaps not a
fully realized person? These and any number of other questions, complaints,
hurts or criticisms harbored by his disciples, were
not raised. In America, it is common in Zen and other communities led by
a charismatic teacher to view events that could
generate questions such as these not as real life-problems, but as "skillful
means" employed to convey the essence of "the
teaching." I have seen such a view expressed in four other major Zen communities
as well as in a Tibetan community.
It is fashionable among practitioners in the West to consider critical
thought as "un-Zen." With this view in place, the entire
spectrum of permissible thought is now caught and limited within Zen's
mythological presentation, which was a completed
creation by the eleventh century in China. Analysis or active use of "the
discriminating mind" is frowned upon, or worse, it is
viewed as a sign of having too large an ego. Any genuine interpretation
or questioning of the meaning of Dharma transmission,
lineage, the Zen roshi, their place in the institution, their accountability,
and so on is made to seem absurd. The idea and ritual
of Dharma transmission rather than the meaning or content of that transmission,
becomes the prominent and meaningful fact.
Zen elevates its leaders to super-human status, then emphasizes that we
should be obedient and subservient to a powerful and
supremely accomplished authority figure, precisely because he is powerful
and supremely accomplished. Is it any wonder that
the inevitable abuses that we have seen for the last thirty years should
follow?
Zen Center Members
San Francisco Zen Center practitioners did make a serious commitment to
their practice. A theme repeated throughout
Downing's book is Suzuki's injunction to "just sit," which means to do
seated meditation. It is mentioned often enough that
Downing, interestingly calculates the hours that individual senior members
had meditated. By the seventies he calculates
10-15,000 hours and that by 1987 the most senior practitioners had each
meditated some 20- 25,000 hours on the cushion.
With this investment it is understandable that one might not want to question
too closely the teacher's behavior. It should be
kept in mind that the senior members, by 1982, were often over forty years
old and had been practicing at Zen Center for
fifteen or more years. Besides Suzuki's chosen heir Baker's questionable
behavior, Downing reveals many of the senior people
scrambling for positions of authority, power, money and perks.
Some of the most senior members appeared afraid to raise difficult questions
with Baker perhaps for fear of losing their own
privileged positions. One student expressed it as, "some of the senior
priests were in it for a payoff-Transmission," another
stated it as, "They were ambitious, and only Richard could give it [transmission]
to them, because he was the only one who
had it." One of the oldest and perhaps most outspoken members who was eventually
forced out by Baker stated, "this was a
system that was about staying asleep because it was too risky to wake up."
Newcomers naturally looked to senior priests as
guides or friends, but in doing so, they may have been mistaken. It was
like a "game" of Zen where if any one speaks out or
asks the wrong question, the "game" is ruined or finished, at least for
that person. Senior members also appeared blind to the
voices of others and closed to criticism.
There was a widespread conceit in their thinking that they were the center
or "cutting edge" of Zen in America, not cognizant
that many other Zen groups were forming city/country Centers and also experimenting
with the ideas of setting up monasteries,
group practice, communal living and forming a sangha. Downing shows that
even in their every day negotiations for used
restaurant equipment when they were opening Green's Restaurant, they held
a disproportionate sense of their own importance
in the wider community. The senior members blindly and unquestioningly
bought into Zen's mythology and Baker's
transmission being above and beyond question. As is common among members
of new religions, they viewed themselves as
special. One has to ask if something is not missing in Suzuki's simple
prescription to "just sit?" Unfortunately, this issue is not
raised or considered by any of the Zen Center members interviewed in the
book. It is noted that after 1983 the study of
sutras, Zen texts and history was instituted. But, given that no one interviewed
in the book expressed any view outside of the
standard Zen model, one may ask, was the Zen history taught at the Zen
Center just more of Zen legend?
I too was a member of a Zen center where we also felt that our group and
style of practice were in some ways unique. The
issue here is not how individual students behave foolishly or even in a
self-serving way, it is the admonition to "just sit" - even
for twenty thousand hours - is no guarantee against foolishness or delusion.
The admonition to "just sit," to "just practice," is
one more way in which trust in one's discriminating faculties or any other
Buddhist practice are cut off. In reality it means,
"don't question, don't look!"
It is important to remember now that the interviews Downing conducted in
1998-2000 were long after the events at the SFZC
took place. People interviewed had the luxury of hindsight. Despite this,
few people interviewed seemed to be aware that by
continually repeating the transmission story without reflection and without
making the effort to understand what they were part
of, they were in fact becoming an integral component in the creation of
a new myth-which was then used by people like
Richard Baker. San Francisco Zen Center students and other students throughout
history were also one cause of the problem.
The student who enters the "practice" having read a myth will expect to
find the myth, and will think they have found the myth.
What they really found is another story of flawed human behavior.
Baker Sums It Up
In 1989, some six years after Baker was forced to leave, he threatened
to take back Zen Center by going to court. Baker
claimed the Center was "denying 2,500 years of how Buddhism was developed
and continued..." He made a number of other
historically inaccurate claims, and finally dropped the suit saying that
he was pressured to institute the threat by a lawyer
student of his: "There was a lawyer who kept bugging me." Baker also claimed
that he was trying "to protect Suzuki Roshi's
legacy and lineage." Downing quotes a prominent older student who expressed
it differently, "Dick tried to take over Zen
Center again." The suit cost the SFZC $35,000 to $40,000 in legal fees
at a time when it was under financial pressure.
While leader of the SFZC, Baker's purchase of a new white BMW became a
focal point for much of the anger and
resentments that Zen Center members felt towards him. At the time of the
purchase, Baker claimed he needed so expensive a
car because of the amount of driving he did. "It was a fantastic drive,"
he said, it was safe to drive and that he liked to keep his
legs in zazen posture. Baker adds he was "on a roll," was in love with
his latest girlfriend and that his peers, est founder
Werner Erhard and the well known Tibetan teacher Trungpa, had chauffeurs
and large Mercedes, so "I thought I should buy a
car." During his interview with Downing, Baker Roshi explains that having
a "nice car," girlfriends and going out to dinner were
implementations of Suzuki Roshi's commitment to lay practice.
Not what the holy man is but what he signifies in the eyes of those who
are not holy gives him his world- historical value. It is
because one was wrong about him, because one misinterpreted the states
of his soul and drew as sharp a line as is possible
between oneself and him, as if he were something utterly incomparable and
strangely superhuman-that he gained that
extraordinary power with which he could dominate the imagination of whole
peoples and ages.
---Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human (1878)
Bibliographical Notes
Introduction
I welcome any comments from the reader. Please send to slachs@worldnet.att.net.
For a very fine book review of Shoes Outside the Door, see Crews, Frederick,
"Zen & the Art of Success," The New York
Review of Books, 28 Mar. 2002: 8-11.
I have been involved with Zen in America for over thirty years during which
time there have been many upheavals and
problems, some similar to the Baker case described in Michael Downing's,
Shoes Outside The Door, others more subtle and
less obvious in nature. A good part of the goal of Buddhism is to reduce
illusion and suffering. One component of Buddhism is
to recognize cause and effect. Yet, I have found that within the Zen community
there is little self-examination about Zen as an
institution and its self-definitions and what the effects of these are
in the world of flesh and blood people. In Downing's book
we see that much illusion, suffering and pain has been part of Zen in San
Francisco, a situation that, unfortunately, has been
repeated in most every other part of America over a thirty-five year period.
Others have told me that my view, informed by
historical scholarship (as opposed to Zen's own fictional history), sociology,
political and social analysis as well as long
personal involvement, has been helpful in clarifying some of the illusion
and in reducing some of the pain. I hope this is the case
with this paper. Peter L. Berger, the well- known American sociologist
writes, "Unlike puppets, we have the possibility of
stopping in our movements, looking up and perceiving the machinery by which
we have been moved. In this act lies the first
step towards freedom."
This article is not saying that there is no place for a Zen teacher. As
in any field, there is a need for experienced and
knowledgeable teachers. However, crediting a teacher, by definition of
their role or title, with exalted qualities he does not
really possess, is begging for trouble. A Zen teacher can certainly assist
his students in their practice, can encourage the
students to be diligent, guide their meditation practice in both public
and private meetings, offer aid in difficult times, talk about
Zen texts to enrich the student's sense of the tradition and explicate
Buddhist and Zen ideas. Importantly, teachers can inspire
followers by setting a living example through interactions with their students
and others and, with the conduct of their own life,
demonstrate that Zen practice can make one a wiser and more compassionate
human being. In addition, as there are other
practitioners around the teacher, it is helpful to be part of a community
of fellow practitioners.
Baker's case took place within a certain context, and to understand what
happened it is helpful to look not only at Baker, but
also at Zen institutional self-definitions and the patterns of social life
they have engendered in the United States. Until one
begins to view religious institutions as institutions that function in
a particular context, subject to the same problematic power
relationships as secular institutions, problems such as those that arose
at the San Francisco Zen Center and Buddhist
organizations across the West will be almost inevitable. The current crisis
in the Catholic Church proves the need for such an
institutional analysis. Public opinion shows that while parishioners are,
of course, disturbed by priests' abuse of children and
young teens, they are more upset by the institutional cover up and denial
of that behavior. The Church hierarchy has displayed
a consistent concern for protecting and maintaining the eminence of the
abusive priests and the holiness of the institution of the
Catholic Church, rather than concern for the children and teenagers trusted
to their care.
My view of Zen as an institution, some of its problems, and how it operates
is most completely expressed in my paper,
"Means of Authorization: Establishing Hierarchy in Zen Buddhism in America",
delivered as part of a panel on Chan at the
American Academy of Religion Conference in Boston in 1999. It is available
on the internet at
http://www2.h-net.msu.edu/~buddhism/aar-bs/1999/lachs.htm (here you can
also access the other papers from the panel on
Ch'an ) or at http://www.darkzen.com/Articles/meansofauthorization.htm
(one can also find other essays on Zen at this site).
This paper can also serve the non-scholar as an overview or introduction
to modern Zen scholarship and introduce a critical
view of the important Zen ideas of master, Dharma transmission, and unbroken
lineage.
Not only the work of Zen writers, but political analysts, social critics,
sociologists, and my involvement with the practice have
informed my thinking about the state of contemporary Zen in the West. I
have found the work of the following social analysts
to be especially illuminating: Peter L. Berger, Pierre Bourdieu, Noam Chomsky,
Edward Herman, David C. Korten, Thomas
Lukach, Howard Zinn and Angela Zito.
In particular, Berger, Peter,L. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociological
Theory of Religion, Doubleday, 1967, pp.
3-101 applies the social construction of reality theory to religion. Berger
begins, "Every human society is an enterprise of
world-building. Religion occupies a distinctive place in this enterprise."
Ironically, what follows is in many ways a religious text.
I highly recommend this book, especially the first 101 pages.
I am also thankful to Mark Baldwin, Sandra Eisenstein, Simeon Gallu, Grace
Luddy, Kevin Matthews, Bruce Rickenbacher
and Marlene Swartz for many hours of discussion, helpful suggestions, and
editorial assistance.
The Zen Institution
There is a wealth of contemporary exciting Zen scholarship available in
English.
I am greatly indebted to the works of the following scholars, among others,
whose
critical insights into Zen/Buddhism have strongly influenced my views:
Robert Buswell, Alan Cole, Bernard Faure, T. Griffith
Foulk, Robert M. Gimello, Peter N. Gregory, John Kieschnick, John R. McRae,
A. Charles Muller, Mario Poceski, Robert
H. Sharf, Morten Schlutter, Gregory Schopen, Brian Victoria, Albert Welter
and Dale Wright. Examining the work of any of
the above-mentioned scholars will greatly reward the interested reader
who would like to explore contemporary Zen/Buddhist
scholarship.
A good place to begin to examine the scholarly view of early Chan history
and development is Foulk, T. Griffith, Myth, Ritual,
and Monastic Practice in Sung Ch'an Buddhism in, Religion and Society in
T'ang and Sung China, Ed by Patricia Buckley
Ebrey and Peter N. Gregory, University of Hawaii Press, 1993, pp147-205.
To see how the most prominent Japanese Zen roshi as well as some of the
roshi associated with bringing Zen to America, in
spite of the rhetoric of the standard model of Zen, functioned in Japan
from roughly 1911 through WWII, see Victoria, Brian,
Zen At War , Weatherhill, 1997. Also see his Zen War Stories to be published
December 2002. Unfortunately, the Western
Zen community has not explored the many important questions implied by
Zen At War. There was an article and follow up
piece by Brian Victoria discussing anti-Semitic remarks made by Yasutani
roshi in Tricycle magazine (Fall and Winter 1999).
An interesting debate between Victoria and members of the Deshimaru group
(A.Z.I.) defending Deshimaru's teacher Sawaki
roshi's wartime involvement dating from 1905 through WWII is available
on the internet at,
http://www.zen-azi.org/html/guerre_e.html#replybyb. This group is by far
the largest Zen group in France and is active in the
U.S.A. as well as in other parts of Europe.
For a many sided view of the Zen koan see, The Koan, Ed. by Steven Heine
and Dale S. Wright, Oxford University Press,
2000. A special note is given to the papers of Heine, Wright, Foulk, McRae,
Welter, Schlutter, Michel Mohr and Ishii
Shudo,.
For a most interesting examination of early Chan lineage and truth claims
read from a critical textual analysis rather than
reading them "for information about Truth and Practice" or about "historical
claims to own truth", see Cole, Alan, "It's All in the
Framing", a paper given at U.C. Berkeley, March 17th, 2002. Cole, who teaches
at Lewis and Clark College, also has two
very provocative books soon to be published, one on the Mahayana sutras
and the other on early Chan texts and the "birth" of
Chinese Buddhas.
That Kapleau never received Dharma transmission was exposed in a public
letter from Yamada roshi dated,1/16/86. Koun
Yamada was Yasutani roshi's Dharma heir. He became the leader of the Sanbokyodan
school of Zen started by Yasutani.
Also see the public letter from Mr. Kapleau toYamada, dated 2/17/86. I
have copies of these letters. If some one would like
copies, please email me at: slachs@worldnet.att.net .
For an outstanding article on Sanbokyodan Zen, a Zen sect important in
the West see, Sharf, Robert, "Sanbokyodan, Zen and
the Way of New Religions", Japanese Journal of Religious Studies, Fall
1995, Vol. 22, no.3-4. Yamada gave Dharma
transmission to Robert Aitkin, though Aitkin and his Diamond Sangha later
separated from the Sanbokyodan organization after
Yamada's death. This was because Aitkin, being a foreigner, was forbidden
by the new leader Kubota Roshi, from giving
Dharma transmission, while Japanese of equal standing in the organization
were permitted this privilege (p.451).
Trouble At the San Francisco Zen Center
For an important look at Buddhist biography and hagiography though not
especially Chan, the reader may look at Kieschnick,
John, The Eminent Monk, University of Hawaii Press, 1997. In some of these
biographies, people later classified as Chan
monks were listed in other categories, such as Master Yantou Huo as an
ascetic and Master Xingzhi as a benefactor. In one
well-known collection, the famous Grand Master Yunmen is not recorded at
all. Institutional and personal motives played an
important part in the composing of Buddhist biographical collections; this
was especially so in earl Chan lineage texts.
For a look at how religious fantasies may cause trouble, especially with
leaders, see "Religion and Alienation" in Berger, Peter
L., The Sacred Canopy, pp, 81-101. From the perspective of power and control,
the political and the religious spheres
overlap. For a view from the political perspective that has application
in the religious arena see Edwards, David, "A Chest of
Tools for Intellectual Self-Defense" in Burning All Illusions, South End
Press, pp.177-224.
Suzuki Roshi
For Suzuki Roshi's edited words see the well-known Zen Mind, Beginner's
Mind, Weatherhill, 1970. Also see, Brown,
Edward Espe, Not Always So: Practicing the True Spirit of Zen, Harper Collins,
2002, Branching Streams Flow in the
Darkness: Zen Talks on the Sandokai, Ed. Mel Weitsman and Michael Wenger,
University of California Press,1999 and for a
biography of Suzuki's life see, Chadwick, David, Crooked Cucumber: The
Life and Zen Teaching of Shunyru Suzuki,
Broadway Books, 1999.
For more on the Soto Zen institution in Japan see Foulk, T. Griffith, "The
Zen Institute in Modern Japan", pp.157-177, Zen,
Tradition and Transition, Kenneth Kraft ed., NY, Grove Press, 1988. For
a history of early Soto Zen as well as how the Soto
sect has understood Dharma transmission since roughly 1700, see Bodiford,
William M., Soto Zen in Medieval Japan,
University of Hawaii Press, 1993, p. 215. "Zen Dharma transmission between
master and disciple could occur whether or not
the disciple had realized enlightenment, just so long as the ritual of
personal initiation had been performed."
For an analysis of the idealized, one-dimensional style of describing a
roshi, the one of Suzuki in Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind
being just one contemporary example, see "Simpleness" in Alan Cole's previously
mentioned paper, "It's All in the Framing",
p.6.
Also see his forthcoming book on early Chan texts for a unique dissection
of early lineage claims and their supporting texts .
For an analysis of the inherent power relations in the one-dimensional
description of a roshi and how it is taken for being
natural, see "Symbolic Violence and Social Reproduction" and "Uses of Language"
in, Jenkins, Richard, Pierre Bourdieu,
Routledge, 1992, pp.103-110 and pp.152-162 respectively. Also see, The
Sociology of Georg Simmel, Trans.and Ed. By
Kurt Wolff, Free Press Paperback, 1950 for a discussion of authority, prestige,
subordination, and sociability.
Suzuki's prescription to "just sit" as a kind of medicine to answer all
questions and problems apparently did not apply to his
Dharma transmitted son Hoitsu. While in Japan looking to set up a practice
place for Zen Center members, Baker wrote, "we
should make clear to him [Hoitsu] that he is not expected at all to participate
in the practice, least of all as head... He does not
sit zazen and only chants when he has a service to do for someone." Downing
adds, "Suzuki reminded Richard [Baker] that
Hoitsu had a family and two children. Did it not occur to him that Richard
had a family, too, as did many of the priests of Zen
Center?" Shoes Outside The Door, p.135. It is interesting to keep in mind
that Suzuki's lineage is alive today at the San
Francisco Zen Center because of transmissions through Hoitsu.
It was also mentioned that Suzuki believed that Dharma transmission must
be "real", implying that there is "not real" Dharma
transmission. Though these themes are mentioned a number of times by students,
it seems curious that in Downing's interviews,
no one ever questioned what this meant, no one mentioned what Suzuki meant,
why Baker's transmission was supposedly real
or if Suzuki or Baker ever explained the difference between "real" and
unreal transmissions.
Soto temples in Japan often are a family business, handed down from father
to son, as Suzuki himself had done with his son
Hoitsu. Importantly, the head of every Soto temple must have Dharma transmission.
Hence, roughly 95% of all Soto priests in
Japan have Dharma transmission, most receiving it after spending at most
three years in a monastery, some with as little as six
months. Foulk, T. Griffith, "The Zen Institute in Modern Japan", pp.157-177.
In the latter part of the book, Downing points out that the San Francisco
Zen Center has beaucratized Dharma transmission so
that in order to receive Dharma transmission a person must spend ten or
twelve years going through the system. This is very
similar to the Japanese Soto Zen, with minor variances for social and cultural
differences. Ironically, one may ask, is that what
Suzuki hoped to reform? If this was the case, it would seem that he failed
this task in America.
Zen Mind?
The idea that Zen's emphasis on wisdom while only giving lip service to
compassion in reality is then about power is an idea
that I have just begun to examine. Having wisdom, in the Zen view, is based
on Dharma transmission, which implies that the
person is an enlightened being. More commonly it is bestowed or given by
a teacher to some one with limited attainment in
order to keep his lineage alive. However, this supposed wisdom is beyond
words, is not understood by the unenlightened who
are then not qualified to judge or evaluate it, whether expressed in the
words or in the behavior of the wise one. The supposed
enlightened Master gets the last word in judging not only the student's
behavior and verbal responses, but also the whole of the
past enlightened lineage including the historical Buddha by commenting
on and judging any and all of the past Masters in the
old cases (koan) and in their recorded sayings.
Michel Foucault in "The Means of Correct Training" in Discipline and Punish,
Trans. Alan Sherman, Vintage Books, 1995
(reprint edition), 1995, pp.170-195 discusses a number of aspects of the
penal system, its disciplinary power and the simple
instruments from which it derives its power: hierarchical observation,
normalizing judgment, and their combination-the
examination. He writes, " The perfect disciplinary apparatus would make
it possible for a single gaze to see everything
constantly." The Zen understanding of wisdom imputes Foucault's "single
gaze to see everything constantly" to the Master. It is
common talk around Zen Centers to hear that the Master can tell your state
of mind just in hearing your footsteps in going to
sanzen/dokusan, in simply seeing you in any activity, seeing you with a
single glance, or in the most idealized version, "he just
knows from a distance!"
Zen Center Members
What passes for "knowledge" in society is built on the foundation of language.
Zen Center members accepted and internalized
most all of Zen's self definitions, history and social forms. Zen's highly
ritualized activities added a visceral instantiation to the
cognitive edifice. Members along with Baker literally built their world
based on the language and view of Zen accompanied by
ritualized behavior that added to the sense of being embedded in and being
an active participant of that sacred world. One
member quoted Baker as saying, "I always act from pure motives; I never
worry about the world." Shoes Outside The Door,
p.237. This is the consistent view of the master presented by Zen, the
pure, simple, desireless and self-contained roshi, and
was accepted unquestioningly by Zen Center members. At the same time, this
supposed desireless image of the roshi is meant
to invoke desire in us for him. See Alan Cole, "It's All in the Framing."
Under Baker's leadership, it appears that the Center functioned as a dysfunctional
family, denying that anything was wrong or
problematic. As noted in the paper, senior members consistently reassured
newer members that all was well when they raised
questions about Baker's activities. Interestingly, one of the oldest members
of Zen Center, a psychologist, did an "informal
poll" of people who had been at Zen Center for more than eight years. "Something
above ninety percent of us had come from
alcoholic families or families that were dysfunctional with the same patterns."
Shoes Outside The Door, p.289.
Baker Sums It Up
For an earlier view of the immediate events surrounding Baker, see Butler,
Katy, "Events Are The Teachers", The
CoEvolution Quarterly, winter 1983, pp.112-123.
Baker claimed that the Center, in evicting him, was "denying 2,500 years
of how Buddhism was developed and continued..."
However, Baker's sleight of hand replaces Buddhism's 2,500-year tradition
with Zen's fictional account of unbroken lineage
going back to the Buddha. Zen is a Chinese invention roughly beginning
in the seventh or eighth century of this era.
Some Zen followers believe that Zen is only concerned with enlightenment
and is not concerned with personal behavior or with
ordinary morality. However, for an in depth review of early Chan monastic
codes and how early Chan viewed and supposedly
treated errant behavior by monks see Foulk, T. Griffith, "The "Ch'an School"
and Its Place In the Buddhist Monastic
Tradition," Diss. University of Michigan, 1987. This dissertation also
asks whether the Chan sect existed at all as a separate
and distinct sect in the Tang dynasty, the supposed "golden age of Chan").
Foulk doubts that the Chan sect existed as a
separate sect with its own monastic institutions during the Tang dynasty.
"To sum up the situation, we have no sources at all
from the T'ang which mentions or describe explicitly "Chan" institutions,"
p. 267.
Zen ascribes to Pai-chang (died 814) its earliest monastic code that supposedly
set Chan apart as a separate sect in the Tang
dynasty. However, there is no surviving text of Pai-chang's Rules. One
of the earliest texts extant is "Regulations of the Chan
Approach" (Ch'an men Kuei-shih, which cannot be dated earlier than 988)
that some scholars think was the preface to
Pai-chang's Rules. Foulk disagrees with this view. Foulk gives translations
of two versions of the text, side by side and
analyses their internal structure and contents. pp.347-379. "It is, basically,
a description of a number of monastic procedures
implicitly attributed to Pai-chang, set in a quasi-historical context,
and presented with the authors own explanation and
laudatory remarks."