This segment is excerpted from the introduction to a yet-to-be-published manuscript of selected podcasts from 2020 forward. The working title is "Speaking with One (Zen) Voice," the "Zen" in parentheses, subtitled "25 Centuries of Buddha-Dharma; 3

Countries of Origin; 9 Dharma Masters; 2 Dozen Teachings; with Commentary by an American Zen Elder." Selections from the text are posted monthly as our new Substack column, along with my paraphrases of traditional teachings, beginning with Buddha's "First Sermon," otherwise known as "Setting in Motion the Wheel of the Law," or, more simply, "The Four Noble Truths." Check it out.

This volume represents an attempt to present Buddhist teachings selected from the vast canon of sutras (indicating direct testimony) and shastras (connoting indirect commentary) spanning some 2500 years, a quarter of a millennium, from three of Buddhism’s countries and cultures of origin — India, China, and Japan. According to scholars, the early talks delivered by Buddha himself to his followers were not written down until several centuries after his death, but were preserved through the oral tradition of chanting and memorizing his spoken teachings. But the accuracy of that transmission is not considered inferior to the later written records, for one reason that it is more difficult to change the content of an oral tradition than it is to modify written documents, either intentionally, by accident, or the ravages of time.

Another reason is that the truths of Buddhism and Zen are to be discovered in one’s own experience, primarily via the practice of the same meditation process that led to Buddha’s insight. Buddhism is, perhaps, unique amongst the Major Religions of the world, in this, its tradition of “face-to-face transmission.” Each of Buddha’s Dharma heirs — from those who were exposed to his live dialogs in India, to those who propagated Zen practice and teachings in foreign lands, and the ancestors of those  countries — were themselves beneficiaries of direct insight.

Of course, the further we go back in time, the provenance or historicity of the canon is less certain, the record from China is more documented than that of India, and that of Japan even more so, as we approach modern times. Most of the selected pieces from these later periods of the evolution of the canon are derived from the liturgy of Soto Zen, verses that are recited in monasteries and temples of today.

Speaking with one voice

The point in surveying this collection, which is merely the tip of a massive iceberg — the Pali canon, Tripitaka, or “three baskets” alone is said to comprise some 84,000 teachings — is that these great Zen forefathers were all speaking with one voice. The written texts selected by Zen’s ancestors in China and Japan to be recited on a daily basis as liturgy were obviously not casual or arbitrary choices. They come at the central truth of Buddha’s message from differing cultural and linguistic contexts, of course, but if we read between the lines, we might get a glimmer of the existential and experiential reality to which they refer, as so many fingers to the same moon.     

Let us first consider some of the underlying premises of the teachings of the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni (“sage of the Shakya clan”), which differentiate his from other teachings of a philosophical or religious nature. Let it be understood from the beginning, however, that the worldview of Buddhism — and Zen in particular — places emphasis on overarching sameness, rather than petty differences, between   people, and sentient beings in general. This inclusive attitude also applies to the other worldviews, belief systems, philosophies, and religions propounded by humankind. We who follow Buddha’s Way are not interested in proselytizing or converting, debating, or winning anyone over to our point of view by argument, nor in discrediting another’s viewpoint. As to any perceived difference between Zen and Buddhism, you are free to substitute one term for the other where mentioned in the following.

Three key distinctions where the Buddha’s teaching, usually referred to as “buddha-dharma,” or more simply, “Dharma,” differs substantively:

One: It is human-centered. 

Unlike other spiritual founders, the Buddha claimed no mandate from a god, a deity, or power outside himself; no “Wizard of Oz” behind the curtain preaching his message, other than his teachers in past lives, the so-called “prehistoric” Buddhas. Zen is all about humanity, and our place in the universe. And, for that matter, the place of all sentient beings, on the path to awakening.

According to mythical tradition, the newborn baby Buddha declared: “Above the heavens and below the heavens, I alone am the most honored one!” as he sprung forth, fully formed, from his mother’s womb. This expression, while clearly legendary, capsulizes Buddha’s view of humanity’s unique position in the scheme of things, as represented by his human birth. In today’s societal context, this might be interpreted as a form of “secular humanism,” a limited, egocentric, or anthropocentric, perspective.

On the other hand, to claim exclusive divine guidance, when the audience consists of other human beings like yourself would seem the more egocentric, closer to the height of arrogance. Think of all the things this leads to. Those claiming a direct mandate from God feel compelled to proselytize, to save all other beings, which is, ironically, the Bodhisattva Vow of Buddhism. But if the unsaved do not seek out the message themselves, the apostles bringing the gospel appear to disrespect and demean the innate spirituality of those they would save. Claiming to be already blessed, or saved themselves, they feel uniquely qualified to save others.

One stunning difference here is Buddha’s decision to attempt to teach his great discovery to others, based only on his own experience. This must have required great confidence and resolve, in that his authority to teach was not based on an established lineage, outside intervention of some “greater being,” nor on a previously existing canon or belief system.  There was no directive from on high to go forth and spread the good news. So why do it? The urge to share the “compassionate teachings” stems from “suffering with” — the very definition of compassion. No one, not even Buddha, can save another. Zen’s message and method of meditation offers a way to release oneself from one’s own ignorance.

Two: It is self-reliant. 

Buddha’s teaching emphasizes self-reliance, individual responsibility and initiative.  It is the ultimate in do-it-yourself. He teaches no-reliance on anything outside the self. We cannot rely on scripture, on beliefs, on somebody else to do this for us. 

This is where what is called “Great Doubt” arises. If we can’t rely on  anything outside ourselves,  everything we’ve always relied upon is now called into question.  If we begin to doubt everything that we’ve always felt to be dependable and sure, we come to an experience akin to that which people in earthquake or mudslide zones are said to undergo. Suddenly one day, the earth trembles, falls apart, opens up fissures and nearly swallows them up.  What they always depended upon as “terra firma,” solid earth, turns extremely fluid, not at all stable.. 

Similarly, what Buddha points to can be as unnerving, but on a spiritual level,   sometimes described as something like the earth “trembling in six dimensions,” meaning the Six Senses. When doubt — including doubt in the dharma —  becomes such that we feel as if we are “perched atop a 100-foot pole,” and we step off. It is like vertigo on steroids. “No toe-hold”— nothing to hold on to, nothing to cling to. 

With his emphasis on self-reliance, individual responsibility, and initiative, taking this on for ourselves, by his own example, Buddha established the tradition of awakening without a teacher. We can learn from living, true teachers, those who have personal insight, yes, we can rely on them not to mislead us but after their death, we have only the teachings, which we can rely on, because they hold true, anywhere and anywhen in spacetime.

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