In the Zen tradition, monks wrestle with koans. They can be confusing stories or a pithy dialog whose meaning is not clear. In the West, they are referred to as spiritual riddles but they are much more than that. These brainteasers are used to help reinforce the lessons being learned in their studies. They often do not have much meaning to me but that is because I am not part of an organized presentation of Buddhism within the Zen tradition.

The following is one of my favorite Zen stories but I am still not sure what it means. Perhaps it is an example of sudden awakening?

“Still deeply dejected, I took up my begging bowl early the next morning and went into the village below ... My mind was hard at work on my koans. It never left them. I stood before the gate of a house, my bowl in hand, lost in a kind of trance.

A voice [from within the house] yelled, ‘Go on! Go somewhere else!’ But I was so preoccupied I didn’t even notice it. This must have angered the resident of the house, because she suddenly appeared, flourishing a broom upside down in her hand. She flew at me flailing out wildly, whacking away at my head ... I was knocked down and ended heels-up on the ground. I lost consciousness and lay there like a dead man.

 As I regained consciousness, ... I found that the unsolvable and impenetrable koans I had been working on ... were completely penetrated. Right to the root. They had suddenly ceased to exist. I clapped my hands and laughed great shouts of laughter, frightening the people who had gathered around me.”[1]

 Here is an example of a koan as a short dialog.

“A monks asks Tung-shan ‘What is the Buddha?’

Tung-shan replies ‘Three pounds of hemp.’”

Perhaps this is illuminating the true nature of Buddhism as something every day, as a profound truth that can be found in the mundane.

I have always wondered what a Shin koan might sound like. Maybe I can be just as confusing and pithy within our tradition. For example, whenever a Minister Assistant is nervous about giving their first Dharma talk I always remind them that ...

“You only have to give your first Dharma talk once.”

And then I imagine a bell being rung as they realize insight. I have a vivid imagination.

I have one more example that I think is much better. Again, it is of the pithy variety.

“A member asks ‘When do we realize Shinjin?’

The minister replies, ‘After 10,000 chairs!’”

Did you hear the bell?

In the Zen tradition, these koans are never really explained by the teacher. But in Shin we always explain.

Prior to services, we always setup and organize all of the chairs. We carry in more needed chairs or put away the extra ones. Then we make sure they all line up horizontally in rows and vertically in columns. This is especially true in the Kodo.

There is also a Kodo at the Jodo Shinshu Center. “Kodo” is a multi-purpose hall. Thus, the folding chair which can be rearranged for different functions. Many, many chairs have been arranged and rearranged in that room as well. Prior to service we even use custom-made wooden fixtures to make sure every chair is perfectly aligned and evenly spaced.

I asked why we are so focused on chairs in our tradition and the answer was that the more you invest in the service prior then the more value you will receive during. In other words, the more you put into it then the more you get out of it.

For my koan, there is also the math of it. Reaching the level of one who has moved 10,000 chairs means that you have sincerely attended perhaps 1,000 services and listened to the Dharma for at least that many hours. Each time hearing Namoamidabutsu. Each time the mind is perfumed by the teachings. This is how we realize insight in the Shin tradition and how the bell rings.

Namuamidabutsu, Rev Jon Turner

[1] Wild Ivy: The Spiritual Autobiography of Zen Master Hakuin, translated by Norman Waddell (Shambhala Publications)