Urs App

Urs App

Urs App, PhD, is a Swiss scholar of Buddhism and religious studies, specializing in Zen. He was, for many years, professor of Buddhism at Hanazono University in Kyoto and Associate Director of the International Research Institute for Zen Buddhism. He has since devoted himself to writing books and producing documentaries while engaging in research at various academic institutions in Asia and Europe.

Urs App

Urs App, PhD, is a Swiss scholar of Buddhism and religious studies, specializing in Zen. He was, for many years, professor of Buddhism at Hanazono University in Kyoto and Associate Director of the International Research Institute for Zen Buddhism. He has since devoted himself to writing books and producing documentaries while engaging in research at various academic institutions in Asia and Europe.

1 Item

Set Ascending Direction
per page

1 Item

Set Ascending Direction
per page

GUIDES

A Brief History of Chan | An Excerpt from Zen Master Yunmen

Yunmen in Context

Yunmen

Setting the Stage for Chan

Long before Buddhism arrived in China around the beginning of the Common Era, Chinese thinkers taught ideas whose orientation was of striking similarity to some central tenets of that foreign religion that had yet to arrive. These teachings, ascribed to the ancient sages Laozi (Lao-tzu) and Zhuangzi (Chuangtzu), are often called “philosophical Daoism,” and originated in China between the fourth and second centuries before the Common Era. They not only contain a fundamental expression of the wisdom of the Chinese and their view of humanity— its beauty, its problematic sides, and its ideals—but are also great works of literary art whose imagery and terminology exerted an unmistakable influence on later religious and philosophical teachings.

In particular, the writings of Zhuangzi, the author of parts of a classic of the same name, and of his followers were to play an important role in facilitating the introduction and acculturation of Buddhism in China some centuries later. Many of Zhuangzi’s stories exude a kind of down-to-earth spirituality that is very similar to that found a thousand years later in Chinese Zen (Chan) texts. For example:

Duke Huan was in his hall reading a book. The wheelwright P’ien, who was in the yard below chiseling a wheel, laid down his mallet and chisel, stepped up into the hall, and said to Duke Huan, “This book Your Grace is reading— may I venture to ask whose words are in it?”

“The words of sages,” said the duke.

“Are the sages still alive?”

“Dead long ago,” said the duke.

“In that case, what you are reading there is nothing but the chaff and dregs of the men of old!”

“Since when does a wheelwright have permission to comment on the books I read?” said Duke Huan. “If you have some explanation, well and good. If not, it’s your life!”

Wheelwright P’ien said, “I look at it from the point of view of my own work. When I chisel a wheel, if the blows of the mallet are too gentle, the chisel slides and won’t take hold. But if they’re too hard, it bites in and won’t budge. Not too gentle, not too hard—you can get it in your hand and feel it in your mind. You can’t put it into words, and yet there’s a knack to it somehow. I can’t teach it to my son, and he can’t learn it from me. So I’ve gone along for seventy years and at my age I’m still chiseling wheels. When the men of old died, they took with them the things that couldn’t be handed down. So what you are reading there must be nothing but the chaff and the dregs of the men of old."

Such currents of thought had already existed in China for several centuries when Buddhism was gradually imported to China by people traveling the Silk Road. As in many other religions, images or icons initially played a much more important role than texts written in foreign languages. However, beginning in the third century an increasing number of Sanskrit Buddhist scriptures were translated into Chinese. These translations made ample use of terms coined by Zhuangzi and Laozi as well as by their heirs and commentators. The translation process, however, was not limited to the words in scriptures. Rather, the whole Indian religion was given a Chinese face, not unlike the Buddha statues whose facial features gradually changed from Indo-European large noses and eyes to their Chinese equivalents. By the sixth century there were already several forms of Buddhism that were unmistakably Chinese in character. Among them grew the movement that will primarily concern us here: Chan Buddhism.

Meditation was also an important aspect of Chinese Buddhism from an early period, and several noted teachers and texts placed a strong emphasis on meditative concentration. The Sanskrit term for such concentration was dhyāna; imitating the sound of this word, the Chinese called it “Chan,” using the Chinese character that the Japanese came to pronounce as “Zen,” the Koreans as “Sŏn,” and the Vietnamese as “Thiền.”

Chinese Buddhist Meditation

The Chan movement did not shoot out of the Chinese ground like a bamboo stalk during the rainy season; rather, it grew gradually from soil that had been formed during centuries of extensive adaptation of doctrine and practice to the conditions of China. In the first few centuries, Chinese Buddhist nuns and monks engaged in activities such as building  doctrine and rules of monastic discipline, and performing feats of magic. Meditation was also an important aspect of Chinese Buddhism from an early period, and several noted teachers and texts placed a strong emphasis on meditative concentration. The Sanskrit term for such concentration was dhyāna; imitating the sound of this word, the Chinese called it “Chan,” using the Chinese character that the Japanese came to pronounce as “Zen,” the Koreans as “Sŏn,” and the Vietnamese as “Thiền.” The eminent scholar-monk Daoan (312–385), for instance, outlined in one of his prefaces the meditative process that leads from the counting of breaths to a state of pure awareness. The early popularity of meditation practices was in part due to the belief that through such practices various magical powers could be acquired. Thus centuries before we can discern the movement we now label Chan Buddhism, there were numerous monks with meditative (“Chan”) interests gathering around teachers who appeared to have actualized what the texts explain and who concentrated their efforts on leading their students in the same direction.

Recent research shows that the early phase of Chan did not proceed as smoothly as later authors would make us believe; rather, it appears as a period marked by numerous controversies of doctrinal and personal nature. The best known of these disputes divided Chan adherents in the so-called Northern (“gradual awakening”) and Southern (“immediate awakening”) factions.

Early Chan

After the first adaptation and translation phase of Indian Buddhism in China (second to fifth centuries) and the gradual formation of meditative circles belonging to various schools of Chinese Buddhism, the movement we now call Chan emerges as an identifiable entity around the seventh century of the Common Era. Stories by later authors assert that the Chan tradition had been founded in the fifth or sixth century by the Indian monk Bodhidharma, whose teachings are said to have been handed down through a succession of patriarchs to the sixth and most famous one: Huineng, the purported author of the Platform Sutra. Recent research shows that the early phase of Chan did not proceed as smoothly as later authors would make us believe; rather, it appears as a period marked by numerous controversies of doctrinal and personal nature. The best known of these disputes divided Chan adherents in the so-called Northern (“gradual awakening”) and Southern (“immediate awakening”) factions. Some themes that were discussed gained broader attention; the sudden/gradual controversy, for example, stood also at the center of the “Council of Tibet,” a famous public controversy at the end of the eighth century involving representatives of early Chinese Chan and Indian Buddhism.

Professor Seizan Yanagida, who after World War II almost single-handedly rewrote the history of early Chan, has pointed out that masters in the sixth to eighth centuries still discussed the nature of Buddhist awakening much in the words of the sutras or holy scriptures of Buddhism scriptures that were thought to reproduce the actual words of the historical Buddha. But gradually more and more importance was given to the words of Chinese masters who had actualized the spirit of these scriptures in themselves—people who had themselves become buddhas, or “awakened ones.” These masters used simple words to explain the essence of awakening and responded in like manner to concrete questions about its realization.

Although the Chan movement did not yet have a clearly discernible monastic organization, its teachings and teaching methods with time became remarkably different from those of other sects. The widespread emergence of illustrious and original Chan teachers marks the onset of the “classical” age of Chan (eighth to tenth centuries) toward whose end Yunmen lived.

The Classical Age of Chan

Around the end of the eighth century a number of masters taught what they took to be the essence of Buddhism in a startlingly direct and fresh way. In examining the sources we have from this period, we notice an extraordinary change in the way masters related to their students and vice versa. Few quotes from scriptures appeared in talks by these masters; instead of repeating the words of the historically remote Buddha or commenting on them, these masters themselves spoke, here and now—and they were not beyond whacking and swearing if the need arose. In place of doctrinal hairsplitting, they demonstrate the teachings in action: shouting and joking, telling stories, and handing out abuse or encouragement as they see fit. The unctuous style of Buddhist sermons and learned scholastic exegesis gave way to colloquialisms and slang: the masters of the classic age of Chan talk so bluntly that to some people their talks must at the outset have been hardly identifiable as Buddhist.

The great majority of Chan’s most famous masters, including Mazu, Linji, and Zhaozhou, lived during the two centuries before the turn of the millennium. Master Yunmen is the last Chan teacher of this classical period who rose to great fame.

Instead of learned discussions about this or that doctrinal problem of the past, the masters and their students aim directly at the one thing they consider essential: being a buddha oneself, right here and now. In the following example from a classical Chan record, we see Master Linji simply repeating a question of a student, whereupon the student resorts to a physical action that seeks to show that the master is not really an awakened teacher. However, the master quickly gets the better of the questioner. Characteristically, he does this not by asking him a complicated question about Buddhist doctrine but rather by a completely unexpected inquiry about the questioner’s well-being:

One day Lin-chi went to Ho-fu. Counselor Wang the Prefectural Governor requested the Master to take the high seat. At that time Ma-yü came forward and asked, “The Great Compassionate One has a thousand hands and a thousand eyes. Which is the true eye?” The Master said: “The Great Compassionate One has a thousand hands and a thousand eyes. Which is the true eye? Speak, speak!” Ma-yü pulled the Master down off the high seat and sat on it himself. Coming up to him, the Master said: “How are you doing?” Ma-yü hesitated. The Master, in his turn, pulled Ma-yü off the high seat and sat upon it himself. Ma-yü went out. The Master stepped down.

Most of what we know about the teachings of this classic age of Chan stems from later compendia containing biographies and samples of teachings and from the collected sayings of various masters. Such sayings were often recorded by the masters’ disciples and went through the hands of a number of compilers and editors. The instructions and dialogues that are translated in this volume come from a typical example of the “recorded sayings” genre, the Record of Yunmen.

The great majority of Chan’s most famous masters, including Mazu, Linji, and Zhaozhou, lived during the two centuries before the turn of the millennium. Master Yunmen is the last Chan teacher of this classical period who rose to great fame. These teachers and their disciples form the classic core of the Chan tradition within the whole of Chinese Buddhism. The records and compendia of this time are also classic in the sense that they functioned as both the main source and the reference point of Chan teaching ever since, even in Korea, Japan, and now the West. Today’s Chan, Sŏn, and Zen masters constantly refer to their Chinese forebears, and much of the writing about Chan consists—like this book—of translations of the sayings of classical masters.

Collections of the words of masters were treated as prize possessions as early as the ninth century. But this very adulation of old writings was criticized by many masters. In the Record of Linji ( Jap. Rinzai, died 866), for example, we find the following words:

Students of today get nowhere because they base their understanding upon the acknowledgment of names. They inscribe the words of some dead old guy in a great big notebook, wrap it up in four or five squares of cloth, and won’t let anyone look at it. “This is the Mysterious Principle,” they aver, and safeguard it with care. That’s all wrong. Blind idiots! What kind of juice are you looking for in such dried-up bones!

Master Linji’s harsh criticism of collecting and safeguarding the words of masters points toward the central aim of Chan teaching. Since approximately the year 1000, the following quatrain has been used to characterize Chan:

Transmitted outside of established doctrine,
[Chan] does not institute words. [Rather,]
It points directly to the human being’s heart:
Seeing your nature makes you a buddha.

Because of the role that Chan texts and Buddhist scriptures play at Chan monasteries, the meaning of the first two lines of his quatrain has provoked much discussion. To me, they point to what nineteenth-century Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard once said about the Bible. He said that reading it is like looking at a mirror: some may wonder of what material it is crafted, how much it cost, how it functions, where it comes from, etc. Others, however, look into that mirror to face themselves. It is the latter attitude that is addressed in the quatrain above.

The central concern of Chan is nothing other than the thorough seeing of one’s own nature, and the Buddha and the enlightened masters after him tried to guide and prod their students toward this. Many of these masters point out that with such a goal, sutras as well as Chan scriptures can be no more than a finger pointing at the moon. Yet these very observations were written down and soon collected in records comprising the sayings of individual masters.

In addition to such records, compendia appeared that usually furnished the biographical information and selected teachings of numerous masters. These compendia are another sign of the growing awareness on the part of Chan monks that they were members of a single tradition that could be arranged in various lineages. The first major compendium of this kind is the Collection from the Founder’s Hall (Ch. Zutangji, Kor. Chodang chip, Jap. Sodōshū), completed in 952. It appeared just three years after Master Yunmen’s death and stands at the end of the classical age, just as the second major compendium, the Jingde Era Record of the Transmission of the Lamp (Ch. Jingde chuandenglu, Jap. Keitoku dentōroku), published in 1004, marks the beginning of a new period of great expansion and literary and cultural productivity
during the Song dynasty (960–1279).

Chan in the Second Millennium

Around the turn of the millennium the first rulers of the Song dynasty ushered in a new political age in which Chan flourished. The religion broadened its influence dramatically and grew into a considerable force both religiously and culturally. During the Song dynasty, the Chan Buddhists not only attracted respect (or criticism) as members of a famous movement, they also created much of what we now call Chan monasticism (monastic rules, rituals, etc.), Chan methodology (especially the systematic use of koans), Chan literature (recorded sayings, koan collections, Chan histories, etc.), and Chan art (painting, calligraphy, etc.). This influence radiated internationally, as some talented Japanese monks such as Eisai and Dōgen studied in China and founded Zen traditions upon their return to Japan.

The Yunmen line flourished for about two centuries after the death of the master. Toward the end of the Song dynasty it was gradually absorbed into the Linji tradition, as were all the other Chan lines with the exception of Caodong ( Jap. Sōtō).

Although during the classical age lineages were not at all distinct and many monks studied under different masters at different times, the Song editors of compendia and Chan histories made great efforts to reduce the complex historical web to neat linear threads strung from master to successor. Thus they began to speak of five major classical traditions of Chan: those of Guiyang ( Jap. Igyō), Linji ( Jap. Rinzai), Caodong ( Jap. Sōtō), Yunmen ( Jap. Ummon), and Fayan ( Jap. Hōgen). The two most influential traditions during the Song era were the lines of Yunmen and Linji. This is probably due to both the eminence of their progenitors and the presence in these two lines of literarily gifted monks who rewrote Chan history and edited various compendia, chronicles, and records. The best-known representative of the Yunmen line was Xuetou Chongxian (980–1052), the gifted poet and popular Chan teacher who wrote the poetic comments in the Blue Cliff Record. Partly because of monks like him, Yunmen overshadows all other masters with regard to the number of his sayings included in Song-era koan collections. Three major koan collections (the Blue Cliff Record, the Gateless Barrier, and the Record of Serenity) feature Yunmen as protagonist more often than any other master.

A representative of the line of Yunmen who was in many ways typical was Master Qisong (1007–1072), who lived four generations after Yunmen. He was the author of a book entitled Record of the True Tradition of Dharma Transmission, which tried to show that Chan is the most genuine of the traditions of Buddhism. Such texts had considerable influence on the intelligentsia of the time, so much so that the great Neo-Confucianist philosopher Zhuxi (1130–1200) discussed mainly Chan teachings when writing about Buddhism. But this influence went both ways: Master Qisong was also an ardent student of Confucianism and composed a book about one of the four Confucian classics, the Doctrine of the Mean, as well as other works that make an argument for the underlying unity of such different teachings.

The Yunmen line flourished for about two centuries after the death of the master. Toward the end of the Song dynasty it was gradually absorbed into the Linji tradition, as were all the other Chan lines with the exception of Caodong (Jap. Sōtō). During the Yuan dynasty (1260–1367), the Yunmen line vanished altogether. From the Ming dynasty (1368–1644) on, the Linji tradition flourished to such an extent that it became practically synonymous in China with Chan and even Buddhism as a whole. By the beginning of the twentieth century, to be a Linji monk meant little more than to be an ordained Buddhist monk.

The influence of Yunmen’s teaching, however, did not suffer the same fate as his school: it remains omnipresent in Chan to this day.

Related Books

Zen Master Yunmen

$19.95 - Paperback

By: Urs App

The Blue Cliff Record

$49.95 - Paperback

By: J. C. Cleary & Thomas Cleary

No-Gate Gateway

$19.95 - Paperback

By: David Hinton

Bring Me the Rhinoceros

$18.95 - Paperback

By: John Tarrant

Urs AppUrs App, PhD, is a Swiss scholar of Buddhism and religious studies, specializing in Zen. See more about the author here. 

...
Continue Reading >>

The Life of Master Yunmen | An Excerpt from Zen Master Yunmen

An Introduction to a Remarkable Life

Zen Master Yunmen

Youth

Yunmen was born in 864 in Jiaxing, a town between Shanghai and Hangzhou on China’s eastern coast. His family name was Zhang; but because it was the custom for Buddhist monks to abandon their family names, he became known as Wenyan and later took the name of Mt. Yunmen, at whose foot he built his monastery. To avoid unnecessary confusion, I will refer to him as Yunmen throughout the text.

Yunmen’s birth came at a time of great political upheaval. In the years between 842 and 845, the central government of China had proscribed Buddhism and other “foreign” religions. Several hundred thousand monks and nuns were defrocked and secularized, 4,600 monasteries and 40,000 smaller sanctuaries were destroyed or converted to other uses, and the greater part of monastic property was seized. As the Tang period was drawing to a close, the central government had already lost much of its power, and in some regions of the empire (an area about the size of Europe) that power had virtually disintegrated by the time of Yunmen’s birth. In these remote regions Buddhist movements were gaining in vigor and influence and developing ever more idiosyncratic forms of teaching and practice. The most prominent of these movements was Chan.

Before we follow the course of Yunmen’s life, a cautionary remark is appropriate: The biographies of religious men in China are, not unlike those of other religions, full of set stories and expressions. Pivotal events in a person’s life tend to receive little attention in early sources and ever more detailed descriptions in later ones. It is thus impossible to take all the available information at face value; usually the best one can do is to rely on early sources and carefully compare all available materials.

The biographies of religious men in China are, not unlike those of other religions, full of set stories and expressions. Pivotal events in a person’s life tend to receive little attention in early sources and ever more detailed descriptions in later ones. It is thus impossible to take all the available information at face value; usually the best one can do is to rely on early sources and carefully compare all available materials.

Like many other eminent monks, Yunmen is said to have had extraordinary powers of memory. The stone inscription of 964 reports that from birth he showed signs of great intelligence and that as a child he learned poems and entire Buddhist scriptures by heart after a single reading. Yunmen is also said to have been keenly aware of his spiritual leanings and to have decided to take the path of monkhood upon reaching adolescence. According to the biography contained in the Record of Yunmen, young Yunmen was also characterized by a strong aversion to vulgarity, a tendency to be exemplary, and great eloquence.

Several sources assert that as a boy Yunmen entered the Kongwang temple of his hometown, where he passed some years studying under a specialist in monastic discipline named Zhi Cheng. While the boy underwent this initial training, the rebellion of Huang Chao (874–883) shook the foundations of the Chinese empire, and both its eastern and southern fringes (the regions where Yunmen grew up and eventually settled down, respectively) gradually achieved autonomy. Various local leaders emerged and took power; in the area near Shanghai that contained Jiaxing, for example, the former bandit leader Qian Lu worked his way up to the position of general (878) and eventually supreme potentate.

Yunmen took the monastic precepts at the usual age of twenty in the town of Changzhou, near beautiful Suzhou, a town not far inland from Shanghai that is famous for its exquisite gardens, romantic canals, and tree-lined boulevards. Afterward, he returned to Zhi Cheng and concentrated on studying the voluminous monastic rule literature. We are told that he soon started to lecture about monastic discipline. It is not clear how many years Yunmen remained with this first teacher, and since no source gives exact dates for the period between Yunmen’s twentieth and thirtieth year, we must be content with approximate dates.

Meeting with Master Muzhou

Around the age of twenty-five Yunmen set out to meet the famous Daozong who was known as “Reverend Chen” and sojourned in Muzhou, about seventy miles upriver from Hangzhou. Unfortunately not much is known about this man; according to the Transmission of Treasures of Monks of the Chan Tradition of 1122, he had been (together with Linji / Rinzai) a disciple of the famous Master Huangbo (Jap. Ōbaku). Having left the Mishan monastery at Gaoan in what is now Jiangsi province, Reverend Chen returned home to Muzhou to take care of his aging mother. After a stay at the local Longxing monastery, he left monastic life altogether and supported himself and his mother by making sandals. Like many other Chan masters, he became known under the name of the locality where he stayed and thus was also called Master Muzhou. He was noted for his reclusiveness and his abrupt manner; indeed, the records about him consist almost entirely of very short dialogues.

By the time that Yunmen visited him, Muzhou was probably very old. It is said that Yunmen tried on one or more occasions to see the former monk but was turned away. The older stone inscription describes his crucial attempt as follows:

[Master Muzhou’s] one room was usually shut, and it was completely empty. When he occasionally did receive people, he allowed no deliberations. When Yunmen could freely roll in and out, he went straight to Muzhou’s door and knocked.

Master Muzhou asked, “Who is it?”
Yunmen: “It is me, [Yunmen] Wenyan.”
Muzhou blocked the entrance and said, “Why do you keep coming?”
Yunmen replied, “I am not clear about myself.”
Muzhou said, “Absolutely useless stuff!” then pushed Yunmen out and shut the door.
In this way Yunmen attained understanding.

Though later sources embellish this story, in the majority of sources its core remains essentially unchanged: the problem that drives Yunmen to seek instruction is not something that bothers him but rather his own self. This is not one of a number of problems he has but rather the problem he himself is. I will come back to this point in the introduction to the master’s teaching.

Another common element of the various sources is that Yunmen, having barely formulated his problem, is jolted by an abrupt response from Muzhou and at that moment gains a profound realization. There remains disagreement over various aspects of this encounter, including the number of Yunmen’s previous unsuccessful visits and the exact nature of the event that triggered the breakthrough.

Whatever the specifics of the encounter, it resulted in a decisive breakthrough that the sources describe with the vocabulary commonly used for Buddhist awakening: enlightenment, liberation from doubts, perfect match with the core of teachings, realization of the essence of one’s own heart-mind and of the great meaning—great awakening, satori.

Whatever the specifics of the encounter, it resulted in a decisive breakthrough that the sources describe with the vocabulary commonly used for Buddhist awakening: enlightenment, liberation from doubts, perfect match with the core of teachings, realization of the essence of one’s own heart-mind and of the great meaning—great awakening, satori.

After this event, Yunmen stayed with Master Muzhou for several years though we cannot be sure of the exact number of years, the similarity of the style and diction between the Record of Yunmen and that of Muzhou suggests that Muzhou’s influence was deep and lasting.

Encounter with Master Xuefeng; Pilgrimage

Muzhou was fully conscious of his disciple’s potential, and after having taught Yunmen for a few years he sent him to the renowned Chan master Xuefeng for further training. Such training after awakening was common and served to prepare future teachers for their task. In general, many teachers were visited over one or more decades, in the course of which teaching skills were gradually honed and experience was gained.

In the case of Yunmen, this training lasted for seventeen years and began around his thirtieth year with the visit to Xuefeng. This master was living in the Kingdom of Min on the coast opposite the island of Taiwan. This region, which corresponds roughly to today’s Fujian province, had become rather wealthy through sea trade and was quick to assume independence when the authority of the central government waned. Thanks to the strong interest in Buddhism shown by the potentate Wang Shenzhi (a good friend of Master Xuefeng), several large monasteries were being built or restored around the time of Yunmen’s arrival. Master Xuefeng taught at the monastic community of the Snow Peak (Xuefeng) temple on Mt. Elephant Bone, which was said to have been home to more than a thousand monks. The proverbial expression “In the north Master Zhaozhou, in the south Master Xuefeng” suggests just how famous Master Xuefeng must have been.

The story of the meeting of Yunmen and Xuefeng fired the imagination of many a writer, but again we will try to stay close to the earlier stone inscription—which, incidentally, agrees here with the Collection from the Founder’s Hall, the important early Chan history compiled in circles around Xuefeng before 952:

Master [Yunmen] thus went to Min. Hardly had he climbed Mt. Elephant Bone than he already demonstrated his immeasurable ability: When he reached Xuefeng’s assembly and the threefold salutation was about to be performed, Xuefeng said, “How could it come to this?” Master [Yunmen] did not move one hair’s breadth and impressively demonstrated his complete ability. But although he had cut through the stream [of deluded consciousness] he also carried horns [like the deluded ones]. So none of the more than one thousand students [of Xuefeng] knew for sure whether he was an ordinary or a holy man. For many cold and hot seasons, Yunmen went to question [Xuefeng] at dusk and dawn.

This account intends to point out that when he went to meet Master Xuefeng, Yunmen already had great ability but did not wish to show it off. Section 279 of this volume furnishes an embroidered version of this meeting and shows how editors added much detail to such stories.

It is certain that Yunmen spent a number of years with Xuefeng, although it is impossible to know exactly how many. In view of the long journey that followed the stay at Mt. Elephant Bone, it seems likely that Yunmen left in his late thirties and spent ten more years on pilgrimage before he settled down in China’s deep south at the age of forty-seven. I will not trace all of his movements during this journey; suffice it to say that Yunmen visited and interviewed many masters before, in 911, visiting the temple in South China where the Sixth Patriarch Huineng is said to have stayed. It was in this region with its long Chan tradition that Yunmen was destined to begin his active life as a Chan teacher.

Yunmen visited and interviewed many masters before, in 911, visiting the temple in South China where the Sixth Patriarch Huineng is said to have stayed. It was in this region with its long Chan tradition that Yunmen was destined to begin his active life as a Chan teacher.

Arrival in South China

Like Min, the southernmost region in the Chinese empire (which included the coastal stretches around Hong Kong and the Cantonese hinterland) reached comparative wealth through sea trade and inched toward autonomy as soon as central power faltered. Liu Yin, a man from the Min region, had moved to the Canton region and made a name for himself after 878 as a fighter loyal to the central government in its struggle against the rebel Huang Chao. While the central government gave him a succession of increasingly lofty titles, he brought the whole region under his power. He died the same year Yunmen arrived in this region, and the younger brother who succeeded him, Liu Yan, later became Yunmen’s most important sponsor.

After visiting the pilgrimage site connected with the Sixth Patriarch, Yunmen traveled to the nearby city of Shaoguan and met with Master Rumin of Lingshu, who headed a community of monks. Old sources simply state that the two hit it off well and formed a deep friendship. Later sources emphasize, as biographies of Chinese monks often do, Rumin’s spiritual powers and tell us that Rumin had known all along that Yunmen would visit and when. Even more recent sources state that Rumin intuited the exact time of Yunmen’s arrival and sent his monks to greet him. At any rate, Yunmen became the head monk in Master Rumin’s monastery and served in this capacity until Rumin’s death seven years later. It is reported that, before he died, Rumin foresaw an impending imperial visit to his temple. Liu Yan (who had given himself the name of Emperor Gaozu) did indeed come to the Lingshu monastery soon after Rumin’s death in 918 and gave orders to cremate the master’s body and to fashion a statue in his likeness. Liu Yan first met head monk Yunmen during this visit.

After succeeding his brother in 911, Liu Yan, no longer content with the ever more bombastic titles that the central government had been conferring on him to keep him subservient, had in the year 915 stopped all financial contributions. Two years later he elevated himself formally to the post that he in fact already occupied: that of supreme ruler of his own empire, which he first named Great Yue and later Southern Han. After Rumin’s death, Yunmen was summoned for an audience with Emperor Gaozu (Lin Yan), who honored him with the purple robe, a governmental decoration reserved for eminent monks. One year later, in 919, the emperor named the fifty-five-year-old Yunmen abbot of Lingshu monastery. This was the official beginning of thirty years of uninterrupted teaching for Yunmen.

Teaching

For a few years, Yunmen taught in the Lingshu monastery in Shaoguan, but the monastery’s steady stream of visitors soon became too distracting for him and his students. The stone inscriptions tell us:

Master Yunmen got tired of receiving and entertaining people and wished to reside at a remote and pure place. He turned to the emperor with a request to change his place of residence. He got the imperial permission, and in the twentieth year of the sixty-year cycle (923), Yunmen ordered his disciples to open up Mt. Yunmen for construction. Five years later, the work was completed.

So at the age of sixty-four, Yunmen found the quiet place where he would teach monks and lay disciples for another two decades. Most of the talks and dialogues contained in the Record of Yunmen presumably come from this twenty-year period. Here the master had a stable monastic setting and a community that included those who took down notes from his talks and thus laid the basis of the text that is partly translated in this volume. Furthermore, Yunmen enjoyed the full support of Emperor Liu Yan, who had himself brushed the characters “Chan monastery of Enlightened Peace” on the monastery’s large door plate. The inscription of 959 tells the following story about Yunmen’s dealings with Liu Yan:

In the thirty-fifth year (938) His Heavenly Majesty the Great Emperor Gaozu (Liu Yan) summoned Master [Yunmen] to the Imperial Palace [for an audience]. The emperor asked, “What is Chan all about?” Master [Yunmen] said, “Your Majesty has the question, and your servant the monk has the answer.”

The emperor inquired, “What answer?” Master [Yunmen] replied, “I request Your Majesty to reflect upon the words your servant has just uttered.” The emperor was pleased and said: “I know your personal precept, and I have respected it early.” He decreed that the office of Inspector of the Monks of the Capital be given to Master [Yunmen]. The Master remained silent and did not respond.

Coming back to this decree, an imperial advisor said, “This Master has completed his training and knows the path; he is not likely to enjoy rising to a high post.” The emperor then said, “Shall we let you return to your mountain?” Master [Yunmen], full of joy, shouted thrice, “Long live the emperor!” The following day Master [Yunmen] was presented with goods from the treasury, incense, and medicinal herbs, and he received donations of salt and other goods. When Master [Yunmen] returned to his mountain, [the emperor] conferred along with all this the title “Genuine Truth” upon him. Following this [His Majesty] gave donations several times every year; these donations were often not duly recorded.

Yunmen’s good relations with the imperial court were maintained beyond the death of Liu Yan in 942 and the murder of his successor one year later. The next emperor, who called himself Zhongzong, invited Yunmen to the imperial palace for one month and gave him many presents, including an imperial inscription for the master’s grave. But although Yunmen was already seventy-nine, he taught at the foot of Mt. Gate-of-the-Clouds for a few more years before making use of this gift.

Death of the Master

On May 10, 949, the eighty-five-year-old master suddenly had no more appetite and slept less. The earlier stone inscription gives the following account about his death:

When his attendant offered him a hot [medical] broth, the Master handed the bowl back and said, “First, I am fine; second, you are fine! Be sure to write a letter to request my leave from the emperor.” And then he wrote himself a document with his admonitions for posterity that went: “After my death I permit neither the wearing of mourning clothes in conformity with worldly custom nor wailing and holding a ceremony with a funeral carriage. This would be a violation of the Buddha’s precepts and a source of trouble for the Chan school.” He transmitted the Dharma to Zhixiang [who is] the Great Master Shixing of Mt. Baiyun. The Master’s disciples had already organized the assembly accordingly. At the hour of the rat on the tenth day of the fourth moon of the forty-sixth year (of the sixty-year cycle; between 11 p.m. of May 10 and 1 a.m. of May 11, 949), the Master left this world.

Oh! The boat of compassion having been destroyed

Samsara will not attain the shore of salvation.

The Dharma mountain having crumbled What have flying and walking creatures left to rely upon?

One thousand monks and laypeople participated at the funeral ceremonies that took place fifteen days after Master Yunmen’s death. In accordance with the master’s instructions, his corpse was put as it was into the burial site inside the master’s living quarters. The stone inscriptions state that fifteen days after his death he still looked as if he were alive. The biography of the Record of Yunmen contains additional details about the master’s death and burial:

On the tenth day of the fourth month of Qianhe 7, Master Yunmen passed away. In the morning he had composed a message to take leave from the sovereign and at the same time set forth his testament. Then he had folded his legs and died. Having had the honor of receiving an imperial gift of a stupa inscription, it was ordered in the Master’s last will that his body was to be placed as it was inside his living quarters, and that the stupa inscription donated by the sovereign be properly displayed there. [He had ordered them] not to build a special stupa. In accordance with these instructions, the disciples buried the Master in his living quarters and considered his stupa to be there.

The sadness that prevailed at the funeral is described with the poetic license typical of Chinese inscriptions:

On this day the drifting clouds stood [respectfully] still and the grave tree withered. The cry of the mountain’s lone monkeys sharpened the pain of the loss, and invisible birds’ voices that pierced the woods heightened the regret and sadness of separation. The mourners hid [their faces] in their collars and stood around crying.

The Mummy

If the participants at Yunmen’s funeral had been stunned that the corpse of the master looked as if it were alive, they were soon to experience still greater wonders. The second stone inscription states that in the seventeenth year from Yunmen’s death the master appeared to the magistrate Ruan Shaozhuang in a dream and instructed him to open his grave. When it was opened, the master’s body was found unchanged except that its hair, fingernails, and toenails had grown longer. The eyes were half open and glistened like pearls, the teeth sparkled like snow, and a mystical glow filled the whole room. Several thousand monks and laypersons are said to have witnessed this.

By imperial edict the mummy of Yunmen was brought with great ceremony into Guangzhou, the capital, where it was honored for an entire month—even by the current ruler Liu Chang, who had more sympathy for Daoism. This last of the rulers of the Southern Han empire also bestowed a posthumous honorary title upon the master and gave the monastery at the foot of Mt. Yunmen the name it carries to this day: Chan Monastery of Great Awakening. The mummy was returned to the Yunmen monastery, where it remained for more than one thousand years. Having disappeared in the mid-1970s during the Cultural Revolution, it must at this point be considered lost.

This has been excerpted from Zen Master Yunmen: His Life and Essential Sayings.

Related Books

Zen Master Yunmen

$19.95 - Paperback

By: Urs App

The Essential Dogen

$21.95 - Paperback

By: Peter Levitt & Kazuaki Tanahashi

Just This Is It

$29.95 - Paperback

By: Taigen Dan Leighton

No-Gate Gateway

$19.95 - Paperback

By: David Hinton

Passing Through the Gateless Barrier

$34.95 - Paperback

By: Guo Gu

Urs AppUrs App, PhD, is a Swiss scholar of Buddhism and religious studies, specializing in Zen. See more about him here.

...
Continue Reading >>