Foreword by Dr. C. G. Jung to Suzuki’s Zen Buddhism
Daistz Teitaro Suzuki’s w’orks on Zen Buddhism are among the best contributions to the knowledge of living Buddhism that recent decades have produced, and Zen itself is the most impxDrtant fruit that has sprung from that tree whose roots are the collections of the Pali-Canon.
We cannot be sufficiendy grateful to the author, first for the fact of his having
brought Zen closer to Western understanding, and secondly for the manner in which he has achieved this task.
Oriental religious conceptions are usually so very different from our Western ones that even the very translation of the words brings one up against the greatest difficulties, quite apart from the meaning of the ideas exposed, which under certain circumstances are better left untranslated.
I have only to mention the Chinese “Tao’\ which no European translation has yet achieved.
The original Buddhist writings themselves contain views and ideas which are more or less unassimilable by the average Western understanding.
I do not know, for example, just what spiritual (or perhaps climatic?) background or preparation is necessary before one can deduce any completely clear idea from the Buddhist Kamma.
In spite of all that we know about the essence of Zen, here too there is the question of a central perception of unsurpassed singularity.
This strange perception is called Saton, and may be translated as “Enlightenment”.
Suzuki says (see page 95), “Satori is the raison d’etre of Zen, and without it there is no Zen.”
It should not be too difficult for the Western mind to grasp what a mystic understands by “enlightenment”, or what is known as “enlightenment” in religious parlance.
Satori, however, depicts an art and a way of enlightenment which is practically impossible for the European to appreciate.
I would point out the enlightenment of Hyakujo (Pai-chang Huai-hai, a.d. 724-814) on page 89, and the legend on pages 92-3 of this book.
The following may serve as a fiirther example:
A monk once went to Gensha, and wanted to learn where the entrance to the path of truth was. Gensha asked him, “Do you hear the murmuring of the brook?”
“Yes, I hear it,” answered the monk.
“There is the entrance,” the master instructed him.
I will be content with these few examples, which illustrate clearly the opacity of the satori experiences.
Even if we take example after example, it is still extremely hazy how such an
enlightenment comes and of what it consists ; in other words, by what or about what one is enlightened. Kaiten Nukariya, who was himself a Professor at the So-To-Shu Buddhist College in Tokyo, says, speaking of enlightenment
:
“Having set ourselves free from the misconception of Self, next we must awaken our innermost wisdom, pure and divine, called the Mind of Buddha, or Bodhi, or Prajna by Zen Masters.
It is the divine light, the inner heaven, the key to all moral treasures, the source of all influence and power, the seat of kindness, justice, sympathy, impartial love, humanity, and mercy, the measure of all things.
When this innermost wisdom is fully awakened, we are able to realize that each
and every one of us is identical in spirit, in essence, in nature with the universal life or Buddha, that each ever lives face to face with Buddha, that each is beset by the abundant grace of the Blessed One, that He arouses his moral nature, that He opens his spiritual eyes, that He unfolds his new capacity, that He appoints his mission, and that life is not an ocean of birth, disease, old age and death, nor the vale of
tears, but the holy temple of Buddha, the Pure Land, where he can enjoy the bliss of Nirvana.
Then our minds go through an entire revolution. We are no more troubled by anger and hatred, no more bitten by envy and ambition, no more stung by sorrow and chagrin, to more overwhelmed by melancholy and despair,” etc.
That is how an Oriental, himself a disciple of Zen, describes the essence of enlightenment.
It must be admitted that this passage would need only the most minute alterations in order not to be out of place in any Christian mystical book of devotion.
Yet somehow it fails to help us as regards understanding the satori experience described by this all-embracing casuistry.
Presumably Nukariya is speaking to Western rationalism, of which he himself has acquired a good dose, and that is why it all sounds so flatly edifying.
The abstruse obscurity of the Zen anecdotes is preferable to this adaptation: ad usum Delphini; it conveys a great deal more, while saying less.
Zen is anything but a philosophy in the Western sense of the word.
This is the opinion expressed by Rudolf Otto in his introduction to Ohasama’s book on Zen, when he says that Nukariya has fitted the magic oriental world of ideas into our Western philosophic categories, and confused it with these.
If psycho-physical parallelism, the most wooden of all doctrines, is invoked in
order to explain this mystical intuition of Not-twoness (fehtzweiheit) and Oneness and the coincidentia oppositorium, one is completely ejected from the sphere of koan and kwatsu and satori}
It is far better to allow oneself to become deeply imbued beforehand with the exotic obscurity of the Zen anecdotes, and to bear in mind the whole time that satori is a mysterium ineffabile, as indeed the Zen masters wish it to be.
Between the anecdotes and the mystical enlightenment there is, for our understanding, a gulf, the possibility of bridging which can at best be indicated
but never in practice achieved.’
One has the feeling of touching up>on a true secret, not something that has been imagined or pretended; this is not a case of mystifying secrecy, but rather of
an experience that baffles all languages. Satori comes as something unexpected, not to be expected.
When within the realm of Christianity visions of the Holy Trinity, the Madonna, the Crucifixion or the Patron Saint are vouchsafed, one has the impression that this is more or less as it should be.
That Jacob Boehme should obtain a glimpse into the centrum naturae by means of the sunbeam reflected in the tin plate is also understandable.
It is harder to accept Master Eckehart’s vision of “the litde naked boy”, or even Swedenborg’s “man in the red coat” who wanted to wean him from overeating, and whom, in spite of this or perhaps because of it, he recognized as the Lord God.
Such things are difficult to accept, bordering as they do on the grotesque.
Many of the satori experiences, however, do not merely border on the grotesque;
they are right there in the midst of it, sounding like complete nonsense.
For anyone, however, who has devoted considerable time to studying with loving and understanding care the flowerlike nature of the spirit of the Far East, many of these amazing hings, which drive the all too simple European from one
perplexity to another, fall away.
Zen is indeed one of the most wonderful blossoms of the Chinese spirit,’ which was readily impregnated by the immense thought-world of Buddhism.
He, therefore, who has really tried to understand Buddhist doctrine, if only to a certain degree—i.e. by renouncing various Western prejudices—will come upon certain depths beneath the bizarre cloak of the individual satori experiences, or will sense disquieting difficulties which the philosophic and religious West has up to
now thought fit to disregard.
As a philosopher, one is exclusively concerned with that understanding which, for its own part, has nothing to do with life.
And as a Christian, one has nothing to do with paganism (“I thank thee. Lord, that I am not as other men“).
There is no satori within these Western bounds—that is an Oriental affair. But is it really so? Have we in fact no satori?
When one examines the Zen text attentively, one cannot escape the impression that, with all that is bizarre in it, satori is, in fact, a matter of natural occurrence, of something so very simple that one fails to see the wood for the trees, and in attempting to explain it, invariably says the very thing that drives others into the greatest confusion.
Nukariya therefore is right when he says that any attempt to explain or analyse the contents of Zen vs-ith regard to enlightermaent would be in vain.
Nevertheless, this author does venture to say of enlightenment that it embraces an insight into the nature of self, and that it is an emancipation of the conscious from an illusionary conception of self.’
The illusion regarding the nature of self is the common confusion of the ego with self. Nukariya understands by “self” the All-Buddha, i.e. simply a total consciousness {Bewtisstseinstotalitdl) of life.
He quotes Pan Shan, who says, “The world of the mind encloses the whole universe in its light,” adding, “It is a cosmic life and a cosmic spirit, and at the same time an
individual life and an individual spirit.”
However one may define self, it is always something other than the ego, and inasmuch as a higher understanding of the ego leads on to self the latter is a thing of wider scope, embracing the knowledge of the ego and therefore surpassing it.
In the same way as the ego is a certain knowledge of my self so is the self a knowledge of my ego, which, however, is no longer experienced in the form of a broader or higher ego, but in the form of a non-ego {Nichi-Ich). ~Carl Jung, Introduction to Zen Buddhism, Page 9-13.
