Lesson
11

Master Sheng Yen:
The Vows of a Monk
2 of 3

Having formed his vow, at that time, Master Sheng Yen could not have imagined that some 36 years later in 1977, he would arrive at the moongate-style entrance of the Temple of Great Enlightenment, in Bronx, New York, to further his wish to share Chan Buddhism with people in the West. The Temple was already an established center of devotion to the local Chinese Buddhist community, but shortly after his arrival there, Master Sheng Yen began to attract a small following of mostly Westerners who wanted to learn Chan. This group of about 25 was a varied mixture of people of Christian, Jewish, and secular backgrounds, as well as younger Chinese who had as much in common with their Western peers as they did with the Chinese community. Most were well-educated, some involved in graduate studies, and several of the Westerners also spoke and read Chinese.

Some were expatriates, if you will, of the counter-culture of the times, with their keen interest in alternative lifestyles and beliefs, such as yoga, mysticism, some dabbling in psychedelics, and Eastern religions."Expatriates" is apt: whatever they found in the counter-culture was less than totally fulfilling, and they were looking for something more lasting and deeper. Others were still in the mainstream of "seventies" culture, but also looking for an alternative path to resolve their doubts about being and existence. Doubt about their current beliefs is ultimately what brought all these early pioneers to study Chan with Master Sheng Yen, at a time when "Zen" was still a faddish buzzword.

But Buddhist seekers are not stranger to doubt, even to highly practiced monks. Here is Master Sheng Yen on his own struggles with doubt:

People who had deep meditation experiences, or who had been certified as enlightened, never explained their experience. When they talked among themselves, their language was strange, and its meaning elusive. There were a few older students who had spent several years in meditation halls. When I asked them about practice they would say, "Oh, it's easy. Just sit there. Once your legs stop hurting it's fine." Sometimes a monk would be given a gong'an  (koan) on which to meditate, but on the whole, there was no systematic meditation training.

Once at the seminary, I participated in a Chan retreat. I would just sit in meditation until I heard the incense board signaling walking meditation. No one told me what to do or gave me any instruction. We had a saying that one had to sit until "the bottom falls out of the barrel of pitch." Only then could he get to see the master.

Sometimes, while sitting, I thought, "What should I be doing? Should I be reciting Buddha's name? Should I be doing something else? What really is meditation?" I kept asking myself these questions until I became a big ball of doubt. However, while at this seminary my doubts never got resolved.

Eventually, I left mainland China for Taiwan, where I was conscripted into army service. Despite my duties as a soldier, I took time to meditate everyday. My doubts, still unresolved, caused all kinds of questions to come up. There were many contradictions in the Buddhist teachings that I could not resolve. This was very disturbing since I had deep faith in the Buddha's teachings and believed that the sutras could not be wrong. I was burdened with such questions as "What is enlightenment?: "What is Buddhahood?" Questions like these were very numerous in my mind, and I desperately needed to know the answers.