Transmission of the Dharma, the passing of the teaching mantel to the next generation, is at the heart of Zen. It is one of our origin stories, the story of the first transmission, the passing of the torch from our original teacher, Shakyamuni Buddha. The story is studied by Zen students as a koan. It is a very simple story. At a great assembly of monks and nuns and laymen and laywomen, in a glade in rural India, it is late afternoon, the heat of the day behind them when Shakyamuni holds up a flower and blinks. Everyone is silent, puzzled. What is the meaning of this? Only Mahakasyapa smiles. Immediately, the Buddha entrusts his teaching to Mahakasyapa.
Generations of students have struggled with this koan. “That can’t be all that there is.” “There must be more.”
In our lineage, we have a relatively modern innovation from ancient practice. Now, generally a teacher makes a student a Dharma Holder sometime before transmission. I remember thinking that becoming a Dharma Holder was like getting engaged to be married. It was an expression of intention.
How did Bernie decide to make me a Dharma Holder? I never knew. He’d just called me on the phone to tell me he was going to do it in January at the year-beginning retreat in Litchfield. I didn’t start to wonder why, until years later when I was finishing koan study with Bob. Bernie sent me to Bob when doing koans via email hadn’t worked. When there was no sign that Bernie was about to give me transmission, I began to wonder if he’d ever pull the trigger. I’d been Jishu’s senior student, having ordained in order to serve as her first shuso at a time when that had been important to them both. Jishu died suddenly during my Shuso period. Had Bernie made me a Dharma Holder in a moment of intense grief? Had he thought better of it? “If you think you made a mistake making me a Dharma Holder, I’ll let you off the hook.” I felt like I was offering a prospective spouse the opportunity to back out of our engagement.
Bernie declined. I was relieved and I was still frustrated. More time went by. Nothing happened. Again, I asked Bernie if he regretted making me a Dharma Holder. “No,” he said again. “No regrets.”
Would I ever get transmission? Finally, I just settled down, channeling my inner Hsiang-yen, who in one of my favorite koans, had also been frustrated by his teacher. Facing the possibility that he would never find accord with his teacher, Kuei-shan, Hsiang-yen had dropped all ambition, taking up the care of an abandoned temple. Each day, Hsiang-yen meticulously swept the temple grounds. One day, he swept a stone into the air, striking a bamboo, thwock! That thwock awakened Hsiang-yen. His gratitude to Kuei-shan was boundless. Kuei-shan had allowed him to find his own way. If Kuei-shan had explained things to him, he would never have had this profound experience.
Bernie was my Kuei-shan. Hsiang-yen was my hero. I didn’t burn my books as Hsiang-yen had done, and I didn’t move up into the mountains. Without leaving Staten Island, my aimless meandering led first to founding The Verrazano Foundation. Actualizing the mission of bringing people living with mental illnesses to the societal table, we created some wonderful opportunities for artists in recovery to create and exhibit their work. And then we stumbled onto charter schools and before I knew it, we were building the network of schools which would become Integration Charter Schools, four distinct schools, each with a unique program, all sharing the mission of fully integrating in college prep programs students who were living with emotional challenges and other disabilities. These were my abandoned temples. I was sweeping the yard every day.
I would be the best Dharma Holder I could be, carrying forward Bernie’s Zen teaching of social entrepreneurship, just sweeping my yard, not waiting for a thwock. And then I heard the thwock. Bernie wasn’t perfect. Bernie was my imperfect teacher. With all my imperfections, I too could become a teacher. I’m smiling now. I must have been smiling then. I never told Bernie about my thwock, but not too much later he scheduled my transmission. I never asked Bernie how he made that decision. What had he seen? I didn’t ask but facing my own decisions about making students Dharma Holders, I’ve thought, “I should have asked Bernie how he did it.”
And then I smile. What was it that Kuei-shan had said to Hsiang-yen which so frustrated him? “I really have nothing to teach you… Whatever understanding I have is my own and will never be yours.” How, would it have helped me to know how Bernie did it?
I am thinking again that becoming a Dharma Holder is a lot like getting engaged and transmission a lot like marriage. I would love to know how Bernie decided to marry Jishu, but how would that have helped me make a marriage decision?
Getting married is so unlike getting a license in clinical social work. There are requirements for the social work license. Academic degrees are required. There’s a requisite number of hours of clinical practice which must be completed under the supervision of a licensed clinician. The supervisor must fill out forms. Then the candidate for licensure can sit for an exam. There are objective rules for grading the exam. The requirements for licensure are very specific, very objective.
I am horrified when I hear fellow Zen teachers thinking that, as Zen adapts and adjusts to the American scene, we need rules and regulations for transmission which have the modern feel of licensure. What are they saying? That there is way too much uncertainty, way too much mystery in the traditional transmission process? “We need professional standards.” “Let’s professionalize Zen teaching and transmission.”
Is that what we want Zen to become? To me, that’s a nightmare vision. I don’t want to bureaucratize marriage decisions either. I don’t want to take the magic out of marriage. And I don’t want to take the mystery out of Zen. I laugh when I picture the glade in rural India. The Buddha is standing before the assembly. “I have happy news to share today. Mahakasyapa has passed his licensing exam.” Who would bother studying that koan?
Thanks.