The Use of Zen Koans

The question of whether the Buddha-dharma destroys or does not destroy worldly dharma has become a public case (gong'an), meant to let you investigate from the standpoint of phenomena—it is an investigation of the mind. Once you have seen the mind and understood the mind, you will know the relationship between the Buddha-dharma and worldly dharma, and all those theories and views become useless, nothing but tangled vines. Since it is called a Chan public case, it must be related to Chan, and Chan is the mind. The mind requires you to realize it, to see it, to manifest it; it does not require a pile of theories and views from you. All views are useless; even expounding the entire Tripitaka of teachings is just idle talk.

When the disciple said the single word "destroys," that was the Buddha-dharma; when the disciple said the two words "does not destroy," that was also the Buddha-dharma. Destroying or not destroying, speaking or not speaking—all is the Buddha-dharma. Master and disciple understood each other perfectly and clearly, knowing each other's minds without needing to speak—it was merely putting on a play. Bodhisattvas perform the play, ordinary beings watch it; the expert sees the inner workings, the layman sees only the spectacle—and if one cannot even understand the spectacle, what more is there to say? All those various arguments about destroying or not destroying—to whom is this reasoning being preached?

The scriptural teachings are used to expound and explain principles; at such times, if you have a valid point, you may speak freely, speak at great length. But public cases use phenomena to reveal principle—on the surface they all speak of events, and within those events the true principle is revealed: the true mind, the self-nature, the tathāgatagarbha. Sometimes without even opening one's mouth to speak, the principle manifests. It is concise, clear, direct, and readily at hand; the expert understands at a glance, mind communicating with mind. In fact, expounding the Dharma does not necessarily require talking about the mysterious and the wondrous or presenting piles of theory—one can truthfully expound the Dharma and deliver beings without saying a single word. In the Buddha-land of the Buddha Gandhakūṭa (Fragrant Accumulation), the Buddha and bodhisattvas need only smell the fragrance, and the bodhisattvas awaken to the Way. In other Buddha-lands, the Buddha merely shares a single meal with the bodhisattvas, and the bodhisattvas awaken to the Way. There are no lengthy theories to expound; language is not necessary, nor are written words—the Way has nothing to do with language or letters. Only the sentient beings of the Sahā world have the habit of language and writing, liking to use words to express their thoughts and feelings, showing off their rich theoretical knowledge, thinking that the longer the articles they write the better, and the more books they publish the better. In truth, it is mostly verbosity; lengthy treatises are utterly unnecessary—a few strokes that dot the dragon's eyes are enough. The Way is something very simple; without the Way, writing hundreds of millions of words merely wastes one's own and others' mental energy and effort. Those with the Way love silence; those without the Way love to talk on and on, spouting grandiose words and delivering lengthy discourses, in order to highlight the self.