Ordination Ceremony

Last Sunday, the Chicago Zen Center bore witness as one of its long-time members was ordained as a Zen Buddhist priest. The man we once knew as Marek Prejzner renounced worldly life and took the 16 Precepts from Sevan Sensei. To begin his life as a priest, he was given the name Sthaman (pronounced sta' - mun). This is a Sanskrit word that shares roots with the English word "stamina." Sevan Sensei spoke about the difficulties one can expect on this path, but also about the sense of true fulfillment it can engender. Our Center is deeply enriched by Sthaman's commitment.

45 members, family members and guests attended the ceremony.

Sensei offers incense


3 Prostrations


Sthaman receives priest's robe


Changing


Spreading Zagu


Receiving rakusu


"Wondrous is the robe of liberation..."


All bow


Sensei & Sthaman

Book Review

Gautama Buddha by Iqbal Singh, Oxford University Press

book review by Sevan Sensei

Singh wrote this book in the early 1990’s; at least the introduction says 1993. There have been countless biographies of the Buddha, and not a few have been pretty good. I have other favorites, the latest by Karen Armstrong, simply called Buddha. But I really love Singh’s book. It is readable, knowledgeable, treats the myths with respect while calling them myths, and possibly because Singh himself is an Indian and a scholar, this book dares to go where I have wanted to go for many years. Here’s what I mean: Just about every biography of the Buddha either resides well within the myth, or centers on breaking entirely with the myth. But even within both these camps few authors have dared to really speculate about the social and political realities that the Buddha must have faced.

Oh sure, they’ll make some general statements about caste, conditions, war, the state of the proto-Hindu society, but they will rarely attempt a full fabric wrapping of the life, times, sights, and smells of the age which the Buddha had to deal with directly. Let’s look at an example. When elaborating on how the Buddha’s father, Suddhodana, could not have been a king since they resided in a republic which was of the older and threatened social order (threatened by kingdoms!), Singh writes:

The decay of the old social order based on the twin principles of tribal autonomy and the inviolable sanctity of the family group had set in long before Gautama’s days. Irresistible economic pressure and a whole complex of psycho-political forces which those had brought into play, had rendered the tribal-cum-patriarchal republics in India more or less obsolete; their simple economy and social organization belonged to the past rather than to the future. The early tribal institutions and self-governing townships were in advanced stages of disintegration; already, when Gautama was born, several kingdoms had sprung up, and were steadily acquiring power through every conceivable means at their disposal, the methods of expansion ranging from actual wars of conquest to the nobler diplomacy of multiple matrimonial alliances. . . . Buddhist texts reveal that there still survived a number of independent or semi-independent aristocratic republics akin to the city-states flourishing in Greece roughly about the same time. Kapilavastu was one of them.

Finally, context. We have been wanting a biography that is willing to give us enough background to relate, to connect, the world of our founder to that world which produced us. Singh does this all through the book. But more, he is willing to speculate as to the mind state that is behind the actions of the major players of the Buddha’s story. By setting up enough historical backdrop to give us a feel of the fabric, he can speculate as to what makes the people move, and he is believable in most of his speculation. It brings the story of that time from black and white to Technicolor.

In other areas, Singh is unafraid to tackle the harder questions of the doctrine of Buddha’s teaching itself. Here is what he says about Karma and the transmigration of souls.

In view of Gautama’s categorical denial of the permanent nature of the soul, it is difficult to understand how anybody could justifiably credit him with belief in transmigration. . . .
Belief in transmigration without a corresponding belief in an immortal soul is an illusion which is at once illogical and inconsistent. . . . In all other respects Gautama’s world-view is so transparently sound and reasonable, that it is hard to believe, in this particular case, he should suddenly have abandoned his rational outlook, thus annihilating the whole purpose of his philosophy. On the other hand, it seems much more credible, and is indeed highly probable, that the references to the doctrine of transmigration which are to be found in the Buddhist Canon – and they are legion – have been introduced by the compilers.

And then off he goes to look at specific instances. His arguments are logical, sensible, and simple. I found myself all through the book having many of my own suspicions affirmed. This is more that a biography – it is a fearless examination of the whole tradition which is clothed as a biography. It is a fascinating and believable read. I couldn’t put it down.

Follow the River

by Sheila Collins

The story behind this insight is that I was participating in one of my first sesshins at the Doshinji monastery in Mt. Tremper, NY (under John Daido Loori) during the 1980’s. I was very young, very disillusioned with what I saw as the ceaseless round of impermanent and vain activity. I so wanted to know the meaning of life, so I threw myself into sitting practice whole-heartedly. Yet no insight would emerge! I knew it must; I was desperate. I spent my time between the intense sitting sessions crying or feeling cheated and angry. Why could I not see? Finally, during a rest period, I put a book of Buddhist sutras under my pillow and told myself that “the truth will surely sink into my head while I’m sleeping and when I wake up, I’ll know it!” So I began to fall asleep, chuckling a bit over the silly pronouncement. But when I suddenly awoke, the first thing I saw was the door of my room and it immediately triggered something. It was a door transformed into an opening in my mind that was shockingly instantaneous and complete. Truth was there, more solid than the door. It was just pure knowing (which I will try to relate something of here). The silly effort of mine had worked, I guess. Even though it is a relatively small insight, nonetheless it greatly boosted my faith and encouraged further practice. Now I know that enlightenment is possible (someday I will truly achieve it!). It is not a dream. It is just our own deep realization of what is. As such, I believe that true experiences of enlightenment, insight (or whatever we wish to call it), have the power to transform every individual on countless levels.


In a flash
There is an understanding
Or is it an understanding?
It is more like a window – or a door
Suddenly thrown open

In front of your eyes
Filling all of space
Is simply one knowledge
It is the light of reality

Eternity pours through the universe
Splitting it
Tearing it apart
An enormous chasm stands revealed
Flowing within, a great river

Or twin rivers yet one
Perfect Love and Intelligence
Nothing else.
The very substance of all things
The beginning and the end
Wide and deep
Broad and vast

Love the origin?
Intelligence the expression?
No they really run together….
They cannot be considered separate
Standing as Truth, peerless
Without anything to obstruct

So what is everything else?
All of the “things”;
Human machinations,
Good and bad,
What is mentally created,
What we should do or shouldn’t
That which we suffer for?

Only smoke
Smoke rising in circles
From endless time
Obscuring the truth
But never diminishing it

Of no real substance
It’s all the conditioning
Everything anybody’s ever told us
Everything we’ve ever come to know
One step acting on another
Twisting and transforming
So-called individual personality

But we are far beyond that!
In true nature the self is whole
Never once blighted or injured
Storming through eternity
In power and peace
Or like the eye of a whirlpool
Deep and quiet, yet dynamic

Once a window is opened
It might shut again swiftly
But the taste, the memory lingers
Desire to attain
Such bliss of reality
Such clear sight provoking
The right way of living
Is intensified

To follow the twin rivers
And arrive at their source;
See into nature
And manifest it.
What life’s purpose could be greater?
Therefore, this is a vow.