Are You Here for the Tea or the Ceremony?

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The disillusionment that I spoke of in my previous post left me questioning just about everything related to formal Zen practice – with the exception of the zazen, that is. I’d never had reason to doubt that. But how much of what we consider Zen practice is merely cultural artifact? How much is religious accretion? What is essential, and why? What do I really believe, and why? And what do the answers to these questions mean for how I actualize practice in my own life? Obviously, these aren’t questions that can be resolved overnight. They must be “lived into,” tested out for efficacy and authenticity.

 

Bowl of Green Tea

I had the good fortune to practice with a number of teachers while living into these questions. One was the abbot of a Korean Seon (Zen) temple from whom I learned, along with other things, the Korean form of the tea ceremony. Over the course of some months she taught me how to arrange the various cups, bowls, and utensils, how to use the just-boiled water for warming up the cups, how to measure the loose tea and discern when the boiled water had cooled to just the right temperature for steeping it, and how to pour successive measures into each of the required cups until all of them were filled with a brew of the exact same quality and strength. Of course, we also enjoyed some glorious tea – after sitting zazen, that is.

The various tea ceremonies elevate one of the simplest of life experiences to the level of pure art. Their ritualistic nature allows us to lose ourselves in their unfolding – focusing our attention, and heightening our senses all the while. Sure, we can prepare a cup of tea in whatever manner we’ve grown accustomed, and perhaps even lose ourselves in the experience as we do. There is something about shared ritual, though, that enhances the potential for such transcendence.

And so it is with formal Zen practice. Like the tea ceremony, it couches in communal ritual that which is actually a very simple and straightforward endeavor. Just as the consumption of tea is the common denominator of the variously intricate tea ceremonies, so zazen is the common denominator of Zen, Seon, and Chan practice in the Japanese, Korean, and Chinese traditions, respectively. Put more simply: the ritual and ceremony may vary, but zazen (seated meditation) is indispensable. Which is not to say that ritual should be cast aside as unimportant.

Ritual serves the purpose of preparing us mentally and physically for zazen. Entering the room where you sit in the same way every time, approaching the altar and preparing it in the same way every time – these ritual activities focus your mind, calm your being, and enable you to more quickly and easily settle into your zazen. Feel free to ascribe whatever meaning you find appropriate to these preparatory activities. However, their ability to settle and prepare you for your zazen is real.

It is my hope, whether you’ve had to leave more formal Zen practice behind, or whether you’ve never had the opportunity to engage in it in the first place, that you will discover authentic ritual all your own in which to couch your zazen. Don’t forget that your zazen is the “tea” around which your ceremony is built. Make it meaningful. Make it yours. Make it a practice from which you drink deeply each day.

 

Copyright 2021 by Mark Robert Frank


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