This week Tesshin decided to lecture on case 50 from the master Dogen’s “The True Dharma Eye” collection of 300 koans. Case 50 is titled “Shilou’s Shortcomings” and is provided below:

Shilou was once asked by a monastic, “I don’t know the original nature yet.
Master, please show me by skillful means.”
Shilou said, “I don’t have earlobes [I have no ear to hear you].”
The monastic said, “I know I have shortcomings.”
Shilou said, “This old monastic has faults too.”
The monastic said, “What are your faults?”
Shilou said, “My fault lies in your shortcomings.”
The monastic bowed.
Shilou hit him.

Roshi started by breaking down the koan and explaining some of the key aspects. The student approaches the teacher and asks about the nature of reality. This is a common opening in a Zen koan. The teacher responds that he has no ears to hear the student. In other words, the teacher is asking the student what is the real nature of his question. The student is embarrassed that he asked such a question and replies that he has shortcomings in his understanding. The teacher responds that he also has faults and that these faults lie in the shortcomings of the student. What does this mean? It means that we all have shortcomings in our understanding and that there is no difference between the teacher and the student. Stated differently, there is nothing special which the master has which can be handed to the student. There is no magic “cheat code” to understand reality. When the student hears this, they had a Kensho experience. Finally, the teacher hits the monastic with his teaching stick. Roshi noted that the strike of the stick in not a punishment – rather it is an exhortation to keep pushing forward with practice. The Kensho is simply a beginning – it is not the end!

Roshi next shared that during the past week he was involved in a group discussion with another prominent teacher who was experiencing conflict in their sangha. Apparently, a junior teacher was abusing a student to such an extent that the student committed suicide. The teacher reached out to the Zen leadership community asking for advice. This got Roshi thinking about the nature of shortcomings. What does it mean to come up short as a teacher? The teacher must be concerned that they are failing as a spiritual leader. What about evil in the world? (e.g. the abuse) Roshi noted that our identity is based on this struggle between insecurity of our shortcomings and the evil of hubris. We should think of it as a continuum. In the koan, the monastic is really asking where the master is on this continuum. If the master has no faults, then the teacher would be “perfect”. However, the master is too accomplished to fall into the trap of hubris. “I also have faults!”

Roshi noted that it is the constant judging of our ego which leads to our suffering. We should ask – who set the standard for perfection, anyway! We desperately want to think that the teacher is a perfect being. Yes, they are a Buddha, but so are we. Judge, Judge, Judge!! Then we find the teacher smoking behind the Zendo and we are mentally crushed. Why – has anything changed in the teacher’s wisdom? At the other end of the continuum, we are quick to write off people who have committed crimes, have drug issues, or other trauma in their lives. How easy it is to judge from our luxurious perch! Some of the deepest Zen students find themselves behind bars for one reason or another. JUDGE, JUDGE, JUDGE. Just more noise in our mind which distracts us from the beauty of suchness.

Roshi reminded us that it is important to note that everyone comes up short and the evil nature in all of us is endless. This does not mean we do not have Buddha nature. When the monastic realizes that there are no real faults and that faults are endless, he had Kensho.

Roshi wrapped up by noting that a Bodhisattva serves not for others, but for themselves! We take the vow to serve not because we are “good” or “moral” people, but because we are humans and this is what it is our nature to do. I am you and you are me – this is the core message of non-duality and when we really understand this – as the monastic did – then the vow to save all beings becomes more than words – it becomes our life.