The Function of a Zen Center
from a talk by Joko Beck
What I want to talk about today is the function of a Zen Center.
In a general way we can say that the function of a Zen Center is to support
practice: of course that's true. But we have a lot of illusions about Zen Centers, as we do about
teachers. And one thing we tend to think is that a Zen center is a place that
should be very nice for me - in other words, it should be
non-threatening - I think a good center should
be quite threatening at times. It is not the function of a center to take care of your
comfort or your social life. By that I don’t mean that we should not have social
functions - I think they’re great – but they are not the primary function of a
center. A Zen Center’s function is not to provide people with a social life.
It’s not necessarily supposed to make them feel good, and it’s not supposed to
make them feel special.
A center is primarily a powerful tool to assist us in waking up. As a sangha practicing
at a center, yes, we need to support each other, but the nature of that support may
not be exactly the kind of support that is often seen in an office. You know, a
girl’s boyfriend leaves her – “Oh, you poor thing! Why you know, when
my boyfriend left me...” and off we go. There’s a “we’re all victims
in this together” attitude, which is not support. The more we practice well, the
less of that fake kind of support is what is met at a good center.
It should be a place that give us support, yes, but also challenges us; and in
that sense we're all teachers of one another. Some of the most powerful
teachings at a center have nothing to do with the teacher; sometimes the
teaching is from another person, coming directly from that person's experience.
To be honest, to be aware of what real practice is, and to share it with others
- this is what makes a center a different kind of place to be.
Sadly enough, Zen Centers tend to be somewhat ego-perpetuating: we want them to
be bigger, better, more important than the other guy’s center, certainly! There are very
subtle ego currents that can circulate in a Zen Center, as in any other
organization, if we are not especially careful.
And some thoughts on the sangha: one point is crucial – the longer people have
been practicing, the less important the outward role should be. And for that
reason I don't want people who have been practicing for a long time to
assume that they are always going to be
monitors - sometimes, yes, of course. But the more senior
the student, the more I want their influence to be felt through their practice,
and through their willingness not to seem important; and to let the newer
students begin to assume some of the outwardly conspicuous positions.
The mark of senior students is to be working when no one else knows they’re
there. I see people working in the Center office at odd hours; sometimes I come
back from shopping and they're working hard. That’s a sign of mature practice, getting the job done and keeping our
own importance out of it. Personally I’m trying to go that way by downplaying
the tremendous importance given to the role of a teacher. And I want this to
apply to all of the older students. So if you feel you are not getting to do
what you usually do, GREAT! Then you have something nice to practice with.
Another mark of a good Zen Center is that it shakes all of us up; it is not the
way we want it in our pictures. So, in our upset, what we get back to, then, is
the basis of practice: which is, as near as I can put it into words, to assume
more and more of an observer stance in our life.
By that I mean that everything in our life will continue to take place: the
problems, the emotional difficulties, the pleasant days, the ups and downs,
which are what human life consists of – but it is the ability not to get caught
– to enjoy what’s happening when it’s good, to have equanimity when it’s bad and
to observe it all, which is the continuing work.
The mark of maturing practice is simply the ability, more and more, to notice
what’s going on and not be caught by it. Easy to talk about, but probably 15 to
20 years of hard practice are needed before we are like that a good part of the
time.
And that is not the final stage. When there is no object, no person, no event,
no thing in the world with which I identify, by which I’m caught – when there is
no object and no observing self – then there is a flip into what, if you wish to
give it a name, is the enlightened state.
I have never known anyone whom I felt had accomplished that, but some persons
have done well; and, if you are lucky enough to encounter such a person, you
sense the difference in one who is not caught by life (needing it, craving
something or someone, insisting that life be a certain way). You notice that
such a person is at peace and free.
These are the people who are a healing and beneficent influence on any life that
is near to them. They don’t have to do anything – the healing comes from the way
they are. The transformation is what we want from practice. We are more than
lucky to have such an opportunity in this lifetime. Let’s take advantage of it
and do our very best.
(c) 1986 Charlotte Joko Beck