Although the ceremonies at Zen temples might look like the ones you see at houses of worship in other faiths, the approach we take is a little different. No one ever insists you must believe in any of the rituals and chants and suchlike in Zen. You’re not worshipping anyone. You’re not pledging your allegiance to the temple or to Buddha. You’re not heaping praise upon unseen entities.
The chanting is just chanting. The bowing is just bowing. The bells are just bells.The statues are just statues. The priests are just people. The combined activities engaged in at these ceremonies have a genuine effect that you can feel. But there is nothing supernatural about any of it. (Brad Warner - link)
We had a couple of new people for our ceremony last night. I'm always curious about what people's experiences are as they start attending a Zen group (perhaps because my own beginnings were so long ago that I hardly remember them!). What do people make of the ceremony? The bowing, the chanting, and so on. My first teacher, the late Taiho Kyogen Roshi (we just called her Onesan, or 'big sister') was at pains to not explain the ritual to us when we started. "Just do what I do," she said to me once, or words to that effect. I found it bewildering - but at the same time quite compelling.
I know that some people come to Zen, or to Buddhism more generally, as a refuge from the religion in which they grew up and perhaps have rejected or taken against. Some of the ritual elements - the 'form' as we say - can really rub them up the wrong way, and they can react quite strongly against being asked to bow, to walk in the zendo in a certain way, to chant, even to sit in straight lines in a pre-given posture. And while I understand this response, I can get frustrated that people mistake the form of our Zen practice for something other than it is.
I quote Brad Warner above, from an old post of his, because I think he puts it very well. Zen ritual is not about the supernatural, like it often is in other traditions, even Buddhist traditions. We're not invoking Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, not engaging in an act of worship or abasing ourselves before anything. And yet: we bow. We chant. We do offer "flowers, candlelight and incense." So the question naturally arises: to whom do we make this offering?
This question, of course, is based on a false premise. It's based on the premise that there's us, here, and something else, out there. That we can in some way influence or be influenced by an Other. But in Zen, this is a mistake. There is no Other. Once we learn to see clearly, once we develop the habit of not imposing a personal lens on our perceptions of the world, we see that it is all connected. So we are not offering incense to anyone or anything. We just offer incense. We offer. The grammar of our language breaks down at this point, verbs which should have objects stand seemingly alone, and yet this act of offering (to nothing, to no-one) is perfect just as it is enacted. Just do it.
Now I'm not saying that there aren't aspects of traditional Zen ritual that aren't problematic. I'm not entirely sure we've cracked the role of our women ancestors in our ceremony (though we've started, and include the names of some of them in our service). And I'm still deeply suspicious of the notion of 'transfer of merit'. But still: I bow, I chant. I call out the eko, the merit transfer, and put myself into it entirely. And this is my practice. Just as my zazen is my practice, this form is not different from that.