I-Kuan Tao (pronounced "yee guan dao") is one of the most significant spiritual movements in Taiwan. Its name can be literally translated as "The Tao that unifies all with the one."
The basis of I-Kuan Tao is rooted in Chinese traditions, with teachings emphasizing traditional values such as family, honor, respect and moderation. It is no exaggeration to call I-Kuan Tao the definitive and authentic Chinese form of spirituality.
The appeal of I-Kuan Tao is not limited to the Chinese. The movement is open to everyone regardless of ethnicity. Many people in the West have already experienced the warmth and acceptance of Tao practitioners. They have also discovered, within I-Kuan Tao, progressive teachings that resonate with the Western mind.
The Tao aspect of the I-Kuan Tao heritage is by far the oldest, going back to the time of Fu Hsi, the legendary emperor who lived over 4,800 years ago.
About 2,300 years after this ancient beginning, Lao Tzu came along to summarize Taoist beliefs and concepts into the classic Tao Te Ching. Another sage, Chuang Tzu, expanded upon these beliefs and concepts with stories, metaphors and a unique sense of humor.
To the Chinese, the Tao is simply the name we give to that which is spiritually divine. In that perspective, the various sages throughout history express the Tao in their own ways. Confucius studied the Tao to derive his philosophy, which had a profound impact not only in China, but also other Asian lands. The Buddha Sakyamuni taught the Tao in his own fashion, and impacted not only Asia but also the world. All of these sages are embraced by I-Kuan Tao.
Today, 2,500 years after the time of Lao Tzu, the teachings about the Tao have become the central tenets of I-Kuan Tao. These teachings describe the Tao as the ultimate principle beyond all principles and the ultimate power beyond all powers.
I-Kuan Tao asserts that the Tao is the essence and the spiritual truth behind all religions, philosophies, and schools of thought. It is also the source of everything, the driving mechanism of evolution, and the life force of the universe. The specialized name for this concept is Lao Mu, the personified manifestation of the nurturing, life-affirming, and creative power of the universe.
At about the same time as Lao Tzu and Chuang Tzu, other sages were also developing their own perspectives on life and spirituality. Confucius became renowned as a great teacher and scholar as he codified social customs and ethics. To the south of China, the Buddha taught his followers the path toward enlightenment.
Confucian teachings and Buddhist thoughts both had profound impact on Chinese culture. I-Kuan Tao recognizes their value, and integrates their teachings into the core of the belief system.
It is the nature of I-Kuan Tao to be open and receptive to different perspectives. The Tao goes beyond superficial, stylistic differences, and great wisdom should be treasured and cherished regardless of its source. By seeking commonalities among different traditions, I-Kuan Tao can move closer to the true essence, and perhaps avoid inflexible dogma.
Five hundred years after the time of Lao Tzu, another remarkable teacher came into the world. His name was Jesus. He left a legacy that would come to serve as the foremost foundation of spirituality in the West.
With the same openness and receptivity that it has for all beliefs, I-Kuan Tao embraces and incorporates Christian teachings. Many Tao practitioners respect and study the Bible, again seeking the common thread of truth and wisdom that can bring the different beliefs closer to oneness.
In terms of formal lineage, I-Kuan Tao traces back to Bodhidharma, the Indian monk who visited China and originated Zen Buddhism. I-Kuan Tao reveres Bodhidharma as the first patriarch, or spiritual ancestor.
The lineage founded by Bodhidharma passed down through the generations to Hui Neng, the sixth patriarch of Zen Buddhism. Hui Neng's deep insights and powerful intuition, as recorded in The Platform Sutra, became central elements of Tao cultivation.
The lineage continued on after Hui Neng, generation after generation. The last patriarch of the lineage was the eighteenth. This final position was shared by two individuals that Tao practitioners call Shi Zun (literally "Teacher-Reverend") and Shi Mu (literally "Teacher-Mother").
In 1930, Shi Zun and Shi Mu started their practice of I-Kuan Tao in Chi Nan City, Shang-Dong Province. Their work spread by word of mouth, and by 1946 I-Kuan Tao became prevalent among 36 provinces of China.
At the end of the Civil War in 1949, many I-Kuan Tao followers in China found their beliefs incompatible with Communist doctrines. They followed Shi Zun and Shi Mu out of China, and established themselves in Taiwan.
I-Kuan Tao thrived and spread in Taiwan, despite initial attempts by the government to suppress it. Soon there were millions of followers, hundreds of temples, and tens of thousands of family shrines. This popularity was partly because I-Kuan Tao offered new thinking that changed the religious landscape.
Previous to the influence of I-Kuan Tao, the vegetarian lifestyle was thought to be the sole domain of monks and nuns. I-Kuan Tao questioned this commonly accepted convention, and advocated vegetarianism for all Tao cultivators.
Because of this, vegetarianism became much more widespread. It used to be difficult to find vegetarian restaurants in Taiwan. Today anyone can find several within walking distance. This change would not have taken place without I-Kuan Tao.
I-Kuan Tao insisted on having meetings where the learned can share their spiritual insights with others. This was quite different from the old paradigm, where monks and nuns studied scriptures but did not necessarily discuss them with the lay public in regularly scheduled classes.
Over time, people gradually became aware of the I-Kuan Tao approach. They started to understand that the focus should not be on building temples or collecting donations. Spiritual teachings should take center stage. One by one, religious institutions adapted to this new awareness. Today, seminars and public forums on spiritual topics have become commonplace in Taiwan. The people benefit.
Not everyone is aware of the pivotal role that I-Kuan Tao has played in the above. This is because Tao cultivators refrain from trumpeting their own accomplishments. They prefer to do the work, achieve the result, and then quietly exit, hopefully without drawing any attention.
In this way, I-Kuan Tao adheres to the ancient teachings about the Tao. Like water, the Tao nourishes all, gives birth of all things, and then moves on to the next task without any expectations of recognition or rewards.
By seeking the commonality of all faiths and bringing everyone, regardless of religion, closer to the spiritual essence, I-Kuan Tao lives up to its name. It is truly the ideal of harmonious connections - the Tao that unifies all with the one.
2010年1月22日 星期五
The Thief and His Son
To explain the study of Zen and Tao, the Fifth Patriarch told this story:
"The Zen we have here is like an old thief who led his son into a mansion and instructed him to go into a walk-in closet to steal some clothes. As soon as the son went into the closet, the father closed the door and locked him in. He then ran through the hallway banging on doors and walls, making a loud racket before fleeing into the night.
"The residents got up, looked around and realized that there might still be a thief in the house. They banded together, lit a candle, and started searching room by room.
"The son, still trapped in the closet, was in a bad situation. Out of desperation, he made mouse noises, which attracted the searchers' attention. The master of the mansion ordered his servant to unlock the closet. The young man sprang out, blew out the candle, pushed the servant aside, and ran for his life. The residents regrouped and gave angry pursuit.
"The young man couldn’t shake them, but suddenly he saw a well up ahead and got an idea. He pushed a large rock into the well, and ran in a different direction. The residents heard the loud splash, assumed he fell in or jumped in the well, and went looking for him there.
"Thanks to this ploy, the young man was able to get away cleanly. He returned home to tell his father what happened. After he completed his report, his father said, 'You're ready to be a thief now.'"
Okay. What was the point of this rather long-winded story? What did the Fifth Patriarch mean when he said Zen was like these characters above? Think about it for a few moments before you read the next paragraph. Can you guess the meaning of this story?
The main point is that ultimately, Zen and Tao are concepts for each person to grasp individually. A student of Zen and Tao is like the young man in this story, and the master is like the father. A true master will provide a certain amount of guidance and lead the student along the path to a personal trial. For every piece of wisdom one gains, there is a corresponding trial which takes place in one’s heart as well as the mind.
When you undergo this process, you start out just like the young man, trapped, alone and in the dark. The lock that keeps you trapped isn’t a physical lock. Rather, it represents an obstacle to comprehension, and you need the key of insight to unlock it. In this critical juncture, it is entirely up to you to make a breakthrough. No one can help you.
Now why is that? By the above we have described the process, but not the reason. Why is this something that you must do by your lonesome?
By their very nature, Zen and Tao are highly personal. If someone were to explain them to you, all you'll get is a version of his understanding, expressed through the imperfect medium of his words. It still won't be your own understaning, because something is always lost in the transition, and his understanding is tied to his intuitions and perceptions, which are not and can never be your intuitions and perceptions.
The only way to make Zen and Tao uniquely your own is to find a way out of this maze in the heart and make your escape to realization and oneness. During this mental flight, your pursuers are the forces of ignorance and misconception, and when you succeed in getting away from them, understanding dawns, and a light bulb comes on in your mind. You experience that golden "eureka" moment and win another piece of the Truth.
That’s what the study of Zen and Tao is all about - personal breakthroughs leading to personal enlightenment. In the context of our story today, it's all about qualifying to be a thief… which, in turn, means taking another step toward becoming a true master.
"The Zen we have here is like an old thief who led his son into a mansion and instructed him to go into a walk-in closet to steal some clothes. As soon as the son went into the closet, the father closed the door and locked him in. He then ran through the hallway banging on doors and walls, making a loud racket before fleeing into the night.
"The residents got up, looked around and realized that there might still be a thief in the house. They banded together, lit a candle, and started searching room by room.
"The son, still trapped in the closet, was in a bad situation. Out of desperation, he made mouse noises, which attracted the searchers' attention. The master of the mansion ordered his servant to unlock the closet. The young man sprang out, blew out the candle, pushed the servant aside, and ran for his life. The residents regrouped and gave angry pursuit.
"The young man couldn’t shake them, but suddenly he saw a well up ahead and got an idea. He pushed a large rock into the well, and ran in a different direction. The residents heard the loud splash, assumed he fell in or jumped in the well, and went looking for him there.
"Thanks to this ploy, the young man was able to get away cleanly. He returned home to tell his father what happened. After he completed his report, his father said, 'You're ready to be a thief now.'"
Okay. What was the point of this rather long-winded story? What did the Fifth Patriarch mean when he said Zen was like these characters above? Think about it for a few moments before you read the next paragraph. Can you guess the meaning of this story?
The main point is that ultimately, Zen and Tao are concepts for each person to grasp individually. A student of Zen and Tao is like the young man in this story, and the master is like the father. A true master will provide a certain amount of guidance and lead the student along the path to a personal trial. For every piece of wisdom one gains, there is a corresponding trial which takes place in one’s heart as well as the mind.
When you undergo this process, you start out just like the young man, trapped, alone and in the dark. The lock that keeps you trapped isn’t a physical lock. Rather, it represents an obstacle to comprehension, and you need the key of insight to unlock it. In this critical juncture, it is entirely up to you to make a breakthrough. No one can help you.
Now why is that? By the above we have described the process, but not the reason. Why is this something that you must do by your lonesome?
By their very nature, Zen and Tao are highly personal. If someone were to explain them to you, all you'll get is a version of his understanding, expressed through the imperfect medium of his words. It still won't be your own understaning, because something is always lost in the transition, and his understanding is tied to his intuitions and perceptions, which are not and can never be your intuitions and perceptions.
The only way to make Zen and Tao uniquely your own is to find a way out of this maze in the heart and make your escape to realization and oneness. During this mental flight, your pursuers are the forces of ignorance and misconception, and when you succeed in getting away from them, understanding dawns, and a light bulb comes on in your mind. You experience that golden "eureka" moment and win another piece of the Truth.
That’s what the study of Zen and Tao is all about - personal breakthroughs leading to personal enlightenment. In the context of our story today, it's all about qualifying to be a thief… which, in turn, means taking another step toward becoming a true master.
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