11. Hyewŏl Innocent and Pure

Sakyamuni Buddha suspended dog meat from the tree on Mount Grdhrakuta, where he used to preach his discourses; his ten most prominent disciples and also boddhi-sattvas Manjusri (文殊) and Bhadra (普賢), vied in selling mutton;

Bodhi Dharma brought talismans from India and sold them in China.

The enigmatic talismans Dharma brought to China were letterless and formless talismans. He taught like this, saying, "If anybody has this talisman with him, he is free from the pain of birth and death, and his bad habits, which have existed from time immemorial, will be eliminated, so that he will enjoy a happy life for hundreds of millions of years to come. Is anybody going to come and buy it without hesitating?"  Hui-k'o (Hui-k'o) bought it. Following this the third patriarch, the sixth patriarch Ma-tsu (馬祖), Lin-chi (臨濟) and Te-shan (德山) bought it, too. Lin-chi and Te-shan drummed and jingled and hawked the miraculous item, and millions of people came to know its efficacy,  Some of them had bought it as well. If there is any person who is willing to buy this talisman, come to me and I'll give it to you.

(Sitting silently for quite a while, he struck the chujangja three times)

In modern times, there was a toin, artless,frank,genuine,childlike and innocent. This was Zen Master Hyewŏl. He was entrusted with the chujangja of dharma transmission by Kyŏnghŏ (鏡虛), a great Zen master who revitalized Zen in modern times. He made a circuitous trip of the southern province, teaching many monks and guiding lay believers. He made a practice of leading a routine life rather than practicing meditation in the serene posture--working the land under the scorching sun, going to and from the marketplace, making straw shoes and knotting brooms. He thus made on example of leading a serene life in the midst of his simple everyday routine.

Hyewŏl's feat was the continuation of a life of musim (無心), the mind of nothingness--selflessness,guilelessness,artlessness,blamelessness. His was just like a two or three-year-old's behavior--acting just as he pleased, feeling no shame, independent and performing instantaneous deeds without consciousness of others. His was a life of innocence and frankness.

The following episode is an example of this. Hyewŏl had taken charge of Sŏnamsa (仙岩寺), in Pusan, as its administrator. One year he sold one acre ` of a first-rate rice field, and bought some rough land in the mountains, and reclaimed six hundred pyong (1 pyong is 3.954 sq. yds) of it as a rice field. Normally the sale of a one acre rice field should have brought an increase to the property, i.e, one and one half acres of a new rice field. Why, then, was he able to reclaim only half an acre of the new rice field? The main reason was the oft-repeated lecture session. The workers employed on the reclamation work frequently played truant, plodding to the rice field to listen to Buddhist sermons whenever they felt the need of rest. Thus, the lecture, when, was protracted beyond the expected length of time.

The reclamation project, whose purpose was to increase the budget of a small mountain temple, ended up reducing the volume of the property. However, when the junior monks complained about the project and expressed concern about the future management of the temple, Head Monk Hyewŏl retorted, "How foolish! Did one acre of rice field go somewhere else? It is still there intact for somebody else to cultivate. Furthermore, we reclaimed  another half acre of rice field from the sale of the original. How can you say that we reduced the volume of the property?"

In the world of Hyewŏl's calculation, just as in the world of many other toins, there was no distinction between "you" and "I", and between "yours" and "mine". He had no selfish motives, thus leaving a remarkable example behind.

He went to and from the marketplace, shopping by himself, far into his old age. One day, on his way to the market with an attendant, he met a woman merchant cajoling him to buy her bean sprouts. When he bought a bucketful, another woman merchant nearby said, "Why don't you buy mine?" He bought hers, too. A few steps away, a third woman urged him to buy her bean sprouts, so he bought hers as well. After this, he bought a few more and that day four or five bucketfuls of bean sprouts were brought up to the temple.              

Here is another episode. He had absolutely no sense of possession. Once, when he was about  to leave the temple, a beggar approached him and asked for his robe. He undressed, gave his clothes to the beggar, and waited for the beggar to undress himself. Then he put on the beggar's clothes and left the place.

How great! This is no easy deed to imitate. If there is any sense of distinction and consciousness of 'self', such a deed is impossible. This must be called a deed of innocence and childlikeness.

Let me describe a third episode. On his way to the marketplace, shopping for the 49th-day memorial rite (齋, pronounced sasip kujae), for the soul of a certain dead person, Sŏnim Hyewŏl came across a woman weeping on the roadside with her baby in her arms. He approached the woman and asked her why she was crying. The woman told him that her house had burned down and that she had no place to go. He then handed her the money which was to be used for the preparation of the rite and said, "This money will buy you a small house."

He returned to the temple empty-handed, and the young monks in charge of the rite, finding that the load, which would normally involve many carriages, had not been carried to the temple, asked Sŏnim Hyewŏl,  "Sŏnim, why have the things for the rite not been delivered?"

Hyewŏl answered, "The rite has been held and the soulhas gone to the world of sukhavati, the world of eternal peace."

The next day the mourners and relatives of the bereaved family mobbed the temple, but no preparations had been made for the rite. A representative of the bereaved family asked Sŏnim Hyewŏl for an explanation. He told him what had happened and said, "The rite has already been observed and the soul of the dead went to the kungnak." The mourners and the host of the 49-day rite, the uposadha, were delighted and offered to pay the cost of the rite once more. They then treated the priests to a good feast.    

One day  Sŏnim Kobong (高峰), together with some senior priests, taking advantage of Hyewŏl's absence, sold the farm cow and treated themselves to a feast with the money. Returning to the temple and discovering that the cow had been sold, he yelled to the gathered monks, saying, "Come forward, cow seller!" Then Kobong came forward, and began to crawl around the room, making the sound of a cow. Hyewŏl, pounding his back, shouted, "This is not the cow. Bring the cow!" A profound meaning exists in this story. Through this situation Hyewŏl reveals the doctrine of Buddha.

During the Japanese occupation of Korea, Governor General Minashiro (南次郞) heard about the fame of Sŏnim Hyewŏl and called on him, accompanied by his aides. After exchanging greetings, he asked for a discourse, saying, "Sŏnim, can you tell me one deep and high truth of Buddha?"

Hearing this, Hyewŏl answered, "The profound truth of Buddha? It's the hair in the breaking wind of a ghost." The Governor General envisioned the ghosts as invisible beings, breaking wind and having hair in the wind. How fearful and disgusting! He withdrew silently.

The Japanese high officials were well aware that the Japanese invading forces of 1592 had been repelled by the formidable force of the Buddhist religion of the time, which had been led by two great Buddhist patriarchs, Sŏsan (西山) and Samyŏng (四溟). Thus, they always made a practice of calling on the famous Buddhist leaders of the area or country.

The rumor that the Japanese Governor General had and received a cold reception from Hyewŏl and withdrawn in disgust spread throughout Japan, and one Japanese swordsman crossed the Eastern Sea of Korea to take revenge on Sŏnim Hyewŏl. Hardly had he entered Hyewŏl's room when he took out his sword and thrust the blade onto Hyewŏ'l's collar. He demanded, "Are you Sŏnim Hyewŏl?"

"Yes, I am." With this response, Hyewŏl pointed his finger at the intruder's back. Recalling that an attempt had been made to murder him from behind, the intruder turned. Then Sŏnim Hyewŏl stood up and hammered his fists on the intruder's back, saying, "This is my sword!"

The swordsman sheathed his sword and offered bows, then turned and left the place, saying, "You are really great!"

It was Hyewŏl's quick wits which enabled him to display such a reaction in this dangerous and urgent situation. If he had shown fear, he would have lost his life.

In the mind of man, there is a sword sharper than that of a samurai--that is the sword of anguish. Over-confidence, arrogance, envy, jealousy, desire--all these things entwine themselves around us and snare us. Zen meditation is the process of eliminating these deep shrouds. If we make a sincere effort to purify our minds and only if we have reached a pure state of nothingness, then we will know that there is nothing to be afraid of. In other words, we will never feel fear or anxiety again.

Do you understand toin Hyewŏl?

(After a while he composed a hymn, saying:)

嘉女已歸霄漢去

哀郞依舊守空房

The fair lady has gone

To Heaven a long time ago;

The mournful groom is still keeping

A lonely,  faithful vigil.

Why do I make this final utterance? There is deep truth in it, and I want all of you to keep this in mind.

[On the 1st of November, 1990]

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