We are able to practice Zen today because of many the people, places, and communities that sustained the tradition in the past. We do well to remember and honor our Zen history. In the commercialized Western culture in which I live, it’s far too easy to become enamored of Zen as “the next new thing!” We may lean towards forgetting that it’s an ancient tradition.
Yet the way in which this honoring is traditionally done in Zen is highly problematic.
Lineage tends to be a big deal in Zen. We pretend that Zen teachers have descended in a tidy patriarchal spiritual bloodline from Shakyamuni Buddha down to the present. This list of names of the “Zen masters” in each generation is often chanted at sutra services and inscribed on scrolls. Yet, as I discussed in an earlier post, one problem is that the bloodline excludes women, at least until very recent generations. Another is that it is based on a largely fictional and retrospectively-created “history.” It was invented in order to gain acceptance in East Asian cultures as well as fortify claims to authority and imperial support. Dangerously, presence of a teacher’s name on a lineage chart is often (mis-)interpreted as a guarantor of their maturity, competence, and trustworthiness. It tends to reinforce the idea that the Zen teachers listed are a special class of being who deserve reverence and obedience. That kind of thinking opens the door to pride and abuse of power.
But who, and what, has actually supported our Zen practice? How could we represent our heritage in a way that honors our traditions without reproducing their troublesome aspects?
I’ve created a chart that, for me, better portrays what has nurtured me as a life-long Zen learner.
First, I took the traditional continuous red “bloodline” and added breaks and branchings. This better evokes, for me, the actual complicated nature of our heritage. I then piled these lines up to make an image of a bird’s nest. The nest symbolizes the nurturing of the young of a new generation.
To represent development over time, I have written Shakaymuni Buddha’s name at the base of the nest. Just above his name I have put a layer with the names of some of the South Asian ancestors off a traditional lineage chart. Because there will be so many names, I have used smaller fonts to suggest names further back in a three-dimensional the nest, with even more names (in our imagination) hidden behind those. We honor the persistence of our ancestors in the face of persecution and other obstacles.
Yet there were other ancestors who were considered to be unworthy of engaging in practice due to their sex or class. They had to fight for access to the teachings and a place in the sangha. This includes Buddhist nuns. A number of important teachings also came from people who never entered a monastery. And Buddhist communities may have quickly died out if they hadn’t received critical financial support. So there are names of a number of individuals other than monks included in this layer. For example, Mahapajapati led the group of women who overcame Shakyamuni’s initial resistance and established the first order of nuns. I added Vimalakirti because, although he is probably a mythical figure, his story is important to laypeople and practice in the world.
Physical places have also supported our practice. Forests and mountains were often sites of monasteries or temples. Sutras were often preserved in temples and caves. So to the branches of nurturing support I’ve added the Bodhi Tree, where legend has it that the Buddha touched the earth to call it as witness to his awakening. Deer Park is where it is said that he preached his first sermon.
And, far from being least important, our practice has been sustained by Buddhist communities or sangha. We don’t seem know much about particular early Buddhist communities in India, since after persecutions Buddhism later died out there. However, Buddhism traveled to Sri Lanka in the 200s BCE and persisted there to the present time. I’ve chosen to put Mihintale, which according to Sri Lankan legend is the location of the first Buddhist sangha in Sri Lanka, into this South Asian layer. (Since many communities were named after their location, the names of places and communities often overlap.)
The next layer up adds in Chan, as Zen was known in China. I’ve included names of illustrious monks, nuns, and laypeople of that era, as well as important communities and places. Sohi, for example, was a woman “Dharma heir” of Bodhidharma. Dong Mountain Monastery was the first settled Chan community and Chu-lin was the first Chan convent. The Pang family were important lay practitioners. The Dunhuang Caves sheltered Buddhist scrolls dating from as early as the 4th century BCE until their discovery in the 20th century.
The next layer adds Japanese Zen. Empress Komyo founded the first Zen convent and was known for her good works. Tokei-ji was a temple where women could find refuge from abusive marriages. Eihei-hi was the community founded by Eihei Dogen.
The top of the nest reflects my own heritage of ancestors, communities, and places in the United States. It reflects both the Sanbo Kyodan and Soto (through female ancestor Jiyu Kennett) influences of my early practice, and the Soto (through ZCLA) influence of my more recent years. The person influenced and nurtured by all this is the baby buddha: me. How could I not be grateful!
Might there be some thorny sticks in the nest? I’m afraid so. We know of teachers who abused students, temples that exploited peasants, and communities that lost their way by seeking money and power, and others who turned a blind eye to these problems. The fact that we are all both fully Buddha Nature and fully limited karmic human beings means that purity can’t be expected. What we can do, though, is dedicate ourselves to making sure that our generation—the lining of the nest—cradles the next round of initiates rather than stabbing them.
If I had stopped the history at 2007, this Ancestor Nest would represent my heritage as I first entered the Buddha way in the ceremony of jukai. I wish I had been given this instead of the traditional patriarchal lineage chart.
Adding the name of the teacher who gave me Dharma transmission, I feel it represents my heritage as a “transmitted” teacher or sensei. I’m still a baby buddha, even if I may have a few more years of experience on the path than a new student. (In the face of the infinite, that isn’t much!) Associating one’s name with the baby Buddha serves as a constant reminder that no one—even the oldest and wisest of teachers—can stop being a learner.
When I next take on the role of teacher in the ceremony of jukai, I would prefer to give out an Ancestors Nest rather than a “bloodline” one (or even two, the traditional bloodline and this women ancestor’s chart, as I have recently). In such a case, I would add my name to the nest-builders while the student would be the hatchling.
I would love to hear comments on these ideas, either right on this blog or privately to seido(at)julieanelson.com.
Julie A. Nelson 
