Gantō Bows to the Shout

Banshō's commentary on the case

Ordinarily Tokusan struck wind and beat rain. One day Gantō spread his sitting cloth. Tokusan used his staff to lift it and cast it below the steps. Gantō descended, gathered the cloth, and immediately left. The next day he came up and stood in attendance. Tokusan asked, “Where did you learn this empty display?” Gantō said, “I would never dare deceive myself.” Tokusan said, “Later you will defecate on this old monk's head.” A father hearing that his son is strong regrets that he cannot kill his own body. Only when insight surpasses the teacher is transmission possible.³ Everywhere this question is called “the mechanism of crossing the threshold.” Gantō did not necessarily literally straddle the threshold when he first asked it. Once a non-Buddhist concealed a live sparrow in his hand and asked the World-Honored One, “Is the sparrow in my hand alive or dead?” The World-Honored One placed one foot across the threshold and said, “You tell me: do I intend to go out or enter?” The question “Is it ordinary or sacred?” truly has this principle.⁴ Long ago Puhua pointed to the sacred monk's image and asked Rinzai, “Tell me: is this ordinary or sacred?” Rinzai immediately shouted. Puhua said, “Heyang's new bride, Muta's old-woman Zen, and Rinzai the little brat—yet he possesses one eye.” Rinzai said, “This old thief!” Puhua left the monks' hall crying, “Thief! Thief!” Shuzan said, “Among these two thieves is one principal thief. Tell me which.” In his place he answered, “Liu Penzi.”⁵ Gantō asked, “Is it ordinary or sacred?” Tokusan immediately shouted, much as though he were conferring with Rinzai and comparing their tests. Gantō bowed, just like “Rinzai the little brat—yet he possesses one eye.” Setchō said, “The moment he bowed, Tokusan should have struck him across the spine. This would not only have annihilated Tōzan; it would also have held old Huo fast.” This studies alongside Rinzai's “This old thief!” When Tōzan heard the story he said, “Had it not been Master Huo, it would have been extremely difficult to take responsibility for it.” Foguo commented, “A bystander possesses the eye,” and also, “He knows only one, not two.” Banshō's view is otherwise. Foguo said, “Though Tōzan as bystander possessed the eye, he saw only that the awl-point was sharp.” Banshō says: though Abbot Foguo possessed the eye, he did not see that the chisel-head was square. Tōzan deliberately used “taking responsibility” to frame Gantō with stolen goods, wanting to disclose whether the original bow held provisional or real function. Sure enough, when fire reached Gantō's head, he hurriedly scattered it: “Old Tōzan does not know good from bad. At the time, with one hand I raised; with the other I pressed down.” Only then did each house light its lamp and eat its meal; the two were distinct. Have you not seen Master Yong of Baoning's verse? A rabbit runs across level ground; release the goshawk. One press immediately devours both eyes. Poison hands seize it; another buys it away. What can be done when weight and measure remain unclear? The first line versifies the threshold question; the second Tokusan's shout and Gantō's bow; the third Tōzan naming the price and taking the profit. The last is precisely Banshō's point. Do you want weight and measure made clear? In fact Foguo and Banshō do not contend over whose head is high or low. Look further at Tendō putting it once on the scale-pan. This verse says all three men frustrate the approaching mechanism and each gathers authority. Only Gantō and Tokusan possess majesty that must be enacted and a command that cannot be violated. “The guest remains deferential and the host grows arrogant” concerns Tōzan and Gantō. “The ruler resents remonstrance and the minister flatters” concerns Gantō and Tokusan. The last two lines concern Tōzan and Gantō. Everywhere this model is called selecting and glossing. To separate milk from water requires the goose king; here one sees Tendō's skill with needle and thread. Gantō knew Tokusan possessed must-enact majesty and an inviolable command. Therefore he did not seize the mechanism but, following the situation, bowed. Tōzan knew Gantō did not accept probing or extraction, nor inspection or penalty; the son had inherited the father's enterprise and also possessed must-enact majesty and an inviolable command. He therefore baited the hook: “Had it not been Master Huo, it would have been extremely difficult to take responsibility.” Is this not “the guest remains deferential and the host grows arrogant; the ruler resents remonstrance and the minister flatters”?² In the Rinzai house style this is called a red-thread noose, a blue-jade pitfall, a tiger-trapping mechanism, concealed troops provoking battle. Everywhere they say Gantō lifted with one hand and pressed with the other, while Tōzan mistakenly imposed words. Little do they know that Tōzan's own lifting and pressing were even clearer. Unless one is a seasoned adept, this is decidedly difficult to comprehend. One class of newly ordained novices today sees Tendō say, “one lifting and one pressing: look at the mind's operation,” and declares, “No wonder Zen people refuse to explain things to others. Originally it was all mental scheming, deliberately making clever devices to deceive students.” Banshō says: one measure of mental operation is one measure of compassion. Without taking one fall, one does not learn one turn. It may be said: fruit comes from within the flower; sweetness comes toward us from bitterness. Gantō lifted and pressed; Tōzan enticed it out. Tōzan lifted and pressed; Banshō explained it through. If someone suddenly came forward and bowed, Banshō would let him pass without striking. Why? There is no blood beneath his skin.