Unmon's Bowl and Bucket

Banshō's commentary on the case

The Huayan says: One dust mote enters right absorption; from all dust motes, samadhi arises. It also says, “Each dust mote is thus; each phenomenon is thus.”³ At the place of his question, this monk directly wanted Unmon to bring it out before his face. Unmon said, “Rice in the bowl; water in the bucket.” Now say: did he bring it out, or not? Some immediately recognize it, send off the matter in harmony with the sound, and present the pivotal working through the phrase. Some say, “In the bowl, every grain of rice is round; in the bucket, every drop of water is wet.” There is still another kind who asks, “What mortal urgency is there?” and says, “There is rice in the bowl; there is water in the bucket.” Foguo said, “I have rinsed my mouth for three years precisely because of your kind.” Setchō said, “A many-mouthed master finds it difficult to put down his mouth.” It turns out that he was timid—look! Tendō splits open the skin of the face. A monk asked National Teacher Zhong, “What is the great meaning of the Buddha Dharma?” The teacher said, “Ten thousand bodhisattvas in Manjushri Hall.” The monk said, “This student does not understand.” The teacher said, “Great Compassion's thousand hands and eyes.”⁴ Fojian versified: That year vegetables were cheap; radish heads covered the ground. One coin bought one; whoever got one ate until fully stuffed.⁵ Here you immediately see Tendō and Unmon extending a single hand and lifting a three-legged cooking pot whose leg is broken. The “Appended Statements” of the Yijing say: The way of principled people is sometimes to go forth, sometimes to remain; sometimes to be silent, sometimes to speak. When two people unite in heart, their sharpness cuts gold. Words from united hearts have fragrance like orchids. The commentary says: Gold is a firm and hard thing, yet their sharpness can cut it—this expresses the extremity of sharpness.⁶ The “Cypress Boat” poem in the Bei section of the Book of Odes says: My heart is not stone; it cannot be turned. My heart is not a mat; it cannot be rolled. The commentary says: Though stone is hard, it can still be turned; though a mat is flat, it can still be rolled. The speaker means that the heart's resolve exceeds stone and mat in firmness and levelness.⁶ Now say: National Teacher Zhong, Fojian, Unmon, and Tendō—why are they in such mortal urgency? Piece after piece of sincere heart, yet few know the person; heap upon heap directly before the face, yet those who see are rare.