Hekiganroku / Biyan lu · CASE 45
Jōshū's Seven-Pound Shirt
The Blue Cliff Record
Engo's pointer
If you need to speak, speak—unmatched in the whole world. When action is due, act—the whole mechanism yields nothing. Like fire struck from stone, like a lightning flash; a swift flame outrunning wind, a racing current crossing a blade. Raise the tongs and hammer beyond, and still one cannot avoid losing the edge and being tongue-tied. I will open one narrow road. Attend to the case.
Case
A monk asked Jōshū, “The myriad dharmas return to one. Where does the one return?” Jōshū said, “When I was in Qingzhou, I had a cloth shirt made. It weighed seven jin.”1
Setchō's verse
With a converging press, he once crowded the old awl. The seven-jin shirt—how many people know its weight? Now I cast it into West Lake. The clear breeze of unloading—to whom shall it be entrusted?
Footnotes 4
- A jin was a traditional weight unit whose value changed historically. Leaving the unit untranslated avoids a spurious conversion; the source's point is the shirt's bluntly specific weight. ↩
- Engo identifies Setchō's local West Lake, making the act of disposal geographically concrete rather than merely literary. ↩
- The verse rejects claiming effortless ordinariness before the work of awakening; rest follows winning the race, even though the racecourse later stands idle. ↩
- “Beneath the three rafters” points to the monk's own place in the meditation hall. Engo ends by redirecting the requested definition of unloading into present practice. ↩
About this version and its sources
- Full source citation
- Editorial title: 趙州七斤布衫. Base: CBETA T2003, T48n2003_p0181c13–p0182b15. Angle brackets represent inline notes.
- Method
- Direct critical-edition translation from the cited received base text. Source claims, hagiography, uncertainty, and unresolved readings remain identified in the notes and project record.
- Editorial uncertainty
- Independent philological and reader review remain pending.
- Rights
- Project translation © Tulsa Zen Center Critical Edition contributors. Source text is cited by edition; redistribution policy requires final organizational approval.
- Revision identifier
- a4bb02c7c9fc
Engo's commentary on the case
If at the place of one strike you understand and immediately act, you pierce the nostrils of all the old masters in the world at once, and they can do nothing about you. Water naturally arrives and the channel forms. But if you hesitate, this old monk is beneath your heels. At the concise heart of the Buddha Dharma, words need not be many and speech need not be elaborate. This monk asks Jōshū, “The myriad dharmas return to one. Where does the one return?” Jōshū instead answers, “When I was in Qingzhou, I had a cloth shirt made. It weighed seven jin.” If you distinguish it through the words, you mistakenly recognize the fixed calibration mark on the scale. If you do not distinguish it through the words, what can you do about his speaking exactly this way? This public case is difficult to see but easy to understand; easy to understand but difficult to see. In its difficulty, it is a silver mountain and iron wall. In its ease, one is directly awake, with no place to calculate right and wrong. This saying and Puhua's “Tomorrow there is a vegetarian feast at the Great Compassion Cloister” are not two different kinds. One day a monk asked Jōshū, “What is the ancestral teacher's meaning in coming from the west?” Jōshū said, “The cypress tree before the courtyard.” The monk said, “Master, do not use an object to instruct people.” Jōshū said, “This old monk has never used an object to instruct people.” See how, at the ultimate, where turning is impossible, Jōshū can turn. Naturally he covers heaven and earth. If one cannot turn, every road becomes an obstruction. Tell me: is there Buddhist teaching in his discussion or not? If you say there is, when did he ever speak of mind or nature, arcane principle or subtlety? If you say there is no intent of the Buddha Dharma, he never fails the point of your question. Have you not seen a monk ask Master Muping, “What is the great meaning of the Buddha Dharma?” Muping said, “This winter melon is so large.” Another monk asked an ancient, “In the deep mountains, on an isolated cliff with no one present, is there still Buddha Dharma?” The ancient said, “There is.” “What is the Buddha Dharma deep in the mountains?” “The large stones are large; the small ones small.” Look at public cases of this kind. Where is the complication? Setchō knows where Jōshū lands, so he opens a path of meaning and versifies it for you. Among the eighteen kinds of question, this is called a converging question. Setchō says, “With a converging press, he once crowded the old awl.” The monk gathers the myriad dharmas and makes them return to one, intending to crowd and press Jōshū. Jōshū is undeniably an adept. At the place where turning is impossible, he has a road to emerge. He dares open his great mouth and say, “When I was in Qingzhou, I had a cloth shirt made. It weighed seven jin.” Setchō asks how many people can know this seven-jin shirt. “Now I cast it into West Lake.” The myriad dharmas return to one—but he does not want the one either. He does not want the seven-jin shirt. All at once he casts both into West Lake. Setchō lived at Cuifeng on Dongting, where there was a West Lake.2 “The clear breeze of unloading—to whom shall it be entrusted?” This derives from Jōshū instructing the community: If you come from the north, I load you up. If you come from the south, I unload you. If you come from Seppō or Yunju, you are still a fellow carrying a plank. Setchō asks: to whom is such a clear breeze fit to be entrusted? Loading up means explaining mind and nature, arcane principle and subtlety, through many kinds of skillful means. In unloading, there are no such principles or mysteries. Some carry an entire load of Zen to Jōshū's place, but not a speck of it can be used. All at once he clears it away, making them clean and free, without the smallest matter. This is called “After awakening, one is still like the time before awakening.” People now all understand this as simply having no affairs. Some say, “There is no delusion and no awakening; nothing further need be sought.” Before Buddha appeared in the world and before Bodhidharma came to this land, was it not already so? Then why did Buddha appear? Why did the ancestral teacher come from the west? Such claims have no connection. One must first awaken completely and greatly. Then mountains are still mountains, waters still waters, and all the myriad dharmas fully appear. Only then can one become a person without affairs. Ryūge said: To study the Way, first there must be a basis of awakening, just as one once raced a swift dragon boat. Though the former pavilion is now an idle field, only after winning once does one finally rest.3 Look at Jōshū's saying about the seven-jin shirt: the ancients spoke like gold and jade. This mountain monk speaks this way and all of you listen this way—everything is loading up. Tell me: what is unloading? Look beneath the three rafters.4