What Is a Koan (Part 2)
files for cases with no prior precedent. In the Chan (Zen) tradition, by contrast, the term refers to the individual awakening cases of ancient Chan masters. They are stories of exchanges between Chan lineage patriarchs and their discipl...
Koans originated as case records kept by government offices: files for cases with no prior precedent. In the Chan (Zen) tradition, by contrast, the term refers to the individual awakening cases of ancient Chan masters. They are stories of exchanges between Chan lineage patriarchs and their disciples—exchanges that, to ordinary ways of thinking, often seem utterly nonsensical or contrary to all reason.
To someone with only a superficial understanding of Chan, or who does not grasp the unique nature of Chan practice, a koan sounds like little more than the incoherent rambling of lunatics. Broadly speaking, koans that are easy to parse and carry a clear, obvious meaning are considered shallow, while those that are bewildering and linguistically opaque are regarded as more profound.
In the 250 years following the Sixth Patriarch Huineng, the living teaching of Chan flourished. From Huineng’s circle of disciples, to fourth-generation masters Zhaozhou, Huangbo, and Weishan, to fifth-generation masters Linji, Yangshan, and Deshan, all used this method of sudden awakening to help countless practitioners experience enlightenment.
The full set of these Chan koans numbers 1,700 in total. Before the Northern Song dynasty, no one had gathered or organized them. It was during the Northern Song that the master Fenyang Shanzhao first compiled the Hundred Cases of the Ancient Worthies. Practitioners draw on the stories in this collection to pose a question: How did the patriarchs awaken from such-and-such an exchange? To keep pressing this question, over and over, is what is called investigating a koan.
When a practitioner reaches a certain stage in their practice, their teacher will point them to a specific koan to investigate; working with this koan will help them advance further. If, however, the teacher is unskilled and assigns a koan at random—one that does not suit the student’s capacity—then the student’s investigation will bear no fruit.
Investigating a koan isn’t a matter of guessing or speculating, nor of using one’s intellect to reason and deliberate over it. It can’t be explained through common sense or through knowledge of Buddhist doctrine. Many people have written books attempting to explain koans, but such efforts amount merely to explanation—not to investigation—and have no bearing on the experience of awakening. So can koans be explained? In a sense, yes; but when it comes to their function in Chan practice, analyzing koans serves no purpose.
Until one has personally broken through to direct understanding, a koan is merely a tool. Only after this breakthrough can one perceive the koan’s lively, vibrant essence. You can’t realize the awakening experiences of the Chan patriarchs through intellectual reasoning or imagination. You must arouse a deep, abiding doubt about the matter at the heart of the koan—posing the question without trying to resolve it through your own logical reasoning.
Even after a koan has been investigated and realized, this realization can’t be fully laid out and shared with others through words or writing. It can only be communicated—through gestures and unspoken signs—to those whose attainment is equal to or greater than one’s own. This is what is called mind-to-mind seal: a direct, wordless understanding that passes from one heart to another.