Renunciation - by Nonin Chowaney

Years ago, shortly after I began practicing Zen, I came across the following in an essay by Zen Master Dogen: "All the Buddhas of the Past, Present, and Future have renounced the World and found their true Way."

This raised many questions for me: What does it mean to renounce the world? Do I have to quit my job and become a monk? Don't all those Zen stories about living in the moment tell us that the only world we can live in is this one right here?

Everyone who walks the Zen path sooner or later comes up against the issue of renunciation. When I began, all our teachers were priests, and even though most were married, all had spent long periods of time in monasteries. They did tell us repeatedly that you didn't have to go to a monastery to be a serious practitioner, but all the old Buddhist literature holds up the monastic life as the ideal, and our teachers reinforced this by the pleasure they took in ordaining priests, by encouraging people to take this path, and by the wistful looks that came over their faces when talking about the monastic life!

So there was always a bit of a contradiction, and it caused a dilemma for some of us. Everyone said you don't have to go to a monastery to be a serious practitioner, but historically, nearly all serious practitioners and teachers were monks. Now that I've been a monk for a number of years, I realize that lay and ordained people both have to deal with renunciation and that there is no one way of practice that automatically resolves the issue, but I chewed on it a long time when I first started out.

Then, somewhere along the line, I came across these two passages in the works of ancient Masters. One is from Zen Master Dogen:

The second is from Zen Master Bukkoku:

So, I thought, if renunciation does not mean leaving the world and becoming a monk, what does it mean? And if there is no difference between the secular world and the priestly world, what did Dogen mean by "All the Buddhas of the Past, Present, and Future have renounced the world and found their true Way?"

The dictionary definition of "renounce" is "to give up; put aside voluntarily; to repudiate; to disown." "Renunciation" is defined as "relinquishing, abandoning, repudiating." By renouncing the world and turning toward the Way, what are we renouncing and what are we turning toward? If we closely examine what the world considers most important and what the Buddhas and Ancestors consider most important, we may be able to answer this question.

Most people consider fame, status, wealth, power, security, and sensual pleasure to be the most important things in life. A person's worth in the eyes of the world is determined by how successful he or she is in these areas. This is especially true in American culture. Monks are not thought of very highly in Omaha, or in any other part of America. In the words of Thomas Merton, "In a materialistic culture which is fundamentally irreligious, the monk is incomprehensible because he 'produces nothing.' His life appears to be completely useless." And not only monks are looked at in this way. Anyone who does not strive for what most people consider most important in life is regarded as an "underachiever" and lives on the fringes of mainstream American Society.

Even those of us who think we have turned our backs on what the World considers important sometimes forget the subtle hold these attitudes have on us. We take up a spiritual path and practice with a group but strive for status, fame, and power within our community and end up right where we started. We compete with other students for the teacher's recognition and favor, or we think we are better than other students when we sit more or answer a question correctly. We say we've given up shaping our attitudes by what the World considers most important, but how often do we determine a person's worth by what they do for a living? How many of us can say that we value a carpenter as much as a doctor, or a file clerk as much as a sculptor?

True renunciation means transforming our basic attitudes toward life. It means to turn away from what most people hold dear and turn towards what the Buddhas, the awakened ones, hold dear. It means to refocus yourself and your aim in life. The example of Shakyamuni Buddha is one we all need to remember. He was a Prince, and he had as much, or more, wealth, social status, fame, and power as anyone did in his culture, but he finally realized that these things could not bring him peace and contentment, so he renounced them. He spoke of his renunciation in this way: "Bodhisattvas should follow my example. I renounced my kingdom and attained complete enlightenment. You must be aware of how close the relationship between renunciation of the world and the eventual attainment of supreme enlightenment is."

This intimate connection between renunciation and enlightenment is one that needs clarification. We must remember that renunciation does not mean becoming a monk; it means "turning away and turning towards." Both the monk and the lay person must make this turn. The great Tibetan Master, Tson Ka Pa, put it this way: "When there is not the slightest ambition, even for a split second, for even the greatest successes in the world, the mind of renunciation has arisen." Renunciation, then, is a state of mind, the mind of "no worldly ambition," which means no ambition for success in the areas of fame, status, wealth, power, etc.

So, if we know what to turn away from, what do we turn toward? We turn toward the Way. But what does this mean concretely, in our daily lives? Zen Master Dogen said that, "When we begin to seek the way and practice zazen, the precepts must come first." The turning that is integral to renunciation involves transforming the way we live, and in Zen practice, Buddha's precepts are our main guides for this transformation.

These precepts have come down to us in many forms and in many different translations. Originally, there were eight, three Pure Precepts:

And five Prohibitory Precepts:

These eight precepts are still received and practiced in Theravadan countries today.

In Mahayana Buddhism, we have sixteen. These are the ones we receive in Soto Zen; they are called "Bodhisattva Precepts." We take them into our lives in many ways, formally during precept ceremonies and ordinations, and informally whenever we study them and take them into our hearts. The following are the ones we use at Nebraska Zen Center. They begin with Taking Refuge in The Triple Treasure:

Then, the three Pure Precepts:

Lastly, the Ten Prohibitory Precepts:

It takes some doing to understand these precepts fully and to live according to them, and we Westerners usually need to know and understand intellectually before we do something. But with the precepts, we shouldn't wait until we know them intellectually or get them figured out to practice with them. My master, Dainin Katagiri, said that, "Buddha's precepts are difficult to understand. But it's not necessary to understand. Just receive them and form a habit of living them just as a vow." When we do this, we take them into our lives, and they begin to transform us. We keep them in the forefront of consciousness, and they become more central in our lives. In this way, beyond intellection, the precepts guide us in those area in which renunciation is manifested and transformation realized.

Zen Master Dogen said, "Supreme Enlightenment is attained the moment you truly renounce the world and receive the precepts." The awakened person has turned away from living for personal aggrandizement and turned toward cultivating the Way. In Dogen's terms, renunciation of the world and receiving the precepts are synonymous, as are renunciation (receiving the precepts) and supreme enlightenment. Living our life according to the precepts is renunciation and enlightenment.

At our temple in Omaha, we study the precepts together during our preparations for ordination. I also try to speak about them during dharma talks whenever I can, for the importance of accepting the precepts and making them paramount in our lives cannot be underestimated. Over years of working with them, I have become aware of how all-pervading they are. Moment-by-moment, situations come up in which one of the precepts can be brought to bear. I've also become aware of which ones I need to work on, and frequently, I'll make a specific effort to practice a particular precept or work on one in an area of my life that needs it.

For example, "Acting wholesomely,' the second pure Mahayana Precept, means to make a positive effort to maintain peace and harmony among all beings. I've tried to make a special effort to work on this in our neighborhood here in Omaha, where we are members of our local Neighborhood Association. Someone from Zen Center attends all meetings, and we try to participate in neighborhood events as much as we can. In the past, I've served as meeting-attender. As with most groups, issues came up that polarized the neighborhood and meetings became strained as people doggedly clung to their positions and tried to convince others of their rightness.

Now, I can be as contentious as the next person, but early on, I decided to renounce my old ways of doing things and to act a little bit differently. Instead of forming rock-hard opinions and trying to convince others of their worth, I would try to listen to what was being said, be flexible, and make it my business to help ease any strain and promote peace and harmony in the group.

This doesn't mean that I support everything that comes up but that I make promoting peaceful and harmonious interaction within the group my primary aim. So when things get a little sticky, I think of what I can do to lighten things up, or bring the sides together, or diffuse a potentially hot situation. I've tried to be more of a peacemaker than a combatant, to help the group reach consensus on issues and reconcile differences. This is something a Buddhist practitioner should be doing, especially one in as public a role as I'm in here. I've found that if I've helped reach consensus on issues or reconcile a dispute, I walk out of a meeting feeling much more satisfied than if I've won a battle. If people walk out of a meeting feeling good about each other and the process they've been through, it really doesn't matter which side's position was adopted.

My work with the neighborhood association is an example of how I've worked in my life with one precept: "acting wholesomely." If we work with each precept in a similar way, we can transform our lives in the areas they cover. This is true renunciation.

Zen Master Dogen said, "Sit like a Buddha, vow to follow the precepts, and make Buddha's mind your own." Sitting and following the precepts is making the Buddha's mind your own; renunciation is so closely linked with enlightenment that the two cannot be separated. This is realized by how we live our lives moment-by-moment, whether we are lay people or monks.