Cooking for the Community (S.Huerta)

 

When I think about the Tenzo, I cannot but stand at some distance because the work entails a certain mastery—both skill in cooking and access to an equanimous attitude rooted firmly in oneself. Never have I been responsible for making sure five people eat, let alone 50, 75, or even 100, but If I consider the possibility of letting down an entire monastery, then I am filled with dread. It would be hard to let myself off the hook if I screwed up dinner for everyone. There is a heartiness in taking on such a high-risk task. A master of this sort can make the most difficult maneuvers look fluid. When you watch a master at work, like how I imagine a Tenzo, one wants to ask about their consciousness.  Is it as unimpeded as their actions?

  The fact that a Tenzo is a monk suggests a mind free from many of the hang-ups otherwise associated with someone living in this dusty world. A monk is free from attachments, distractions, and I presume they have more wisdom than I do. Yet, the job of the Tenzo is not for every monk. To be a Tenzo, one must have the mind of the way or otherwise have roused the way-seeking mind. In this way, the Tenzo is distinct from other monks who have not yet realized or aroused this way-seeking mind.

 But while I begin to look for what makes the Tenzo unique among other monks, I am reminded: "The Tenzo functions as the one who makes offerings with reverence to the monks." Thus for the Tenzo, each monk deserves this offering from the least to the most fully realized monk. There is no partiality according to the merit of a particular monk. The Tenzo recognizes anyone who would choose to be a monk as someone meriting an offering given with reverence. Then the act of the Tenzo preparing food for the monks is an expression of deep camaraderie. 

  What is fascinating about this view is it does not necessarily come about because one is a monk. Dogen laments his own Japan for regrettably not arriving at this view of food in the monastic context:

 "Although the Buddha's Teachings have been heard for a long time in Japan, I have never heard of any one speaking or writing about how food should be prepared within the monastic community as an expression of the Teachings, let alone such details as offering nine bows before sending forth the food. As a consequence, we Japanese have taken no more consideration of how food should be prepared in a monastic context than have birds or animals. This is cause for regret, especially since there is no reason for this to be so."

 For no Japanese monk to arrive at the view described above is puzzling. I take for granted that Buddhism's mindfulness aspect may not have always found expression in mundane activities. Perhaps there was a period where the prevailing attitude was that spirituality was something you did, and the necessities of life were inconveniences to be dealt with expediently. I imagine Dogen helped change that view. What fascinates me most about that process is I can imagine when a realized monk grasps the view and effort of the Tenzo, it will all seem so clear. What will seem less clear is why no one recognized this view sooner.  

Even though a monk might be associated with foregoing worldly appetites, like a desire for tasty food, the Tenzo still takes the effort to prepare wonderful meals. These meals prepared with care nourish the monks, but maybe they also bring joy to the monks. Although a monk would eat anything placed in front of them, I cannot help but imagine the joy of these monks seeing their favorite meal in front of them. While a monk might want to identify mainly with their spiritual hunger, the longing for deep truth and harmony, it would seem the Tenzo gently reminds the monks that their physical hunger can also be a source of elevation. 

Briefly returning to the question of the consciousness of the Tenzo, I wonder if some of the reason that the Tenzo can perform their function so well has to do in part with the fact that what they are preparing is an offering. It would seem to me that when someone takes it upon themselves to be responsible for others, self-consciousness might be subsumed by a greater sense of duty. Personally, I am moved by the notion that through serving the community one might actually move closer to realizing oneself. In this way, the task transforms from a chore to an opportunity in self-cultivation.

It makes me wonder how many opportunities I cannot recognize because on the surface such opportunities appear as chores.