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平野克史 Hirano Katsufumi (1938-2021)

PDF: Encounter with Zen: Writings on Poetry and Zen
by Lucien Stryk
Swallow Press, 1981. pp. 227-235.

Katsufumi Hirano, Obaku Sect priest, a disciple of Gemyo Murasei-roshi (pp. 219-226.) [aka Gemmyo Murase] of Mampukuji, serves as managing director of the periodical Zen. In his mid-twenties, this tall, finely-featured man is most serene and self-assured in spite of his many responsibilities. In addition to doing the major part of the work on Zen, under the guidance of chief editor Murasei-roshi, he is in charge of running the very active Zen Culture Center for Youth at Mampukuji’s sub-temple, the Ryokuji-in. He has recently returned from Seattle, where he directed a two-week sesshin (meditation period) for some thirty Zenists associated with the University of Washington, which has always had strong ties with Asian culture.

He speaks warmly of his visit and the kindness shown him. The Zen group there had taken care of all expenses on their own, with no support from the university—an indication of their seriousness. He was deeply impressed by their willingness to do zazen for hours on end, in strict lotus, finding them astonishingly self-disciplined, with purity of vision and resolve to achieve something in Zen. He asks about Zen in America, whether there are many such groups, their organization, so on. Clearly he has been surprised by the ability and attitude of those he met.

His background is unusual. Having trained in Soto at the great master Dogen’s temple in Fukui, the Eiheiji (one I happen to know very well, having always been affected by Dogen’s life and writings), where he made good progress, he left after some years for Mampukuji to work under Murasei-roshi, because he began to feel the famous “just-sitting” of Soto was inadequate to his needs, and that through its meditation practice Soto could not reach in the desired way enough people. Rinzai Zen, on the other hand, was too severe and elitist for one of his temperament.

Thus Obaku, with its employment of Nembutsu (mystical chanting), koan interpretation, careful avoidance of scripture in early stages of training, was all he had been seeking. He became an outstanding disciple and completed training for priesthood under Murasei-roshi. He is deeply idealistic, which, more than anything, qualifies him for his role at the Culture Center, inspiring through his life and teaching the young who regularly come for zazen and often practice one or more of the Zen arts. I greatly enjoy meeting this sensitive scholar.

STRYK: Were you surprised to find people you met in America so seriously involved in Zen training?
HIRANO: Their invitation was the first surprise. I had no way of knowing what I would find: I was astonished.
STRYK: Though capable of sitting for long periods, did their zazen impress you in other ways?
HIRANO: It was true zazen in every respect, always full lotus, alert. Indeed more pure, at least in the physical sense, than that practiced by many here!
STRYK: Incredible. Where, how did they learn?
HIRANO: A number, after visiting Japan, began to study Zen, reading everything, becoming familiar with Zen arts—not difficult in a city like Seattle, where Asian art is so well represented in museums, where there are courses in Asian civilization at the universities.
STRYK: Apart from zazen, were they practicing in other ways?
HIRANO: Well, being for the most part teachers, students, they are very busy but serious lay Zenists. All in all, a worthy group, which, if typical, speaks well for the practice in America.
STRYK: Are they especially drawn to Obaku—is that why you were invited?
HIRANO: Their leader, a professor knowing Japan and the language well, is particularly interested in Obaku. Perhaps the work I do with young people at our Culture Center led them to me—they all knew of it.
STRYK: Does Obaku have a stronger missionary element than other sects?
HIRANO: We like to feel there’s little proselytizing in Zen, whatever the sect, but it is true Obaku actively draws as many as possible. That’s one reason for our Culture Center. We are known to welcome anyone genuinely wanting to gain from Zen.
STRYK: Perhaps your magazine is instrumental in drawing people here?
HIRANO: It well may be the most important publication, in a sense the only one, dealing exclusively with Zen. But missionary? Far from it. We publish articles on all aspects, most scholarly, dealing with scriptures, that sort of thing. And there are reviews by experts of current books.
STRYK: Were the Americans familiar with it?
HIRANO: One or two, but that was not my purpose there.
STRYK: What did you talk about?
HIRANO: I conducted dokusan regularly, there were koans.
STRYK: That surprises me, considering the shortness of your stay. How were the koans used?
HIRANO: You’re justified in being surprised. The idea was to show how koans are employed, not too much was expected. Yet, for the most part, they were handled well under the circumstances: I had the feeling that a few might, with more time, have come up with striking interpretations. As you know, it takes months, even years, to work out satisfactory views.
STRYK: Was it possible for you to sense much difference in approach? Were interpretations more logical, more Western—all that implies?
HIRANO: Yes and no, yet I sensed behind their views the reading they had done in books of koan interpretation. Inevitable, I suppose, with all those popular publications purporting to give answers to classical koans. A strange species of literature! To be fair, though, many Japanese go to such sources for help, have always done so. In any case, I don’t mean to suggest they read too many of that kind, but there was a sense that a dependency on such works had been created—I cautioned against it in the future. Most strongly, I might add.
STRYK: Presumably it is discouraged here?
HIRANO: Yes, but as I’ve said, there are many such books, and they are widely read, part of an old tradition in Zen—great masters, after all, wrote down interpretations in the hope of guiding disciples on the right approach to koan. The best disciples have always known, or soon discovered, that no help of importance is gained by it. You see, there are no right or wrong solutions, each person not only has but should have his own highly individual way, conditioned by his needs and aspirations. That’s what the master expects of a disciple. Besides, koans are only part of training, with an important but at the same time limited purpose—to help the master gauge his disciple’s progress. That is why he is often asked to work with the same koan for years, why his rendering of it will vary widely time to time.
STRYK: I see that koans are as important to Obaku as to Rinzai?
HIRANO: They are important to all, for in more limited yet significant ways they are also used in Soto.
STRYK: When you trained at the Soto temple were you given koans?
HIRANO: Of course.
STRYK: Why is it then that Soto is supposedly the sect of “just sitting”?
HIRANO: A most unfortunate, misleading notion, though it may be true Soto is literally based on the conception of gradual attainment. That goes back to Dogen, its founder. He thought it the most natural way of gaining insight, most human way—compared with Rinzai practice, which from the time of its founding in T’ang China was severe in approach.
STRYK: Based on Hui-neng’s views, of course, as indicated in the Platform Scripture?
HIRANO: Yes, especially there: an elitist document, as you’re well aware. Dogen knew it, must in spirit have rejected it. He was against all discrimination, in fact, saying there is only Zen itself. Tor him, all who hoped to gain from Zen were welcome to try—he had no use for Hui-neng’s categories of superior and inferior, thinking them most dangerous.
STRYK: You have high regard for Soto, yet left to come here?
HIRANO: Hard to answer—I’ve been asked for years! Before I try, you should know it is not all that uncommon for disciples to move on while training. I came because of Murasei-roshi, because of what I knew of him, his life, his excellent magazine, which I 'd read for years. In a sense, then, it was incidental that he was Obaku—that, too, I might add, is not uncommon among us. It’s more the man we seek than sect, the master is everything to us. Frankly, had I not found it possible to work well under Murasei-roshi, I might have journeyed on, settled for a Rinzai master!
STRYK: Truly? In spite of the distaste you have for many Rinzai views?
HIRANO: Well, I might never have found a Rinzai master for my needs, but I speak in principle. No, I don’t rule out the possibility. Sect is not important as some, especially from afar, make out. In that respect, Dogen was certainly right, all who follow seriously know it.
STRYK: Yet some, whose seriousness is beyond question, have strong views on sect, dismissing the rest in strong language.
HIRANO: It’s not for me to doubt their seriousness, but most assuredly their wisdom! To a true enlightened man how can it be of consequence? The various sects, each in its special way, administer to the needs of different people.
STRYK: Then you yourself are Soto or Obaku, and could not be Rinzai?
HIRANO: In a sense, because I cannot accept, with my view of human nature, my weakness and strength, an insistence upon sudden method—of anything. If I could grasp all truth in such a way, still I would find myself sceptical regarding the claim that all should do so.
STRYK: At Eiheiji was there concern about such things? Did any others worry about being part of a sect so often criticized as Soto, for being among other things a refuge for the slow, the lazy?
HIRANO: Not at all! None troubled with such matters. You must remember some of those tangled up in sect disputes consider certain Rinzai Zenists—themselves most vocal critics of other sects—as being proud and vulgar. Some indeed think them literally mad in their pursuit of the unattainable.
STRYK: There perhaps is the crux of the problem. To non-Rinzai Zenists sudden enlightenment is unattainable, or at least there’s doubt concerning its possibility.
HIRANO: Though I wouldn’t care to be counted among them, I must confess to having doubts, or more explicitly, I doubt the importance of the issue. The main thing surely is discovery of true self. Sometimes for a Zenist it’s simply a matter of geography: he may live in a Soto district, and it wouldn’t occur to him to seek guidance outside, his understanding of Zen is conditioned by Soto views and practices. That’s very common. In any case, in Soto, in Obaku, the discovery of true self is thought to require a great deal of time and careful discipline, persistent, graduated, with clear, day-by-day evidence that development is taking place.
STRYK: So, sudden awakening is impossible?
HIRANO: We would not claim that! After all, the history of Zen is full of such experiences, the most significant recorded. Yet it’s impossible to base a system of training on such probabilities—simple as that. As you know, Rinzai Zenists often experience what is called the Great Doubt, many literally going mad early in training. How can that be seen as ideal discipline, how can it be marked the best way to the fruits of Zen?
STRYK: There are no cases of the Great Doubt in Soto or Obaku?
HIRANO: None to my knowledge, though when one is working on koans there are necessarily moments of anxiety, periods of depression. There is not, however, the same kind of pressure—of that I can assure you.
STRYK: Most troubling. I think the difficulty arises from the belief that for anything important to be attained great effort is required. One has to go beyond one’s normal self, however much the pain. Perhaps that’s why to Westerners the Rinzai view seems plausible.
HIRANO: Great effort, of course, but surely not great pain, great doubt, which if not controlled can lead to disaster. In Soto, in Obaku, equal effort is expected, but there are simply no illusions, of the kind one finds in Rinzai, regarding possibilities of everything happening at once, just like that, utter finality! After all, judgment is based on observation, slow, scrupulous. I am not aware Rinzai produces supermen! It too has variety of types, some progress very slowly, if at all. It is them I worry about. Considering the ideals of their sect, they are in the greatest danger.
STRYK: You think such people would be better off with Soto or Obaku masters, expecting less, guiding with more patience?
HIRANO: Unquestionably. But it’s not simple as all that. Sometimes a disciple of a Rinzai master finds himself trapped in a system, unable to escape with self-respect. He may persist, there may be a successful outcome, or there may not. It’s all too risky. Why shouldn't the pursuit of Zen be normal, healthy, even joyous? Why should an intelligent, sensitive person with ambition to achieve greatness of spirit be made aware constantly of his shortcomings?
STRYK: Have you ever thought Zen a form of therapy?
HIRANO: Indeed not! Zen is religion, not psychoanalysis. As an editor I am faced constantly with that kind of problem: often I get articles from those who think of Zen as such, and in rejecting them feel it my duty to give honest reasons. You can imagine! What I’m telling you I tell to others all the time. Our magazine tries to uphold the religious and philosophical character of Zen, defend its nature from those who would make something altogether different of it—a form of therapy, for example.
STRYK: And yet there’s the pragmatic element. In your Culture Center you surely encourage that. I mean you train those who want to be better at jobs, better athletes, that sort of thing.
HIRANO: A different matter. We don’t expect such people to pursue beyond what they seek in such ways—of course, there is always the hope some will, a very strong hope. We exist only to serve the community, a feature of Obaku we are proud of. When it comes to training those who hope for priesthood, on the other hand, we hardly emphasize the pragmatic. If anything, we discourage that approach.
STRYK: Do you think the day will come when the three sects will merge? Do you look forward to it?
HIRANO: Realistically, I don’t think it will happen. We all know Dogen was right when he said there is only Zen, yet different sects seem to be meant for different human types. Not such a bad thing. I know, have always known, I am not a Rinzai type. Have never aspired to be, would certainly feel out of my element in that community. Yet as Zenist I know Rinzai Zenists are my brothers, we share the deepest communion in the essence of Zen. Our similarities, when we are seen alongside others, are far greater than our differences—something none would dispute. And even supposed rivalries between us do some good, keeping us alert to strengths and shortcomings.
STRYK: The sense of competition?
HIRANO: Hardly! Yet our differences do represent the wisdom of experience and history—are very real.
STRYK: Are you a man of satori?
HIRANO: No.
STRYK: Do you aspire to be?
HIRANO: I cannot understand your question. If, as I think, you mean when you speak of a man of satori one whose development is based on revelation of a single momentous insight—and I think you do mean that—then I am emphatically no such man. But I may be wrong about you. Perhaps you have in mind someone who over the years has many insights, most coming very naturally, as if blossoming from within, few most sudden, yet, by virtue of being so, no more impressive than the others, well, then perhaps I can claim to be such a person. Obaku tends to be cautious about such matters; we fear they are overemphasized, particularly by writers on Zen—everywhere and at all times.
STRYK: It must be wonderful for disciples to work in such an atmosphere. Yet is what you offer very different from the education offered by a university?
HIRANO: Altogether different! Just as those who speak of the primacy of awakening, we have something special in mind training ourselves and others, something far above those humanistic qualities one associates with academic life. Our quest is for authentic spirit—none could claim otherwise.
STRYK: It’s no wonder you attract so many!
HIRANO: Not more than others, if anything, fewer. As you know we are the smallest of the three, no doubt always will be. What may be true, however, is that we attract a certain type, certainly there is more lay participation, as at our Center. For good reason. In our Center, for example, we offer something which, however unique, is meant for all. The source of our growing strength.
STRYK: Obviously you are reaching out, judging from activities at the Culture Center, the numbers involved. Looking around, I wonder how many are attracted by the place itself, its extraordinary beauty, the serenity of its surroundings.
HIRANO: An important thing, though by no means most important. To some less than to others.
STRYK: Yet to some, Mampukuji must be a paradise compared with their own world. Is that altogether good?
HIRANO: I know why you ask that question! I can assure you our very purpose is to make such people see that their own world, wherever, whatever it happens to be, can also be paradise—seen with awakened eyes.
STRYK: It’s interesting, Murasei-roshi felt that when I asked him about living here. Felt each place offered its own beauty, its own possibility of serenity. Yet that must be the hardest lesson of all.
HIRANO: It is indeed, such realization offers the profoundest proof of attainment. Unless one feels its truth, one is doomed forever to frustration.
STRYK: Do you feel privileged in having lived both at the Eiheiji, surely another of the most beautiful temples in Japan, and now here?
HIRANO: How could I not feel so, but not so much because of the physical element, for I have never been anywhere I could not find some beauty. Above all, I am grateful for outstanding masters, would have found any place satisfying, working with them. I was asked a similar question in Washington by those fearing that when it became necessary to leave their beautiful mountainous surroundings they would be at a loss. Our discussions on the matter meant very much to them.
STRYK: What of your life now: considering your many duties, are you able to give the best within you?
HIRANO: I wonder what is best of oneself! I try, I’m very fortunate to be at an Obaku temple, precisely because it does ask so much of me. Our magazine, for example, though hard work, is very satisfying, having important things to teach. Sometimes we may seem wrong, somewhat partial, but we do reach those who find it challenging, stimulating—that’s good to know. Then the Culture Center, which may be the most enlivening part of my work—the wonder of working with those who aspire, especially the young.
STRYK: You are a happy man, and you deserve to be. That in itself must mean so much to those who come here.
HIRANO: For the Zenist happiness is the feeling of integrality, of life and work. In that sense I am happy. Yet day to day, I have moments of doubt, difficult decisions, problems to solve. Whatever serenity my life has, I can assure you, is hard won!

Portrait d’un Maître Zen : Hirano Katsufumi Roshi 
https://www.tenchijin-zen-kai.fr/hirano-roshi

Si l’on cherche des informations sur Hirano Katsufumi Roshi, Maître Zen japonais, il en est peu ; si l’on interroge sa disciple, en France, Jocelyne Derudder, qui le rencontra en 1992, reçut l’ordination au Japon, 7 ans plus tard, et qui depuis, à Paris, pratique et fait pratiquer le zazen selon l’enseignement même de son maître, la transmission se fait par la pratique de maître à disciple.

Qu’est-ce que le zazen ? Qu’est-ce que le zen – si tant est qu’on puisse le réduire à une définition en quelques mots, loin des discours théoriques et des lieux communs ? A un jeune apprenti moine zen venu se soumettre aux ordres monastiques dans un temple, aspirant à la révélation de la Voie, prêt à mettre ses idées à l’épreuve de son corps et de son esprit et animé d’une puissante volonté, qui, à l’heure enfin de sa consultation personnelle avec le Maître, put lui poser la question qui lui brûlait les lèvres depuis des semaines : «Maître, qu’est-ce que le zen ?» La réponse tomba sans plus d’explication : «Va laver ton bol ! »

Ainsi en est-il du zen. Pour qui le pratique, le zen est un tout, une attitude dans la vie ; le zazen est un entraînement du corps à la posture assise, au contrôle de la respiration de tous les points pour arriver à un équilibre : entre une posture dans la pratique et une attitude dans la vie, il n’est pas de séparation.

Hirano Katsufumi Roshi est Maître zen et dirige le Temple Zuiun-Ji, à Shimada, dans la préfecture de Shizuoka, au Japon. A l’âge de 76 ans aujourd’hui, il continue de diriger régulièrement de nombreux séminaires ou sesshin à travers le monde, pratiquant ses enseignements aussi bien dans les temples zen que dans les prisons, les universités, voire les hôpitaux, et a été Maître zen pendant plus de vingt ans au temple Eihei-ji, siège de l’école Soto du bouddhisme zen, au Japon, fondée par Dogen Zenji (1200-1253). Son enseignement reprend, entre autres, ceux de Dogen Zenji, qui mit de côté les livres pour la pratique et connut l’Eveil à 26 ans – pour qui l’expérience personnelle authentique était préférable à la stricte observance d’une doctrine – et fut considéré comme l’un des plus grands penseurs du Japon où il eut un rôle-clé dans la diffusion du bouddhisme zen, après un voyage en Chine.

Lors d’un stage Sesshin d’une semaine à Paris en juin 2013, Hirano Roshi avait accepté de répondre à quelques questions, avait évoqué aussi ses premières années de vie, son engagement. Un père fonctionnaire, mort en 1940, lorsqu’il avait 2 ans, une mère – famille roturière issue d’une lignée  bouddhiste – devenue sage-femme, et qui luttait pour joindre les deux bouts et élever quatre enfants, dans un pays en guerre. Mené au temple de son grand-père, il fut adopté par la famille maternelle, et fut, par la force des choses, séparé de sa mère et de ses sœurs. « Je pense souvent à mon adoption, dira-t-il, elle eut une grande importance dans ma vie. J’eus une enfance heureuse et je réussis bien à l’école. » Peu après, il avouera qu’il n’avait pas imaginé qu’il serait moine : « Au Japon, les moines bouddhistes sont soit les enfants de temples soit des orphelins comme moi, élevés dans un temple. » Ayant grandi dans un temple pauvre et souffert de cette pauvreté, il n’en voulait plus, il se voyait ailleurs ! Et puis, parce que la vie ne prend pas toujours le tournant qu’on aurait pensé qu’elle prendrait, sa famille prend la décision pour lui ; il fera ses vœux de moine.

Il est ainsi envoyé dans un temple, à Shimada, Zuiun-ji, dans la préfecture de Shizuoka, sous la direction de Hirano Gekkan, pour sa formation. Là, il termine ses études universitaires, sera marié à la fille de son professeur Gekkan, prend le nom de Hirano – la famille de sa femme n’ayant pas de fils -, suit profondément sa voie, d’un temple à l’autre dont il a la charge, Eihei-ji compris. Il dirige par la suite des retraites  (Sesshin) aux USA, en Italie, en Belgique, aux Pays-Bas, en France, en Equateur, en Suisse, responsable chaque année aussi d’étudiants séminaristes ou moines novices ; directeur parallèlement de la section internationale de Eihei-ji, créée pour que ce temple zen vieux de 750 ans participe pleinement au monde. De son vif intérêt pour l’Occident et toutes les religions judéo-chrétiennes- comme pour, sans doute, l’opéra, marcher dans une ville étrangère ou la lecture du Petit Prince de Saint-Exupéry – il confiera que cela l’a rendu plutôt singulier parmi les moines de la tradition zen japonaise.

De ces mots qui revenaient dans le cadre de cette semaine de pratique, de son enseignement pendant la posture, on retient qu’il faut apprendre par l’expérience, que le zen ne s’accomplit pas avec la tête, que zazen et vie quotidienne sont intimement liés, qu’il ne faut pas chercher à comprendre, mais juste faire – Hirano Roshi appelle cela « shikantaza » ; enfin, qu’il ne faut ni s’attacher, ni repousser, et qu’il s’agit, en tout, de rechercher l’harmonie du cœur, pour y faire entrer la paix.

On fait comment ? Le pied droit sur la cuisse gauche, le pied gauche sur la cuisse droite, assis sur son zafu (coussin), la colonne vertébrale étirée,  s’ancrer dans la terre avec les genoux, en même temps  pousser le sommet du crâne vers le ciel. Harmonie, sérénité, communication : ainsi, tout est dans la posture

Jocelyne Derudder (Nom de dharma: Essan Jôun 越山浄雲) : Disciple, elle rencontre pour la première fois Hirano Rôshi en Juin 1992,  suis son enseignement et reçoit l’ordination au Temple Zen Zuiun-Ji au Japon en Mai 1995 puis en Aout 1999.  A la demande de Hirano Rôshi depuis 2005,  Essan Jôun Jocelyne dirige TenChiJin-Zen-Kai Paris.  L’étude des textes, les pratiques de la calligraphie, Chanoyu, Kôdô, Shôjin-Ryôri,  l’histoire de l’art bouddhique et le montage en rouleaux Kakejiku sont pour Jocelyne des pratiques intégrantes du Zen. Jocelyne est également chargée de la compilation et  publication des enseignements (kusen) qui ont été donnés lors des Sesshin de Hirano Rôshi.

Compilation des enseignements de Hirano Katsufumi Rôshi Maître Zen Sôto : au dôjô de Ten Chi Jin Zen Kai Paris. Vol. 1
par Jocelyne Derudder
Editions Unicité, 2016, 72 p.

Enseignements
de Hirano Katsufumi Rôshi
Recuellis par Jocelyne Derudder
Editions Unicité, 2020, 204 p.

Compilación de las enseñanzas de Hirano Katsufumi Rôshi, maître zen Sôto: en el dôjô de Ten Chi Jin Zen Kai Paris. Vol. 1
por Jocelyne Derudder
Unicité, 2017, 74 p.