So far, 2022 has not been a good year for my Buddhist teachers. In January, we lost Thich Nhat Hanh, in March we lost Koyo Kubose, and now I found out a few days ago that we lost Suirin Ray Witham back in February. Suirin-sensei was not a "big name" in the ways that Thay or Koyo-sensei were, but he did have a big part to play in my own Buddhist upbringing.
The Zen Buddhist Temple of Chicago was the first Buddhist temple I ever visited, and when I originally stumbled across it, it was led by a fellow named Kongo Roshi. Kongo Roshi was one of the first Americans of non-Japanese decent to be awarded the title of Roshi, which has frequently been translated here in the west as "Zen master." The Japanese word "roshi" literally means "old master" or "old teacher," and Kongo Roshi received this title from Soyu Matsuoka Roshi, the temple's original founder. When I started attending the temple regularly, Kongo Roshi had three other disciples there: Zenku Jerry Smyers, Tessen Stu Ericksen, and Suirin Ray Witham. I'm sure there were also other disciples there at the time, now lost to my old memories, but those are the three who eventually became my Buddhist teachers.
Kongo Roshi was referred to as the abbot of the temple, but after his death in 1999, no single person stepped up to take his place. It kind of seemed like no one felt worthy of filling his shoes in the role of abbot. From that point on, the temple was led by committee, with the addition of Kozan Jim Matson to the mix.
A few years after Kongo Roshi's death, I asked if I could become a disciple as a way of continuing the spread of Roshi's teachings. I was accepted, and although Zenku-sensei was my primary teacher, I was expected to (and did) learn from all of the leaders of the temple.
At this time, Suirin-sensei had become the priest who led the Sunday morning service, which was one service every week that I made sure to attend. As such, I was exposed to quite a lot of Suirin-sensei's teachings and found that his personal flavor of Buddhism was very close to my own. His Dharma name, Suirin, meant "water ripples," like the rings of small waves that are created after someone throws a stone into a pond or a lake. These ripples, in turn, are part of the imagery that Zen rock gardens attempt to invoke by raking the sand around the rocks.
One thing that always attracted me to this temple was that Kongo Roshi had considered himself as much of a Taoist as he was a Buddhist; he saw no conflict at all between those two spiritual perspectives. He even taught quite a few Taoist arts, primarily tai chi chuan. Taoism is what led me to Buddhism, and my own Buddhist practice continues to have quite a bit of Taoist flavor mixed into it.
Out of all of the other teachers there, Suirin-sensei seemed to be the only one to continue Roshi's Taoist influence. Or perhaps I'm remembering that incorrectly -- perhaps the others did, it's just that Suirin-sensei presented more of it, and more openly than the others did. Suirin-sensei never taught tai chi, but he had a good working knowledge of Taoism and how it ended up influencing Buddhism over the centuries.
After every service, the priests and disciples always held an informal discussion in the back room over tea. For people attending the service, it was a chance to ask any questions they might have. For disciples, it was a chance to learn how to answer these questions. My most vivid memory of Suirin-sensei answering questions is when someone asked him "What sins are there in Buddhism?" Suirin-sensei contemplated his teacup, thought for a moment and then replied, "Buddhism doesn't really have anything comparable to the Christian concept of sin, but if it did, that one sin would be ignorance."
I enjoyed my work with Suirin-sensei, and I learned a heck of a lot from him. After Zenku-sensei retired and moved to Montana, my own discipleship started to falter. Zenku-sensei would return for holiday services and special events, but these were the days before things like Zoom meetings were commonly available, so the diminished contact led to diminished motivation on my part, and other life events caused me to end up stepping away from regular attendance at that temple.
Eventually I discovered Bright Dawn and their lay ministry program, and moved on into that. In 2015, Suirin-sensei's health forced him to retire from leading services and teaching at the temple. I had always meant to take time to head up to Wisconsin to visit him and let him know how helpful his teachings had been throughout my journey, and how much I appreciated everything that I learned from him. I never made the time to do that, and now it's too late. From what I've heard, I'm not sure he would've recognized me even if I had made that trip.
As long as I am alive, I will carry Suirin-sensei's water ripples with me. As long as I am teaching, I will do my best to continue spreading those water ripples out from all of my own stones that I throw. Thank you, Suirin-sensei. You are missed.
For those of you who are interested in reading transcripts of some of Suirin-sensei's Dharma talks, you can find them here on the Zen Buddhist Temple of Chicago website: https://zbtc.org/droopy/taxonomy/term/5
Comments