Zen, Novelty, and Suchness:
Ultimate Reality in a Cup of Tea
Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen. Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full and then continued pouring. The professor watched the overflow until he could no longer restrain himself. 'It is overfull. No more will go in!' 'Like this cup,' Nan-in said, 'you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?'
Emptying the Cup
It is only when we empty our cup of distractions and see what is directly in front of us that we can perceive ultimate reality. At least, this is how Zen Buddhism perceives things. Zen finds ultimate reality in the tea and our tasting of it, in the garbage and our smelling of it, in the face of the other and our seeing that face. It emphasizes being present to things as they appear to the senses and awakening to their sheer presence, their suchness. Zen adds that the ultimate reality is present in this presence. It is not far away; it is here and now, in this moment, in this cup of tea.
All of this makes good sense to process philosophers. We speak of ultimate reality as creativity and suggest, further along with Zen, that this ultimate reality is not more real than the world itself; it is the world itself as it worlds. Every actual happening in our universe is the creativity of creativity, whether it's the happening of the tea or the happening of our drinking it. In this happening, says Whitehead, the entire universe is present. As we walk along a beach and look for ultimate reality, we need not look very far away; it is in each grain of sand and in our walking.
The Suchness of Emotions
Of course, Whiteheadians emphasize other kinds of experience too. When we empty our cups of inordinate abstractions, we awaken to the suchness of cups of tea and also the suchness of emotions such as love and hatred, fear and trembling, hope and longing. These emotions are not so much objects of sense perception as they are subjective forms that clothe our perceptions of the world and reveal something of the world as well. When we see a person suffering and feel a sense of sorrow, our sorrow is revelatory of the inner condition of the person we see. Sorrow, too, contains wisdom.
There is still another kind of suchness that is important to Whiteheadians: the suchness of faith. Faith is not precisely an emotion but instead is an attitude that can indwell many emotions. There can be faith amid sorrow and also faith amid fear, faith amid love, and perhaps even faith amid hatred. Faith is not belief; it is deeper than that. It is trust in the availability of fresh and whole-making possibilities relative to the circumstances of the moment.
The Suchness of Novelty
When it occurred to Nan-in to pour more tea into the cup than was required, he was himself open to fresh possibilities. In his case, they were fresh possibilities for instructing the professor. As a Zen Buddhist, it is doubtful that Nan-in would have understood this openness as an act of faith. The word 'faith' sounds very Abrahamic. But we Whiteheadians cannot help but see in his creativity a special kind of openness. Not simply openness to the professor but openness to possibilities that emerge within a given situation, if we have our minds and hearts open. Nan-in was living his faith.
To what are we open when we are open to such possibilities? The names we use may not matter so much. Whitehead himself experimented with different names, one of which was 'Novelty.' Of course, there are many kinds of novelty, including harmful novelty and healing novelty. But when we Whiteheadians use the word 'Novelty' here, I have in mind the novelty of the healing kind. Process theologians such as John Cobb call it the 'novelty of creative transformation.' It is the novelty of love and the novelty of freshness.
Nan-in did not know if the professor would respond to his invitation, but he had faith in the possibility that the professor would respond. In his faith, there was a kind of suchness too. For Christians like me, the suchness of this faith is one of life's greatest gifts. It cannot easily be generated by an act of the will, but it can happen to us and in us when we empty our cups.
Faith is an act of letting go, of lying gently in the waters of spirit. There is a freshness deep down, says the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, when speaking of God. Nan-in was open.
Emptying the Cup
It is only when we empty our cup of distractions and see what is directly in front of us that we can perceive ultimate reality. At least, this is how Zen Buddhism perceives things. Zen finds ultimate reality in the tea and our tasting of it, in the garbage and our smelling of it, in the face of the other and our seeing that face. It emphasizes being present to things as they appear to the senses and awakening to their sheer presence, their suchness. Zen adds that the ultimate reality is present in this presence. It is not far away; it is here and now, in this moment, in this cup of tea.
All of this makes good sense to process philosophers. We speak of ultimate reality as creativity and suggest, further along with Zen, that this ultimate reality is not more real than the world itself; it is the world itself as it worlds. Every actual happening in our universe is the creativity of creativity, whether it's the happening of the tea or the happening of our drinking it. In this happening, says Whitehead, the entire universe is present. As we walk along a beach and look for ultimate reality, we need not look very far away; it is in each grain of sand and in our walking.
The Suchness of Emotions
Of course, Whiteheadians emphasize other kinds of experience too. When we empty our cups of inordinate abstractions, we awaken to the suchness of cups of tea and also the suchness of emotions such as love and hatred, fear and trembling, hope and longing. These emotions are not so much objects of sense perception as they are subjective forms that clothe our perceptions of the world and reveal something of the world as well. When we see a person suffering and feel a sense of sorrow, our sorrow is revelatory of the inner condition of the person we see. Sorrow, too, contains wisdom.
There is still another kind of suchness that is important to Whiteheadians: the suchness of faith. Faith is not precisely an emotion but instead is an attitude that can indwell many emotions. There can be faith amid sorrow and also faith amid fear, faith amid love, and perhaps even faith amid hatred. Faith is not belief; it is deeper than that. It is trust in the availability of fresh and whole-making possibilities relative to the circumstances of the moment.
The Suchness of Novelty
When it occurred to Nan-in to pour more tea into the cup than was required, he was himself open to fresh possibilities. In his case, they were fresh possibilities for instructing the professor. As a Zen Buddhist, it is doubtful that Nan-in would have understood this openness as an act of faith. The word 'faith' sounds very Abrahamic. But we Whiteheadians cannot help but see in his creativity a special kind of openness. Not simply openness to the professor but openness to possibilities that emerge within a given situation, if we have our minds and hearts open. Nan-in was living his faith.
To what are we open when we are open to such possibilities? The names we use may not matter so much. Whitehead himself experimented with different names, one of which was 'Novelty.' Of course, there are many kinds of novelty, including harmful novelty and healing novelty. But when we Whiteheadians use the word 'Novelty' here, I have in mind the novelty of the healing kind. Process theologians such as John Cobb call it the 'novelty of creative transformation.' It is the novelty of love and the novelty of freshness.
Nan-in did not know if the professor would respond to his invitation, but he had faith in the possibility that the professor would respond. In his faith, there was a kind of suchness too. For Christians like me, the suchness of this faith is one of life's greatest gifts. It cannot easily be generated by an act of the will, but it can happen to us and in us when we empty our cups.
Faith is an act of letting go, of lying gently in the waters of spirit. There is a freshness deep down, says the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, when speaking of God. Nan-in was open.