Since the death of Walter Cronkite in July, much has been written about the late anchorman’s moral authority. According to a Roper poll taken in 1974, Walter Cronkite was “the most trusted man in America”. When he gravely intoned his signature line, we believed him. However shocking or sad the reality just reported, that’s the way it was. The CBS Evening News with Walter Cronkite had opened a window on things as they were.
Zen practice also aims to put the practitioner in touch with reality, as it is in this very moment. And every Zen center or monastery has, as it were, its own Walter Cronkite. Whether he or she is called Abbot, Sensei, Roshi, or simply “head teacher,” the person in this position embodies the inherited wisdom and the venerable authority of the Zen tradition. If the person is a “lineage holder,” which is to say, has received “Dharma transmission” from an earlier teacher, the weight of authority is even greater. It is, in most instances, unquestioned, and one of the core requirements of a prospective Zen student is to believe in the teacher. If a Zen student is unable to do that, the student is well-advised to find another teacher.
Yet if the structure of the traditional zendo is authoritarian, the practice itself is quite the opposite. It is radically egalitarian. From the start, Zen students are enjoined to rely on direct experience: to trust their senses, not the words of any teacher. Every morning, students in Rinzai Zen training chant the verses “Atta dipa / Viharata / Atta sirana / Ananna sirana,” which roughly translate as “You are the Light / Rely on yourself / Rely on nothing but yourself”. This is followed by “Dhamma dipa / Dhamma sirana / Ananna sirana,” which translates as “Rely on the Dharma / Rely on nothing but the Dharma”. Although the word Dharma has multiple meanings, in this context it is best understood as “reality,” or “the laws of reality,” most prominently those of impermanence and interdependence. It is left to us to perceive those laws—and to realize ourselves within our immediate surroundings. As one ancient Chinese master told his student, “I can’t wear clothes for you. I can’t eat for you. . . I can’t carry your body around and live your life for you”. We must do these things—and know we doing them—ourselves.
How, then, is the near-absolute authority of the Zen teacher to be reconciled with the imperative to trust direct experience and rely on ourselves? And to the extent that we embrace a particular Zen lineage, to what extent are we free to question its authority? To speak for ourselves?
For Toni Packer, who left the Rochester Zen Center to establish the Springwater Center for Meditative Inquiry, the resolution lay in dropping the liturgy, forms, and hierarchies of traditional Japanese Zen, leaving only the sitting, listening, and questioning. For traditionalists, however, the resolution lies not in discarding hierarchical structures but in clearly defining the teacher’s role. Often that role is likened to a mirror, which reflects the present state of the student’s mind and heart.
In my own experience, the most helpful teachers have been those who have urged their students to look honestly into their lives, moment by moment, and to act in accordance with what they see. Rather than answer abstract questions with absolute authority, such teachers return their students, time and again, to the concrete, reliable practice of zazen: to a direct and continuous contact with reality, just as it is. Only then can the student realize the richness and depth of present experience. Only then can he or she say, with any real authority, “That’s the way it is”.
One Time, One Meeting 
Great article. Personally teachers are not people who lay out rules for me to follow but inspire me to think about and consider certain ways of doing and being.
Their credibility is just a quick indicator how much time I probably should spend to evaluate their messages.
Like you say in your last paragraph I also believe that the best teachers just put people on the right path but everyone still has to learn things in their own way.
Unfortunately many people think they simply have to follow a set of rules to develop themselves and that’s it.
Those people can make tremendous progress too but they often miss out on the chance to develop the mental flexibility you can gain by making sense of things in your own way.
I believe this flexibility and understanding you can gain by learning your way is crucial to walk the uncertain and chaotic path through life with ease and enjoyment.
If you truly understand some of the concepts informal practice and living an compassionate, kind and mindful most of the time (or in the best case in every moment) becomes easier too.
Basically, life is too random for rules so a deeper understanding is necessary to really benefit from learning about it.
Excellent (as always), Ben. I am beginning to see that there is no teacher who can lay claim to rightful or conferred authority, moral or otherwise. Often the moral authority lies in wise and concerned lay members of a sangha who struggle not to be blinded by the aura of veneration or crushed by the weight of the teacher’s personality. Sadly these are the one most likely to walk away in self-preservation. These are the ones who refuse to become evangelists or apologists for the teacher’s perceived moral or behavioural authority, respectively. (Posted this on your FB page too.)