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Religion is, first of all, a matter of man rather than of God. It does not consist in a mere knowledge of God. Theosophy is curiosity. Religion is reality. It is the reality of man who is in need of perfection. Although perfection is attained through binding oneself with the Absolute, it is a prerequisite for such attainment to have knowledge of one's spiritual defects, and religion attains its goal with resolving the problem of perfection of man. It is the purpose of this chapter to investigate how Hasidism and Zen Buddhism look at the nature of man in their attempts to realize perfection.

Hasidism is rich in ideas about the nature of man. It follows the view of Rabbinic Judaism and the Kabbalah in describing man as a complex of good and evil and of flesh and spirit. But Hasidism also has its own view on the nature of man. Rabbi Ya'akov Yoseph developed the doctrine of man and society on the foundation of the ancient idea of flesh and spirit. It provided the critical basis for the doctrine of Zaddik-ism. Rabbi Dov Baer, the Great Maggid, characterized the nature of man as unworthy of itself, yet capable of becoming fully worthy through unity with God. He thus systematized one of the primary teachings in Hasidism. His disciple Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Lyady then analyzed the problem of the common people from psychological and ethical viewpoints in order to assure them that they could attain religious perfection. Rabbi Levi Yitzhak, another disciple of the Great Maggid and the close friend of Shneur Zalman, had a deep insight into the nature of ego. This insight is indispensable for an understanding of the ego in defining the Hasidic dialogue between God and man.

Before we explore the Hasidic view of man, it is first necessary to review the Kabbalistic concept of the nature of man, especially that in the Book of Zohar. Although the Book of Zohar was written in pseu-depigraphic form, mainly between 1280 to 1286 by the Spanish Kabbalist Moses de Leon, in the sixteenth century it became a canonical text alongside the Bible and the Talmud and a influential source for the formation of Jewish thinking. Briefly stated, it is characterized by anthropocentricism. Man is placed on the top of all creation in heaven and earth. There are thee remarkable things that endorse the supremacy of man: (1) the origin of the soul in the Divine, (2) the formation of man after the model of the supernal elements, that is, the mysterious system of Sephiroth, and (3) the influence of man in the Divine Realm. The relation of man and God is reciprocal. God gives man life, blessings and judgement, and man in his turn restores the cosmic order through his devotion, eventually strengthening the upper world. To the Kabbalists, the divine origin of the soul was most important in dealing with the nature of man, because it is by virtue of the soul that man is qualified to participate with God.

This basic understanding is also quite evident in the Zohar. It says,"Everything is in the upper world. Behold, from there come souls to this earth." The soul is regarded as the identity of the individual:

"Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and hast fenced me with bones and sinews"(Job 10:11). What, then, is man? Does he consist solely of skin, flesh, bones and sinews? Nay, [the essence of] man is his soul; the skin, flesh, bones and sinews are but an outward covering, the mere garments for man, but they are not the man.3

Anthropocentricism in terms of the Zohar might be better called pneumacentricism. Perfection of man cannot be attained without domination of the soul over the body.

The Zohar elaborates on the nature of the soul. The soul is divided into three parts: nephesh (Life), ruach (Spirit), and neshamah (Soul). The nephesh is the lowest part, which is closely connected with the body, assisting it in the various needs of daily life. The neshamah, whose root is in the Divine, is responsible for the practice of worship and the understanding of God's teaching. And the ruach is the intermediary between the two. Although the three parts are integrated, one is not necessarily born with a neshamah. The neshamah is given to a person only if he devotes himself to the study of the Scriptures and the Kabbalah and the performance of good deeds: "The Holy One, blessed be He, put a holy soul into him, so as to teach man to walk in the ways of the Torah and to observe His commandments in order that he might attain to his full perfection."

According to another comment in the Zohar, the neshamah is given to a Jew at the rite of Bar Mitzvah at the age of thirteen when he becomes formally a member of the community in order to assume religious obligations if he wishes to be righteous. If a man has no intention of being righteous, the neshamah remains in heaven indepen-dent of its owner. Compared with the neshamah, which is a sacred power, the nephesh, which is given to people at birth, provides power for operating the individual's secular life.

Alongside these forces for one's secular and sacred lives there is the nephesh ha-behemith (animal soul), which covets all kinds of corporeal things. This soul is regarded as identical with Evil Impulse, and is therefore not included in the trinity of nephesh, ruach and neshamah.

Thus, man is a battlefield between the sacred power of neshamah and the evil power of nephesh ha-behemith:

Every day [while a man lives] in this world, the supporting and driving forces of the neshamah and those of the Evil Impulse reproach each other. Therefore every limb of the body is caught between them, between the neshamah and the serpent, who wage war with each other every day.5

If the neshamah overcomes the serpent (the Evil Impulse), the victory will reduce the spread of evil in the universe and strengthen the entire Sephiroth system. But if the Evil Impulse dominates a man, it will hurt the Shekhinah and cause a breakdown in the system of the divine emanation. A man's striving against the evil corporeality is thus significant for the welfare of the whole universe.

The Zohar has three different attitudes as to the nature of the body: (1) the body is essentially evil and there is no hope to perfect it; (2) the body inclines neither to good nor to evil, and it must be trained for religious obligations; (3) the body is created after the model of the Sephiroth so that it can serve as a sacrament to the Divine. According to the first approach, the body originally belongs to evil; therefore it must be crushed down through ascetic practices:

At night all things return to their original root and source. So the soul mounts up, returning to its source, whilst the body lies still as stone, thus reverting to its own source of origin. Whilst in that state the body is beset by the influence of the Other Side [sitra ahra], with the result that its hands become defiled and remain so until they washed in the morning.6

According to the second approach, compared with the soul, which is sent by God from heaven, the body is created from four physical materials (earth, water, fire and air) that are neutralﾑneither good nor evil. Or the body is made of the holy ashes of the Temple site:

When the Holy One, blessed be He, created Adam, He took his dust from the site of the Temple and built his body out of the four directions of the world, all of which contributed to his formation. After that He poured him the spirit of life.... Adam then arose and realized that he was both heaven and earth, and so he united himself to the Divine and was endowed with mystic Wisdom. Each son of man is after the same model, a composite of the heavenly and the earthly.7

It is desirable for the body to cooperate with the neshamah for the perfection of man's createdness. The idea that man's body is a copy of the supernal Sephiroth endorses all acts of the body as reflections of the higher world. The Zohar says: ﾒGod made man after the supernal pattern, each limb corresponding to something in the scheme of Wisdom.ﾓ8 These three aspects probably compose one unified description of the nature of body: the body, whose essence is copied from the holy Sephiroth and whose material is taken from the four physical elements, is actually the locus for the Evil Impulse. Man therefore must eliminate the Evil Impulse so that the divine essence which is in the body and the soul will be finally manifested.

The world of the Zohar is tension between the divine and the evil around man. Man is expected to conquer the evil forces in order to restore the original orderly world designed by God. Yet a man is not fully human unless the divine neshamah is incorporated in him. Using this approach, Hasidism built its own concept of man in an effort to resolve human problems.

Hasidism never takes humanity for granted. The determination of who is worthy of the title adam (man) is a central concern in Hasidism.

However, the issue was apparently not discussed by the Besht. He believed in the immanence of the divine element in human beings. It was Rabbi Ya'akov Yoseph who raised the question of humanity for the first time in Hasidism. He struggled to resolve the conflict of corporeality and spirituality within himself. He was also aware of the gap between pious persons and the worldly masses in the community. He felt need of a bridge between the two.

The body is always pressed by the blind impulse of corporeality, seeking satisfaction of desires without an end. A person with selfish desires and propensities is not worthy of the title 'man.' Such a person is perhaps the same as a lifeless costume or a beast. "The body of man is not man but his garment." How can a person become a 'real man'? Ya'akov Yoseph replies that it can be achieved by uniting the body with the soul: "The body has no vitality [hiyyuth] unless the body is attached to the soul [neshamah]." The neshamah provides two indispensable functions for the continued existence of a human being: transmitting the stream of vitality from heaven to the body and activating the mind and intelligence so that a person acts rationally and purposively. A similar view was issued by Rabbi Nahman of Bratslav: "A man who has no intellect... should not be called man at all."

Learning this from the Kabbalah, Rabbi Ya'akov Yoseph applied the relation of body and soul to various social relationships:

Man is created of matter [homer] and form [tzurah]. They are two opposites: matter inclines to arbitrariness of physical matter, which is the Evil [kelippoth]; form yearns and desires spiritual things. The purpose of creation of man is to make form out of matter so that there will be unity and not separation of things. As this is the goal of the individual, so it is in the case of the entire people of Israel. They are usually called "the masses of the people of the land" [anshei ha-hamonei ha'amei ha-aretz] because their major preoccupations are earthly matters. They are the homer. In contrast, the Zaddikim who are engaged in the Torah and the worship of God are the tzurah.... As with the case of the Jewish people, so it is true with the whole world. There are seventy nations which grasp the branches of the Holy Tree. Israel grasps the root of the Tree, for Israel must supply the divine emanation to all the seventy nations.

The purpose of creation is to bring every thing, every person and every nation into one unified whole around the tzurah so that the divine emanation can vivify all beings in the world.

By applying the idea of homer and tzurah to the relationship of the masses and the Zaddik, Rabbi Ya'akov Yoseph ranked the average persons as inferior to the Zaddikim. The masses are the homer. They are concerned with material interests and attached to earthliness. As long as they will not devote their lives to spiritual concerns, it is almost impossible for them to partake of the blessings of spirituality. Not only the Jews but all nations of the world are virtually unable to absorb the emanation of spiritual vitality unless assisted by those Zaddikim who have reached a highly spiritual dimension.

Hasidism declared, "The Zaddik is the foundation of the world." This was a literal quotation of the Biblical verse "tzaddiq yesod 'olam (the righteous is established for ever) "(Proverbs 10:25). In the Bible, the righteous (tzaddiq) was regarded as a man of high principles and constancy ('olam). But among those who were called the Zaddikim (righteous men) there were also Zaddikim who were interested only in their own salvation. The idea that righteous men can save only themselves and are powerless to save others was already mentioned by the prophet Ezekiel (Ezekiel 14:13-20). Such ethical solipsism was one of the main issues to which Hasidism strongly objected. Rabbi Levi Yitzhak commented:

There are two ranks of Zaddikim. One Zaddik serves the Creator for the sake of attaining the world to come. In the Book of Knowledge, Mai-monides calls that one who does not work for God's sake. The other one is the Zaddik who serves the Creator only for His sake. Namely, he worships not for his own benefit but in order to make God happy and to please Him.

The leaders of Hasidism promoted the idea of Zaddikim who are not only righteous but also in charge of mediating between heaven and earth and between man and man. The Zaddikim are responsible for taking care of widows and orphans, arranging the weddings of poor girls, supporting penniless students, and so on. Rabbi Eliezer of Lezajsk (d. 1806), a son of Rabbi Elimelekh of Lezajsk, described the life of Zaddikim which he saw in his father's house:

If the Zaddikim hate the unjust reward, why should they take money from people? Even if people give them money every day..., it is true that there is no money left in a box [in the house of Zaddikim in the night]. Money never stays with them even a night. They take money out for the needs of the poor Jews and for the needs of Jewish girls for their marriage. There is no greater duty than this at the present time, when in this world there was decreed an edict [of hardship] over our countries as known to you.... Or, they pay money as a ransom for the captives and support the rabbinical students with no relative to depend on .17

Rabbi Zechariah Mendel, a student of Rabbi Elimelekh of Lezajsk, in the letter to his uncle, reported the life of his master as follows: "They [Zaddikim] are called the eyes of community, for they always look after the needs of the community, asking God for mercy on behalf of the people for their spiritual as well as the bodily needs."

There were several reasons why the Jews in Eastern Europe welcomed the appearance of Hasidism in the eighteenth century: poverty of the masses, corruption of the leaders, and pillaging hostile neighbors. But one of the most serious problems which desperately waited for an answer was the lack of self-confidence on the part of the people in their relationship with God. Rabbi Ya'akov Yoseph explained that:

Man can attain the dimension of devequth to God [only] through attaching himself to the Sages [that is, the Zaddikim] who are in devequth to God through the Torah and worship.

An average person is incapable of attaining communion with God unless assisted by the Zaddikim. A man is a "half man" unless united with the soul (neshamah). Rabbi Ya'akov Yoseph pointed this out with his insightful observation: "When there are two things separated: the homer alone and the tzurah alone..." a person is called a half man (adam levad) because he is the soul without the body." It was upon this self-reflection of helplessness that Hasidism eventually built its unique philosophy of man.

A person without a neshamah is a half man, and a neshamah without a body too is a half man. The anthropological concept of homo sapiens is certainly not identical with the religious concept of man. Anthropology examines the development of the human race in the past. Religion is concerned with the meaning of man and his relationship to God in the present. The Hasidic notion of being a half man reflects a constant dependency of human existence on the Divinity. The Great Maggid explains the defect of humanity by the following hermeneutic:

"Make two silver trumpets" [sh'tei hatzotzeroth] (Numbers 10:2). This means "two half forms" [sh'tei hatzi tzuroth]... because man [ha-adam ] is just [the two letters] of Daleth (D) and Mem (M) [which is DaM, blood]. When the Word [that is, the Shekhinah] rests on him, and he is attached to the Holy One, blessed be He, who is the Premier [Alpho] of the universe, he becomes the [real] man [ADaM].

The Great Maggid read sh'tei hatzi tzuroth instead of sh'tei hatzotzeroth by changing the vocalization of the silent Hebrew text. Man himself is a half man. Being a half man means being vain and imperfect. He is virtually formless and unworthy. A man in himself is not yet fully purposive and rational unless unified with the other half that is ﾒform.ﾓ By playing with the Hebrew word adam through dissolving it into two parts: a and dam, the Great Maggid called man in his imperfection dam (blood) and defined the nature of man as nothing higher than his blood, which is matter. Blood, though an indispensable component of the body, is impersonal and vegetative. Traditionally, the Bible explained the nature of man in terms of his origin and transiency. Man is called adam (man), for he was created from adamah (earth). It was said of man that "Dust thou art, to dust returnest"(Genesis 3:19). Dust is a complete entity in itself. But the Great Maggid believed that a human being is not only impersonal but essentially incomplete unless united with God. How can such an incomplete being function by itself? As soon as he understands the serious defects of human existence, man should take those actions necessary to restore unity with God. Man must seek God for his perfection.

By advocating the need of direct unification with God, the Great Maggid, as it were, rejected the idea taught by Rabbi Ya'akov Yoseph that a person must come to the Zaddik for his spiritual perfection. The task of the Zaddik, according to Hasidism, is to transmit the divine emanation from heaven to earth for spiritual vivification of the world and to elevate the lower spirituality to the source above for restoration of the cosmic order. The function of Zaddikim is to serve as a "channel." If, however, each individual can maintain an unadulterated communion with God, the intermediation of the Zaddikim between people and God is not necessary. The Great Maggid advised people to reinstate a direct relationship with God. A person becomes a real man only when he is united with God.

Man is dumb and inactive matter as long as he is detached from God: "Man is unable to perform any act unless assisted by God." Either he must be incorporated with God, or God must be incarnated in him. Being human is desperately needing God. According to the Great Maggid, man must seek God not because of poverty or misfortune but because of the defect of human existence itself.

Imperfection means yet to be perfected. It stimulates man towards hope of perfection. The imperfection of man means that a model of perfection is planned in man. It is a sort of blessing for the future. The Great Maggid reminds us of the double significance of our being created in the image of God.

"So God created man in His own image, in the image of God [be-tzelem elohim] He created him" (Genesis 1:27). This means there are [two images] one image which is beyond nature [that is, His own image], and another one which is in nature [that is, the image of God], [for the Hebrew word] ha-teba' [ the nature] is numerically identical with elohim [ God]. This is the meaning of the image of God as written. This refers to the body which is under the reign of nature, for it [the image of God] happens to be a matter of nature. But thought which is life exists forever."

The Great Maggid says that man is created in the image of God not only in spirit but also in flesh. The body which is under the reign of nature is actually a copy of Imago Dei. The body should not be considered disgusting because of its corporeality. God is immanent in nature. Imago Dei must be sought in imago naturae too, for "there is no place empty of Him" in the world. Although the dam seems the same as an indifferent stone, it is actually one of a pair of copies of Imago Dei, according to the Great Maggid. The body is identical with the other of the pair, that is, the divine neshamah. When a person realizes the hidden essence of the body and sublimates its corporeal reality, he will finally succeed in fully reflecting the supernal image of God both in spirit and flesh.

Man is different from other creatures because he alone is capable of striving towards a higher goal. The nature of man is in the blood in his body. Nevertheless, he is called adam (man) not dam (blood) because Hasidism believes that man is able to improve his nature from one stage to another, hoping eventually to achieve the ultimate degree of perfection. In the strict sense, man is called adam only when he cleaves to God. The Great Maggid explains this:

And why man is called adam and not dam? But, when he cleaves himself to the Creator, blessed be He, and continues within himself [to cleave to] the Premier [alpho] of the universe, ha-Aleph [the Premier] becomes connected with him and he is called adam.... It is only after the prayer [that is, the Eighteen Benedictions] when he has connected his dam with alpho [the Premier] of the universe that, then, he is called adam.

The title adam is only temporarily and expediently conferred on man.

The Great Maggid explains the further meaning of man. Since the Hebrew word adam is numerically identical with mah (what), an answer to the question "What is man?" is already indicated by the question itself:

Man is not supposed to remain on the same level all his days. He must always proceed from one world to another. This is the meaning of "the man grew more and more" (Genesis 26:13) until he attains perfect Greatness, that is, the level of Wisdom and the Gate of Nothingness. This is the meaning of "until he became very great [gadal meod]." The Hebrew word meod [very] consists of the letters [adam [man], which is numerically identical with mah [what].... Therefore, [it indicates that] in the dimension of Mah man can repair the Breaking of the Vessels.

The Mah is the highest dimension where mystical transformation and generation of Being takes place. According to the Kabbalah, it is "the dimension of Wisdom and the Gate of Nothingness" with which the mystical manifestation of the universe begins. After great efforts at self-improvement, a person can eventually attain the supreme level just lower than that of God Himself. The angels and the Seraphim have no need to ascend from their heavenly stages. It is only man who must and can ascend from below to heaven. An adam, though he might be a dam, can even reach the dimension of Mah. A seed for the highest quality of spiritual life is secretly planted in every human being despite his corporeal nature. It was this combination of realism and optimism about humanity which in the eighteenth century appealed to the hearts of hundreds and thousands of Jews all over Eastern Europe and which moved them to join Hasidism.

Rabbi Shneur Zalman, a disciple of the Great Maggid, approached the concept of man from psychological and ethical viewpoint. The conflict of corporeality and spirituality was obviously a problem to him. Man's spiritual essence is a part of God by origin. Man's body is originally neither good nor evil. But Shneur Zalman says that man's corporal activities result from "the soul derived from the kelippath nogah [the Evil Shell of Flame]."

Every Jew, whether righteous or wicked, has two souls.... One soul is derived from the [Evil] Shell and the Other Side. It is incorporated in the blood of a man in order to give the body life.... From it emerge all evil characters.

On the one hand, the soul from the kelippath nogah, usually called the nephesh ha-behemith (the animal soul), is necessary for maintaining the physical functions and instincts of the body, but on the other hand, it can be an undesirable force to cause evil propensities.

In contrast with the animal soul, "the other soul is, indeed, a part of God above." The divine soul is the very essence of a human being. Shneur Zalman built his philosophy of man on the teaching of the Zohar. The divine soul is divided into three levels of parts, as stated above. The neshamah is the highest element and emanates directly from God. The nephesh is the lowest one and is the source of man's biological vitality and psychological functions. The ruach is the intermediate one and involves the ethical power of judgment of good and evil.

In the area of intellect and ethos, the divine soul generates the three intellectual faculties hokhmah (wisdom), binah (understanding), and da'ath (knowledge) and moral senses such as love of God, fear, awe, and praise. Hokhmah, the power of intellect, is the intellectual faculty directly rooted in God through which man's mystical thoughts can be realized. It is also regarded as the source of all potential thoughts. Binah, the technical side of intellect, is engaged in understanding and discernment. And da'ath involves perception and information of things surrounding the individual. Da'ath is also responsible for the control of the moral sense, for it is impossible for a person to express a proper emotion without an exact knowledge of his circumstances. In the practical area, the divine soul penetrates man's thought, speech and deed so that he can grasp the meaning of the Torah, interpret the purpose of commandments and worships, and eventually perform the commandments.

Shneur Zalman's explanation of the two souls differs from the traditional view of the rabbis, who explain the problem of evil by the idea of the Good and the Evil Impulses. They see the origin of evil in human nature itself, while Shneur Zalman seeks it in the elements independent of the human being. He taught how to overcome the force of the animal soul by the unified force of Hokhmah, Binah, and Da'ath. His teaching was therefore named the doctrine of HaBaD after the abbreviation of the three intellectual faculties. And the name 'Habad Hasidism' became an epithet for his school, which is also called Lubavich Hasidism.

A serious problem which Hasidism faced in recognizing the divine soul in man was the problem of evil. How could a person do evil despite having the divine soul within him? Why could not the divine soul prevent his doing evil? The answers given by most Hasidic masters were somewhat evasive. They said the divine soul departs from the individual when he commits a sin.

Man has a part of God above within him. And even at the time when he commits a transgression, may Heaven forbid 'if the divine part were within him, it should not allow any power in him to vibrate even a single movement, nor any limb [of his body] to do [transgressions]' there is no choice for the divine part except for wearing garments upon garments in order to endure the great trouble of the transgression. This is [the meaning of] the [so-called] mystery of the Exile of the Shekhinah.

Their opinion gives the impression that the divine soul is almost powerless and therefore incapable for preventing evil. 　Unlike the others, Rabbi Levi Yitzhak thought that evil-doing results from the body's ignorance of the Torah and the commandments, and that the soul, which emanates from the Divine Throne, is responsible for subduing the body by teaching it the meaning of holiness:

And why is it that the body does not wish to fulfill the Torah and the commandments? 　Because it does not catch the reasons of the Torah and the commandments. If it could understand the underlying meanings of the Torah and the commandments, the body also wishes to fulfill the commandments.

　The position of Shneur Zalman on the problem of evil was close to that of Levi Yitzhak: "This world is almost all of it bad except for a very little good mixed within." The presence of good, no matter how little, essentially means that it is man's duty to separate good from evil by subduing evil. According to Shneur Zalman:

No one should be distressed, nor should his mind become exceedingly oppressed, even though he be engaged all his days in this struggle [of subduing evil], because perhaps for this purpose was he created. It is his task to subjugate the Other Side constantly.

The philosophy of Hasidism is characterized by its optimism about the possibilities of man. Shneur Zalman accepted the struggle against evil as the destiny of mankind, even though within the brevity of one's life one might not be able to purge oneself completely of evil forces. Shneur Zalman neither turned his eyes from the paradox of the reality of evil nor resorted to subterfuge for its explanation. He admitted that the evil power is so mighty that it often penetrates even the realm of man's soul. The root of man's soul can be weakened depending upon the degree of evil-doing. Shneur Zalman said:

One's divine soul neither dies out nor is uprooted from its root in the living God [due to his sin]. It is only deprived a little of its devequth and of its attachment to the root because of the sin.

However, the innermost part of the soul, that is, the realm of Hokhmah, can never be damaged "because of the Divine Light embodied within it." Supported by the strong optimism of this conviction, Shneur Zalman encouraged Jews to pursue the perfection of humanity until "the darkness of the kelippoth will be transmuted to the Light of God, blessed be He."

Shneur Zalman classified the quality of people into five levels according to the degree of perfection.

1. The perfect righteous. His evil has turned to good. He rejects worldly pleasures, engaged only in the study of the Torah and the performance of commandments. He can elevate evil to heaven by reversing it to good.

2. The half righteous. His evil has not yet completely turned to good, nor are his earthly desires thoroughly eliminated. When evil in him overcomes good at rare intervals, he later repents, asking forgiveness of God.

3. The half wicked. He frequently commits serious transgressions and sins because evil is dominant in him. He cannot overcome evil, even though sometimes regretting his deeds.

4. The extremely wicked. He never repents, for his heart is completely occupied by evil.

5. The beynoni (the intermediate). He is neither wicked nor righteous. Evil neither dominates nor perishes in the beynoni. The divine soul also has no total control of his body. He awakens to spiritual exaltation only at special occasions such as during the Invocation of the Shema' and the Eighteen Benedictions. He cannot remove the disposition of animality from himself because of the lack of the inflamed love of God.

Shneur Zalman's philosophy of man was built around the psychology of the beynoni. According to Shneur Zalman, "The category of the beynoni is of everybody. And every body should strive to go past this level." The Talmudic verse "Be righteous [tzaddiq] and not be wicked" is said of the beynoni:

Now we can understand the redundancy of the admonition, "Be righteous and not be wicked," which is unintelligible at first glance. Since he is warned, "Be righteous!" where is the need to put him on oath again that he shall not be wicked? The answer is, that in as much as not everyone is privileged to become a tzaddiq, nor to afford himself true delight in G-d [God], to the extent that would make evil actually and truly abhorred by him; he is consequently adjured a second time: "Thou shalt, at any rate, not be wicked!" Here the right of choice and freedom is extended to every person, to check the drive of his heart's desire and to conquer his nature, so that he shall not be wicked even for a moment throughout his life.

The life of the beynoni is thus a constant struggle and striving for perfection. Is it worthwhile for an average person to strive for his perfection all his life? Shneur Zalman indicates the worthiness of the constant struggle for perfection by the following allegory:

Just as in the case of a material candle, the light shines by virtue of the annihilation and burning of the wick turning to fire, so does the light of the Shekhinah rest on the divine soul as the result of the annihilation of the animal soul and its transformation from darkness to light and from bitterness to sweetness.

Finally, the self-denying attitude of Hasidism is seen in the following analysis of the self by Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev. This beautiful piece of self-reflection does not need any commentary.

No man, or any Seraphim, Heavenly Creatures and the Wheels, can refer to himself as "I," because the word " I" indicates something which has substance and selfdom. Therefore, a person must observe himself [carefully] when he says, "I." It is obvious of what he says, "I." He senses something which is the Being innate to him, and of which he says, "I." Namely, the most real thing that you observe [within yourself] is "I." The life [hiyyuth] which is in him is [actually of] the Creator, blessed be He. The word "I" does not belong to hiyyuth because the word "I" indicates something innate within him. And the hiyyuth is a part of God above. Since man's hiyyuth [which is the very essence of man] is derived from the Creator, blessed be He, it is no longer appropriate [for the man] to say, "I." When the hiyyuth has gone, he becomes like nothing. There is nothing in him. So, of what does he say, "I?" Of a thing which is not anything!

Only God is able to refer to Himself as "I." This is the intention of the verse, "See that I, even I, am He" (Deuteronomy 32:39) I am the Creator, to me belongs the word "I." Besides Him, none of the upper beings could refer to themselves by the word "I."

[If so,] of what can a person say, "I"[ani]? It is actually the dimension of Nothingness [ha-ayin].

The human self is fluid and changes. It is not a permanent substance in man. Everything with him is temporarily of him. Even his own life [hiyyuth] is a temporary trust in him. Man has nothing to be called the self. The only "I" according to Hasidism is God. When a man utters the word "I" to himself, it is the sense of humility and nihil that qualifies him for the use of the word "I." It is a paradox that my I is groundless and nothing, but I am allowed to say "I" to myself when I am diffused into Nothingness.

Knowing the Real Man according to Zen Buddhism

The Buddhist approach to man is substantially different from the Jewish one. According to Buddhism, everything in the universe is composed of a mixture of the four great elements and the five components. The four great elements (earth, water, fire and air) constitute the human body and organs as well as the natural world. The five components (matter, sensations, perceptions, psychic constructions, and consciousness) compose the mental functions of the being. Matter, consisting of the four great elements, is the object of sense, or simply the bodies of all sentient beings. Sensations result from contact with objects by perception, which in its turn activates various psychic constructions such as emotions, propensities and other volitions. And all information is finally examined by the consciousness.

Examining the body and psychology of man according to these physical elements and mental functions, Buddhists eventually ask a real question: What then is the essence of man? From one moment to another, the combination of these elements and components is never the same. A man's whole being not only floats on the surface of transiency but also changes of itself. In such a state of flux how can man grasp himself? There is no permanent substance in reality. What he grasps one moment will be a phantom the next moment. Tsung-mi, a Chinese Zen Buddhist scholar of the ninth century, explained the illusion of the self in his discourse Yuan-jen lun (on the Original Nature of Man) as follows:

Body and mind, united temporarily, give this appearance of being a single constant thing; the ignorant man fails to see through this and clings to that which appears single and constant, believing it to be self [我].

By treasuring this self, he develops three passions: greed, hate, and foolishness. The three passions stimulate thinking and manifest them-selves in speech and behavior, thus creating all manner of karma. Once these karma are formed, there is no way to escape them. "All this develops from the failure to understand that the form of existence in its essence is not the self. That [the form of existence] is not the self means that this form of existence, in its essence, has been formed by means of the union of physical elements and mental components."

There are four material elements "earth, water, fire, and air" and four mental components "sensation, conception, inclination, and dis-crimination", which relate to perception and cognition. If each of these exists as a self, then there are eight selves. Moreover, even the earthly elements [in our body] are numerous.... There are so many things that we cannot single out any as the self. If each of these is self, there might be a hundred or even a thousand selves....

No matter how one examines them in an attempt to identify self, it cannot be found. Consequently, we realize that this body is merely [a concatenation of] various conditions with a semblance of unity. There is originally no "I" or "you."

The above material are quoted form "The Buddhist Tradition ." The Chinese word 我 (wo in Chinese, ga in Japanese) is translated by the editor of The Buddhist Tradition as "self." The concept of 我 is closer to the concept of ego in philosophy than to that of the self. Ego is conceived as the substance of one's subjectivity on which experience is superimposed or the series of acts and mental states introspectively recognized, while "the self" is the identity, personality or essential qualities of a person himself. Buddhism uses the word 自己 (jiko in Japanese) to denote the reality of one's own person that is endowed with the Buddha-nature from the outset.

Realizing that no spiritual substance is found in our body or psyche, Buddhism flatly denies the possibility of the self.

However, this denial of the self does not mean the rejection of the possibility of spiritual essence. After presenting a lengthy argument, Tsung-mi concluded, "But now... we have traced our origin and realized finally that we are from the outset Buddha." This conclusion means, at least, that a universal essence called the Buddha-nature is immanent in everybody despite the flux of being. The Buddhas and all sentient beings share equally the same universal nature as their essence(故知衆生与仏、性本共同), even though there is substantial distinction between being a Buddha and being a potential Buddha. Within this context, "We are from the outset Buddha," said Tsung-mi.

In the history of Zen Buddhism, a change in the understanding of the Buddha-nature is apparent after Hui-neng, the Sixth Patriarch. Before his time, Zen masters taught that the Buddha-nature is concealed in the individual. For instance, Hui-k'o, the Second Patriarch, taught, "The diamond Buddha-nature is in the body of sentient beings... yet they do not see it because it is covered by the thick clouds of the five components(衆生身中有金剛仏性.... 只為五陰重雲覆障、衆生不見)." Therefore it was essential for a person to become serene by meditating in the sitting posture in order to find the Buddha-nature and to attain Buddhahood. In a sense, there was a distance between the individual being and Buddha-nature.

The Sixth Patriarch emphasized the idea of ﾒself-natureﾓ rather than Buddha-nature. He said, "Your own nature [lit., the self-nature] is the Dharmakaya [that is, Body of Truth](自性真仏)." This statement symbolizes the approach of Zen introduced by Hui-neng. Buddha-nature was regarded by his predecessors as a sort of separate entity within a being, or as a transcendent metaphysical quality. But by identifying one's own nature with the Dharmakaya, the Sixth Patriarch literally incorporated self-nature with Buddha-nature. Thus the absolute truth became integrated within reality of one's own experience. It was a shift from an abstract and universal Buddha-nature to a concrete and individual self-nature. One's own nature is in one's direct experience and cognition, but the Buddha-nature, which is universal and transcendental, must be accepted on belief. Self-nature is undoubtedly absolute in one's own reality, but Buddha-nature is only an absolute by assumption. While the old type of Zen sought refuge in the universally independent Buddha-nature, the new Zen of the Sixth Patriarch took refuge in man himself. Under the new approach of the school of the Sixth patriarch, the individual became the master of himself by restoring the autonomy of his own nature. In other words, the individual, by awakening to his own nature, finally learns what is to be called his real self. One's real self is that which has the Buddha-nature naturally within it and that which functions as the subjectivity of human conduct. It is the person himself. But it is a person without the so-called "self"(我 ga in Japanese, wo in Chinese) which is regarded by other religions as an eternal substance -- for instance, atman in Hinduism -- in a human being.

The identity of the self-nature and the Dharmakaya enables a person not only to become a Buddha but also to act as Buddha, because Dharmakaya is the very essence of the universe. Hui-neng, the Sixth Patriarch, explained it as follows:

The wisdom of prajna exists in the original nature itself. By using this wisdom yourself and illuminating with it, there is no need to depend on written words.

Self-practice is the practice of Buddha; by self-accomplishment you may achieve the Buddha Way for yourself.

The way of emancipation is simple and straight, and the five components are no longer obstacles. Hui-neng, providing a new self-identity to the perplexed, concluded his teaching in the following four words before his death: "Self-nature [is] true Buddha(自性真仏.)"

One of the basic principles of Mahayana Buddhism is that "All sentient beings, without exception, have the Buddha-nature.(衆生悉有仏性)" 　Some people believe it and others do not. Those who believe it are often content with what they believe without questioning its validity. But the rationalism of Zen Buddhism never permits such blind belief. To possess the Buddha-nature is not the same as to be a Buddha. The Spirit of Zen demands that a person must become Buddha if he believes the immanence of Buddha-nature in all sentient beings.

The problem that we face sooner or later in the investigation of the Buddha-nature is the problem of man. Dogen pointed out the imperceptiveness of humanity: "The so-called I myself is imperceptible to the mind. My present thinking and discernment is imperceptible to the mind. My whole body that spends its twenty-four hours usefully is imperceptible to the mind. " How can one grasp one's whole being which is constantly changing and floating like vapor and mist?

Zen's approach to knowing oneself is substantially different from the approach of philosophy. The latter is conceptual, categorical and analytical. If the approach of philosophy is the only kind of logical thinking, the approach of Zen must be called illogical. But this approach is actual, immediate and empirical, because what is demanded by Zen is a real person (a real Buddha) not abstract ideas about Buddha.

When a student is asked the question, "What is your original face [which has been immanent even] before the birth of your parents?" Nampo Jomyo said, "the student must answer it neither by using the mind nor by leaving the consciousness." Using the mind is undesirable for Zen, for it will result in conceptualization. Daisetz T. Suzuki, one of the most distinguished modern Japanese Zen scholars, commented on this as follows: "Concepts are useful in defining the truth of things but not in making us wise in a way, but this is only superficial." However, leaving the consciousness is equally wrong, because it will end in the lack of rationalism. According to Huang-po, "A person is aware of his original mind [that is, the self-nature, the original face] only in the process of seeing, hearing, feeling and knowing. Yet the original mind is neither dependent nor independent of these percep-tions." Truth must be grasped neither by reasoning, nor by guesswork, but by one's whole being.

In short, the Zen masters do not ask their students question such as "What are you?" But they urge, "Show me a proof of your being Buddha!" demanding Buddhahood to be demonstrated in actuality. For instance, people know the meaning of the expression: 1 + 1 = 2. But many of them might be puzzled over why one and one are two. Even mathematicians cannot explain this, for the expression 1 + 1 = 2 is essentially a symbol and an expedient short cut for truth itself. What is pursued by Zen is not theoretical explanation, nor conceptual knowledge, but actual demonstration of truth and enlightenment. Therefore, both students and masters of Zen use all kinds of direct expressions to demonstrate the stature of their enlightenment shouting, beating, laughing, dancing as well as composing poems and every other means which can carry the immediacy of truth.

One of the well-known koans is, in the word of Ma-tsu, "This mind is the Buddha." A koan is complete in itself, like a mathematical expression; it contains an impression of truth within it, waiting for someone to recover the life of truth. This particular koan of Ma-tsu means that one's mind is essentially rooted in the Buddha-nature. Therefore, when you activate the mind, the mind in its turn activates the Buddha-nature to be manifested in you, and you become Buddha. Huang-po taught:

All the Buddhas and all sentient beings are nothing but this one mind, besides which no other being exits.... People do not know that Buddha will appear of himself before them, if they cease thinking and forget anxieties. The mind is Buddha himself and Buddha is sentient being.

How can we know our mind? The one who right now utters words is indeed your own mind. If you do not utter, nor activate the mind, then your body will have no form and appearance, nor direction and space exactly like the empty sky. Yet it is not nothing; it is being but invisible.

There are two important conditions which can contribute to realizing Buddhahood: one is undefiled naturalness (or non-activation) of the mind, and the second is engagement in deeds. The first one is usually attained during meditation. The second one has the same effect as the first one, because a person is self-unconscious at the very moment of engaging himself in a certain act , concentrating his whole attention to the object of the act. A situation in which a person is unaware of his selfhood is always ideal for the manifestation of Buddhahood. In practice, Zen points out that Buddha-nature is witnessed in all acts which a person performs: "The one who right now utters words is indeed your mind! (即如今言語者正是汝心)"

Despite its vast literature recording the sayings of the masters in the past, Zen Buddhism is not necessarily interested in the past nor concerned about the future. The past is almost dead, like a corpse, and the future is still potential. Both are not actual, and therefore of no concern to Zen. What is vital to Zen is the now. The now is real, direct, and undivided. The now is true, honest and not deceptive. Only a person in the now is responsive to the Buddha-nature and therefore capable of being a Buddha. Dogen commands, "Submit yourself to cross-exami-nation in the now! Is he a deluded one or an undisturbed one? This [self-examination] is an interview with the Buddhas and the Patri-archs." If you are not awakened to your own nature now, who can assist you in the way? The past is no longer available, and the future is yet to come. Timeﾑespecially the present timeﾑis the only property of a human being. Time is probably the only capital which we can invest for the attainment of our ultimate goal.

Dogen was perhaps the first Japanese who had ever given a definition of the now. He said that the now comes into reality through performing acts:

The now in which I practice Buddhism does not consist in my own substance and essence, nor does it come and go from myself. Reality called the now never exists prior to practicing Buddhism. The now is in the actualization of Buddhist practices.

The now is found in the performance itself. Time consists not in movement and lapse but in action. Dogen, unlike Aristotle, feels no interest in continuation of time. Leisure was abundant to the Greek philosophers. But to the Buddhists there was no spare time for indulging in definition of abstract ideas. To a religious person every moment should be fully utilized in order to achieve the ultimate goal of life. If we spend our hours without purpose, time will be wasted and killed. But when we engage in meaningful acts, time too becomes meaningful and receives life. Biologically, we human beings are mere phenomena on the surface of the endless stream of time. But metaphysically, at least the present never becomes actual without our acts and deeds. The past is meaningful if it preserves memory of meaningful acts; the future will be important if it is pregnant with useful events. In any case, time is empty and nothing unless some action and meaning are added to it.

The best example of deed (or practice) according to Dogen is zazen: "Zazen is the practice of Buddha. Zazen is the ultimate practice [lit., the non-doing 不為]. This is the True Self." "The immeasurable zazen is the Self." The logic of Dogen is very consistent. Zazen is a practice; it is non-artificiality; therefore it is the manifestation of the true self. The now is in practice and deed; therefore the now must be in the real manifestation of the true self.

According to Dogen, "the very moment of Enlightenment is the now." This statement implies another important issue. Namely, as truth is always in the now, so truth must and can be expressed through concrete acts only and always in the now.

　Attaining Buddhahood depends on the degree of one's undefiled being. It might be painful for a Zen student to find a proper way of expressing truth after having attained absolute reality, for it is beyond words. But the way of Truth must be expressed in some manner, if Truth is to be attained. In Chinese tao-te (道得 to attain the way) means "to be able to tell" also. Lin-chi taught that one's real nature is formless yet actually present in the body. Demanding from his students that they must realize how it looks, he grabbed a monk and said, "Speak! Speak! (tao, tao)." But the monk remained irresolute, and could not answer him.

If the mind is the Buddha, the existence of the mind no matter how formless must be demonstrated. The following story shows us an amazing example of Zen pragmatism. Shih-kung and Hsi-t'ang (735--814) were disciples of Ma-tsu. Shih-kung, who had been a hunter, became a monk after listening to the master Ma-tsu. Hsi-t'ang was listed among the top three heirs of Ma-tsu with Pai-chang and Nan-chuan.

Shih-kung once asked Hsi-t'ang: "Do you know how to grasp the empty sky?"

Hsi-t'ang answered: "I know how to grasp it" ... and he clutched air in his hand.

Shih-kung said: "Oh, you do not know how to do it at all!"

Hsi-t'ang therefore asked: "My brother, how do you grasp the empty sky?"

Then Shih-kung suddenly grabbed Hsi-t'ang's nose and jerked it.

Crying out in pain, Hsi-t'ang said: "O, what a terrible murderer! you who jerked the other's nose! You [however] enabled me immediately to get out of [my illusion of the emptiness]."

Shih-kung said: "Yes, everybody should get it only after grasping the empty sky in such a manner."

When Dogen says, "The Self is neither being, nor nothing, but non-doing," or "the Self is [something like] nostrils before the birth of the parents," this True Self must be one that can be grasped through the same kind of pragmatic approach as told in the story above.

It was probably not easy for a person to awaken to his own nature under the pressure of his master, as in the case of Lin-chi and his confused student. In most cases, awakening takes place through an unexpected incident such as a clink of stones or a call. Mat-tsu was probably the earliest master to use the technique of calling one's name as an effective stimulus to awakening:

Wu-yeh (d. 823) asked Ma-tsu: "What is the special symbol of the arrival of Bodhidharma from the west?"

Ma-tsu said: "Venerable, I am busy now. Please leave me for a while, and come again another time."

When Wu-yeh had almost left the room, Ma-tsu called him and said: "Venerable!"

And when Wu-yeh turned his head, [without a moment's delay] Ma-tsu shouted, "What's this?"

Wu-yeh was instantly awakened, and bowed to him.

There is no attainment of truth (or the Tao) as long as one seeks it outside oneself. Trying to do so results from insecurity. According to the Buddhist view, one's insecurity is the reverse of one's self-attachment. Bodhidharma explained the Buddhist view of the self as follows:

You do not attain the Way because of seeing yourself. If you do not see the self, you instantly attain the Way. The self means the ego.... When you achieve Nothingness, even the self will disappear.... When you thoroughly eliminate the self, everything is from the outset nothing.

The self is an obstacle to awakening to the Tao, and the dichotomy of "I" and "Other " is an illusion, since Buddhism maintains the doctrine that "Everything is from the outset nothing." According to Dogen, "The ego is the self. The self is inevitably the You-- it consists of the four great elements and the five components. (自は己なり、己は必定これ汝為り、四大五蘊をいふ.)"

The I-You relationship is limited to physical and psychological conditions. It is not absolute. Therefore, Zen seeks the absolute reality beyond the world of I and You. According to Zen Buddhism, absolute reality is not aware of the self nor of others. "When all Buddhas are truly in Buddhahood, they have no awareness of their being Buddhas." Thus leaving the world of phenomena, Zen Buddhists realize the world of equality, as Huang-po said, "If you leave all phenomena, there will no longer be distinction of sentient beings and all the Buddhas."

Equality in Buddhism, however, does not mean the loss of individuality. On the contrary, one who has attained absolute reality identifies oneself with all the universe: "All the three thousand worlds are virtually your own [Real] Self.(三千世界都来是汝箇自己)" According to Lin-chi, "If you become master of yourself under any circumstance, wherever you stand, everything is true.(随所作主、立処皆真)" Being master of oneself is impossible unless one is liberated from oneself. Slaves seek freedom, but free citizens live as they like. The life of an emancipated person is "sprightly and vivid.(活溌溌地)"

Freedom consists in what he is as he is. The essence of one's being is not bound to any circumstance. One's physical being is limited to the four great elements and the five components, but one's essence is free and open to all directions. To be a human is really wonderful, according to Ts'ung-shen (778--897), a heir of Nan-chuan, who was usually called Chao-chuo after the name of the town where he lived. The town Chao-chuo had four main gates, one in each direction as was usual in Chinese towns.

Once a monk asked the master Chao-chuo, "What is this Chao-chuo?" [that is, Who are you?]

The master replied, "[I am at] the East Gate, the West Gate, the South Gate, and the North Gate!"

Both Zen Buddhism and Hasidism consider a human being to be compounded of corporeal elements and spiritual essence. Corporeal elements include physical materials for the body and mental functions of the mind. Buddhism teaches that the body is composed of the four great elements and the mind consists of sensation, perception, volition and consciousness. All beings in the universe composed of a combina-tion of these elements are regarded as mere phenomena which are virtually empty in terms of substance. Therefore, it is wrong, according to Buddhism, to consider that man has an ego or a soul which is a permanent substance. All wrongdoing, disorder, and evil are regarded as a result of the illusion of ego. Bodhidharma said: "If you are selfless, you will not make either good or wrong when you meet things.(若無我、逢物不生是非)"

Hasidism maintains a similar view of the corporeal aspect of human beings. Hasidism is basically not interested in the physical material which composes the body. Although it refers to the four elements, the four elements are mentioned only in their relation to human psychology: fire in relation to anger and haughtiness, or humility; water connected with propensities and jealousy, or freedom from avarice; air involved with deception, flattery and gossip, or silence; earth related to melancholy and laziness, or joy. It says a person by nature is no greater than "blood," a compound of matter and vitality. Man's natural tendency is just to fulfill his desires and propensities, and this becomes the habitat of the Evil Impulse. To Hasidism, however, things of the world are never regarded as empty phenomena; each is a creation of God, serving Him according to its own level.

Man's spiritual essence, according to Zen Buddhism, is "self-nature." It is actually the embodiment of the Universal Essence (Dharmakaya) in the individual. Self-nature possesses supreme wisdom (prajna-paramita) with itself. Being identical with Buddha-nature, it is eternal, infinite and universal, yet still individual.

Hasidism believes that the neshamah, one's spiritual essence, is part of the Divinity. Both the neshamah and self-nature are ultimate essences of humanity. Yet we must not fail to recognize fundamental differences between the two. Self-nature is not a substance but a nature or essence of one's being. In a sense, it can be identical with one's life, as the Sixth Patriarch says: "If there is self-nature, the body and mind exist; if self-nature departs, the body and mind are destroyed.(性在身心存、性去身[心]壊)" Compared with self-nature, neshamah is a substance as well as an essence (form, tzurah). But it is not necessarily identical with one's life. Hasidism attributes the normal function of life to the nephesh, which is the lowest level of the soul. The neshamah is needed only for those who want to attain the ultimate goal of life, that is, the constant abidance with God, for it provides them insight and wisdom to understand the profundity of the Torah. At this point, neshamah is in contrast with Buddha-nature, which is equally immanent to all sentient beings regardless of their present concerns.

One of the most interesting parallels between the two religions is their views of the concept of I and ego. Buddhism denies ego; therefore, it is quite impossible for Zen to confirm the possibility of metaphysical dialogue such as conceived by Martin Buber (1878-1965). To Buber, the I-You relation represents the personal encounter of man and God in which "everyone can speak the You and then becomes I." Buber believed that self-consciousness increases its definition at the encounter with the eternal You. Dialogue is necessary in order to wipe out the indistinctiveness of self-consciousness. Buber never doubted the sub-jectivity of I. "The You encounters me. But I enter into a direct relationship to it." The Buberian I-You relation consists of a rather strange combination of the silently confronting You and the eloquently addressing I. It is virtually a monologue before a mirror: the way of Buber is loquoro, ergo sum (I speak, therefore I am). Buber's philosophy of dialogue built for clarification of the self collapses if the existence of the eloquent ego is denied.

To Zen, the I-You relation is factitious as well as illusive. At best, it can not last beyond a temporary reality which is conditioned by the four material elements and the five mental components as defined by Dogen. Zen does not distinguish between I-You and I-It. All illusions result from the assumption of I versus Other. The only legitimate encounter in Zen Buddhism is the encounter of the Buddha and Buddha, because ultimately all of sentient beings are Buddha. As Dogen says, "All Buddhas in the past, in the present, and in the future, when they attain Buddhahood, each of them becomes [identical with] Shakyamuni the Buddha without exception. This is [the meaning of] 'This mind is the Buddha.'" "All the Buddhas transmit the Dharma to the Buddhas, and all the Patriarchs to the Patriarchs without exception.... No one who is not a Buddha can approve of the attainment of the other's Buddhahood."

Hasidism conceives that man has no subjectivity in the ultimate sense. The neshamah, the supreme essence of the soul, is not man's possession, but God's. A man without the neshamah is a clod of corporeality and the Evil Impulse. What seems to a man to be his own self is essentially worthless. The essence of ego (ani) is nothing (ayin). The I-You relation is possible for Hasidim only at the beginning of prayer and petition to God. At the climax of an encounter with God, a man realizes his unworthiness and the absence of his I. God is the only eternal I. Therefore, as Levi Yitzhak says, "Of the level of nothingness, said our teacher Moses who himself was at the level of nothingness, 'And what are we'(Exodus 16:7); King David said, 'I am a maggot and a worm'; our father Abraham said, 'I am dust and ashes'(Genesis 18:27)." *

Thus, dialogue between man and God, according to Hasidism, ends in the It-I relation. In Hasidism, annihilation of the self is actualized at the moment of encounter with God rather than in preparation for the meeting. In Zen Buddhism, the annihilation of the self is a prerequisite for enlightenment.

Practice and deed are encouraged by both Hasidism and Zen Buddhism. They are useful in eliminating the danger of dogmatism and doctrinairism as well as in recruiting fresh vitality in religious life. Hasidism teaches that a person can purify his corporeality through prayer, study and other deeds so that the body will eventually follow the soul. However, Hasidism places greater emphasis on prayer than on other deeds. Zen Buddhism commands the need of zazen practice alongside daily works and koan study.

The way of Zen is not in cogito, ergo sum but in agito, ergo sum (I act, therefore I am). In continuous acts of everyday-mindedness one forgets one's mind and circumstances. This self-oblivion is, however, not the same as the oblivion of reality. On the contrary, it is the full actualization of the Dharma, therefore the full manifestation of one's essence. The fact that one is engaged in continuous acts is nothing but proof of one's existence.

The way of Hasidism is in oro, ergo sum (I pray, therefore I am). When a person stands in the presence of God, he realizes his nothingness. Man's full perfection will be actualized only through uniting himself with God according to Hasidism. And prayer is a most efficient tool for achieving this goal. As the Great Maggid says, "A person can ascend to his own gate in heaven through prayer. Prayer is a ladder which stands on earth, and whose head reaches to heaven."

*[Levi Yitzhak confused the verse "Man is a maggot and a son of Adam is a worm" (Job 25:6) and the verse "I am a worm and no man"(Psalms 22:7), which is credited to King David.]

2: Zazen and Devequth

3: Problem of "Strange Thoughts"

4: Annihilating Selfhood and Attaining Ecstasy

5: Concept of Man

6: Insecurity of Life

　Copyright: Jacob Y. Teshima 1995@ Registered through The University Press of America.