Zen Buddhism And The Tea Ceremony
Zen was the last Buddhist sect to enter Japan, and by the 14th century one that had a profound influence on the arts calligraphy, Noh drama, architecture and especially the tea ceremony.
Zen is based on meditation, a practice in which one looks into the source of the mind, leading to an inner equilibrium between the secular and the sacred and, hopefully, enlightenment. Some claim that Zen is more a discipline or philosophy than a religion, but 1,500 years of Zen writings reveal it to be one of the world’s great spiritual traditions. Unlike conventional religion, with a transcendent deity outside of the self, Zen believes that the essence of mind is innately enlightened, and that seeing into one’s Buddha nature is possible through meditation. It was largely as an aid to meditation and good health that Eisai, the Japanese monk who introduced Zen to Japan, brought tea seeds back with him from China and promoted the drinking of tea. Use of the beverage spread quickly among the priesthood and the ruling classes.
After being taken up by the aristocracy, the drink became a privilege of a rising wealthy class. In the late 16th century, the tea master, Sen no Rikyu, started to refine the art of making tea into a ceremony, stipulating that all who entered his teahouse were equals to share in the pleasure of a simple bowl of whisked powdered green tea. This was a revolutionary idea, since Japanese society was rigidly class bound. Thereafter, the tearoom became a meeting ground for priests, artisans, merchants and aristocrats, a singularly powerful cultural statement.
Perhaps this is one reason that Toyotomi Hideyoshi, a common foot soldier who rose to the rank of warlord, was attracted to the tea of Sen no Rikyu. The warlord became a patron of this famous tea master, recognizing Rikyu’s influence on society and his undisputed ability to create new aesthetic standards. Artists were inspired to create utensils that embodied these aesthetics, and tea enthusiasts vied in collecting new pieces, During one military excursion in the 16th century, Hideyoshi invaded Korea and brought back Korean potters to reproduce the simple rice bowls that are still highly sought after. Imparting the softness of human touch, the bowls rested lightly in two hands, their thick walls warming but not scalding. Senno Rikyu recognized beauty in bowls shaped by an expert eye and glazed in soft tones the pinnacle of graceful simplicity. The Japanese eye has become trained to recognize rustic beauty (wabi), elegant simplicity (sabi), understated tastefulness (shibui) and vague mysteriousness (yugen), a deep response to the passing of beauty (aware) or refined sophistication (miyabi), as a few examples of the many expressions still in the aesthetic lexicon that concern tea utensils.
Consequently, most teahouses have rustic settings. Some even have thatched roofs and all have simple unadorned clay walls, a hearth or hanging kettle, an alcove for a hanging scroll, a simple flower arrangement and tatami mats. For Japanese to slip through the low door, sit quietly while listening to the low hiss of the kettle sounding like the wind through the pine trees, is a return to the heart of their culture, a respite from the demands of modern life and its interruptions. It is a journey back to their cultural identity.