Precepts: Taking Refuge
Photo by NEOM
Continuing her exploration of the Buddhist precepts, Zuisei speaks of taking refuge, highlighting the importance of understanding what it is that we take refuge in.
As she says, we normally think of refuge as shelter, but in Zen, taking refuge means to “unreservedly throw oneself into” and to “rely upon” the three treasures of Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. And ultimately, this is a matter of being in relationship with. So what is it that we relate to and how?
This talk was given by Zuisei Goddard.
Transcript
This transcript is based on Zuisei's talk notes and may differ slightly from the final talk.
Precepts: Taking Refuge
Thanks for listening. May the merits of the teachings benefit all beings. May these words help and not harm. May they clarify and not confuse. May they self-liberate, leaving no trace of me.
Good evening, everyone. Laura, it's very nice to see you. Welcome.
So tonight, we're speaking about taking refuge in the Three Treasures, the Three Treasures of Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. In Buddhism, taking refuge really means declaring your commitment to these three jewels and to the path of liberation.
Trungpa Rinpoche once said that taking refuge means committing ourselves to liberation. Traditionally, taking refuge was to give expression to that wish to live your life as a Buddhist. In the Sutra, Siddha said that the Buddha would use this taking of refuge to ordain his monastics, and that was, in fact, the ceremony of ordination. You took refuge in the three treasures, and by doing so, you became part of the monastic Sangha. In a sense, by default, you said, "I'm a Buddhist, and I'm going to live my life as a Buddhist."
In our own tradition, taking refuge is part of the liturgy of taking the precepts, Jukkai, or of renewing those vows to live your life along the lines of liberation, with liberation as the aim. Generally speaking, anybody can take the precepts. When we do a renewal of vows ceremony, fushatsu, you're renewing those vows to not harm, to practice good, to actualize good for others within the context of these three treasures. You don't have to have taken them formally—just as you don't have to have taken any formal vows to chant in the evening the four bodhisattva vows, to say, "I want to live my life as a bodhisattva with the benefit of others in mind."
Right now, this moment, you could decide to live your life guided by the three treasures and by these ethical principles that are the precepts, and to use these as the beacon, the direction for your life. But if you do choose to formally take the precepts, then you are declaring, you're saying, "I want to live my life as a Buddhist." In this case, taking refuge is the second step in the process, the Jukkai ceremony, the precept ceremony after atonement.
Those of you who began the class on the precepts, we spoke of the gatha of atonement. First, you're acknowledging all your karma, especially the harmful karma—the harm that you have created, that your actions or confusion may have caused. Then you turn. You deliberately turn towards Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha. You turn towards these three treasures, saying, "This is what I want to guide my life, these jewels, these lights." You turn to them when it's easy, and you especially turn to them when it's hard, when you need ground under your feet.
I can't tell you how often I hear that when somebody is really struggling, they're having a hard time, and they say, "I really know I should be sitting. I know I should be practicing, but I just can't, or I don't have time." I always say, "But this is exactly the time. This is exactly the time when you want to turn." And it doesn't have to look a particular way. Part of what happens is we think, "Well, I have to sit down on my cushion for an hour or two hours a day, and I have to do this liturgy." Really, that turning can be very simple. It's a moment—taking a moment to say, "I need refuge. I need help." To ask of the universe, to ask of Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha for that support.
Delgo Quien Se Rinpoche, a Vajrayana teacher, said the essence of taking refuge is to have complete confidence in the three treasures, regardless of life circumstances, good or bad. You're not making deals, consciously or unconsciously. You're not saying, "I will believe, I will put my trust, I will put my faith, if and when." It's a complete trust, a complete faith, complete in the sense of all-pervading.
The Courage of Letting Yourself Fall
In the Jukkai ceremony, the chant, the Japanese chant for taking refuge, includes the word kie, which means to unreservedly throw oneself into and to rely upon. I've spoken about how Daidoroshi used to describe it as a trust, as a faith without safety nets. He would use the image of a child standing on top of a dresser and throwing themselves into space, trusting, knowing that their parent would be there to catch them. It is that vulnerable.
But if there are no safety nets, when you take refuge, who or what catches you? Yourself, of course. Trusting with the Dharma, aligning with the Dharma, you catch yourself. The teacher doesn't catch you. God doesn't catch you. You catch yourself. And because we sometimes miss, we catch each other. That is what Sangha does.
Kie is both this reliance on the three treasures, but it's also a kind of vulnerability. If you think of that child, they're throwing themselves into space, their arms wide open. That's not really the way we normally think about refuge. We think of it as shelter, as protection—from the elements, from each other, from ourselves even. Kie is the opposite. You put yourself out there completely. You expose yourself completely, and that's the protection.
It feels horrible when you imagine yourself doing that, but if you're able to, it's true—you expose yourself completely, and that is the refuge. Huge. I've never jumped off a plane. I have no plans for doing so. But I imagine it’s kind of like this: you're sitting in the cabin, your legs dangling in space, and every ounce of you, every bit of your survival instinct, is saying, "No. Don't do it. You will die here." And that voice is right. Something will die here. But if you get over your fear and do jump, you find yourself flying, weightless, and realize that true vulnerability is accepting there's no ground under your feet, and there never was.
I just had an image of Calvin and Hobbes. There are sequences where they're hurdling down a hill in Calvin's red wagon, hurdling themselves through space, talking philosophy, usually, and they end up in a ditch, or in a lake, or on their heads. That is the fear—we're going to end up on our heads, and we won't be able to right ourselves. That is why hard vulnerability is so tender: it is the recognition that the universe is an infinitely fragile place, that we're infinitely fragile beings. This is terrifying.
When we realize that, some respond with hubris, with bravado. Some retreat and shut down. Some lash out, defend. Some recognize that the only way to deal with this fragility is to face it, to hold it with great respect. Recognizing that fragility, we take refuge in what is not fragile, in what is unbreakable: Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha.
Three Foundations for a Human Life
The Buddha treasure is the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni, but it's also Anyutara Samyaksambodhi, supreme enlightenment. This is our nature: bright, luminous, awake. Even when it doesn't feel like this, it’s true—everything is illuminated right now. Buddha is also the realization of that Buddha nature. It's not only seeing the light, but living it, feeling its warmth. It's all the Buddhas present throughout space and time—everyone who has ever seen that light, everyone who will ever see that light, everyone who is that light, even if they don't know it yet.
That's a big part of the Bodhisattva vow: a Bodhisattva says, "I know at least a little bit more about this light. Let me tell you about it. Let me share this with you." A few people in my life are that light, and they’re not necessarily Buddhist. In their presence, it’s harder to forget. One of my vows is to be that light for others.
The Dharma treasure is the Buddha's teachings, called undefiled purity in the ceremony. Undefiled because it reaches everywhere. You cannot miss it, you cannot stain it, you cannot offend it. Let me say that again: you cannot offend the Buddha, the Dharma treasure. You can offend people—we do all the time, hurt one another all the time—but you cannot hurt the Dharma treasure because it reaches everywhere. It embraces everything. It accepts everything. It shuts none out, as Walt Whitman said.
The Dharma is also the teachings handed down generation after generation—all the sutras, commentaries, oral teachings, all the words giving expression to the profound truth the Buddha realized. It is the wisdom of everyone who walked the path before us, saying, "This is what it's like to be human. This is what you can expect."
The Sangha treasure is the community of practitioners, the virtue of harmony. Sangha isn’t just a crowd, not a random gathering, or even an intentional gathering. Sangha is the virtue of harmony; without harmony, there is no Sangha. Sangha is also the abode of the Buddha and the Dharma. It’s where Buddha and Dharma live. It’s the practice of the Buddha's Dharma, because practice only happens in relationship—with ourselves, with others. Sangha is action. Sangha is connection, interconnection.
…no one can take away your perfection, your wholeness.
Thich Nhat Hanh said the modern Buddha is the Sangha. Thomas Merton said, "It takes more courage than we imagine to be perfectly simple with others. Our frankness is often spoiled by our fear." How true. We become afraid in our interactions, confused, and in our confusion we turn outward and stop looking at ourselves. When looking at another, we're really looking at an idea we’ve formed in our minds. Things quickly get complicated.
Merton says, "Your idea of me is fabricated with materials you have borrowed from other people and from yourself. What you think of me depends on what you think of yourself. Perhaps you create your idea of me out of material you would like to eliminate from your own idea of yourself. Perhaps your idea of me is a reflection of what other people think of you. Or perhaps what you think of me is simply what you think I think of you."
We can't see ourselves, so we can't see each other. While busy trying to work out the muddle, we forget: I am that light, a light that won’t be put out, that can’t be put out. Why? Because no one can take from you what you've always had. In a conflict, disagreement, insult, or disregard, that is not negated or denied. But no one can take away your perfection, your wholeness. You cannot lose what you were never missing. That is why the three treasures are indestructible.
It’s easy to say, hard to practice. When hurt, or when hurting another, it’s difficult to feel oneself in that light. That is why we take refuge. That is why we turn deliberately, especially when we think we're lost, when we can't find ground under our feet.
For me, it comes down to this: in times of peace and turmoil, I remind myself, I have this body, this mind, this breath, this seat. I have enough know-how and willingness to turn toward what is unbreakable, inextinguishable. Even when I don't fully understand it, or can only partially see it, I keep trying to turn. I remind myself of that jewel in the sleeve, sewn into the hem, as the Lotus Sutra says—a jewel that never loses its shine, that light that cannot be put out.
I remind myself I don’t have to look for it elsewhere, because I already have everything I need. It doesn’t feel that way a lot of the time, but it’s still true. What I have, what you have, is everything.
Precepts: Taking Refuge, a dharma talk by Zen Buddhist teacher Zuisei Goddard. Audio podcast, video, and transcript available.
Explore further
01 : Heart of Being (pdf) by John Daido Loori
02 : The Excellent Path to Enlightenment by Jamyang Khyentse Wangpo
and Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche
03 : No Man Is An Island by Thomas Merton