This week Roshi continued our exploration of the Lotus Sutra. He began by returning to a moment from our previous discussion: the episode in which five thousand celestial beings leave the Buddha’s assembly after hearing that they will never attain full realization. Roshi emphasized this point, reminding us that skillful means can sometimes sound harsh. A true teacher, however, is not concerned with comfort or flattery, but with the genuine progress of students.

Roshi invited us to consider what could possibly hold back such highly accomplished beings. The answer, he suggested, is narcissism. These celestial beings were practicing for their own aggrandizement rather than for the benefit of all beings. We see echoes of this today when spiritual teachers become more concerned with reputation or status than with service. The Buddha recognized this tendency immediately and acted decisively to shatter it.

Roshi then pointed out an even subtler teaching embedded in this exchange. The Buddha did not say that these beings were unworthy; he simply stated that they would never “become” Buddhas. This statement angered and discouraged them—but the deeper truth is that no one can ever become a Buddha, because every being already is Buddha. This realization only becomes clear when practice is no longer about personal achievement, but about service to others.

Roshi noted that this message of radical egalitarianism may resonate strongly with Americans, given our cultural emphasis on equality under the law. While the United States is far from perfect in living up to this ideal, the value itself is deeply embedded in our national ethos. At the same time, Roshi reminded us that this aspiration did not begin with the American Revolution. Humanity has been moving toward this recognition for thousands of years, advancing and retreating in cycles. The Lotus Sutra, he said, represents one of those great moments of advancement.

Roshi then addressed a common question that arises in Buddhism, and especially in Zen: if everyone is already a Buddha, why practice at all? This question arises because of how we understand the word “practice.” When we sit on the cushion, we are not practicing in order to become enlightened. We sit because this is what an enlightened being does. Practice is not a means to an end. This is why the Heart Sutra so clearly states that there is no goal. When we sit, we are already at the pinnacle of existence.

This understanding is not intuitive, and so it requires faith. Roshi explained that this kind of faith is very different from the faith commonly found in Western traditions. It is not belief in a doctrine, but a state of mind. Humans alone require faith; animals do not. Birds fly south not because they believe it will be warmer, but because the instinct is wired into them. Faith allows humans to do extraordinary—and sometimes terrible—things.

In Zen, our faith rests in the wisdom of the great teachers who have come before us. Although volumes have been written, Roshi reminded us that it all comes down to one simple truth: we are already Buddhas, and therefore we must live as enlightened beings by engaging in practice. You may not feel enlightened on any given day, but you must make a leap of faith—trusting that the teachings contain wisdom and that they can benefit you directly.

Roshi then continued through the sutra, noting a section that describes a series of grim rebirths awaiting those who do not follow the Way: rebirth into poverty or war, severe physical deformity, or life as an animal torn apart by predators. Roshi paused here to ask why the sutra uses such graphic imagery. His conclusion was that the Buddha is employing another form of skillful means—a kind of spiritual “scared straight” approach. While it may be unfortunate, some people can only be reached this way. It is like the Zen teacher who must sometimes strike a student to help them see what is directly in front of them. Crucially, this is never done out of anger, only out of compassion and love. The sole concern is that the student awaken to wisdom.

Another important skillful means in Buddhism is the use of parables. Roshi retold the famous “House on Fire” story from the Lotus Sutra. A large house is filled with children happily playing with wonderful toys when a fire breaks out. The father calls for the children to escape, but they are too absorbed in their play to listen. To save them, the father tells the children that outside the house are magnificent chariots beyond their wildest imagination. This captures their attention, and they rush outside, escaping the flames.

Once outside, however, the children discover there is only a single cart drawn by a white ox. Disappointed, they ask where the unicorns and jewel-encrusted chariots are. Did the father lie to them?  Of course not, Roshi explained. The father used skillful means to save their lives. The white ox cart—symbolizing wisdom—may not be as immediately dazzling as a unicorn, but it will carry them far more reliably. This parable teaches the essence of expedient means. We would not hand a six-year-old the Lotus Sutra and expect understanding. We meet people where they are, using whatever means will help awaken wisdom and reduce suffering.

Roshi wrapped up by reminding us that this is at the heart of the service we commit to when we take vows. It is not enough to simply recite precepts or quote sutras. We must respond to people as they are, using skillful means to ease suffering and reveal wisdom. We stand at the end of a long lineage stretching back thousands of years—a lineage grounded in the insight of universal enlightenment. Our task is to have faith in our own Buddha nature, and to cultivate the patience, wisdom, fortitude, and compassion needed to help all beings recognize it for themselves.