This is real
In the first few months of 2024, we held several funeral services at MAPLE during our morning chanting. We always chant in the mornings, the same chants every day in various languages, some with drumming and some without, taking about 40 minutes in total. But on some days this is extended due to offering a funeral service. We adorn the altar with flowers, food, water, incense and a candle, and usually a photo of the person the service is for. In the middle of the usual chants, we start the service with a eulogy by the person closest to them, then chant the Heart Sutra followed by another chant for protection, and we conclude with our head teacher reading a passage.
As a group, we were having trouble staying in sync with Soryu’s chanting during several of these services. We strived to improve by setting aside time one week to practice. The main point of feedback we got was to stay with the chant leader and to keep chanting, don’t stop. The chanting of the Heart Sutra was somewhat difficult as the pace changed throughout, getting faster and louder until one was clearly chanting with their whole body giving everything they have.
A resident who had recently spent time training at a Rinzai Zen monastery elsewhere emphasized to the group that part of the point is that we’re making a real offering and a real connection to the person who has passed. Although I’d been practicing Buddhism for several years at this point, as a person who grew up firmly embedded in a society with a secular and materialist worldview, the way in which this was ‘real’ was quite mystifying to me. How could I make a real connection to this deceased person who I’d never known? What was the impact of this service on them, in whatever form they were now? What did an offering mean? Who was it being offered to?
After the practice session, we made some progress as the funeral services continued, but there was still a long way to go. Finally a day came when we had a service where we were rebuked in the moment. As we chanted, it was stormy outside, and lightning and thunder struck against the dark backdrop seen through the many windows of the zendo. As we reached the peak of the heart sutra chant, which had grown quite fast and vigorous by that point, many in the group lost the chant, didn’t keep up, and grew quiet as they listened for where they were supposed to be. But this was not what we had practiced for. Soryu was in front of the altar leading the chant loudly at the top of his lungs, his whole body pulsing back and forth as though each syllable was a cry that needed every part of him to project as far as he could. He heard the group falter and finally yelled, nearly screamed at us as the chant continued: “DON’T STOP! KEEP GOING!! THIS IS REAL!!!”
It was shocking. The energy of the room became alert. And then the chanting continued on.