Temple stories and Seon teachings

Jogyesa's main hall is the Sibiljeon, a hall built in Jeongeup by the new religion Bocheongyo, bought in 1937 and rebuilt in Seoul.

In 1935, the abbots of Korea's head temples resolved to build a headquarters temple whose main hall, unlike their Japanese-style Gakhwangsa, would be in a 'purely Korean' style. In March 1937, the committee for the headquarters temple decided to build it by relocating the Sibiljeon, a hall that the new religion Bocheongyo had raised in Jeongeup, traditional in style yet rivaling the Japanese Shinto shrines in scale. As Bocheongyo was dissolved under Japanese colonial pressure, the Buddhists bought the hall that spring, took it apart and carried its timbers to Seoul. Rebuilt with few changes, it was consecrated as a Buddhist hall on October 25, 1938, and the temple, after bearing the name Taegosa, became Jogyesa in 1962. In front of the hall, look at the tall stone bases set under its pillars when it was moved.

Seventy-one, Gwa, written while ill. (七十一果病中作)

In 1856, the calligrapher Kim Jeong-hui, known as Chusa, then seventy-one, wrote the two characters 板殿, 'Panjeon,' for a plaque at Bongeunsa. The Panjeon houses scripture woodblocks, among them the Flower Garland (Avatamsaka) Sutra blocks carved that same year, and the plaque is thought to celebrate their completion. Freed from exile, he had been spending his days between his country house in Gwacheon and Bongeunsa, and he ended the plaque with the signature 七十一果病中作, 'Seventy-one, Gwa, written while ill,' Gwa being short for a pen name of his old age. He died later that year, and the plaque is said to have been written three days before his death. Its plain, almost clumsy strokes are often called 'child's script.' In front of the Panjeon, look for the two simple characters and the sickbed signature.

In 2009, repairs to a hall at Jingwansa turned up, in a pouch fixed to the wall behind its altar, a bundle of 1919 independence newspapers wrapped in a Korean flag.

In May 2009, while a hall at Jingwansa was being taken apart for repair, a large pouch of hanji paper was found fixed to the wall behind the altar. Inside was a bundle of newspapers wrapped in a Taegeukgi, the Korean flag, used as a cloth: nineteen newspapers and documents issued between June and December 1919, including the Shanghai edition of the Independence News. The flag itself had been made by painting the taegeuk and the four trigrams in ink over a Japanese flag. Its burnt edge and many holes suggest it was used at independence demonstrations in 1919 or after, and scholars presume it was hidden by Baek Cho-wol, a monk of Jingwansa, or by a monk close to him. As you walk the grounds, remember that a wall in one of these halls kept this secret for decades.

Around 1860, it is said, a fisherman named Yun from Yeodanpo pulled up a Buddha statue made of jade from the waters near Jakyakdo and enshrined it at this temple.

In the version recorded by the Encyclopedia of Korean Culture, a fisherman named Yun from Yeodanpo pulled a jade Buddha statue from the sea near Jakyakdo around 1860 and enshrined it at this temple. Accordingly, it is said, Heungseon Daewongun moved the temple back to its old site, rebuilt it there and renamed it from Gudamsa to Yonggungsa, yonggung being the palace beneath the sea where the Dragon King is said to live. In the folktale retold by Incheon City, the fisherman is a man named Son, the find is a stone Buddha about the size of a forearm caught in his net while fishing for croaker off Yeonpyeongdo, and that statue was later plundered during Japanese colonial rule. Heungseon Daewongun is said to have stayed at the temple for ten years, praying for his son to take the throne. Look for the temple's name plaque, said to be in his hand.

Unable to contain his anger, the master carpenter made naked figures in her likeness and had them hold up the eaves.

During the reign of King Gwanghaegun, it is said, the master carpenter in charge of building Jeondeungsa's main hall left his money and belongings with a woman who kept a tavern in the village below the temple. As the work neared its end, she disappeared with all of it. Unable to contain his anger, he made naked figures in her likeness and set them to hold up the eaves. The story says he meant her to hear the chanting of sutras and repent, and to stand as a warning to everyone. Look up at the tops of the four corner pillars of the main hall to find the figures, said to be women, bearing the weight of the eaves.

It is said that a single golden fish came down from the sky on five-colored clouds and played in it; and so the mountain was named, and a temple was built and called Beomeosa.

Old Korean geographies record that on a tall rock near the top of Geumjeongsan there was a well whose water never dried up, even in drought, and shone the color of gold. A single golden fish, it is said, came down on five-colored clouds and played in it. So, the story goes, the mountain was named Geumjeong, 'Golden Well,' and the temple built below it Beomeosa, a name that contains the character for fish (魚). Depending on the record and its translation, the fish came down from the sky or from Beomcheon, the Brahma Heaven. Geumsaem, said to be this well, lies not in the temple but atop a rock a short detour off the trail near Godangsaem spring, on the climb from the north gate of Geumjeongsanseong Fortress toward Godangbong Peak, so seeing it takes a separate hike.

To honor the parents of two lives with a single body is something rarely heard of, even in ancient times.

In the Silla village of Moryang, it is said, a poor boy named Daeseong urged his mother to give the field she had earned by hired labor to a Buddhist assembly, and not long after, he died. That night a voice from the sky called out at the house of the minister Kim Mun-ryang, 'Daeseong of Moryang now entrusts himself to your house,' and the child later born there kept his left fist closed for seven days, then opened it to show a gold tablet carved with the characters 大城, 'Daeseong.' His new family also took in the mother of his former life, and when the grown Daeseong, who loved hunting, killed a bear on Tohamsan and it appeared in a dream asking him to build a temple, he gave up hunting. Iryeon wrote in the Samguk yusa that Daeseong then built Bulguksa for his parents in this life and Seokbulsa, today's Seokguram, for his parents in the previous one. Iryeon added that the temple's own record said Daeseong began building Bulguksa in 751 and the state completed it after his death, which differs from the old tale, and that he could not tell which was right. After Bulguksa, visit Seokguram, the other temple of the same story.

At the highest of twelve grottoes made from natural caves is a Buddha carved into the cliff, thought to date from late Unified Silla.

In the Girimsa valley in Gyeongju, Golguram, now Golgulsa, has twelve grottoes made from natural caves, and on the highest rock face among them a Buddha four meters tall is carved. A painting of this grotto, 'Golgul Seokgul,' in the Joseon-era album Gyonam Myeongseungcheop, shows a wooden antechamber in front of it; the building is gone, and only traces of it remain here and there on the rock. Because the stone is uneven in quality, the figure has lost everything below the knees. Parts of the chest and halo are also damaged, yet the face still shows long, half-open eyes and a faint smile at the corners of the mouth. Its flat body and thin, step-like folds of robe resemble the stone Vairocana Buddha of Chukseosa in Bonghwa, made in 867, so it is thought to have been carved in the late ninth century, in late Unified Silla. When you stand before the Buddha, look for the traces of that lost antechamber on the rock.

There is a legend that a great pond once lay on this temple site, home to nine dragons, and that the founder, Vinaya Master Jajang, led them to deliverance and left one dragon here to guard the temple.

When Vinaya Master Jajang returned from Tang China and set out to build Tongdosa, the site, it is said, held a great pond where nine dragons lived. In the version told in the Yangsan area, he chanted spells and sutras asking the dragons to leave, and when they would not, he wrote the character for fire (火) on paper, sent it flying into the sky and stirred the pond with his staff until the water began to boil. Three of the dragons died and five fled to a valley southwest of the temple, the story goes, while the last, a blind dragon, swore to guard the temple and begged him to make a small pond for it. The Encyclopedia of Korean Culture says instead that Jajang led the dragons to deliverance and left one behind to guard the temple, so the story of the last dragon differs between versions. Look for Guryongsinji, the small symbolic pond right next to the main hall, beside the Geumgang Gyedan (Diamond Ordination Platform).

The monks laid the feather in the gap where a panel of the robe was missing, and it fit exactly; it was not a feather but cloth.

According to an old record kept at Woljeongsa, Sinhyo of Gongju, a devoted son whose mother would eat nothing without meat, went out to find meat for her and shot at five cranes he saw on the road, and one of them, it is said, dropped a single feather as they flew off. When he covered his eyes with the feather and looked at people, every one of them looked like a beast, so he got no meat and instead, it is said, cut flesh from his own thigh to serve his mother. Later he left home and gave his house to be a temple; taking the words of an old woman he met on the road as guidance from Gwaneum, the Bodhisattva of Compassion, he settled at the foot of Odaesan on the spot where Jajang had first built a hut, the site of today's Woljeongsa. One day five monks came and asked him where the panel of robe he had brought was, telling him it was the very feather he looked at people through; when they laid the feather in the gap of the robe, it fit exactly, and it was not a feather but cloth. Only after they parted, the story goes, did Sinhyo realize that the five monks had been manifestations of the five kinds of holy beings. The Samguk yusa counts the temple's nine-story stone pagoda, along with the five kinds of holy beings, among its sacred traces, but the records do not say whether the Goryeo-period octagonal nine-story pagoda now standing in front of the main hall is that same pagoda.

The master wished to enter the holy cave and behold her true form once more, but wind and waves rose high, and he went away without entering.

After Uisang founded Naksansa, it is said, Wonhyo followed in his footsteps, hoping to pay homage to Gwaneum, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. In a rice paddy to the south he jokingly asked a woman in white who was cutting rice for some of her crop and got the joking reply that the harvest had failed; under a bridge he asked a woman washing cloth for water, and when she offered him the dirty water, he poured it out, drew fresh water and drank it. Just then a blue bird in a pine in the field called out to him and vanished, and under that pine, the story goes, lay a single cast-off shoe. Only when he reached the temple and saw a shoe like it beneath the seat of the Gwaneum image did Wonhyo realize that he had met Gwaneum herself on the way. He wished to enter the seaside cave where Gwaneum is said to dwell and see her true form again, but wind and waves rose high, and he left without entering. Stop at Hongnyeonam, built atop a seaside rock cave north of Uisangdae, where the hall was made so that you can see the sea surging beneath its floor.

The Seonmyo dragon worked a great wonder in the sky, turning into a huge rock a li long and a li wide that covered the top of the monastery, as if about to fall yet not falling.

According to Zanning's Song gaoseng zhuan, when Uisang went to Tang China and stayed at the house of a lay believer in Dengzhou, a young woman of the house named Seonmyo tried to win him, but his heart was a stone that could not be moved. Seonmyo then turned her own heart to the Way and vowed that in life after life she would take refuge in him and, as his patron, provide whatever he needed. Years later, when the ship carrying Uisang home had already pulled away, she threw the box of robes and other things she had prepared for him into the waves, and the wind carried it onto the ship; then, vowing to become a great dragon and guard the ship, she threw herself into the sea, the story goes. Back in Silla, when Uisang found a place fit for spreading the Hwaeom (Flower Garland) teaching, some five hundred monks of another school had gathered there, it is said. The Seonmyo dragon, which always followed to protect him, turned into a huge rock hovering over the monastery as if about to fall; the monks scattered in fright, and Uisang went on to teach the Flower Garland Sutra there. Zanning does not name the temple, but the story has come down as the origin of the name Buseoksa, 'Floating Rock Temple,' so look behind Muryangsujeon Hall for the rock called Buseok, said to be the very rock the Seonmyo dragon became, and for Seonmyogak, the shrine that holds Seonmyo's portrait.

When Sejo said, 'The palanquin will catch,' the pine lifted its branches so that the king could pass safely, it is said.

In 1464, when King Sejo was travelling to Beopjusa, his palanquin was about to catch on the drooping branches of this pine, and Sejo is said to have remarked, 'The palanquin will catch.' The pine then lifted its branches so that the palanquin could pass safely, and Sejo, the story goes, granted the tree the Senior Second Rank, equivalent to a minister's rank today. So it came to be called Jeongipumsong, the 'Senior Second Rank Pine,' and another story says that Sejo sheltered from the rain beneath it. The village in front of the pine, Jinheo, is said to take its name from the soldiers escorting Sejo who set up camp there. Once neatly shaped like an open umbrella or a conical hat, the pine lost a large western limb to a gale in 1993, and its form was badly damaged. It stands on the road into Beopjusa, before you reach the temple, so look for it on your way in or out.

A story has come down that in 1574, while Hwanyang was in residence and recited the Lotus Sutra every day, white sheep so often came flocking to hear the reading that the temple's name was changed to Baekyangsa and he also took the Dharma name Hwanyang.

When the monk Hwanyang stayed at this temple and recited the Lotus Sutra every day, it is said, white sheep often came flocking to hear the sound of the reading. So, the story goes, the temple was renamed Baekyangsa (白羊寺), 'White Sheep Temple,' and the monk took the Dharma name Hwanyang (喚羊), which also contains the character for sheep. In another telling, mountain goats came down from the hills to listen when he preached the Lotus Sutra in the main hall, so the details vary from source to source. The story dates this to 1574, but according to the Encyclopedia of Korean Culture, the names Baegamsa and Jeongtosa remained in use until the mid-nineteenth century, and Baekyangsa became the temple's one unified name only from the late nineteenth century. The older name Baegamsa (白巖寺) means 'White Rock Temple,' and Jeong Do-jeon, the political architect of the Joseon dynasty, recorded that the mountain was called Baegam because its rocks were all white. Look up at Baekhakbong, the white rock peak behind the temple, and keep both names in mind: the white rock and the white sheep.

Many dismissed Ven. Hyein's plan for a three-story main hall as a fantasy, yet the hall held its completion ceremony in 1996.

In 1981, Yakcheonsa relates, Ven. Hyein was looking for a site on Jeju for a great temple that could hold its own internationally, and chose this spot, with a view of Hallasan's peak and the wide sea spreading out in front. At the time the temple plot held nothing but a thatched hut called Yaksuam; a medicinal spring had long flowed at this spot, but there was no electricity and no proper road in. When he drew a bird's-eye view of a grand three-story hall, Daejeokgwangjeon, and asked people for advice, many, it is said, brushed the plan off as a fantasy: 'Anyone can draw a picture like that.' According to the temple, he saved even the offerings he received for Dharma talks around the country to buy land, and drafted the design himself: three stories on the outside like the Mireukjeon of Geumsansa, modeled on the grand structure of Gakhwangjeon at Hwaeomsa. In 1993 the main hall enshrined a seated Vairocana Buddha that, the temple says, was made from wood brought from Baekdusan, and in 1996 it held its completion ceremony. Inside the main hall, look up at this Vairocana Buddha, which the temple describes as the largest seated wooden Buddha in Korea.

This is a place to enjoy the sunrise over the sea to the full, and its site, it is said, takes the shape of a turtle paddling its arms as it heads out into the sea.

The site of Hyangiram on Geumosan in Yeosu is said to take the shape of a turtle paddling its arms as it heads out to sea. In modern times, Gyeongbong named the hermitage Yeonggu-am (靈龜庵), 'Hermitage of the Spirit Turtle,' because the rock on the hill behind it looked like a turtle's back. Its present name, Hyangiram (向日庵), means 'hermitage facing the sun,' given because the sunrise seen from here is said to be beautiful. The Korea Heritage Service has designated the area a scenic site, and its description singles out the turtle-shaped landform, rocks patterned like turtle shells and stone gateways formed by natural rock, such as the Haetalmun, set among dense camellia woods. Look for turtle-shell patterns on the rocks of the Hyangiram area, and pass through a stone gateway such as the Haetalmun.

On the day the prayer ended, the royal household obtained a sealed letter, and in it was written: 'Gyeongsul year (1790), sixth month, eighteenth day, at such-and-such an hour, the crown prince descends to be born.' This foretold the birth of King Sunjo.

It is said that at the request of King Jeongjo, troubled because he had no heir, the monk Nongsan (聾山), who had practiced only in the mountains for decades, prayed in this cave, Mokjeonggul, for the birth of a prince. On the day the prayer ended, the story goes, the royal household obtained a sealed letter saying that a crown prince would be born on the eighteenth day of the sixth month of the Gyeongsul year, 1790. When that day came, it is said, a rainbow tinged with red drifted in from the northwest and wrapped around the birth chamber; those who followed its trail found the light coming from the forehead of an old monk seated cross-legged in his robe on the altar of Mokjeonggul, who had already passed away. Jeongjo then ordered the royal household office, Naesusa, to build a temple above the cave, and had Kim Hong-do paint Nongsan's portrait so that offerings could be made to it, the tradition says; Geumsunsa, for its part, says Jeongjo had a temple it credits to the master Muhak greatly rebuilt at this time. The details differ from source to source: the Encyclopedia of Korean Culture records a hundred-day prayer, Geumsunsa a 300-day prayer to Gwaneum, and the part in which Nongsan is reborn as King Sunjo is a story told at the temple. Visit Mokjeonggul beside the temple, the cave the story names as the place of this prayer.

In the late nineteenth century the queen dowager and court ladies came here so often that people called Hwagyesa gungjeol, the 'palace temple.'

In 1866 the monks Yongseon and Beomun repaired Hwagyesa's run-down buildings with donations from Heungseon Daewongun, and the temple notes that plaques in his hand still hang on halls around the grounds. Later the Queen Dowager Jo made donations for the Myeongbujeon hall, and with the queen dowager and court ladies coming and going so often, people called it gungjeol, the 'palace temple.' The temple explains that because it was rebuilt again and again with royal donations, its layout differs from that of other temples, and points to Bohwaru, the large building set in front of the main hall. According to the temple, Bohwaru was fitted out with the features of an ordinary family home so that members of the royal family could use it comfortably when they came, and since the Buddha in the main hall can be seen from its wooden floor, it was evidently built so that people could pay respects right from the floor. The temple adds that such buildings are found mostly at royal temples around Seoul and are commonly called daebang, 'big room'; today Bohwaru serves as monks' quarters, the temple office and a tea room. One of the 'Hwagyesa' name plaques on Bohwaru is said to have been written by Heungseon Daewongun when the big room was repaired in 1866, so look for it there.

In the center, surrounded by the lions, stands a monk figure with palms joined, said to be the mother of Yeongi; and the monk figure kneeling toward the pagoda in the stone lantern just in front is said to express Yeongi's deep filial devotion, bearing the lantern on his head and offering tea to his mother.

Northwest of the center of Hwaeomsa, on high ground ringed by pine woods, is a terrace called Hyodae (孝臺), the 'Terrace of Filial Piety,' where a three-story stone pagoda borne by four stone lions stands facing a stone lantern. Among the four lions on the pagoda's upper base stands a figure of a monk with palms joined, said to be the mother of Yeongi, the monk said to have founded Hwaeomsa. In the lantern just in front, a monk figure kneeling on one knee takes the place of the shaft, facing the pagoda with the lantern on his head; it is said to show Yeongi's deep filial devotion as he offers tea to his mother. The Encyclopedia of Korean Culture, however, describes the central figure as a standing eminent monk with joined palms, and dates the pagoda to the mid-eighth century and the lantern to the late ninth. Climb up to Hyodae and see how the monk figure in the lantern sits facing the pagoda.

Several cornerstones of Mihwangsa's main hall are carved with crabs and turtles along with lotus designs.

Several cornerstones along the front and side of Mihwangsa's main hall, Daeungbojeon, are carved with crabs and turtles along with lotus designs, while the rest are natural stones. Jo Sang-sun, then a researcher at the National Research Institute of Cultural Heritage, wrote in 2017 that the crab, which has withstood centuries of sea wind, turns its long eyes toward the Buddha inside the hall, and that the turtle stretches out its two front legs as if in worship. Noting that the temple faces the sea and that people here, then as now, have made their living mainly from the sea, he read the carvings as Buddhism embracing ordinary people's wishes to draw plenty from the sea and keep their families safe from its rough waters. This reading is one researcher's view, and the Korea Heritage Service's description names the same carving a soft-shelled turtle (jara) rather than a turtle. Look closely at the cornerstones under the front pillars of the main hall and find the crab and turtle sitting on lotus petals.

Because the mind arises, all things arise; because the mind ceases, I see that a cave and a tomb are not two.

On his way to study in Tang China, Wonhyo sheltered from the weather in a roadside cave, and at daybreak saw that it was an old tomb with skulls. The earliest record, the Song Gaoseng Zhuan, has no water in the story: it says that after a second night in the tomb, troubled by ghosts, he awakened as in the words above. The version in which water he drank at night turns out to be from a decaying corpse first appears in the later Zongjing lu, and the well-known 'skull water' story comes from these later retellings. The same place became a restful cave or a fearful tomb depending on the mind, and the story invites us to separate what happened from our interpretation of it.

To reflect onCan you separate the bare fact of your current stressor from the narrative you are telling yourself?

When walking across a snow-covered field, do not step haphazardly. The footprints you leave behind today will become the pathway for those who follow.

Often attributed to Master Seosan, this poem does not appear in his collected works, the Cheongheojip; it is recorded under the title 'Yaseol' (Snow in the Field) in the collected works of the late-Joseon official Yi Yang-yeon. His collection opens with 'cutting through the snow' (穿雪) rather than the well-known 'treading the snow' (踏雪). The translation above follows the popular version. Like footprints in snow, our small choices and words may become a path for someone who follows. We can consider the example we leave through everyday actions, without needing grand gestures.

To reflect onWhat kind of trail did your words and actions leave behind for others today?

The green mountains bid me live in silence; the vast sky bids me live without stain. Casting off love, casting off hatred, live like water, live like the wind.

'The Blue Mountains Bid Me' is widely known as a Seon poem by Master Naong of late Goryeo, but it does not appear in the Naong hwasang gasong, the collection of his songs and verses, and some say it is a poem by the Tang monk Hanshan. The words above are the Korean lyrics sung widely today. Resentment burns the heart of the one who carries it before it touches anyone else. Set down the heavy garments of love and hatred for a while, and let them pass like water, like the wind.

To reflect onIs there a lingering grievance in your heart today that you can allow to blow away like breeze?

The Buddha is the mind—why search for it far away? It is not apart from this very body.

Many people imagine that awakening lies on a distant peak or in some mysterious place. In Secrets on Cultivating the Mind, Jinul of Goryeo says that the Buddha is the mind, so do not search for it far away. He then asks: all day long you know hunger and thirst, cold and heat, anger and joy—what, in the end, is it that knows? Applied to daily life today, keeping your mind on the meal while eating and on your steps while walking can become a small practice.

To reflect onToday, while eating or walking, did you stay fully with that moment, without other thoughts?

'When I bring not a single thing, what then?' 'Put it down.' 'I brought nothing—what is there to put down?' 'If you cannot put it down, carry it off.'

Venerable Yanyang asked the Chinese Chan master Zhaozhou what to do when one brings not a single thing. Zhaozhou said, 'Put it down.' When Yanyang asked what there was to put down, having brought nothing, Zhaozhou replied, 'If you cannot put it down, carry it off,' and Yanyang is said to have awakened at those words. Read as a reflection today: we carry old grudges, injuries and past glories like sacks of stones, while telling ourselves we have already let them go. Only when you set down the pack can the clear mountain air fill your chest.

To reflect onWhat heavy memory from the past are you still refusing to put down on the ground?

Though it dwells in a muddy place, it never loses its purity.

The world can feel like a swamp full of noise and quarrels. The Vimalakirti Sutra says that lotuses do not grow on high, dry ground but bloom in low, wet mud, and the Lotus Sutra likens one who is not stained by worldly ways to a lotus in the water. Cheoyeom sangjeong means staying pure even while dwelling in defilement, a phrase worth recalling when you see the lotus ponds at Korean temples. Your difficult circumstances, too, can be the place where you grow deeper and clearer.

To reflect onWhat strength or compassion is your current difficult situation quietly cultivating within you?

Brewing and drinking tea can also be a practice of gathering the mind.

Depending on the temple and program, a templestay may include 'chadam', a time to drink tea and talk with a monk. The Cultural Corps of Korean Buddhism describes Da-Seon, brewing and drinking tea with mindfulness and concentration, as a form of meditation, and notes the saying that tea and meditation are one. Hold the warm cup in both hands and slowly feel the time it took the leaves to pass through spring sun and summer rain into this cup. While you sip, you can set down yesterday's regrets and tomorrow's worries and stay here and now.

To reflect onCan you take just three uninterrupted minutes today to hold a warm cup and feel its heat without looking at a screen?