Living God, Loving Zen: Great Doubt, Great Determination, and Great Faith

(This post is based on an Dharma Talk given on October 4, 2026 in honor of Ruben Kei’un-ken Habito Roshi's birthday. Ruben Roshi was a teacher of mine and remains very dear to me.)

We get three parents in this world: Mom, Dad, and popular music. We can have two Moms, or two Dads, and multiple stepparents, but we can still only have one popular music parent.

"Something to Believe In"

I came of age in the late 1980s and early 1990s, when heavy metal music became a bit more glam, and bands like Motley Crue, Def Leppard, Warrant, Firehouse, and Poison were all the rage.

Yes, I am that old! I remember when records were the only thing possible, then CDs came out, then the internet, and then streaming and everything we presume now—all the while knowing that these too will change, as will our ideas of what is still possible.

One song that has been playing on my heart recently is the Poison hit, "Something to Believe In." Life can be really tough, and inspiring, and everything in between, yet we still always need something to believe in—someone to show us that everything is safe and okay.

Some of us turn to parents or other family members, religion and even atheism, the rigor of science and empiricism, politics, and every potential refuge possible to make some semblance of sense and order of this larger-than-life world.

Religion scholars often divide religions into two different categories: orthopraxic and orthodox. Orthodoxy is where we have to believe the "right" things for some outcome or salvation of one kind or another. Orthopraxy is similar but demands we instead have to act the "right" way for a similar reward. To use an example, Judaism is often considered orthopraxic and Christianity orthodox. But what if religions do not quite fit into such neat categories?

We often have this idea that to participate in religion we must have a literal belief system or a rigid behavioral code. While correct belief and correct action are important, we can easily get caught up in these "musts" and "shoulds," because not believing or doing the required thing can have major—and, in some cases, eternal, damning—consequences.

The Zen tradition teaches that there are Three Pillars, or Three Essentials of Zen Practice: Great Doubt (Daigigi), Great Determination (Daifurin), and Great Faith (Daishinkō). It is interesting, isn't it? It is as essential to have doubt as it is essential to have faith. Both are necessary. And the willingness to see it through.

What is there to doubt? And what is there to have faith in?

The Metal Band Poison tells us to maintain "something to believe in". But the lored Zen Master in the mountain peaks of China may very well say, "Nothing to believe in." How can this be?

Great determination is paired with great doubt—the truth of not knowing a damn thing! Like for real, not just saying that to look all Zen and proper.

The Mountain Cloud Zen Center website describes Zen practice in this way:

Zen practice can also help us to resolve our most deep-seated existential questions. Who am I? What is this world? What is life, what is death? Why am I here? What should I do? Traditionally, Zen offers us a way to investigate these matters, and ultimately to resolve “the great matter of life and death.” Zen’s way is very simple: sit down and be quiet. It asks us to believe nothing. — About Zen written by Henry Shukman Roshi

What is Henry Roshi talking about? Aren't we "supposed" to have great faith?

Being Human, Doing God

As a psychologist, I have come to see a middle path here. Having been in more than enough psychotherapy sessions—on both sides of the couch—I have seen that while there are some fundamental truths and principles, human relationships and conflicts are more poetry than non-fiction. The same is true for religion and spirituality.

What if we can read the Bible, or the Koran, or the Confucian Analects, or the Buddhist Sutras, and not need to believe any of it? These words of wisdom carry far more weight than empirical facts, and that is perfectly alright, or even assumed and encouraged. I may not believe them to be empirically true, but I know they are true.

Much like a dream or a poem, what is there true or untrue about it? Take a breath. Is the breath true or untrue, good or bad, right or wrong? Just a breath.

While I am holding terror of involuntary commitment to a mental institution in one hand and Mañjuśrī's life-giving, life-taking sword in the other, the world is completely alive!

Neither taking life nor giving life requires bodily injury. In every moment, we yield the capacity to close or open our hearts. As the Zen saying goes, die on the cushion.

But do not mistake dying on the cushion with breathing no more. What dies on the cushion is our insistence that life be a certain way, my way—what we are born with and who we genuinely are can never die, or ever be reborn. Life is a stick-yielding teacher for sure!

It is with this great determination that we sit in zazen and stand before the living God—not a white-bearded grandfather or Supreme Court justice in the sky, but an immemorial and eternal divine blood lineage flowing through our living pulse.

Our heart-mind is not static. God is not static. As Rabbi David Cooper writes, "God is a verb." How do you God today? How do I God today? Buddha-nature, Christ, and Allah are not entries on Wikipedia. How do we Christ today? How do we Allah today? How do we Buddha today?

How do we determine today?

Ask a tree, she will show you. Ask a dog, he will show you. Ask a child, they will show you.

Pay attention to each “single piece of the highest, greatest wisdom.”

When God introduces himself to Moses, it is at the moment that Moses notices something—he catches it out of the corner of his eye and pays attention. God does not thunder from the sky or quake from the earth; God revealed himself in the puny kindling of a burning bush that is engulfed in flames but is not consumed.

God shared his name with Moses once he was able to pay attention. How interesting. Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh. "I am That I Am. I Am Who I Am." What an odd thing to say. And an odd name at that. It sounds rather impersonal—unlike a name like Jesus or Joshua or Jesse—yet it is quite intimate. "I am Be-ing." Even God is constantly changing! Living and dying like we are a million times a second.

I am also touched by Rabbi Peter S. Knobel's interpretive translation for God's name, "I am whatever you want Me to be. I am whatever you need Me to be." Absolutely!

Be-ing is still not enough. Be-ing here and Be-ing there for others feels more right. As The Pretenders "Roshis" preach, "I'll stand by you." This too is God's name. And ours too!

"Record of the Believing Heart"

Every religion I can think of—including Buddhism—has some version of a faith statement. Judaism has Maimonides' 13 Articles of Faith, Christianity has the Nicene Creed, Islam has the Shahada, and Buddhism has the Three Refuges. There is nothing wrong with faith! We all need something to believe in! We all need faith in someone and something!

Yet, what if it possible for a person to say each of these with honesty and integrity and full capacity of mind and heart:

• Buddhaṃ śaraṇaṃ gacchāmi. Dhammaṃ śaraṇaṃ gacchāmi. Saṅghaṃ śaraṇaṃ gacchāmi. (I take refuge in Buddha, Dharma, and Sangha.)

  
  

• Shema Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad. (Hear, O Israel: The Lord is our God, the Lord is One.)

  
  

• Lā ilāha illā-llāh, Muḥammadur-rasūlu-llāh. (for there is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is the messenger of Allah.)

  
  

• Christos hyper hēmōn apethanen. (Christ died for us.)

  
  

This may sound radical, though I am comfortable saying each of these and know that each of them is entirely true. I may not understand it the way every practitioner across the world understands and practices these words, but that does not mean they are untrue for me.

A special transmission outside the scriptures, Not founded upon words and letters; Pointing directly to the human mind, Seeing into one's nature and attaining Buddhahood. — Bodhidharma's "Four Statements of Zen"

Yes, Zen and God are beyond words and letters, but not beyond compassion. This is great faith!

In our Western Judeo-Christian-Muslim culture, the word "faith" denotes something otherworldly, as if faith means believing that there is something out there, or something after our life, or something beyond or other-worldly requiring our attention. I am not sure Zen would either accept or reject this, though perhaps this story may help?

A man once approached Zen Master Ikkyu and said, "Master, please write down for me a single piece of the highest, greatest wisdom." Ikkyu immediately picked up his calligraphy brush and wrote a single word: "Attention." The man looked at it, feeling a bit disappointed and underwhelmed. "Is that all?" he asked. "Can you not add anything more to it?" Ikkyu took the brush again and wrote: "Attention. Attention." The man began to get visibly frustrated. "Well, that doesn't seem very profound or subtle to me at all." In response to the man's irritation, Ikkyu took up his brush a third time and wrote: "Attention. Attention. Attention." In utter frustration, the man demanded, "Well, what does that word 'attention' mean anyway?" The Master replied softly, "Attention means attention."

Each individual part of creation, each precious moment, each single breath, each subtle interaction, each one of me and you requires attention. Not only that, our very self—if you would allow me to be a bit in my head for a second, that part of us that we can call Christ, Buddha-nature, the Image of God—our very life is in fact living attention, attention bowing to attention, attention paying attention.

Asking a question. Picking up a calligraphy brush. Writing "attention." Disappointment and underwhelm. Begging for more. "Attention. Attention." Frustration and anger. Mockery. "Attention. Attention. Attention." Making demands. Soft replies.

The Master replies softly, "Attention means attention."

Having faith is knowing that everything and everyone matters—even ourselves, even others too.

Three Pillars, Three Bows

Practicing Zen is practicing God. As the New Testament teaches, "God is Love." Love is a verb, and so is God. So love yourself with this whole body! And love others with this whole body! With a doubtful heart, love. With a determined, faithful heart, love. This practice is not for anything called "me".

Great Doubt. Great Determination. Great Faith.

Rejoice in doubt. If we let it, everything can take our breath and life away. There is so much wonder and awe in this world. Unfortunately, this doesn’t always feel amazing. For this reason, let’s practice as ourselves, as others, and as all beings everywhere, ok!?