Three Zen Sutras: The Heart, The Diamond, and The Platform Sutras

by Red Pine

The three most venerated sutras of Zen in a true pocket-sized edition from a legendary practitioner and translator of Buddhist teachings.

These three Sutras, often linked to form a trio of texts that have been revered and studied for centuries, are now available together in this single volume. Red Pine, whose acclaimed translations these particular Buddhist texts are considered canon, provides a sensitive and assured treatment of the classic triumvirate in a gift-sized volume, perfect for sharing with anyone seeking guidance and peace.

The Heart Sutra , with its profound and wide-reaching influence on Buddhism, offers the Prajnaparamita teaching of emptiness. The Diamond Sutra , said to contain answers to all questions of delusion and dualism, outlines the bodhisattva path followed by the Buddha. And The Platform Sutra is an autobiography of Hui-neng, the controversial 6th Patriarch of Zen. His understanding of the fundamentals of a spiritual and practical life has served as the introduction to the teachings of Zen that students have been putting into practice for the past 1300 years.

In addition to new translations of all three texts, Red Pine has included an introduction that ties all three together and just enough footnotes to explain what needs explaining but not enough to get in the way.

Genres: Buddhism, Philosophy, Zen, Eastern Philosophy, History, Spirituality

224 pages, Paperback

First published September 28, 2021

About the author

Pen name of Bill Porter

Reviews

[Jeff Harper · Rating 5 out of 5]

There is a reason these three sutras have stood the test of time and are so important to Zen practitioners. This translation by Red Pine is one to buy and keep on hand. It's also beautifully printed, so I recommended getting the paperback version to keep on hand (and read often!).

[Roy Lotz · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a lamp, a cataract, a shooting star
an illusion, a dewdrop, a bubble
a dream, a cloud, a flash of lightning
view all created things like this.

This is a fascinating group of texts. The first in the book is the very brief Heart Sutra. It is short enough to be memorized and recited, like the Lord’s Prayer; and true to its name, it contains the “heart” of much Buddhist teaching, specifically with the famous lines “form is emptiness, emptiness is form.” The sutra is, in essence, a giant negation of conventional reality—all that can be perceived and conceived. The reality of the senses is superficial, transitory, and illusory; and recognizing the emptiness of this reality is fundamental to achieving enlightenment.

The Diamond Sutra is somewhat longer, though still short enough to be easily read in one sitting. Exactly when it was written down is unclear, though it has the distinction of being the printed book with the earliest known date.

This manuscript (now in the British Library) was printed on May 11, 868, about 600 years before Gutenberg’s bible, at the expense of one Wang Jie. Indeed, this good man even specified that it was “made for free universal distribution,” thus putting it into the public domain. The frontispiece—a line drawing of the Buddha surrounded by his disciples—is a lovely work of art in itself. Even the story of the book’s discovery is interesting. The manuscript, along with many others, had been preserved in a section of the Mogao Caves that had been sealed off since the 11th century—perhaps to protect them from plunderers—only to be opened in the early 1900s.

The text consists of a conversation between the Buddha and his disciple, Subhuti. The upshot of this conversation is very much the same as the message of the Heart Sutra: that everything is fundamentally unreal. Thus, beings are beingless, and the dharma is without dharma. (The word “dharma” can apparently mean a great many things, from “the nature of reality,” to “the right way of acting,” to “phenomena.”) Even the Buddha’s own teachings are unreal. But, paradoxically, though all beings are beingless, for this very reason they should be referred to as “beings.” Apparently, this is an attempt to maintain the practical use of language without attributing reality to what our words refer to. In other words, we must use words to communicate, but we should not mistake our statements about the phenomenal world as having any absolute validity.

The Diamond Sutra is praised and referred to in the last text in this volume, The Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch. Written around 1,000 years ago (it doesn’t seem clear when), it is attributed to the sixth Chan patriarch, Huineng, who preached to and instructed his disciples from a raised platform (thus the name). Unlike the other two works, then, which may have been written in India, this one is certainly Chinese in origin. The book is divided into ten sections and, rather like the Bible, is rather miscellaneous in content, containing stories, poems, parables, preaching, and philosophical discussion.

Despite this variety, I thought that the basic message of the sutra was fairly clear. It expounds a form of Buddhism based on introspection. Well, perhaps “introspection” is the wrong word, since it is a basic tenet of this doctrine that everyone’s fundamental nature is the same, and it is only delusions and confusions that make us lose sight of this. As a kind of substrate of the mind, below our attachments to the external world, we all share the same Buddha-nature. Indeed, in this sutra, Buddha is not so much a man as a state of being, and anyone who attains it is fully the equal of Siddhartha Gautama.

The story of Huineng’s ascension to the patriarchate is deservedly famous. The fifth patriarch decided to have a kind of poetry competition, to see which of his disciples should carry on his mantle. Shenxiu, the leading disciple, came up with this: “The body is the bodhi tree. / The mind is like a bright mirror’s stand. / At all times we must strive to polish it / and must not let dust collect.” Yet the illiterate “barbarian” from the south, Huineng, upon hearing this verse, came up with a response: “Bodhi originally has no tree. / The mirror has no stand. / The Buddha-nature is always clear and pure. / Where is there room for dust?” (Once again, note the emphasis on negation, the message that reality is insubstantial.) This was enough to secure him the position.

As you can see, it is a curious feature of Buddhism that it requires the paradoxical use of language to express its tenets. For example, as the sutras repeat, enlightenment consists of seeing the world as “empty” of form—that is, of seeing past the superficial differences that separate one thing from another, one person from another. It means seeing beyond dualities such as bad and good, beautiful and ugly, as these are only expressions of our own egotistical desires, and the enlightened one is theoretically free from any selfish desire. It is, in short, a kind of ego-death, the conquering of all attachment to external goods, in which only the purest form of consciousness remains, seeing the world exactly as it is, as one undifferentiated whole.

Indeed, there is an interesting metaphysical view inherent in these statements, though as far as I know it is not made explicit. It is that the apparent reality of people and things is due to our inability to come to grips with the passage of time. Everything that exists now did not exist previously and will someday cease to exist. Furthermore, all of the matter and energy in the universe swirls in an enormous cycle, generating and destroying all phenomena. In this sense, a mountain, say, is “unreal” since it is only a mountain at this moment, and its existence depends on a host of other factors. Its existence is conditioned and impermanent, and thus superficial.

There is also, arguably, an epistemology inherent in this doctrine. It is that our conceptualization of reality ultimately warps it to such an extent that we merely delude ourselves. In this sense, Buddhism has something in common with Kant’s system (which Schopenhauer would be the first to point out, of course). Thus, when we call a big pile of rocks a “mountain” we are often attributing certain other qualities to it: natural, big, beautiful, and so on. But what is considered “natural,” or “big,” or “beautiful” are highly subjective qualities, which say more about our own perception than the thing being perceived.

In sum, then, conventional reality is “empty” for two reasons. First, because our minds attribute permanence and self-subsistence to things which are, in actuality, impermanent and conditioned. Second, because our desires and opinions do not allow us to perceive things as they really are.

For this reason, language is a source of delusion, since words create a sense of fixity in the mind—a word picks out an object and treats it as if it were stable. Further, the definitions of words often rely on contrasts (hot and cold, old and young), which are expressions of our subjectivity. However, the Buddhist preacher is forced, by the nature of communication, to say that enlightenment is better than delusion, that meditation is good while attachment is bad, that trying to achieve enlightenment through meditation is correct while doing so by reciting sacred texts is wrong. In short, the doctrine can only be expressed using the very dualities that it purports to move beyond. As a result, the sutras are full of seemingly nonsensical statements, such as that an enlightened one both feels and doesn’t feel pain.

The logically-minded reader thus may be repelled by much of this. After all, the content of a self-contraditory statement is precisely zero. And one could easily make the opposite of the above arguments. For example, just because something is conditioned or impermanent doesn’t make it unreal—indeed, that is arguably the very definition of what is real. The fact that our perception of the world is warped by our subjectivity does not make it unreal—indeed, arguably our subjective reality is the only one we can be sure of. And anybody who has read a scientific text knows that language can be a very useful tool for understanding the world.

But this is all probably beside the point. To begin with, I think a Buddhist would likely object to my attempt to formulate this doctrine as a metaphysical or epistemological doctrine. To the contrary, such a system would be antithetical to the entire spirit of the enterprise, which is precisely the attempt to move beyond intellectual attempts to understand and rationalize reality. Rather, I think these paradoxes and negations should be read as attempts to inculcate an attitude, or to induce a mental state.

If I have any criticism of this doctrine, it is that it seems—to put it bluntly—rather defeatist. All human striving is vain; all attempts at satisfying our desires are vain; every effort to understand reality is vain. A Buddhist may disagree with this assessment—and, in truth, my understanding of these sutras is undoubtedly superficial—but seeing the world as unreal and freeing myself of all desire seem rather like death than something to pursue. That being said, like most people, I certainly err in the opposite direction: getting too swept up in trivialities, getting upset over things beyond my control, seeing my world from the narrow perspective of my short-term desires. As a corrective to this unhappy state of affairs, I think there is a great deal of value in this school of Buddhism. I look forward to continually failing to apply it to my life.

[Anthony · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was interesting to read, but very distantly relevant. After reading Thich Naht Hanh, which was like a cake, this was like reading all of the ingredients separately that were needed to bake the cake.

It reminded me of how irrelevant and out of touch are bible passages in their prose, their relation to the way that modern communication has evolved, and that the message underneath them is there, but distant and in need of polishing.

After this, I doubt I will read any more Sutras. I think I get much more out of the secondary material than this primary material.

[Charlotte Falkner · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is quite a large amount of information in a deceptively small book. My favorite of these, though I guess I shouldn't have favorites, is the Platform Sutra. I think if I'd read the Platform Sutra first, instead of the heart sutra and diamond sutra before it, the heart and diamond sutras would have made more sense. But that's just my opinion in the moment. This is a very rich text.

[Richard Thompson · Rating 4 out of 5]

The three sutras gathered here all deliver essentially the same message about the concept of enlightenment and the path to achieving it, but each one does so in a slightly different way with a different tone. One of the lessons explicitly set forth in the Platform Sutra is that we are different kinds of learners. Some are fast, some are slow; some of us learn from meditation, some with the help of a master. Enlightenment already sits within us. We just need to find the right way to discover what is already there. So the three sutras provide different paths from which we can choose.

The Heart Sutra is a short poem. You could read it a thousand times in a week, letting its truth and beauty soak into you. The Diamond Sutra is a little longer and has very short stories and lessons on the concepts around enlightenment, discussing how to embrace detachment and contradiction and how to avoid dogmatic practice that makes the path harder. The Platform Sutra is more in the nature of a series of lectures, lessons from the master, incorporated into a biography the Sixth Patriarch. I think that my favorite was the Diamond Sutra. I want more than a poem, but please don't lecture me. There's a lot of my ego in the last sentence that shows how far I am from enlightenment, but you have to start somewhere to find your own way through it. In the end, more than anything, I'm a story guy. I love to tell them, to listen to them and read them and to learn from them, and the best story in these three sutras is the one at the beginning of the Platform Sutra about the poems on the wall that led to the selection of the Sixth Patriarch. It made me smile and was both accessible and deep, obvious and confusing. It was supposed to be all of those things and succeeded at them.

Read it for yourself. It will be different for you than it was for me.

[Natú · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent translations from a highly-respected scholar. Compared to some other contemporary translations which challenge normative conventions in terminology and phrasing (e.g. Thich Nhat Hanh's translations of the Heart and Diamond Sutras or Joan Halifax and Kazuaki Tanahashi's translation of the Heart Sutra), Red Pine's translations are largely what one would expect from these sutras. However, the translations here are done with great delicateness and consideration, striking a comfortable balance between convention and approachability. Red Pine offers little in terms of commentary, but does provide useful clarifications on terminology, geography, references to other sutras, etc. The commentary he does offer is sharp and elucidating.

Highly recommended translations which form a logical, mutually-reinforcing trio, conveniently collected in one book.

[Ben Lucas · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Heart Sutra was remarkably short and The Diamond Sutra was, unfortunately, too enigmatic and its full significance was lost on me.

The Platform Sutra was remarkable. It was dictated by an Illiterate firewood merchant who became the sixth Patriarch of Chan/Zen.

His message is clear, universal, and empowering.

“The Sutras simply say to take refuge in the buddha within yourself. They don’t say to take refuge in a buddha somewhere else… there is nowhere else to take refuge… One moment you’re a deluded fool. The next moment you’re an enlightened buddha… Suddenly, all at once, you rediscover your original mind.”

What I found most endearing is that Huineng believed that to encounter the Platform Sutra was the same as being taught by him directly.”

[Geoff · Rating 5 out of 5]

The three sutras in this book are delivered very insightfully. Red Pine is a great translator of these sort of works and the foot notes included add an insightful and educational addition to the works particularly with regards to a reference of the time when they were originally delivered.

I found wisdom and understanding within this book that was helpful to me on my journey back to Buddhism and recommend it to everyone who is also looking to learn more about Buddhist philosophy and beliefs.

[Justbreathe]

I personally learned more from the introduction to this book than the actual book, but the distillation to it's core points was intriguing.

The book itself was too repetitive for me and the ends of some of the chapters felt self-aggrandizing, which is never attractive to me. "And they found the master so wise they never left."

This was not the right Buddhist book for me.

[Jared H. Barker · Rating 5 out of 5]

I'm a few years into my Buddhist journey and this book's simple teachings really helped me feel more comfortable with the concepts of Zen. sometimes some of the language surrounding Zen is confusing. Emptiness, etc. but I felt this book really helps you understand that on more basic level. might help that I was also reading The Other Shore By Thich Nhat Hanh.

[AL · Rating 5 out of 5]

Having no experience with any other translations of these works, I find this one to be very clear and informative, transmitting these key Buddhist teachings to us delusional fools here in the future to help us attain buddhahood. I will be rereading this again very often.

[Garry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Rather repetitive ancient Buddhist teaching and some related poetry, translated by Red Pine. I enjoyed reading his more accessible books, Zen Baggage, and Road to Heaven: encounters with Chinese Hermits.

[Cash · Rating 5 out of 5]

"If the people you meet are ready
tell them what the Buddha meant
if they aren't truly ready
bow and tell them to be good
there is nothing to argue about in this teaching"

[j.e.rodriguez · Rating 4 out of 5]

"The sutras simply say to take refuge in the buddha within yourself."

[Aaron Mcilhenny · Rating 5 out of 5]

The 40th Buddha+Sixth Patriarch in his old age really developed a knack for poetry

[Am · Rating 3 out of 5]

Some sutras in stiff and awkward verse, I'm sure they're fine and literal renditions, but having to look up every third word as it's chosen not to be translated, or with heaps of background context needed, made for hard reading and little comprehension, and not because of the content, but the presentation.

Platform Sutra was far more conversational and plain spoken, without all the endless repetition, reflexive phrases and use of referential names over and over. That might have been useful and necessary as passed on and memorized in the oral tradition, but it is painful filler in the written and translated form.