The relationship between tea and Buddhism runs deep, but tea did not originally “belong” to Buddhism. More accurately, tea began as a beverage native to southern China. After it entered monastic life, however, its qualities proved especially well suited to spiritual practice. It was gradually embraced by Buddhist communities—particularly within the Chan tradition—and over time, this relationship developed into what is often expressed as “Tea and Chan are of one taste.”
The connection can be understood as a gradual progression:
Tea → everyday monastic use → support for meditation → monastic etiquette and ritual → expression of Chan spirit → tea culture and tea practice
Tea as a Natural Companion to Monastic Life
One of the earliest reasons for the connection between tea and Buddhism was highly practical.
After Buddhism spread through China, monks often spent long periods sitting in meditation, reciting sutras, and maintaining demanding daily routines. One of the most basic challenges of prolonged meditation was simple: sleepiness.
Tea happened to be especially well suited to this way of life. It helped promote alertness, did not cloud the mind in the way alcohol could, supported long periods of seated meditation and chanting, and had a light, restrained character that fit naturally with the relatively simple lifestyle of Buddhist monasteries.
From around the Wei, Jin, and Northern and Southern Dynasties onward, tea gradually became more common in monastic life. By the Tang dynasty, drinking tea in Buddhist monasteries had become widespread.
This practicality is one of the central reasons tea and Buddhism became so closely connected. The relationship did not begin because tea was inherently mystical. Rather, tea was physically and mentally compatible with the demands of Buddhist practice.
Since Buddhist discipline traditionally prohibits intoxicating alcohol, tea also became an especially suitable alternative.
Why Chan Buddhism Became Especially Closely Connected with Tea
Tea developed an even stronger relationship with Chan Buddhism because one of the great challenges of seated meditation is maintaining a clear and balanced mind.
Two classic obstacles often discussed in meditation are restlessness and dullness.
Restlessness occurs when the mind becomes scattered, agitated, or unable to settle. Dullness arises when the mind becomes heavy, sleepy, or unclear.
Tea is particularly effective against the latter.
Over time, tea became so integrated into Chan monastic life that monasteries developed formal customs and roles surrounding its preparation and service. During the Song dynasty, Chan monasteries could include tea halls, designated monks responsible for tea service, and established practices for preparing, offering, and sharing tea.
Tea was no longer simply something one drank whenever one felt like it. It gradually became part of the rhythm, discipline, etiquette, and social order of the monastic community.
This is important because Chan practice was never limited to sitting on a meditation cushion.
Walking can be practice. Eating can be practice. Sweeping the floor can be practice. Boiling water can be practice. Drinking tea can also be practice.
In this way, tea slowly transformed from something that merely helped monks stay awake into an activity that could itself embody awareness.
At first, tea might have been understood simply as:
“A drink that keeps me from falling asleep.”
Eventually, it could become:
“The act of drinking tea itself is part of the practice.”
This transformation lies at the root of what would later be called “Tea and Chan are of one taste.”
“Go Drink Tea”: One of Chan Buddhism’s Most Famous Tea Stories
One of the most famous stories linking tea and Chan Buddhism comes from the Chan master Zhaozhou Congshen.
According to the well-known koan, a monk came to visit Zhaozhou. Zhaozhou asked him whether he had been there before.
The monk said that he had.
Zhaozhou replied:
“Go drink tea.”
Another monk later arrived and said that he had never been there before.
Zhaozhou again replied:
“Go drink tea.”
The monastery director became confused and asked why both monks—one who had visited before and one who had not—received the same answer.
Zhaozhou called out to him.
The director answered.
Zhaozhou said:
“Go drink tea.”
The story captures something essential about the relationship between Chan and tea.
Chan often does not ask us to accumulate another theory or intellectual explanation. Instead, it repeatedly directs attention back toward what is immediately present.
The water is hot.
The tea is steeping.
The bowl is in your hands.
You drink.
That is all.
In this sense, “Go drink tea” is not simply an invitation to enjoy a beverage. It points toward a movement away from excessive conceptual thinking and back toward direct experience.
What Does “Tea and Chan Are of One Taste” Really Mean?
Today, the phrase “Tea and Chan are of one taste” is sometimes used so broadly that it can lose its original depth.
A quiet room, wooden furniture, incense, bamboo, and soft music may create a peaceful atmosphere, but these things alone do not necessarily make something “Chan.”
The deeper connection lies elsewhere.
Chan emphasizes qualities such as awareness, immediacy, non-duality, and freedom from unnecessary discrimination.
When drinking tea, one might simply notice the color of the liquor, the fragrance rising from the cup, the warmth of the vessel, the sensation of swallowing, and the thoughts appearing in the mind.
Instead of immediately asking:
Is this tea expensive?
Is it high quality?
Is it better than the one I drank last time?
Is this the correct flavor?
one can simply experience the tea as it is.
When judgment quiets down, even temporarily, drinking tea can become an act of observation.
In this sense, it is not that tea itself contains Chan.
Rather, one drinks tea with a Chan mind.
How Buddhism Helped Shape Chinese Tea Culture
The influence of Buddhism on Chinese tea culture is sometimes underestimated.
Many Buddhist monasteries were built in mountainous areas, while tea plants also thrived in elevated, misty environments. As a result, monasteries often became important centers not only for drinking tea, but also for growing, producing, preparing, and transmitting it.
Historically, many famous tea-producing regions developed alongside Buddhist institutions and mountain temples. Places such as Mount Mengding, Mount Tiantai, Jingshan, Mount Lu, Mount Emei, and parts of the Wuyi Mountains all developed rich relationships with religious and tea culture.
Monasteries also formed important networks of travel and exchange.
Monks moved between temples, studied with different teachers, and traveled across regions. Along with Buddhist teachings, they could also carry tea, tea seeds, preparation methods, and drinking customs.
In this sense, Buddhist monasteries became one of the important networks through which Chinese tea culture was preserved, developed, and transmitted.
Lu Yu, the Classic of Tea, and the Buddhist World
The connection between Buddhism and Chinese tea culture also appears in the life of Lu Yu, the author of the Classic of Tea (Cha Jing), the first major systematic work devoted to tea.
Lu Yu was raised in his youth within a Buddhist temple environment and was closely associated with the monk Zhiji.
He grew up surrounded by monastic culture and learned aspects of tea preparation during this period.
Later, he wrote the Classic of Tea, a work that would become foundational to Chinese tea culture.
The Classic of Tea is not a Buddhist scripture, and Lu Yu’s understanding of tea cannot be reduced to Buddhism alone. His work emerged from the broader cultural world of the Tang dynasty and also reflects the influence of literati culture, Confucian ideas, Daoist sensibilities, aesthetics, and everyday social life.
Still, the Buddhist monastic world formed an important part of the environment from which Chinese tea culture developed.
From Chinese Chan to Japanese Zen and Tea
The relationship between tea and Buddhism later traveled beyond China.
A particularly important historical path was:
Chinese tea culture → Chinese Chan monasteries → Japanese Buddhist monks → Japanese tea culture
During the Song dynasty, Japanese monks traveled to China to study Buddhist teachings, especially Chan.
They returned to Japan not only with Buddhist texts and methods of meditation, but also with Chinese tea-drinking customs.
One of the most famous figures in this history was Eisai, who traveled to Song China, studied Chan Buddhism, and later helped establish the Rinzai Zen tradition in Japan.
He also promoted tea drinking and wrote the Kissa Yojoki, often translated as Drinking Tea for Health.
Over time, tea became increasingly important within Japanese Buddhist and elite culture.
Through later figures such as Murata Juko, Takeno Joo, and Sen no Rikyu, Japanese tea practice gradually developed into what we now associate with the Japanese tea ceremony.
Ideas such as simplicity, quietness, imperfection, attentiveness, equality between host and guest, and the appreciation of a singular encounter became deeply associated with tea practice.
At the same time, Japanese tea ceremony should not be reduced entirely to Zen Buddhism. It also developed through aristocratic culture, warrior culture, architecture, ceramics, aesthetics, social etiquette, and artistic practice.
Its relationship with Zen is profound, but it is only one part of a much larger cultural history.
The Legend of Bodhidharma and the Origin of Tea
There is also a famous legend connecting tea directly with Bodhidharma, the figure traditionally associated with the transmission of Chan Buddhism to China.
According to the story, Bodhidharma once fell asleep while meditating.
Angered by his own drowsiness, he cut off his eyelids and threw them onto the ground.
From the place where they fell, the first tea plants grew.
The leaves could then be brewed and drunk to help practitioners remain awake during meditation.
It is a powerful story, but it should be understood as legend rather than reliable historical fact.
Its symbolism, however, is striking.
Tea becomes a symbol of wakefulness.
And Buddhism itself is deeply concerned with awakening.
The word Buddha means, in essence, “the awakened one.”
This creates a beautiful parallel:
Tea awakens the body.
Chan awakens the mind.
Perhaps this is one reason tea and Buddhism came to feel so naturally connected.
Tea, Chan, and the Art of Doing Nothing Extra
At an even deeper level, the connection between tea and Chan may not simply be about quietness.
It may be about not doing anything unnecessary.
Boil the water.
Measure the tea.
Pour the water.
Serve the tea.
Drink.
Nothing extra is required.
This simplicity comes very close to an important quality of Chan practice: not trying to manufacture a special spiritual state, but instead being completely present with what is happening now.
The point is not to make tea appear “Zen.”
The point is not to perform calmness.
It is simply to give full attention to the action itself.
When unnecessary movement, judgment, and conceptual thinking begin to fall away, the boundaries between ordinary activity and spiritual practice also begin to soften.
And perhaps this is the deepest meaning of “Tea and Chan are of one taste.”
It does not necessarily mean that tea has some hidden spiritual flavor.
Rather, when the discriminating mind becomes quiet, even for a moment, drinking tea and practicing the Way no longer seem like two separate things.