Tiantai teachers weave doctrine and practice together as seamlessly as threads in a brocade, never letting one outshine the other. Drawing from Zhiyi’s masterpiece, the Mohe Zhiguan, lectures often begin with the “Threefold Truth”—emptiness, provisional existence, and the Middle Way—then flow straight into guided sitting or walking meditation, so that theory becomes lived experience. It’s like learning to swim by first studying the ripples on the water’s surface, then diving right in.

In modern Tiantai temples—whether beneath ancient pines in Mount Tiantai or streamed live via Zoom—masters still root every teaching in the Lotus Sutra’s central message of universal Buddhahood. During last spring’s digital dharma retreat, for example, an abbess used a simple smartphone camera to illustrate how mind and phenomena interpenetrate: each pixel representing a dharma-realm within a single frame. Moments later, participants settled into zazen, noticing breath and sensation as fresh dharmas unfolding.

Daily rituals—chanting the Lotus Sutra, prostrations, bowing—aren’t mere formalities but practical classrooms. When incense smoke drifts upward, it’s pointed out that thoughts and emotions rise and vanish in the same way. Temple cooks preparing vegetarian feasts recite the sutra’s verses, turning meal prep into walking-on-water practice: nourishing body and mind in perfect harmony.

Public talks at events like this year’s Hangzhou Mindfulness Festival demonstrate another facet: lively Q&A sessions translate doctrinal classifications into bite-sized life lessons. A teacher might map the four samadhis onto job deadlines, family dinners or even social media scrolls—proof that Tiantai remains as relevant today as it was in the Sui dynasty. By blending scholastic depth with everyday scenarios, these guides ensure that doctrine isn’t locked in dusty volumes but pulses in every heartbeat, every step along the path.