釋門歸敬儀 1.60

1.60

序曰：真俗二諦，由來尚矣，不由功用，任運現前。故《論》云：「諸佛說法，常依二諦。」今時行敬，亦準聖言，不虛設也，然須達解兩諦所由。故《論》云：「知塵無所有，通達真；知唯有識，通達俗。」若不達俗，無以通真；若不通真，無以遣俗，以俗無別體故也。正論成觀，令人受行，良以真俗修復，空有交津，迷想見則生途日增，悟形心則高軌潛起。豈不以形纏桎梏，報果不可頓銷，謂隨俗也；心可名談，披析莫知其趣，謂通真也。在言易淨，真理可用心求；據行難明，無始習熏故爾。是知心惑綿遠，雖觀而集起紛紛；身相事顯，屈折而便傾高慢。慢為恒俗所恥，卑退有識同遵，既為道俗通嫌，故當行觀厭，折挫摧拉，加功剝削，方覈情根。所以大聖垂訓，法喻所歸，止在誡約身心，無㳂逸欲。或比行廁畫瓶，或擬危城杯器，故有將崩朽宅，三火恒然；逃隱空聚，五刀恒逐。井河引喻，逼形器於剎那；屠肆牛羊，切性命於漏刻。義當領斯監舉，力勵專征，割略科程，課時賦業。合掌翅跪，𪷤若臨深，欽重仰止，悚猶乘薄。諦惟形聚，但見塵叢，舉目澄睛，無非靈像。理須嗚咽涕呬，慨我沈淪，聖容久謝，惟承餘迹，過由我生，何不悲悼。猶有微善，宅報在人。又矚遺塵，親尊影塔，脫生餘道，對目莫知，猶如我今不見真佛。由此悲慶交懷，無容怠惰，所以專志顒仰，夕死如生。故數數重述，意存常制。

The preface says: The two truths of the ultimate and the conventional have had an exalted origin since antiquity; they do not depend on effort, but spontaneously manifest. Thus a treatise states: “The Buddhas preach the Dharma always relying on the two truths.” The practice of veneration at the present time also conforms to the holy words and is not established in vain; nevertheless, one must thoroughly understand the reason for the two truths. Thus a treatise states: “Knowing that dust [objects] do not exist, one penetrates the ultimate; knowing that there is only consciousness, one penetrates the conventional.” If one does not penetrate the conventional, there is no way to penetrate the ultimate; if one does not penetrate the ultimate, there is no way to dispel the conventional, because the conventional has no separate substance. Correctly discussing the perfection of contemplation to cause people to accept and practice it is truly because the cultivation of both the ultimate and the conventional is a crossing where emptiness and existence intersect: when deluded in thought and view, the paths of rebirth multiply by the day; when awakened to body and mind, the sublime track secretly arises. Is it not that because the physical form is bound in shackles and the karmic fruition cannot be eliminated all at once, this is called “following the conventional”; while the mind can be discussed in terms of names, yet upon dissection none know its destination, which is called “penetrating the ultimate”? In words it is easy to purify, and the ultimate principle can be sought with the mind; in terms of practice it is difficult to clarify, precisely because of beginningless habituation. From this we know that mental delusion is vast and unending, and although one contemplates, the accumulations arise in confusion; the physical signs are manifest in phenomena, and as soon as one bows and bends, haughty pride is overturned. Arrogance is a shame to worldly custom, while humility and retreat are observed in common by the discerning; since it is detested by both monastics and laity alike, one must practice contemplation and revulsion, breaking, subduing, shattering, and applying effort to strip it away, only then examining the root of the passions. Therefore, when the Great Sage bestowed his instructions, that to which his dharmas and parables returned was only to admonish and regulate body and mind, so that they do not drift into wanton desires. Sometimes he compared [the body] to a walking latrine or a painted vase; sometimes he likened it to a perilous city or a brittle vessel. Thus there is the decaying mansion on the verge of collapse, where the three fires are ever blazing; and fleeing into hiding in an empty village, where the five swords ever pursue. The parables of the well and the river press upon the physical vessel at every instant; the oxen and sheep in the slaughterhouse show that life is cut short with every drip of the water clock. In principle, one should accept these examples and warnings, exert oneself in single-minded advancement, trim away the curriculum, and assign tasks according to the hours. With palms joined and kneeling, one should be terrified as if overlooking a chasm; reverently looking up in admiration, one should tremble as if treading on thin ice. Carefully contemplating the bodily aggregate, one sees only a thicket of dust; raising the eyes and clearing the gaze, there is nothing that is not a spiritual image. In principle, one should sob and weep, lamenting one's own sinking and drowning; the holy countenance has long since departed, and one merely inherits the lingering traces—the fault arises from myself, so how could I not grieve? There is still some slight goodness, so that the dwelling of fruition is in the human realm; furthermore, gazing upon the surviving dust, one is intimately close to the shadow stūpas. Were one to be born in other destinies, one would not know even when facing them directly, just as I now do not see the real Buddha. Because of this, grief and joy alternate in the heart, leaving no room for indolence; therefore one concentrates the will, looking up with reverence, so that dying in the evening would be as if living. Thus I have reiterated this repeatedly, with the intention of establishing an enduring rule.