慈悲道場懺法 9.46

9.46

Today, assembly sharing this karmic endeavor in the bodhimaṇḍa! Having already completed our prostrations and repentance on behalf of the six destinies together, we must next awaken to impermanence. Across the three periods of time, transgressions and blessings, causes and effects engender one another; this should bring sorrow to our hearts, for thought cannot sever them. People often say that cause and effect correspond like shadow and echo, yet think of them as far apart as the Hu and Yue tribes; but the consequences of good and evil can never go awry. We only pray that the assembly awakens to impermanence and diligently cultivates practice to nourish their own persons, never giving rise to indolence or failing to strive. The wise often lament: even if one enjoys the pleasures of the five desires for thousands of myriads of koṭīs of years, one cannot ultimately escape the sufferings of the three evil paths. How much less so for us, who do not even reach half of a hundred years? In this brief lifespan, how can we be lenient with ourselves? Moreover, worldly illusions and deceptions ultimately return to oblivion: all that is permanent comes to an end; all that is elevated must fall; what comes together must part; all that is born must die. Who can escape this through high office and generous salary? Parents, siblings, and the six relations of kin are cherished to the very marrow, yet when relinquishing life they cannot take our place. Splendor, nobility, wealth, and precious treasures also cannot prolong human life, nor can one use words or banquets to plead for release. Before an encounter with formlessness, who could stay it? The sūtra says: 'To die is to come to an end; breath is cut off, the spirit departs, and the physical form is desolate.' Humankind and things are of one rule: none that is born does not end. Yet when relinquishing life one experiences great pain and distress: the six relations inside and out encircle and wail, and the dying person is panicked and terrified, not knowing where to turn for refuge. The body is hollow, the limbs cold, breath about to end; one beholds signs of retribution for past good and evil deeds. For one who practiced good, devas and spirits attend and protect; for one who committed evil, the ox-headed lictors stand by, and the prison wardens and rākṣasas never show leniency. Loving parents and filial children cannot save one another; loving spouses look upon each other as all comes to an end. The wind-knives dismembering the body cause unspeakable agony; at that moment the dying person's liver and gall are torn to shreds, and boundless pains and distress gather at once. The consciousness wanders in confusion as if mad or drunk; firmly desiring to give rise to a single good thought or produce a speck of merit, yet harboring resentment in the heart, it is no longer possible. Such suffering and distress no one can bear in one's stead. The Nirvāṇa Sūtra says: 'For the dead in a treacherous and difficult place, there are no provisions; the destination is distant, and there are no companions. Traveling day and night without boundary, profound, murky, and dark, there is no light. One enters without hindrance, but once arrived cannot escape.' If one does not cultivate merit in life, at death one returns to places of suffering; sorrow, pain, bitterness, and grief cannot be cured, and are not just terrible sights that inspire fear. Today, assembly sharing this karmic endeavor in the bodhimaṇḍa! The karmic retribution of birth and death is endless like a ring; the solitary soul departs alone, seen by no one. It cannot be sought out, nor can goods be entrusted to it. One must only strive with all one's might, withstand labor and endure suffering, and diligently cultivate the four immeasurables and the six pāramitās to serve as provisions for traveling alone through the various destinies. Do not feel secure merely because you are currently strong and healthy. You should each, with utmost sincerity and equal piercing grief, cast your five limbs to the ground and take refuge in the great compassionate Father of the world.