止觀輔行傳弘決 2.63

2.63

Now, the text cites the sūtra regarding the 'secure ford'; a 'ford' is a ferry-crossing, that is, a place where one crosses the water. This pertains both to one's own practice and to converting others. When one's own practice encounters difficulties, proceeding along the perilous [path] is permitted. For example, if compelled to practice amidst evil due to royal affairs and the like, but when free of difficulties and evil ceases, one must follow the good; the capacities of others are likewise [various], and should be carefully examined. Below, under 'Furthermore', it therefore verifies this using the visible phenomena of water and fire. 'Yi' means level or smooth. 'Dao' means to tread upon. 'Nie' means to step upon or to leap over. Below, under 'Furthermore, [he does] not...', it reproaches him for mistaking people's capacities and exclusively having them engage in evil. Below, under 'Vimalakīrti...', it adduces proof, citing the two vehicles to draw an analogy to an ordinary master. Below, under 'Naturally...', it laments. 'Then the sea of precepts...', etc., uses an analogy to state that such persons are termed 'dead' within the Buddhadharma. The Vinaya says: 'Just as a corpse is not harboured by the great ocean, but is blown by a swift wind and cast upon the shore.' Committing a grave offense is like being a corpse, not harboured by the ocean of the Saṅgha. Performing the rite of expulsion is like being blown by a swift wind. Casting them outside the community is like depositing them on the shore. Because both self and other are reproached, it says 'practicing and preaching'. If one has not practiced it but only preaches it, one is like Ariṭṭha, who defied the Saṅgha's secluded admonitions, incurring only a duṣkṛta; but if one claims to have realized [the path] amidst evil, falling into the offense of claiming superhuman states, and both practices it oneself and professes it orally, or additionally claims realization, then it entails two pārājikas and one sthūlātyaya. The text relies on the grave pārājika, hence it says 'expulsion'. If one merely practices it oneself and teaches it to others, it entails one pārājika and one sthūlātyaya. 'Do not allow a poisonous tree...', etc., quotes an analogy for expulsion. Fascicle 3 of the Great [Nirvāṇa] Sūtra says: 'For example, in the place where an elder resides, poisonous trees grow in his fields, estates, and houses. When the elder learns of this, he immediately cuts them down and eradicates them utterly.' The elder's residence is the dwelling of the pure assembly. The poisonous tree is a monk who has committed a grave offense. Growing and necessarily being cut down means that having committed an offense, he must be expelled. The sūtra has three analogies: first, neighbouring states attacking each other; second, a poisonous tree growing in a dwelling; third, white hair growing on one's head. Zhang'an's two explanations properly apply the latter meaning. First, he explains them in correspondence to the three delusions. Neighbouring states attacking each other is an analogy for eliminating the delusions of the four abodes through the mutual subduing of wisdom [and delusion]. Cutting down the poisonous tree is an analogy for eliminating the delusions like dust and sand, which are external to the essence. Plucking out and discarding the white hair is an analogy for eliminating the delusions of ignorance, which share the same essence. Next, he explains them in correspondence to expulsion. The neighbouring states are an analogy for rectifying those who dwell separately and study separately, yet whose conduct is improper; the poisonous tree is an analogy for rectifying those who dwell together and study separately, yet whose conduct is improper; the white hair is an analogy for rectifying those who dwell together and study together, yet whose conduct is improper. Although the text quotes only one, the intent encompasses all three: whether dwelling together or separately, whether practicing or preaching, all must be expelled. Furthermore, below, under 'Investigating his evil conduct...', it rebukes the master's own practice, in that his practice is biased and violates his mind. First, it challenges him with facts, challenging the bias of his practice. Below, under 'For example...', it illustrates how his biased practice defiles the pure assembly. Below, under 'Challenging his...', it challenges the violation of his mind. Below, under 'The reason why...', it clarifies the intention behind this discrimination, admonition, and encouragement. Entering evil appears easy, so it still requires warning and caution; how could one possibly further encourage practice therein? Below, under 'Like taking rhubarb decoction...', it illustrates the intent of warning and caution. Entering evil and claiming sickness is like taking rhubarb decoction; pointing to evil as the path is termed excess; one must equip oneself with the teachings of the Vinaya to mend and halt it. The questioner asks: Correct contemplation is like water, and the rational nature is like a jewel; various practices are like the wind—when wind is abundant, the waves surge; bodily actions and movement agitate and disturb, making the contemplation turbid; why must one employ these four samādhis? 'Gu' means to move or agitate. In the reply, there are two sets [of explanations], each having an analogy and an application. First, an analogy of a poor person rebukes his lack of completeness. Below, under 'If one...', is the application. If contemplating the mind in a single kind of samādhi were sufficient, yet if the mind delighted in walking and other postures, how could one gratify this desire? Below, under 'If one uses...', pertains to converting others. Since one's own practice is thus, converting others follows this standard. For one's own practice, the beginning and the end differ; for the capacities of others, they are not uniform. Below, under 'For example...', is a reiterated analogy. Granting provisionally that a single kind is effective for one's own practice, if one relies exclusively on one kind for converting others, it will fail. Below, under 'Afflictions...', is the application. First, in terms of a single person: if converting others, one should possess the four siddhāntas, which then constitute four turns of the four kinds of samādhi—how could there only be four? Next, in terms of multiple persons: first, generally in terms of the four samādhis; if for multiple persons, mutually considered, there must again be four times four. Below, under 'Furthermore, in terms of...', how could there only be four when mutually considering the four kinds of samādhis as above? Each single samādhi already contains the four siddhāntas, how much more so for the four? 'If one delights in walking...', etc.: below 'delights in walking' is the mundane [siddhānta]; below 'if good roots...' is the individual [siddhānta]; below 'if while sitting...' is the therapeutic [siddhānta]; below 'if while walking...' is the supreme truth [siddhānta]. First, in terms of constantly walking, sitting is borrowed as a contrast in the explanation. If not explained in contrast, one cannot merely say 'if one delights in walking, one walks; if not, one does not walk', for this would contrarily open the door to indolence, and how could this be called requiring all four kinds of samādhi? Hence it was initially stated that 'one kind possesses all four', and below it again concludes that 'the other three are likewise'. Since constant walking is thus, if one speaks of constant sitting, it should also be explained in contrast with walking and the like. Below, under 'Question: Good supports...', it discriminates capacities and obstacles to good, meaning the above three and the various sūtras and goods within 'following one's own mind'; this good accords with principle and allows the practice of calming and contemplation. As the Awakening of Faith says: 'Having known that the essence of dharma-nature is free from stinginess and greed, one accords with it to practice the dāna-pāramitā', and so forth. Since evil runs contrary to principle, why not abandon evil to cultivate within good, rather than having one cultivate calming and contemplation amidst evil? Answer: Because of the four propositions, one must contemplate evil. Fascicle 24 of the Dazhidulun says: 'The World-Honoured One, through the power of his wisdom, knows the superior, middling, and inferior capacities of sentient beings. A person whose faculties are sharp yet obstructed by fetters is like Aṅgulimāla. A person whose faculties are sharp and not obstructed by fetters is like Śāriputra. A person whose faculties are dull and not obstructed by fetters is like Panthaka. A person whose faculties are dull and obstructed by fetters refers to ordinary persons.' The treatise lodges this in the Hīnayāna, and hence cites these four; discussing generally across the four teachings, it should analogously apply to all. Moreover, the treatise generally clarifies that the Tathāgata skillfully knows all faculties, without taking sharp faculties free of obstruction as primary. Now, in clarifying practice, sharp faculties free of obstruction are distinctively taken as the superior rank. First, Śāriputra: upon hearing the three truths once, he attained the first fruit; seeing that [Dīrghanakha's] debate was defeated, he realized arhatship; at the Lotus assembly, he was the first to receive prophecy. Below, under 'Practitioners...', it cites the present as an analogy. By the present, one recognizes the past; citing the visible, one knows the future. Thus we know that the two practices of good and evil in the present text represent the difference between having obstacles and being free of obstacles; in order to shatter obstacles, both must be practiced. 'In the past there were not the two meanings' means that since in the past one had not practiced amidst good, one consequently lacked sharp faculties free of obstruction. In the next proposition, 'like King Ajātaśatru, Aṅgulimāla', and so forth: since the treatise lodges this in the small [vehicle], King Ajātaśatru was not present; now, in distinguishing those with obstacles, they are listed together. King Ajātaśatru committed heinous crimes, his offenses deeply and heavily entangling him; at the seat of the Lotus assembly, his obstacles had not yet manifested, so he heard this wondrous sūtra as one among the ordinary crowd. At the Nirvāṇa assembly, his capacity was stirred and his obstacles flared up; his mind generated burning remorse, and sores broke out over his entire body, with no skilled physician in the world capable of treating his body and mind. Although his six ministers cited the words of the six masters, it was uncertain whether they could cure his severe affliction. His elder brother Jīvaka led him to the Buddha's presence; receiving the Buddha's summons, he was ashamed and terrified; hearing the explanation of the illusory nature of the aggregates, he realized that offenses are unarisen, just as a sandalwood tree grows from an eraṇḍa tree. His obstacles eliminated and his capacity ripened, rootless faith was established; he aroused the aspiration for awakening and declared his vast vows. 'Rootless faith' is the stage of the first fruit in the Hīnayāna, and in the Mahāyāna it corresponds to the abodes of the distinctive [teaching] and faith in the perfect [teaching]. As for Aṅgulimāla: according to the Aṅgulimāla Sūtra, he attained the forbearance of the non-arising of dharmas; in the Āgamas, upon first hearing the Buddha's verse, he attained the first fruit, and after King Prasenajit departed, he attained arhatship. Although his obstacles were not like King Ajātaśatru's heinous crimes, he had already formed the expedients to harm the Buddha and his mother, and had also killed more than nine hundred and ninety people. Such heavy obstacles did not impede his realization of the Dharma, truly because his faculties were sharp that it was so. 'Whip' means to spur forward. Below, under 'Practitioners of the present time...', it cites the present as an analogy, directly answering the previous question regarding contemplating amidst evil. One should carefully weigh and examine whether it is appropriate or not; if it happens that one should enter evil, but exclusively adheres to good, one fails; past seeds are difficult to know, so one must not act rashly. Next, the third proposition, 'like Panthaka': Fascicle 1 of the Dharmapada says: 'When the Buddha was in Śrāvastī, there was a monk named Panthaka who had newly gone forth, and his nature was obstinate and blocked. The Buddha ordered five hundred arhats to instruct him daily, and only after three years did he master a single verse.' The present text relies on the Āgamas and the Dazhidulun, hence it says 'ninety days'. The Buddha, knowing this, felt pity; he called him before him and bestowed a verse upon him. The verse said: 'Guard your mouth, restrain your mind, let your body commit no offense; a practitioner such as this can cross over the world.' Panthaka felt deep gratitude toward the Buddha and was able to recite it smoothly. The Buddha said to Panthaka: 'You are now advanced in years, yet recite only a single verse. Everyone knows it; it is nothing extraordinary; you must understand its meaning. That is: the three of the body, the four of the mouth, the three of the mind—contemplate where they arise and examine where they cease; through them one is born in heaven, through them one falls into the abyss, and through them one attains the path and naturally enters nirvāṇa.' Analyzing up to immeasurable wondrous teachings, his mind opened and his thoughts were unlocked, and he attained arhatship. Because he was free of obstacles, although his faculties were dull, he easily attained the fruit of the path. Having attained the fruit of the path, five hundred bhikṣuṇīs requested instruction and teaching of the Dharma; it was Panthaka's turn; when he arrived there and finished eating, all the nuns laughed. Ascending the high seat, he felt ashamed of his own lowliness and said: 'By good fortune of meager virtue, I have become a śramaṇa, being the most obstinate and dull. Having learned a single verse, I roughly understand its meaning, and shall expound it for you.' The young nuns already knew this verse and wished to recite it beforehand, but their mouths could not open; terrified, they repented their faults. Thereupon, Panthaka expounded it in sequence according to what the Buddha had taught, and all the nuns attained the fruit of arhatship. Later, King Prasenajit invited the Buddha and the monks to sit in the main palace hall; the Buddha, wishing to test his supernatural power, ordered him to fetch the alms-bowl. Arriving at the palace gate, the gatekeeper would not allow him forward; from outside the gate, he extended his arm to deliver the bowl. The king, astonished, asked the Buddha: 'Whose hand is this?' The Buddha said: 'Panthaka's.' The king asked: 'He recited only a single verse; how could he achieve such a thing?' The Buddha said: 'Though one recites a thousand passages, of what benefit are they without their meaning? It is not as good as a single essential point which, when heard, can extinguish mental afflictions. Though one recites a thousand passages, of what benefit are they without their meaning? It is not as good as a single essential point which, when heard and practiced, brings deliverance. Though one recites a thousand passages, of what benefit are they without understanding? Understanding a single phrase of the Dharma, one can attain the path upon hearing it.' Two hundred monks heard this and attained arhatship, and only then did the king and his queen dispel their doubts. This verse was spoken for the extremely dull; how could it be equated with 'Much learning increases wisdom; broadly reading various diverse treatises allows one to know the mind of the wise', and so forth? Yet each has its intent; do not carelessly choose between them. As the Ekottarika-āgama, fascicle 6, states: 'The elder brother saw the younger brother reciting the Dharmapada, and rebuked him, saying: "If you cannot recite the verses of the Dharmapada, return to being a layperson." Hearing this, the younger brother went to the gate of Jetavana and wept. The Buddha saw him, asked him, and he fully related his brother's words. The Buddha said: "Can attaining bodhi depend on your brother?" The Buddha took him by the hand to a quiet room and had him recite "broom", also called "removing defilement". Panthaka contemplated: dust, dirt, tiles, and stones, when removed, leave purity; fetters are defilement, and wisdom is removal; now with the broom of wisdom, I sweep away all defilements.' The verse cited in the present text is from the Dazhidulun and fascicle 24 of the Great [Nirvāṇa] Sūtra. The sūtra says: 'Four matters are the causes of nirvāṇa. If one says that diligently practicing austerities is the cause of nirvāṇa, that is impossible.' Therefore, Panthaka reflected upon a single verse and attained the fourth fruit. The term 'kumāra' is translated here as 'pure youth' (tongzhen), also called 'hairy youth' (haotong), or 'named youth' (mingtong); that is, the verse of unpolluted pure youth. With the three karmic activities unpolluted, one attains the unpolluted fruit. In terms of attaining the fruit, in the past he had not entirely neglected the practice of contemplation; because his contemplative power was weak, his faculties remained dull; because he was free of obstacles, he easily attained the path upon hearing [the teaching]. As for the fourth proposition, it is evident.