大慧普覺禪師語錄 13

English (machine translation) 13

Language: English

13.3 — 3 parts

13.1

Submitted by your subject Yunwen, Dharma-heir Abbot of Nengren Chan Monastery on Mount Jing, Chan Master Huiri.

The Master arrived at Xuefeng just as the Bodhi Assembly was being convened. Being requested to give a general sermon, after questions had concluded, he then said: "A veteran general of Bodhi sits amidst heavy encirclement; outside the kalpas, one constantly hears the neigh of the wooden horse. Without unsheathing an inch of blade, the marrow of Māra's heart is shattered; gazing upon the wind, already they have hoisted the white flag of surrender. Here in the Dharma cavern of Xuefeng, in the arena of Zhenxie, every person cherishes the intention to repay the Buddha and the Patriarchs, and each holds the strategy to pacify the state and secure the household. Their wisdom is like Śāriputra's, their eloquence like Pūrṇa's; for Yunmen to arrive here today, his only share can be to tie his tongue. Yet, though an official [post] does not admit a needle, private matters allow carts and horses. Having arrived here, it must not be in vain; borrowing a bit of the host's awe-inspiring radiance, I shall join the assembly for this occasion." He then picked up his staff and said: "Do you still understand thoroughly? The sky is high, and the celestial images are correct; the ocean is vast, and the hundred streams pay homage." Striking once, he said again: "Generally speaking, students of the Way must meet someone of the true capacity before they can succeed; if they do not meet someone of the true capacity, they are merely fellows snatching at emptiness. Just take the elder monk who earlier asked about Bajiao's staff: when answered from the true capacity, he was unable to grasp it. Nowadays, how many mistaken deliberations there are in various regions! When a student's eye is not clear and he steps forward to pose a question, the blind fellow on the meditation couch responds with rhyming clichés, saying: 'Guiding [him] across the waters of the broken bridge, accompanying [him] back to the village of the bright moon.' One phrase comes, another phrase goes, and he claims, 'I answered profoundly, I answered wondrously!' The student, unable to distinguish good from bad, stuffs it into his leather bag and carries it around to match with everything. If it happens to match, he turns around to give certification to the ancestral teachers; if it does not match, he harbors these unrefined and impure notions in his bosom, scorning good people and creating hellish karma. Look at how Zhenxie expounds Chan: he does not calculate at all. Depending on what the student asks, he speaks freely without hindrance, naturally like the wind blowing across water. It is simply because he speaks from actual seeing: just as Samantabhadra Bodhisattva arose from the Samādhi of the Ornamentation of the Buddha's Flowers, and Samantabhadra Bodhisattva poured out two thousand answers like water from a jar when Bodhisattva Puhui raised two hundred questions like rising clouds—when did he ever calculate or reflect? It is because he attained the Dharma with ease and spoke in accordance with the Dharma-nature. People nowadays have not personally witnessed or personally awakened; they do nothing but calculate in a hundred ways. When they are to ascend the seat tomorrow, they cannot sleep the whole night: remembering two lines from this notebook and two lines from that notebook, piecing and stitching them together to speak a patch of fine-sounding words like flowers and brocade. When seen through by a clear-eyed person from a quiet spot, it only becomes an object of ridicule. I earnestly urge you all: a clear-eyed ancestral teacher is hard to meet, hard to encounter. Having encountered one, it is just like leaning against Mount Sumeru. You must simply take a step back, let go of all this self-and-other and fundamental ignorance, cast aside everything memorized and learned from previous notebooks, and do not forcibly act as the master. In future days when old King Yama flogs the ghost-bones' buttocks, it will be precisely these ones who forcibly acted as master that he flogs. It is not that Yunmen is deceiving you all; these words have their proper transmission. Right before you are arrayed one thousand five hundred good friends as your witnesses; if I do not speak of it here, where else should I speak of it? Therefore, this matter definitely does not lie in words and phrases. If it lay in words and phrases, the entire great canon of teachings and the hundred schools of philosophers fill heaven and earth—how could they be without words? What need would there be for Bodhidharma to come from the West and point directly? In the final analysis, what place is the place of direct pointing? The moment you intend to think, it is already crooked. As when a monk asked Zhaozhou, 'What is the meaning of the Patriarch's coming from the West?' Zhaozhou said, 'The cypress tree in the courtyard.' This is exceedingly direct. Again, a monk asked Dongshan, 'What is the Buddha?' Dongshan said, 'Three pounds of hemp.' Again, a monk asked Yunmen, 'What is the Buddha?' Yunmen said, 'A dry shit-stick.' This is exceedingly direct. If you intend to use your mind to match it, it turns all the more crooked. The Dharma is originally without crookedness; it is only because students learn with a crooked mind that, even if they learn what is profound beyond the profound and wondrous beyond the wondrous, in the end they cannot withstand birth and death, becoming merely the sort who mimic phrases. Originally an unconcerned person, one is instead hindered and obstructed by these vicious poisons in the mind-consciousness, unable to attain ease. Therefore the teaching says: 'The Dharma cannot be seen, heard, sensed, or known; if one practices seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing, that is just seeing, hearing, sensing, and knowing, not seeking the Dharma.' It is like someone asking, 'Which way goes to the city?' and one points and says, 'Go from here.' If hearing this one immediately walks on, it is already crooked! How can this be learned with a mind of understanding through intellectual views, calculating gain and loss, the profound and the wondrous, right and wrong? If you truly want to practice, simply let go of everything, just like a person who has died the great death, knowing nothing and understanding nothing. Suddenly, toward that place of not knowing and not understanding, if you shatter this single thought, even the Buddha can do nothing to you. Do you not see what the ancients said: 'Letting go on the edge of the cliff, personally consenting to take it upon oneself; reviving after complete extinction, no one can deceive you.' Since you all have come to Xuefeng to practice Chan, you must never take it lightly. This is a clear-eyed ancestral teacher whom you can rely upon and who is worthy to be a standard for the Dharma. Some, seeing Zhenxie encourage people to bring forth the bodhi-mind, give rise to slander and discussion, saying: 'Since he is called a Chan master, he naturally has the intrinsic matter of the ancestral school; why does he constantly bustle about, resembling an ordinary lecturer?' Let me ask you: 'What is the intrinsic matter?' How lamentable! Being unable to practice good oneself, one turns around and mocks others for practicing good. With this kind of self-and-other, arising-and-ceasing, and jealousy uneliminated, while regarding oneself as right—if a good friend does not encourage people to bring forth the bodhi-mind, should he teach people to kill and set fires? This curved wooden chair is not a place for you to seek fame and profit or engage in the arising and ceasing of jealousy. Viewed with the eye of the Way, it is like a boiling cauldron, furnace coals, a forest of swords, and a mountain of blades. When the Dharma drum is struck, all the devas, dragons, and spirits assemble together; if the eye of the Way is not clear, when the devas, dragons, and spirits see black smoke spewing from your mouth, how could they not be terrified? Do you not see what the teaching says: 'Claiming to have attained what one has not attained is overweening pride; one who slanders the Great Prajñā cannot be granted repentance.' For example, a poor person falsely calling himself an emperor brings upon himself execution and destruction; how much more so for the Dharma King—how could one falsely usurp it? If the causal ground is not true, the fruition will invite crookedness; one must be genuine to succeed. One who is called a good friend guides all sentient beings to make them see their buddha-nature; one must observe the faculties and set forth the teaching, granting medicine in accordance with the illness. One cannot say to people of a three-house hamlet: 'The staff arrives in the Western Heavens in the morning and returns to the Eastern Land at dusk; the fan leaps up to the Heaven of the Thirty-Three and bumps the nostrils of Śakra; a single blow strikes the carp of the Eastern Sea, and the rain pours down like an overturned basin.' Although this is talk of the intrinsic matter, how can you expect them to understand it? Even you Chan monks cannot find a crack in this old fellow; how much less can those laypeople living in the net of dust with manifesting ignorance? If there are no skillful means to guide and bring them to maturity, how could they immediately understand? Those in this assembly have all cast aside their homes and traveled from ten or twenty stages away; if one person enters the association and turns his mind toward the north, when many people do good, how could there be no benefit? This is what a good friend ought to do as his intrinsic duty; how could it be forced action? This summer, I, Yunmen, opened a lampwick and Chinese honeylocust shop at Guangyin, speaking a bit of coarse Chan according to the household's wealth or poverty. In my quarters, when I asked a student a single phrase, if without thinking or calculating he could speak a phrase naturally and artlessly, I would give him another press; if he hesitated, a blow across the back, with no other subtlety. If by chance one or two were sent off, I had them come up to Xuefeng to approach the great forge, the matter being of one and the same family. Earlier, Zhenxie brought up: 'The World-Honoured One entered the great city of Śrāvastī to beg for food. Having eaten his meal, he put away his robes and bowl, washed his feet, and sat down on the prepared seat. Subhūti stepped forward from the assembly, bowed, and said, "How rare, World-Honoured One!"' Zhenxie said, 'Old Śākya was originally pitifully fine, but when Subhūti came forth and said "How rare," at that moment it melted like ice and shattered like tiles.' Good assembly! Old Śākya had not yet spoken a single word; what did Subhūti see that he immediately said 'How rare'? Do you all want to understand? Just look toward the place where Zhenxie speaks of melting like ice and shattering like tiles; if you suddenly see through it, the lifelong matter of practicing and studying will be completed. As for Zhenxie, seeing that students usually identify with the awareness right before their eyes, seeking views and searching for understanding without rest, he could not but teach people to take it upon themselves outside the kalpas. Speaking according to reality, this single phrase is already too much. This is a temporary expedient: like pointing at the moon to show someone, you must look at the moon and not identify with the finger. Nowadays people do not understand and think there really is such a thing. As the Patriarch said, they mistake it; when have they ever understood expedients? Since they do not recognize words of expedient means, they sit inside the belly of Dīpaṃkara Buddha, motionless inside the ghost cave under the black mountain, sitting until calluses grow on their buttocks, water drools from their mouths, and inside their bellies it remains as pitch-black as before—could they dream of it even in the year of the donkey? Tonight, before the assembly of humans and devas, I, Yunmen, accord with the words of all the sages; let each of you remember this well. Many words lead further away from the Way. Just earlier Zhenxie had an unfinished gong'an; Yunmen will conclude it for him. Anciently, an elderly venerable visited Linji. Just upon meeting, he lifted his sitting cloth and said, 'Is bowing correct, or is not bowing correct?' Linji shouted. The elder monk then bowed. Linji said, 'This thief!' The elder monk said, 'Thief, thief!' and left. Linji said, 'Do not say that nothing is the matter.' While the head monk was attending at his side, Linji said, 'Was there any fault or not?' The head monk said, 'There was.' Linji said, 'Did the guest have the fault, or did the host have the fault?' The head monk said, 'Both had the fault.' Linji said, 'Where was the fault?' The head monk then left. Linji said, 'Do not say that nothing is the matter.'" The Master said: "Linji lost a tally in the dark, but won a move in the light. Although there is losing and winning, light and dark, what can be done about the bystander seeing it as unsightly? Tell me, who is the bystander?" After a long pause, he said: "If you go to other places, do not quote this mistakenly."

13.3.1

Great Master Dingguang requested a general discourse. A monk asked: "If a single phenomenon exists, Vairocana falls among ordinary mortals; if the ten thousand phenomena are non-existent, Samantabhadra loses his realm. Setting aside these two paths, please speak quickly, Master!"
The master said, "A shell-molted tortoise flies up to heaven."
[The monk] proceeded, "I have already received your intimate indication; a single impartial phrase benefits sentient beings."
The master said, "What is the intimate point?"
[The monk] proceeded, "Last night a pure breeze arose in the eight directions; this morning flowing water swells the brook ahead."
The master said, "I almost let you pass without questioning."
He then said: "The Buddhas originally never appeared in the world, nor do they enter parinirvāṇa; by the power of their fundamentally autonomous great vows, they manifest boundless rare dharmas. This Dharma cannot be fathomed by reflection; it is not the realm where the mind travels. Since it is not where the mind travels, it is not a rare dharma; since it is not a rare dharma, this Dharma is neither real nor illusory. Since it is neither illusory nor real, calling it existent is impermissible, calling it non-existent is impermissible, calling it both existent and non-existent is impermissible, calling it neither existent nor non-existent is impermissible, and calling it not-not-existent and not-not-non-existent is also impermissible. Do you not see what the Chan guest just asked: 'If a single phenomenon exists, Vairocana falls among ordinary mortals; if the ten thousand phenomena are non-existent, Samantabhadra loses his realm. Setting aside these two paths, please speak quickly, Master'? Yunmen answered him, saying: 'A shell-molted tortoise flies up to heaven.' How do all of you discern this? Is it existent, or is it non-existent? Is it illusory, or is it real? Try to come forward and say. If not, I shall draw in some more entanglements.
"Therefore the ancient sage said: 'Sometimes illumination precedes function; sometimes function precedes illumination; sometimes illumination and function are simultaneous; sometimes illumination and function are not simultaneous. If illumination precedes function, one blinds everyone's eyes; if function precedes illumination, one opens everyone's eyes; if illumination and function are simultaneous, it is half-blinded and half-opened; if illumination and function are not simultaneous, it is fully opened and fully blinded.' Among these four statements, one has guest but no host, one has host but no guest, one has neither guest nor host, and one is fully endowed with both guest and host. Right now in the assembly, if there were a fellow who does not accept deception from others, he would come forward and say, 'What kind of place is this, to speak of existence and non-existence, to speak of illusory and real, to speak of illumination and function, to speak of guest and host?' He would seize me by the chest, drag me down from the meditation seat, and give me a sound thrashing; one could not blame him at all. Is there such a person? If not, the ladle's handle is in Yunmen's hands: letting go or holding fast, speaking of existence or non-existence, speaking of illusory or real, speaking of illumination or function, speaking of guest or host—it all depends on this place. Now tell me: is it better to let go right now, or to hold fast?"
After a pause, he said: "Opening people's eyes, blinding people's eyes; pushing with one hand, pulling with the other. It is not the three essentials and three mysteries, nor is it the four types of evaluations. Ultimately, what is it?"
Holding up his fly-whisk, he said, "Xuefeng rolls a ball; Muzhou carries a plank."
He added: "You all say, 'I came here to practice Chan.' Let me ask you: how do you practice Chan? Since impermanence is swift and birth and death is a great matter, with one's own affair not yet clear, one seeks a master for resolution; wishing to clarify oneself and attain peace of mind is no child's play. Yet nowadays everyone says, 'I fear death, so I practice Chan.' Practicing on and on, as the days and months deepen, they tumble into a nest of entanglements, winning only a glib tongue and adding a bit of messiness to their own lot; on the contrary, it is not as good as when they had not yet joined the community, when they were free of so many affairs. This is entirely due to an initial mistake, not encountering a good person, each following the other's habits until it has come to this. In recent times the Buddhadharma is lamentable: demons are strong and the Dharma is weak. Chan monks each have a belly full of Chan, everywhere resembling children competing in picking grasses—in the year of the donkey will they ever rest?
"I often say to you all: 'When the Patriarch came from the West, he merely acted as someone who provided certification; he had no Chan or Way to transmit to others. If there were Chan or the Way to transmit, each would have transmitted it to their parents, and transmitted it to their relatives and kin.' Since there is nothing to transmit, the person himself must attain awakening on his own. If you set your mind to seek awakening, you are already wrong. How much more so with extensive knowledge and excessive understanding, indulging in wanton fabrication? Have you not seen Master Xiangyan when he was in Baizhang's assembly? He was utterly intelligent and sharp, yet for several years he could not attain Chan, solely because of extensive knowledge and excessive understanding. After Baizhang passed away, he went to Guishan. Guishan said: 'I hear that when you were with my late master Baizhang, when asked one thing you answered ten, and when asked ten you answered a hundred. This is your intelligence and sharpness, mental conceptualization and conscious discrimination—the root of birth and death. Try to say a phrase about before your parents gave birth to you.' Questioned by Guishan, Xiangyan was utterly confounded. He returned to his quarters, examined from the beginning all the texts he had read throughout his life, and sought to find a single phrase that could serve as a reply, but in his mind he could not find one. He then sighed to himself, 'A painted cake cannot satisfy hunger.' Repeatedly he went up to the abbot's quarters, begging Guishan to explain it to him. Guishan said: 'If I explained it to you, later on you would curse me. What I say belongs to me; in the end it has nothing to do with you.'
"Xiangyan had no recourse, his mind continuously vexed, and he also blamed Guishan for not explaining it to him. He then took the texts he had collected throughout his life and burned them with fire, saying: 'Enough, enough! In this life I will not study the Buddhadharma; I will simply be a long-wandering gruel-and-rice monk, avoiding toiling my mind and spirit.' From then on he let go of everything all at once: he did not reflect on Chan, nor did he reflect on the Way; he did not reflect on good, nor did he reflect on evil; he did not reflect on before his parents gave birth to him, nor did he reflect on right now. His four edges touching the ground, he let go of everything, and then took leave of Guishan.
"He went straight to Nanyang to view the traces of National Teacher Zhong, and thereupon rested and set up a hermitage. One day while weeding out grasses and trees, as he threw away a piece of tile and rubble, it suddenly struck a stalk of bamboo with a crack; unconsciously, the nostrils from before his parents gave birth to him were hit. At that moment, like the sick finding a physician, like one in darkness finding a lamp, like the poor finding a treasure, like a child finding its mother, his joy was boundless. He then bathed, burned incense, bowed from afar toward Guishan, and sighed, saying: 'The Venerable Master's great compassion exceeds that of parents. If he had explained it to me back then, how could there be today's event?' He then had a verse, saying: 'At a single strike, what was known is forgotten.' You see, for one who has attained, the words he utters are naturally distinct."

13.3.2

At first, upon hearing the striking of the bamboo make a sound, he suddenly had a great awakening, and within the awakened mind news was completely cut off. It was just like Maitreya snapping his fingers and the tower's gates swinging open, bidding Sudhana to enter; Sudhana's mind rejoiced, and having entered, they closed again—it is precisely this principle. Once news was cut off at the place of Xiangyan's awakening, the matter before his parents were born abruptly appeared before him. As soon as he composed a verse, there was already an expedient means for helping others; the commentary noted below: 'No longer relying on cultivation or practice, / In every movement upholding the ancient way, / Not falling into silent mechanisms, / Everywhere leaving no traces. / Comportment beyond sound and form— / Those of reached realization throughout the directions / All call it the supreme capacity.' One often sees Chan fellows who love to go everywhere asking the elders questions; where the elders have nowhere to put their mouths, they then explain it for them—as if afraid Xiangyan had not spoken clearly enough, they must add further commentary. There is also another sort of person who says, 'Because of striking an object and making a sound, there is an awakening.' If someone asks him, 'Just try to speak of it,' he then strikes an object to make a sound, saying, 'How utterly distinct! What connection is there?' This is greatly like trying to scratch an itch by pounding one's boot with a fist—how could one ever find joy in that? Furthermore, do you not see: in former days, when Reverend Juzhi was residing in a hermitage, a certain nun wearing a conical bamboo hat came directly around his meditation cord-seat once, saying, 'If you can speak, I will take off my bamboo hat.' Juzhi could not speak at that moment. The nun flicked her sleeves and walked away. Juzhi said, 'Why not stay a while?' The nun said, 'If you can speak, I will stay.' Juzhi was speechless again. After the nun left, Juzhi sighed to himself: 'Though I am a fellow with a manly body, I am still not equal to a woman.' He then wanted to burn the hermitage and go down the mountain. Suddenly, that night, he dreamed of a spirit who said, 'The Reverend need not go down the mountain; just wait, for an embodied Mahāsattva will come to expound the Dharma for the Reverend.' After a few days, Reverend Tianlong indeed arrived. Juzhi thereupon related the previous incident to him. Tianlong said, 'Ask me, and I will speak for you.' Juzhi said, 'If you can speak, I will take off my bamboo hat.' Tianlong then raised one finger; Juzhi suddenly had a great awakening. Later, whenever he was asked a question, he only raised one finger, often saying, 'I attained Tianlong's one-finger Chan, and have not exhausted its use in an entire lifetime.' Reverend Langye Jiao once composed a verse: 'Juzhi's one finger makes it known to you: / The fledgling hawk born in the morning soars to clutch the sky. / Without the strength to lift a tripod cauldron and uproot mountains, / The thousand-mile black steed cannot easily be ridden.' Look at this verse: it precisely understands this one-finger Chan with clarity. How could this be learned? At Juzhi's side was an attendant boy who, whenever he saw someone ask about matters, also learned to raise a finger in response. Someone said to Juzhi, 'The Reverend's boy is also extraordinary; he too understands the Buddha Dharma. Whenever someone asks him, he raises a finger just like the Reverend.' Juzhi heard of this, and one day secretly placed a knife in his sleeve, called the boy near, and said, 'I hear that you also understand the Buddha Dharma; is that so?' The boy said, 'It is.' Juzhi said, 'What is the Buddha?' The boy immediately raised his finger; Juzhi seized him and severed it with the knife. The boy cried out and ran out; Juzhi then called after the boy. The boy turned his head, and Juzhi said, 'What is the Buddha?' The boy unwittingly raised his hand, saw no finger, and suddenly had a great awakening. Remarkable! Indeed one knows that the Buddha Dharma cannot be transmitted and cannot be learned: Juzhi's realization was not on the finger, and Xiangyan's awakening was not beside the striking of the bamboo. Tell me: where is it? I have spoken it all at once; do you still understand? This matter is neither difficult nor easy: miss it by a hair's breadth and you are off by a thousand miles. I advise all of you to take a step back and examine yourselves; everything is fully present as it is—just take responsibility for it directly, without wasting effort. If you intend to stir even a single hair, you will immediately be thousands and tens of thousands of miles away, completely disconnected. Since all of you are here, you must give rise to a sense of shame; you cannot let time pass lightly. If you do not preserve sincerity, with what in prajñā will you consume the offerings of the faithful? Do you not see what Chan Master Fenyang Wuye said: 'Look at the ancient virtuous persons of the Way: after attaining their intent, in thatched huts and stone chambers, they cooked rice in broken-legged pots and ate, passing twenty or thirty years. Fame and gain did not disturb their minds, wealth and treasures were not in their thoughts; deeply forgetting the human world, they concealed their traces among cliffs and groves, not coming when summoned by rulers, nor attending when invited by feudal lords. How could they be like us, who covet fame and crave profit, drowning in worldly paths, like petty merchants harboring modest wishes and forgetting the great fruit?' Indeed! Brothers, in those days there was already such talk; if they were made to see where we act nowadays, it would truly shame one to death. Brothers! Time is to be cherished; time waits for no one. Let each of you summon your spirits and break completely through, so that you do not receive the shelter of the Buddha in vain, nor betray your lifelong aspiration to study the Way. Recently, Senior Monk Dao came from Xuefeng, repeatedly requesting to enter the abbot's room, saying: 'Solely because impermanence is swift and the matter of birth and death is great, while my own affair is not yet clear, I beg for instruction.' Thereupon I cited Mazu's 'It is not mind, it is not Buddha, it is not a thing' to instruct him to contemplate it, and further annotated it once for him: you must not understand it as a principle; you must not understand it as having nothing to do; you must not understand it as a flint-spark or lightning-flash; you must not calculate under the root of discursive intellect; you must not take responsibility at the point where it is raised. It is not mind, it is not Buddha, it is not a thing—what should it be? He was then beset by doubt and dared not open his mouth again. Today, however, he came to burn incense and bow, saying: 'Miaodao's study of prajñā is beset by many demonic hindrances; I wish to request that this evening, before the assembly of humans and devas, you promote and expound prajñā so that I may rely on it for repentance, wishing that all sentient beings in the dharmadhātu may abruptly awaken to the profound prajñā and together repay the Buddha's benevolence.' Yunmen said: 'The ancient sages had a saying: "A fearful mind is hard to generate, and a wholesome mind is hard to arouse; to deliver others before delivering oneself is the Bodhisattva's initial aspiration. To know fear of transgressions and turn one's mind toward the Way is likewise rare."' Thereupon I complied with his request and made repentance on his behalf. Now tell me, since the nature of transgression is neither within, nor without, nor in between, with what do you repent? Yet there is no sage who has transgressions, nor is there any ordinary mortal who is free of transgressions. When ordinary mortals commit transgressions, they all arise from the deluded mind, having no true substance whatsoever. Even though they have no true substance, when receiving retribution, one must also undergo it in delusion, following like a shadow follows a form, impossible to escape.

13.3.3

Although retributions are experienced delusively, they also have no real substantial entity. Therefore it is said: 'If the nature of sin had a substantial entity, the entire realm of empty space would not be able to contain it.' Why so? Because ordinary mortals who commit sins are numerous. Now Senior Monk Dao arouses a single thought of the mind, desiring to attain directly the unexcelled buddha-fruit of bodhi. Once this mind is aroused, the sins one has committed are like dried grass piled high as Mount Sumeru, and the mind aroused is like a fire the size of a mustard seed—it can burn them completely away without anything remaining. Can you still believe in this fully? Once this single thought of the mind is aroused, buddhahood is accomplished right then and there, and throughout the bounds of the future it will never regress and be lost. What serves as proof? Have you not seen in the teachings that Śakra, Lord of the Gods, addressed Bodhisattva Dharmamati, saying: 'Son of the Buddha! When a bodhisattva first arouses the mind of bodhi, how great is the measure of merit attained?' Bodhisattva Dharmamati said: 'This meaning is extremely profound, difficult to speak of, difficult to know, difficult to distinguish, difficult to believe and understand, difficult to realize, difficult to practice, difficult to comprehend, difficult to think about, difficult to measure, and difficult to enter into. Nevertheless, relying on the supernatural power of the Buddha, I shall speak of it for you. Suppose someone, with all instruments of pleasure, were to make offerings to all sentient beings in asaṃkhyeya worlds of the eastern direction throughout an entire kalpa, and afterward teach them to fully uphold the five precepts; and likewise in the south, west, north, four intermediate directions, above, and below. What do you think? Would this person's merit be much?' Śakra, Lord of the Gods, said: 'This person's merit only a buddha could know; of all others, none can measure it.' Dharmamati said: 'Compared with the merit of a bodhisattva's initial arousing of the mind, this person's merit does not equal one hundredth part, nor one thousandth part, nor one hundred-thousandth part, and so on up to a hundred-millionth part, a ten-billionth part, a trillionth part, a hundred-trillionth part, and even an asaṃkhyeya part, an incalculable, immeasurable, boundless, ineffable part, an ineffably ineffable part—it does not equal even one part.' Then, progressively adducing the differences in sentient beings' capacities at the limits of desires and pleasures—from ten to a hundred, from a hundred to a thousand, from a thousand to ten thousand, from ten thousand to a hundred million, from a hundred million to ineffably ineffable asaṃkhyeya numbers of sentient beings—causing them all to uphold the five precepts and ten wholesome deeds; and furthermore, up to a second person who doubles the number of the previous person, multiplying progressively up to a hundred people, each person doubling the number of the previous person, causing them all to realize the fruits of srotāpanna, sakṛdāgāmin, anāgāmin, arhat, and pratyekabuddha; yet the merit attained, compared with the merit of a bodhisattva's initial arousing of the mind, does not equal one hundredth part, and so on, even ineffable reckoning, numbers, and metaphors cannot reach it; exhausting all metaphors, there is no basis for comparison. Why so? Because this single thought of the mind is equal to the buddhas of the three times, without difference, without distinction. In Sanskrit, kṣamā is here called 'repenting of faults', meaning severing the continuing mind: once repented, it is never committed again. Once this mind is aroused, it is never regressed and lost. If one can directly go into no-mind, the merit of first arousing the mind, compared with the merit of no-mind, does not equal one hundredth part, one thousandth part, one hundred-thousandth part, one hundred-thousand-millionth part, and so on, even reckoning, numbers, metaphors, and ineffably ineffable asaṃkhyeya parts do not equal one part. Why so? Because when the mind is first aroused, it is equal to the buddhas of the three times. When even this mind does not exist, where can the buddhas of the three times grope for it? Therefore the merit of a single thought of no-mind again has no basis for comparison. If so, then there is also no birth and no death, no sage and no ordinary mortal, no person and no self, no buddha and no dharma. If one can see it like this, this is true repentance. Since Senior Monk Dao possesses the fortitude of a great man and is determined to investigate Chan, just investigate like this! One must break open in awakening and directly enter no-mind; only then will one attain peace and ease. If one does not awaken, but merely mouths a few phrases of 'no, no' and further adduces places where the ancients spoke of 'nothingness', mistaking them as proofs and then saying, 'I have attained rest'—let me ask you: Have you actually rested yet? This is merely using the mind to be without mind. If you take the mind to make no-mind, the mind instead turns into existence; how could you rigidly force it into non-existence? The ancient sages reproved such as non-Buddhists who fall into empty voidness, dead people whose spirits have not dispersed, slandering great prajñā beyond repentance; although it is a wholesome cause, it brings about an evil fruition. Such views, even if you were to beat to death hundreds, thousands, or tens of thousands of them like rice, hemp, bamboo, and reeds, what sin would there be? People like this are sure to have a whole belly full of doubt remaining. Only if one is personally free of doubt does one have the skillful means to resolve doubts for others; if one personally has doubts, how could one eliminate doubts for others? Intending to eliminate another's doubt, one adds yet another layer of doubt to him—as it is said: 'My eyes were originally correct, but because of the master became distorted.' Do you people want to know the one who is personally without doubt and able to eliminate doubts for others? Formerly, when the World-Honoured One was preaching the Dharma at the assembly on Vulture Peak, there were five hundred monks who had attained the four dhyānas and possessed the five supernatural faculties, yet had not attained the tolerance of dharmas. Through the supernatural faculty of knowing past lives, each saw that in past lives they had killed their fathers, harmed their mothers, and committed various heavy sins; in their own minds they each harbored doubts, and could not enter into the realization of the profound Dharma. At that time, Mañjuśrī, knowing the assembly's doubt and fear, relied on the Buddha's supernatural power, grasped a sharp sword in his hand, and advanced pressing upon the Tathāgata. The World-Honoured One then said to Mañjuśrī: 'Stop, stop! You should not commit treason; do not harm me! If I must be harmed, let it be well harmed. Mañjuśrī! From the beginning, you have had no self and no person; it is merely that with the inner mind you see self and person existing. When the inner mind arises, I must be harmed; that is what is called harming.' Thereupon, the five hundred monks awakened on their own to their fundamental mind as like a dream, like an illusion, wherein within the dream and illusion there is no self and no person, nor even parents who can give birth or are born. Thereupon the five hundred monks with one voice spoke a verse praising Mañjuśrī: 'Mañjuśrī, great man of wisdom, / profoundly penetrates to the bottom of the Dharma source. / With his own hand he grasps a sharp sword / and advances pressing upon the Tathāgata's body. / As with the sword, so it is with the Buddha: / one characteristic without duality. / Without characteristics, without that which is produced— / how could there be killing within this?' Great assembly! Although Mañjuśrī resolved doubts for the assembly, it cost him no small effort. Today Yunmen resolves doubts for Senior Monk Dao, and does not even use a sharp sword; there is only this: it is not mind, it is not buddha, it is not a thing. If you cast off the doubtful sentiment right here, you will stride freely across the world. If not, listen to a footnote: A single blade severs the path of birth and death; / the true eye of Maheśvara opens on the crown of the head; / boundless karmic hindrances all melt away. / In the end, how is it? / Hanshan and Shide are on Tiantai." Striking the meditation bed once with his fly-whisk, he gave a shout and descended from the seat.

13.4

General Sermons of Chan Master Dahui Pujue, Fascicle Thirteen

Linked texts (1)

大慧普覺禪師語錄 — Classical Chinese