大慧普覺禪師語錄 6.36

6.36

The Master's taboo name was Zonggao; he was a native of Ningguo in Xuanzhou, surnamed Xi. At seventeen he became a monk. Not wishing to remain in his native district, he followed masters of the sūtras and treatises, and then set out wandering in all four directions. At first he associated with various senior masters of the Caodong lineage; having grasped their teachings, he sighed and said: 'Is this truly the intention of the buddhas and patriarchs?' Leaving them, he went to visit Zhantang Wenzhun. Zhantang recognized the Master's caliber at a glance, and after some time told him: 'Your discussions and expositions are entirely fluent and unimpeded, yet they are not quite sufficient to withstand birth and death. I am now gravely ill; in the future, if you see Chuanqin, he will surely be able to settle your affair.' 'Qin' was Master Yuanwu. When Zhantang died, the Master visited Grand Councilor Lord Zhang Wujin to request a stūpa epitaph for Zhantang. Lord Wujin's threshold was the highest under heaven, and he rarely granted audiences to scholars; yet at a single word with the Master, they bonded in accord. He immediately had a bed brought down [to host him], conversing with him morning and evening. He named his hermitage Miaoxi ('Wondrous Joy') and gave him the courtesy name Tanrui. Moreover, he said to him: 'You must see Master Yuanwu; I shall assist your journey.' Thereupon he sent luggage and supplies for him to travel to the capital, where he met Qin at Tianning. One day Qin ascended the hall; the Master had an unobstructed spiritual awakening and reported it to Qin. Qin said: 'Not yet. Although you have attained something, the Great Dharma is not yet clear to you.' Another day, Qin brought up Venerable Wuzu Fayan's words on 'being and non-being,' and right then at his words the Master attained the dharma of great ease and peace. Qin clapped his hands and said: 'Now do you know that I did not deceive you!' From this point on, he operated freely and boldly, without any doubt in his mind. He expounded his teaching widely, like the grand eloquence of Su Qin and Zhang Yi, or the military strategy of Sunzi and Wuzi, like pouring water from a roof tile or rolling a round boulder down a thousand-fathom cliff. The senior masters tucked in their lapels [in reverence], none able to withstand his edge. At that time, worthy gentlemen and high officials often vied to associate with him. He was especially esteemed by Vice Director of the Right Lord Lü Shuntu, who petitioned to bestow upon him the purple robe and the title Great Master Fori. When the Jurchen turmoil occurred, their chieftain wished to capture ten Chan monks, and the Master was among those chosen; subsequently, however, he was spared, seemingly as though assisted by unseen forces. Crossing the river southward, Yuanwu was just then presiding over the assembly at Yunju and ordered the Master to take the first seat to deliver the Way to the assembly; his renown flourished. Later he took his leave, went into Mount Yunju, and dwelt at Old Yunmen, where students gathered like clouds. Again fleeing the unrest, he escaped to Hunan, crossed Jiangyou, and entered Fujian, building a hermitage at Yangyu in Changle. At that time only fifty-three people followed him; in less than fifty days, thirteen attained the dharma—something unprecedented prior to this. Later they all stood out independently. He first responded to the invitation of Supervising Secretary Lord Jiang Shaoming to reside at the Yunmen Hermitage on Xiaoxi. When I, Zhang Jun, was in Shu, Qin had personally entrusted the Master to me, saying that he had truly attained the marrow of the Dharma. When I went to court, I consequently invited him to Jingshan in Lin'an. The flourish of the Dharma was foremost in that era: people travelled a hundred stages with calloused feet to rush there, fearing only to arrive late; they bowed at his gate, fearing only not to see him. It came to the point where there was no space to accommodate them, so a great pavilion for a thousand monks was opened to house them; in all, there were over two thousand. Those with whom he associated were all outstanding talents and famous ministers of the time, such as Vice Minister Lord Zhang Zishao, who was an intimate friend; and in the end, it was because of this that the Master met with misfortune. Those in power, fearing that he was criticizing them, disliked him. Stripped of his monastic robes and his ordination certificate burned, he was banished to Hengzhou, living in seclusion for ten years. He was then moved to Meizhou. Meizhou was a desolate land of miasmic pests, yet his disciples packed provisions and followed him, with no regrets even unto death. Ah, could this be so were it not that their hearts were truly conquered? After another five years, the Retired Emperor granted a special pardon to allow him to return; the following year his monk's robes were restored. Empty seats from all directions invited him, but generally he declined to take them. Finally, by imperial order, he resided at King Aśoka Monastery. The crowd gathered was vast, and food occasionally ran short; embankments and fields were constructed covering several thousand qing, and an imperial edict bestowed the name Prajñā upon the estate. After another two years, he moved back to Jingshan. When the Master resided on this mountain a second time, both clergy and laity admired and longed for him, as if seeing their own kin; though elderly, he never tired in the least of guiding later generations. He lived in Mingyue Hall for one year in total, until his end. About to manifest his passing, he personally wrote his final memorial, sent word bidding farewell to Right Minister Lord Tang, and also sent a letter to me, Zhang Jun. Liaoxian requested a verse, and the Master again took up the brush and wrote in large characters without the slightest disorder. Although the Master was a man beyond the mundane world, his devotion to sovereign and parents was earnest. Whenever matters of the times were touched upon, his love for his sovereign and anxiety for the times were evident in his expressions and tone; his discourses were extremely precise and correct. Later, coming from Jingshan to Moling, he saw me with tears falling and said: 'My late father unfortunately had no other heirs; my family is poor, so on what can they rely? I pray to receive an attendant-monk certificate; with your prestige, perhaps someone would be willing to accept it.' Moved to sorrow and sighing, I submitted a memorial that his clan younger brother Daoyuan attend to the ancestral sacrifices of the Master's parents. After he retired to Mingyue Hall, through the sweltering heat he ran to his native village, visited the tombs and repaired them; such was his devotion. Had he been one of our Confucians, would he not have been a celebrated scholar? And his study of Buddhism likewise stood out independently in the contemporary world; was he not an extraordinary hero? In the end he received honor and imperial favor, commemorated without end; truly he brought this about by himself. The imperial writings bestowed upon him were housed in a pavilion built at Miaoxi Hermitage, enduring together with this mountain.