宗鏡錄 32.9

32.9

Answer: When one wonderfully penetrates distinct categories, then dharma by dharma shares the same purport; when one skillfully comprehends different paths, then thing by thing is entirely such. What is called a revealing cause means that the virtues of the nature become manifest in the true mind; hence it is called a revealing cause. A productive cause also means being able to produce the six pāramitās and myriad practices within the mind of faith; hence it is called a productive cause. Both productive and revealing are of the mind; principle and practice are not external. If one does not understand this, grasping and rejecting take myriad forms; once one enters this source, naturally there is neither higher nor lower. Existence in the three realms is the function of bodhi; root and branch pervade each other, and emptiness and existence interpenetrate. How could it be identical to blank nothingness or inert existence? As the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa says: 'There are two kinds of emptiness: first, wholesome emptiness, where one ardently cultivates all practices yet realizes that their nature is empty; second, unwholesome emptiness, where one indulges in unwholesome dharmas and wishes to dismiss them as empty.' Now we discuss unobtainable emptiness: this emptiness is not separate from dharmas, and dharmas are not separate from this emptiness. One should know that all dharmas tend toward emptiness: just as the space where a vase is located is not different from the space of the realms of the ten directions, so all space in the ten directions tends toward the space of the vase. The Huayan lun says: 'If one only cultivates emptiness without ideating the dharmakāya, then one cannot generate functions from wisdom; if one exclusively generates ideation and does not see the signless dharmakāya, then it is purely conditioned.' It also says: 'Such great compassion, such wisdom, and such myriad practices are all to nourish the wisdom and great compassion of first entering the household of the Buddha at the dwelling of initial resolve, making one accustomed to mastery; time does not change, dharmas do not differ, and wisdom does not alter. It is like bamboo and reeds growing according to their old pattern: between the initial emergence and the end, there is no coarseness or fineness. It is also like a child just born who later grows to be an adult: there is no difference in being an adult.' Thus we know that the diverse gates of practice all enter into ultimate emptiness, without differentiation.