緇門警訓 5.24

5.24

The Dharma robes instituted by the Buddha are only three: first, the antarvāsa; second, the uttarāsaṅga; and third, the saṃghāṭī. These three Dharma robes are definitively the garments of those who have left home (pravrajyā), not to be worn by householders. The Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya states: 'The three robes are the insignia of the noble and sagely śramaṇas; they are not intended for layfolk.' The Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa states: 'Because the Buddha’s holy disciples abide in the Middle Way, they wear the three robes. The non-Buddhists go naked without shame, while the white-robed [laity] are laden with greed and wear heavy garments.' The Saṃyuktāgama states: 'Those who cultivate the four immeasurables shave their hair, wear the three Dharma robes, and leave home.' Based on this, we know they are definitively not lay garments. People of the world say that the Brahmajāla Sūtra permits the laity to wear them. Seeing that this sūtra widely lists kings, ministers, clerics, and layfolk as all eligible to receive the precepts, and speaks of 'one should instruct concerning the kāṣāya and other robes worn upon the body,' people then have men and women who receive the bodhisattva precepts wear the seven-strip robe. Examining the text of that sūtra, it is not necessarily entirely so. Kāṣāya is properly translated as 'dyed' [in improper colors], or translated as 'sleeping mat'. Relying on the translation as 'dyed', this was merely a general regulation: when clerics and layfolk receive the precepts, they must wear ruined colors (kaṣāya), fearing that if they dyed them identically in bright, alluring shades, it would violate the Dharma's regulations; thus it says, 'One should instruct that the dyed robes worn upon the body all be of ruined colors.' Perhaps because local customs could not be completely regulated, yet home-leaving bodhisattvas must have them dyed in ruined colors, the text further says, 'A bhikṣu must differ from lay dress.' How could it ever permit layfolk to wear the seven-strip robe? As for translating it as 'sleeping mat', [Daoxuan of] Nanshan says: 'It is a general name for the three robes.' The Brahmajāla Sūtra says: 'Doffing the nine-strip, seven-strip, or five-strip kāṣāya'—this is its text. If so, what is to prevent the term kāṣāya from specifically applying to those who have left home? It also accords with the text: 'Bhikṣus must all differ from lay dress.' Investigating the commentaries and sub-commentaries of Tiantai [Zhiyi] and Dharma Master [Fazang], both explain it in the sense of 'dyed and ruined colors', and neither contains any statement permitting the three robes to the laity. Although the Vaipulya sūtras permit layfolk cultivating repentance to wear the three robes upon entering the bodhimaṇḍa, they must only be single-stitched and are not allowed to be double-hemmed (cut and pieced). The Buddha said: 'These three robes are called, first, single-stitched, and second, lay dress.' Master Jingxi [Zhanran] said: 'If they are double-hemmed, they are the robes received and held by fully ordained monks (upasampanna). Therefore, this [lay] robe must be specially made. People of the world borrow the robes of those who have left home, which is utterly impermissible.' Thus we know that although they are 'three robes', they are not the home-leaving robes (from the Fuxing ji). Believing this, if the Brahmajāla had already permitted wearing them, why would the Vaipulya sūtras strictly require single stitching? Furthermore, as for the Āgama where the Buddha ordered taking Ānanda's uttarāsaṅga and having the woman Vāsiṣṭhī wear it, and so forth, this stemmed from the Sage’s personal intention, temporarily adapting to circumstances. After his parinirvāṇa, ordinary mortals must rely on the established regulations. All the vinaya codes and the final words reiterated by the Nirvāṇa Sūtra are the definitive standard; that the three robes are permitted to the laity is nowhere found in those texts. Others say: to avert disasters and escape calamities, a small strip was permitted to be given—such as an actress temporarily draping it, or a hunter deceptively wearing it; or they say that obtaining four inches affords ample food and drink, and draping a single scrap prevents rākṣasas from devouring one. These merely reveal the efficacy and power of the three robes, not that the four classes of commoners are permitted to receive and uphold them. Even those who have left home to ward off evil are still ignorant of the protocols for keeping the robes; how could the crowds entangled in worldly dust know the etiquette of revering the Dharma? Nanshan said: 'If received and used according to proper rule, no transgression arises; if one receives them contrary to form, one plunges oneself into deep guilt. In life, one will lack robes to cover the body; in death, one will bear the sage's reprimand—how can one avoid having a share in the evil destinies?' Considering these words, one incurs deep blame upon oneself; how can one bear to take what is contrary to Dharma and wrongly implicate householders? There is an even further error that I cannot keep silent about: I frequently see clerics and layfolk vying to drape the luozi (vestment sash). Its small beginning was long ago, but its rampant spread is recent. Now, the three robes and the five-piece patchwork are set forth in the two canons of prohibitions and permissions; from what text do the name and form of the luozi derive? For those who mistakenly take scraps of the three robes to fashion it, when a bhikṣu's robe is damaged, he is only supposed to patch and repair it so that it is not lost to his practice; how can he be permitted to wear its torn pieces and further establish a disparate name? How does this differ from a bhikṣu who lost his robes to thieves? Or if it is said: 'Temporarily draping it while working in the monastery courtyard does no harm,' the antarvāsa is precisely the robe for within the monastery courtyard—why not wear that? As for lay disciples, if it is to avoid disasters and calamities, they should not constantly drape a scrap of the kāṣāya. If they are permitted to constantly drape it, why not permit the entire three robes, rather than only a single scrap? Nanshan cited the Mahāsāṃghika-vinaya, where a nāga wore a kāṣāya to escape the distress of the garuḍa, and then stated: 'If one does not comply with the teachings, then what is worn has no power.' If a kāṣāya that defies the teachings is already said to be powerless, how much more so for the luozi of today, which is specially cut and dyed anew and openly manufactured! In both name and substance, it is entirely non-Dharma. This proves that draping it brings guilt and no merit. Now I briefly set down three faults of defying the teachings, hoping that those who read this will see that no fault is too great to pardon if one resolves to reform for the good: First, neither the name nor the substance of the luozi is recorded anywhere; it is entirely absent from the two teachings of prohibitions and permissions. Lacking the five merits and illicitly mingling with the three lowly items, the retribution in the unseen realm for defying the teachings will not be empty. Second, the two teachings of prohibitions and permissions were laid down by the Buddha alone; from bodhisattvas to śrāvakas, they transmitted but did not create. Now that you create the luozi on your own, kind sirs, are you the Buddha? Third, this follows the lot of non-Buddhists, not the lineage of the Buddha. Nanshan said: 'Sewing variegated threads onto a robe to make stripes is a non-Buddhist practice, incurring a sthūlāccaya.' How much worse is it to make an illegitimate robe that completely violates the ancient regulations? If not non-Buddhists, what kind of people are they? I sincerely hope that practitioners of the four quarters who practice the Mahāyāna will ponder the text to the end and not cling to their own prejudices. Carrying hemp while throwing away gold is by no means the mark of a wise person; reforming abuses and following the correct path is what the perceptive do. You should know that in the supreme Buddha Vehicle, understanding admits of no distinction between monastic and lay, but the protocol of transmission and maintenance truly resides in the vinaya and deportment. When the Nirvāṇa Sūtra upholds the vinaya to discuss the eternal, it refers precisely to this. If the standards of the vinaya are destroyed, through whom can the Dharma be transmitted? How could a human being not protect his eyes? Severing the life of the permanent [Dharma]—is that not being a caṇḍāla? Anciently, Dharma Master Jing'ai, encountering the atrocities committed by Emperor Wu of the Northern Zhou, lamented that he could not protect the Dharma and asked what was the use of having left home; he sat upon a rock, wielded a knife, sliced the flesh from his entire body, pulled out his intestines to hang them on a tree, and clasping his heart with his hands, he died. Alas! Is this how ancient sages protected the Dharma? Since we are unable to emulate that, we should at least ensure that the regulations of the Dharma do not suffer ruin, bringing calamity upon ourselves and others.