隋天台智者大師別傳 1.2.6

1.2.6

[The Master's] mouth chanted prayers, and his hands made gestures pointing along the way: dense, layered clouds shrouded the mountain and rolled in, while a bright, long rainbow arose from the spring. Wind and rain surged, and songs and chants filled the roads. Wang Ji, the Area Commander-in-Chief of Jingzhou, Supreme Pillar of State, and Duke of Yiyang, arrived at the mountain to pay homage; he trembled and sweated, unable to remain at ease. Coming out, he said: 'I have repeatedly experienced battle lines, and facing danger only makes me braver; never have I felt such sudden terror as today.' In that year, the Prince's envoy came to welcome him. The people of Jingzhou, losing the chance to see his face, turned toward his direction and made prostrations from afar; reaching the crossroads, their hope was cut off. Subsequently retracing his steps through the Jiang and Huai regions, both clergy and laity rushed once more in joy and reverence. The Prince's perfection of morality (śīlapāramitā) had already reached the other shore, and he now received the perfection of wisdom (prajñāpāramitā). The request document stated: 'I, your disciple, am most fortunate to have mistakenly received the bond of teacher and disciple; across immeasurable kalpas, I rely entirely on your awakening guidance. The unmanifest (avijñapti) precept of form and mind was devoutly received in former years; though my body is porous and flawed, my mind guards the bright jewel. The categories of absorption and branches of dhyāna have all dissolved and returned to stillness. Burdened with governing the state and guarding the marches, acting as minister and son, how could I rely on the four conditions to enter samādhi? Those who sever defilements like lightning are indeed many; people of wisdom-liberation are not few in their ranks. Now I wish to submit my mind to wisdom and cessation, taking the lead in the moral teachings; to float forever upon the Dharma-stream, while also employing it to govern the state. Yet I know not whether my dull stagnation can be opened and transformed, whether the teacher’s gravity and the Way’s majesty can condescend to my intent, whether my shallow roots from past lives can sprout forth, or whether the Bodhisattva's response to capacity can accord with this time. The Book [of Rites] says: "A person's life rests on three [teachers], serving them as one"; how much more so when discoursing on Buddhist scriptures and not following a master! These humble words of mine fully express my longstanding sincerity; since fulfilling this matter is weighty, I beg you to discard polite refusals.' The Master replied: 'Having mistakenly received people's wide acclaim, I mimic the role of a teacher; regarding my superficial shallowness, it is unfitting to accept. How much more so given your sublime decree, which I am utterly unable to match! Merely to hesitate in thought would surely go against your profound trust.' The Prince requested again, saying: 'In learning, one values following a master; in affairs, one respects public opinion. Seeking through the dharmadhātu, the application of mind finds its place. Respectfully reflecting that your past planting of good roots was not attained in a single lifetime: initially it came from learning, and soon you met the sacred realm. The master of Mount Nanyue predicted that your exposition of Dharma was foremost, and none could surpass it; when Dhyāna Master Zhao came, he recounted these matters in full. At that time my heart was joyful, holding this inch of sincere devotion. When Zhizhe formerly entered the Chen court, that state tested you at the great Waguan assembly, where debates arose like sharp blades. Master Rong's forceful rhetoric had its horns broken first; the two Qiongs followed in succession, barely managing a retreat; and Master Ren praised and sang out that it was rare indeed. When I, your disciple, respectfully invited you, you first condescended to mount the seat of fearlessness, resolving difficulties like flowing water. Personally witnessing this, the whole assembly looked up in reverence. Hitherto, no one in Jing and Chu has failed to submit. That "without dhyāna there is no wisdom" is verified by the golden mouth. Recently, hearing what famous monks explain, Zhizhe's integration is profoundly ordered and graded, like myriad streams returning to the great sea; this encompassing reach is what first captures the Buddha's intent. My sole wish is that what is not yet attained be attained, and those not yet ferried over be ferried over; may your delight in preaching be inexhaustible and your Dharma-giving without end.' He again sent Liu Guyan to prostrate and devoutly pay homage (and so forth). Zhizhe repeatedly declined, but could not avoid it; he then composed the Commentary on the Vimalakīrtinirdeśa-sūtra. Liu Guyan of Hedong and Xu Ling of Donghai were both talented and of noble lineage; they assisted with the text and meaning, and sealed it in the precious depository. The Prince personally upheld and received it. Now the Prince entered the imperial court, and Zhizhe took leave to return to the eastern peaks. The people and customs of Wu and Yue swept the alleys and cleared the drains; along the way, magistrates, banners, and flowers crossed to await him. The old site of the temple had been desolate and abandoned: altogether for twelve years, human footprints had long ceased, and bamboo and trees had formed a forest. Arriving halfway up the mountain, they suddenly saw a monk, his eyebrows and hair pure white, holding a staff in the middle of the road. The whole company saw him; as they gradually approached, he withdrew and concealed himself. If even holy ones still awaited him, how much more so human hearts! Zhizhe was naturally fond of springs and rocks; leaning on his staff, he strolled at leisure, chanting as if sighing: 'Though among mortals, I do not forget the wilderness; how secluded the deep valleys, how joyful! In the quiet night, clearing the spirit to illuminate oneself—is this not delight?' Later, one night, the bright moon shone upon the couch; sitting alone, he expounded the Dharma continuously for a long while, as if answering someone's difficult questions. The attendant Zhixi inquired the next morning, saying: 'I do not know what conditions were seen last night?' The Master replied: 'First, I dreamed that a great wind suddenly arose and destroyed a precious stupa. Next, an Indian monk said to me: "Conditions are like firewood, illumination and function are like fire, and supporting assistance is like wind: these three are fully complete. The transformation and guidance have been accomplished. The sign granted on the night at Huading has neared its end; conditions and function are almost exhausted, and supporting assistance has ceased as well. Therefore I have come to inform you." Furthermore, I saw Master Nanyue together with Dhyāna Master Xi commanding me to expound the Dharma. I then thought to myself: "The names and meanings of other dharmas I can discern myself; only the three contemplations and three wisdoms were originally received face-to-face." Thereupon I expounded them. When I finished speaking, they said to me: "The adorned realm of another region has looked for you for a very long time; conditions dictate that you must go, and we shall accompany you." I bowed and gave my assent. This is the appearance of death's signs. I recall my childhood dream that I would end in this place; that is why I always rejoiced to return to the mountain. Having now received this unseen announcement, it must be that I will not live long. After my death, bury me at the spot indicated on the southwestern peak: pile stones around the corpse, and plant pines to cover the pit. Erect two white stupas, causing those who see them to bring forth the bodhi-mind.' After a short while, he spoke again to his disciples, saying: 'The merchant departs and deposits his gold; the physician leaves and leaves behind his medicine. Though I am not clever, the mad children are pitiable.' He then dictated the Treatise on Contemplating the Mind (Guanxin lun); it was drafted following his spoken words without additional polish. The treatise is recorded in a separate volume. In the tenth month of that winter, the Prince returned to his fief; he sent the Traveling Consultant Gao Xiaoxin into the mountain to welcome [the Master]. Thereupon [the Master] distributed his personal belongings to give to the poor and destitute. He set stakes at the foot of the mountain to mark the layout for halls, and also drew plans of the temple as a model, instructing the monastic assembly: 'Such foundation steps are arrayed before my eyes, but the completion of the buildings will occur after my death; I will surely not see it, but you will see it later. If you build the temple, rely entirely on this method.' The disciples questioned in doubt, saying: 'Here the mountain streams are steep and precipitous; by what causal power can a temple be completed?' The Master replied: 'This is no minor circumstance; it will be accomplished by the royal family.' The whole assembly heard this together and speculated among themselves: some said it meant a prince surnamed Wang; some said it meant the Heavenly King; some said it meant the king of the state. A clamour of debate arose, yet they could not determine it; only now that the event has been fulfilled do we know his prior intent: he was referring to the imperial Prince. Having marked the temple's foundations, he followed Xiaoxin out of the mountain. Upon arriving at Shicheng, he stated that he was ill, saying to Zhiyue: 'The Prince wished me to come, and not breaking my word, I came. I know my life ends here; therefore I need not proceed forward. Shicheng is the western gate of Tiantai; the Heavenly Buddha is the dwelling of the future miraculous icon. Since it is auspicious, it is proper to direct my last mind here. Divide my robes, bowl, and implements into two portions: one portion to offer to Maitreya, and one portion to supply the karmadāna.'