付法藏因緣傳 2

English (machine translation) 2

Language: English

2.1

Translated by Kiṅkara together with Tanyao, Tripiṭaka masters of the Western Regions, under the Northern Wei

When Mahākāśyapa was nearing nirvāṇa, he entrusted the supreme Dharma to Ānanda, speaking these words: "Elder, you should know: formerly the Bhagavat entrusted the Dharma to me. I am now old and decrepit, and am about to enter nirvāṇa. The supreme eye of the world I now wish to entrust to you. You must diligently guard and protect this Dharma." Ānanda said, "Yes, I respectfully accept your instruction." Thereupon Ānanda proclaimed the wonderful Dharma and transformed living beings. In past lives he had possessed great merit, his wisdom was deep and vast, and his learning extensive and penetrating. Praised by the Buddha as foremost in retention (dhāraṇī), he was fully able to hear and receive the Dharma-treasury of all Buddhas, just as the great ocean receives the hundred rivers. His renown was lofty and far-reaching, known to all. Such merit cannot be exhausted. I shall now set forth its causes and conditions. In ancient times, an asaṃkhyeya of kalpas ago, at the time of Dīpaṃkara Tathāgata, there was a śramaṇa who kept a śrāmaṇera. He constantly had him recite [texts], admonishing and commanding him day and night without rest or cease. If his recitation fell short even slightly, he would immediately scold him. At that time, this śrāmaṇera begged food on behalf of his master. If he lingered even slightly and did not fulfill his quota of recitation, he would be severely reviled by his master. Thereupon the śrāmaṇera was greatly distressed; begging food for his master, he would recite as he walked. At that time, an elder was surprised by this and questioned him. The śrāmaṇera answered, saying, "My master is stern and strict, requiring me to recite and practice. If I linger while begging food, I cannot fulfill my quota. For this reason, I recite whenever I walk." The elder answered, saying, "Do not be worried or distressed. From now on, I shall constantly provide for you; you should diligently recite and practice the scriptures." Then this śrāmaṇera no longer went begging, but recited single-mindedly. From that time on, his recitation was always sufficient. At that time, the śrāmaṇera was the World-Honored One, and the elder who gave food was Ānanda. Because of this auspicious condition, the monk Ānanda possessed deep and wonderful wisdom, strong memory in retention, and learning so vast and broad that it cannot be measured. When the Bhagavat attained the unsurpassed Way, he proclaimed the wonderful Dharma and transformed living beings. Thereupon Ānanda reflected to himself: "The world is a prison that cannot be loved or enjoyed. The five desires are like phantoms, without any solid reality; they are exceedingly terrifying and vile, worse than poisonous serpents. Prime vigor, strength, and fair countenance are all ravaged by old age and sickness. Impermanence is swift as a raging torrent, swallowing and destroying all gatherings of love and affection. The kings of old, possessed of majestic virtue and sovereignty, were blown down and destroyed by the wind of impermanence. Grief, sorrow, decline, and distress—all sufferings follow one another in succession. The rākṣasī of affection constantly deceives living beings. How can I escape this peril?" He also thought: "The Tathāgata, the World-Honored One, has divine wisdom that transcends the world. Originally from the Śākya clan, he went forth from household life to learn the Way. I should now go and become his disciple." He immediately went to the Buddha's place, pleaded piteously, and asked to go forth. The Buddha said, "Welcome!" and he became a śramaṇa. At that time the Tathāgata preached the Dharma for him—namely, discourses on giving, discourses on morality, and discourses on birth in heaven—and that desires are impure and that leaving them is the supreme good. Ānanda's mind was immediately opened and he became a srotāpanna. Later, when the Buddha was considering having an attendant, Kauṇḍinya at that time went to the Buddha's place and asked to be his attendant. The Buddha said, "Kauṇḍinya, you are old and advanced in years and need someone to look after you; how could you serve as my attendant?" In this way, the five hundred great disciples all went to the Buddha's place and asked to be his attendant, but none were permitted; bowing to the Buddha, they withdrew. At that time, Maudgalyāyana, using his knowledge of others' minds, saw that the Tathāgata's mind was set upon Ānanda, like the sun at its first rising casting its light upon the western wall. Together with the monks, he told Ānanda, "The Buddha needs you, venerable one, to be his attendant. You should swiftly go and pay homage to the Supreme Awakened One." Ānanda said, "The Tathāgata's majestic virtue is like a great dragon. I am defiled and weak, and dare not accept this command." The monks said, "Ānanda, you should know that the World-Honored One's mind is devoted solely to you, venerable one. You should swiftly pay homage; you must not delay long." Ānanda respectfully consented, and thereupon made three requests: "May the Tathāgata's old robes not be given to me; may any leftover food be bestowed upon others; and may the timing of approaching [the Buddha] be at my own discretion. If these three requests are granted, then I shall receive the instruction." Then the monks went to the World-Honored One's place, prostrated themselves in homage, and reported the above matters in full. The Tathāgata praised him, saying, "Excellent, Ānanda! He possesses great wisdom and knows well what is timely and appropriate. Not only today, but in the distant past it was also thus. Listen well, all of you; I shall proclaim it. Long ago, in an asaṃkhyeya of kalpas past, there was a king who ruled the world and dwelt in the city of Vāśī. In this city was a brāhmaṇa named Kurudha. Intelligent and well-versed, his natural talent transcended the world; the people and householders of the kingdom all revered him. He was abundant in wealth and treasures—hundreds of thousands of myriads of koṭis—yet, having no son to succeed him, he was constantly grieved. He prayed to the deities for twelve years. His principal wife then became pregnant; when the months and days were fulfilled, she gave birth to a boy, whose body was purple-golden and whose appearance was upright and handsome. A physiognomist divined: 'This child has meritorious virtue.' They then gave him the name Mahādāna ('Great Giving'). As he grew older, he asked his father for permission to go out on an excursion. His father then ordered the roads to be adorned and swept, incense burned, flowers scattered, and various musical entertainment performed. Mahādāna then went outside to tour and view. On the road ahead he saw a beggar wearing ragged clothes, speaking in a humble voice and pleading for pity. Mahādāna asked, 'Why are you like this?' The beggar answered, 'I was originally destitute and alone, pressed by sickness and suffering. Driven by the urgency of life and body, I therefore beg.' Hearing this, Mahādāna sighed in sorrow: 'How pitiable are the kinds of living beings! Ignorance obstructs their minds, and they sink into the five desires. Harassed and harmed by old age, sickness, and death, yet within this they find easy and carefree joy. Not cultivating good karma, they suffer this evil fruit. How strange! It is a great peril, exceedingly terrifying!' Moving forward a little further, he saw butchers and hunters trapping birds with nets, and tilling the soil and fishing, causing widespread slaughter and harm. Mahādāna asked, 'Why are you like this?' The people answered, 'Since the time of our grandfathers and fathers, we have always engaged in this occupation. We rely on this to sustain life and also to provide the king's corvée. If we abandon it one day, we will immediately fall into poverty.' Hearing this, Mahādāna felt even deeper grief and sorrow. He then reflected to himself and gave rise to great compassion: 'Alas! Living beings are foolish and lack the eye of wisdom. Having long accumulated sinful karma, they are destitute, emaciated, and weak, dwelling in great darkness, exceedingly terrifying. Now they again create such evil karma, killing living beings and severing other lives dear [to them]. Evil karma increases and non-virtue thrives; revolving in the five destinies, how can they find a way out? I should now use skillful means to rescue and protect them, bringing coolness to the burning distress of birth and death.' Having had this thought, he entered the great ocean and went to the palace of the dragon king to seek the wish-fulfilling jewel (cintāmaṇi). He saw a golden city of dazzling radiance, surrounded by poisonous serpents so that it could not be approached. He immediately entered the samādhi of loving-kindness, stepped over them, and passed. The dragon king came out to welcome him, bowed in reverence, and after exchanging greetings of comfort, they entered the palace together. [The dragon king] asked, 'Venerable one, for what purpose have you come here?' Mahādāna answered, 'Because of poverty, the people of Jambudvīpa cause extreme slaughter and harm, and at the end of their lives they will surely be born in the three evil destinies. Pitying them, I have traversed dangers to come here, seeking the wish-fulfilling jewel in order to deliver them from their suffering. May you be pleased to bestow it, so as to benefit living beings.' The dragon king said, 'Splendid! I shall not oppose your teaching. I ask only that you stay for a short while and preach the Dharma for me.' Mahādāna consented and stayed for four months, explaining the names, origins, and ends of all dharmas, and sequentially expounding the meaning and phrasing. With an earnest mind, the dragon king listened, received, and contemplated them; his inquiries about Mahādāna's daily life were always timely and appropriate, and the timing of approaching him was left to his own discretion. When the four months had passed, Mahādāna took his leave. The dragon took the jewel from his topknot and gave it to him, and made this vow: 'The great being's loving-kindness and compassion are exceedingly broad and vast; you will surely attain spontaneous, correct awakening. May I become your foremost disciple in learning!' Thereupon Mahādāna used the wish-fulfilling jewel to rain down the seven precious things. All the people of Jambudvīpa were at peace and happy; they practiced the ten virtues, and at the end of their lives they were born in heaven. Monks, you should know: at that time, Mahādāna was myself, and the dragon king of that time was Ānanda. Even among dragon kings he knew what was timely and appropriate, how much more so now could he not be thoroughly versed? Thereupon Ānanda served as the Tathāgata's attendant, being well able to comply and adapt; he retained what he heard of the Dharma-treasury without the slightest loss. When the World-Honored One was in the Grove of Twin Trees nearing parinirvāṇa, he asked Kauṇḍinya where Ānanda was. [Kauṇḍinya] replied, 'He is now outside the Śāla Grove, being harassed by the hosts of Māra, deep in the net of wrong views and experiencing great suffering and distress. Except for the Buddha, the Tathāgata, no one can rescue and protect him.' Mañjuśrī said to the Buddha, 'World-Honored One, in this great assembly there are bodhisattvas who, through immeasurable kalpas, have given rise to the bodhi-mind, long cultivated vows and practices, and attained non-retrogression. Such as these are well able to uphold the Dharma-treasury of all Buddhas. For what reason do you ask where Ānanda is?' The Buddha told Mañjuśrī, 'The monk Ānanda has served me for a long time without the slightest fault. He is fully endowed with what is inconceivable; the Dharma he has heard he is well able to uphold, just like pouring water from one vessel into another. He is looked up to in common by all living beings; therefore I ask where Ānanda is. He is now twelve yojanas away from this assembly, harassed by the hosts of Māra. Take my spell and go there to release him.' Mañjuśrī immediately went to the place of Māra and uttered the dhāraṇī. When Māra heard this, he released Ānanda at once. Together with Mañjuśrī, he came to the Buddha's place, prostrated himself in homage, and sat to one side. At that time, in the middle of the latter part of the night, the World-Honored One entered parinirvāṇa. All the devas and humans made great offerings; wrapping him in fine muslin, they cremated him (jhāpita). When these matters were entirely concluded, Mahākāśyapa and all the arhats wished to assemble the eye of the world at Rājagṛha. Ānanda was at that time still in the stage of learning (śaikṣa); because his outflows were not yet exhausted, he did not take part among the noble assembly. At that time, there was a monk named Vajjiputta who enlightened him with a verse:

2.3

Excellent is the man of wide learning,
dwelling quietly amidst the trees of the forest!
You should contemplate all dharmas
as false, deceptive, and not firm.
Birth and death have many faults and perils;
nirvāṇa is the supreme coolness.
Son of Gotama, you ought
diligently to cultivate practices free of outflows.
In this way, before long,
you will surely attain the foremost bliss.

2.4

Having heard this, Ānanda walked the caṅkrama all night long. Although he applied himself with diligence and toil, he did not attain arhatship. His body and mind weary and exhausted, he wished to lie down and rest; before his head had reached the pillow, he attained the fruit of non-attachment. The threefold vision was unobstructed, and the six supernormal knowledges were clear and penetrating. He immediately flew to Pippala Cave, stood outside the door, and spoke a verse:

2.5

Of wide learning and eloquence,
attendant to the Correctly Awakened One,
Gotama Ānanda
is now outside the door.

2.6

At that time, Kāśyapa answered with a verse, saying:

2.7

If you have exhausted all suffering
and cast off the burden of afflictions,
you should display supernormal power
so that the assembly may all bear witness.

2.8

Thereupon Ānanda, through supernormal power, entered through the stone wall, bowed at the feet of the assembled saṅgha, and sat according to his rank. Receiving Kāśyapa's command, he recited and compiled the supreme eye. Later, when Kāśyapa was about to enter nirvāṇa, together with King Ajātaśatru he went to Cock's Foot Mountain (Kukkuṭapāda), burned incense, scattered flowers, praised him, and made offerings. The king said, 'Venerable one, when the Tathāgata and Kāśyapa entered parinirvāṇa, because of my own many misfortunes, I was not able to see them. When you, venerable sir, pass into extinction, I pray only that you condescend to inform me.' Ānanda said, 'Very well, I respectfully accept your command.' Thereupon he wandered about, proclaiming the wonderful Dharma, transforming living beings and enabling them all to be delivered. At last, he came to a bamboo grove, where he heard a monk reciting a stanza of the Dharmapada:

2.9

If a man should live for a hundred years
without seeing a water crane,
it would be better to live for a single day
and be able to behold it.

2.10

Having heard this, Ānanda sighed with grief: "How swiftly the eye of the world has been extinguished! How could afflictions and various evils arise so soon? Transgressing the noble teachings, they give rise to deluded imaginings of their own; lacking the light of wisdom, they constantly abide in the darkness of ignorance, eternally wandering in the great ocean of birth and death, tormented and oppressed by old age, sickness, and death!" He then spoke to the monk: "This is not the Buddha's word; it must not be practiced. You should now know that two kinds of people slander the Buddha: first, those who, despite wide learning, give rise to wrong views; second, those who do not understand the profound meaning and speak inverted and false words. Having these two dharmas brings injury to oneself and cannot lead people to be freed from the three evil destinies. You should now listen as I recite the Buddha's verse:

2.11

If a man should live for a hundred years
without understanding the dharma of arising and cessation,
it would be better to live for a single day
and be able to understand it thoroughly."

2.12

At that time, the bhikṣu went directly to his master and related Ānanda's words. His master said to him, 'Ānanda is old and decrepit, and his wisdom has deteriorated. His words contain many errors and are not to be trusted. Now you should simply recite as you did before.' Later, when Ānanda heard that bhikṣu beneath the bamboo grove still reciting the previous verse, he asked him about his intention. He answered, saying, 'Venerable, my master told me: "Ānanda is old and decrepit, and his words are mostly false. Now you should simply rely on how you previously recited and practiced."' Ānanda reflected: 'He disdains my words; perhaps he will accept the teaching of another.' He then entered samādhi, seeking an eminent person of virtue, but saw no one who could turn his mind back. Thereupon he said, 'How extraordinary! Impermanence is exceedingly mighty, breaking apart and destroying such immeasurable worthy and noble ones, causing all the world to become desolate and empty, constantly dwelling in darkness and walking amidst terrors. Wrong views blaze up, and unwholesomeness increases, slandering the Tathāgata and severing the true teaching. They shall perpetually sink in the great river of birth and death, opening the gates of the bad destinations and closing the path to the human and heavenly realms, enduring all kinds of suffering and afflictions for immeasurable kalpas. How mournful! The world is deeply pitiable. Now to this bhikṣu I myself spoke, yet he turns back to accept wrongful words and does not receive my instruction. To whom should I speak of such matters? The multitude of worldly sufferings is not to be wished for or enjoyed. This body is unstable, rotten, fragile, and delicate, just like a mass of foam, changing and vanishing in an instant. An upright and handsome countenance is deeply loved and attached to, but when old age and decline arrive, where will it be? It is covered with thin skin and considered an adornment, but pus and blood flow within, an unclean, foul excretion. Conditioned things are impermanent, proceeding with exceeding swiftness: in the span of a single breath there are four hundred arisings and cessations. Just as in the empty sky thunder rumbles, clouds gather, and a violent tempest suddenly arises and is soon dispersed and extinguished, so too the five desires are unstable and likewise like this. People cherish each other with love and affection, dwelling in peace and happiness; yet when impermanence arrives, who among them can remain? The multitude of worldly sufferings makes it exceedingly difficult to dwell here long. It is fitting for me to enter nirvāṇa this very day. Furthermore, my Great Master as well as those of common brahma-faring—all such as these have entered extinction. Why is it fitting for me now to linger long?' He further made this thought: 'King Ajātaśatru has an agreement with me; I ought to go to him and inform him.' He then proceeded to the royal palace and said to the gatekeeper, 'Inform the king for me: Ānanda is outside, and about to enter nirvāṇa, he has come to see you.' The gatekeeper answered, saying, 'The king is now asleep. If I were to awaken him, my offense would not be small.' Ānanda said to him, 'When the king awakes, it would be fitting for you to fully convey this intention for me.' King Ajātaśatru dreamed that the shaft of his parasol broke, and he immediately woke up in alarm. The gatekeeper fully conveyed the above matter to the king. When the king heard this, he fell to the ground unconscious. Cold water was sprinkled on his face, and only after a long while did he revive. He cried out weeping, his grief moving heaven and earth; beating his breast and wailing, he gave rise to great sorrow and suffering, saying, 'Alas, how wondrous and terrible! The eye of the world has vanished! Who will deliver and save those in the suffering and distress of the three realms? In the past, the World-Honored One had profound and vast loving-kindness and compassion, acting as a great refuge for all sentient beings. Since he entered nirvāṇa, the world has been left desolate and orphaned. Mahākāśyapa possessed great renown, second only to the Tathāgata in expounding the Dharma and converting [beings]; yet he too has entered extinction, and the Dharma has increasingly declined and deteriorated. We looked up to Ānanda just as to the sun and moon; now that he enters nirvāṇa, what further reliance is there? The water of the Dharma is pure, washing away the dust and toil [of defilements]; who will once again proclaim it to benefit all? These sentient beings constantly suffer from thirst and craving; who will pour down the Dharma rain to satisfy them? The multitudes of beings in the three realms will perpetually wander in transmigration, enduring all kinds of suffering and affliction without end. The Demon King will rejoice, gaining many retinues; the good Dharma will gradually come to an end, and all evils will blaze up.' He then asked the gatekeeper where Ānanda was. A grove deity reported to the king, 'He has gone toward Vaiśālī.' The king immediately arrayed the fourfold army and went to the bank of the Ganges. Ānanda had boarded a boat in the middle of the river. The king went straight forward, prostrated, and said, 'The bright lamp of the three realms has already abandoned me and departed; now I place my reliance and admiration upon you—may you please not enter nirvāṇa!' Ānanda remained silent and did not consent. At that time, the great earth shook in six ways. At that time in the Himālayas there were five hundred ṛṣis who, upon seeing this sign, all made this thought: 'Due to what causes and conditions is there this extraordinary sign?' When they observed and saw that Ānanda was about to enter extinction, they immediately flew through the air, went to his presence, prostrated in homage, and begged for his pity to leave household life. [Ānanda] then transformed the Ganges into golden ground, expounded the Dharma to the ṛṣis as was appropriate, and their hair and beards fell out of their own accord; they became arhats and all entered parinirvāṇa at the same time. Ānanda thought: 'The Buddha prophesied that in Kaśmīra there would be a bhikṣu named Madhyāntika who would spread the Dharma-eye in that land.' He then entrusted the Dharma to Madhyāntika, leapt into the sky, performed the eighteen miraculous transformations, and entered the wind-swifter samādhi. He divided his body into four: one portion was directed toward Trāyastriṃśa Heaven and given to Śakra Devānām Indra; one portion was given to Sāgara, the dragon king of the great ocean; one portion was given to the Licchavis of Vaiśālī; and one portion was conferred upon King Ajātaśatru. In these four places, jeweled stūpas were each erected, and incense was burned and flowers were scattered to venerate the śarīra. When Mahākāśyapa was near nirvāṇa, he said to Ānanda: 'I now entrust the Dharma-jewel to you. When you, āyusmat, enter nirvāṇa later on, in the great city of Rājagṛha there will be an elder named Śāṇakavāsa, of high talent and valor, endowed with great wisdom, who in the past deeply planted good roots. He conceived the intention to enter the great sea to collect rare gems; upon returning, he vowed to hold a Pañcavārṣika assembly, build caṅkrama places for the Buddha, the Tathāgata, and further erect high gates and storied pavilions. When his deeds are accomplished, he may be ordained. The Tathāgata's Dharma-treasury is to be entirely entrusted to him.' Therefore, when Ānanda was on the verge of entering extinction, he said to him: 'The Buddha entrusted the Dharma-eye to Mahākāśyapa, and Kāśyapa entrusted the Dharma to me. As the time of my nirvāṇa has now arrived, I entrust the Dharma-jewel treasury to you. You must diligently guard and protect this Dharma, causing all sentient beings to drink the flavor of amṛta.' Śāṇakavāsa answered, saying, 'I receive your instruction. I shall protect such wonderful Dharma and act as a great bright torch for all.' Thereupon he sequentially proclaimed the unsurpassed Dharma-medicine to cure the illnesses of affliction and rescue sentient beings. His virtue was lofty and far-reaching, having long cultivated vows and practices, possessing extensive learning, dhāraṇī, and inexhaustible eloquence. Now I shall expound the assembly of his merits: In the past, immeasurable asaṃkhyeya kalpas ago, Śāṇakavāsa was at that time a caravan leader together with five hundred merchants, wishing to enter the great sea to gather rare gems. On their way ahead, they saw a Pratyekabuddha stricken with a severe illness, his breath and life feeble and exhausted. Together with the merchants, he immediately stopped, sought out medicine, and treated him, serving and supplying him wholeheartedly with nothing lacking. The illness was subsequently cured, and his physical strength became fully restored. This Pratyekabuddha was wearing a hempen garment. At that time, the caravan leader bathed the Pratyekabuddha with various fragrant decoctions and presented fine cotton robes, saying, 'O Great Sage, this hempen garment is extremely worn and wretched; I only pray you accept the clothes I present.' The Pratyekabuddha said, 'Benefactor, you should know: wearing this robe I left household life and attained the path, and wearing this I shall again enter nirvāṇa.' When the caravan leader heard this, he was filled with sorrow and distress, saying, 'O Great Sage, I pray you do not enter extinction; you ought to enter the great sea with me. Throughout my life I shall supply whatever you need: clothing, bedding, and medicine for illness.' The Pratyekabuddha said, 'I cannot enter the sea; I now wish to enter parinirvāṇa. You should generate a profound mind toward this field of merit; in the future you will certainly obtain a great recompense.' He then flew into the sky, performed the eighteen miraculous transformations, returned to his original seat, and entered nirvāṇa. The caravan leader wept in grief and choked with sobs, piled up various fragrant woods, and cremated him, collecting his śarīra and erecting a stūpa to venerate them. Thereupon he made a vow, saying: 'May I in future lives encounter a holy master even surpassing this one; and may all my gatherings of merit, dignified deportment, rules, and garments be equal to and not different from this holy one today!' Due to the extremely mighty power of this vow, while dwelling in his mother's womb he wore a hempen garment, which grew together with his body. When he left household life, received the precepts, attained the path, and entered nirvāṇa, this hempen garment never left his body. Because of this, he was named Śāṇakavāsa. In the past, when the Tathāgata traveled to the country of Mathurā, he saw a grove of verdant trees blooming luxuriantly. He said to Ānanda, 'Do you see this grove?' Ānanda said, 'Yes, indeed, I have seen it.' The Buddha said, 'This is Mount Urumuṇḍa. After my extinction, there will be a bhikṣu named Śāṇakavāsa who will build a saṅghārāma on this mountain, expounding the Dharma and transforming [beings] to great benefit.' After Śāṇakavāsa returned from the sea, having obtained great treasures, he went to the Bamboo Grove and prostrated at Ānanda's feet, saying, 'O Great Sage, I originally entered the sea and vowed to return safely to hold a great assembly of giving for the Buddha and the Saṅgha. Where is the Buddha, the World-Honored One, right now?' Ānanda answered, saying, 'He has already entered nirvāṇa.' When he heard these words, he fell to the ground unconscious; only after water was sprinkled on his face was he revived. He cried aloud, weeping incessantly; he pulled out his hair, covered his body in dust, beat his breast, wailed aloud, and tears fell like rain. He then spoke these words: 'The great evil of impermanence has destroyed this mass of jewels! The world is left desolate and orphaned, forever without reliance! How slight is my merit and how heavy are my sinful obstructions, that I do not behold the bright and pure Buddha-sun! I will perpetually sink in the sea of suffering of the three realms of existence!' He further asked Ānanda, 'Are Mahākāśyapa, Mahāmaudgalyāyana, Śāriputra, and the others all present?' Ānanda answered, saying, 'They have all entered extinction.' Having heard these words, his grief and sorrow doubled. He said, 'O Great Sage, I originally entered the sea and vowed to return safely to hold a great assembly of giving for the Buddha and the Saṅgha. Now I wish to prepare a modest offering for the holy assembly; I only pray you will take pity and grant permission.' Ānanda answered, saying, 'Excellent, elder! You are able to understand that the world is unstable and fragile, and generate firm karma toward the supreme field of merit. Elder, you should know: all phenomena are impermanent, lacking self or anything belonging to a self; like borrowed goods, they cannot be kept for long. If you wish to attain unsurpassed benefit, you should generate earnest karma toward the field of merit. The retribution for this cannot be destroyed.' Śāṇakavāsa then prepared everything for the Pañcavārṣika assembly, providing an abundance of all necessities, and built caṅkrama places, gates, and storied pavilions. When these matters were completed, Ānanda said to him, 'Your material giving is exceedingly rare. Now you should also perform the giving of Dharma. This giving is subtle, wonderful, and vast, surpassing material giving by hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands of times.' Śāṇa asked, 'What is meant by the giving of Dharma?' Ānanda answered, saying, 'Leaving household life in the Buddha's Dharma to study the path, expounding the Dharma to convert and benefit sentient beings: this is called the giving of Dharma.' Śāṇakavāsa answered, saying, 'Excellent! This accords well with my wish.' Thereupon Ānanda ordained him, allowing him to leave household life, and conferred the full precepts upon him. He said to the Great Master, 'When I was originally born, I wore a hempen garment; now throughout my entire life I shall uphold this robe.' Having spoken these words, he attained the power of dhāraṇī, never forgetting any Dharma he heard. He became an arhat endowed with great merit. After Ānanda entered nirvāṇa, he proclaimed the wonderful Dharma to benefit sentient beings. Śāṇakavāsa was able to remember all eighty-four thousand gates of the Dharma-treasury held by Ānanda; just as pouring water into a different vessel, his reception and upholding was likewise like this. He traveled about teaching and converting with the true, pure Dharma, and finally came to the country of Mathurā, where he wished to build a dwelling place on Mount Mandara. At that time on that mountain were two nāga sons whose poisonous malice was blazing and unapproachable. Śāṇakavāsa immediately used his spiritual power to shake this mountain. The nāgas were enraged and raised fierce winds and rain. Śāṇakavāsa entered the maitrī-samādhi, and through the power of samādhi the nāgas' poison was extinguished. They were greatly terrified, gave rise to faith and reverence, and asked, 'Venerable, what instructions do you have?' Śāṇa answered, saying, 'The Buddha prophesied that this mountain would have a dwelling place for the Saṅgha; therefore I wish to establish it here.' The nāga sons said, 'If it is truly the Buddha's prophecy, excellent, we grant permission.' Śāṇakavāsa then built a dwelling place on that mountain, complete with meditation chambers and caṅkrama paths, quiet inside and outside without any disturbance. Having built the dwelling place, he then made this thought: 'The Buddha prophesied that Kaśmīra is peaceful, abundant, joyful, tranquil, and free from obstructions and difficulties, cool, with few illnesses, and very pleasant for caṅkrama. Should I now go to that place?' He then flew through the air to the country of Kaśmīra, entered absorption, and joyfully spoke a verse:

2.13

He constantly wore robes of śāṇa,
and perfected the dhyāna of five branches.
Amid mountain crags and empty valleys,
he sat in dhyāna, recollecting in meditative absorption.
Wind, cold, and all manner of hardships—
he was fully able to endure them all.
His mind was well liberated,
and he adorned himself with wisdom,
just like an elephant in the wilderness,
composed and free from anxiety.

2.14

At that time Upagupta had five hundred disciples who still remained in birth and death, unable to attain liberation; haughtiness arose in their minds, and they were exceedingly arrogant. Upagupta immediately entered samādhi and observed that these people had no karmic connection with himself, and that only his teacher could transform and deliver them. He then single-mindedly concentrated on Śāṇakavāsin. Śāṇakavāsin thereupon, through his supernormal powers, flew through the air like a great king of geese and arrived at where he dwelt. Upagupta had walked off to another place, so only the disciples saw him. Śāṇakavāsin's robes were coarse and tattered, and his hair and nails were long and sharp. He went to Gupta's room and sat upon his seat. Gupta's disciples all became angry: 'What wretched person is this, occupying our master's seat?' They immediately wished to drive him away and make him go outside, but he was like Mount Sumeru, impossible to shake. Wishing to utter harsh words, their mouths involuntarily shut tight. They then went together to Upagupta and addressed him, saying: 'Great Master! There is an old bhikṣu, gaunt and haggard in appearance, who went to our master's seat and sat cross-legged upon it.' Gupta thought to himself: 'Unless it were my master, no one else would be able to sit there.' Arriving at the room, he saw Śāṇakavāsin, and bowed his head to the ground in homage. The disciples thought to themselves: 'Although our master pays homage to him, our master's majestic virtue surpasses his.' Śāṇakavāsin knew that the disciples' haughtiness had not yet ceased. Pointing his finger toward the empty sky, fragrant milk rained down, flowing like a suspended cataract from the peak of a high mountain. He asked, saying: 'Gupta, what sign of meditative absorption is this?' Upagupta immediately entered samādhi and observed with a deep mind, but could not understand it. He then asked his teacher: 'What samādhi is this?' [Śāṇaka]vāsin replied, saying: 'This is called the Nāga-Vigṛmbhita (Dragon’s Stride) Samādhi.' In this manner, one after another through five hundred samādhis, when asked their names, he did not understand any of them. Śāṇakavāsin explained them one by one. Gupta said: 'All that I have attained was received from my master; only regarding these samādhis am I not a fit vessel.' [Śāṇakavāsin said:] 'Gupta, you should know that of the Tathāgata's samādhis, none of the pratyekabuddhas know the names. Of the pratyekabuddhas' samādhis, none of the śrāvakas are able to comprehend them. The samādhis entered by Mahāmaudgalyāyana, Śāriputra, and the others cannot be fathomed by the other arhats. The signs of samādhi of my master Ānanda are completely unknown to me. Now, my samādhis are likewise unknown to you. Such samādhis as these will all be extinguished following me after my nirvāṇa. The seventy-seven thousand Jātaka sūtras in full, the ten thousand [sections of] the Abhidharma Pitaka, and the eighty thousand pure vinayas—such teachings as these will also be extinguished following me. Therefore, Gupta, after the Tathāgata's extinction, the worthy and noble ones have vanished from sight, and thus this Dharma-treasury will gradually decline and dwindle, until at the very end all will be completely gone. You must now diligently protect and preserve it.' At that time the disciples only then reproached themselves: 'We were without wisdom and slighted the great sage; only now do we know that our master's meditative absorption is not equal to his.' Thereupon Śāṇaka taught the Dharma for them, and the five hundred disciples attained the path of arhatship. At that time, having completed what was to be done for sentient beings, the Venerable Śāṇakavāsin soared into the sky and displayed the eighteen miraculous transformations, then returned to his original seat and entered nirvāṇa. Upagupta and his retinue gathered various kinds of fragrant wood and cremated him with fire. They collected his śarīra, erected a stūpa, and made offerings to it.

2.15

Account of the Transmission of the Dharma-treasury, Fascicle Two

Linked texts (1)

付法藏因緣傳 — Classical Chinese