付法藏因緣傳 2.12

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: