續高僧傳 27.19

27.19

釋普安。姓郭氏。京兆涇陽人。小年依圓禪師出家。苦節頭陀捐削世務。而性在和忍。不憙怨酷。或代執勞役。受諸勤苦。情甘如薺。恐其事盡。晚投藹法師。通明三藏常業華嚴。讀誦禪思准為標擬。周氏滅法。栖隱于終南山之楩梓谷西坡。深林自庇廓居世表。潔操泉石連蹤由甫。又引靜淵法師同止林野。披釋幽奧資承玄理。加以遵修苦行亡身為物。或露形草莽施諸蚊虻。流血被身初無懷憚。或委臥亂屍用施豺虎。望存生捨以祈本志。而虎豹雖來。皆嗅而不食。常懷介介。不副情願。孤踐狩蹤冀逢食噉。于時天地既閉。像教斯蒙。國令嚴重不許逃難。京邑名德三十餘僧。避地終南。投骸未委。安乃總召詳集洲渚其心幽密安處。自居顯露身行乞索。不懼嚴誅。故得衣食俱豐修業無廢。亂世知士安其在歟。時有重募捉獲一僧賞物十段。有人應募來欲執安。即慰喻曰。觀卿貧煎當欲相給。為設食已俱共入京。帝語此人曰。我國法急。不許道人民間。爾復助急不許道人山中。若爾遣他何處得活。宜放入山不須檢校。又周臣柳白澤者。奉勅傍山搜括逃僧。有黨告云。此楩梓谷內有普安道人。因遣追取。即與俱至。澤語黨曰。我不得見。宜即放還。於是釋然復歸所止。前後遭難曾無私隱。皆見解勉。例如此也。時藹法師避難。在義谷杜映世家。掘窰藏之。安被放還因過禮覲。藹曰。安公明解佛法。頗未寬多。而神志絕倫不避強禦。蓋難及也。安曰。今蒙脫難。乃惟花嚴力耳。凡所祈誠莫不斯賴。因請藹還山親自經理。四遠承風投造非一。藹乃與安更開其所住。具如別傳。隋文創曆佛教大興。廣募遺僧依舊安置。時楩梓一谷三十餘僧。應詔出家。並住官寺。惟安欣茲重復不為名馳。依本山居守素林壑。時行村聚惠益生靈終𥨊煙霞不接浮俗。末有人於子午虎林兩谷合㵎之側。鑿龕結庵。延而住之。初止龕日。上有大石正當其上。恐落掘出逐峻崩下。安自念曰。願移餘處莫碎龕窟。石遂依言迸避餘所。大眾共怪。安曰。華嚴力也。未足異之。又龕東石壁㵎左。有索頭陀者。川鄉巨害縱橫非一。陰嫉安德恒思誅殄。與伴三人持弓挾刃。攘臂挽弓將欲放箭。箭不離弦手張不息。怒眼舌噤立住經宿。聲相通振遠近雲會。鄉人稽首歸誠請救。安曰。素了不知。豈非華嚴力也。若欲除免但令懺悔。如語教之方蒙解脫。又龕西魏村張暉者。夙興惡念以盜為業。夜往安所私取佛油瓮。受五斗背負而出。既至院門迷昏失性。若有所縛不能動轉。眷屬鄉村同來為謝。安曰。余不知。蓋華嚴力乎。語令懺悔。扶取油瓮。如語得脫。又龕南張卿者。來盜安錢。袖中持去。既達家內寫而不出。口噤無言。卿尋歸懺復道而返。有程郭村程暉和者。頗懷信向。恒來安所聽受法要。因患身死。已經兩宿。纏屍於地伺欲棺殮。安時先往鄠縣。返還在道。行達西南之德行寺。東去暉村五里。遙喚程暉和何為不見迎耶。連喚不已。田人告曰。和久死矣。無由迎也。安曰。斯乃浪語。吾不信也。尋至其村。厲聲大喚。和遂動身。旁親乃割所纏繩令斷。安入其庭。又大喚之。和即屈起。匍匐就安。令屏除棺器。覆一筈筌以當佛坐。令和遶旋。尋服如故。更壽二十許歲。後遇重病來投乞救。安曰。放爾遊蕩非吾知也。便遂命終。時安風聲搖逸。道俗榮荷。其例眾也。皆來請謁。興建福會。多有通感。略述一兩。昆明池北白村老母者。病臥床枕失音百日。指撝男女思見安形。會其母意。請來至宅。病母既見不覺下迎。言問起居奄同常日。遂失病所在。于時聲名更振。村聚齊集。各率音樂。巡家告令。欲設大齋。大萬村中田遺生者。家途壁立而有四女。妻著弊布齊膝而已。四女赤露逈無條綫。大女名華嚴。年已二十。惟有麁布二尺擬充布施。安引村眾次至其門。愍斯貧苦遂度不入。大女思念。由我貧煎不及福會。今又不修當來倍此。周遍求物閴爾無從。仰面悲號。遂見屋甍一把亂𢇲用塞明孔。挽取抖擻得穀十餘。挼以成米。并將前布擬用隨喜。身既無衣待至夜暗。匍匐而行趣齋供所。以前施物遙擲眾中。十餘粒米別奉炊飯。因發願曰。女人窮業久自種得。竭貧行施用希來報。輒以十餘黃米投飯甑中。必若至誠貧業盡者。當願所炊之飯變成黃色。如無所感。命也奈何。作此誓已掩淚而返。於是甑中五石米飯。並成黃色。大眾驚嗟未知所以。周尋緣構。乃云田遺生女之願也。齋會齊率獲粟十斛尋用濟之。安辦法衣仍度華嚴。送入京寺。爾後聲名重振。弘悟難述。安居處雖隱。每行慈救。年常二社血祀者多。周行救贖勸修法義。不殺生邑其數不少。嘗於龕側村中。縛猪三頭將加烹宰。安聞往贖。社人恐不得殺。增長索錢十千。安曰。貧道見有三千。已加本價十倍。可以相與眾各不同。更相忿競。忽有小兒。羊皮裹腹來至社會。助安贖猪。既見諍競因從乞酒。行飲行舞焜煌旋轉。合社老少眼並失明。須臾自隱不知所在。安即引刀自割髀肉曰。此彼肉耳。猪食糞穢。爾尚噉之。況人食米。理是貴也。社人聞見一時同放。猪既得脫繞安三匝。以鼻䖶觸若有愛敬。故使郊之南西五十里內雞猪絕嗣。乃至于今。其感發慈善皆此類也。性多誠信樂讀華嚴。一鉢三衣累紀彌勵開皇八年。頻勅入京。為皇儲門師長公主營建靜法。復延住寺。名雖帝宇常寢巖阿。以大業五年十一月五日。終于靜法禪院。春秋八十。遺骸於終南起塔。在至相寺之側矣。

Shi Puan was surnamed Guo. He was a native of Jingyang in Jingzhao. In his youth he went forth under Dhyāna Master Yuan. Resolute in ascetic discipline and dhūta practice, he renounced and cast off secular affairs. Yet by nature he was harmonious and forbearing, taking no pleasure in enmity or cruelty. At times he took the place of others in labor and chores, enduring all manner of toil and hardship; his mind relished them like sweet chicory, fearing only that the tasks would come to an end. Later he turned to Dharma Master Ai; he became thoroughly versed in the Tripiṭaka and took the Avataṃsaka as his regular study, using its reading, recitation, and dhyāna contemplation as his standard. When the Zhou dynasty suppressed the Dharma, he went into seclusion on the western slope of Pianzi Valley in the Zhongnan Mountains. Sheltered by the deep forest, he lived detached far beyond the worldly sphere, his conduct as pure as mountain springs and rocks, walking in the footsteps of Chao You and Shan Fu. He also invited Dharma Master Jingyuan to dwell together in the wilds, where they unraveled and explained the deep and profound, cultivating and receiving the mysterious principle. In addition, he observed and practiced ascetic austerities, giving up his body for living beings. At times he bared his body in the tall grass to give it to mosquitoes and gnats, his flesh bathed in blood, without ever harboring any dread. At other times he lay down among scattered corpses to offer himself to jackals and tigers, hoping to surrender his life to fulfill his fundamental resolve. Yet though the tigers and leopards came, they all merely sniffed him and did not eat. He was constantly distressed that his wish was not fulfilled; he walked alone following the tracks of beasts, hoping to be devoured. At that time heaven and earth were shuttered, and the Semblance Teaching was obscured. State orders were severe, not permitting monks to flee the calamity. More than thirty monks of eminent virtue from the capital had fled to Zhongnan, with no safe place to rest their mortal frames. An then summoned them all to gather on the islets [of the streams] and settled them in hidden, secluded places, while he himself dwelt out in the open and went about begging for food, unafraid of severe punishment. Thus both food and clothing were abundant, and their practice of cultivation was not abandoned. Is he not what is meant by a wise man who knows his role in times of chaos? At that time a heavy bounty was offered, promising ten bolts of goods for capturing a single monk. A man responded to the bounty and came wishing to arrest An. [An] comforted and reasoned with him, saying, 'Seeing that you are impoverished and distressed, I wish to help you.' After preparing food for him, they entered the capital together. The emperor said to the man, 'The laws of my state are severe and do not permit men of the Dao among the populace. You make them harsher still by not permitting men of the Dao in the mountains. If so, where will you send them to live? He should be released into the mountains; no investigation is needed.' Moreover, a Zhou official named Liu Baize was ordered by imperial decree to search the mountain slopes for fugitive monks. An accomplice reported, saying, 'Inside this Pianzi Valley there is the Daoist Puan.' He was then sent to pursue and seize him, and came back together with him. Ze said to his accomplice, 'I saw nothing; he should be released and sent back at once.' Thereupon, freed of concern, he returned to where he lived. Whenever he met with calamities, he never hid himself, yet he was always exonerated and freed; such were the precedents. At that time Dharma Master Ai was avoiding the calamity at the house of Du Yingshi in Yi Valley, where a kiln had been dug to hide him. When An was released and returned, he stopped by to pay his respects. Ai said, 'Venerable An, your understanding of the Buddha's Dharma is not yet broad and extensive, but your spirit and resolve are peerless, yielding to no oppressor. Indeed, it is hard to equal!' An said, 'That I have now escaped disaster is solely due to the power of the Avataṃsaka. There is none among all my sincere prayers that does not rely on it.' He then invited Ai to return to the mountain and personally managed his needs. From all directions people were drawn by his reputation, coming to join him in great numbers. Ai and An then further opened up the place where they dwelt, as detailed in the separate biography. When Emperor Wen of the Sui began his reign, Buddhism flourished greatly. Fugitive monks were recruited widely to be settled as before. At that time, more than thirty monks from Pianzi Valley answered the edict to go forth, and all took up residence in official monasteries. Only An, though rejoicing in this revival, did not chase fame; he remained in his original mountain dwelling, keeping his simplicity among the forest and ravines. Occasionally he went to villages to benefit living beings, but he ultimately reposed among the mists and clouds, not associating with the worldly dust. Later, someone carved a grotto and built a hermitage beside the confluence of the two valleys of Ziwu and Hulin, and invited him to dwell there. When he first resided in the grotto, there was a great boulder directly above it. Fearing it would fall, it was dug out, whereupon it tumbled down the steep slope. An thought to himself, 'May it shift to another place and not shatter the grotto hermitage!' The boulder then burst aside to another spot as he had spoken. The great assembly was all amazed. An said, 'It is the power of the Avataṃsaka; it is nothing to wonder at.' Furthermore, on the cliff left of the stream east of the grotto, there was a dhūta monk named Suo, who was a great scourge to the river valleys, unruly and tyrannical on many occasions. Secretly jealous of An's virtue, he constantly thought to slay and destroy him. Together with three companions, he carried bows and gripped blades; rolling up his sleeves, he drew his bow and was about to loose an arrow. But the arrow would not leave the string, and his hands remained stretched without pause; with glaring eyes and his tongue muted, he stood frozen overnight. News of this spread far and wide, and people gathered like clouds. The villagers bowed their heads, showed sincere devotion, and begged for deliverance. An said, 'I truly know nothing of this; how could it not be the power of the Avataṃsaka? If you wish to be freed, just make him repent.' Following these instructions, he was finally released. Furthermore, west of the grotto, in Wei Village, there was Zhang Hui, who had long harbored evil thoughts and lived by theft. At night he went to An's place and secretly took a jar of the Buddha's lamp-oil, holding five dous, and carried it out on his back. As soon as he reached the courtyard gate, he became dazed and lost his senses, as if bound, unable to move. His family and fellow villagers came together to apologize. An said, 'I know nothing; it must be the power of the Avataṃsaka!' He told him to repent and helped remove the oil jar; following his words, the man was freed. Furthermore, south of the grotto, Zhang Qing came to steal An's money and carried it off in his sleeve. When he reached home, he poured it out, but nothing would emerge, and his mouth was muted and unable to speak. Qing immediately returned to repent and went back along the road he came. In Chengguo Village, there was Cheng Huihe, who was quite faithful and constantly came to An's place to listen to the essential Dharma. Falling ill, he died; two nights had passed, and his body was wrapped on the ground, awaiting encoffining and burial. At that time An had previously gone to Hu County. On his way back along the road, he arrived at Dexing Monastery in the southwest, five li east of Hui's village. From afar he called out, 'Cheng Huihe, why do you not come to meet me?' He called repeatedly without pause. A farmer said, 'He has long been dead; there is no way he can meet you.' An said, 'These are wild words; I do not believe them.' Soon he reached the village and called out in a loud voice. He's body then moved, and his relatives cut the ropes wrapped around him. An entered his courtyard and called out loudly to him again. He then sat up, crawling toward An. [An] ordered the removal of the coffin gear, overturned an arrow-basket to serve as a Buddha-seat, and made He circumambulate it. Soon he was as well as before, and lived for some twenty more years. Later, falling gravely ill, he came to plead for help. An said, 'You let yourself wander dissolutely; this is beyond my doing.' He then passed away. At that time An's renown spread abroad, and monastics and laity held him in high esteem; such cases were numerous. All came to pay respects and hold meritorious gatherings, and there were many miraculous responses; a few will be briefly recounted. To the north of Kunming Lake, in Bai Village, an elderly mother was bedridden with illness and had lost her voice for a hundred days. She gestured to her sons and daughters that she longed to see An's form. Discerning their mother's wish, they invited him to their home. When the sick mother saw him, she unawares stepped down to welcome him, exchanging greetings as on ordinary days, and the illness completely vanished. At that time his fame surged even more; the villages gathered together, each leading musical ensembles, going from house to house to announce that they wished to hold a great vegetarian feast. In Dawan Village, Tian Yisheng was utterly destitute, having only four daughters. His wife wore ragged hemp that barely reached her knees, and the four daughters were stark naked, without a single thread on them. The eldest daughter was named Huayan, aged twenty; she had only two feet of coarse cloth intended as an offering. An led the village crowd and came to their door in turn, but pitying their poverty, he passed by without entering. The eldest daughter thought, 'Because of our poverty and distress we cannot join the merit assembly. If we do not cultivate [merit] now, our misery will be doubled in future lives.' Searching everywhere for an offering, all was desolate with nowhere to turn. Raising her face and weeping bitterly, she saw under the roof-ridge a handful of tangled hemp used to plug a skylight. Pulling it down and shaking it out, she found some ten-odd grains of millet; rubbing them, she made rice, and intended to offer this along with the cloth to participate in rejoicing. Lacking clothes, she waited until nightfall, crawled on all fours to the feast offering place, threw the cloth offering from afar into the crowd, and separately offered the ten-odd grains of rice into the cooking pot. Then she made a vow, saying, 'A woman's impoverished karma was planted by herself long ago. I now exhaust all my poverty to make this offering, hoping for future recompense. I boldly cast these ten-odd grains of yellow millet into the rice steamer. If my sincerity is true and my impoverished karma is exhausted, may the cooked rice turn entirely yellow! If there is no response, what can be done about fate?' Having made this vow, she wiped her tears and returned. Thereupon, the five piculs of rice in the steamer all turned yellow. The great assembly was astonished and sighed, not knowing the cause. Searching all around for the origin, they were told it was the vow of Tian Yisheng's daughter. The participants of the vegetarian feast together contributed ten bushels of millet to relieve her immediately. An prepared Dharma robes and ordained Huayan, sending her to a monastery in the capital. Thereafter his fame revived further, and his profound awakening was beyond words. Though An dwelt in secluded places, he constantly practiced compassionate rescue. Every year, during the spring and autumn festivals, many blood sacrifices were held; he traveled around redeeming [animals] and encouraging the cultivation of Dharma principles, so that settlements that ceased slaughtering were numerous. Once, in a village beside his grotto, three pigs were tied up and about to be slaughtered. Hearing of this, An went to redeem them. Fearing they would not be allowed to slaughter them, the villagers raised their demand to ten thousand coins. An said, 'I have only three thousand coins, which already exceeds ten times their original price; we can agree on this.' The crowd held differing views and argued angrily with one another. Suddenly a boy, with sheepskin wrapped around his belly, came to the festival gathering to help An redeem the pigs. Seeing the quarrel, he begged for wine; drinking and dancing as he went, spinning dazzlingly, the entire assembly, young and old, suddenly went blind. In a moment he vanished, and no one knew where he went. An then drew a knife and cut the flesh from his own thigh, saying, 'This is also flesh. Pigs eat filth, yet you still eat them; how much more so for a human who eats grain, which is inherently noble!' Hearing and seeing this, the villagers released them all at once. Once freed, the pigs circumambulated An three times and nudged him with their snouts as if showing love and reverence. Because of this, within fifty li southwest of the suburbs, chickens and pigs ceased to be bred, even down to the present day. Such was his power to evoke compassion. By nature he was thoroughly sincere and loved reading the Avataṃsaka Sūtra; with one bowl and three robes, he grew ever more diligent with each passing decade. In the eighth year of the Kaihuang reign, he was repeatedly summoned to the capital to serve as teacher to the Crown Prince. The Eldest Princess founded the Jingfa Monastery and invited him to dwell there. Although his name belonged to an imperial temple, he always slept in mountain crags. On the fifth day of the eleventh month in the fifth year of the Daye reign, he passed away in the Dhyāna Courtyard of Jingfa Monastery at the age of eighty. His remains were placed in a stūpa erected in Zhongnan, beside the Zhixiang Monastery.