續高僧傳 24.8

24.8

Shi Mingzhan, whose secular surname was Du, was a native of Shiyi in Hengzhou. From his youth he displayed unusual conduct. In the village of Longgui where he lived, of more than two thousand households, all held him in high esteem and spoke praises of him. At the age of fourteen he was conversant with the classics; at seventeen he was clear on the histories. The prefecture and county thus recommended him as an outstanding scholar. By nature he yearned to transcend worldly limits and did not comply with the official summons. He went to Yingjue Temple on Mount Feilong and left household life. His master, secretly marveling at his bearing, sent a letter to the Dharmabhāṇaka Daochang of Daji Temple in Ye, directing [Mingzhan] to rely upon his guidance and specialize in the study of the Mahāvibhāṣā [or Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa]. Soon he encountered the suppression of the Dharma and concealed his presence in Dongjun. At the beginning of the Sui, when the Dharma emerged once more, he was reassigned to dwell at Fazang Temple in Xiangzhou. He set his resolve with purity and brightness, never associating with improper sorts. In the leisure left by his primary vocation, he had no other involvements whatsoever. Internally he penetrated both the Greater and Lesser Vehicles; externally he synthesized the ancient canonical histories. The masters and chronicles, books and plain silk scrolls were what his heart took delight and familiarity in. Intending to observe the country's governance, he made his way to the Upper Capital. In the third year of the Kaihuang reign (583), an imperial edict summoned him to translate scriptures and reside at Daxingshan Temple. The congregation, seeing his virtue and prestige worthy of veneration, nominated him to oversee the temple's administration. Though he declined, he could not avoid it and thus took charge of managing it. In the second year of the Daye reign (606), the Emperor returned to the capital and, in the southern suburbs, grandly arranged his armed forces. At that time, there were corrupt monks who had violated the court's statutes, and the matter was reported to the sovereign. The Emperor was exceedingly enraged; he summoned all the monks to stand in rank before the imperial presence, standing firm and matching etiquette. An imperial edict descended rebuking them: "Statutes and regulations have long been promulgated; in principle you must render homage!" At that time, men and women of Huang-Lao [Daoism] bowed as soon as they heard it; only the gate of the Śākyan lineage stood solemn, none bowing down. As Zhan was held by all in high esteem for his religious renown, he replied: "If Your Majesty truly desires to revere and exalt the Buddha's teachings, the monks in principle have no reason to render homage. If, according to the regulations, we return to worldly life, then the Dharma robes are not fit for rendering homage to secular customs." The imperial edict said: "If it is unfitting because of the Dharma robes, why did they render homage to Emperor Wu of the Song?" Zhan said: "The ruler of the Song was a monarch without the Way; not bowing would have immediately incurred overt execution. Your Majesty possesses good governance and upholds righteousness, never entrapping the innocent; therefore we dare not bow." The Emperor did not yield to his words and simply dispatched an attendant to say to the monks: "Why do you not bow?" This was repeated five times. The clan of the Yellow Turbans bowed repeatedly without end; only Zhan and his fellow monks made deep bows with hands folded as before, raising their voices in response and exposition without any fear or intimidation. The Emperor then asked: "Who was the monk that just replied to the edict? Record his name and submit it to the throne, then order him to observe those being executed." The whole congregation of monks retired peacefully. The following morning, the officials recruited volunteers willing to face death to go to the palace gate and apologize. Zhan again took the lead; though he delivered words of submission and deference, the Emperor remained impassive and made no mention [of punishment]. He merely issued an imperial decree to offer vegetarian feasts to all the monks of the capital at the two Chanding Temples, twice presenting bundles of silk, which especially exceeded the regular standard. Later, returning his imperial carriage to the western suburbs, he looked back at the capital and said to the court ministers: "I said there were no true monks in the realm; now having tested them, one is enough!" From then on, [Zhan] was repeatedly consulted in primordial selections, and all public discussions pointed to him. An imperial edict commanded him to dwell at Chanding Temple in order to honor his supreme virtue. Because Zhan maintained an upright countenance, held firm to determinations, and did not shy away from the powerful and overbearing, the congregation again elected him as the administrator and sthavira. He put the monastic affairs in good order, providing completely for the needs of the time. When the Great Tang ruled the world, monastic officials were instituted; the selections and appointments of the bright and wise were justly settled without impediment. In the beginning of the Zhenguan reign (627–649), because Zhan was well versed in methods of governance and had a reputation at court, he was summoned into the inner palace and personally ascended the imperial couch. After dining, he answered the imperial inquiries, expounding broadly on the methods of rule of wise monarchs and benighted sovereigns since antiquity, and also presenting the great deliverance of the Buddhist gate with compassionate rescue as its foundation. The Emperor was greatly delighted and immediately issued an imperial edict: on the three [fast] months and six [fast] days of the year, slaughter was prohibited everywhere; and Buddhist temples were established in all locations where military campaigns had been fought. Promptly, seven places were constructed at the same time: such as Zhaoren in Binzhou, Ciyun in Jinzhou, Puji in Lüzhou, Hongji in Fenzhou, Zhaofu in Mingzhou, Dengci in Zhengzhou, and Zhaojue in Luozhou. All were provided stonecutters by the government, and bondservants were sent from the capital; all came about due to Zhan's instigation. Furthermore, using personal offerings received each year, he regularly fed a thousand monks; wherever Mahāyāna sūtras and treatises were needed, he copied them, continuing year after year without interruption. In order to repay his mother's kindness and as his advanced age was approaching, he built a mountain hermitage. He thereupon entered the Zhiju Temple on Mount Taiyi and lived in seclusion there. The faithful from the capital came to the forest from afar; those asking after the Way and receiving the precepts were even more numerous than in the past. He then reflected to himself: "In collecting my mind to return to stillness, am I still troubled by weariness? Let me venture my remaining years to return once more to the capital." A short while later he contracted an illness, which was still treatable. He said: "My life has reached its end; it can linger perhaps for one month. Why burden others with these withered bones?" He then invited all the eminent virtues to gather at Xingshan Temple, holding a vegetarian feast to bid farewell. Right and Left Vice-Directors of the Department of State Affairs Fang and Du, along with the entire court, all gathered. They brought materials to assist the offerings, and donations of alms piled up like mountains. Zhan performed a great renunciation, expressed repentance, and took his leave. On that very day, leaning on his staff with great effort, he left the capital and returned to Zhiju Temple. Exerting his utmost sincerity, he diligently focused his thoughts and contemplated the Western [Pure Land]. His mind became clear, bright, and sharp. He told his attendant: "Amitābha Buddha has arrived!" A moment later he added: "The two great bodhisattvas have also arrived. In the Contemplation Sūtra, I have fulfilled twelve [contemplations]; the remaining ones are not yet complete." Having displayed various auspicious signs, his countenance peaceful and serene, he suddenly passed away. His age was seventy; it was the twenty-seventh day of the tenth month in the second year of the Zhenguan reign (628). At that time, based on the verification of his foreknowledge, people knew his destiny was assured. Initially, before his death, he left instructions to cremate his body. When the jhāpita was completed, they found his skeletal remains round and complete, entirely without seams; atop his cranium, a bright purple glow shone brilliantly. He was subsequently interred beneath the cliff.