大明高僧傳 4.9

4.9

釋明得號月亭。以紹萬松林禪師法嗣故又號千松。湖州烏程周氏子也。師生即頴異岐然不凡。髫時隨父入西資道場。遂指壁間畫羅漢像問父曰。僧耶俗耶。父曰僧也。師慨然曰。吾願為是矣。於是力求出家。父母不聽。至年十三始投郡之雙林慶善庵。從僧真祥習瑜珈教。越四載祝髮。聞有向上事乃首參百川海公。不契。因而單衣芒屩遍遊叢席。匍匐叩請備歷艱辛。自念般若緣薄。擬投天竺哀懇觀音大士祈值明師。道經中竺。聞萬松說法先入禮謁。萬松問曰。大德何來欲求何事。對曰。欲叩普門求良導耳。松竪一指曰。且去禮大士却來相見。師泫然再拜求決生死大事。松曰。子欲脫生死。須知生死無著始得。師聞罔然。依受具足戒。自爾朝參夕叩久無所入。松不得已授以楞嚴大旨。於是苦心研究。至清淨本然云何忽生山河大地處。恍然若雲散長空寒蟾獨朗。遂作偈呈曰。楞嚴經內本無經。覿面何須問姓名。六月炎天炎似火。寒冬臘月冷如氷。松頷之囑曰。汝既悟教乘。異日江南講肆無出爾右。向上大事藉此可明。松住徑山。師為眾負米採薪不憚勞苦。偶行林麓間有虎踞道。師卓錫而前。虎遁去。甞閱棗伯合論至十地品。中宵隱几而坐。夢遊兜羅綿世界。登座闡華嚴奧旨。至于結座乃說偈曰。從本已來無。今日何曾有。一毛頭上現。虛空笑開口。咄一咄下座。寤白松。松撫之曰。此聖力之冥被耳。非惟吾道之將行。清涼一宗亦大振矣。無何松化去。師懸鐺守塔三載。聞佛慧祇園法師講席之盛戴笠投之。祇園亦默識而愛重。其弟子沙泉頗自負不籍師名。師遂掛錫報先寺。報先與佛慧咫尺之間。故晨則持鉢。午則聽講。夕則與同參十餘人敷其義趣。於是眾日漸益香積不繼。師陰禱于伽藍神曰。倘吾與聖教有緣。神其無悋訶護。移時有外道自雲間來施米百石。自是報先之盛過于佛慧。開堂之日祇園命侍僧奉以衣拂。而謝還之。瓣香為萬松拈出。已而孑身復徑山凌霄峯。為礙膺未破又力參三年。一夕初夜趺坐。豁爾心境冥會疑滯氷釋。乃躍然說偈曰。千年翠竹萬年松。葉葉枝枝是祖風。雲嶽高岑棲隱處。無言杲日普皆同。趨禮萬松塔曰。老漢不我欺也。自此道譽益隆學者輻輳。四方交聘歲無虛日。開堂靈隱。門庭嚴峻無賴。僧徹空天然輩睨視不敢近。竟以不測事誣師。不終日事白天然坐誣遁。餘黨笞死者二十人。師南遊赤城。外道歸化者不可勝紀。台郡教乘之被實師始也闡玄談于大中菴。三日菴災。獨師之丈室巋然無恙。講圓覺疏鈔于法海。地產白蓮華。紫芝生於廁。五臺居士因匾其堂曰涌蓮。師居東禪夜夢。文殊跨獅出。乃遺獅乘空而去。獅忽化為童子。師故問曰。爾方獅今童耶。試開口。童子啟頰口如丹硃。師撫其背曰。爾猶獅也。童曰。師口何如。師張口示之。童踊入咽。師驚覺而汗。且喜曰。文殊大智在我腹中矣。不數月五臺陸公率眾命講華嚴大鈔。眾常千指妙峯覺法師入室弟子也。遙宗四明弘天台教觀之道。以師闡賢首未諳台衡故。質六即蛣蜣之義。師曰。天台六即在行人迷悟之分耳。如我在名字則十界皆名字。我證究竟則十界皆究竟。若我蛣蜣十界皆蛣蜣也。非蛣蜣上別有六即。覺曰。不然。天台六即不論世出世間有情無情。物物皆具隨舉一法六即在焉。何必以我迷悟觀彼優劣哉。師曰。聖人設教誠為汲引迷塗。若云隨舉一法六即在焉是為惟談世諦成於戲論。學人何有哉。前五即置所弗論。如云究竟一究竟則一切皆究竟。如金出鑛。似璧離璞。是故如來初成正覺觀於九界。一切眾生同時成佛。非惟九界正報。全體遮那則九界依報無非寂光。所以歎云。奇哉眾生具有如來智慧德相。乃因妄想不自證得。豈非以我成佛觀彼皆成佛也。果如子言。其究竟蛣蜣永無成佛日矣。一切眾生而無一人發菩提心。所謂十法界都為一隊無孔鐵鎚。若言究竟蛣蜣容有成佛。如來何日復迷而作眾生金重為鑛其失孰大。覺曰。究竟蛣蜣非是說也。以其心體本具故曰理即。色相已成方稱究竟。一界既爾。界界總然。當界而論。六即自備。何必以其成佛不成佛難耶。師笑曰。子去做一個究竟蛣蜣也。聞者無不高其論。吳俗尚崇事玄武。比丘亦有披僧伽衣而禮者。師見故逆而問曰。汝奚為而來。曰禮祖師也。師叱曰。汝身為比丘心實外道。其玄武北方一水神耳。教中所謂毘娑門天王是也。彼以神力為佛外護。稱其為祖師。乃披七佛衣拜之。不亦謬且倒乎。遂毀其像易事達磨之像。謂其僧曰。此爾祖師也。凡所過名蘭精舍有事玄武三官盡去之。俾學人專心正道。其護教概如此也。師為人脩幹孤高性度剛毅。以傳法為已任。故禍患不避其身而欣慼不形乎色。至于登座則慈雲靄然。七眾無不渥其沛澤。白椎則三千炳著八萬森嚴。室中雖不橫施棒喝。聞毒鼓而心死者眾矣。萬曆丁亥秋告眾曰。吾為汝等轉首楞嚴法輪作再後開示。無復為汝更轉也。冬示疾。尤諄諄囑以教乘事。明年正月望後二日吉祥而逝。世壽五十有八。臘四十有六。荼毘塔于徑山。

Śramaṇa Mingde was styled Yueting. Because he continued the Dharma lineage of Chan Master Wansong Lin, he was also styled Qiansong. He was a son of the Zhou family of Wucheng in Huzhou. From birth, the master was extraordinarily gifted, distinct and remarkable. In his childhood, he accompanied his father into the Xizi Bodhimaṇḍa. He then pointed to a painting of an arhat on the wall and asked his father, "Is that a monk or a layman?" His father replied, "A monk." The master sighed with emotion and said, "I wish to become that!" Thereupon, he vigorously pleaded to leave home, but his parents would not allow it. Only at the age of thirteen did he go to Qingshan Hermitage in Shuanglin in his prefecture, where he studied the Yoga teachings under the monk Zhenxiang. After four years, he had his hair shaved. Hearing that there was the matter of the supreme [vehicle], he first went to consult Master Baichuan Hai, but found no rapport. Consequently, wearing only a single robe and straw sandals, he traveled all over to monasteries, prostrating, entreating, and enduring every hardship. Thinking to himself that his connection with prajñā was meager, he intended to head to Tianzhu to plead mournfully before Bodhisattva Guanyin, praying to meet an enlightened teacher. Passing through Zhongzhu along the way, he heard Master Wansong preaching the Dharma and entered first to pay his respects. Wansong asked, "Virtuous One, where have you come from, and what do you seek?" He replied, "I wish to knock at the Universal Gate to seek a good guide." Wansong raised a single finger and said, "First go pay homage to the Great Being, then come back to see me." The master, weeping, bowed again and begged for a resolution of the great matter of birth and death. Wansong said, "If you wish to be freed from birth and death, you must realize that birth and death have no resting place before you can attain it." The master was at a loss upon hearing this. He took refuge and received the full ordination. From then on, attending the morning meetings and knocking [for instruction] in the evening, for a long time he made no entry. Left with no other choice, Wansong taught him the essential tenets of the Śūraṅgama. Thereupon, he investigated it with deep concentration. When he reached the passage, "Originally pure and naturally so, how could the mountains, rivers, and great earth suddenly arise?", he was enlightened, like clouds dispersing across the vast sky and the cold moon shining brightly alone. He then composed a verse and presented it: "Within the Śūraṅgama Sūtra there is fundamentally no sūtra; / Face to face, what need to ask the name? / The blazing heavens of the sixth month are scorching like fire; / The twelfth month of deep winter is cold as ice." Wansong nodded in approval and instructed him: "Since you have awakened to the teachings, in future days no one in the lecture halls of Jiangnan will surpass you. Through this, the supreme great matter can be clarified." When Wansong resided at Jingshan, the master carried rice and gathered firewood for the assembly, shrinking from no toil. Once, as he walked among the forested foothills, a tiger crouched in the path. The master planted his staff and stepped forward; the tiger fled. While reading Zaobo's Combined Commentary [on the Avataṃsaka Sūtra] and reaching the Chapter on the Ten Grounds, he sat leaning on his table at midnight. He dreamed of traveling to the world of cotton-soft clouds, where he ascended the seat and expounded the profound tenets of the Avataṃsaka. When concluding the assembly, he spoke a verse: "From the very beginning, it never was; / Today, how could it ever be? / Appearing upon the tip of a single hair, / Empty space opens its mouth and laughs. / Du!" With a shout of reprimand, he stepped down from the seat. Awakening, he reported it to Wansong. Wansong patted him and said, "This is the unseen protection of holy power. Not only will my path flourish, but the Qingliang school will also experience a great revival." Soon after, Wansong passed away. The master hung his cauldron and guarded the stūpa for three years. Hearing of the flourishing lectures of Dharma Master Zhiyuan of Fohui, he put on his bamboo hat and went thither. Zhiyuan also silently recognized and esteemed him. His disciple Shaquan was rather arrogant and did not rely on the master's reputation. The master then hung his staff at Baoxian Temple. Baoxian was just a short distance from Fohui; thus, in the morning he held his alms bowl, at noon he listened to the lectures, and in the evening he expounded their doctrinal significance with over ten fellow practitioners. Thereupon, the assembly grew daily, and the provisions from the Fragrant Accumulation kitchen could not keep pace. The master secretly prayed to the sanghārāma guardian deity, saying, "If I have a connection with the holy teaching, may the deity not grudge protection." After a short while, a follower of another path came from Yunjian and donated one hundred dan of rice. From this time, the prosperity of Baoxian surpassed that of Fohui. On the day he opened the hall, Zhiyuan instructed his attendant monks to present him with robes and a fly-whisk, but the master politely declined and returned them; he brought out a pinch of incense for Wansong. Later, alone, he returned to Lingxiao Peak on Jingshan. Because an obstruction in his chest remained unbroken, he applied himself in practice for another three years. One evening during the first watch of the night, while sitting cross-legged, his mind and its objects suddenly merged in obscurity, and his doubts and obstacles melted away like ice. Leaping up with joy, he spoke a verse: "A thousand years of emerald bamboo, ten thousand years of pine; / Every leaf and branch is the ancestral style. / In the secluded dwelling of the high mountain peak among cloudy ranges, / The silent bright sun shines equally upon all." He hurried to pay homage at Wansong's stūpa, saying, "The old man did not deceive me!" From then on, his reputation for the Dao grew ever more exalted, and students gathered like spokes at a hub. Invitations arrived continuously from all four quarters, without a single idle day in the year. He opened the hall at Lingyin. His monastic standards were rigorous and strict. Rogue monks such as Chekong and Tianran looked askance and dared not approach. In the end, they falsely accused the master of an unexpected offense. Within a single day, the truth was cleared; Tianran was convicted of slander and fled, while twenty of the remaining accomplices were beaten to death. The master traveled south to Chicheng, and the non-Buddhists who converted were too numerous to record. The spreading of the doctrinal teachings in the Taizhou commandery truly began with the master. He expounded the profound discourse at Dazhong Hermitage. On the third day, a fire broke out at the hermitage; only the master's abbot's room stood towering and unharmed. When he lectured on the Commentary and Subcommentary on the Perfect Enlightenment Sūtra at Fahai, white lotus flowers grew from the ground, and purple ganoderma sprouted by the privy. The layman of Wutai thereupon inscribed a plaque for the hall reading "Surging Lotuses." While residing at Dongchan, the master dreamed at night that Mañjuśrī rode forth on a lion, then left the lion behind and ascended into space. The lion suddenly transformed into a young boy. The master intentionally asked, "You were just a lion; are you now a boy? Open your mouth and let me see." The boy opened his cheeks, his mouth red as cinnabar. The master stroked his back and said, "You are still a lion." The boy asked, "What is the Master's mouth like?" The master opened his mouth to show him. The boy leapt into his throat. The master woke with a start, sweating, and rejoiced, saying, "Mañjuśrī's great wisdom is within my belly!" Within a few months, Lord Lu of Wutai led an assembly to request him to lecture on the Great Commentary on the Avataṃsaka Sūtra. The assembly frequently numbered a thousand monks. Dharma Master Miaofeng Jue was an entered-the-room disciple. Paying distant homage to Siming, he propagated the teachings and contemplation of the Tiantai school. Because the master expounded the Xianshou school and was not versed in Tiantai-Hengshan, Jue questioned him on the meaning of the dung beetle in the six identities. The master said, "Tiantai's six identities are merely distinctions based on the practitioner's delusion or awakening. If I am in the identity of verbal understanding, the ten realms are all verbal understanding. If I realize ultimate identity, the ten realms are all ultimate identity. If I am a dung beetle, the ten realms are all dung beetles; it is not that there are six identities existing separately apart from the dung beetle." Jue said, "Not so. Tiantai's six identities do not distinguish between the worldly and transmundane, sentient and insentient. Every single thing is endowed with them; whatever single dharma you bring up, the six identities are present within it. Why must one view their superiority or inferiority through one's own delusion or awakening?" The master said, "The sages established the teaching truly to guide those who have lost their way. If you say that whatever single dharma you bring up has the six identities present within it, this is merely discussing conventional truth and descends into frivolous discourse. What benefit does the student gain? Setting aside the first five identities for a moment: as for what is called ultimate identity, once one is ultimate, all are ultimate, like gold emerging from ore, like jade freed from rough stone. Therefore, when the Tathāgata first attained right awakening and contemplated the nine realms, all sentient beings simultaneously became Buddhas. Not only are the direct retributions of the nine realms the complete body of Vairocana, but the dependent retributions of the nine realms are also none other than quiescent light. Therefore he sighed, 'How wondrous! Sentient beings possess all the wisdom, virtues, and marks of the Tathāgata, yet because of false thinking they do not realize it themselves.' Is this not viewing all as having become Buddhas because I have become a Buddha? If it were indeed as you say, an ultimate dung beetle would never have a day of becoming a Buddha, and among all sentient beings not a single person would produce the bodhi-mind. The so-called ten dharma realms would all become a band of iron hammers without holes! If you say that an ultimate dung beetle might eventually become a Buddha, then on what day would the Tathāgata become deluded again and turn into a sentient being, with gold turning back into ore? Which of these faults would be greater?" Jue said, "The 'ultimate dung beetle' does not mean that. Because its mind-essence is fundamentally endowed [with Buddhahood], it is called the identity in principle. Only when its physical form is already complete is it called ultimate. Since one realm is like this, all realms are likewise. Discussing it within its own realm, the six identities are naturally complete in themselves. Why must you challenge it with whether it becomes a Buddha or not?" The master smiled and said, "Go on, sir, and be an ultimate dung beetle!" None who heard this failed to extol his argument. In the customs of Wu, people favored the worship of Xuanwu, and there were even bhikṣus who donned saṅghāṭī robes to pay homage to him. Seeing this, the master deliberately stepped in front of one and asked, "Why have you come?" The monk replied, "To pay homage to the Patriarch." The master scolded him, saying, "Your body is a bhikṣu, but your mind is truly that of an outsider. That Xuanwu is merely a water deity of the north; in our teachings, he is what is called Heavenly King Vaiśravaṇa. Using his spiritual power, he serves as an external protector of the Buddha. To call him a patriarch and put on the robes of the seven Buddhas to bow to him—is this not utterly absurd and inverted?" He then destroyed the statue and replaced it with an image of Bodhidharma, telling the monk, "This is your Patriarch." Wherever he passed, if any famous monastery or hermitage worshipped Xuanwu or the Three Officials, he removed them all, causing students to concentrate their minds on the correct path. Such was his defense of the Dharma. The master was tall and aloof in stature, and resolute in character. Taking the transmission of the Dharma as his personal responsibility, he did not shy away from disaster, nor did joy or grief show upon his countenance. When he ascended the seat, a cloud of compassion spread misty, and none among the seven assemblies failed to receive his copious moisture. When he struck the mallet, the three thousand [worlds] shone brightly and the eighty thousand [teachings] stood dignified. Although he did not wield blows and shouts at will in his chamber, those whose minds died upon hearing his poison drum were numerous. In the autumn of the dinghai year of Wanli, he addressed the assembly, saying, "I have turned the wheel of the Dharma of the Śūraṅgama for you as my final instruction; I will not turn it again for you." In winter, he manifested illness, yet still earnestly exhorted them regarding the matters of the teachings. Two days after the full moon of the first month of the following year, he passed away auspiciously. His worldly age was fifty-eight; his dharma age was forty-six. He was cremated, and his stūpa was erected on Jingshan.