華嚴經傳記 4.20

4.20

Shi Jietuo's lay surname was Xing, and he was a native of Wutai County in Dai Commandery. He left the household at the age of seven, his aspirations and undertakings vast and far-reaching. At first, he followed Dhyāna Master Huichao of Baofu Rock to the right of Mount Jie to inquire into and seek the relinquishment of absorption. Chao had an exceptional eye for reading people; recognizing him to be a vessel of accomplishment, he told the assembly, "Jietuo's practice of dhyāna is profound and luminous, beyond what you companions can match. Do not treat him like an ordinary monk and make him perform monastic chores." In a short time, Jietuo's awakening crystallized deeply, almost exhausting its utmost limits. At the age of eighteen, he broadly visited the various traditions and consulted eminent masters; both newly heard teachings and old understandings entered into his inner sanctum. After receiving the full precepts, he further refined himself in the Vinaya. Shortly thereafter, he returned to his old dwelling and established Foguang Hermitage at Mount Foguang, at the southwestern foot of Mount Wutai, relying upon it for comprehensive practice. Jietuo constantly recited the Lotus Sūtra and also read the Avataṃsaka Sūtra every day, without stopping day or night. Later, relying on the Avataṃsaka Sūtra, he practiced the Foguang contemplation. He repeatedly went to the ancient Dafusi north of Huayuan to the southeast of the Central Terrace to seek Mañjuśrī, and was able to see him two or three times. At first, having bowed, he immediately lost sight of him; later, he personally received his spoken instruction, saying to Jietuo, "Why must you now bow to me in person? If you repent and rebuke yourself, you are certain to awaken and understand." Jietuo reverently received the sacred directive. Consequently seeking within himself, he awakened to non-arising and simultaneously attained the joy of the Dharma. Thereupon, sighing over this mere self-perfection, he thought of bringing widespread salvation. Praying with sincerity to the Great Awakened One, he requested verification of this mind. He then moved the Buddhas to appear and speak a gāthā, saying: / "The deep, profound Dharma of the Buddhas' quiescence / has only now been attained through practice over vast kalpas. / If one can open and awaken this Dharma-eye, / all the Buddhas will rejoice in accord." / Jietuo further asked into the sky, "How can this Dharma of quiescence be spoken so as to teach people?" The Buddhas then vanished, but a voice announced, saying: / "The wisdom of skillful means serves as a lamp, / illuminating and seeing the realm of the mind. / In the ultimate, true Dharma, / nothing at all is seen." / Once, the area commander of his prefecture invited him to transmit the incense precepts. After the teaching and conversion were completed, he was about to set out on his return east. The area commander and the monastic assembly escorted him to the head of the eastern city gate. As the sun was setting into evening, Jietuo was frustrated that he could not burn incense in offering, and was restless and ashamed. Suddenly, he heard a voice from atop the city wall, saying: / "Make joined palms your flowers, / and your body the vessel of offering; / a wholesome mind is the true incense, / whose billowing smoke of praise spreads far. / When the Buddhas smell this incense, / they will follow the sound and come to deliver you. / Let the assembly diligently advance; / in the end, they will not be doubted or led astray." / At that time, Jietuo alone heard this voice, and he redoubled his valiant vigor. From then on, his realization and entry became ever deeper. "The high mountain to be looked up to, the great road to be walked"—to this, people gladly turned their aspirations. Thereupon, from near and far, people converged like spokes at a hub, and requests for instruction flowed like a stream; those consulting him to receive instructions daily exceeded three hundred. Soon, as the great tree gathered birds, having to provide for them caused toil. He then spurred on the fourfold assembly to eat only one meal a day. The rooms and buildings were cramped and narrow, so many sat in the open air, causing water vessels, begging bowls, and rope beds to fill the mountain valley. Jietuo guided people with gentle kindliness, giving direction according to the circumstance, working to dismantle whatever they were attached to, having no fixed rule whatsoever. Thus, among the ranks of those visiting his gate, none could fathom the depths of his courtyard. Yet his feet did not leave the monastery for nearly fifty years. Those whose study culminated in the work of dhyāna approached more than eight hundred; beyond these, those who yearned for his style and washed in his ripples exceeded that number several times over. Whenever I consult biographies, I often see ancients: though Huisi of Mount Heng stood in the ten faiths to demonstrate his lofty station, and the Wise One of Mount Tiantai stood in the five ranks to mark his blazing glory, when it comes to training and instructing disciples to complete their plumage and wings, there has never been a gathering as immense as this. If his stage of practice were not transcendental, bending his traces to conform with ordinary mortals, it must have been the empowerment of Mañjuśrī aiding his broad guidance. Furthermore, to the west of Mount Heng and southeast of Mount Qingliang, there is a mountain popularly named Mount Dahei. There was a laywoman who had originally been blind, who constantly sat in dhyāna alone in the mountains. On the six fast days, the monastics and laity of Hengzhou would constantly bring incense, flowers, and fine delicacies to make offerings to Mañjuśrī. At mealtime, they suddenly heard a voice from the sky say, "Inside Mount Foguang on Mount Wutai, the Bodhisattva Mañjuśrī is teaching and converting there. You may go there, and you are certain to awaken to the Way." All heard it together, and none failed to rejoice and sing praises. They then followed the instruction from the sky and rushed to Foguang. The rugged distance between them was over two hundred li; the blind woman held up her hands and led the climb, initially without any guide. When Jietuo saw her, he was startled and arose, immediately imparting the profound tradition to her. Based on this, Jietuo was perhaps a provisional trace of the Great Sage. When his life was about to end, knowing this, various worthy masters spent the night in intimate farewell. At night, a tiger came to the spring from which Jietuo constantly drank, crying mournfully for a long time. When noon arrived the next day, his head was shaved as usual. He bowed to the monastic assembly, and having done so, returned to his own dhyāna chamber and passed away while sitting upright. His age at the time was eighty-one; it was the sixteenth year of Zhenguan. Monastics and laity wept in sorrow as if they had lost a parent. Right within the monastery, they carved a niche to house him. The niche faced west, opening with double doors a foot wide. To this day, when one looks upon it, he is dignified as if alive. Before he passed away, Jietuo once said to his relatives, "After I die, an eminent person will make my name prominent." The title of Qingliang was restored from this time on. When it came to the ninth month of the first year of the Linde reign era of the reigning Emperor, an edict ordered the śramaṇa Huiyi of Huichangsi and the Commandant Zhen Wanfu to present a patch-robe kāṣāya to pay homage to his remaining shadow, and to proceed to the various terraces to make offerings at the sacred traces. From that time, among the gentlemen from near and far who turned their hearts to him, none failed to cherish this place forever. This broadly verified that Jietuo's words were true.